Apart from the short time they’d had him on his feet and walking a few steps, Paget slept through much of Tuesday morning. He was still on liquids, and the smell of food stirred juices in his stomach—he’d have given anything for a solid meal. Not that he would have been able to swallow it, but the thought still tantalized as mealtimes came and went.
Two o’clock, and the clatter of lunch trays and the trundle of trolleys had only just subsided when Tregalles stuck his head around the door. “Mind if I come in, boss?” he asked. “I looked in earlier, but you were asleep. How do you feel now?”
“Better,” Paget told him. “Is Mr. Alcott with you?”
Tregalles swung a chair closer to the bed and sat down. “He doesn’t know I’m here,” he said. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“More questions?”
Tregalles shrugged apologetically. “Can’t help it, I’m afraid. I
hate to say it, but we’re not getting anywhere. The trouble is, the super’s got it into his head that you might know who did this to you. He seems to think you do remember, but don’t want to say.”
“Why on earth … ?” Paget began, then nodded slowly. “I see,” he said. “He believes I lied when I said there is nothing going on between Regan and me.”
Tregalles shrugged. “That’s about it,” he admitted. “I tried to tell him he was wrong, but he insists that I pursue that line of questioning, because he’s convinced that it was Marshall who attacked you. The trouble with that is Marshall is a loner. I haven’t found anyone who admits to being a friend of his, or who knows anyone who is. And yet all the evidence shows that there had to be two people involved in the attack. One behind you, and one in front, and when Grace Lovett found the torch down the side of the building—”
Paget stopped him. “What was that about Grace?” he asked. “You didn’t say anything about that earlier on.”
“Didn’t have time before that nurse came in,” Tregalles said, and went on to explain how Grace had worked out how a second person could have escaped unseen, and had found the torch among the debris beside the building. “We believe that someone came up behind you and hit you over the head,” he concluded, “but there was someone else there, someone in front of you, and it was the one in front who …” He made a gesture with his hand across the throat.
A tantalizing wisp of memory stirred, a blinding light, a voice—and the smell of burnt flesh! Jill’s blackened face … He thrust out his hands, palms outward, and turned his head away. The image faded, but the smell still lingered in his nostrils.
“Sir? Are you all right?” Tregalles half rose from his seat, but Paget waved him away. “It’s all right,” he said. “For a moment there, I thought I remembered something, but it’s gone.”
“About the attack? Something I said?”
How could he explain what was going on inside his head when he didn’t know himself? “It was nothing,” he said. “Sorry if I startled you, Tregalles, but I’m told I’ll experience a number of strange
sensations until the pressure on the brain subsides.” He switched to another subject before the sergeant could ask more questions.
“You say it was Grace who found the torch?”
“That’s right. She’s good. We should get her on our team.”
Paget smiled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tregalles?”
Tregalles grinned. “Did you know that she came to the ICU every day while you were up there?”
“Grace did? Why?”
“I reckon that bang on the head did more damage than you think,” Tregalles chuckled. “I hear she was pretty concerned about you. Pestered the uniforms outside the door, even tried to get information out of that Dr. McMillan.”
“Really? That was kind of her,” said Paget neutrally. “Perhaps you would thank her for me when you see her. However, I’m sure you didn’t come back to tell me that, did you?”
“No, sir, but I do have more questions, if you feel up to answering them.”
Paget settled himself more comfortably against the pillows and waited.
Tregalles took a deep breath and said, “I’m afraid I have to ask you again, sir, about your relationship with Regan. As I said, she has been here every day as well, asking after you. In fact, if I may say so, sir, she seems to be taking an extraordinary interest in your welfare.”
Paget’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning?” he said softly.
Tregalles wasn’t enjoying this at all, but it had to be done. “Meaning that we are trying to put it into context,” he said. “It was her husband, Paul Marshall, who first implied that you and she were having an affair. He said that she never stopped talking about you, and it was because of you that she refused to leave the service. He said he finally lost his temper and told her that if she thought so much of the job and you, she might as well stay there with you. So she did. I don’t mean that literally,” he amended hastily, “but she did leave him at that point, and went to stay with a friend, Linda Bryce. She works in the office.”
Committed now, the sergeant pushed on. “You see, sir, it is a matter of record that Regan did stay behind to work with you on many occasions when it could be argued there was no need, if you see what I mean?”
Paget closed his eyes. He saw what Tregalles meant all right. He liked Regan, but the woman was an overachiever. She was good at her job, and she was ambitious, but she pushed too hard. He could understand her wanting to make a good impression, but there had been times when he’d wished she would go home. He often worked late, but it was because he had nothing waiting for him at home. Since Jill had gone and he’d made the transfer to Broadminster, his job was his life.
Perhaps that was the way it was for Regan. Her job was her life, and she was looking for an escape from a situation at home that had become unbearable.
He opened his eyes. “If there was an attraction,” he told Tregalles, “I can assure you it was entirely one-sided. Kate wants to become a sergeant, and I suspect that she doesn’t intend to stop there. She was always looking for more work; she wanted to impress me and everyone she worked with, but that’s it! In short, Tregalles, there never was any affair or anything remotely resembling an affair. Have you talked to her about it?”
Tregalles nodded. “Yes, and Molly had a talk with her as well.”
“And what was Regan’s reaction?”
“She denied that anything was going on—but then, she would, wouldn’t she? I mean, if there was really nothing to it, she would deny it, and if there was, she’d still deny it.”
Paget smiled. “We’ll make a detective out of you yet,” he said, “but I think you may have missed the point. It doesn’t matter whether we were having an affair or not. If, as you say, Marshall believed we were, and if he saw us leave the building together, his suspicions would be confirmed, which gives him both motive and opportunity.”
“But what about the second person?”
“Just because you haven’t found anyone who fits the bill doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
Tregalles groaned. “You’re as bad as Alcott,” he complained.
“Do you have any other suspects?”
The sergeant hesitated. “I know this is a bit delicate, sir, but you know how it is—I have to ask. Is there any chance that someone is jealous of your relationship with Dr. McMillan?”
Paget’s face was expressionless. “Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “As you know, her ex-husband is dead, and, as for a ‘relationship,’ as you call it, we are simply friends, that’s all. I hope you haven’t spoken to Dr. McMillan about this.”
Tregalles shrugged uncomfortably. “We do have to look at every possibility, sir. I mean, that’s what you would say, given the circumstances. Right, sir?”
Paget nodded slowly. He was a private person by nature, but now it seemed that every aspect of his life would come under close scrutiny, and he didn’t like the feel of it.
Tregalles said, “If it means anything, sir, the doctor said almost exactly the same thing—about the relationship, I mean.”
A tight smile tugged at the corners of Paget’s mouth. “Did she, now?” he said softly. “Anything else?”
“No,” Tregalles sighed, “and that’s the trouble. I’ve been through every major case you’ve handled since you came here, and I can’t find anything that suggests this kind of revenge. The super reckons it had to be someone who really hated you, which is why he is so sure it’s Marshall. Have you thought of anyone at all who might want to see you dead?”
Put that way, it was a chilling thought, and a sobering one. Until that moment, Paget had not thought of the attack in such personal terms. It was almost as if it had happened to someone else. But now he had to face the fact that someone had waited for him out there that night with one idea in mind: to kill him in the most brutal and savage way.
“There may be any number of people who don’t like me,” he
said, “but I can’t think of anyone who hates me enough to try to kill me. Is that why there’s a uniform outside my door? Do you think there will be an attempt to finish the job?”
“It’s just a precaution, sir.”
“I see.” Paget put his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. In fact, he didn’t see. His vision had become blurred, and his head throbbed painfully. Tregalles had all but disappeared. It was as if a film had been drawn across his eyes; there was a rushing sound in his ears, and his hands were shaking. He heard the sergeant’s voice as if coming from a great distance. “Sir … ? Are you all right? I’m ringing for the nurse.”
“No!” Paget reached out and caught the sergeant’s arm as he stood up and reached for the bell. “No,” he said again. “It’s all right. It’s nothing. The doctor told me I shouldn’t overdo things, and he was right. I’m sorry, Tregalles, but I think I’ve had enough of this for one day.”
“It’s my fault for keeping you talking like this,” Tregalles said. “Sorry, sir. I’ll be going now. Is there anything you need?”
Paget began to shake his head, then paused. “Yes, there is something. Would you let Mrs. Wentworth know that I’m out of the ICU? She’s a good soul, and she worries about me. Tell her that I’ll probably be home by the weekend if all goes well, but by next Monday at the latest.”
“That’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it, sir? I mean, is that what the doctor said?”
“They need the bed,” Paget told him, avoiding a direct answer.
“I’ll let her know,” Tregalles promised. “Anything else?”
“I’d appreciate it if you would pop in from time to time and let me know how things are going.”
“I’ll do that, sir. Take care.”
Paget lay back on his pillows, and brushed weakly at the band of sweat across his brow. He felt light-headed, disoriented. He reached blindly for a handful of tissues on the bedside stand, and rammed them against his nose. But no amount of tissues could rid him of the
acrid smell, nor could he shut out the sight of blackened human flesh.
He was dozing when he heard a rustling sound. He opened his eyes, expecting to see one of the nurses, but it was Grace standing in the doorway. She was wearing a three-quarter-length dark blue anorak with the hood thrown back. Raindrops glistened like diamonds in her hair, and her face was flushed with colour.
“Oh, dear. Sorry if I woke you, Neil. Perhaps I should come back another time.”
“No, no!” Paget brushed the sleep from his eyes and struggled to sit up. “Please come in.”
Grace grimaced apologetically. “I’m afraid I’m dripping wet,” she said. “It’s a nasty night out there, and the temperature’s dropping. We could have snow by morning.” She stopped halfway into the room and eyed him critically. “Are you quite sure you feel up to a visit?”
“You’re like a breath of fresh air in here,” he told her, “no pun intended.” Just the sight of her had raised his spirits, but then, Grace had that effect on those around her.
“Tregalles tells me that you were here before, but I’m afraid I wasn’t aware of it. Thanks anyway. I appreciate the thought.”
Grace tugged a package from one of the pockets of her anorak and handed it to him. “I remembered your telling me that you had never read Rutherfurd’s Sarum, so I brought you a copy. I hope I’m not too late, and you’ve read it since then.”
“Never seemed to have the time,” he confessed, “but it looks as if I will have now. Thank you very much. It’s a thick one, isn’t it? I’ll let you have it back as soon as I’ve read it.”
Grace shook her head. “It’s yours,” she told him. “It’s the sort of book you may find you want to go back to every now and again.”
“In that case, thanks again.”
The silence between them lengthened, then, “You are tired,” she
said as she began to do up her coat; “I think I’d better go and let you get your rest.”
“No!” The word came out almost as a croak. His throat was dry. He coughed cautiously to clear it. He didn’t want her to leave. “Please stay, that is if you have the time.”
“Well, if you’re quite sure?”
“I am. In fact, I could use your help. I’m supposed to walk a bit each day, but I’ve been lazy. I hate to bother the nurses when they’re so short-staffed, but I do need someone to lean on. Would you mind?”
“Of course not.” Grace slipped off her coat as Paget swung his legs over the side of the bed. “If you’ll just hand me that dressing gown at the foot of the bed,” he said.
Grace helped him on with it, then took his arm as he slipped his feet into hospital slippers. “Are you sure you’ve done this before?” she asked. “You look a bit wobbly to me.”
“You should have seen me a couple of days ago,” he said as they made their way out the door. Then, “Don’t worry, Constable, we’ll stay in sight,” he told the man seated outside the door. “Miss Lovett’s looking after me. Alcott’s idea,” he confided to Grace as they moved out of earshot. “He thinks I need some sort of guard.”
Behind him, the constable smothered a yawn. “Lucky sod,” he muttered as he stared after them. “She could look after me anytime.”
A nurse came down the hall toward them. “Don’t overdo it, Mr. Paget,” she warned. “I know you can’t wait to get out of here, but you’ve been out here twice already today, and I think that’s enough for now, don’t you?”
Grace looked at him. “You’re a fake,” she accused. “And that’s the most colour I’ve seen in your face since I came in.”
“I lied,” he admitted sheepishly, “but to tell you the truth, it’s so dull in here, and the only other visitors I have keep asking questions. Do you mind very much?”
Grace smiled. “Of course not. After all, what are friends for if not to lean on?”
Grace had been gone about an hour when he heard what sounded like an altercation taking place outside his door. He’d been half asleep when it started, but now the voices were raised, and he felt sure one of them belonged to Kate Regan.
“What is it, Constable?” he called, then remembered they were both constables, and added, “Hadley?”
The voices stopped, and the man stepped inside the room. “It’s WPC Regan, sir,” he said. “She is asking to see you, but I was told she’s been suspended, so …”
It had been a long and tiring day; and all he wanted to do was sleep. He was about to tell Hadley he was too tired to see anyone when Regan appeared in the doorway. “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” she said breathlessly, “but when I heard you’d been moved out of the ICU, I had to come to tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I feel it’s all my fault.”
“It’s all right, Hadley,” Paget said wearily as he eased himself up in bed. “Let her come in now she’s here.”
“Well …” Hadley didn’t like to give way. “I shall have to put it in the log.”
“Quite right, Hadley, and I’ll initial it if you wish.”
“Well, I suppose in that case, sir …” The constable gave ground grudgingly.
Paget waited until Hadley had gone before motioning Kate to a chair, but she chose instead to come and stand at the foot of the bed.
“No need to apologize,” he told her. “From what I’ve been told, I doubt if it would have made a scrap of difference, because it appears two people were involved, and they were waiting for me back there.”
“So it wasn’t Paul?”
“I didn’t say that at all. He is still the only suspect they have, and you did say you saw him out there that night.”
Kate made a helpless gesture. “I felt so sure that he was out there at the time,” she said, “but the more I think about it, the less sure I
am. I realize now that all I really saw was a movement, and I assumed it was Paul because he’s done that before.”
“You were sure enough that you were afraid to leave the building alone,” he reminded her. Kate winced, and Paget took pity on her. “But I don’t blame you for what happened, Kate, so there’s nothing to be gained by blaming yourself.”
“You are going to be all right, aren’t you, sir?”
“They tell me I have a very hard head,” he said, and smiled. “It may take some time, but, yes, I’m going to be all right.”
“Thank God for that, at least.” Kate looked at her watch. “Sorry to burst in on you like that, sir. I know it’s late, but I had to come. I hope you understand?”
Paget nodded carefully. “But before you go, tell me, how did you get past the desk at this hour? Didn’t anyone challenge you?”
She smiled guiltily. “I was rather hoping no one would ask that question, sir. I used this.” She took a slim plastic envelope from her purse and flipped it open. “It’s my bank book,” she told him. “I just flashed it at the desk and said I had to talk to Hadley. They just waved me on.”
So much for security, he thought as he settled down for the night.