Chapter Nine

AS TIM AND Verity arrived at the Pilgrim Hospital, the fog seemed to be getting denser. Inside, the hospital was suffocatingly warm. People in wet coats sitting in the corridors and waiting areas contributed to the humidity.

When Tim announced himself, the male receptionist turned away to a cubby-hole of a back office and made a call. He emerged looking cheerful.

“Mrs Grummett’s awake and able to see you, though she’s been sedated. There’ll be a nurse with you when you talk to her. She may not remember much at the moment. The doctor stresses that she mustn’t be upset. Some of her family are with her. She’s on the third floor. Staff Nurse Shaw will meet you at the lift and escort you.”

“Is it my imagination, or was he treating us like disruptives?” Tim asked as they walked away. “And ‘escort’, indeed! Where did he get that from?”

Verity shrugged.

“Most people behave unnaturally when they’re talking to a police officer.”

“I suppose you’re right. I can’t say I’ve noticed.”

Staff Nurse Shaw was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a loping gait. Apparently he had no phobias about policemen.

“If you’d just wait right here,” he said, gesturing to a small waiting room containing some chairs and a television screen, “I’ll check that Ruby’s ready for you.”

He was back in a couple of minutes.

“She’s got family with her but they say they’re leaving. Her husband would like to stay. That OK with you?” He flashed Verity a broad smile.

“Yes, that’s fine,” said Tim. He was watching Ivan and Elsie Grummett through the glass screen of the little waiting room. They were heading for the stairs, he with his hands in his pockets, she close behind him. They seemed to be in some hurry.

“Ah, there they go,” said Staff Nurse Shaw. “You follow me, now.”

Ruby Grummett was sitting up in bed. She’d removed her dress but wasn’t wearing a hospital gown. Her short, plump body was encased in a fearsomely unyielding all-in-one foundation garment. Its broad white straps cut deep into her shoulders, the flesh bulging around them. Sitting on a chair beside the bed was a stocky man, also short, whose baldness was relieved by a few tufts of grey hair sticking up above his ears. He had curiously fat and blubbery lips.

“The police are here, Ruby love,” he said.

Ruby Grummett lay back on the pillows and passed a hand rather theatrically across her black button eyes. She started muttering, but in a voice so low that Tim couldn’t catch what she was saying. He picked up that she had a very strong regional accent, stronger than either her husband’s or Kayleigh’s. The skin around her mouth was pursed and cross-hatched with wrinkles. She looked older than her husband.

Bob Grummett leaned across and awkwardly grasped her other hand.

“There’s nothing to worry about, duckie. They just want to ask you a few questions. If you get tired, just tell them and they’ll go away.” He turned to Tim. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

“We don’t want to put Mrs Grummett under further strain,” said Tim, “but the sooner we can collect witness statements after an accident, the better.” He addressed Ruby directly. “If you can just manage to talk to us for ten minutes or so, Mrs Grummett, we’d be grateful.”

She nodded and rolled her eyes, clinging on to her husband’s hand. It struck Tim she was overdoing it, though this might have been uncharitable of him. When she spoke again, the words were more distinct.

“How’s Fred?”

Tim looked blank.

“Fred Lister, the lorry driver,” Verity said quietly to Tim. “I think he’s survived.” She looked at Staff Nurse Shaw for confirmation.

“He is alive,” he whispered. “But only just. His mate died instantly, though they brought him here. I don’t think you should tell her that.”

Tim took a step closer to the bed.

“Fred’s alive,” he said, “but poorly.”

She nodded, her face creasing.

“Mrs Grummett, can you tell us exactly what happened at the crossing, just as you remember it? If there are parts of the accident that you don’t remember, tell us that, too.”

She looked at him blankly.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” said Verity soothingly. “It’s been a very foggy day, hasn’t it? I doubt if many people came to use the crossing, did they?”

Ruby shook her head.

“No. Just the postman and the milkman. I didn’t think Fred would be out today, but he said he’d had a rush job on.”

“Did he come to the door to ask you to open the gates?”

“Yes. I was going to have a bath. I came out in my dressing-gown. I was wearing Bob’s slippers. I knew the Skegness train hadn’t gone by, but I thought they’d cancelled it. The system said the line was clear. It did! I checked! It said it was clear.” The words had come tumbling faster and faster. She began to rock backwards and forwards in the bed.

“DI Yates, I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to have to say that’s it for today. She’s still too distressed to have a calm conversation with you. Dr Butler asked me to make sure that she didn’t get agitated. She’ll still be here tomorrow. She’ll probably make more sense then.”

Tim nodded. He felt thwarted, especially as he suspected that although the woman was undoubtedly upset, she was hamming up the trauma.

“Of course,” he said aloud. “Mr Grummett, could I have a word with you before we leave?”

Bob Grummett met his eye. He saw the same half-shifty, half-insolent expression that he’d noted when he’d spoken to Ivan Grummett. Unlike Ivan, Bob also appeared to be afraid of something. He looked away quickly, brought himself creakingly to his feet and followed Tim out into the foyer.

“First of all, I’m very sorry that you’re all having to suffer like this. It must be terrible for you, losing your home and having all the worry of looking after your wife.”

The man relaxed visibly.

“We’ve cordoned off your house as a possible crime scene at the moment.” Bob Grummett’s head jerked back in an involuntary gesture of panic.

“They can’t prosecute her, can they? They can’t make out it was her fault?”

“It’s possible that Mrs Grummett will be prosecuted, but I wouldn’t dwell on it too much at the moment. In all probability, the coroner will decide it was an accident. But there’ll have to be an inquest. It’s also possible the railway company will be found negligent. I wouldn’t worry your wife with any of this until she’s recovered. But I must ask you not to attempt to go back into the house to retrieve anything at the moment. The building is dangerously damaged. We’ve put a police guard on it, so you needn’t be afraid of anyone else getting in. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

Bob Grummett’s ruddy face paled noticeably. It was as if the enormity of what had happened had just hit him.

“I suppose I can go to Ivan’s. Or to my other brother – David’s. He lives in Boston.”

“He might be a better bet, as we’ll want to talk to Mrs Grummett again tomorrow and I assume you’d like to be here again?”

He nodded.

“Thank you. We’ll come at 11.00 a.m., if that suits you? I understand the doctor wants to see her first.”

He nodded again. Tim wasn’t sure that he was really taking in what was being said to him. Nevertheless, he decided to plough on.

“There’s just one other thing, Mr Grummett.”

Immediately a shutter came down on Bob Grummett’s face. His expression was transformed from that of a sad and helpless man in late middle age to something a lot more shifty and unpleasant.

“Oh?” he said.

“Your daughter Kayleigh was worried about a pyjama case and insisted that your brother Ivan retrieved it from the house – against specific police instructions not to go in, I might add. We wanted to bag it because it was contaminated, but your daughter wouldn’t give it up until her attention was distracted by someone else. Subsequently, one of my officers opened it up and found that it contained a very large sum of money. Can you tell me how it got there, or perhaps I should say, where it came from?”

Bob Grummett’s mental agility barely exceeded his daughter’s. His eyes flickered as he struggled to make up a plausible excuse. Finally he shrugged.

“That’s Kayleigh for you. Always been a bit of a hoarder. I suppose she just saved it up out of her wages. We’ve no time for banks in our family.”

“I see,” said Tim. “Thank you. Both your daughters are all right, by the way. They’re staying with your neighbour.”

Again Bob Grummett looked blank. Eventually he tried an uncertain smile.

“That was good of Peter,” he said.