CHAPTER SEVEN

Bryce stared at the computer screen in front of him and tried to concentrate on the words in his report. He’d been at it for more than an hour and a half. It was just as well the station was quiet. Every time he tried to focus on the case file, last week’s conversation with his wife’s doctor kept coming back to him.

No matter how much he wished for things to be different, the truth was, Angela was never going to wake up and talk to him. She wasn’t ever going to wake up, period. The weight of his decision rested heavily on his shoulders and filled his heart with dread. Three years might have elapsed, but the guilt was just as fresh.

“Hey, Bryce.”

Jett strode toward him. Forcing his dark thoughts aside, Bryce acknowledged his partner with a nod. “What’s up?”

“There’s a hot-looking woman downstairs who wants to talk to a detective about a suspicious death at the Sydney Harbour Hospital. I’d do the interview myself, but I’m about to go on a break and I have an appointment downtown. You up for it?”

“Sure. Bring her up and put her in one of the interview rooms. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Will do.” Jett turned and walked back the way he’d come.

Turning his attention back to his screen, Bryce saved the work he’d managed to put together and exited the program. A few moments later, he heard Jett’s tread on the wooden stairs, followed by the lighter tapping of a woman’s heels. He caught a glimpse of a lemon-colored summer dress and the back of a pair of shapely tanned calves before Jett and the woman disappeared around the corner. Collecting his pen and a blank legal pad, Bryce headed after them. He met Jett in the corridor.

“I’ve left her in Interview Room Two. She’s all yours.” Jett offered him a wink and disappeared.

The woman stood with her back to him, her arms folded across her chest. She turned upon his entry and with a start, Bryce recognized her. Chanel Munro. Doctor Chanel Munro.

In one quick glance, he took in her gilded hair, this time swinging loose in a casual ponytail. It somehow managed to make her look younger than he remembered. The yellow, sleeveless cotton dress he’d glimpsed outside clung to her in all the right places and it took considerable effort to keep his body from reacting. The V-neck offered him a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage and despite his best efforts to cool his ardor, he was wholly unsuccessful.

In an effort to deflate his hard-on, he fixed his thoughts on something other than the beautiful woman in front of him. She’d come to speak to someone about a purported crime. The least he could do was act professional.

“Doctor Munro, I’m Detective Sergeant Bryce Sutcliffe You might remember me from the clinic last week…” He extended his hand by way of greeting and she shook it firmly. He tried not to think about how small and soft her hand felt in his.

“Of course. I did your physical exam. I should have realized you worked here. How’s your grandmother?”

Bryce was quietly impressed that she remembered. “She’s fine. She’d fallen asleep in her room and didn’t hear the phone. It was nothing.”

“I’m glad. She’s lucky to have such a caring grandson.”

He flushed with pleasure. “Thank you. My grandmother feels the same way, although she’s not exactly objective. Now, what can I do for you?”

She lowered her gaze and stared at the charcoal-and-navy patterned carpet. A pulse leaped in the side of her neck. Her arms once again were folded across her middle. He’d seen his fair share of nervous people before and he’d had plenty of practice putting them at ease. It was the least he could do after her earlier comment.

“How about you take a seat and get comfortable, Doctor Munro? Can I get you a coffee or maybe you’d rather a Coke? It’s hot out there today.”

“A-a Coke would be great. Thank you.”

“Diet or regular?”

“Diet, please.”

Bryce wasn’t surprised. A figure like hers would take some maintenance. Good genes could only take you so far.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured and took his leave.

Heading to the drink dispenser further down the corridor, he was relieved to realize his erection had subsided. He wished he could better control his responses, but the truth was, he couldn’t. His was a purely physical reaction to a beautiful woman. The last woman he’d made love to was his wife and it had been so long ago, he could barely remember. The strain of his enforced abstinence was taking its toll.

He pushed a few coins into the slot and punched in the Diet Coke code. It fell into the bin and he reached down and pulled it out. He turned and made his way back to the interview room.

“Here you go.” He handed her the can and didn’t even flinch when their fingers brushed. She murmured her thanks and opened the drink. He busied himself by taking a seat opposite her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her take a mouthful of Coke. Her tongue snuck out to lick at a stray droplet on her lip and he dragged his gaze away. With a quick breath, he tugged the notepad toward him and got down to business.

“My partner, Detective Craigdon, said you wanted to report a suspicious death. Is that right?”

The nerves were back, but she took a deep breath that seemed to give her a level of control. When she spoke, her voice was clear and firm.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“All right, how about you tell me what you know?”

She made a quick swipe across her lips with a small pink tongue, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Right, start at the beginning. How long have you worked at the Sydney Harbour Hospital?”

“A little over a month. I started there in early February. I was accepted into a medical residency program headed by Doctor Leo Baker. It’s a twelve-month tenure.”

Bryce noted the information and then nodded for her to continue.

“Doctor Baker’s known in every medical circle in Australia. He’s an excellent physician and demands the best from those doctors who train under him. I was thrilled to be accepted and more than a little surprised. Doctor Baker chooses only the best.”

Bryce inclined his head. “So, you’re good at your job.”

She shrugged and a becoming blush stained her cheeks. Her humility intrigued him. It was unexpected from someone who must know they stood head and shoulders above their peers.

“When I met Doctor Baker, he was everything I expected. He was good-looking, charismatic and a brilliant physician. I had both admiration and respect for him, but it wasn’t long before my impression of him was shattered.”

Bryce leaned forward. He’d heard of Doctor Leo Baker, of course. You couldn’t live in the city of Sydney and not know about one of the country’s most eminent doctors. Apart from that, the man treated Bryce’s grandmother. Naturally he’d looked into the doctor’s credentials.

From what he’d read on the Internet, Leo Baker deserved every one of the numerous accolades. Not only was he an exceptional doctor, he was also a generous philanthropist and had even privately funded a cancer rehabilitation center in the western suburbs for underprivileged women. As much as Bryce disliked the medical profession, he had to concede the man was a saint. Or so it appeared.

“What happened?” he asked, his attention now focused sharply on the woman in front of him.

“He made a pass at me. Actually, it was more than that. He said if I slept with him, my career path would be smoothed out along the way. Any job was mine for the taking. In effect, he promised me the world.”

Bryce frowned. “He actually said that? He told you that sleeping with him would be beneficial to your career?”

“Yes, only there was more. If I didn’t sleep with him, my career would suffer accordingly. The threat was very clear.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him to go to hell.”

“What was his response?”

“He didn’t take it well. In fact, he made certain I knew he’d do all he could to make my remaining time under his tutelage as difficult as he could.”

“And has he?”

“For most of the time, yes.”

Bryce jotted down a few more notes and thought about what she’d said. She was beautiful enough to tempt any man, but what she said didn’t make sense. Why would a man at the top of his game, and according to the tabloids, happily married to a stunning socialite, jeopardize all of it by making a pass at one of his students? And not only make a pass, but follow through on his threats when she hadn’t responded in the way he hoped.

The slightest whiff of scandal and the medical board would string the man up for breakfast. The board prided itself on taking the moral high ground every single time. There was no room for a gray area, even for a favored son.

“How did the medical board react when you reported him?” he asked and glanced up at her.

She studied the backs of her hands where they rested on the desk. “I-I didn’t go to the board.”

Bryce started in surprise. She was bright and confident and far from a pushover. In fact, she said she’d turned the doctor down flat. It couldn’t have been easy if what she’d told him was true. And yet, she hadn’t reported the incident.

“Did you tell anyone at all?”

“Yes, but not right away.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head again with increasing agitation. “I don’t know. I guess I was in shock. I just wanted to forget it happened and concentrate on getting through the program. Then, later, I didn’t think anyone would believe me, least of all the medical board. Where else could I go?”

“So, who did you tell?”

“First, I called my sister, Josie Barrington. She lives with her husband in northern New South Wales, up near Grafton. She’s a psychologist. Well, she treats children, but I needed someone to talk to.”

“Okay and how long after the incident with Doctor Baker did you talk to your sister?”

“I don’t know—maybe a fortnight later?” I don’t really remember. I just knew I had to tell someone.”

“What did your sister say?”

“She told me to report him to the medical board.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“What made you come to the police?”

The woman took another deep breath and let it out slowly. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and measured.

“I have five older brothers who are all in law enforcement. My father was a District Court judge. They live and breathe fairness and justice every single day of their lives. Last night, I visited my oldest brother.

“Tom lives in Sydney. He knows me well. He guessed something wasn’t right. He urged me to tell him what was troubling me, so I did. He wanted to come with me today and file a report, but I told him no. I needed to do this on my own.”

Bryce stared at her. The blueness of her eyes reminded him of a clear summer day. There wasn’t a hint of guile. In his previous dealings with her, she’d come across as genuine and honest and yet, his gut urged him to be cautious.

“Where does your brother work?”

“He’s stationed at Chatswood. He’s a police negotiator. He’s been there for years.”

Bryce started in surprise. Detective Senior Sergeant Tom Munro. Of course. He was well known in the ranks. A good guy and a highly respected police officer.

“So, Tom was upset to hear a high-profile doctor, old enough to be his sister’s father, had hit on her. Is that why he was anxious for you to file a police report?”

The woman looked up from where her hands now lay twisted in her lap and met his gaze straight on.

“No. After I told him about Doctor Baker’s sexual harassment, he wanted to tear the man from limb to limb. The reason he insisted I file a report with the police was because I also told him I thought Doctor Baker or someone close to him might have intentionally caused the deaths of some of his patients.”

Shock waves ricocheted through Bryce’s gut, but he schooled his face into an expressionless mask. No need to alert her to the degree of his surprise.

“That’s a pretty serious statement, especially about such an eminent physician.”

Her eyes narrowed and he caught a flash of anger. “Do you think I don’t know that? Why do you think I’ve tossed and turned all night trying to decide what to do? It’s like the complaint of sexual harassment. Who’s going to believe me? But I’ve now seen two of Doctor Baker’s patients die—patients who had no business being dead. I can’t stand by and let it happen again.”

“I take it you have some proof that these deaths weren’t from natural causes?”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “No, I don’t have any proof. Do you think I would have lain sleepless all night if I had proof? That’s your job. All I can tell you is that Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan, both patients under Doctor Baker’s care, died in the last month or so of strangely similar symptoms.”

She drew in a deep breath and continued. “I’ve asked around. Nobody can tell me what killed them. Everyone assumes we’ll have the answers from their autopsies, but Amelia Arncliffe died a month ago and I haven’t yet heard about any autopsy findings.”

“She died in a hospital. I take it the death didn’t occur within twenty-four hours of surgery?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not an automatic coroner’s case.”

“I understand that, but why can’t anyone give me a cause of death?”

She made a noise of frustration at the back of her throat and Bryce looked at her sympathetically.

“Did you know the patients?”

“Yes. They were both lovely women, elderly and not in the best of health, but nowhere near death. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“And yet it did. Tell me,” he said, changing tack, “why do you think Doctor Baker or someone else at the hospital is involved?”

“I don’t know for sure that he is, but they were his patients. The investigation must start with him.”

“If there is an investigation.”

Her eyes widened in shock and he could see tiny, darker blue flecks in the irises of her eyes.

“What do you mean, if? Surely you’re going to look into this? I can’t be the only one who thinks the deaths of these women are suspicious?”

His non-committal shrug sparked fresh anger. Her eyes narrowed.

“You mean to tell me I’ve scrounged up the courage to come in here and you can’t even reassure me you’re going to investigate? What kind of detective are you?”

Her harsh accusation stirred his temper, but he stared at her without flinching.

“If you have a complaint about the doctor and his treatment of you, I suggest you start with the medical board. As to the other, I’ll consider what you’ve told me and decide whether there’s enough to warrant me spending more of my time on it. If there is, you can be assured, I’ll give it my utmost attention.”

He made a show of gathering his pen and notepad. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a number of pressing matters to attend to. If you’ll give me your contact details, I’ll be sure to let you know when I decide how to proceed. If I do open an investigation, you’ll be notified of the outcome. Will that be all, Doctor Munro?”

She opened her mouth as if to throw more words at him, but then closed it again without speaking. With every taut line of her body shouting her anger, she snatched her handbag off the floor and stalked out of the room. In silence, he caught up and directed her to the stairwell and then turned away before she began to descend. When she brushed past him, he swore he could hear the grinding of her teeth.

* * *

Chanel couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so furious. Even her ears burned with the harsh disappointment of the last hour. She’d spent so much time guessing and second guessing her decision to go to the police station and now, looking at the outcome, it had all been a waste of her time.

Okay, so the detective had listened to her and plied her with questions, but in the end it seemed he’d decided there wasn’t enough evidence to investigate the matter. What irritated her the most was that he was probably right.

No one else at the hospital appeared to be worried about the deaths of those elderly patients. Even Tanya hadn’t thought much of it. But after talking it through with Tom, she’d expected the detective to take her concerns a little more seriously. The problem was, unlike her brother, Detective Sutcliffe barely knew her.

It was obvious her failure to complain to the medical board about Doctor Baker’s harassment had counted against her. If what she said were true, it was only logical to assume it would have been reported. They were living in the twenty-first century. Nobody tolerated sexual harassment in the workplace.

The fact that she hadn’t filed a complaint raised questions about the truth of her claim. That was inevitable. She could tell from the detective’s body language that he didn’t believe her. And then she’d complicated the harassment matter by claiming two of Doctor Baker’s patients had been murdered—okay, she hadn’t actually said the “m” word, but she as good as said as much.

It was possible Doctor Baker didn’t have anything to do with the deaths. The women were under his care when they died, but he wasn’t the only one who had access to those patients during their time in the hospital.

The truth was, the deaths could have been caused by anyone—if it were proved the deaths were suspicious at all. So far, it appeared everyone was treating the deaths as resulting from natural causes. Doctor Baker had certainly intimated as much when he’d spoken to her about Amelia Arncliffe.

Chanel needed to find proof of wrongdoing, tangible proof. Any kind of proof would be good. She wondered if her instinctive desire to blame her superior had anything to do with his treatment of her. She wanted to follow that thought with an instant denial—but she couldn’t.

If she were fair, she would admit, if only to herself, that if he’d lived up to her expectations of the kindly, brilliant doctor, humbly and generously sharing his wisdom with his dedicated students, her attitude toward him would have been far different. Instead, his lack of integrity, questionable morality and personality flaws made her skin crawl and angered her beyond belief.

Were those the reasons she was so quick to suspect he could be the one behind his patients’ deaths? Was it something as simple and humiliating as spite? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t say for sure and the knowledge that she could be so vindictive toward a fellow human being left her deeply ashamed.

Her parents had raised her to be a better person than that. She was a better person than that. With a deep breath, she crossed the street and headed toward the train station. If the police didn’t believe there was anything worth investigating, then so be it. She’d accept that and move on. She’d put her energies into getting through the program and learning as much as she possibly could.

At the end of the day, all she wanted to be was the best doctor she was capable of.

* * *

Back at his desk, Bryce read over the notes he’d made during his interview with Chanel Munro. He’d Googled her family and confirmed her story that she was indeed part of the reputable Munro family. Five brothers in law enforcement and an older sister who was married to a cop. Her father was the first aboriginal District Court judge appointed to the bench in New South Wales.

It was an impressive lineage and one that also explained her golden-tanned skin, although the Google images of Judge Munro had shown a man as dark as Bryce. Chanel’s mother was the fair one. From photos he’d seen on the Internet, it was clear Marguerite Munro was Caucasian.

It was an interesting combination and one that would have garnered its fair share of critics in the past. That Chanel had grown up in a biracial household might explain her confident and forthright attitude. She was used to fighting for what was hers and defending her basic rights. He wondered again why she hadn’t filed a complaint against her boss.

The thought that the man might be using his position to solicit sexual favors from his students turned Bryce’s stomach and sent a flash of anger burning through his veins. It only added to the already low opinion he had of members of the medical profession.

It was time he had a chat to Doctor Baker. Reaching across his desk, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d found on the Internet. It was answered after the second ring by a woman with a throaty voice that called to mind whiskey and sex and late night parties.

“Doctor Baker’s office. How can I help you?”