CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bryce hesitated outside the Glebe morgue and braced himself for what lay behind the closed steel doors. He’d attended autopsies before and those memories now gave him pause. Apart from the distinctive, peculiar smell, the place just flat out gave him the creeps. He didn’t know how people could work there day after day.

Aware that he was wasting time, he swallowed a curse and pushed open the door. Having taken pity on Jett who’d never witnessed an autopsy, he’d sent his young partner back to the station. There was no need for both of them to spend the rest of the day erasing the unsettling memories viewing a post mortem could bring.

During the course of his enquires, he’d been relieved to discover both Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan had undergone autopsies. Although it wasn’t legally required, the hospital had opted to do them, and for that, Bryce was grateful. He was eager to discover the official causes of death.

He nodded a greeting to a couple of female assistants who were in the ante chamber counting and recording supplies. They acknowledged him with waves and friendly greetings. He didn’t attend the city morgue often enough to be on a first name basis with either of them, but he was far from a stranger.

“Detective Sutcliffe, we heard you were stopping by. It’s nice to see you again.”

He tried hard to think of the brunette’s name, but came up empty. Fortunately, the other woman spoke, saving him from responding.

“Doctor Wolfe’s already in there. She’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” he managed and quickly pulled protective garments over his clothes and donned a pair of gloves. He imagined doing this ritual was similar to scrubbing up for surgery—except no one would be saved that day. But perhaps they would reveal some badly needed answers? He could only hope. Covered from head to toe, he pushed through the door that led to the main room.

Two rows of at least ten tables each lined the room. Four or five of them were occupied with forensic pathologists bent over bodies that were pale and stiff. The temperature was at least ten degrees cooler than the antechamber. Bryce scanned the room until he found the doctor he sought.

Forensic pathologist, Doctor Samantha Wolfe, was the head of the city morgue. Bryce shuddered to think how many people she’d cut open and examined to determine the cause of death. He couldn’t believe such an attractive and normal-looking woman would want to bury herself among the dead, but there was no accounting for what drove some people. There had to be a reason she preferred to spend her time with corpses.

“Detective Sutcliffe, good morning. I’m sorry it’s taken us so long to get to this. We’ve been flat out dealing with that house fire a few days ago. There were five victims. Three of them were children.”

Bryce nodded. He’d heard about it. Thank God it had been out of his jurisdiction. “I understand and I’m sorry I’m late. I was caught in traffic. Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem. My patients don’t have the greatest interaction skills. I’m glad for the company.”

He inclined his head by way of reply and forced himself to move closer to the stainless steel gurney. On it lay an elderly woman who he presumed was Eileen Green. A cloud of blue-gray hair stuck out from all sides of her large head. It wasn’t the only thing that was large. He wondered what had killed her.

“All set?”

The doctor looked at him over her plastic face shield and gave him a wink. In another environment, he might have returned the smile he saw in her eyes, but something about the creepiness of the morgue held him back. He wished he could treat the whole thing as light heartedly as Doctor Wolfe, but the truth was, he was way outside his comfort zone. As if understanding his reticence, Samantha reached for a scalpel and made the first incision.

With quiet efficiency, she cut through Eileen Green’s chest. After using the Stryker saw to cut through the ribs, she prised open the woman’s chest. What followed was an examination of one organ after another. Each was removed, examined, weighed, sliced for pathological testing and then placed in a large, blue plastic bag to be eventually returned to the chest cavity. It was a macabre, yet fascinating process and Bryce watched in silence, both awed and revolted.

“She has an enlarged heart and serious clogging of her arteries, which isn’t surprising given the size of her, but I don’t think she had a heart attack.”

“What killed her, then?”

Samantha’s dark brows came together in a frown over the top of her face shield. “From what I read in the hospital notes, it sounds to me that she suffered some kind of poisoning. She was seen vomiting repeatedly and complained of severe stomach cramps. I want to pay particular attention to her stomach contents and I intend to test some of her tissues for known poisons.”

“You think she might have been poisoned?”

“Either that, or she had an acute reaction to something she ingested. The lining of her stomach is severely abraded. I need to ascertain what caused it.”

Bryce nodded and then conversation ceased when the doctor once again picked up the Stryker saw and cut through the woman’s skull. He wanted to look away when she peeled back Eileen Green’s face, but forced himself to hold his gaze steady.

It was simply part of the procedure, a necessary part of the autopsy. He had to stop thinking of the body as a person. She’d never feel anything again. It was important to determine the cause of death. It might mean the difference between a murderer being captured or remaining free.

An hour later it was over. Bryce was more than relieved when Samantha put down her scalpel and peeled off her gloves.

“It’s done. I’ll send these samples off to pathology. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer in the next day or two. From what I’ve seen, I’m almost certain she was poisoned. There’s no other reason for her death.”

Bryce nodded and took a moment to absorb the doctor’s words. It appeared Chanel might have been onto something. If Eileen Green were poisoned, it was possible the other two patients had been, too. He was reminded of the need to obtain a copy of their autopsy reports and ascertain their causes of death.

“I’m also looking into the deaths of two other women who were patients at the same hospital,” he said. “Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan. They died within the last couple of months.”

“If you can provide me with their full names and dates of birth, I’ll look them up for you.”

“I’m not sure I have that much information at hand, but I’ll do my best. I have first and last names and can get a pretty close date of death.”

“I’ll see what I can do. It’s been a little quieter than usual around here the past month or so. You never know your luck.”

Samantha led the way back into the antechamber and after disposing of her gloves and stripping off her protective clothing, she began to wash her hands thoroughly.

“What are you looking for, anyway?” she threw over her shoulder, curiosity plain on her face.

“I’m not sure. I guess I want to rule out the possibility of any other suspicious deaths. The two came to my attention a couple of weeks ago through an unrelated source. Now we have a third linked to the same hospital. I’m just being thorough.”

Samantha smiled and winked at him. “No harm in that.”

He stared at her. She was even more attractive now that she’d removed the standard-issue hospital scrubs and protective face shield. She looked like she was somewhere in her early thirties, probably not much older than him, but working so often with the dead had taken its toll. It was barely past eleven in the morning and yet lines of fatigue were etched into her face. He guessed they were permanent fixtures on her otherwise clear complexion.

Still, for all her attractiveness, he didn’t feel the slightest physical reaction to her. Apart from being able to appreciate a pretty, intelligent woman, she did nothing for him.

He frowned at the thought. He hadn’t had sex with a woman for three years. He ought to be more excited when an attractive woman winked at him. Okay, it wasn’t exactly a come on, but there was more than a little interest in her sparkling, brown eyes.

Averting his gaze, he busied himself by removing the protective clothing that covered him. He tossed them into the laundry skip that stood in one corner. As if sensing his withdrawal, Samantha turned away and gathered her things.

“I’ll let you know when I have the results back from the lab.”

“Great. If we have a rogue staff member on the loose killing patients, we need to act fast, before he can strike again.”

She raised a delicately curved eyebrow. “He? So you already have a suspect in mind?”

Bryce shrugged, unwilling to speculate in front of the doctor. She was a member of the medical fraternity, after all. Not that Bryce anticipated she’d do anything untoward, but the sensitive nature of his information dictated he proceed with caution.

“He. She. We’re not sure of anything at this stage. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Who alerted you?”

“A doctor working at the hospital.”

She stared at him a moment longer, as if weighing what he’d said. In an effort to avoid further conversation about the ins and outs of his case, Bryce turned away and pulled on his jacket.

“How long before you can get me a copy of those reports?” he asked.

“I have a little time before I start my next PM, so I’ll go back to my office now and see what I can find. Do you have the information handy?”

Bryce pulled out a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. It was a copy of the details he’d taken down in Chanel’s statement. He handed it to the doctor.

“This is all I have.”

She reached over and took it from him. Their fingers touched and again, he felt nothing.

“I’ll see what I can find. Do you have time to wait?”

“Yes, of course.”

He followed her through a labyrinth of offices divided by glass-walled partitions. Some were occupied, but most of them were empty. At last, they came to hers. It was larger than the others, but despite the fact it commanded a corner of the room, it was without a window.

“You guys aren’t big on looking out onto the outside world, are you?” he joked. He had yet to see a window in the whole building.

“We spend so much time with the dead, I guess it would feel a little weird looking out into the sunshine. Besides, it helps the cooling system to work more efficiently without hot air coming through the windows.”

“I guess.”

Samantha sat down at her desk and shoved aside a pile of files so that she could draw her keyboard closer. Her fingers clicked over the keys. It hardly seemed like any time at all before she announced she’d found what he was after.

The printer whirred beside her desk. He watched while the tray filled with paper. When it stopped, she picked up the sheets and separated them into two piles which she secured with staples.

“There you go. Two autopsy reports.”

Bryce scanned them quickly. Neither of them listed poisoning as the cause of death. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or not.

“So, do they help or hinder you?” Samantha asked with a smile.

“Would you still have blood and tissue samples from these women on file?”

“Sure, those autopsies were done seven weeks ago.”

“Is it possible to test them for poisons?”

“Of course. Do you think there’s a connection with the PM we did today?”

Bryce pursed his lips. “I don’t know, but my gut’s telling me we need to look into the possibility. Would you mind?”

“No. I tell you what, I’ll run the same tests on them that I’ve ordered for Eileen Green. It’ll take at least a day or two, though.”

“I can live with that.”

He stuck out his hand and she shook it. “Thank you for your time today, Doctor Wolfe. I really appreciate it,” he said and meant it.

“You’re welcome to join me over a PM anytime, Detective,” she replied with a smile. “It’s been fun.”

Bryce tried not to grimace at what he assumed was a joke. He managed a nod and then made his way out of the room, past the other offices and out the exit, grateful to be heading into the fresh air and sunshine.

Once outside, he filled his lungs. Even the pollution from the passing cars was better than the unsettling smell of death and formaldehyde. He headed back to where he’d parked the unmarked police car and opened the door. The heat of the car was a welcome change from the chilly conditions in the morgue. He climbed into the driver’s seat, tugged out his phone and called Holt.

“Bryce, how are you doing?”

“Good, boss. I’m outside the morgue. I just got done with the Green autopsy.”

“Yeah, Jett told me you’d taken it easy on him. That was kind of you, but he’s got to learn sooner or later. It’s not easy for any of us and I don’t think it matters how many you watch.”

Bryce let the reprimand wash over him. Holt wasn’t mad. Not really. He just didn’t want anyone taking it easy on his men. Jett had only transferred to their station a few months earlier. As far as Holt was concerned, he needed to earn his keep. Bryce, on the other hand, was prepared to cut his new partner a little slack and if that meant letting him play hooky from a post mortem, he didn’t see the harm in it.

“How did it go, anyway?” Holt continued, his voice a little less gruff.

Bryce drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Samantha Wolfe did the post mortem. She’s waiting for the lab results, but she thinks the senator’s wife was poisoned.”

“Shit. That’s just what we need.”

“Yeah. It’ll take a day or so to know what kind of poison did the damage, but she’s almost certain poisoning is the cause of death.”

“So the senator was right. His wife was murdered.”

“It sure appears that way.”

“What do we know about the other two?”

“Nothing helpful, as yet. I got hold of the autopsy reports. Neither of them list poisoning as the cause of death. I explained to Samantha there might be a connection with the senator’s wife and the good doctor agreed to test their tissue and blood samples for poisons.”

“Who did those autopsies?”

“Doctor Harry Wiseman. I’ve dealt with him in the past. He’s been there forever and unfortunately, has a reputation for delivering less than stellar performances. Too bad it wasn’t Samantha. We wouldn’t have to guess how accurate the reports are.”

“I thought she was out at Westmead? What’s she doing at Glebe?”

“She transferred about six months ago. I’m not sure what prompted it. I remember someone saying she wanted to be closer to the city.”

“Well, I’m just grateful we got her this time around. We have every media outlet in the city watching our every move, not to mention the calls I’ve taken from the police commissioner and the State premier this morning. Both of them are concerned about where this might be heading. We need to dot the I’s and cross every T. You can be assured every aspect of this investigation will be scrutinized from top to bottom.”

“I understand, boss. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash. We’ve got a day or two before the official cause of death will be known. Until then, I’ll do my best to keep a lid on it.”

“Talk to the hospital. Impress upon them that it’s in everyone’s best interests for them to cooperate with us in a discreet manner. Get a hold of the medical records of all three women. We want to be prepared if something shows up in the lab results. Let me know as soon as you hear anything.”

“Will do.”

Bryce ended the call. The first thing on his list was another visit to the hospital. He waited for the usual feeling of dread to manifest itself in his gut, but it didn’t happen. Instead, his heart leaped with anticipation. He refused to acknowledge it had anything to do with a certain blond doctor who went by the name of Chanel Munro.

* * *

Armed with copies of the autopsies of all three women, Bryce and Jett made their way through the main building of the hospital. They waved to Marjorie and Dottie as they passed the information booth and headed up the stairs to the administration area that housed the office of the general manager. They were met by a stylish, middle-aged receptionist who asked them to take a seat. The waiting area was small, but tidy with a dark leather sofa against one wall.

“Ms Healy will be with you in a moment,” the receptionist advised. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee or tea? Or maybe something cooler? The weather’s warmed up out there today.”

Bryce glanced at Jett and answered for both of them. “No, thanks. We’re fine.”

The woman nodded and returned to her seat behind the counter. A moment later, a door to their left opened and a tall, thin woman wearing a tailored, charcoal-gray suit and pale blue blouse strode into the waiting room. Without pause, she came straight up to where they were sitting and put out her hand.

“Detectives, I’m Deborah Healy. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Bryce stood and shook the proffered hand. Jett followed suit.

“Come in, Detectives.”

The woman turned on her four-inch, shiny black leather heels and headed back the way she’d come. Bryce noticed how Jett checked out her shapely butt. She must have been edging fifty, but she was still very well put together and despite her slenderness, she had curves and bumps in all the right places. More athletic looking than skinny, it was obvious she was a woman who took pride in her appearance.

They followed her into a corner office that overlooked the front entryway of the hospital a floor below. Mid-afternoon sunshine poured through the tall windows that graced the wall behind her desk, flooding the room with natural light. Healthy plants grew in small, colorful ceramic pots along the window ledge. Soft classical music played from an iPod docked a little further along the ledge. The overriding mood was one of peace and tranquillity and was a surprise find in a hospital. All that was missing was a water feature.

“Please, take a seat.”

Bryce and Jett took the only two chairs available, opposite her large wooden desk. Unlike Doctor Baker’s, this desk look well used. Its pale, scarred surface was covered with files and loose papers. A handful of medical reference books sat in a pile on one end. Pens were scattered haphazardly across the desk, along with paperclips and highlighters. A large computer monitor and keyboard stood on the other corner, angled toward the general manager.

Deborah Healy took a seat behind the desk and drew her chair in close. Sitting tall, she folded her hands together in front of her and addressed them again.

“Now, Detectives, I assume this isn’t a social call. What can I do for you?”

Bryce raised his eyebrows in surprise. Okay, so the media presence had disappeared from outside the front of the hospital, but it had only been five days since the senator’s accusations had aired across the state. Surely it wasn’t too hard to deduce what they were there for?

Bryce stared at her with narrowed eyes. She didn’t look stupid. In fact, the intelligence in her light brown eyes was plain to see. So what game was she playing?

“Ms Healy, we’re investigating the suspicious death of Eileen Green, wife of Senator Jeremy Green.”

“A very sad circumstance and on behalf of the hospital and all of the staff, I’ve extended my deepest sympathies to the senator and his family, but I’m afraid it’s only the senator who believes it’s suspicious. Preliminary examinations conducted by our doctors found otherwise.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Ms Healy, but this morning I went down to the city morgue. Doctor Samantha Wolfe conducted the autopsy on Eileen Green and she’s determined the woman was poisoned.”

The general manager gasped and then quickly covered her mouth, as if to hold the offending emotion back. Color leached from her cheeks and a little of her confidence diminished. A frown creased the skin between her eyes.

“Poisoned? How can that be?”

“The forensic pathologist is still waiting for lab results to determine the particular substance used, but yes, she’s very certain poison was involved.”

Deborah shook her head slowly back and forth. “Oh, dear God, how dreadful. That poor woman.”

After taking a moment to compose herself, she turned back to them and asked, “Who else knows about the preliminary findings?”

“I’ve informed our superintendent. He’s aware of what’s happening. I’m not sure who he’s spoken to. It’s possible that it’s still contained within the police service. As a matter of courtesy, we wanted to bring this to your attention before the media got wind of it. If you think yesterday was a media circus, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

The woman nodded, her expression grim. “I’m afraid you’re right, Detective and I appreciate you coming as quickly as you have, but there’s no hiding from it. If a patient in this hospital has been murdered, I’ll let nothing and no one stand in the way of finding the person or persons responsible.” She hesitated and her expression turned hopeful.

“There isn’t a chance it was an accident, is there? Like food poisoning, or something? Or perhaps it was an allergic reaction?”

“Doctor Wolfe was certain it was a poisoning, but until we know what the poisonous substance is, we can’t rule anything out. We’ll proceed with open minds until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Of course, I’m sure you will, and thank you for coming to me with this. I can assure you I’ll cooperate fully with your investigation, as will the members of my staff. Let me know how we can be of assistance.”

“I should tell you we’re investigating the deaths of two other patients in your hospital. Their autopsy reports don’t show death by poisoning, but we have reason to suspect otherwise. Tissue samples retained on file have also been sent to the lab for testing.”

What little color that was left in the general manager’s cheeks disappeared. Her eyes went wide with shock.

“Two other deaths? Are you certain? How do you know?”

Bryce eyed her solemnly, almost feeling sorry for her. It wasn’t her fault a member of her staff could be out of control.

“These deaths took place more nearly two months ago. They weren’t immediately reported as suspicious, but in light of what Doctor Wolfe found with Eileen Green, we have reason to suspect otherwise. We’ll know for sure once the lab results are in.”

Deborah shook her head again, looking dazed. “Two more… What…? What do you want me to do?”

Jett slid a piece of paper across the desk. It contained the full names of Amelia Arncliffe, Robyn Evan and Eileen Green, along with their dates of birth.

“These women were all patients admitted under Doctor Leo Baker. We’re going to need copies of their hospital records during their stay, including clinical notes, medication schedules and anything else that was recorded while they were here,” Jett said.

“We’re also going to need a copy of all staff rosters, including nursing, medical, kitchen and cleaning staff for the time these women were patients. We need to know exactly who had access to them and when.”

Fear and concern now darkened the general manager’s eyes and her lips were pinched and pale. She reached for the piece of paper and held it closer. Her hand shook.

“W-when do you need it?”

“As soon as possible and we’d appreciate your discretion,” Bryce responded grimly. It would take a mammoth amount of manpower to collate the rosters of the thousands of staff members employed by the Sydney Harbour Hospital. The sooner they started, the better.

“I-I’ll get on it right away.” She picked up the phone near her elbow and dialed a number and then looked back at them, her expression grim.

“If you don’t mind, Detectives, I’d appreciate it if you could please see yourselves out.”

Bryce nodded. “We’ll be in touch. Call as soon as you have that paperwork.”