Kay snatched the parking ticket from the machine before hurrying over a pedestrian crossing and through the main doors of Maidstone Hospital.
Barnes held up his hand from the other end of a wide tiled corridor when he saw her, his phone to his ear.
She waited while he finished the call, running her gaze over the various signposted wards and departments displayed in colour-coordinated wording on the wall beside her, a shiver crawling across her shoulders at the memory of Adam’s attack last week.
The clatter of glass and crockery reached her from the cafeteria off to the left, and she turned away from the worried stares that met her gaze as patients, family members or friends tried to spend a few moments in contemplation.
‘Guv, that was Gavin – he says the flat’s been secured, and the neighbour has the keys.’ Barnes tucked his phone into his pocket and nudged her arm. ‘Xander’s in a room down this way.’
Their shoes echoed off the polished floor as they negotiated a steady stream of porters, orderlies and nurses criss-crossing their way through the depths of the hospital. Cavernous openings along the maze of corridors led to specialised areas – radiology, pathology, cardiology.
All of it passed by Kay in a blur while she wondered whether they would get any answers from Xander tonight, or whether the severity of his injuries would mean a long wait before his doctors let him talk to the police.
‘Up these stairs,’ said Barnes, holding open a fireproof door for her. ‘They moved him up to the acute medical unit. He’s a lucky bastard in some respects – no internal bleeding, but he’s got bruising and a broken rib apparently. They’re going to keep him in for a couple of days to make sure about the bleeding though.’
‘He’s in good hands here,’ she replied. ‘And at least we know where he is, right?’
‘Gavin mentioned you found the drugs nicked from Adam’s surgery at Xander’s place?’
‘We were trying to work out if whoever did this to him stole anything from him, like a laptop or something.’ Kay paused, her hand on the door leading off from the first-floor landing. ‘I have to say, I didn’t expect the drugs.’
Barnes followed her into the corridor, shaking his head.
She noticed the atmosphere was different up here, calmer.
Despite an undercurrent of practised efficiency – after all, most of the patients in these wards were in a critical condition – the overall sense that Kay felt was quiet determination.
The volume of voices was lower, so much so that she could hear the persistent rumble of the air conditioning vents above her head.
‘He’s along here,’ said Barnes, pointing to a nurses’ station.
The ward sister looked up from a clipboard as they approached, and gave a tired smile.
‘Back so soon, Detective Barnes?’
‘My inspector, Kay Hunter,’ he said by way of introduction. ‘We wondered whether there had been any improvement in your patient, and whether we could talk to him yet?’
The nurse pursed her lips. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be talking to Xander tonight, detectives. His doctor has just been up here to check on him, and he’s been given a mild sedative. After that, it’ll be family only from tomorrow until he receives the all-clear.’
‘All right,’ said Kay, thanking the nurse and turning away from the desk. ‘I’m going to ask Sharp to authorise a constable to stay on duty up here until Xander talks to one of us. Given we’ve got two ketamine deaths on our hands, and the theft, I believe young Mr Beech could be a flight risk in the circumstances.’
‘Sounds like a good plan, guv. I’ll make sure he’s interviewed as soon as he wakes up.’
‘That’s going to make for an interesting discussion…’ Kay’s phone buzzed, and she read the new text message. ‘Good. Laura says she’s spoken to the laboratory, cited Peter Gregor’s name and arranged for testing to be done tomorrow on the drugs found in Xander’s flat.’
Barnes grinned. ‘She learns fast.’
‘Well, as long as she doesn’t expect that sort of turnaround on every case she works on, she’ll be fine.’
Barnes’s smile faded, his expression becoming concerned as she heard heavy footsteps behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw a man she recognised as Damian Beech hurrying towards them, wearing a motorbike jacket and cradling a full-face helmet under one arm as he ran a leather-gloved hand through his hair.
‘Detective Barnes?’ He shook hands with the older detective, who introduced Kay before gesturing to the closed doors.
‘The nurse tells us they’ve made Xander comfortable for the night, but I’m sure she’ll be able to tell you more.’
‘Thanks. Do you know who did this to him?’
‘Early days, Damian, but we’ve got officers taking statements from the neighbours and we’ll be checking any CCTV cameras in the area.’
‘As soon as I heard I had to come here. He’s all I’ve got.’
‘What about the rest of your family?’ said Barnes.
Damian grimaced. ‘Our dad died about ten years ago, and we don’t talk to our mother – she walked out on us when I was six years old.’
Kay placed her hand on his arm. ‘We’ve got some questions of our own we’d like to ask you. Have a word with the ward sister and get an update about your brother, and then we’ll go and get a coffee downstairs.’