CLUTCHING A SAINSBURY’s carrier bag, Lambert stood at the head of the bed, staring down at Lloyd’s unconscious form, his head swathed in bandages, a ventilator tube in his mouth, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping peacefully instead of in a coma, being kept alive by medical technology. The heart rate on the monitor appeared to be steady, and Lambert stared at Lloyd’s eyes, willing them to open. He hoped and prayed the man would recover so that he could arrest him.
He heard the door opening but ignored it, thinking it was a nurse coming to check up on the myriad tubes and intravenous drips of the life-support system.
‘You feel cheated, don’t you, Harry?’
It was Ellis. Lambert turned and gave his sergeant a half-hearted smile. ‘I guess that’s one way of putting it. On the other hand, why don’t I just unplug him? Not much point in keeping him alive, seeing as he’s costing the NHS about £750 a day to keep him in this state.’
‘I think once his children find out he killed their mother, they’ll probably give their permission to switch him off.’
Lambert exhaled noisily and shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes for anything.’
‘What about his driver?’
‘We got a full confession out of him, which led to the arrest of McNeil and his brother-in-law.’
‘I always knew those two had something to do with it,’ Ellis said.
‘Yes, but little did they know how they were being used by this bastard.’ Lambert pointed a finger at Lloyd. ‘They were convinced they were avenging abused children instead of subscribing to a plot to rid Lloyd of his wife’s lover. They were the ones who gave Collier the information as to the whereabouts of the two sex offenders. And Hughes left the white van at the factory, unlocked and with the keys in the ignition, plus a supply of sulphuric acid. They switched the number plates for a scrapped vehicle, Collier drove to the factory to pick up the van, and McNeil and Hughes made certain they had perfect alibis on the nights he killed them. And it was Lloyd who persuaded them Yalding had to die, telling them he was a child abuser but had never been caught.’
‘What d’you think will happen to those two?’
‘Well, they’ve conspired to murder, and once they learn one of the victims was innocent, let’s hope they enjoy their time at Her Majesty’s pleasure.’
Lambert stared at Lloyd’s unconscious form for a moment, his jaw clamped tight, frustration and tension showing in his strained expression. And then Ellis noticed him relaxing. The change was rapid, as if a drug had kicked in.
Lambert raised the plastic carrier bag and a glint came into his eyes as he grinned at Ellis. ‘Come on, let’s go and see Sharon. I’ve got a little something for the baby.’
As they walked along the corridors, following the signs for Maternity, Lambert asked, ‘You got a name for her yet?’
‘We decided on Lucy.’
‘Lucy Ellis. Sounds good to me.’
They walked along in silence for a while, and just as they reached the maternity ward, Ellis stopped Lambert with a hand on his arm.
‘Just a minute, Harry. You didn’t tell me about Mrs Parry’s car.’
Lambert smiled, knowing his sergeant’s curiosity had to be satisfied before the visit.
‘It was at the airport. Collier drove him over to pick it up just after they bumped into Debbie at Mrs Parry’s house, and they got there before Kevin did. Lloyd returned it to his mother-in-law’s garage, and we’ve found it complete with the burgled items in the boot.’
‘What about the murder weapon?’
Lambert shook his head. ‘The gun wasn’t there. I’m only guessing, but Lloyd may have chucked it into the sea or river immediately after the murder. And, unless he comes round, we’ll probably never know.’
‘Thanks, Harry. Shall we go in now?’
When they went into the ward, they saw Sharon sitting up in bed, peering into the cot, which was within arm’s reach.
‘Hello, Sharon. Congratulations!’ Lambert said. ‘A little Lucy, I believe.’
‘Thank you, Harry. Did Tony find time to tell you she took fifteen hours to come into the world?’
‘I think he may have mentioned something like that.’ Lambert stood over the cot, pretending to admire the baby. ‘She’s beautiful, Sharon.’
‘Don’t lie. All men think babies look the same, except their own.’ She giggled, and then clutched her stomach. ‘Ouch!’
Lambert handed her the carrier bag. ‘Sorry, I was too busy to wrap it properly. It’s for Lucy.’
Sharon took out a collection of crazy shapes joined together with string and metal parts. She looked at Lambert quizzically.
‘It’s a mobile,’ he explained. ‘I remember Natasha had one hanging over her cot. Hours of endless fun.’
‘Thank you, Harry. That was very thoughtful, especially as you’ve had a busy time of it yourself.’
‘It has been a bit hectic,’ he mumbled. Ellis came and stood next to him and he patted him on the back. ‘Congratulations to both of you. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ll let you have some time together.’
It was stifling hot in the ward, and Harry needed to get out into the fresh air before he fell over. The recent events were starting to take their toll. And he always liked to make a clean exit even though it might seem abrupt. After one cursory ‘cheerio’, he marched briskly away from the ward and along the corridors.
As he left the hospital he looked up and saw the sombre clouds hanging over the city, black and sagging, and knew the deluge would come pretty soon. But he didn’t care. There had been so much death to contend with recently, but now the birth had revived him, and he made up his mind that he would spend some time in London soon and take Natasha out to dinner and to a few shows.
His brightness lasted as long as the weather remained dry. As the rain pelted down, a taxi pulled up outside the hospital entrance, and out of it got Lloyd’s son and daughter, both clinging to each other for support. As they went inside the building, Lambert guessed that they had been told their father was in a coma and had been hit on the head by Collier.
But what they didn’t know was that their father had murdered their mother. They would hear it on the news that evening, which was not the way they ought to find out.
He shivered as the rain soaked his hair, trickling under his collar and down his spine. As he went back inside the hospital, he wondered how he was going to tell them. But someone had to do it, and it might as well be him.