The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (6 page)

Smith smiled. “He nearly threw up.”

“Not the reaction of a casual acquaintance. Taylor knew her much better than he’s admitting, but in what context is the question. Sex is the obvious conclusion, but that doesn’t mean it’s correct. It’s lazy to go there before we rule out other reasons first.”

They climbed into Craig’s ageing Audi and Ken shook his head. Craig smiled, pleased that he was disagreeing with him; he’d been far too deferential since he’d joined the team in July.

“OK, then. Tell me what you think.”

Smith made a face that said he was still working it out then he spoke.

“OK. Taylor knew that a member of E.M.U. staff had been killed, but he didn’t care enough to find out which one. That tells us something about the good professor; basically that he doesn’t give a damn about his staff.”

Craig nodded. “Agreed. The death had barely registered until we mentioned Rudd’s name. Carry on.”

Smith pushed back his blond hair. Craig had noticed it was getting longer now that he was on civvy street and wondered when the earring pointed to by the hole in his earlobe would appear; hopefully not at work or they’d be having words. Smith continued.

“OK, so Taylor doesn’t care about his staff, except possibly Sister Gormley who he knew by name, and that felt like a professional relationship to me.”

Craig nodded. “My bet is she’s too old for him.”

Smith stared at him curiously but he shook his head.

“So his reaction to Rudd says that there was something between them, but what it was is the question. Taylor’s married, judging by the ring and the ‘Happy Family’ photo on his desk, but that would be no obstacle for lots of men I know.”

Craig nodded again. He was the faithful type but the military and police were full of macho men and some of them regarded their marriage vows as flexible, especially when they were out of town. ‘Detachment Rules’ – what happened on tour stayed on tour.

“OK, so we have a possible affair. What else could have been going on between them?”

Smith knew Craig probably already had a list of answers but he hazarded a guess.

“If they weren’t having an affair then maybe Rudd was doing something for him. Perhaps she was stealing ward drugs or spying on the unit staff for him or…” He paused and Craig smiled at the Machiavellian look that appeared on his face, knowing exactly what was coming next. “Maybe she was blackmailing him!”

It almost matched his list.

“She wasn’t stealing drugs. Taylor could get any drugs he wanted; he’s a doctor. But I agree with the rest. Eleanor Rudd could have been his mistress, spying for him on the unit or doing a work project for him, which I think is unlikely. Taylor strikes me as the type to keep his work tightly controlled; I can’t see him trusting anyone else. The blackmail idea is interesting. You’re saying that she might have had something over him that he wanted kept quiet?”

Smith shrugged. “Why not? I’m sure nurses hear all sorts of things.” He paused for a moment and then changed tack. “Did you notice Taylor’s hands? They’re strong enough to have strangled someone.”

Craig shook his head. “They are, but Taylor’s reaction when he heard Rudd’s name tells me he didn’t even know she was dead, unless he’s a damn good actor. There’s something I want to check with John before I say yes to him as a suspect.”

He started the Audi, listening as it coughed into life. The coughs were getting longer nowadays and their recovery less clean, even with the linctus of expensive engine oil. It was time for a new car. Craig patted the old car’s dashboard affectionately, as if he was patting his dog Murphy’s back, then he pulled away from the university and drove up the Malone Road, heading for the lab.

***

St Mary’s canteen. 1 p.m.

Liam peered suspiciously at the cling-wrapped sandwich in his hand, trying to guess what it contained. After several seconds it still didn’t have a name so he abandoned it in favour of a plate of beans and chips and shoved his tray along the metal counter towards the till. Jake was already there, paying for a plate of green stuff and a tub of something white. Liam sneaked up behind him and gave a food review.

“That crap will kill you, you know. There’re all sorts of pesticides in the ground and they seep into the plants.”

Jake glanced round as the rest of the canteen’s occupants did the same. “Say it a bit louder, Liam. I don’t think the chef heard you.”

He carried his tray towards a table leaving Liam puzzling about what he’d meant. Five minutes later they were full of baked beans and grass and Liam leaned back and slurped his cup of tea.

“Well, it’s pretty clear nobody liked Florence, isn’t it?”

Jake screwed up his face quizzically. “Who’s Florence? I thought the victim’s name was Eleanor.”

Liam shook his head. “God, do they teach you lads nothing at college nowadays? Florence Nightingale? Ring any bells? She was only the most important nurse that ever lived.”

Jake snorted. “I know who Florence Nightingale was. I just didn’t know it was a generic term for nurses.”

“Well it is, so now you know.” Liam gazed wistfully into the distance. “I dated some lovely Florences in my time.”

Jake retorted, quick as a flash. “And they all dumped you because you forgot their name.”

Liam guffawed, conceding that had probably had something to do with it. Jake sipped his bottled water and then asked a question.

“Isn’t your wife a nurse?”

Liam went to shake his head then he stopped himself. Danni worked part-time as a nursery nurse.

“I suppose she is actually.” Liam smiled. “But I remembered her name from day one.”

“She’d have killed you if you hadn’t.”

At five-feet odd Danni might have been tiny compared to her burly husband but she was easily his match.

Jake steered the discussion back to the case. “OK, so Eleanor Rudd wasn’t well liked, but no-one we’ve spoken to so far hated her enough to bump her off.”

“You think.”

“OK, I don’t
think
they hated her enough. Mind you, that sister was fairly caustic about her.”

Liam nodded, thinking of their conversation with Newman Ward’s sister, Jane Norton. He’d dated lots of nurses before they became sisters and met a couple of St Mary’s sisters on jobs in recent years. Laurie Johns, a sister in Obstetrics; she’d been a murder victim who’d met a very sticky end, and Mary McHenry in admissions, who’d been a lady of the first degree. Jane Norton fell somewhere between the two. All sweetness and smiles when they’d arrived on Newman that morning, bending over backwards to do everything to help, but less than complimentary about their victim and acidic about a few other members of her staff. All except Tim Taylor, the big boss; Norton had practically fainted with ecstasy when they’d mentioned his name.

Liam decided it was safe to venture one of his erotic fantasies since Craig wasn’t around.

“Here, I wonder if Taylor runs that place like a harem. You know, all those women and him the big man.”

It was less facetious than it sounded. Practically every nurse they’d interviewed had giggled at the sound of Taylor’s name and the younger they were the more they’d giggled. Jane Norton was thirty-five, but she’d been giggler number one. Jake scooped out the inside of his yoghurt pot then set it aside.

“I think you could be onto something. If Sister Norton and our victim were both chasing the Prof, that could be our motive – romantic rivalry.”

Liam thought about Jane Norton for a moment and then shook his head. “Norton doesn’t have the upper body strength to strangle an adult woman. She’s barely eight stone dripping wet.”

“Well OK then, who do you think did it?”

“No idea, but it had to have been a man. We’ve only interviewed the female staff so far, we’ve a male nurse and two male doctors to talk to yet.”

“What about a patient that Rudd nursed?”

Liam snorted loudly, drawing glances from the people at the next table and a peculiar stare from a woman sitting further away.

“Most of the patients on Newman are women and frail ones at that, and there wasn’t a man there less than eighty-five.”

“So? Perhaps one of them was stronger than he looked.”

Liam decided to humour his young charge. “OK. I’ll start interviewing the male staff and you get a list of all the male patients on Newman yesterday and start interviewing them, but it’s a dead end, you mark my words.”

Jake nodded then glanced across the room. “There’s a woman over there staring at you; it was probably your Florence comments. She might be going to complain.”

Liam whipped his head round to see a woman waving across the vast canteen; she rose and moved towards them. Liam squinted to recognise her, cursing his ageing eyes. When she was a few tables away he laughed.

“Ach, hello, Mrs Boss.”

Katy Stevens laughed at the nickname and shook her head. “Don’t let Marc hear you say that; John’s wedding was close enough to matrimony for him.” She nodded hello to Jake as Liam stirred the pot.

“Mind your Ps and Qs, lad, or it’ll get back to the chief.”

Katy laughed at Jake’s nervous expression. “It will not indeed. Ignore him; he’s just winding you up.” She waved at Liam’s messy plate. “Healthy eating?”

Liam grinned. “It’s better than the plate of grass he’s just had. Danni makes me eat enough of that rubbish at home. Will you stay for a coffee?”

Katy shook her head. “Sorry, I’ve got a ward round.” She raised an eyebrow curiously. “I don’t suppose you dropped in just for the baked beans?”

“Nope. We’re on a case.”

Katy raised her hand. “Don’t tell me. Marc will at some point and I’d rather not think I was working in a hot bed of murder any longer than I have to.”

She smiled goodbye and walked away. As she reached the door of the canteen Jake spoke.

“She’s nice, isn’t she?”

Liam nodded and then added indiscreetly. “A damn sight nicer than the last one; Julia McNulty.”

“Isn’t she a D.I. in the Northwest? Helped out on the Ackerman case?”

“Aye. She’s in Limavady. Why? Did you meet her?”

Jake shook his head. “No, we just missed each other and I’m not sorry. One of my class is working up North and he says she’s pretty fierce.”

Liam imagined she’d got even fiercer since she’d broken up with Craig. He pulled the conversation back to the case.

“OK, you take the male patients and I’ll take the staff, then we’ll start the females. Annette and Carmen are interviewing the nurse who found the body and the boss and Ken are on the Prof. That’ll be nearly everyone covered.”

Jake shook his head and Liam frowned.

“Who else then?”

“Haven’t you forgotten about Reilly Suite?”

***

The Lab.

“You’re positive, John?”

John Winter gave his friend a ‘why would I not be?’ look.

“It’s my job; of course I’m positive. Whoever strangled Eleanor Rudd wasn’t wearing a wedding ring or any other rings.”

Craig nodded. It was what he’d expected but it didn’t stop him muttering “Damn.”

John was puzzled.

“Why? Who wears a wedding ring that you hoped might have done it?”

“Professor Taylor. He runs the unit. I think he was having a relationship with our victim.”

John’s eyes widened. “Tim Taylor! You’re sure?”

“Yes, why? Do you know him?”

John nodded and started to tap his pen against his desk. He kept tapping until it irritated Craig, partly from the noise but more because he was trying to be mysterious.

“How do you know Taylor? It could help us.”

John glanced at Ken then gave a smile that told Craig a woman had been involved.

“I dated his wife.” He saw the surprise on both men’s faces and added hastily. “Before she was his wife of course. They married in 2010.”

As John gazed wistfully into space Craig smiled. He’d worked in London for fifteen years and what John had got up to in that time was anyone’s guess. He knew he’d had a few relationships but as far as he knew Natalie had been the only woman he’d ever loved. John read his mind and nodded.

“It was nothing serious; we only saw each other for six months. She was a nice girl. Miranda Dwyer; she’s a middle grade doctor in general surgery now.”

Craig had just taken a sip of coffee. On the words ‘general surgery’ he almost spat it out.

“General surgery! Is she still working there?”

John nodded vaguely. “Part-time. She and Taylor have two young children.”

John’s nonchalance astounded him. His ex-girlfriend was a doctor on the same ward where his new wife was a consultant; in Craig’s book that was too close for comfort. Camille Kennedy, his ex-fiancée, was in America, and Julia McNulty was safely up the M2, sixty miles away; both as far away from Belfast and Katy as he would wish. The idea that they might meet each other at work and chat about their past loves would have made his hair fall out.

Craig found his voice. “General surgery? On Natalie’s ward?”