The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (15 page)

This is someone who walked confidently into Evie’s room and managed to put drugs in her arm, without any signs of her fighting them off. Perhaps someone working in health or impersonating a health worker.

An organised offender plans their killings carefully. They’re often of average or higher intelligence. Well educated, stable, employed, and have good social relationships. Even though they're driven by their fantasies, they maintain enough control to live a normal life. This is someone that you could have a normal conversation with, and who probably chatted comfortably to Evie. She wasn’t scared of this person.

They prepare well and tend to use control measures such as drugs or restraints. And they’re likely to have a dumpsite already selected. Or, as in this case, they leave the victims where they die. So I agree with Annette, I don’t think this is Tommy. It’s far too sophisticated for him. But we have to investigate every possibility to rule it out.”

Martin was sitting with his mouth open, stunned by what he was hearing. Liam leaned over and tipped it shut, making everyone smile.

“In terms of the killer’s signature. In Evie’s case, we have very careful staging with the use of Insulin and Pethidine as in the earlier two cases. But we also have a clean laceration on Evie’s right cheek. This wasn’t an accidental cut, it was a clean cut made at the time of death which John can’t find any cause for. So just bear in mind that it might have significance. Either to the killer, or to someone in their past.”

“No-one I interviewed had a scar on their right cheek, boss.”

“Nor me, sir.”

Craig nodded, listening. But the laceration was still significant, he could feel it.

“Unfortunately we don’t know if the earlier victims were similarly marked, but bear it in mind. I don’t want to get bogged down in this profile, but we’ll leave it up and refer back to it. It’s a useful framework, but we can’t let it blind us. OK, comments or questions anyone?”

There was a few minutes silence while people milled around the flip chart, staring at it as if it could magically yield a name.

“Doc Winter would love this, boss. It’s like an American cop show.”

“Thankfully America gets more serials than we do, Liam. But there’s nothing random about this scenario. The killer has a reason for wanting us to know that Evie was murdered. But there’s been no contact or taunting, so they don’t want us to catch them.
We need to think hard. Why did they want us to know? And what are they trying to draw our attention to?”

Craig allowed a few minutes murmured discussion before he called the room back to order, updating them on his High Street interviews. Then Annette fed back about Brian Murray.

“He’s a lovely wee boy, and there’s nothing suspicious at all there. He cried about Evie all the way through the interview. I wanted to take him home by the end of it. He’s definitely heart-broken, sir, but he seemed a bit scared as well. He wouldn’t say why, but I had the impression that he’s wary of Tommy. All he would say was that Tommy really doesn’t like him. Maybe it’s just the usual protective Dad-daughter stuff?”

“The Kerrs told me that as well, Annette. But they said it was something to do with religion. Liam, have a word with Tommy and warn him off Murray. And chat to Reggie Boyd at the Demesne - he can keep an eye on things up there.”

“Will do.”

Craig suddenly noticed the time. Four-fifty. Time to wind up.

“OK. Joe, can you dig deeper into Hill’s relationship with Evie? Talk to her mother and step-dad again. He’s a vicar and he seemed saintly enough, but there’s no love lost between him and Tommy. He might tell you something useful. And Brian Murray - again can you dig there and see if anyone hates him enough to kill Evie. Annette, meet with Beth Walker again and get more detail on the first two deaths. Liam, is that it from your side?”

“There are a few more things, boss. One of the builders, a spark called Michael Randle, is a wee hard man. Lots of ‘front’ in the interview, you know the type. So I’m following up to see if he’s got any form. And that Dr Lewes is a strange one too. He was wild nervous in the interview, although happy enough to tell us he’d been in and out of the ward. He’d been looking after a baby who’s Mum was still there.”

“Let me guess. She had a Caesarean?”

“Yep. Another one of Murdock’s. Anyway, Lewes got very twitchy when questions came up about his private life. Even simple ones like. Married? Yes or no. Children? Etc. And he was the only Doc who didn’t ask to be interviewed by you.”

“Right. Nicky, put Dr Lewes down on my interview list. If he wants to know why he’s being re-interviewed, fudge it with ‘questions we forgot to ask’. It could be something or nothing.”

Nicky nodded and smiled at him, without breaking her shorthand stride.

“That’s all we have so far, boss. I’ve met the two scanning doctors and there’s nothing there. They did the scans, told the Mum’s the baby’s sex and put it on the computer – end of. We’ve seen all the building project people, and the ward interviews have given us nothing so far. But we’ve only done half of them. It takes a hell of a lot of people to deliver babies nowadays. Gone are the days when you had them in a field and went back to work.”

Annette snorted. “I’d like to see you try it! They’d have to knock you out for the whole nine months.”

Craig smiled, knowing Liam had only said it to get a reaction. It had worked. He nodded him on.

“It’s mostly the resuscitation and theatre teams left to see. You’ll have a few more doctors from there as well.”

Craig sighed. “I’ll look forward to it. OK, sort out the scheduling with Nicky when you know the final numbers.” He scanned the room quickly for any other comments, but there were none.

“OK, summarising. Our killer targets women who are patients of Nigel Murdock and Beth Walker, but so far only those pregnant with girls. They use Insulin, Pethidine, and skilfully engineer their victims into having Caesarean sections. Even when they weren’t originally scheduled. All of that implies close knowledge of the Maternity Unit. Remember, organised killers kill close to home or work, so the Trust is most likely their base in some way. Probably for work.

They want us to know that they’re killing, for whatever reason. Attention, a cry for help? We don’t know yet. But there’s a reason that these particular women were killed. It wasn’t random. When we find that reason, we’ll find their killer. And we have to do it before they kill again. One last question, Liam. Was there anything on Maternity’s close circuit TV for any of the earlier cases? Or Evie’s?”

“There’s no Unit CCTV on any of them, boss - nothing. There’s only one camera at the Maternity Unit, and that’s above the door looking out. There are going to be eight new ones, but they’re not going up until sometime next week. There’ve always been cameras in the corridor, but apparently nothing seemed abnormal at the times of the first two deaths. But then, they wouldn’t have been looking for a killer. I’ll get hold of the tapes and have another check.”

“If they still exist.”

Liam nodded ruefully. Far too many places reused their tapes.

“CCTV becomes standard
inside Maternity this year, and even then, only in some areas. The strange thing is we don’t have
any
camera views for the time Evie was killed. Not even the corridor or door ones. Randle said it was because of the building work inside the Unit. They’re all on the same circuit, so they had them switched-off to connect up the new internal cameras. Makes sense I suppose. Safer for the electricians.”

Everyone nodded except Craig. “But if the new cameras aren’t being positioned until next week, why switch off the door and corridor cameras until then? Why do it until it’s absolutely necessary for the electricians’ safety? Dig a bit deeper there please, Liam. That’s too much of a coincidence. Martin, can you help Liam with that?

Davy, do a check with the Australian police for the years that Beth Walker worked out there. Give her a call and get the exact dates. And check her out with the Australian Nursing Council as well. And I need deep background on Iain Lewes before I see him too. John’s coming back to me later with anything more that he needs answered, so we’ve a lot of basic digging still to do.”

Craig leaned back on the desk, folding his arms, and Annette noticed a sudden flash of silver at his wrist. She peered more closely. A new pair of cufflinks was glinting against his shirt. A present from Julia McNulty? If they were she was glad. He’d been single the whole time she’d worked there. It was about time he had someone to look after him.

“OK, we have what we have, so let’s get on with it. We’ll be briefing every day at four unless you hear otherwise. Thanks everyone.”

They filtered out and Craig waited behind as the room cleared, deciding whether to call it a day or to visit Andy White. Andy won and he took the stairs to the drugs squad quickly, in search of a bit of craic.

When he entered, Andy was standing behind his desk as usual, and Craig wondered if he ever sat down. Also as usual he had on a sky-blue shirt that exactly matched his eyes. He wore one every day, on his wife’s orders. Craig didn’t know how he coped with the lack of variety. He must have loved her very much.

“Hi Marc. What’s happening, hey?” Craig stifled a laugh, thinking of Liam’s earlier mimicry. They sounded exactly alike.

“Here to pick your brains, Andy.”

White was grinning and Craig knew he wanted to be asked why.

“OK. Why the grin?”

“It’s a great day, hey. We’ve found a cannabis farm up near Stormont. That’ll wreck the Assembly’s parties.”

They laughed at the thought of the politicians passing a joint around the chamber, and generated a few one-liners. Then Craig got to his visit’s purpose. “How much do you know about Tommy Hill?”

“Karl Rimmins is your man for the detail, but I know Hill’s been bringing coke over from Scotland for sure. Too many ferry trips for my liking. We got close to making something stick to him last year, and then one of his crew gave himself up instead.”

Craig nodded. People followed Tommy blindly and then he sacrificed them to save his own neck. It often happened when the heat got close to a gang leader.

“Liam had dealings with Hill a few years back, and he doesn’t have much good to say about him either. I know he’s a thug, but can you think of anyone who
really
hates him?”

“What! You mean more than the families of the men he killed on that bus? Or the parents of the Demesne junkies? I could write you a list, hey. But what’s he done now?”

“It’s not what he’s done - it’s what’s been done to him.”

He filled him in on Evie’s murder and Andy’s next ‘hey’ was preceded by the words ‘poetic justice’.

Craig began to think that he was the only one left with any sympathy for Tommy Hill.

Chapter Thirteen

Thursday.

The ward interviews had taken forever. But by Thursday, almost every member of the nursing, ward and portering staff had been covered. Only Sister Johns remained, and Liam planned to interview her next. He was surprised she hadn’t insisted on seeing Craig. Maybe Murdock had squashed that notion with feedback from his interview.

The interviews hadn’t yielded much. As usual, no-one had seen anything. They all walked around in their sleep. But Liam was too long in the tooth to get worked up at the blinkers most people wore through life. He was guilty of it himself when he wasn’t working.

As predicted, everyone but the most junior doctors had insisted on Craig taking their interviews. So his morning had been booked solid again with medical staff. They’d been nice enough about it, but explained that their insurance companies had insisted on Craig and solicitors for everyone. Liam chuckled to himself and hoped they liked the décor at High Street. It was hardly the Ulster Clinic.

He’d sent Martin off to the lab with the last lot of equipment for examination, and his own morning had been spent examining the CCTV for all three cases. It was very thin. There was virtually nothing on any of them. The Trust was on an economy drive and re-used all its tapes. They’d been lucky to get one corridor view from the security archive. Liam was pragmatic about it - it was three months ago after all.

He was lost in thought when Martin appeared behind him, catching him unawares. He jumped, and was ready to launch into a lecture about ‘not sneaking up on people’ when he noticed that Martin had brought two coffees. Liam welcomed him like a man after a month’s drought. He was developing nearly as bad a caffeine habit as Craig.

“You’re a star, son.” He took a deep slurp at his Americano and sighed, satisfied. “You even remembered the sugar - you’ll go far. Grab a pew for a minute while I finish this tape. Have you seen Annette around?”

“Aye, she was down the corridor earlier, calming that Sister down about something. She’s a brittle one isn’t she?” They both nodded, with an empathic look that said women were a foreign country. Eventually Liam potted his cup in the bin, like a man who’d played one too many games of snooker. Then he stood up and stretched broadly.

“Right lad. Finish checking those other tapes for me, then go and find that Greenwood fella and ask him for the schematics for the whole M.P.E. complex. Particularly the area around Maternity. Get one that shows the electrics if you can.” That would keep the young cub busy.