Silent Scream

Twenty-Seven

The care home was an exercise in symmetry. Inside the foyer was a glass hatch on either side. To Kim's right was a small empty office and to her left was a room holding a couple of desks and a woman wearing a black T-shirt. The gatekeeper.

‘Can I help?’ Kim was guessing she’d asked through the glass barrier that separated them.

‘Could we speak to one of your patients?’

The female shrugged, not understanding. Kim pointed to the sliding doors but the female shook her head and mouthed ‘emergency only.’

For a moment Kim felt as though they were trapped in some kind of decontamination chamber. She pointed to the inner set of doors.

The woman nodded and pointed to an open book on a ledge to the right of the window. She made a squiggle motion with her right hand. Kim guessed that was the instruction to sign in.

‘Remind me of the progress we’ve made in communications,’ Kim muttered to Bryant.

They signed in and waited for the buzzer.

As they entered Kim could see immediately that there were two communities. To the left were the more able-bodied residents. One or two moved around the area on walkers, other residents leaned across their wing-backed chairs engaging in conversation. Philip Schofield droned on about money management. Residents had turned and were looking in their direction; new faces.

To the right, there was very little sound. A nurse wheeled around a trolley dispensing medication. No one looked in their direction.

The woman from behind the glass stepped out of the office. She had donned a badge just above her left breast that read ‘Cath’.

‘How can I help you?’

‘We’d like to talk to one of your residents; Mary Andrews.’

Cath’s hand went to her throat. ‘Are you family members?’

‘Detectives,’ Bryant answered. He continued talking but the woman’s reaction brought a sick feeling to Kim’s stomach. They were too late.

‘I’m sorry, but Mary Andrews died ten days ago.’

Before any of this started, Kim thought – or perhaps it had been the start of it all.

‘Thank you,’ Bryant said. ‘We’ll contact the medical examiner.’

‘For what?’ Cath asked.

‘Clues to her death,’ Bryant explained but Kim had already turned away. She pushed on the door but it was locked.

‘There was no post mortem carried out on Mary Andrews. She was terminally ill with pancreatic cancer so it was hardly any great surprise when she died. There was no reason to subject her family to the process so she was released to Hickton’s.’

Kim didn’t need to ask. Everyone knew the funeral directors in Cradley Heath. They’d been burying the locals since 1909.

‘Did Mary Andrews have any visitors that day?’

‘We have fifty-six residents in this facility, you’ll pardon me if I don’t recall.’

Kim heard the hostility and ignored it.

‘Do you mind if we check the visitor’s book?’

Cath considered for a second and then nodded. She pressed a green button that released the doors and Kim stepped back into the foyer.

Kim started turning back the pages while Bryant held open the door with his foot.

‘Sir, you’ll have to let the door close behind you or an alarm will sound.’

Suitably chastised, Bryant stepped back into the foyer.

‘What’s wrong with you anyway, got something against old folks?’ Kim asked, noting the set expression on Bryant’s face.

‘Nah, it’s just depressing.’

‘What?’ Kim asked, turning back another couple of pages.

‘Knowing this is the last stop. When you’re out in the big wide world anything is still possible but once you move into a place like this you know there’s only one way you’re gonna move out.’

‘Hmmm ... cheery thought. Here it is,’ she said, stabbing the page. ‘Twelve fifteen on the tenth. Visitor signed themselves in to see Mary Andrews with a name that is completely illegible.’

Bryant pointed to the top right corner of the foyer.

Kim turned and knocked on the glass window. Cath scowled at her. Kim pointed to the entry doors. The buzzer sounded.

‘We need to view your CCTV.’

Cath looked as though she was about to object then just humphed loudly. ‘This way.’

They followed her through the general office and into a space behind.

‘Here it is,’ she said, leaving them to it.

The space hardly qualified to be called a room. There was a small desk with an old television monitor and playback controls. A single VHS machine chuntered to the side.

‘I suppose digital was too much to hope for,’ Bryant groaned.

‘Yep, good old video tape. Please tell me they’re labelled.’

Kim took the only chair as Bryant inspected the shelves of video tapes.

‘There are only two for that date. One for day and one for night. Tapes are only changed every twelve hours.’

‘So, now we’re talking time lapse?’

‘Afraid so,’ he said, grabbing the tape. From an evidence point of view real time video was acceptable, as it captured everything in full. Time lapse recording grabbed an image every few seconds which gave a mechanical motion to the video, almost like a collection of screen shots.

Kim put the video into the machine. The screen came to life. She forwarded the tape to the rough time of day.

Kim stared at the screen. ‘Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’

‘Tape degradation. Shit, you can’t make out a damn thing.’

Kim sat back in the chair. ‘How many times have these tapes been used?’

‘Looking at that, we’re talking hundreds.’

CCTV tapes were normally destroyed after twelve cycles to prevent what was showing on the screen now.

Kim continued to watch the shadows of figures entering and leaving the foyer.

‘Jesus, it could even be me.’

Bryant looked at her seriously. ‘Is it you, Guv?’

Kim leaned back and opened the door.

‘Cath,’ she shouted. ‘Got a minute?’

Cath appeared at the door. ‘Really, Detective, there’s no need to ...’

‘We’re taking this tape.’

Cath shrugged. ‘Okay.’

‘Do you have a release form for us to sign?’

‘A what?’

Kim rolled her eyes. ‘Bryant.’

He ripped a page from his pocket notebook and wrote down the tape rotation number, their names and the police station.

Cath took it, although she was clearly unsure why.

‘Cath, you do realise that this system is pretty much useless?’

The woman looked at her as though she was stupid. ‘It’s a care home, Detective, hardly crime central.’

The woman appeared triumphant.

Kim nodded her agreement as Bryant chose to inspect his nails.

‘You’re right ... but with better tapes we might now be in a position to identify someone responsible for two, perhaps three, murders and we would certainly be closer to ensuring they did not get the opportunity to murder again.’

Kim smiled pleasantly at the woman’s horror-stricken face. ‘But thank you for your time and helpful co-operation.’

Kim strode past the woman and let herself out of the building.

‘You know, Guv, I always knew there was more cause to fear you when you’re smiling.’

‘Get that tape to Stacey. She may know a miracle worker who can offer us a clue.’

‘Will do. Where to now, Guv?’

Kim took the keys from his hand.

‘We’re gonna take the ride of your worst nightmare, Bryant,’ she said, opening her eyes wide. ‘We’re going from the care home to the funeral home.’

Bryant shuddered. ‘Fine. But if you’re driving, just make sure it’s not my last ride, eh?’