Taste of Blood

Chapter Six

The following morning, Jane was having breakfast in the canteen when Stanley joined her. Her dinner had weighed heavily on her stomach all night, so she was just having a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. In contrast Stanley was having a full English.

‘Have you spoken to Bill?’ he asked her.

‘DC William Burrows?’

‘Yep... he got some interesting information from the hospital. Apparently our victim, Mr Boon, had an aneurysm eight years ago, a burst blood vessel in the brain.’

‘I imagine that could have had repercussions when he fell,’ Jane mused, as Stanley reached for the tomato ketchup.

He shook the ketchup and squirted it over his sausages. ‘When we asked his wife if he had any previous medical history, she denied it.’

‘I think we need to speak to the surgeon at the hospital,’ Jane said, ‘and then trace the surgeon who treated him eight years ago.’

Jane started feeling queasy as she watched Stanley scoffing his breakfast.

He looked up. ‘Why aren’t you having the full English, Jane?’

‘I had a big supper last night...’

He nodded. ‘I have to say the canteen food is pretty good, not too greasy.’

‘I wish I could say that about my fish and chips last night,’ Jane said.

‘My old lady did a nice chicken roast; don’t you like cooking?’

‘I quite like making a few dishes, but last night Eddie brought home a new piece of equipment his dad had got in a trade-off with someone who owed him money, and we were messing around with that.’

‘CD player?’

‘No, a mobile phone... although it’s not really that mobile. It’s quite big and heavy, and he had me calling him via a receptionist in his van, then he was messaging me back.’

‘This new technology is all the rage, isn’t it? There was a very funny sketch that Morecambe and Wise did with one of these so-called mobile phones... have you seen it?’

Jane shook her head.

‘I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on one. Unlike the public, us cops get used to using radio contact, and I don’t like doing undercover work without that back-up. Nasty times.’

‘Well, you’re out of that work now, Stanley.’

He frowned. ‘That was a bit snide.’

‘Sorry, yes, it was.’ She drained her coffee cup and stood up. ‘See you upstairs.’

‘Right, I’ll just have another round of toast before I head up.’

Jane put her mug in the used-dishes bowl and left the canteen, still feeling bad about what she had said to Stanley.

It was around nine thirty when Jane was called in to see DCI Hutton. She was thumbing through Jane’s report from the previous day.

‘We really don’t need all this detail about the residents in Clarendon Court’s Land Registry history. There are always neighbours disputing boundaries, but I think you’re getting bogged down in their petty squabbles. The crux of this investigation is that Mr Boon was trespassing and behaving in a threatening manner, so Mr Caplan was acting in self-defence, or Caplan assaulted him unprovoked. We need to interview Mr Boon.’

Jane felt Hutton was being unfairly critical of her report and answered without thinking. ‘That’s going to be difficult while he’s in a coma.’

Hutton gave her a sour look. ‘I don’t appreciate sarcasm, Jane. I am more than aware of the situation, but from your reports neither you nor DI Stanley has managed to ascertain whether Mr Boon did actually threaten Mr Caplan with some kind of weapon.’

‘I am sorry if I sounded sarcastic, ma’am. By interviewing the neighbours we have been attempting to discover why Mr Boon was constantly objecting to Mr Caplan’s planning application...’

Hutton interrupted Jane by raising a hand and closing the file.

‘Jane, I have read your report.’

‘But it makes no sense. If it infringed his boundary then it would be understandable, but there’s no connection. I think we need to consider that Boon has some sort of grudge against Mr Caplan.’

Hutton sighed, pushing her chair back from the desk as an indication that the meeting was at an end. She was taken aback when Jane stood abruptly.

‘All we’ve been attempting to do is find a motive. We have also been lied to by Mr Boon’s wife regarding his previous medical history.’

Hutton stood and faced Jane. She was taller by at least five inches and her face was tight with anger. She banged the file down on the desk.

‘Proof of motive is not required in a criminal prosecution. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself, DI Tennison. I have read your report, and I am aware of the latest information from the hospital regarding Mr Boon’s previous medical history. I suggest that first thing this morning you get more details and discuss this with his wife.’

Jane picked up the file and gave a brief nod before leaving Hutton’s office. She could not recall a time during her entire career that she had felt so humiliated. She’d had numerous confrontations with superior officers, but DCI Hutton had made her feel completely inadequate.

Stanley was standing by Jane’s desk as she slapped the file down.

‘Had a bit of a dressing down from the headmistress, have you?’

‘You could say that,’ Jane snapped.

‘If it makes you feel any better, I had one earlier. We need to get over to the hospital because it may not be an easy Q&A with the specialist, what with it being privileged information. Bill has got the contact for Boon’s previous brain surgery; we might be in luck as he’s retired, so we won’t have to go through all the red tape.’

‘It’s unbelievable!’ Jane exclaimed. ‘We could be investigating a murder! We have to know the facts and cut through all this crap about patient confidentiality.’

‘You don’t have to tell me, Jane, but let’s not waste any more time. Let’s first get over to see what Boon’s condition is and then take it from there.’

They left the station together. Jane drove as Stanley had come on public transport because his wife needed his car for some event with his kids.

DC Burrows was already at the hospital, sitting in the reception area. As Jane and Stanley approached, he stood up, draining the coffee which he had brought in a flask and screwing the cap back on.

‘Still no improvement,’ he said. ‘I mentioned to the staff nurse that you wanted to talk to the surgeon but he’s in theatre until eleven. There are two doctors on rotation in the intensive care unit, so I’m not sure which one will be available to see you. DCI Hutton has given me instructions to return to the station, and she’s sending a uniform to take over from me.’

‘Where do we go?’ Jane asked.

‘Second floor. There’s a small waiting area, and the ward is along a corridor. No admittance without permission, so watch out for the matron.’

Jane and Stanley took the lift up to the second floor. A young nurse stood behind a glass-fronted counter and looked up as they entered through the double doors.

Jane held up her ID and explained that they were there to discuss Mr Boon’s condition and, if possible, talk to someone about his medical issues.

‘Mr Boon is not allowed any visitors other than family, under supervision,’ she said. ‘The duty doctor, Dr Wilde, is with matron. If you want to take a seat, I can get someone to see you, but I am not permitted to leave reception unattended. Or you can go and wait in the visitors’ waiting room, which is more comfortable.’

Jane and Stanley decided to wait in reception, sitting on a row of four hard-backed chairs a short distance from the counter while they watched the nurse on the phone. Two white-coated porters wheeled a stretcher stacked with boxes and supplies past them, stopping by the duty nurse. She laughed and joked with them before they headed down the corridor.

Jane was about to go and talk to the nurse again when a young man with a stethoscope and a rather crumpled white coat stopped at the desk. The nurse gestured towards Stanley and Jane and the young man came over.

‘Good morning. I’m Dr Wilde. I’m afraid Mr Simoni is in theatre until at least eleven.’

‘We need an update on a patient’s condition... is there anyone that can help us as a matter of urgency?’ Jane asked.

The doctor went to talk to the nurse behind the screened desk and she made a call as he leaned on the counter. After a brief conversation he came back to them, running his fingers through his unruly curly hair.

‘I can take you into his office as his secretary is there.’

They followed Dr Wilde out through the double doors, and then past the lifts down another corridor. He stopped at a door with a plaque with Mr Simoni’s name and an array of credentials. He knocked on the door, opened it and stood to one side as they entered.

‘Well, she’s obviously not here. As you can see it’s fairly basic. Mr Simoni only uses the office when he’s on duty here. He has his own private practice and works for two other hospitals.’

Jane held up her ID.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Jane Tennison and this is DI Stanley. We are here to enquire about Mr Martin Boon’s condition.’

‘I’ll go back to reception and see where his secretary has got to. Is that all right?’

‘Thank you very much,’ Jane said.

They’d been sitting waiting for over ten minutes when Stanley decided they should just go back to the station and return later in the morning.

‘That young doc looked a bit frazzled to me, probably been on the go for twenty-four hours.’

He was about to open the door, when a middle-aged nurse entered, her identification badge attached to her ample bosom.

‘It is quite irregular to have left you alone in Mr Simoni’s office,’ she said tersely. ‘His secretary should have informed reception that she was not here, and Dr Wilde is needed in A&E. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

‘I apologise for any inconvenience,’ Jane said, trying to keep her temper in check, while looking to see the name on the nurse’s identification badge.

‘I am Senior Staff Nurse Collins. I am aware that you are police officers, but nevertheless...’

Before she could finish speaking, a very attractive young woman appeared behind her, carrying a flask and a wrapped paper plate.

‘I’m back, I was just in the cafe downstairs when Dr Wilde asked me to return to the office.’

Nurse Collins pressed herself against the open door as Mr Simoni’s secretary entered, wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pale-pink sweater and a pair of stilettos. She placed the flask and plate on the desk and turned to Jane and Stanley.

‘I’m Janice White. Sorry, Nurse Collins, but Mr Simoni likes the fresh coffee from the cafe and a sausage roll.’

Nurse Collins pursed her lips and gave a look of disapproval. ‘Rules are rules, Miss White, and in future if you leave the office unattended, please make sure it’s locked.’ She turned on her heel and went.

‘Please, do sit down,’ Miss White told them.

Stanley pulled a chair closer to the desk for Jane, fetching the other one for himself.

‘That woman is the bane of my life! She’s always interfering. I actually work for three of the surgeons here, who all have private practices elsewhere. So, I sort out their private appointments, but the NHS have a different booking system. There’s often confusion as they constantly have a dimwit working on the front desk...’

Jane coughed for attention.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Jane Tennison and this is Detective Inspector Stanley... we really need an update on a patient, Martin Boon.’

‘Well, I can’t help you with his medical condition, but I do have Mr Simoni’s diary.’

Miss White opened the filing cabinet again to remove a large leather-bound diary.

‘Right, let me have a look. Ah, here we are. I see Mr Simoni was concerned about a visitor Mr Boon had; that is who you are interested in, right?’

‘Yes,’ Jane snapped, beginning to lose patience.

‘Mrs Boon has been a regular visitor. Sometimes when they have a coma patient, they like close relatives to be allowed to sit and talk to them and sometimes they bring in little tape recordings of favourite tunes and chat to them about their families, and...’

She turned over another page.

‘Oh yes, this is also underlined in red... Mr Simoni left a note for me to pass to the staff in the ICU that he felt the presence of a Mrs Larsson was not beneficial and might actually be distressing for his patient. I think I did pass this on... and there’s also a second reference to the same visitor. Apparently she’s been in every day.’

‘So is Mr Simoni suggesting that Mrs Larsson has been upsetting his patient?’ Jane said.

Miss White shrugged and before Jane could ask anything else the desk phone rang. Miss White answered it and then swivelled around in her desk chair to open a filing cabinet drawer and take out another diary. She covered the mouthpiece on the receiver.

‘Sorry, just have to take this; it’s for the cardiologist.’

Jane leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes. No sooner had Miss White replaced the receiver than the phone rang again. Jane looked at Stanley.

‘This is a waste of time; I need to get out of here.’

Miss White raised her hand and held out the receiver.

‘It’s Mr Simoni. He’s in the swill room, so if you want to have a quick word...’

Jane almost snatched the phone from her hand. She listened for a few minutes, occasionally trying to interject without success. Eventually she said ‘thank you’ and handed the receiver back to Miss White. She turned to Stanley.

‘Mr Simoni is getting ready for his second operation of the day, but can meet us at eleven thirty and show us X-rays that he said might be of interest. He also requested that we get a warrant to avoid any breach of his code of conduct and patient confidentiality.’

She turned to thank Miss White, but the phone had already rung again and she was deep in her appointments diary.

Jane hurried along the corridor as Stanley caught up with her, then pushed open the double doors and headed towards the stairs.

‘Right. You can go and get me a coffee, because we have to get back to the station so that DCI Hutton can organise verbal approval, and then we can type up the warrant form and get over to the magistrates.’

Jane turned the car around, ready to drive out as she waited for Stanley to bring her coffee. He came out a few minutes later carrying two coffees on a cardboard tray.

Jane took a sharp left out of the hospital car park while Stanley was opening one of the takeaway coffees.

‘For Christ’s sake, Jane, what’s the matter with you? Whatever it is, don’t fucking take it out on me.’

Jane didn’t slow down. ‘I get a bloody bollocking from DCI Hutton this morning about the delay in getting medical information... and now we’ve been in that hospital for over an hour. You didn’t hear the snide way Mr Simoni spoke to me while you were busy ogling his idiot secretary. We have to get a warrant and be back at the ICU for eleven thirty.’

Jane continued to drive with her lips pursed, and neither of them spoke until they got to the station car park. Jane sat gripping the steering wheel as Stanley opened the passenger door and climbed out. He glanced back at her.

‘Just chill out, Jane, for God’s sake.’

‘Really, is that your advice, Stanley? It’s all right for you. You’re just treading water here until your retirement. After all the cases I have been involved with, being assigned here at this tin-pot station and spending hours on a fucking domestic dispute between bloody neighbours, it just feels as though I’m back to square one.’

Jane got out and slammed her door, locked the car and walked towards the station entrance. By the time she had hung up her coat and sat down at her desk she had calmed down. Stanley came in and went in to see DCI Hutton.

There were three messages on Jane’s desk, all asking her to call the number she recognised as Eddie’s mobile. It was the last thing she needed, but nevertheless she called back and was told by the receptionist at the call centre that Mr Myers had left a message: he would be late that evening and if there was a problem, she could leave a message for him.

Jane asked for the receptionist to send a reply to Mr Myers, asking him not to call her at work unless it was an emergency.

DC Burrows approached Jane’s desk, saying he had received a call from the forensic department confirming that the fingerprints on the handle of the spade matched those taken from David Caplan, but that no blood, hair or skin fibres had been detected.

Burrows returned to his desk as Jane began to type up her report.

Stanley came out of Hutton’s office. ‘Ready when you are, Jane,’ he said, waving an envelope.

‘All we need is to get it signed by a magistrate and we’re done.’

She closed her files, tidied up her desk and then went to fetch her coat.

When they were in the car park, and before she started up the engine, Jane reached over to pat his arm.

‘I’m sorry for being so disgruntled this morning.’

‘No problem. I reckoned it might just be the time of the month — my wife’s like an aggressive polecat when it’s her monthly.’

‘Thanks a lot, Stanley! It’s not that, actually. I’m not really sure why I feel so on edge. But I wonder if it might be connected to Dexter’s death. It was quite a shock, and maybe it takes time to deal with news like that; he was sort of someone who was special to me.’

‘Likewise,’ Stanley said, staring out of the passenger window. He didn’t want to let Jane know just how much it had affected him.

Jane sighed. ‘I’ve been transferred to various stations after that Stockwell investigation with the mummified baby, and the poor girl left starving in that hideous old air-raid shelter... it just keeps on feeling as if I’m being shunted around.

‘I think I may have made a big mistake asking to be out here in the sticks. I may have destroyed any hope of being attached to a team handling major crimes because I know I’ve been accused of not being a team player. But in the past, if it hadn’t been for my doggedness, we might not have got the results that we did — not that I was ever given any kudos. I worked my butt off to get my promotion, and I hated going back into uniform for a year...’

Stanley shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting to get into a discussion about Jane’s career. He certainly wasn’t going to mention the time when she had been attached to the Sweeney and had screwed up.

‘I’m not like you, Stanley. I know you’re just riding it out until you retire, but that is your choice.’

‘You said it, Jane. Why don’t you get us to the hospital. We don’t want to miss our meeting with the surgeon.’

‘Stanley, I’m sorry if I insulted you.’ She turned on the engine.

‘For Christ’s sake, Jane, please just leave me out of your angst. I’ve taken enough risks to last me a lifetime, and now I have kids and a mortgage. I don’t want to end up working undercover in some dark alley and getting my guts ripped open by some junkie kid. My wife worries herself sick every time I leave home. Satisfied? Let’s just get on with the job we’re assigned to do, so I can get back home for dinner with my family.’

Jane backed out of the car park and neither of them said a word as they drove to the magistrates’ court.