Chapter Twelve

00:55

‘Here,’ she said handing both her phone and scarf to Shinji Nyarko, as if she was the suspect being interrogated at the police station.

‘Can you pass me that?’

Philippa heaved a tattered sports bag onto the bed next to Shinji Nyarko.

The detective fished for a lead then began transferring the images.

‘The couple who were leaving the ward earlier – they were the son and daughter-in-law of another patient on Surgical Four – a woman by the name of Joan Elsever. I’ve got the name and number for her son, Simon who is her next-of-kin.’ She offered up the details.

‘Did the nurses notice anything awry moments before Jonathan collapsed?’

‘They were on their drug round – no one knows. But I found out that the killer was in the bay when it all happened…’

‘In the bay? And no one noticed?’

‘It was a cardiac arrest call, little else matters…’

‘How did you find out? Another clue?’

‘Not quite; I remember the bay was full but when I returned, I noticed one of the beds was empty. In fact, the bed has been formally unoccupied all night so someone – the killer was lying there the whole time.’ She shuddered.

‘Very clever…’ Shinji commented. ‘Philippa, did you not say that the cardiac arrest call came through your pager at around twenty-to-eleven?’

‘My bleep, yes.’

‘It’s five-to-one… if something were to happen, shouldn’t it have happened by now?’

He was right.

‘What do you think is going on?’

‘I’m not sure…yet, but we are practically at one o’clock now…’

Philippa was fixated at the bleep. It went off and her heart stopped, only for it to be A&E. Another referral undoubtedly.

Where is the next test going to be?

The wait was torture.

Shinji Nyarko was holding his breath too but being by his side – it was as if a tablet of hope had dissolved into her bloodstream. Together, they had a chance.

But nothing happened.

‘It’s 1:02,’ Shinji pointed out.

Another bleep.

She jumped again.

It was not a cardiac arrest call.

In fact, Philippa did not recognise the number at all.

What if the killer had stopped bothering to hide behind external calls?

Effy instinctively passed Philippa the phone as the doctor made a sweeping movement towards the nurse’s station.

‘Hi it’s Philippa, the medical registrar.’ She clenched a fist with her free hand to stop it from quivering.

‘Philippa, it’s Gemma here. Are you free to meet?’

She had completely forgotten about the rendezvous. ‘Err yes, I am… I’m just finishing down in the Chartwell Unit.’

‘Cool, can you come as soon as possible, please? I need to tell you something important.’

‘I’ll be right there.’

Something important… was it relevant to the second test?

‘I need to go back to the Ops room and meet the rest of the team. If I find anything out, I’ll let you know,’ she told Shinji.

The detective reassured her that he would continue trying to solve the mysterious email in the meantime.

As if the night could possibly get darker, the lights in the Ops room felt more blinding. What important information did Gemma have to give? Was it another clue?

Karan was eating a sandwich, his mobile phone clasped in his other hand. If he possessed a third hand, it would have been balancing the cup of tea that Gemma might have made him – if she kept her word.

‘You made it!’ Gemma exclaimed as she paced up and down. Though when she saw Philippa, she changed her tune immediately. ‘Are you alright? You look worse for wear. Come and take a break.’

‘What did you need to tell me?’ she asked.

‘In a bit; we should wait for Justin first. He needs to know as well.’

‘Where is he? Shall we bleep him?’

‘He’s just finishing up on the wards. Don’t worry, the security guys are on it and…’ Gemma backtracked out into the corridor and looked both ways before returning into the room and finishing her sentence: ‘and we’re pretty safe in this room.’

‘Safe? What’s that supposed to mean?’ Karan asked, taking the words right out of Philippa’s mouth.

The ringing of Philippa’s bleep conveyed the fact there was no such thing as a break overnight; she hadn’t even reached the chair yet.

It was Kristen from A&E again with another referral. She was concise- almost too concise as if she had spent the past hour rehearsing.

Philippa accepted the details, adding an elderly man with a urinary tract infection to the Take.

‘How is the Take going?’ Gemma asked, keeping the agenda of the rendezvous on track.

‘It’s been busy,’ Philippa replied. ‘How are you getting on, Karan?’

‘Curse of Dr Balsack…’ Karan said rolling his eyes. ‘Anyway, I’ve seen six patients. Did you still want me to go through them with you?’

Philippa thought for a moment. There was no cardiac arrest call and she should afford Shinji Nyarko time to fathom out the meaning of the email. Plus, the wait for Gemma’s information was melting her soul.

‘Yes, why don’t we do that now?’ she suggested.

‘Sure… you wanna grab a bite first?’

‘I don’t eat on nights.’

‘That’s not good for you,’ Gemma berated in a motherly manner.

‘It’s not possible to eat properly; this thing does not stop bleeping. I can’t get a chance… life of a medical registrar sadly… you’ll find out one day, Karan. But actually, just out of interest, who was supposed to be joining us tonight – you know how we were down a junior?’

‘I’ll check for you.’

Philippa rattled her fingers on the desk, with her mobile waiting inches from her fingertips.

‘Nicole – Nicole Hrouda, but I remember now, she swapped out of these nights to fill a gap from last week.’

‘What is she?’

‘A senior house officer – second year, I think. How comes?’

‘Just wondering. How do you spell her surname? I might email medical staffing in the morning,’ Philippa lied.

The battery on the wall clock had run out of juice at some point. She checked her watch instead. Ten-past-one.

Philippa had become fearful of the lack of mayhem. She tried to fight off images that someone in this hospital had died and was lying in their bed, waiting to be discovered. She felt as though she was teetering on an edge, much like the end of the Digestive that was about to collapse into Gemma’s hot beverage. Had Shinji made any progress? Why would the killer show her clips of Pisa?

She began searching the name on Facebook as her senior house officer presented his patients. In truth, his words floated in one ear and out the other.

Nicole had an accessible profile and Philippa browsed her profile photos. Was there any chance the blue scarf was hers? Roll-neck, t-shirt, another roll-neck, scarf but a green one…

‘Philippa?’

She looked up.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘Sorry, I erm…’

‘Are you alright, Philippa? You seem really jittery; as though you’re waiting for something to happen?’ Gemma asked. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘She makes a good one,’ Karan added.

‘No, I’m fine, honestly. Just been a hectic start to my time here. Sorry, you were saying, Karan?’

One of the patients the senior house officer had clerked, required an ascitic drain. He had done a few of these procedures before.

‘Get the equipment ready and let me know when you’re about to do it so I can come and supervise,’ instructed Philippa.

‘It’s okay, I’ve –’

‘I think it would be better I supervised you – as it’s a night shift,’ she said firmly. ‘I just don’t want to take any chances. Not tonight, Karan. Just let me know when you’re ready with the gear.’

‘Sure, well she will be in Bed Six in A&E unless she’s moved.’

‘Where is Justin? I thought he would be here by now.’

‘I’ll bleep him again,’ Gemma said reluctantly.

However, she did not get quite as far; the mundane stench of the remnants of stressed doctors passing in and out of the room was replaced by the exuberant smell of expensive caffeine, which she tracked to its origin – a flask in Justin’s left hand.

‘That smells lovely, Justin,’ Gemma said, her tanned nose predatorily tracking the scent.

‘Gemma, what did you need to tell me?’ Philippa asked instantly. Her mouth was dry. She felt nauseated to the stage where she was close to regurgitating her sandwich from hours earlier.

‘Tell who what?’ asked a muddled Justin.

‘Yes, now you’re here, Justin,’ Gemma began, ‘I need to share some important information with all of you. It’s about Eric Pails… you need to be on your guard.’

On your guard?

‘He’s an inpatient on Medical Four – well he was up until around eight last night. The nurse-in-charge raised the alarm to me about fifteen minutes ago.’

‘Until eight? But that’s five hours ago,’ Karan chipped in.

Gemma frowned sympathetically. ‘That’s when Eric was last seen to be physically on the ward. He said he was going for a cigarette which he does a lot, and nursing handover occurs around that time. He must have just got lost in the system.’

‘He’s absconded completely?’ Philippa asked. Her heart was racing. This was potentially a game-changer.

‘He’s done it before – a fortnight ago. But this time we suspect he will be coming back; his belongings are all still by his bedside.’

‘Why do we need to exercise caution? What did he come to hospital with?’

‘He’s an intravenous drug user who has HIV and Hepatitis C and was admitted with a flare of his asthma. A frequent flyer – has been in hospital perhaps ten times this year. The problem is, Eric also has paranoid schizophrenia and is a very aggressive and impulsive character. The nurses have always had trouble with him. In fact, he once gave a nurse a needle-stick injury… with one of his heroin needles. You can imagine the stress that caused.’

‘Sounds like a dream to look after,’ Karan grumbled.

‘Thankfully,’ continued Gemma, ‘that nurse’s follow-up tests proved negative or she could have had to leave her post.’

‘Did he get punished for that?’

‘He is under a behavioural contract now; if he commits any crime again, he will be forced to leave the premises.’

Karan shook his head with disgust. ‘It shouldn’t take another incident against one of our staff to trigger some form of retribution.’

‘You should ask Rob, our lovely anaesthetist about him; he has personal experience of Eric Pails.’

‘If he’s well enough to go out for a fag, he’s well enough to be discharged,’ Karan said. ‘That’s how I was trained.’

Gemma giggled. ‘We suspect he’s probably shooting up rather than having a cigarette. Maybe he’s having too much of a good time to come back? Who knows?’

‘Can’t we just discharge him?’

‘Unfortunately, Eric’s of no fixed abode, so we have nowhere to kick him out to. Social services aren’t coping with this one.’

‘And people wonder why we have bed problems in the NHS…’ Karan scowled.

‘FYI, this man is about six feet tall, shaven head with a nose and lip piercing. He was last seen wearing a black wife-beater with his hospital trousers. If you see him… no heroics, please; just let the security guys know and steer well clear.’

Philippa nibbled at her thumbnail. She had been listening harder to this information than anything she had been told all night.

Nicole Hrouda had been yet another name, along with Mary Surrey’s daughter Davina, Joan Elsever’s son Simon, and the members of her team. But for the first time tonight, she had a name she could reasonably suspect.