Chapter Fifteen

‘What creepier stuff?’

‘I’m surprised no one mentioned it at Induction, but wait, it’s the sort of story that would bring smiles and intrigue so of course they wouldn’t tell you. Plus, the conspiracy remains that it was a coverup.’

‘What are you talking about, Rob?’

‘The ghost?’

Was he joking?

‘The ghost of Melissa Dowd.’

‘Are you pulling my leg?’

‘No, I’m serious. Seven or eight years ago, before I was here, I might emphasise, there was a senior house officer called Melissa Dowd, but about two months into the job, she failed to turn up for a Friday night shift. Everyone just assumed she was unwell; medical staffing assumed she had contacted the consultant on duty and vice versa, so a line was drawn under it. Only she didn’t turn up on Saturday night nor Sunday night. It was not until Monday morning when normal business had resumed that they found her.’

‘At her house?’

‘No; they found her body here on the hospital grounds.’ Rob Gadra stood up, causing Philippa to sink deeper into the sofa. He emptied his mug and gave it an unsatisfactory rinse before leaving it to drain.

Philippa would usually have asked him to wash his mug properly but instead, she simply uttered: ‘her body…?’

‘She committed suicide… she hung herself in the church – the one by the hospital, if you’ve spotted it yet?’

Philippa nodded. She could not hold her cup of cooling coffee still. ‘Does anyone know why?’

‘Everyone was told that she had a history of mental health problems; depression and self-harm but the intel suggests she was just too stressed from work and did not have any prior mental health issues. She was on a run of working twelve shifts in a row and I think she was particularly unfortunate with rota gaps.’ He shrugged. ‘Who’s to know? Some people used the case as evidence that the hospital needed to change its staffing measures but the only thing that did change was sickness reporting.’

Philippa swallowed hard. The means by which this young girl had taken her life, was it a coincidence?

‘And since then people have reportedly spotted her ghost standing by her grave staring solemnly at the hospital, yearning for vengeance… A nurse once had to leave her shift early because she was haunted by the sound of sobbing. Spooky right?’

‘Her grave is here?’

‘Oh yeah, in the cemetery somewhere. I’ve never gone on a tombstone hunt, mind.’

‘This girl, Melissa Dowd – she wasn’t found hanging by a blue scarf, was she?’

‘I’ve no idea. You’d have to ask that consultant, Dr Steer. A blue scarf is very specific and random altogether. Why do you ask?’

‘Dr Steer? What has she got to do with any of this?’

‘She’s the one who found Melissa Dowd’s dead body.’

Philippa winced at the way he used the term: dead body.

‘One rumour even surfaced that she was the one who killed her and put her up on the noose!’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve not had any run-ins with her but you could forgive someone for finding her intimidating. Even then, murder is a bit too far, I think.’

She was certainly intelligent enough but Philippa’s mind toyed with the absurd concept of Dr Steer darting around the hospital like a ninja, murdering Jonathan Wickshaw and calling her with that disturbing tone. Both Tim and Alfred had said however, that she liked to test registrars, particularly new ones. Could this be her sick idea of a test?

Then a poster on the wall just behind where the anaesthetist stood, caught Philippa’s eye and it dawned on her, the second part of the riddle…

‘What’s wrong? You okay?’ Rob asked. He extrapolated her stare to the poster. ‘That’s called the Periodic Table – you might have learnt about it in chemistry at school?’ he said sarcastically.

‘I’d best go,’ she said suddenly. She placed the cup on the floor and battled with the cushions to stand. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Rob.’

‘Why the rush all of a sudden? I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just a ghost story.’

He chased after her and placed a hand on her shoulder. His grip was as mellow as a soothing ballad but his blue eyes melted her like butter on a heated saucepan.

Philippa clenched her fists. If she had solved the clue earlier, Jonathan Wickshaw may have had a slim chance of survival and she could have given the targeted treatments immediately.

She wanted the ground to open up like that sinkhole had done in Russia and devour her whole. She had not been good enough and somebody had died because of it. She could not afford to ease up with another potential test nearing.

A patient may have already died during her rendezvous with the team and like Melissa Dowd’s body was just waiting to be found.

‘It’s not that, Rob.’

‘Then what is it?’

They were alone, out of earshot of anyone. There were no obvious security cameras inside the cabin.

The killer was still out there, she could sense it. She had to check on Shinji Nyarko and relay the new information about Eric Pails, Melissa Dowd and what the riddle was referring to. Perhaps it would help with solving the email video link.

‘Come on, tell me what’s going on. We’re on the same side, Philippa.’

She hesitated as she confronted Shinji Nyarko’s advice: Sometimes, instead of trying to work out who the killer is, try starting with the ones you’re sure are innocent…

Rob Gadra’s grip did not loosen.

She closed her eyes.

If you do, there will be consequences – serious consequences.

This was either a colossal mistake or an ingenious tactic. ‘Rob, in the hour before Jonathan Wickshaw died, where were you?’

‘You mean the lad who arrested on Surgical Four earlier?’

Philippa nodded slowly.

‘I was in theatre with the surgeons. They were doing a complex laparotomy. Why?’

‘You were stuck in theatres the moment you started your shift?’

‘As soon as – and I didn’t leave the theatre once… not until that cardiac arrest call,’ he confirmed. Why do you keep asking these weird questions? Is this your very odd way of chatting people up?’

Philippa took a deep breath. ‘Rob, I need to tell you something.’

‘Of course, anything.’

‘Jonathan Wickshaw was murdered.’

Rob burst into florid laughter. ‘You asked me if I was pulling your leg with the ghost story earlier and now you come out with this?’

Philippa maintained her firm stance.

‘What makes you think… Philippa have you gone crazy? He’s on a ward with nurses.’

‘Then how do you think he died? A young, fit man, just twenty-six-years-old who was going to be discharged after an appendicectomy that these surgeons must do hundreds of, a year.’

Rob shook his head and when his hand fell off Philippa’s shoulder, she wanted it to scale back up.

‘I have no idea,’ he said taking a seat back on the sofa, ‘but it’s also not my job to find out. The coroner will sort that out tomorrow. What was this Jonathan Wickshaw to you anyway?’

‘It was potassium, Rob. Someone injected Jonathan with a lethal dose of potassium,’ Philippa told him, but it was clear from the anaesthetist’s expression that he was not having any of it.

He was literally speechless.

‘Rob, I’m serious.’

‘We never got the results from the blood gas.’

‘Gemma managed to syringe some into a yellow tube and send it to the lab. I called them earlier: potassium was eleven.’

‘It probably haemolysed.’

‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know it sounds ridiculous and I can’t prove this bit happened, but I received a bleep at the beginning of the shift from an outside line. Whoever it was, told me that every two hours tonight, I was going to be put to the test. Then what happens at eleven o’clock? Jonathan Wickshaw – cardiac arrest.’

‘Then what happened at one?’

‘That’s what’s worrying me. Nothing as far as I know yet.’

‘Probably because nothing has happened? It must have been a hoax.’

‘Yeah, the usual Wednesday night kind? They called me again before the cardiac arrest call with a riddle. There were two parts. The first was an instruction to trace the call. I didn’t catch onto it at first but when I did, it was too late. The call actually originated on Surgical Four. The person who did it was on the ward moments before it happened.’

The more she told Rob, the less he seemed to disbelieve.

‘What about the second part of this riddle?’

‘I’ve just worked it out from the Periodic Table behind you.’

‘How?’

‘I’m four before V and three after S, it would help to know, how to prevent a death. That was the second part of the riddle. The killer was referring to the Periodic Table. Four elements before vanadium and three after sulphur… potassium. It all fits. Please, you must believe me.’

Philippa Haven went fishing with her father once when she was very little. She never forgot that sensation when the fish she was fighting against and trying to bring it under control eventually gave in through exhaustion and the resistance suddenly dropped. Those vibes were recurring as Rob’s cynicism began to tire.

‘Okay, let’s say you’re right. It’s still just one death and why… who has it in for you?’

‘I don’t know. I asked whether Melissa Dowd hung herself by a blue scarf because I found one in Jonathan’s bedside drawer. I didn’t know if there was a link. I’m kind of clutching at straws.’

‘And you’re sure it just didn’t happen to be his scarf?’

‘When I spoke with his parents tonight and suggested they take his belongings, they said he was admitted into hospital with a red and white scarf, not a blue one.’

‘Have you heard from this caller since?’

‘Yes – an email. He called to tell me to check my email. He sent another riddle with a link to a video. I can show you on that computer if it works.’

‘Sure, I’ll log on for you. Here you go.’

Philippa accessed her mailbox and showed Rob the video.

He swore. A more apt response at last.

‘It’s a burner email, you can’t reply to it as it’s already disappeared. I thought Eric Pails was behind this and when Gemma said you had some personal experience with him, I thought it was sensible to find out more.’

‘No chance Eric Pails is behind this. This all seems far too sophisticated.’

Philippa’s bleep went off, reminding her that there were still patients waiting for her to tend to. This time it was the Chartwell Unit.

‘Phone?’ Rob asked.

She hurried over and called back.

Effy picked up. ‘Can you come to the ward please?’

‘Yes, is Mr Nyarko okay?’

‘I think so.’

‘You think so?’

‘His obs are fine but he wants to speak with you about something fairly urgent. He didn’t tell me what.’

‘I’ll be over now,’ she said, ending the call. ‘Rob, I need to get going.’

‘Have you worked out the point of the video?’

‘Not really, except the statue is Fibonacci, the mathematician but I don’t know what it means.’

Rob analysed the Periodic Table again, as if the clue was behind the mish-mash of chemical symbols.

‘It could represent wards perhaps. Jonathan Wickshaw was on Surgical Four and four is missing from the set of numbers.’

‘Which means the next patient would be on Surgical Six?’ he asked.

‘Or Medical Six. I really don’t know. But I have to get going.’

‘Gosh, I’m so sorry; had I realised what you were going through… do you want a hug at least?’

She was not usually the most tactile of people but she accepted the offer. It was a pleasant embrace.

‘What can I do to help?’

‘I don’t want to drag you into this.’

‘Are you kidding? Let me help you find the bastard that did this. I tell you what, shall I scout these two wards for you? I’ll speak with the nursing staff and see if anyone’s noticed anything out of the ordinary.’

‘That would be really helpful.’

‘Shall we meet at three o’clock? That gives us about forty minutes. Then at least we’re both ready to take on whatever happens together.’

‘That sounds good. Where?’

‘I’ll start with Surgical Six then we’ll meet on Medical Six.’

‘We’ll have to be careful. The killer could be anybody. We can’t let them know about this.’

‘Just make it subtle, like you’re there to review a patient and I roam about usually anyway. No one will suspect anything.’ This man spoke with such confidence, always. ‘Now you go on ahead. Give me a moment to gather my thoughts and set a plan of action.’

‘Thanks, Rob. Shall I -‘

‘Just leave your mug over there; I can sort it out. And don’t mention it.’

‘Thanks.’

‘How about, you treat me to breakfast after your ward round in the morning?’

‘Deal.’