The Simple Death (25 page)

Forty-four

A
t Marrickville Police Station, Troy and Conti met Jim Needham, a young man with a surprisingly big gut. You couldn't stay in the job these days if you carried too much weight, and Troy wondered how he'd survived. Needham seemed bemused by their interest in Cornish's death, until Troy explained they were looking into the possibility someone at St Thomas' had been killing patients.

He picked up a thin file and put it on the table in front of them.

‘The autopsy report's there,' he said. ‘It won't give you much joy. Death by heart failure. There was nothing at the scene to suggest anything else. What, you think Burns killed her?'

‘Not really,' said Troy, looking at the report. ‘But I'd like to take a look.'

‘Be my guest. The only thing I can think of, he told us she was a member of some voluntary euthanasia society.'

‘Why did he tell you that?'

‘We did a walk-through with him, asked if he noticed anything different in the house. Only thing he could think of was a society poster that used to be on one of the walls. Had a dove on it or some of that hippy shit.'

‘You don't believe in voluntary euthanasia?'

‘The moment I feel myself going gaga, I'll get a gun and eat it,' Needham said cheerfully. ‘Fuck that for a joke.'

‘Did Burns think someone had taken the poster?'

‘No idea. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen it. Sometime in the last few months, he thought.'

Conti said, ‘Did you check with the society?'

‘Huh?'

‘Burns told you Cornish was a member. Did you check?'

She was a little stern, Troy thought. Not every colleague would appreciate that. But Needham seemed unruffled, kept chewing his gum.

‘Yeah. Julie was a member. The boyfriend not.'

He agreed to take Troy to Cornish's house while Conti went to the Fine Thai restaurant to get the copy of Burns's Mastercard record from the night Mark Pearson had died. She'd obtained a copy of his account statement, which indicated a transaction had occurred at the time stated by Burns.

‘Nice place,' Needham said when he heard where she was going. ‘We use them a lot. Say hello to Noi for me.'

At Julie Cornish's house, Troy spent half an hour looking around, listening to Needham describe his investigation. It seemed to have been thorough.

‘How did Carl Burns take the news?' he said.

‘Gutted, lots of tears.' They were standing in the back room, looking out at Julie's vegie patch. Already the leaves were shrivelling from lack of water. ‘So, you have her down as a mass murderer, do you?'

Troy smiled. ‘What about Leila Scott?'

‘Stylish. Icy. Tasty. I thought it was odd she came all the way from Beecroft to pay some money, but she had a relationship with Julie because of her mother. I can understand that.'

‘How did they meet?'

‘Through her doctor, Burns said. They're professional nurses, do a bit on the side. Probably don't pay tax.' He looked around. ‘We finished here?'

Forty-five

F
ucking Alan Bellamy,' said McIver.

It was evening and they were meeting at Manly. The St Thomas' CEO had returned from his conference that day, expressed his concern at the access police had been given to the hospital and its records. In the afternoon he'd put a hold on the hospital's participation in the investigation while its lawyers considered the privacy implications overnight. This had frozen the handover of personnel files for some of the staff in Oncology, including Cornish and Burns.

‘I thought we had them all,' said Troy.

‘The union wanted to check everything before we saw it,' Chu said. ‘They got them from the hospital this morning, gave us half early this afternoon, we were due the rest by five. Now they've gone back to the hospital.'

‘We'll get warrants,' said Conti.

For a moment McIver looked like he might bite her head off. He'd been irritable all day, on the phone and now. Troy suspected the absence of alcohol was not agreeing with him.

‘Cooperation is important,' said Donna Evans. ‘You don't want to get into a warrant war with a hospital. Not if you don't have to.'

‘But they can't refuse to give us information about a possible serial killer.'

‘They've already given us a great deal of confidential stuff that's led nowhere. Now we want staff records—'

‘Bellamy has until tomorrow morning,' McIver said abruptly. ‘That's it. Is there anything else?'

‘Anything from the interviews so far?'

‘We've talked with eighteen of them,' McIver said. ‘Nothing.'

‘Cornish and Burns don't stand out?'

‘Not at all.'

Rostov cleared his throat. ‘Cornish was a woman,' he said, looking at Evans.

‘Yes?'

There were a few sniggers.

‘How likely is it a serial killer would be female?'

‘Waltraud Wagner, Lainz General Hospital Vienna, minimum of forty-two victims,' Evans said. ‘They got her and her friends in 1989. Same decade, Gwendolyn Graham and Catherine Wood did a minimum of five in a nursing home in Michigan. Then there was Vickie Dawn Jackson at Nocona General Hospital in Texas, Christine Malèvre in France—'

‘Okay.' Rostov put his hands up. ‘But they worked in groups?'

‘Not all of them,' said Evans. ‘But in this case, I'd say we'd be interested in Burns too.'

‘His alibi for the night Pearson died is looking good,' Conti said. ‘I've got the Mastercard paper with his name and signature.'

‘Are we sure it's his signature?'

‘A staff member remembers him.'

‘Shit,' said Rostov.

There was a moment's silence.

‘He might still be involved somehow,' McIver said, ‘even if he's just covering up. Maybe Julie acted alone, wrote about what she'd done in the diary, he was worried Leila Scott might have a look before she handed it over.' He looked at Troy. ‘Scott and Burns disagree by half an hour on when the assault happened. Any more on that?'

Troy nodded. He'd confirmed with Scott's PA that she'd left her office when she said. A detective had driven the route that afternoon and confirmed Scott should have arrived at about 11 am.

‘This is a long shot,' he said, but ‘he could have mailed the diary to himself.'

Years ago, he'd investigated a warehouse where expensive watches had been going missing. No one could work out how they were leaving the place: the employees went through a metal detector when they left work. Troy had discovered the thief was simply putting the stolen items in padded mailbags addressed to his own post office box, and leaving them in the company mailroom.

‘Check the local post offices,' Mac said to Conti. ‘Troy and I will talk to Burns again tomorrow, Scott too. Evans is going to Brisbane tonight. The locals are on board, they're finding out where Cornish and Burns worked up there. The rest of you keep interviewing at St Thomas', hope the other files come through in the morning.'

As the others started to leave, Mac's phone rang. He walked to the far end of the room to take the call.

Troy was left alone as the room cleared, wondering about Anna and Matt, and where they were. He pictured the last time he'd seen his son.

When McIver's call was finished, he came back, said, ‘Zantac.'

‘Okay.'

‘Where would you buy that?'

‘I'd try a chemist.'

‘You sure about that?'

‘Very sure.'

Forty-six

30 May

The Other says one day they will call me a saint like Saint Theresa yet now they would lock me up if they found out even though everyone does it. But it was like that for many saints, that is a record of history.

5 June

Mr Elingsen, they took off his leg yesterday and you can see him dying in his eyes, he is dead already although still breathing. It is so cruel what they do Carter talks about the war on cancer and the fight and the battle. I have heard him with the loved ones. The Other sees that it is all about him, he can see into peoples hearts better than I, sometimes the emotion means I can hardly go to work and I cant see clearly. Carter just wants to win his war, I heard him talking to Nadir about taking the other leg in a few days, he said it would give Mr Elingsen a few more months. Its like the Black Knight in that movie. Ive seen him after surgery with his head in his hands like its all about him the great doctor. All the nurses see this, even Sara does. Doctors against nurses is the great war that goes on in hospitals that nobody knows.

12 June

Mr Elingsen is with God now. He has been sent there by a special messenger. His parents were here and they were crying but I could see the tears were half happy half sad ones. To be up with God now is to be happy forever the suffering is over but not for those of us left behind. His mother said I told him not to smoke, I always did. If only he'd listened.

14 June

Carter talked to me in the corridor, he said what have you done? I said I don't know what you're talking about but if you have a problem with my performance or any accusation you should do it formally and I shall have an association rep there. He walked away like they all do. The Other says if we are strong they cannot touch us and anyway the doctor is gay and if he causes trouble there will be trouble for him because this is really still a Catholic hospital. It is funny really to be doing Gods work in a Catholic place and still persecuted. The devil is everywhere.

29 June

The devil is back. He went away for a while, like every time. But he is back now. I have seen him in another face.

TUESDAY

Forty-seven

T
roy left the house at seven and headed for the hospice. He had dropped by yesterday on the way home from work and Luke had been sound asleep. Troy didn't care anymore; he just wanted to spend time with his friend before he died. He had time before Mac and he were due to interview Leila Scott in the city.

The old priest was asleep. Troy sat by the bed and held his hand, which felt too cold for a man still alive. After a bit he stood up and rearranged the sheet and the thin blanket so the hand was underneath, giving it a bit of warmth. He sat down again, feeling slightly foolish. Was there any point to what he'd just done? Anna would know, but she wasn't here.

She'd been, though. There was a card in Luke's Bible, which was sitting on the table next to the bed, and when Troy pulled it out he saw her handwriting. He was pretty sure the card hadn't been here last time he came. This was good. He could call her, but he wouldn't. It was up to her now. He felt that strongly.

Someone came into the room. Nice if it was Anna, but Troy turned and saw it wasn't. Archbishop Walsh smiled and shook his hand, said, ‘You're the detective?'

Troy nodded and Walsh turned to Luke, made the sign of the cross above his face. Blessings 101, Troy thought, and watched Walsh standing over Luke, staring at the priest like he could see into his soul. He realised he didn't feel so intimidated by Walsh anymore. Maybe this was unwise, because the archbishop was still a powerful man who had a hold over Luke. But it was interesting.

‘He told me about the deal with Geoffrey Davies,' Troy said. The archbishop looked across the bed, his face emotionless. ‘He's my friend.'

‘It's what he wants.'

‘It's what you want him to want.'

‘That doesn't do your friend much credit.'

Troy looked down at Luke's face. ‘He's not himself. How could he make an informed decision, and throw away his reputation forever?'

‘Because there's no other way. He was fine when we agreed on what would be best.'

‘How can you be sure? Look at him.'

Luke was restless now, moving beneath the covers. The archbishop placed his hands on the priest's chest and he calmed down immediately. He still had his eyes closed, but he seemed to be at peace.

Angry, Troy cast around for some words that might move Walsh. He said, ‘Woe unto them, that call evil good, and good evil.'

The archbishop looked up for a moment, shook his head with an expression of distaste. As though this was not an appropriate moment to be quoting the Bible. Troy added, ‘The victim, Hughes, deserves justice.'

‘Lots of young people have early sexual experiences of one sort or another,' said Walsh, still looking at Luke, and speaking softly. ‘They can't all have justice. In any case, Hughes is exaggerating. What happened was very minor in the scheme of things, most people are hardly affected at all by that sort of thing. A psychologist called Bruce Rind established that beyond doubt in 1998. If—'

‘There was a betrayal of trust,' Troy said. ‘By the Church.'

The archbishop closed his eyes for a moment. ‘What about all the good things our priests have done?' he said. ‘That's all taken for granted, isn't it? You told me you're a Catholic. Do you think it's right, just to concentrate on the bad things? Entire lives of service taken for granted while rare moments of weakness get blown out of all proportion.'

Troy was too angry to speak. He turned to go.

‘You agree with me?'

‘No,' said Troy. ‘But Luke made me promise I'd say nothing.'

He regretted telling Walsh this as soon as he'd spoken the words; letting him off the hook. And the effect was immediate: the archbishop relaxed; he tried to hide it but Troy saw the change in the eyes half buried in the plump face. It was interesting he'd lost control, even if only for a second. The deal with Geoffrey Davies must be very important.

‘It's not easy for you, is it?' said Walsh.

Without a word, Troy left the room.