The Infirmary (DCI Ryan Mysteries prequel)(42)

He looked over at Lowerson and judged it was time to throw him some more responsibility.

“Jack, you’ve been looking into Sharon’s son, Will. What has that thrown up?”

“He hasn’t got any previous,” Lowerson said. “But he’s currently suspended from university, pending an investigation into alleged drug offences. His mother knew about it and he admits they argued the night before she died.”

“So he’s changed his statement?”

“Yeah. We believe his housemate may also be involved but that’s more of a hunch.”

“It’ll probably be right,” Ryan said. “Bring her in for questioning, if you think you’ll get anything out of it.”

Lowerson nodded. “The upshot is, Will Cooper doesn’t have a reliable alibi for the time his mother died. Her neighbour remembers him arriving the previous night but doesn’t recall when Cooper left. His housemate—or girlfriend and suspected business partner—claims he was in the house from eleven p.m. until the next day. She stuck to her story when we followed it up with her, but a cynic would say her evidence is unreliable.”

Ryan’s lips twitched.

“Alright. I want you to keep digging. There’s no smoke without fire, so keep sweating him for information, speak to his supervisor and get hold of the documents relating to his suspension.”

Lowerson took a hasty note.

“In the meantime, let’s focus on CCTV,” Ryan turned back to the room. “We need to ask ourselves: how did Sharon’s killer know her home address or where to find her? If we assume he’s a stranger, then the logical conclusion would be that he followed her home at some point prior to killing her or just before.”

He looked at Phillips.

“Where are we with the CCTV around Tynemouth?”

Phillips swallowed the last Hula Hoop and licked the tip of his finger before answering.

“I’m still waiting for the footage from the Metro station,” he said. “I’ve chased them up. We’ve got plenty from the cameras on the High Street but it’s dark and patchy. If we give Will Cooper the benefit of the doubt and assume he’s telling the truth when he says he left his mother’s house around ten, that gives us a window of between ten p.m. on Saturday night and eleven a.m. the following morning to find our man.”

“And are there any potentials?”

Phillips blew out a noisy breath.

“Plenty of people stumbling out o’ the pubs,” he said. “But it’s the cars I’m interested in. Seems unlikely he would have walked along the High Street and risk being caught on camera. Much more likely he drove to her place, so I’ve got the team going through the footage now, logging every car in the vicinity within that timeframe. But it’s going to take days, guv, unless we get lucky and something comes through from the Metro station.”

Ryan felt his heart sink but kept a smile pasted on his face. Part of his job was to keep his team motivated, even when he could find little to motivate himself.

“That’s great, Frank. Keep at it and maybe we’ll get lucky. Compare any cars they find with the footage from Isobel Harris’s place in Jarrow.”

“Er, about that,” Phillips began.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, already anticipating what was to come.

“Most of the cameras weren’t working, so we’ve got next to nothing. Just the speed cameras and the Metro, but there’s nothing to see on there.”

Ryan looked away while he gathered his thoughts. It was a major blow and he had hoped they’d have a bit of luck. He wished there was more time, that he had more resources.

Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

*

Everything felt heavy.

Nicola lay with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling as she waited for Death to return. It seemed a long time since he’d last appeared, but she’d lost all sense of time. Was it hours, days, or weeks since she’d led him willingly into her home?

She thought of Lucy Westenra throwing open her bedroom window to Dracula, unwittingly letting in the demon that would kill her. She had made the same mistake and knew that his would be the last face she ever saw. That was her punishment.

Except, it would not be his face. He kept it covered at all times.

For a delirious moment, she imagined tearing away his mask and using his own knife against him, slicing away the layers of his face until his evil was gone from the world. She smiled through her pain.

Pain.

She hadn’t really felt pain until now, she realised. Her body was racked with agony. Every inch of her throbbed and every nerve ending screamed.

Suddenly, she realised what that meant.

The drugs were wearing off.

She was still alive.

*

Having left instructions for his team, Ryan made his way back to the Royal Victoria Infirmary with Phillips in search of a second opinion. They had known Jeff Pinter for years and, until recently, had trusted him implicitly. But as Phillips had already observed, cases such as these bred mistrust and, when a person chose to lie by omission, it made matters worse. They owed a duty of care to the women who had died to ensure no stone was left unturned.

All roads seemed to lead back to the hospital.

With hospital parking at a premium, they used the nearby Claremont Road car park. The road itself was a long one, giving easy access to the city centre and Exhibition Park to the east and the university medical and dental schools and the hospital to the south. A long row of smart three and four-storey houses ran the length of the road to the west, split into small businesses and residential flats. As they waited for a gap in traffic at the pedestrian crossing, Phillips turned to look at them.