The Infirmary (DCI Ryan Mysteries prequel)(48)

“Wh—Me?” Pinter squealed. There was no other word for it. “I-I was at home. I don’t have to answer that!”

“Think yourself lucky I’m asking you informally,” Ryan snapped. “While we’re at it, you can tell me why you didn’t mention you knew Sharon Cooper personally. You went out on dinner dates, more than once, through the dating website used by both victims.”

Something flickered in Pinter’s eyes.

There, Ryan thought. There it was.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Ryan barked. “You know better than that, Jeff. Now, you put me in the position of having to ask you again: where were you on Saturday night?”

Pinter swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed precariously.

“I told you, I was at home. I, ah, I can give you the name of the woman I was with, if you need it.”

“I need it.”

Pinter nodded miserably, thinking that would be the end of that romance.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have mentioned it. I was—well, I was embarrassed,” he said.

Ryan waited, not giving any quarter.

“Both of us knew it was a bad idea, really. Dating people at work? It rarely works out, does it?”

Pinter forced a laugh, which was not returned.

“Look, I made a mistake. I should have been upfront about my…my personal association with Sharon. It won’t happen again.”

Ryan stepped forward until they were almost toe to toe.

“You’re damn right it won’t happen again. I want the name and address of the woman you say you were with on Saturday night and, until I’ve checked it out, special measures apply.” He nodded towards Nicola Cassidy, who had been taken into one of the private examination rooms. “You don’t work on her alone. Make an excuse if you like, tell your staff it’s a new protocol, but you don’t work on her alone. I can’t risk it, Jeff. Not for you and not for them.”

Pinter gave a jerky nod.

“I—yes, alright. Ryan, I mean it. I sincerely regret not mentioning it and I understand it’s made things difficult.”

Ryan looked straight through him.

“Difficult? You don’t understand, Jeff. It isn’t just a case of making my job harder. Even if your story checks out, I’ll always question the information you give me in future. I’ll always wonder if you’re holding something back.”

To their mutual embarrassment, Pinter looked as though he would break down.

“What can I do?”

“Never, ever, lie to me again.”

Pinter nodded.

“You have my word.”

*

Ryan left the mortuary behind him and moved quickly through the corridors, following the signs for the gents toilets. He needed to splash some cold water on his face and clear his head, re-group and figure out where to begin managing three active murder investigations rolled into one. There was little hope of keeping the latest news out of the press, but he needed to call DCS Gregson to update him anyway; perhaps the man’s infamous charm would help to buy them some time.

Ryan looked up and realised he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere in the rabbit warren.

“Lost?”

He turned from his inspection of the signs on the wall to face the doctor he’d met earlier.

“Doctor Edwards?”

“Yep.”

He held out a hand, which Ryan shook briefly.

“I was looking for the gents.”

“Use the one through here,” Edwards suggested, leading him through to the staff room. The central area was taken up with cheap round tables and chairs. An assortment of nurses and doctors were sitting flicking through dog-eared magazines and watching the television fixed to the wall in the corner. To Ryan’s mind, it could have easily been the staff area at CID Headquarters, minus the smell of shepherd’s pie.

Beyond it, there was a small locker room lined with tall metal doors on either side.

“Straight through here and on the left,” Edwards told him.

But Ryan lingered.

“Joan mentioned you’d only recently joined the team,” he said, watching Edwards select a locker and retrieve the key which hung from an elasticated key band at his hip.

“I transferred back in January, so it’s not all that recent. I was over at North Tyneside General before.” He paused. “Mind if I get changed? I’ve been in these scrubs for hours.”

“Sure,” Ryan murmured. And then, “Have we met before?”

Edwards looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t think so. Have we?”

“I thought we had. Perhaps I’m mistaken.”

Suddenly, it came to him. Keir Edwards’ face was the one John Dobbs had used for his online dating profile. They’d assumed it was a stock image, but Dobbs had lifted one from much closer to home.

“Did you have much to do with John Dobbs?”

Edwards shrugged into a fresh shirt.

“The guy who killed himself?”

“Yes, he was a healthcare assistant here.”

“Oh, right, John. Yeah, we were all quite surprised when we heard what happened,” Edwards said, and gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “Sorry. Long day.”

“So, you knew him from on the wards?”