listen,’ his voice held a querulous note and he looked accusingly at Lorimer although it was Wilson who’d begun the interview.
‘We’d like to know if you heard anything unusual last night, Mr Fraser,’ Wilson spoke firmly, trying to draw the man’s attention back.
Fraser made a derisory noise. ‘You mean all that screeching and carrying on?’
‘What screeching was that, Mr Fraser?’ Wilson put in. Lorimer pretended to scribble something on a pad in front of him, avoiding eye contact.
If Wilson could capture his attention then he’d be free to observe the patient’s body language. Right now he was sitting, hands clasped between his knees as if, despite the sun’s heat through the glass, he was feeling cold.
‘Mrs Duncan. She raised the roof with her racket. Came right up the stairs to fetch Mrs Baillie. I think anyone would’ve heard it through the partition walls. I certainly could.’
‘You don’t have any sleeping medication, then, Mr Fraser?’
‘Not at the moment,’ he replied, sitting up a bit straighter as he spoke.
Lorimer nodded to himself. A patient on his way to recovery, perhaps?
‘How well did you know Nurse MacLeod?’
Fraser shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. ‘Not that well. She was nice. Nice looking too. She always made sure we were comfortable at bedtime. She’d go to the bother of bringing me up a hot water bottle. That sort of thing.’
‘Did she ever talk about herself?’
‘No. Not really. I’d asked where she was from. The accent made me curious. But she didn’t really tell me much about herself.’ Fraser looked hard at Alistair Wilson. ‘We’re a pretty self-absorbed lot in here, you know. Fragile psyches and all that,’ he sneered. Lorimer watched as his foot began to tap rapidly up and down, an involuntary movement, agitated. He wondered what the man’s blood pressure would be if he had it taken right now. A worm-coloured vein on Fraser’s temple stood out and Lorimer could imagine the beat of a pulse.
‘Where were you last night, Mr Fraser, from midnight onwards?’
The foot tapping stopped abruptly and the man uncrossed his leg, looking towards Lorimer who had suddenly asked the question. For a moment he said nothing, simply stared at the Chief Inspector as if he had temporarily forgotten his presence.
‘In bed. In my bed in my room. All night.’
‘And can anybody verify this?’
Fraser looked from one man to the other, bewildered at this sudden change of tack.
‘I don’t know. Kirsty and Mrs Duncan were the only two who would have been able to say I was in my room. They were the night staff on duty.’ He twisted his face into a frown. ‘But that’s going to be the same for all of us. Except…’
He stopped, rubbing his hands up and down the thighs of his joggers.
‘Except?’ Lorimer prompted.
‘Some patients are on suicide watch. They have nurses posted along the corridor who sit there all night just in case.’
‘And you’d have had to pass them to reach the back of the clinic, I take it?’
‘Yes,’ Fraser replied, something like relief in his face. ‘Yes. Any of them would have seen me if I’d passed that way.’
‘Mr Fraser, you’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry we’ve had to disturb you but it is important that we have some sort of input from all the people who were here last night. Do you remember anything else, perhaps? A strange sound from outside?’ Wilson asked.
‘No. Nothing I can remember.’
‘Well, if there is anything at all, please get in touch with us. We’d be most grateful for anything you might recall later,’ DS Wilson rose to his feet and slid a card across the table.
‘That’s the number to ring. We’ll be issuing this to all of the staff and patients,’ he smiled warmly and Fraser nodded, glancing warily at Lorimer before standing up again.
‘I can go now?’
‘Of course, sir, and thank you once more for your cooperation,’ Wilson’s smile was positively
‘We’d like to know if you heard anything unusual last night, Mr Fraser,’ Wilson spoke firmly, trying to draw the man’s attention back.
Fraser made a derisory noise. ‘You mean all that screeching and carrying on?’
‘What screeching was that, Mr Fraser?’ Wilson put in. Lorimer pretended to scribble something on a pad in front of him, avoiding eye contact.
If Wilson could capture his attention then he’d be free to observe the patient’s body language. Right now he was sitting, hands clasped between his knees as if, despite the sun’s heat through the glass, he was feeling cold.
‘Mrs Duncan. She raised the roof with her racket. Came right up the stairs to fetch Mrs Baillie. I think anyone would’ve heard it through the partition walls. I certainly could.’
‘You don’t have any sleeping medication, then, Mr Fraser?’
‘Not at the moment,’ he replied, sitting up a bit straighter as he spoke.
Lorimer nodded to himself. A patient on his way to recovery, perhaps?
‘How well did you know Nurse MacLeod?’
Fraser shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. ‘Not that well. She was nice. Nice looking too. She always made sure we were comfortable at bedtime. She’d go to the bother of bringing me up a hot water bottle. That sort of thing.’
‘Did she ever talk about herself?’
‘No. Not really. I’d asked where she was from. The accent made me curious. But she didn’t really tell me much about herself.’ Fraser looked hard at Alistair Wilson. ‘We’re a pretty self-absorbed lot in here, you know. Fragile psyches and all that,’ he sneered. Lorimer watched as his foot began to tap rapidly up and down, an involuntary movement, agitated. He wondered what the man’s blood pressure would be if he had it taken right now. A worm-coloured vein on Fraser’s temple stood out and Lorimer could imagine the beat of a pulse.
‘Where were you last night, Mr Fraser, from midnight onwards?’
The foot tapping stopped abruptly and the man uncrossed his leg, looking towards Lorimer who had suddenly asked the question. For a moment he said nothing, simply stared at the Chief Inspector as if he had temporarily forgotten his presence.
‘In bed. In my bed in my room. All night.’
‘And can anybody verify this?’
Fraser looked from one man to the other, bewildered at this sudden change of tack.
‘I don’t know. Kirsty and Mrs Duncan were the only two who would have been able to say I was in my room. They were the night staff on duty.’ He twisted his face into a frown. ‘But that’s going to be the same for all of us. Except…’
He stopped, rubbing his hands up and down the thighs of his joggers.
‘Except?’ Lorimer prompted.
‘Some patients are on suicide watch. They have nurses posted along the corridor who sit there all night just in case.’
‘And you’d have had to pass them to reach the back of the clinic, I take it?’
‘Yes,’ Fraser replied, something like relief in his face. ‘Yes. Any of them would have seen me if I’d passed that way.’
‘Mr Fraser, you’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry we’ve had to disturb you but it is important that we have some sort of input from all the people who were here last night. Do you remember anything else, perhaps? A strange sound from outside?’ Wilson asked.
‘No. Nothing I can remember.’
‘Well, if there is anything at all, please get in touch with us. We’d be most grateful for anything you might recall later,’ DS Wilson rose to his feet and slid a card across the table.
‘That’s the number to ring. We’ll be issuing this to all of the staff and patients,’ he smiled warmly and Fraser nodded, glancing warily at Lorimer before standing up again.
‘I can go now?’
‘Of course, sir, and thank you once more for your cooperation,’ Wilson’s smile was positively
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