Read Online Cherringham--Snowblind by Neil Richards - Free Book Online
Authors: Neil Richards
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help?”
Jack waited for the sister to respond, but her silence gave him the answer anyway.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. Leacock, by the way,” he said.
Again, no answer. He watched the time code whizz onwards, now six p.m. … now seven p.m. …
“I hear the home got into trouble with the authorities last year. Guess you were in charge then?”
“The problem was just in the kitchens,” said Shirley. “I’m only responsible for patient care.”
“Not responsible? Where did I ever hear that line before?”
“My staff do a difficult job for very little money and even less thanks, Mr. Brennan — I don’t care for your moralising.”
“Just calling it as I see it,” said Jack, still not taking his eyes off the screen.
Time to change tack, he thought.
“What’s the security routine at night?”
“After supper, residents get a hot drink and the nurses administer whatever routine medication is prescribed where appropriate. Then lights out—”
“Doors locked?”
“Of course — the building is secured and the night staff monitor until morning.”
“No CCTV inside the building?”
“Regular room visits from the care assistants has always been adequate. If a patient presses the help button we respond.”
“But if a patient got up and left the building you’d be none the wiser.”
“We’d see them on the security monitor, here in the office.”
“But you didn’t, did you?”
“Because — instead of having six staff — that night we only had three,” said Shirley.
Clearly not happy with these questions.
“You, Ania — and the charming Craig — that right?”
Jack looked over his shoulder quickly at Shirley — she nodded to him, but clearly wasn’t going to be drawn into a conversation about her staff.
Jack turned back to the monitors and saw a blur of movement in the shot of the back door and courtyard.
“Speak of the devil,” he said. “Isn’t that Craig there?”
He rewound the tape and played it back slowly. The time-code read nine p.m. He leaned forward and concentrated on the quarter image on the screen. The top-down view made it hard to see faces clearly and the lens was already partly covered in snow.
But Jack was sure that the figure was Craig.
The care assistant had pushed open the exterior door and stood in the shelter of the porch smoking a cigarette.
Then Jack saw him turn and talk to someone in the doorway.
“You got no other angle on this?” he said to the sister. “Who’s he talking to?”
“This is all there is,” said Shirley. “It must be Ania, the nurse.”
“Could be you,” said Jack.
Jack peered at the screen. Craig reached into his pocket and handed the mysterious figure a cigarette, then appeared to light it for them.
“I don’t smoke, Mr. Brennan,” said Shirley.
So maybe it is the young nurse, thought Jack.
But his instincts said the other smoker was a male — something about the way they stood, moved …
Jack watched for ten minutes, but not once did the mystery figure emerge clearly. All he could see was a shape in the doorway. Finally Craig flicked his butt-end away and the two smokers slipped back into the building.
“See the door?” said Jack. “He didn’t shut it properly. Archy and Reg could have easily slipped out that way.”
“People aren’t perfect,” said Shirley. “Anyone can make a mistake.”
“Even a fatal mistake?” said Jack.
He fast forwarded again — and sure enough, just twenty minutes later into the tape, the door swung open and he saw a man in a robe and pyjamas walk out into the billowing snow.
“That’s Archy,” said Shirley, over his shoulder.
Jack heard a slight tremble in her voice. Maybe the sister wasn’t quite as tough as she made out?
It was chilling to see the old man, in just slippers and a flimsy robe standing in the blizzard.
Jack watched carefully, straining to interpret what he was seeing in the grainy, snow-blown images. There had to be clues in here. Had
Jack waited for the sister to respond, but her silence gave him the answer anyway.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Mr. Leacock, by the way,” he said.
Again, no answer. He watched the time code whizz onwards, now six p.m. … now seven p.m. …
“I hear the home got into trouble with the authorities last year. Guess you were in charge then?”
“The problem was just in the kitchens,” said Shirley. “I’m only responsible for patient care.”
“Not responsible? Where did I ever hear that line before?”
“My staff do a difficult job for very little money and even less thanks, Mr. Brennan — I don’t care for your moralising.”
“Just calling it as I see it,” said Jack, still not taking his eyes off the screen.
Time to change tack, he thought.
“What’s the security routine at night?”
“After supper, residents get a hot drink and the nurses administer whatever routine medication is prescribed where appropriate. Then lights out—”
“Doors locked?”
“Of course — the building is secured and the night staff monitor until morning.”
“No CCTV inside the building?”
“Regular room visits from the care assistants has always been adequate. If a patient presses the help button we respond.”
“But if a patient got up and left the building you’d be none the wiser.”
“We’d see them on the security monitor, here in the office.”
“But you didn’t, did you?”
“Because — instead of having six staff — that night we only had three,” said Shirley.
Clearly not happy with these questions.
“You, Ania — and the charming Craig — that right?”
Jack looked over his shoulder quickly at Shirley — she nodded to him, but clearly wasn’t going to be drawn into a conversation about her staff.
Jack turned back to the monitors and saw a blur of movement in the shot of the back door and courtyard.
“Speak of the devil,” he said. “Isn’t that Craig there?”
He rewound the tape and played it back slowly. The time-code read nine p.m. He leaned forward and concentrated on the quarter image on the screen. The top-down view made it hard to see faces clearly and the lens was already partly covered in snow.
But Jack was sure that the figure was Craig.
The care assistant had pushed open the exterior door and stood in the shelter of the porch smoking a cigarette.
Then Jack saw him turn and talk to someone in the doorway.
“You got no other angle on this?” he said to the sister. “Who’s he talking to?”
“This is all there is,” said Shirley. “It must be Ania, the nurse.”
“Could be you,” said Jack.
Jack peered at the screen. Craig reached into his pocket and handed the mysterious figure a cigarette, then appeared to light it for them.
“I don’t smoke, Mr. Brennan,” said Shirley.
So maybe it is the young nurse, thought Jack.
But his instincts said the other smoker was a male — something about the way they stood, moved …
Jack watched for ten minutes, but not once did the mystery figure emerge clearly. All he could see was a shape in the doorway. Finally Craig flicked his butt-end away and the two smokers slipped back into the building.
“See the door?” said Jack. “He didn’t shut it properly. Archy and Reg could have easily slipped out that way.”
“People aren’t perfect,” said Shirley. “Anyone can make a mistake.”
“Even a fatal mistake?” said Jack.
He fast forwarded again — and sure enough, just twenty minutes later into the tape, the door swung open and he saw a man in a robe and pyjamas walk out into the billowing snow.
“That’s Archy,” said Shirley, over his shoulder.
Jack heard a slight tremble in her voice. Maybe the sister wasn’t quite as tough as she made out?
It was chilling to see the old man, in just slippers and a flimsy robe standing in the blizzard.
Jack watched carefully, straining to interpret what he was seeing in the grainy, snow-blown images. There had to be clues in here. Had
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