Enigma

  * * *

  12:05 hours

  Stuart was on the telephone when Love walked in.

  He waved at Love and motioned him to pick up his extension. Love grabbed his receiver, pressed a button and listened. He looked at Stuart and smiled before replacing it almost immediately.

  Shannon, Stuart’s six-year-old daughter was at full throttle, ‘I just called to say I love you.’

  ‘That was wonderful, darling, now put mummy back on.’

  He held on for a moment before speaking again. ‘Hello, Emma,’ he said then listened. ‘Me too.’ He looked over at Love. ‘Absolutely, just the two of us, got to go. Bye, darling.’

  ‘Dare I ask?’

  ‘It was Emma’s idea. Shannon’s staying with Grandma for a few nights and will be gone by the time I get home.’

  ‘At your mother’s place in Oxford?’

  ‘No. Emma’s mum. She lives in London. Moved here recently from Norwich.’

  Love smiled. ‘Let’s talk hospitals.’

  ‘St Katherine’s?’

  ‘There has to be a connection, Stuart, and so far this is all we’ve got.’

  ‘But St Katherine’s...’

  ‘Think about it,’ Love said, and flicked open the file on Carol Butterfield. ‘She was a part-time volunteer at St Kates because her son had been treated there and it was her way of saying thanks.’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  ‘It’s more than that. I’ve just met with Sister Brookes.’

  ‘So where does that leave us? You reckon we’re looking for a doctor?’

  ‘I don’t know the answer to that, not yet, but it’s more than we had to go on a few hours ago,’ he said. He removed his wallet and mobile from his inside pocket and laid them both on the desk. ‘According to Sister Brookes, Carol Butterfield was a regular volunteer.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning she went to St Katherine’s about twice or even three times a week.’ Love shrugged off his jacket placed it on the back of his chair and sat down.

  ‘Sounds dedicated,’ Stuart said. He narrowed his eyes as though deep in thought. ‘And a bit over the top if you ask me.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. No one’s that dedicated simply because their kid has their tonsils removed.’

  ‘Did she come into contact with the same people?’

  ‘Patients or staff?’

  ‘Good question,’ Stuart said.

  Love flipped open his wallet and pulled out a card. He tapped it against his mobile as he sat there thinking. The assailant could be anyone from a surgeon down to an orderly. Any one of them could have access to a scalpel if they were determined enough. It could even be a patient! Hell, if this case wasn’t already driving him nuts. Finally, he threw the card down on his desk studied the number for a moment picked up his mobile and punched the number on the keypad.

  ‘Doctor Cooper.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Doctor, DCA Dick Love here. I’m calling about Timmy.’

  He heard her breathing and for a moment she said nothing. ‘Yes, Detective Love, I wondered how long it would be before you got in touch.’

  ‘And here I am.’

  ‘And here you are.’

  ‘I’ll keep it brief, Doctor. Tell me, how’s Timmy.’

  ‘He’s holding his own.’

  ‘Nothing more to report?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Look, Doctor Cooper, I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to have done...’

  ‘It’s nothing that you’ve done, Detective Love, it what’s you haven’t done.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Protocol. I don’t know how you do things in America but over here in the UK we’re a little more respectful of following the correct channels.’

  ‘Lady, what on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about my patients, Detective. If you want to talk about my past, present or future patients, please have the decency to come to me directly and not to my supervisor.’

  So that was it. Minor point but not so as far as the doctor was concerned.

  ‘I’m sorry, Doctor Cooper, but if you recall you ordered me off the premises. No one tells me where or when to go, that’s my job. And secondly, I hadn’t finished what I’d gone there to do and if you weren’t willing to help then I had to find someone who was.’

  ‘Point taken,’ she replied.

  ‘I believe it has been. Good day to you, Doctor Cooper.’

  Stuart was looking at Love. ‘What on earth was that all about?’

  Love shook his head. ‘It would appear I stepped on the lovely doctor’s shoes when I asked her supervisor about Stephen Butterfield.’

  ‘Touchy about her patients.’

  ‘Yeah, so it would appear. That woman is determined to be a thorn in my side,’ he said, and smiled.