As she watched him there were other questions that digested themselves in her brain until Phyllis had produced a satisfactory answer; questions that were explained by the repairman’s unusual activities. She didn’t know the first thing about televisions but she didn’t think the set would function in its normal way with all its innards removed and replaced by what seemed to be a smallish camera.
They were watching her. perhaps she should be relieved that those secret eyes were looking after her but all she could feel was a sense of intrusion into a world that was already far too confined.
Lorimer swung round in his chair to face the window, the solicitor’s words still singing in his brain. There had been a lengthy delay in responding to his query about the woman’s will. He glanced down at the figure on his notepad as if to check that it was correct. Phyllis Logan’s estate was estimated to be in the region of three and a half million pounds. What would his team make of this? One thing was certain, they’d have to be especially careful of the sick woman now.
Lorimer looked back at the solicitor’s report. The main beneficiary of the woman’s estate was the clinic itself, wrapped up in a trust fund. There were several provisions made to help patients who could not otherwise afford the fees, that money coming from interest in share capital. Lorimer frowned. With the collapse of so much on the stock market in recent years, just what were these shares worth? But it was the other beneficiary that caught his attention. To the director of the Grange, Mrs Maureen Baillie, Phyllis Logan had left? 250,000. A sweet quarter of a million!
Recalling the woman’s spartan living quarters and the suspicion that all was not well with the clinic’s finances, Lorimer felt a niggle of worry. People had been murdered before for a lot less than that. But why would Kirsty and Brenda have been killed over a financial scam? it didn’t make sense, unless they knew something that made their continued existence a danger to somebody. You’ve got a dirty mind, Lorimer, he told himself. Still, he’d keep digging this particular seam until he hit gold.
Why would Kirsty have been killed that night? Phyllis had been so vulnerable to the killer’s hands. it would have been so easy just to have dispatched her there and then. If that was the underlying motive. He gnawed his fingernail until he felt it split under his teeth. There was something there, but what?
A bird flying past his window made him glance up and catch sight of the clock on his wall. Time to go. They’d all be waiting for him.
They were all in the muster room. Lorimer walked in to face the semicircle of officers who sat on steel chairs. He noticed that Jo Grant had chosen to perch on the wide windowsill that overlooked the car park.
‘Right. We’ve got the go-ahead. I want to introduce you to two of our undercover officers from D. Division, Patricia Crossan and Marion Warbrick.’ He turned towards two young women who were sitting at the edge of the circle. One, a blonde girl hugging a stone-coloured raincoat around herself, was slouched into her chair. She gave a perfunctory nod. The other girl raked back her seat and stood up. Her black leather jacket and short cropped hair showed drops of water from the recent rain shower.
‘Hi there,’ she smiled at the other officers. ‘I’m Pat and this is Marion.’ There were murmurs of acknowledgement from the rest of the room. As she sat down again, all eyes turned towards Lorimer.
‘Next time you see Pat she’ll be on duty at the Grange. Marion has come in specially to meet you before she hits the sack.’ The blonde girl managed a watery grin as Lorimer continued. ‘Erica, the third of our undercover officers, is keeping an eye on Phyllis Logan right now and Pat will be doing the next shift later on. I don’t need to tell you how important it is that you treat all of these officers as if they were perfect strangers. As far as you are concerned they are agency nurses who are helping out at the clinic, OK? The one thing we don’t want to do is to arouse anyone’s suspicions. And I’m talking about staff, patients, visitors, anybody who comes through their doors on a regular basis.’
Lorimer let his gaze travel over every officer’s face as he went on. ‘If their cover’s blown the whole operation could be scuppered. As far as the people in the clinic are concerned they’re simply three new pairs of hands. Luckily, each of them has bona fide nursing experience. Guess the glamour of police work lured you away from your last jobs, eh, girls?’
There were snorts of derisive laughter from several directions, including, he noticed, Jo Grant tucked into her windowsill.
‘There’s been no suspicion at all at the clinic, has there?’ Lorimer addressed Pat.
‘They’ve accepted us without question, sir. Frankly, they’re all relieved to have some agency nurses,’ she replied.
‘Yes. There’s been a bit of an exodus amongst the staff since Kirsty and Brenda’s deaths,’ Lorimer agreed.
‘So, ladies and gentlemen, we now have a round-the-clock presence at the Grange.’ He measured each word carefully as he continued, letting his blue gaze fall on each officer in the room as he spoke. ‘Now, here’s the risky bit. We’ve let it be known to the nursing staff that Phyllis Logan has information about the night of Kirsty’s murder.’ He paused to let his words sink in.
‘We’ve not said in so many words that she actually saw the killer but the implication is there all the same. Pat, Marion and Erica have been asking both staff and patients all about the murders like the rookies they’re supposed to be,’ he told them. ‘One way or another we’ve made sure that word has spread. Not too difficult in a small community like that. The patients will no doubt pass on the gossip to their nearest and dearest. I just hope to God the Press don’t get wind of it.’
He tapped his thigh as if considering what to say. Sometimes stating the obvious helped to concentrate the mind.
‘The murders of those two nurses took place exactly one week apart. OK, the loci were entirely different but each of them took place on a Monday night. Now that may have absolutely no significance but it’s never something that can be ruled out of an equation, as you all well know. So this coming Monday is our choice. We’ve got the weekend to let the rumour factory do its worst, then we move in.’
Lorimer heard their sounds of approval with a sense of satisfaction. There had been some voices of dissent when Solly had dropped his bombshell but now it seemed that they had come round to respect his opinion.
‘We set up surveillance over the weekend and then wait to see if Phyllis Logan has any unexpected visitors.’
‘What if nothing happens, sir?’ Niall Cameron was red in the face but he seemed determined to risk the question nonetheless.
‘I expect Superintendent Mitchison will send us to the salt mines for wasting public money, Cameron,’ Lorimer growled at him.
‘We’ve laid our bait in the trap. With her full cooperation, remember. Now we have to watch and wait. You’re all experienced enough to know that’s the hardest bit in any operation. You’ll be on duty from just after nine o’clock right through till I say when.’
He turned to the board behind him. A large-scale plan of the Grange had been fixed to the board with pieces of masking tape at each corner. Lorimer pointed to each area as he spoke.
‘We’ll have officers in unmarked cars all along the road to the front. There’s waste ground at the rear. Alistair, you and Davie will take up positions between the basement door and the shrubbery. The gardeners have been given a holiday that week,’ he grinned. ‘You’ll cover that exit. The patients will all be receiving visits from Health Board ‘officials’ in the shape of Eddie and Vince,’ he indicated two of his detective constables, ‘since neither of you have been out at the clinic. The story is that you’re there for a routine check. We’ve done the homework on it and it’s a normal procedure. There should be nothing to create suspicion. The camera’s in place and it’ll be monitored from our British Telecom van out in the street. That’s where I’ll be with Dr Brightman and DC Cameron. We’ll be out of sight but in constant contact with all units. Erica and Pat will alert us to anyone coming into or going out of Phyllis’s room. She’s a target but remember she’s also our main witness. Right?’