He took out his phone and called the hospital. The station-announcer must have gone off duty because the voice on the line was the other sister’s, never a pushover, but approachable, given the right prompts.
“Yes,” he was saying presently, “he’s fine, soon to be reunited with his owner, we hope. How’s the recovery progressing?”
“Better than anyone expected. He was moved this morning to a private room in a general ward.”
“That’s Bradford Ward?”
“Yes, it’s adjacent to this one, so I can slip in and see him. He can hold a conversation now, which is a huge step forward.”
“Does he remember much?”
“A lot, but there are some blanks. That’s to be expected. He can’t at the moment recall anything about the accident that put him here. Par for the course in a case of severe concussion. And although he remembers his home and his friends and his late wife, he’s at a loss when I talk to him about Hornby.”
“You don’t say.”
“I’m sure he’ll get that memory back. He looks more alert by the minute. Are you planning to visit him?”
“Later, I hope.”
“We’ve lifted all restrictions. Well, I have, as soon as I came on duty and saw the improvement. Two of his railway-enthusiast buddies are with him as we speak and a lady friend is on her way. She asked if he’s allowed chocolate sponge. We should all have friends like that. When do you hope to get here?”
“Later. I’m on a trip out Salisbury way right now.”
“Shall I tell him to expect you?”
“Please don’t,” he said at once. “He won’t know me from Adam.”
“But you rescued Hornby. He ought to be told about that.”
“If he doesn’t remember who Hornby is, there’s no point. I want my visit to be a surprise. You can keep a secret, sister, I know you can.”
After he’d ended the call he was braced for the inevitable question.
Halliwell voiced it. “Who the hell is Hornby?”
“Did you ever see a film called Harvey?”
“Before my time.”
“James Stewart.”
“Black and white, I expect, if the boss rates it,” Ingeborg said.
“It was about this guy who befriends a six-foot-three-inch invisible rabbit,” Diamond said.
“Don’t talk to me about rabbits,” Halliwell said. “I’m sharing a seat with one.”
Ingeborg said with scorn. “Squirrel.”
“Squirrel, then.”
“Are you sure?” Diamond said.
“Sure about what?”
“Sure who’s sitting next to you?”
Ingeborg giggled as they overtook another car.
Halliwell said, “Give me a break.”
Diamond said, “I only mentioned it because Hornby, like Harvey, is real to some people and not others.”
They were zipping along in the small car, way too fast for Diamond’s peace of mind, but he couldn’t really object. Already they were through the Warminster bypass and heading up the Wylye valley.
His stress was partially about what lay ahead. He’d never met Jessie, of course, but having seen where she lived and thought a lot about her, he’d formed an impression of the woman. Maybe the Jessie in his thoughts was no more grounded in reality than Harvey or Hornby, yet he could picture her driving Cyril along this same road on the Scrabble afternoons, trying to persuade the old rogue to cut down on his gambling. Some hope! He could see her getting bored in the little cottage with only a ninety-year-old for company, glad of the chance of an evening off when Pellegrini arranged to visit. His Jessie was a believable personality. The possibility that he and his team would shortly find a body was upsetting.
Had she been a thief? he wondered, not for the first time. Had she actually helped Cyril repay some of his debts by stealing items from the Filiput house? With better opportunities than Cyril himself, she may well have done so.
That episode after the funeral-when coffee was spilt on her purple wool skirt and she left the room with Mrs. Stratford, the actor-cum-cleaner, to change-must have given another opportunity to roam the house, but it wasn’t her doing. Pellegrini himself had caused the spillage. Jake and Simon had used the phrase “tipped coffee over her skirt”-as if he’d done it deliberately.
Deliberately?
Was that possible? What a mean trick if it was true. Presumably he wanted her out of the room so that he could get up to something. But what?
Diamond visualised the incident as it had been described, first by Mrs. Stratford and later by Jake. The lawyer, Miss Hill, had explained Max’s last wishes about the railway memorabilia and invited the guests to help themselves to the old posters and photos. Mayhem had followed. Pellegrini had elbowed Jessie in his eagerness (it was said) to get to the precious items on offer.
Jessie had changed into overalls. She hadn’t returned to the funeral reception. It was left to Mrs. Stratford to come in from the kitchen and collect Jessie’s handbag.
And that, surely, was what it had all been about. By accident or design Pellegrini had made an opportunity to go through that bag.
The truth about the killings, the whole ugly truth, shot through Peter Diamond like a million volts.
26
“Turn it round.”
Ingeborg, taken by surprise, said, “What?”
“The car. Do a U-turn. We’re going back.”
“We’re almost there, guv.”
“I know. There’s nothing for us at this place. Do as I tell you.”
Ingeborg allowed two motorbikes to hurtle past in the other direction and then did as instructed with a screech of tyres. “Where are we heading?”
“The RUH.” He had his phone out again. “Put your foot down.”
This had to be serious. Diamond urging any driver to put their foot down was as likely as him taking to the stage at Covent Garden in the pas de deux from Le Corsaire.
His direct line to the sister didn’t work. She wasn’t answering.
Called to some new emergency?
Please no.
Back to the main hospital number. “This is the police. Can you put me through to the Critical Care unit? I can’t get the sister in charge.”
A wait while they tried.
“Try the ward adjacent to it… I’m trying to remember the name… It’s where you’re put when you’re starting to recover… Bradford, that’s it.”
He kept the phone jammed to his ear and said to the others, “It’s a general ward and he’s in a private room.” He was speaking into the phone again. “Who is this? The sister?… Who’s in charge, then? Let me speak to the senior person, whoever that is.”
His two colleagues waited to be enlightened. Clearly whatever was going on at the hospital had priority over everything. Ingeborg was forced to give her attention to the driving. Her car wasn’t fitted with blues and twos, so other drivers weren’t aware she’d be ignoring speed limits and rules of overtaking. The A36 through the Wylye valley isn’t as twisting as the river it runs beside, but it comes a close second.
Diamond had got through to someone more senior on Bradford Ward. “You have a patient called Pellegrini, right? Until a couple of days ago he was in Critical Care. Can you see him from where you are? Is anyone with him? Okay, now listen to me. This is the police. Close the ward and stop all visitors from entering. Yes, everyone. An extreme emergency. I’m sending officers to seal off the ward. It’s mandatory that you take this action now.”
He prodded the keys again and got Keynsham and made himself known. “I need to seal Bradford Ward at the RUH until I can get there. I’m currently on the A36, a good twenty minutes away. Treat this as a high emergency. Get some armed officers there as soon as possible… Yes, the hospital has been informed. Do it now.”
“Can you do that?” Halliwell asked him after he’d taken the phone from his ear.
“Do what?”
“Close a hospital ward.”
“I’ve just done it, haven’t I?”
“But on what authority, guv? You know what hospitals are like. They have their own protocols.”