In that moment she felt a sudden shock of understanding. She tried to twist away, to raise her hand to make them stop the relentless progress of the chair. But only a low moan issued from her mouth, unheard against the roll of wheels.
And where was Maggie? Why wasn’t she… here. To make them. Stop. Explain what was… going wrong?
‘Detective Superintendent Lorimer.’
‘It’s Mum.’ Maggie sounded out of breath as if she had been running. ‘She’s in hospital. They say it’s a stroke…’
Lorimer heard the catch in her voice just as he caught the glance of the woman across the desk, one eyebrow arched in the faintest hint of curiosity.
‘D’you want me there?’ He hadn’t intended to sound so terse, but with DI Martin listening intently to his side of the conversation, Lorimer wanted nothing more than to be alone with his wife, consoling her wherever she was, unhampered by this review case. The pause from the other end told him more than any words could have: Maggie realised he was busy and was about to tell him not to bother.
‘I can be with you in less than an hour,’ he continued, giving his watch a quick glance. The layout of this unfamiliar office didn’t seem to include a wall clock.
‘It’s okay. I can call you later once I know what they’re going to do.’
‘How bad is she?’ Lorimer asked, turning his head aside from Rhoda Martin’s direct stare.
‘We won’t know until they have all the test results but she’s paralysed down one side and can’t talk too well. She knows me, though. Don’t worry about that!’
He smiled, hearing the relief in her voice laced with a hint of humour. It was bad but not too bad, she seemed to be saying.
‘Keep in touch. Let me know what’s happening and I’ll see if I can catch up with you there. All right?’
‘Thanks. Love you,’ Maggie said.
‘Yeah. Hang in there. Okay?’ Lorimer told her.
As he put down the handset, DI Martin leaned across the desk, eyes hungrily eating the Detective Super’s expression.
‘Bad news?’ Her eagerness was almost palpable and in that instant Lorimer knew he was going to have an uphill struggle even to be civil to this woman.
‘Nothing to do with the case. Now if you can let me know where all the logs relating to the inquiry have been stored for the period in question we can begin to look at what actually happened from the team’s perspective,’ he replied smoothly, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face.
As they discussed the initial stages of the inquiry, Lorimer’s mind was racing. What on earth had happened to his mother-in-law? And how was Maggie coping on her own at the hospital? But, lodged between these two thoughts was another more insidious notion: how had this DI reacted to her old boss’s predicament? Had she fed off Colin Ray’s increasing absences, using them to bolster up her own involvement and hoping for subsequent kudos? There had been something malicious in her expression, as if she suddenly welcomed the prospect of this new SIO having domestic problems of his own. And that would suit them just fine, wouldn’t it? Lorimer swallowed down the guilt he felt at leaving Maggie to sort this one out. He’d make it up to her. Later.
Once Rhoda Martin was gone, Lorimer reached for his mobile phone then, just as suddenly, drew back his hand. The irony of his situation wasn’t lost on him. Colin Ray’s dying wife had taken priority in his life over the high-profile wilful fire-raising case, resulting in Lorimer’s present appointment. For something similar to repeat itself was simply not on. Frowning, he wondered for a moment what his mother-in-law would be experiencing over in the Southern General hospital. She was a feisty old bird, though, and he held her in an affection that he knew was mutual. If anyone could recover from the damage of a stroke, it would be Maggie’s mum.
But suddenly DI Martin’s sharp features replaced thoughts of the older woman in his mind. Office politics had been at work, to the previous SIO’s detriment, Lorimer guessed, though he’d be lucky to prove that. And, besides, that was not within his present remit. What was his main concern was how the case of wilful fire-raising resulting in two horrific deaths had been handled here in K Division. That, and how he was to proceed with the review.
It would mean loads of sifting through all the paperwork for a start and setting up a small team from the existing officers here to read over and reassess the key documents — like witness statements — to ensure that every piece of evidence divulged to the police initially had been acted upon fully, without question. The old cliche of ‘leaving no stone unturned’ had never been more appropriate. It would be hard work and he hoped that the team he eventually chose would be less acerbic than DI Martin, but for some reason he felt he needed to keep her close, if only as a means of watching his own back.
He missed the familiar faces of his own team back in Glasgow. Here he was very much on his own and the sooner he elicited help from Ray’s own CID department, the better. It was not only dredging through the paperwork that was required, though that tedious stuff had to be done; he had to decide what had gone wrong at each and every stage of the investigation and to do that effectively, he wanted to have the fullest cooperation from the folk down here in Greenock.
A knock on the door made him turn from his thoughts and as the door opened he was heartened to see a solid-looking woman in her early thirties smiling at him, a mug of something hot in one hand.
He knew that face, didn’t he? It was…?
‘Kate Doherty.’ She smiled at him. ‘I was one of your trainees. Don’t know if you remember me.’
‘Kate!’ Lorimer exclaimed, his brain whirling as he struggled to place her. ‘You went to Kilmarnock as a DC, didn’t you?’
‘Well done,’ she said, coming closer and proferring the mug. ‘Tea. No sugar. Okay for you?’
‘Aye, fine,’ Lorimer replied. ‘In fact,’ he added, thinking swiftly, ‘even better if you were to join me.’
‘Ah, fraternising with the new SIO. Bit risky, don’t you think?’ Kate’s voice was as full of good humour as Lorimer remembered.
‘I didn’t know you were one of Colin’s team,’ he began, sipping the strong brew gratefully.
‘Well, you wouldn’t recognise the name. It’s Clark, not Doherty now.’ She grinned, wiggling her wedding ring finger. ‘And I wasn’t at your meeting yesterday. Midwife’s appointment.’ She grimaced then, pointing to the burgeoning swell beneath her shirt. ‘This wee rascal’s fairly making his presence felt. They think it might be a breech birth.’
‘Ah.’ Lorimer nodded. Yes, he’d seen all their names on the ACPOS — the management policy file — but apart from DI Martin, and now Kate, he hadn’t yet put names to all of their faces.
‘Maybe I should just wait and meet you officially this afternoon? ’ Kate suggested, the faintest hint of warning in her voice.
Lorimer looked up at her. Would she be singled out as the new chap’s favourite, a friend from the past, and thus given a hard time by anyone who resented Lorimer’s presence here in K Division? There was always that possibility. And he couldn’t afford to alienate the one person who might be able to fill him in on the background to this case without a sense of prejudice.
‘Take your point, Kate. But I’d love to have a chance to catch up with you properly some other time.’ Lorimer gave her what he hoped was his best smile, blue eyes widening. ‘Anyway, thanks for the tea. Just what I needed right now.’
‘No bother, boss,’ she said, striding out of the room with a grin. ‘See you later.’
Lorimer drank his tea, heaving a sigh of relief. For a moment he had experienced a feeling quite unfamiliar to him: loneliness. But seeing Kate Doherty’s — no, Kate Clark’s — friendly face had turned his mood around. Perhaps the afternoon’s meeting that he had been dreading would not be so bad after all.
CHAPTER 10
The Southern General hospital lay sandwiched between the approach road to the Clyde tunnel and a Govan housing scheme, its sombre facade dominated by the clock tower that seemed to remind one of how fragile life really was and that one day everyone’s time would be up. Its reputation as one of the city’s best teaching hospitals was undeniable, however, and it had the country’s finest spinal injuries unit, one that Lorimer had visited during a previous case. These were thoughts uppermost in his mind as he raced up the back stairs towards the ward where Mrs Finlay had been taken. She would be in expert hands, he told himself. They’d be doing everything that they could.