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Steven gave him an enquiring look and Gault said, ‘Call it the cynicism of my years. Forty years of dishing out pills and writing prescriptions can take the shine off youthful zeal.’

Steven nodded. At least the man was honest. ‘I understand there was some disagreement over the treatment of a child patient in the practice — a girl with a skin complaint?’

‘Not really a disagreement,’ said Gault dismissively. ‘The child’s mother wanted us to pull out all the stops for a condition that I regarded as trivial and harmless. We do not have unlimited resources in the NHS — something I failed singularly to get across to her. In the end she asked for a change of doctor and Scott took her and her daughter on to his list.’

‘I understand this child is now seriously ill?’ said Steven.

Gault nodded. ‘Although not as a result of the original complaint,’ he stressed. ‘An accident with boiling water, I understand.’

‘Her mother doesn’t seem to think it was an accident.’

Gault gave him a look that said, she wouldn’t. ‘I wouldn’t know anything about that,’ he said.

‘If the child were to confirm that she did do it deliberately and it was connected with the way she felt about her skin problem, would it alter your view of Dr Haldane’s death at all?’

‘What are you getting at?’ asked Gault suspiciously.

‘Dr Haldane’s wife is convinced that her husband was murdered and his death was linked in some way to this child’s problems. I suppose I on the other hand was considering that he may have taken his own life over feelings of guilt for what had happened to the girl and for not having referred her for psychiatric assessment. Would you consider that a possibility?’

‘No way,’ said Gault. ‘Neither of us saw the need for psychiatric involvement at any stage. The girl had a harmless condition but was being given a hard time over it at school. End of story as far as I’m concerned. She was scalded in an accident, something that played no part in Scott’s death.’

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ said Steven, getting up to go. ‘You’ve been very helpful. Oh, by the way… who or what are green sticker patients?’

‘No great mystery,’ said Gault. ‘A number of children from schools all over the country were exposed to tuberculosis at a school camp they were attending in the Lake District — TB is a growing hazard these days with children coming to live in this country from all over the place. Appropriate steps were taken and the children are being monitored as a precaution. They have green stickers on their medical records — hence the name. Any time they appear in the surgery with a problem, a report has to be made and sent off with their records for updating, filing, cross-referencing or whatever the trillions of NHS pen-pushers do these days with the information they keep demanding.’

‘I see,’ smiled Steven. ‘I understand Trish Lyons is a green sticker patient?’

‘She is,’ agreed Gault.

‘Dr Haldane’s wife claims that this caused problems in some way for her husband.’

‘It might well have done if her records weren’t available when he was looking for them — in fact, come to think of it, that might well have happened. The girls in the office would have sent them off the first time she appeared here in the surgery with her skin complaint.’

‘So Dr Haldane being annoyed about this would be perfectly understandable in your view?’

‘Absolutely, having your patient’s medical records lying in some bureaucrat’s office when you need access to them had me spitting tacks too.’

Steven thanked Gault again and left. He walked back across the green sward of the links and into the Bruntsfield Hotel where he ordered a gin and tonic and sat down by a window in the lounge to consider what he’d learned. Sci-Med had no interest in whether Scott Haldane had committed suicide or not although his own view was that he possibly had. In his experience, suicide victims often had a deeper, darker side to them than they ever showed to the world and the act often came as a complete surprise to those around them, even to those who knew and loved them most — a bit like serial killers who were nearly always described by neighbours as being quiet and polite, keeping themselves very much to themselves.

Steven had to decide if there was a possibility that Scott Haldane had been murdered and perhaps more importantly from Sci-Med’s point of view, for the reason that his wife was suggesting — that it had had something to do with one of his patients. He would have to talk to Haldane’s wife to get a feel for what value could be put on her allegations. Was she just a grieving widow who couldn’t live with the knowledge that her husband had taken his own life or did she have some good reason for saying the things she was saying?

Using the information contained in the Sci-Med file, Steven rang Linda Haldane as soon as he got back to Fraoch House. The conversation was brief.

‘Look, I’m in the middle of bathing the children. Can you call back later?’

Steven called back in an hour and explained who he was. ‘I was wondering if we could meet. I’d like to speak to you about your husband and what happened to him.’

‘Is there any point?’ asked Linda. ‘Everyone’s made up their minds. He took his own life.’

‘I haven’t.’

After a sigh and a pause Linda Haldane said, ‘All right, come round tomorrow morning when the children will be at school and in the nursery… about ten thirty.’

Steven took a note of the address and went out to eat. He chose an Italian restaurant: he felt like having noise and bustle around him. This city held a lot of ghosts for him.

Steven left Fraoch House immediately after breakfast and chose once again to walk across the city on a bright, sunny morning which showed Princes Street and the castle, high on its rock, to best advantage. Linda Haldane lived in what she described as a ‘lodge house’ in the Grange district of the city — a bit further south than Bruntsfield and one of the most desirable areas of the city with its avenues of mansion houses nestling behind high stone walls and towering trees. He found the Haldane home without difficulty and announced himself at the entry-phone at the side of the iron gates, which responded to electronic command and gave a slight shudder as an electric relay released the lock.

Linda Haldane appeared at the side door to the cottage, just inside the gates, and moved a child’s tricycle to one side before inviting Steven inside. ‘We can talk in the kitchen,’ she said.

Steven took a seat at the pine kitchen table and noted the children’s breakfast dishes on the draining board. Thomas the Tank Engine was the recurring theme. ‘Two boys?’ he asked.

Linda followed his gaze to the plastic dishes and smiled. ‘Well done… but you are some kind of detective. I’m sorry, who are the Sci-Med Inspectorate exactly?’

Steven offered a little more detail.

Linda nodded and said, ‘Makes sense. So Scott’s death falls within your remit?’

Steven gave a non-committal shrug. ‘Possibly.’

‘How can I help?’

‘We located a newspaper report in which you said that you believed your husband was murdered.’

‘I do,’ said Linda with more than a trace of defiance. ‘There’s no way that Scott committed suicide.’

‘You also told the police that you thought his death was in some way connected with a patient he was treating, a child named Trish Lyons.’

‘And you’ve come here to tell me to shut up and stop rocking the boat?’

‘No, I’ve come here to establish the truth.’

Linda looked at Steven as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. ‘And how will you do that?’ she asked.

‘What I’m doing right now, talking to people, asking questions.’

‘Ask away.’

‘I need to know why you think your husband was murdered and why you think it had something to do with a thirteen-year-old girl patient.’

‘If you’d known Scott, you wouldn’t even consider for a moment that he took his own life,’ said Linda with a rueful smile. ‘It’s ridiculous. He would have been the last person on earth to ever contemplate suicide. He was the most positive person I’ve ever known.’