Steven’s look suggested that this wasn’t enough.
‘We were happy,’ insisted Linda. ‘We had everything going for us. Scott had a job he loved, we have two beautiful children, we live in a lovely city. We loved each other dearly… what more do you need?’
When she saw that Steven was still unconvinced, she added, ‘Apart from anything else, Scott was a committed Christian; he spent three years doing voluntary work in Africa before becoming a GP. You really have to be an optimist to do something like that. Talk about lighting a candle being better than cursing the darkness… Suicide was against everything he stood for.’
‘Lives can change in an instant,’ said Steven, although not unkindly. ‘There’s been a suggestion that he might have made a mistake over a young patient which led to her injuring herself. You don’t think this could have led to feelings of guilt?’
Linda shook her head. ‘No way,’ she said. ‘I know all about what happened to Trish Lyons. Scott would have been the first to admit to making any kind of mistake if he had made one but he didn’t. He didn’t believe for a moment that the girl’s injuries had been self-inflicted. He was sure it had been an accident and that her mother had come up with the self-harming claim to get her own back on the medical profession who she felt had been less than understanding about her daughter’s problems. I’m sure the girl herself will confirm this when she recovers.’
‘If she recovers,’ said Steven. ‘She’s very ill.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Steven asked the obvious question. ‘So, if there was no conceivable reason for your husband to commit suicide, Mrs Haldane… what possible reason was there for anyone to murder him?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Linda through gritted teeth. ‘I only know that Scott was found with his wrists cut and he didn’t do it — someone else did.’
For a moment Steven saw despair appear in Linda Haldane’s eyes along with the grief that was already in residence. ‘Look…’ she began, ‘I know how ridiculous this must sound to you and people can be forgiven for thinking I’m just a silly woman who can’t cope with her husband’s suicide… but I am absolutely certain Scott didn’t take his own life.’
Steven could see that this was beyond question. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid I need more than your certainty,’ he said. ‘I need a motive for his murder. I need to know why you told the police you thought his death was connected in some way to Trish Lyons.’ He knew it sounded cold but it was also true.
‘Although Scott was convinced that Patricia Lyons’ scalding had been an accident, he had some theory about her condition that he couldn’t pursue because of obstacles he claimed were being put in his way. He got very angry and upset about it. Scott hardly ever used bad language but I heard him on one occasion calling it “a bloody conspiracy”.’
Steven said, ‘I understand the girl was one of a group of children being monitored centrally by Public Health people so he might have had difficulty in accessing her medical records?’
‘It wasn’t just that,’ said Linda, ‘although he was annoyed about that too. He kept making phone-calls to people who either wouldn’t speak to him or wouldn’t give him the information he was looking for.’
‘What sort of information?’
‘Scott wouldn’t tell me. He said it was something he would have to be absolutely sure about before he could say anything to anyone.’
‘But if it was upsetting him so much, you must have asked him about it on more than one occasion?’
‘Of course, but he refused point blank to tell me.’
‘Not even you, his wife?’
‘Not even me,’ agreed Linda with a sad smile, taking the point Steven was making.
‘Have you no idea at all who he was trying to phone?’
‘I assumed it was the people who were holding the girl’s medical records — but that’s an assumption on my part.’
‘Actually, it’s quite hard to see why he would need the girl’s medical records,’ said Steven. ‘I mean, you’d think her medical history wouldn’t have had much bearing on the case of a scalding accident.’
Linda shrugged but said, ‘You might not think so but I heard him tell whoever it was he was talking to that he needed more information and telling them to stop being so obstructive.’
‘And you’re absolutely sure your husband never let anything slip about what he was thinking?’
‘I think I would have remembered if he had,’ said Linda. ‘Although there was one occasion when he came off the phone and sat down looking shocked. When I asked him what was wrong he said, “They actually told me to back off if I knew what was good for me.”’
‘But you don’t know who “they” were?’
‘Sorry.’
SIX
Steven headed back into town. He decided he would have to access Trish Lyons’ medical records for himself in order to see if he could find out what Scott Haldane had been so upset about. The surgery was on the way so he would stop off and ask if the records were there although he suspected they might not be, in view of what had subsequently happened to Trish Lyons.
‘I’m sorry,’ said James Gault after checking with the practice manager. ‘They were returned to us but had to be sent off again to the sick children’s hospital to have the scalding incident entered… I should think by now the hospital will probably have sent the notes on to the central monitor. Some day they’ll come back to us…’
‘I get the picture,’ said Steven. ‘Perhaps you could let me have the address of the monitoring body?’
‘Of course; I’ll have to ask Cathy.’
To Steven’s surprise, Gault returned not only with the information he’d asked for but with a woman following along in his wake. She was introduced as Cathy Renton, the practice manager. ‘It’s not quite as simple as I thought,’ confessed Gault.
‘Health matters are devolved in Scotland,’ said Cathy. ‘But monitoring in this instance is part of a UK initiative. The bottom line is that we have to channel the records through the Scottish Executive who then forward them to the UK body and vice versa when they’re returned.’
‘Why?’ said Steven.
‘I suppose the Executive needs to know what’s going on,’ said Cathy with a half apologetic smile. She handed Steven the address and phone number of the Scottish Executive body dealing with the forwarding of medical records.
‘Woodburn House,’ Steven read out.
‘It’s not far from here,’ said Cathy. ‘It’s in Canaan Lane, just off Morningside Road.’
It took twelve minutes from the time Steven showed his ID to the girl on the desk until he was shown into the office of someone who ‘might be able to help’, the intervening time having been taken up with internal phone-calls and subsequent transfers within the building. Miss Collinwood, when he was shown into her office, wasn’t too sure either if it was ‘within her area’.
‘What is it you need exactly?’ she asked.
‘I’d like to see the medical records for a patient named Patricia Lyons, a thirteen-year-old girl registered with Dr Scott Haldane at the Links Practice in Bruntsfield.’
‘Then why come here?’
‘Because the Links Practice told me her records were sent here.’
‘I’m sorry. Why?’
‘Apparently she was a green sticker patient — one of a number of children being monitored after having been exposed to tuberculosis at a school camp in the Lake District.’
‘The Lake District? That’s in England. I don’t think we would be monitoring anything as far south…’
‘No,’ interrupted Steven, starting to run out of patience. ‘You’re not doing the monitoring but apparently medical records from Scottish children on the list have to come to you first before being submitted to the English body.’
‘Why?’
‘What an awfully good question,’ said Steven. ‘But they do. Surely somebody here must know where the girl’s records are?’
‘Give me a moment.’ Miss Collinwood picked up the phone.