Chapter 2

2. Down by the docks

I was born in Liverpool, down by the docks.

Pete McGovern, “In my Liverpool home”.

DCI Sandra Latham met them down at the Pier Head, after they had checked in and deposited their luggage at their hotel. They sat together on the concrete plinth beneath one of the Lambanana sculptures, which could be found at various locations across the city, and shared a picnic lunch.

‘Tell me exactly what evidence you have so far,’ Jonah urged. ‘Start from the beginning. We’ve had bits and pieces from different people and I’m not sure how much is true and how much may just be hearsay and speculation.’

‘OK.’ Sandra thought for a moment before going on. ‘We were called in a week ago yesterday. That was two days after Olive Carter was found dead in her bed when the Care Assistant went to help her up in the morning.’

‘So she died overnight Tuesday to Wednesday ten days ago?’ Jonah queried.

‘That’s right. They called the doctor, and he said that it looked like natural causes. He thought it might have been a stroke or a heart attack, but he warned them that he had to inform the coroner and there might have to be a post-mortem.’

‘Did anyone object to that?’ Jonah asked.

‘None of the staff raised any objections. I rather fancy one of Mrs Carter’s sons may have been unhappy about it, but I don’t think he … well, yes! I remember now. It was John: the younger son. He did try to stop the post-mortem. He said that it was unnecessary and a desecration of his mother’s body.’

‘That’s interesting.’ Jonah filed this piece of information away in his mind, making a note to follow up on whether or not Mr John Carter had had any opportunity to administer an overdose of insulin to his mother. ‘Now go on, what do you know about how she died.’

‘Olive Carter had type 2 diabetes. It had got to the stage where it could no longer be controlled purely by diet and oral medication. She was on a regimen of once-a-day injections of slow-acting insulin, which a member of staff would bring to her just before she went to bed each night.’

‘So couldn’t it just have been an accidental overdose?’ Lucy asked.

‘Apparently not. There was far too much insulin still in her blood for that and, even if she had accidentally given herself too much, because it was what they call intermediate-acting, it shouldn’t have sent her into a coma as quickly as it seems to have done. It was supposed to last through the night and just stop her blood sugar rising while she was asleep. The pathologist reckons that she must have been given a large dose of rapid-acting insulin, which lowered her blood sugar very quickly, and catastrophically. Her blood also contained evidence that she had taken a larger than normal dose of her prescribed sleeping tablets that evening. She was in the habit of taking them, because she was in a lot of pain from arthritis and found it difficult to sleep.’

‘So, you think that someone dosed her with sleeping tablets and then injected her with insulin?’ Peter asked, becoming interested despite having promised himself that he was going to have no part in what he saw as Jonah’s interference in the investigation. ‘Or is the idea that the member of staff who gave Olive her insulin injection used a different dose of a different sort of insulin without her knowledge?’

‘That’s what we don’t know,’ Sandra replied. ‘And that’s why we haven’t arrested Jonathan Bates yet.’

‘But the Home has suspended him from work,’ Bernie pointed out. ‘That suggests that he’s more under suspicion than any of the other staff, doesn’t it?’

‘That wasn’t our doing,’ Sandra told her. ‘I think the manager felt she had to act because Olive’s family were openly accusing him of killing her. She wanted to be seen to be doing something and she was afraid that other residents might not like having him around while there was a cloud hanging over him. He was the person who put Olive to bed and gave her both her sleeping tablet and her slow-acting insulin. He wrote it all up in the medicines book, which they keep in the office. What we can’t be sure of is whether anyone else might have come into Mrs Carter’s room later on and given her the fatal overdose.’

‘Where did the rapid-acting insulin come from?’ Jonah asked sharply. ‘If Olive didn’t use that kind, how did the murderer get hold of it?’

‘Again, that’s something we don’t know for sure. There’s another resident who has type 1 diabetes and has to inject several times a day. The Home insists that all residents keep their drugs locked away in a cupboard in the office. Any member of staff could have got the key and taken some.’

‘Well, did they or didn’t they?’ Jonah asked impatiently. ‘Was there any missing when you checked?’

‘Unfortunately we can’t tell for sure,’ Sandra sighed. ‘Their records aren’t exactly … Well, to be honest, they were a mess! The staff are supposed to record every dose that they administer, and update the stock list every time drugs are used or replenished, but it’s very clear that this often doesn’t happen. It’s impossible to tell for sure whether the insulin – and the sleeping tablets for that matter – came from the supply in the drugs cupboard or were brought in from outside.’

‘And this Jonathan Bates gave Olive her insulin and sleeping tablets that night,’ Jonah mused. ‘What about this other woman – the one who died a while back? Is he in the frame for that too?’’

‘Edna Lomax? Well, again, it’s difficult to tell. We don’t even know if she was killed, or if it was natural causes, the way everyone thought at the time. She was cremated, so there’s no chance of going back and re-examining her body now, and nobody thought it was necessary to do toxicology tests on her because the doctors were confident that there was nothing wrong.’

‘But presumably Jonathan Bates was around the day she died?’

‘Yes. He was on duty that evening and he told the doctor that she’d been complaining of a headache and went to bed early that night. He could have been setting the scene to make it more likely that it would be accepted that the death was natural.’

‘Or he could have been telling the truth and she really was ill,’ Lucy pointed out forthrightly.

‘Indeed,’ Sandra agreed with a smile. ‘That’s why we haven’t charged him with anything.’

‘Aunty Dot said that people were pointing the finger at Jonathan because both women left him something in their wills,’ Bernie said. ‘Was that sufficient motive do you think? I mean, it seems rather unnecessary when they were bound to die within a few years anyway. How much exactly was he going to get from them?’

‘Mrs Lomax – the first death – left him a collection of Wedgewood china, which he’d admired. She didn’t actually name him in her will; she just asked her daughter to pass them on to him when she passed away. Mrs Carter, on the other hand-’

‘Hang on a moment!’ Jonah interrupted. ‘You’re saying that Edna Lomax’s daughter was actually the one who gave Jonathan the china?’

‘That’s right. Her mother told her that she wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate it and look after it. Jonathan, as I said had admired it and he’d also been particularly kind to Mrs Lomax and she wanted him to have something to remember her by.’

‘So the daughter can’t have thought there was anything wrong with Jonathan,’ Jonah said thoughtfully. ‘If she suspected him of applying pressure on her mother to leave him something – or if she had any idea that he could have hastened her death – she could have kept it all for herself and not given him anything. Now what about Olive? What did she leave to Jonathan?’

‘Five hundred pounds and a watercolour of the lake in Sefton Park. She added a codicil to her will just over a year ago, in which she set out a list of small legacies to friends. It was mostly personal effects – pictures, ornaments, jewellery and so on – but one or two of them, Jonathan included, also got cash.’

‘Five hundred pounds isn’t much to risk murdering someone for,’ Bernie observed, ‘especially if they were likely to drop dead spontaneously fairly soon anyway.’

‘Well, Olive was the youngest resident in the Home and in comparatively good health,’ Sandra told her. ‘I agree that the gain was hardly worth the risk, but according to her GP, she could have lived for a good few more years.’

‘OK,’ Jonah conceded, ‘Let’s assume for the time being that this legacy does provide Jonathan with a motive for killing Olive. Is he the only person with something to gain from her death? Presumably her children must have been set to inherit something too?’

‘Yes,’ Sandra agreed. ‘She had two sons: Desmond, the older, is unmarried; his younger brother, John, has a wife and a grown-up daughter. The two brothers are Olive’s residual legatees and executors. Her estate includes a house in Mossley Hill, which has been valued at between two and three hundred thousand.’

‘Which they were set to lose if Olive lived for long enough for all the equity to be swallowed up in Care Home fees,’ Bernie put in. ‘That’s what my Aunt told us. She said that the house was up for sale, because Olive didn’t qualify to have her fees paid for her.’

‘That’s right,’ Sandra agreed. ‘Which is another reason why we have to consider other possibilities apart from Jonathan Bates when it comes to who might have killed Olive. Both brothers – and arguably John’s wife and daughter – have a motive, but would they really kill their mother just to get hold of her house?’

‘I suppose it depends how much they needed the money,’ Jonah mused. ‘How were they off financially?’

‘Fairly comfortable,’ Sandra answered. ‘They’re both secondary school teachers, and so is John’s wife, Valerie. They’re all coming up to retirement soon, with final salary pensions to look forward to; and they’ve both paid off the mortgage on their houses. There isn’t any real reason why they’d be desperate for cash.’

‘It could have been more the principle of the thing,’ Peter suggested. ‘They might not like the idea of their family home being sold in order to save the Local Authority the cost of Olive’s care in her old age.’

‘A bit drastic, though, to bump her off, just to spite the Council!’ Bernie commented.

‘The one member of the family who might be desperate enough to commit murder for money is Mrs Carter’s granddaughter,’ Sandra went on. ‘She’s an unemployed single mum with two kids. And they’re all currently living with her parents, which I suppose might also give them a reason for wanting to cash in their inheritance sooner rather than later.’

‘OK,’ Jonah said. ‘We’ve established that the family have a motive. Did any of them have the opportunity to administer the fatal dose? Presumably whoever it was would have had to be there during a fairly short time window?’

‘Not as short as all that,’ Sandra told him, ‘but you’re right: most of the critical time was during the night, when the only people who would have had access to Mrs Carter were the Care Assistant on duty and the live-in caretaker. However, it’s possible – although unlikely – that the insulin was administered as early as the middle of the afternoon. Desmond Carter took his mother out for the day, returning in time for her evening meal; and John and Valerie called in to see her shortly after she got back. So they could have done it. The only thing that militates against that is that they would have found it harder to obtain the fast-acting insulin, since they wouldn’t have access to the drugs cabinet in the Care Home office.’

‘How can you be sure about that?’ Jonah asked. ‘They are presumably familiar with the Home, having visited their mother there over a number of years, and keys can be stolen or borrowed and copied. If the drugs records are in a mess then it may be that the staff are equally careless about the keys to the office and the cupboard.’

‘Mmmm,’ Sandra murmured. ‘Yes. That’s perfectly true. We did check the drug cupboard for fingermarks, but there were so many that it was difficult to distinguish who they belonged to. The manager of the Home is adamant that the cupboard is always kept secure, but she would say that, wouldn’t she? And she is one of the staff who were on duty during the period of time when the drug was administered, so we can’t rule out the possibility that she was responsible. If you come back to the Station with me, I’ll show you the list of staff who were there at the crucial time.’

‘Good idea!’ Jonah declared enthusiastically. We’ve finished eating and Bernie has promised her cousin that she’s going to call on them this afternoon. So I suggest that I go with you while the others socialise.’

‘Hold on!’ Peter protested. ‘It’s all very well for you to decide that you want to spend your holiday interfering in someone else’s murder investigation, but Sandra’s family may be hoping that she’ll be able to come home for at least part of her weekend!’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Sandra said with a little laugh, which made Peter suspect that all was not completely well with the Latham family. ‘My girls are staying with their dad until Monday evening, so nobody’s going to be worrying about what I’m up to. I would be really grateful if you’d come and have a look at the case files,’ she added, turning to Jonah. ‘I’m really not clear where to go from here.’

‘That’s settled then!’ Jonah smiled round with an air of satisfaction. ‘We’ll go through the evidence while Bernie hobnobs with her relations, and we’ll meet back at the hotel for dinner.’

‘I think one of us ought to go with you,’ Lucy objected. ‘In case you need anything.’

‘Rubbish!’ Jonah said decisively. ‘It’ll only be for a couple of hours. I’m sure Sandra will be able to cope, and we can always ring you if there’s an emergency – not that that’s at all likely.’

Lucy pursed her lips and looked towards her mother, still dissatisfied. She felt a proprietorial interest in Jonah and did not trust any stranger, however well-intentioned, to know how to look after him properly. What if his urine bag needed emptying? Or if he suffered a bout of autonomic dysreflexia[1]?’

‘OK,’ Bernie said, giving her daughter a look that told her not to make any more fuss about the matter. ‘We’ll drop you off at the police station and go on to Joey’s. We’ll give you until four-thirty, which will probably be as long as Joey and Ruth will want to put up with us, and then collect you and take you back to the hotel. No arguments,’ she added firmly, seeing Jonah opening his mouth to speak and anticipating that he was about to protest that there was no need for them to curtail his session with Sandra so early. ‘It’s been a long day and we’re all tired. Not to mention the importance of allowing time for you to do some physio before dinner.’

‘Yes miss,’ Jonah said meekly. Then he grinned up at Sandra and winked. ‘You see how it is? We’d better keep on the right side of Nanny, or she won’t let me go out to play with you again!’

[1] A condition, common in people with high-level spinal cord injuries, where there is a sudden and potentially lethal rise in blood pressure.