Desperate Measures (7 page)

‘In good health, could have lived another forty years,’ Susan, the pathologist, commented. ‘Clean liver and lungs, strong heart. Not always the way with doctors.’

Janine looked at the man on the table. He’d a strong face, large nose and high brow. His clothes had been photographed, swept and taped for trace evidence then removed and sealed to be admitted into evidence. His body had been photographed and examined before being cleaned. The three wounds to his chest were vivid, shocking against the pallor of his skin but now overshadowed by the sweeping Y-shaped incision that the pathologist had made to carry out the internal exam.

Why, Janine thought? Why would anyone want to kill a GP? Someone who was providing a public service, someone who people trusted, relied on. Someone who tended to the sick, to babies and pensioners, the dying, those in pain.
First do no harm
. It seemed so peculiar.

If the man had been killed anywhere else she’d have been tempted to think of it as a case of mistaken identity but Halliwell had been locking up the surgery. Either whoever had shot him had done so deliberately, sought him out and killed him, or Halliwell had been an obstacle for someone who had come to the surgery carrying a handgun to some other end. Armed robberies these days usually focused on places with reasonable amounts of cash and minimal security: pubs, restaurants and the like. But the surgery didn’t have any cash. They didn’t store drugs in significant amounts. The last time the burglary happened they’d taken computers and prescription pads but they had done so cleverly, long gone before the police were alerted. No guns that time, no casualties.

‘No defensive wounds,’ Susan said, ‘no sign of a scuffle, no skin under the nails.’

‘The beauty of a gun,’ Janine said. ‘No contact needed between parties, means there’s little or no exchange of trace material.’

‘Harder for you,’ Susan said.

‘I’m hoping ballistics can give us a steer,’ Janine replied.

‘Any motive?’ Susan asked, beginning to stitch the incision closed.

‘Not sure,’ Janine said. ‘We’ve someone we’re talking to, parted from the doctor on bad terms, shall we say.’

‘Good luck,’ Susan said.

‘Thanks.’ Janine replied, ‘I’ve a feeling I’m going to need it.’

It was clear from the formality of the opening procedures and from Janine’s tone that Fraser McKee was no longer simply being regarded as an innocent witness. Janine wasn’t clear yet whether he had committed any crime but he had lied to the police, by omission, and that was a serious matter in the light of a murder.

‘I’m concerned that you’ve been keeping information from us,’ she said.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Fraser McKee said.

‘What can you tell me about the shooting of your colleague, Donald Halliwell?’

‘Nothing,’ McKee said. He looked at the solicitor by his side then back to Janine, though she noticed his eyes slid over hers.

‘You’re hiding something. Something about the shooting?’ Janine said.

‘No!’ McKee looked terrified. ‘Nothing. I’ve nothing to do with that. Honestly.’

‘‘Really? On Tuesday afternoon you and Don Halliwell argued about your future at the practice,’ she began. ‘A couple of hours later he was dead.’

‘That has nothing to do with me,’ he said.

‘Prove it,’ Janine said, ‘stop lying to us. The row with Don Halliwell?’

He looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘I wanted to talk about being made a partner, I needed a rise. Don said they were going to let me go, that I wasn’t right for them. I wasn’t right!’ He said derisively.

‘Why was that?’ Janine said.

‘He couldn’t stand the competition, that’s what it was. I could see he was making mistakes and I let him know about it,’ McKee said, an edge of malice in his tone. ‘He didn’t like that. Dissent in the ranks.’

‘What mistakes?’ Janine said.

‘Marcie Young for one.’

‘Dr Halliwell was fully exonerated at the inquest.’

‘Not everyone thinks that was the right verdict,’ McKee said.

‘Including you?’ Richard said.

‘That’s right.’ McKee raised his chin.

‘So yesterday you argued about your future at the practice, you claim that you left and went home. There you find that someone has done over your house and you flee in your car, you crash and then you come to us for help. What’s all that about?’ Janine said.
              McKee hesitated, pale lashes blinking.

‘This is a murder inquiry,’ Janine reminded him. ‘You’ve been less than honest with us. Now’s the time to start.’

McKee said nothing, the muscles round his jaw jumped and flickered.

‘Or perhaps,’ Janine said, ‘you actually returned to the surgery and waited for Dr Halliwell, furious that he was blocking your promotion, taking your job.’

‘No, I didn’t, I swear.’

‘Tell me,’ Janine said.

He pressed his lips together still reluctant.

‘Traffic investigators have not found any evidence of another vehicle involved in your car crash,’ Richard said.

‘Omissions, inconsistencies,’ Janine said, We could just send you on your way, you’ve not been honest with us so why should we believe you when you claim you’re at risk of harm?’

Fear darted through his eyes. ‘You can’t do that,’ he said.

‘Try me,’ Janine answered. ‘You start talking, you stop wasting our time.’

McKee’s shoulders dropped and he slumped back in his chair. ‘I’m in debt, serious debt. I owe thousands. I got into a mess: student loan, credit cards, bought the house at just the wrong time. So,’ he drew a breath, ‘I went to this loans office, Barry Stroud, you know him? Sold him my debts but I couldn’t keep up the instalments, it was crippling.’ He stopped, closed his eyes.

‘What then?’ Richard said.

‘Stroud offered me a way out, payment in kind. If I helped some friends of his break in to the surgery.’

‘Yesterday?’ Richard said.

‘No, the time before,’ said McKee, ‘I had to make sure the alarm was off.’

‘The alarm rang,’ Richard said.

‘Yeah, they set it off as they were leaving, to throw people off the track, so they wouldn’t know they’d had inside help. These friends of Stroud’s,’ he curled a lip, ‘I didn’t know they were bloody gangsters.’
              ‘Yesterday?’ Janine said.

‘They’d been on about organising a repeat performance, all relayed through Stroud. I never met them. But I couldn’t do it. Stroud kept threatening me. I said no. Then yesterday … I got home and saw the house ... I knew it’d be me next. I didn’t know where to go. I got in the car. Don’s death was on the news.’ His voice shook, ‘I panicked, I lost control of the car. It was stupid.’

‘The crash was an accident?’ Richard said.

‘Yes,’ McKee said.

‘And the black 4x4?’ Richard said.

McKee shook his head. ‘Doesn’t exist.’

Janine was sick of his lies and half-truths, the way he had confused the lines of inquiry and wasted their time and resources.

‘So no one ran you off the road?’ she said.

‘No – but they killed Don,’ McKee’s voice broke.

‘Why would they do that?’ Janine said.

He threw his arms out. ‘As a warning. I wouldn’t agree to help them with the burglary so they killed him.’

‘Bit extreme,’ Richard said.

‘Or in mistake for me, then,’ McKee argued. ‘Look, if they find out ...’ He was still pale but beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. ‘Can you … please, what sort of protection do I get?’

‘We want all this in a written statement,’ Janine said, failing to keep the irritation out of her voice. ‘I advise you not to return home and we can refer you to our witness support scheme.’

‘But if I make a statement, if they know, they’ll come after me …’

‘That’s the point of the witness protection scheme,’ Janine said. ‘You act as a witness for us and we protect you.’

McKee moved to stand up and Janine said, ‘There’s just the matter of the charge.’

‘Charge?’ he stammered.

Janine nodded to Richard who said, ‘Fraser McKee, I am charging you with conspiracy to commit theft. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

McKee sat there, open-mouthed, aghast. What did he expect, Janine thought? A pat on the back? A free pass? Not going to happen. Even if the case came to court and the prosecution decided to grant him immunity he would still be expected to testify and witness protection was no joyride. He could kiss goodbye to his work as a doctor, he’d rarely see friends or family again. What a waste.

The boards in the incident room had been updated to reflect what they now knew: McKee’s involvement in the previous burglary, his financial problems, the Wilson Crew flagged up as behind the attack on his house. On the left, in the surgery section, there was a note about Dr Gupta’s sighting of a black Range Rover and this was linked to the attack on Halliwell’s car. Beneath a list headed ‘grudges’ were several names, including Adele Young, furnished by Butchers. The post-mortem results had been added.
              ‘There is no connection between our murder case and the McKee incidents,’ Janine said, ‘separate inquiries. The investigation into the previous burglary we’ve passed over to serious crime. McKee’s given his statement, he’s out on bail and under the care of witness protection.

‘The GMC?’ Richard said.

‘Notified,’ Janine said.

‘They’ll have to strike him off,’ Richard said.

‘All that training,’ Janine said, ‘down the drain. Now, the post-mortem holds no surprises: our victim is in good health. There was nothing recovered that could lead us to the identity of the assailant or assailants. And I’ve had word through that the formal identification was made by Dr Gupta. So, looking afresh, what do we think? Is a botched robbery still the most likely scenario?’

‘It doesn’t explain the attack on Halliwell’s car several hours earlier,’ said Shap.

There were murmurs of agreement. ‘For that,’ Shap went on, ‘we’re looking for a black vehicle with a powerful engine, and the Range Rover seen by Dr Gupta on the Monday evening fits the specs.’

‘If it’s not an attempted burglary then what?’ Janine said.

‘Gang members, novices or younger brothers upping the stakes to make an impression, it’s a cold-blooded hit and Halliwell’s a random choice,’ said Richard.

‘He was in the wrong place at the wrong time?’ Janine said. ‘I still find it hard to see Halliwell as a gang target. The surgery’s off the beaten track, if they were out to shoot someone why go there to do it?’

No one came up with any answers on that so Janine said, ‘Other angles?’

‘Can we rule out the family?’ Richard said.

‘There’s no kids, just the wife,’ Lisa said.

‘Anything to suggest her involvement?’ Janine said. ‘Lisa, Shap, you broke the news?’

‘She seemed genuinely upset.’ Lisa said, ‘She thought we were there about the damage to the car. She went into shock when she heard.’

‘She could have been practising in front of the mirror,’ Shap said.

‘Shap,’ Janine said, ‘it’s your faith in human nature gets me every time. OK, no concerns around the wife – but let’s be thorough, Lisa check out that her earlier pupils did have their lessons as she said.’

Janine looked at the boards. ‘Butchers, what have we got on patients so far?’

Butchers held up a DVD. ‘Marcie Young’s inquest. Janine nodded for him to play it and the team looked to the large screen up to the left of the incident boards. Butchers played the section where Adele Young gave her reaction to the reporters outside the court. ‘Nothing will bring Marcie back but that doesn’t mean I do nothing. It doesn’t stop here,’ she said firmly. She looked to be mixed race like her daughter, Janine thought. A black man behind her, a family member presumably – Marcie’s father, Janine wondered – pushed forward. ‘This isn’t justice, this is a mockery.’ He stabbed his fingers in the air. But Adele Young stopped him, ‘Wait!’ She turned back to the press. ‘We’ll get an independent review for Marcie and if that doesn’t work we’ll go to the ombudsman. These professionals need to start listening to us, to the families. And we need to stand up for ourselves and for the ones that are vulnerable, like Marcie, because no-one listens to them.’

‘Good speech,’ Janine said.

‘She’s got an axe to grind,’ Richard said.

‘Yeah, but she’s going through the official channels. It’ll be a fair few years before she’s exhausted all the options. At that stage, maybe she’ll think about taking it into her own hands.’

‘Now someone’s beaten her to it,’ Shap said, ‘maybe someone else who thought the official route was a waste of time.’

‘Another disgruntled patient? Could be,’ Janine said. ‘Butchers you’re talking to everyone who had an appointment with Halliwell on Tuesday. Use Shap if you need extra legs. And keep your ears open at the surgery.’