Peter Corris - Man In The Shadows

Greenway was still asleep. I’d shaken the cans a bit and the one I opened in the kitchen sprayed. I swore and dropped another can. Greenway woke up and came stumbling into the kitchen. I handed him the frothing can.

‘Brunch,’ I said.

‘Great.’ He lifted the dripping can and took a long pull. I examined him while he was drinking; he was tanned and lean, almost thin but not unhealthy looking. I pointed to the sandwich on the kitchen table and he fell on it. If he was carrying the AIDS germ it hadn’t done any damage yet to his appetite or powers of recovery.

He munched and spoke around the lettuce and carrot. ‘Well, what now?’

‘You go to the clinic where you met Annie. Ask around. See if anyone was asking for her, or you. Try your description of your assailant on people.’

‘Description? Assailant?’

‘Improvise. Do your best. Wouldn’t be a computer buff, would you? I looked around but you don’t seem to have equipped yourself with a PC yet.’

‘I know a bit about them,’ he said huffily. ‘I can get by. Why?’

‘The hospital’s records are all on computer. It occurred to me the safe way to do it would be to break into the system. We could sit in comfort while a hacker found out all we wanted to know.’

He snorted. ‘That’s in the movies. It’s more complicated than that. You have to know the codes. You’d have to work on the hospital’s system first. Comes to the same thing-a break in.’

I opened a can carefully and waited for the foam to rise gently through the hole. ‘I feared as much. The old ways are always best,’ I said.

Greenway left and I phoned Ian Sangster who is my friend and personal physician, also sometime tennis partner and drinking companion. I asked him what he knew about Southwood Hospital.

‘Not a lot. Nothing really good.’

‘Anything really bad?’

‘No.’

‘How hard would it be to identify a doctor who works or worked there just from his initial?’

‘First or last initial?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Jesus Christ, Cliff! What’re you playing at? There’s some very disturbed people at Southwood.’

‘How hard, Ian?’

‘Bloody near impossible. One of the things about the place that’s not quite… you know, kosher, is the turnover of medical staff. Pretty big.’

‘Who’s the money behind it?’

‘I’ve heard rumours but I’d rather not say-not over the phone to a person of dubious reputation.’

I was going to tell him that I wasn’t using my own phone and then I remembered that Greenway fell into the same category, sort of. I thanked him and hung up. The day was wearing on; I had a choice between another beer and a walk. I took the walk, trying to get out of the lengthening shadows into the afternoon sun. I thought about women-Helen and Annie and Cyn and others. All different, all difficult, all more interesting to think about than men.

I called Frank from a public phone.

‘What’s all that noise behind you?’ he said.

‘From the street. I’m using a public phone for security. No private phone is safe in the late eighties.’

‘Bullshit. Still, might be just as well.’

‘What’ve you got on the hospital?’

‘Nothing solid. The word is some of the staff need rehabilitating as much as the patients.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Southwood has been known to give people a second chance.’

‘I see. Anything known about the financial setup?’

His voice seemed to drop but it might have been my imagination. ‘Various sources. But a large medical practice with numerous… branches, is not unconnected.’

‘That’s interesting.’

‘Watch your step, Cliff. They’ve got lawyers… ‘

‘I’d never do anything against the law, Frank. You know that.’

Driving south with Greenway the second time was a very different experience from the first. He was alert, anxious to talk, and he seemed to think we had a good deal to talk about. First, he had to tell me about the success of his mission to the clinic.

‘I’m sure it’s the same guy,’ he said. ‘Thickset, bald, asking about Annie.’ He consulted his notebook. ‘Time’s a bit vague-a few weeks ago maybe.’

‘Doctor? White Volvo?’

‘Not known.’

‘Cut it out. You’re right though, it sounds like a piece of the puzzle.’

I’d seen one of the hospital’s computer terminals and he questioned me closely about it. Had I the make of computer and the model? Was there a printer attached? Did I see a photocopier? I wasn’t much help. With regard to Smith’s office I mostly remembered my aching head and the single malt.

He rubbed at some dirt on the windscreen. ‘Not very observant, are you?’

‘At least I didn’t get my gun stolen.’ It was a silly reply but it shut him up long enough for me to brief him on what we needed from the records: names corresponding to the initials in Annie’s diary and everything to do with them; a ‘Dr K.’ if possible; evidence on the hospital’s finances; drug irregularities.

Greenway nodded. ‘Anything else?’

‘Yeah. Anything that seems relevant.’

I questioned him about the hospital’s security arrangements which he’d observed on a preliminary visit, before he roped me in.

‘I didn’t see any patrols or anything like that. I don’t think there’s a resident security man. I think some kind of security service paid a couple of calls.’

‘You think?’

‘They did. Once or twice. I was pretty tired.’

‘That means a good alarm system. Could be tricky. How many patients and live-in staff, would you say?’

He thought about it for a kilometre or so. ‘Thirty-five patients, round about. The administrator’s got a flat in the grounds and there’re nurses on duty around the clock.’

‘Male nurses?’

‘I think… yes, I saw one.’

‘There’s your night-time security man. We’ll have to handle him somehow. Any ideas, Greenway?’

‘Call me Gareth.’

‘I can’t call anyone Gareth. How about Greenie?’

‘Jesus. Well, what about a diversion?’

‘You’re learning.’

It was a dark night, no moon and Southwood Hospital didn’t go in for floodlighting. There were lights on some of the buildings and along sections of path that were used at night, but most of the place was in deep darkness. I drove past the front entrance and up a side street looking for high ground. We found it in a quiet street on the south side of the hospital. We sat in the car and pooled our knowledge about the layout.

‘How do we do it?’ Greenwood’s voice almost broke. He was nervous. I didn’t feel a hundred per cent confident myself.

‘We can go through the fence. It wasn’t wired before, no reason to think it would be now. I assume the buildings have alarms-doors and windows and such.’

‘You could set off an alarm in one of the buildings while I go for the administration building.’

‘I could. With a bit of luck I can disconnect the alarm before you go in. I’ve got the tools. If it’s not too complicated.’

‘That’s it then.’

‘You’ll need some time. We might need something to keep them busy for a while.’

‘Like what?’

‘Let’s not think too far ahead. We can’t anticipate what might happen.’

I got my burglar kit, packed into a soft airline bag, from the back of the car and checked the items. Metal things that might clink were wrapped. We cut the fence and moved down the slopes carefully, skirting the pools of light, until we reached the main buildings. It was after ten, late for a hospital where activity begins early. We checked Smith’s flat; a light was on and classical music was playing softly. We waited until the music stopped and the light went out. It was quiet in the wards; from a hiding place behind bushes near the spot where our charge of a couple of days back had ended, we could see dim lights, some movement, but the hatches were battened down.