The Maker Page 14

  Bryce wanted to block out his grandmother’s words and howl out his agony against the injustice of it. He wanted to scream and shout and pull things off the walls. He wanted to hit something. Hard. It was like it was happening all over again—the confusion, the panic, the fear. And along with it, the questions nobody wanted to hear.

  ‘Are you Angela Sutcliffe’s next of kin?’ ‘Is your wife an organ donor?’ ‘Is there anyone else you’d like us to call?’ ‘Do you want to switch off her machine?’

  The nightmare of it washed over him and bombarded him from every side. He’d managed to avoid thinking about it for three years, but now he’d run out of time. He had to make a decision. The knowledge sat like concrete in his gut.

  With a heavy sigh, his anger left him and he dragged himself back to his chair. His grandmother wiped at the tears on her cheeks and delicately blew her nose. He sat with his head in his hands and tried to make sense of his thoughts.

  Deep down, he knew what he had to do. Had always known. It was like his grandmother said: Angela had been dead from the moment it happened. Advanced technology and quick medical intervention were the only things keeping her alive. If he didn’t feel so damned guilty every time he thought about why he hadn’t made the decision to end things in the first place, it would be a hell of a lot easier now.

  Not that anything to do with making such a decision was easy. In fact, it was the hardest thing he’d had to do. But, he owed it to his wife to let her go; to let her find her peace.

  He lifted his head and looked at his grandmother, his heart stuttering at the love and kindness in her eyes.

  “I’ll support your decision, no matter what, Grandson. Like I always have. I love you, Bryce and it doesn’t come with conditions. Don’t forget that.”

  Tears burned behind his eyes and he blinked hard to keep them back. Reaching across the table, he took her soft, worn hands in his.

  “I love you, too, Grandma and I’m so glad you took me in. I don’t know what the hell would have become of me if you’d turned me away. I’ll be forever grateful for everything that you’ve done.”

  Fresh tears sparkled in her old eyes. “You’re my family, Bryce Sutcliffe, my flesh and blood. How could I turn you away?”

  Bryce shrugged and swallowed the lump in his throat. She knew how important she was to him. He’d told her more than once. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, but he knew one day, he must. Life was tough. And hard decisions sometimes had to be made. Like the one about Angela.

  He hated the very thought of it, but his grandmother was right. It had to be done. He had to stop living with his guilt every day and do what was best for his wife. She could lie there in a bed for another sixty years on a machine that did the living for her. The woman he loved and had made his wife was gone and was never coming back. End of story.

  * * *

  The sun still had a bite to it, even though the afternoon was nearly done. A cooling breeze that blew in from the ocean brought a modicum of relief. It had been four long days since Bryce had given his wife’s doctors permission to switch off the life support. Now, he stood with his grandmother and Angela’s parents on the cliffs high above Bondi Beach. Seagulls squawked in the distance and waves rolled in far below. The gray shadows of hulking freighters hugged the horizon as they made their way to far off shores, laden with cargo. It had been one of Angela’s favorite places.

  In his hands, Bryce held the urn that contained his wife’s ashes. She’d wanted her ashes to be scattered over the cliffs of the eastern coastline she loved so much. It saddened him that she’d had to wait three years to have her wish granted and he was determined that at last, she’d rest in peace.

  Her parents read a couple of passages out of the bible. They stumbled over the words, but the soothing psalms appeared to bring them comfort. Without accompaniment, his grandmother began to sing Amazing Grace. Her voice, though weak with age, still held a pleasant tune and the simple, but powerful words brought tears to Bryce’s eyes.

  When it was over, he glanced across at his parents-in-law. They clung to one another, sobbing quietly. Only the gentle rush of the ocean and the occasional call of a bird disturbed the stillness. With a deep breath, Bryce lifted the lid of the urn and held it high up in the air. Tilting it sideways, he shook it slightly and waited for the breeze to catch his offering. Within moments, Angela’s remains were taken by the wind. One second she was there, the next, she was not. Just as it had been in life.

  At least they hadn’t argued the morning she’d been injured. He could be grateful for that. He’d kissed her good-bye like he usually did and wished her luck with her day. He might have stopped attending the IVF appointments, but that didn’t mean he’d stopped caring. He’d wanted a baby as much as she did, but when they came away disappointed time after time, he’d learned to accept it wasn’t meant to be. Eventually he’d focussed his energies elsewhere.

  After the accident, he’d worked like a madman and made had detective sergeant in no time at all. Now, he was in line for another promotion. If he managed to solve the case involving the deaths at the Sydney Harbour Hospital, it would almost be guaranteed.

  A light touch on his arm gave him a start and brought him back to the present. His grandmother gave him a reassuring squeeze and he offered her a sad smile. Putting his arm around her thin shoulders, he drew her in against his side. Together, they stared out across the mesmerizing blue of the ocean. Bryce breathed in a lungful of warm, salty air and eased it out again.

  “You did the right thing, Grandson. She’s at peace now.”

  “Thanks, Grandma. I think so, too.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the softness of her wrinkled cheek and tightened his hold around her shoulders. She barely came halfway up his chest and yet she was a pillar of strength, of solidness, of love.

  She’d given him a good life when his had been torn apart. She’d given him comfort and stability when he was floundering in a world of fear and confusion. She’d raised him with love and discipline so that he became the man he was today. He owed her everything. He owed her his life.

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked and he knew she meant right now.

  “I need to get back to work. We’re investigating a death at the Sydney Harbour Hospital. We’re under pressure to put someone behind bars. I need to pull my weight.”

  His grandmother patted his hand. “Yes, the Senator’s wife. I saw it on the news. You go and do what you have to do. I’ll find my own way home.”

  “Don’t be silly. I have time to drop you back home. Or anywhere, if there’s somewhere else you might like to go.”

  “Thank you, Grandson, but Angela’s parents have offered to have us over for tea. I accepted on behalf of both of us.”

  Bryce bit his lip. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another hour or two remembering his late wife. It was entirely selfish, but what he needed was to get busy and returning to the station was the best place for him to be. He realized he’d been unconsciously mourning her death for three long years and as well as tossing her ashes to the wind today, he also had to move forward.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma. I really need to get back to work. I’ll go and see them now and offer my apologies.”

  He walked over to where Angela’s parents were huddled against the wind and offered them his sympathy and his apologies for having to return to work. After bidding them a somber farewell, he turned and headed toward his car.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Bryce hesitated outside the Glebe morgue and braced himself for what lay behind the closed steel doors. He’d attended autopsies before and those memories now gave him pause. Apart from the distinctive, peculiar smell, the place just flat out gave him the creeps. He didn’t know how people could work there day after day.

  Aware that he was wasting time, he swallowed a curse and pushed open the door. Having taken pity on Jett who’d never witnessed an autopsy, he’d sent his young partner back to the station. There was no need
for both of them to spend the rest of the day erasing the unsettling memories viewing a post mortem could bring.

  During the course of his enquires, he’d been relieved to discover both Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan had undergone autopsies. Although it wasn’t legally required, the hospital had opted to do them, and for that, Bryce was grateful. He was eager to discover the official causes of death.

  He nodded a greeting to a couple of female assistants who were in the ante chamber counting and recording supplies. They acknowledged him with waves and friendly greetings. He didn’t attend the city morgue often enough to be on a first name basis with either of them, but he was far from a stranger.

  “Detective Sutcliffe, we heard you were stopping by. It’s nice to see you again.”

  He tried hard to think of the brunette’s name, but came up empty. Fortunately, the other woman spoke, saving him from responding.

  “Doctor Wolfe’s already in there. She’s waiting for you.”

  “Thanks,” he managed and quickly pulled protective garments over his clothes and donned a pair of gloves. He imagined doing this ritual was similar to scrubbing up for surgery—except no one would be saved that day. But perhaps they would reveal some badly needed answers? He could only hope. Covered from head to toe, he pushed through the door that led to the main room.

  Two rows of at least ten tables each lined the room. Four or five of them were occupied with forensic pathologists bent over bodies that were pale and stiff. The temperature was at least ten degrees cooler than the antechamber. Bryce scanned the room until he found the doctor he sought.

  Forensic pathologist, Doctor Samantha Wolfe, was the head of the city morgue. Bryce shuddered to think how many people she’d cut open and examined to determine the cause of death. He couldn’t believe such an attractive and normal-looking woman would want to bury herself among the dead, but there was no accounting for what drove some people. There had to be a reason she preferred to spend her time with corpses.

  “Detective Sutcliffe, good morning. I’m sorry it’s taken us so long to get to this. We’ve been flat out dealing with that house fire a few days ago. There were five victims. Three of them were children.”

  Bryce nodded. He’d heard about it. Thank God it had been out of his jurisdiction. “I understand and I’m sorry I’m late. I was caught in traffic. Thanks for waiting.”

  “No problem. My patients don’t have the greatest interaction skills. I’m glad for the company.”

  He inclined his head by way of reply and forced himself to move closer to the stainless steel gurney. On it lay an elderly woman who he presumed was Eileen Green. A cloud of blue-gray hair stuck out from all sides of her large head. It wasn’t the only thing that was large. He wondered what had killed her.

  “All set?”

  The doctor looked at him over her plastic face shield and gave him a wink. In another environment, he might have returned the smile he saw in her eyes, but something about the creepiness of the morgue held him back. He wished he could treat the whole thing as light heartedly as Doctor Wolfe, but the truth was, he was way outside his comfort zone. As if understanding his reticence, Samantha reached for a scalpel and made the first incision.

  With quiet efficiency, she cut through Eileen Green’s chest. After using the Stryker saw to cut through the ribs, she prised open the woman’s chest. What followed was an examination of one organ after another. Each was removed, examined, weighed, sliced for pathological testing and then placed in a large, blue plastic bag to be eventually returned to the chest cavity. It was a macabre, yet fascinating process and Bryce watched in silence, both awed and revolted.

  “She has an enlarged heart and serious clogging of her arteries, which isn’t surprising given the size of her, but I don’t think she had a heart attack.”

  “What killed her, then?”

  Samantha’s dark brows came together in a frown over the top of her face shield. “From what I read in the hospital notes, it sounds to me that she suffered some kind of poisoning. She was seen vomiting repeatedly and complained of severe stomach cramps. I want to pay particular attention to her stomach contents and I intend to test some of her tissues for known poisons.”

  “You think she might have been poisoned?”

  “Either that, or she had an acute reaction to something she ingested. The lining of her stomach is severely abraded. I need to ascertain what caused it.”

  Bryce nodded and then conversation ceased when the doctor once again picked up the Stryker saw and cut through the woman’s skull. He wanted to look away when she peeled back Eileen Green’s face, but forced himself to hold his gaze steady.

  It was simply part of the procedure, a necessary part of the autopsy. He had to stop thinking of the body as a person. She’d never feel anything again. It was important to determine the cause of death. It might mean the difference between a murderer being captured or remaining free.

  An hour later it was over. Bryce was more than relieved when Samantha put down her scalpel and peeled off her gloves.

  “It’s done. I’ll send these samples off to pathology. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer in the next day or two. From what I’ve seen, I’m almost certain she was poisoned. There’s no other reason for her death.”

  Bryce nodded and took a moment to absorb the doctor’s words. It appeared Chanel might have been onto something. If Eileen Green were poisoned, it was possible the other two patients had been, too. He was reminded of the need to obtain a copy of their autopsy reports and ascertain their causes of death.

  “I’m also looking into the deaths of two other women who were patients at the same hospital,” he said. “Amelia Arncliffe and Robyn Evan. They died within the last couple of months.”

  “If you can provide me with their full names and dates of birth, I’ll look them up for you.”

  “I’m not sure I have that much information at hand, but I’ll do my best. I have first and last names and can get a pretty close date of death.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. It’s been a little quieter than usual around here the past month or so. You never know your luck.”

  Samantha led the way back into the antechamber and after disposing of her gloves and stripping off her protective clothing, she began to wash her hands thoroughly.

  “What are you looking for, anyway?” she threw over her shoulder, curiosity plain on her face.

  “I’m not sure. I guess I want to rule out the possibility of any other suspicious deaths. The two came to my attention a couple of weeks ago through an unrelated source. Now we have a third linked to the same hospital. I’m just being thorough.”

  Samantha smiled and winked at him. “No harm in that.”

  He stared at her. She was even more attractive now that she’d removed the standard-issue hospital scrubs and protective face shield. She looked like she was somewhere in her early thirties, probably not much older than him, but working so often with the dead had taken its toll. It was barely past eleven in the morning and yet lines of fatigue were etched into her face. He guessed they were permanent fixtures on her otherwise clear complexion.

  Still, for all her attractiveness, he didn’t feel the slightest physical reaction to her. Apart from being able to appreciate a pretty, intelligent woman, she did nothing for him.

  He frowned at the thought. He hadn’t had sex with a woman for three years. He ought to be more excited when an attractive woman winked at him. Okay, it wasn’t exactly a come on, but there was more than a little interest in her sparkling, brown eyes.

  Averting his gaze, he busied himself by removing the protective clothing that covered him. He tossed them into the laundry skip that stood in one corner. As if sensing his withdrawal, Samantha turned away and gathered her things.

  “I’ll let you know when I have the results back from the lab.”

  “Great. If we have a rogue staff member on the loose killing patients, we need to act fast, before he can strike again.”

  She raised a delicat
ely curved eyebrow. “He? So you already have a suspect in mind?”

  Bryce shrugged, unwilling to speculate in front of the doctor. She was a member of the medical fraternity, after all. Not that Bryce anticipated she’d do anything untoward, but the sensitive nature of his information dictated he proceed with caution.

  “He. She. We’re not sure of anything at this stage. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Who alerted you?”

  “A doctor working at the hospital.”

  She stared at him a moment longer, as if weighing what he’d said. In an effort to avoid further conversation about the ins and outs of his case, Bryce turned away and pulled on his jacket.

  “How long before you can get me a copy of those reports?” he asked.

  “I have a little time before I start my next PM, so I’ll go back to my office now and see what I can find. Do you have the information handy?”

  Bryce pulled out a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. It was a copy of the details he’d taken down in Chanel’s statement. He handed it to the doctor.

  “This is all I have.”

  She reached over and took it from him. Their fingers touched and again, he felt nothing.

  “I’ll see what I can find. Do you have time to wait?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He followed her through a labyrinth of offices divided by glass-walled partitions. Some were occupied, but most of them were empty. At last, they came to hers. It was larger than the others, but despite the fact it commanded a corner of the room, it was without a window.

  “You guys aren’t big on looking out onto the outside world, are you?” he joked. He had yet to see a window in the whole building.

  “We spend so much time with the dead, I guess it would feel a little weird looking out into the sunshine. Besides, it helps the cooling system to work more efficiently without hot air coming through the windows.”

  “I guess.”

  Samantha sat down at her desk and shoved aside a pile of files so that she could draw her keyboard closer. Her fingers clicked over the keys. It hardly seemed like any time at all before she announced she’d found what he was after.