Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Alec did not need another complication such as shell shock. He wondered what Aidan had done during the War. He’d have to find out, but he didn’t seriously consider the porter’s theory. A jarring of the spine such as he had described would be quite enough to set off the aftereffects of a concussion.
That, however, brought him no nearer to understanding the crime.
After scarcely three hours’ sleep, Alec was picked up at the hotel by the police car and the detective constable he had requested. In a wet, grey dawn, they drove to the Royal Infirmary.
The hospital smelt of disinfectant. Alec supposed it was better than the other smells it undoubtedly disguised. He tried to breathe shallowly.
A long wait ensued before Alec was at last permitted to speak to a doctor.
The young man who then appeared looked as somnolent as Alec felt, and nowhere near old enough to have earned his white coat and stethoscope.
Dr. Gibson was old enough and awake enough, however, to be adamant that on no account was Aidan Jessup to be disturbed.
“Not even by the police.”
“His brother?”
“No one will be allowed to visit him.” After many hours of two eminent consultants disagreeing as to whether the patient needed an operation to relieve pressure on the brain, he had at last fallen into natural sleep.
“Left to sleep until he rouses naturally, he has an excellent chance of waking as his normal self. He’s even been given a private room to reduce the risk of premature awakening.
And,” said Dr. Gibson with a tired grimace, “his clothes and his hotel suggested he’d be able to pay for it. ”
“He can. Excellent,” said Alec. “I’ll be able to leave DC Peters in his room without exciting undue interest or inviting questions.”
“Can he sit still and silent for as long as need be?” the doctor asked sceptically.
From the corner of his eye, Alec saw Peters about to burst a blood vessel.
Smoothly, he forestalled an outburst that would have seriously undermined their credibility.
“It’s a skill every detective has to master.
He can sit outside the door if you insist, but you must see that people will wonder what’s going on. ”
Not to mention that he wanted Aidan’s very first words captured, and wanted to be informed at once when he came round.
He hated to badger a sick man, but it would be best to catch him before he had time to come up with an explanation of his plight, and, with luck, before Patrick tried to see him.
The story the brothers had agreed upon had very likely been wiped out by Aidan’s concussion, always supposing he had taken it in in the first place.
Dr. Gibson capitulated. “Oh, very well.”
DC Peters had already been given his instructions. He melted away unobtrusively to take up his post.
“Thank you. I have one more question. Is it possible to tell when the patient received the injury to his head?”
“You’ll have to ask the consultant.”
“You didn’t hear him offer an opinion? I’m not asking you to give evidence, just to give me an indication.”
“I wasn’t on duty yesterday morning. According to the patient’s chart, at the time when Mr. Jessup was brought in, Dr. Penstone considered the degree of healing of the external injury suggested that twelve to eighteen hours had passed since it was inflicted.
Now, if you can possibly spare me, I do have other patients to take care of. ”
Alec thanked him absently. Here was unwelcome, though anticipated, confirmation of his guess. Aidan Jessup had been injured the very evening that Castellano had died; another strand in the rope that might hang his next-door neighbour’s son.
He went to find a telephone. No doubt he ought to report to Superintendent Crane, but three hours’ sleep was not sufficient to enable him to tackle his irascible superior. Whatever the Home Secretary’s complaint involved, he’d rather not know.
He asked the operator for Whitehall 1212 all the same.
It was still early and Tom Tring might have gone in to the Yard before setting about the various enquiries left for him—the Bennetts’ tale, Lambert’s whereabouts, Whitcomb’s evidence.
One might suppose that Whitcomb would have come forward already if he had seen anything.
In Alec’s experience, however, businessmen were prone to negligence in matters where no profit was to be made.
At the very least, finding out the time he had walked through the garden might be helpful.
The connection to London took forever, and when at last Alec got through to the Yard, he was told DS Tring had not come in.
Quickly, before the operator lost the London connection, he asked for his own home number.
Daisy might have news of Tom. If not, there was a good chance she would see him at some point during the day, and she could pass on the doctor’s report on Aidan Jessup.
Besides, as always when he was out of town, he just wanted to hear her voice.
Elsie answered the phone. “Oh dear, sir, I’m ever so sorry. She’s already gone.”
“Gone where?”
“To Lincolnshire, sir. Mr. Irwin picked her up in a motorcar. I think they went to see Mrs. Aidan.”
So he just wanted to hear her voice, did he? Now he realised that what he had really wanted was to make sure she wasn’t meddling in the investigation.
And he didn’t like the answer.