The 11:05 Murders by Crimson Cloak Publishing

Author:Crimson Cloak Publishing
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: rape, mystery suspense, mystery detective, belfast, police thriller mystery, mystery action, mystery action adventure romance, detective inspector, detective murder killers mystery suspense inspector thriller, mystery police procedural

THIRTY-FIVE

Stewart parked the unmarked police car in the hospital car park, and made her way to reception. There she learned that Mrs. Weir had been taken to the Female Surgical ward, and her condition was described as stable. She found her way to the ward by following the many signs in the corridors, eventually speaking to the nurse in charge and asking if she could see Mrs. Weir for a few moments. The nurse demurred until she saw Stewart’s warrant card. Without further argument, she led the detective into the ward and down to the patient’s bed.

Mrs. Weir was a sorry sight. Her right arm was in a sling; her face, neck, and chest were covered in bandages; a saline drip on a stand was attached to the wrist of her good arm. Also attached to the hand of her good arm was the hand of her husband who was sitting by the side of the bed, exuding sympathy for his poor wife’s condition. Stewart was taken aback when she saw him, but it was too late to retreat.

She stepped closer to the bed and said, “Good morning, Mr. Weir. Just following up on the assault on your wife.”

The man, urbane as ever, said, “Good of you to take an interest. I need those two scoundrels found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”

Stewart looked at the woman. Her eyes were moving erratically like those of an animal in distress. “I wonder if you might be able to answer one or two questions, Mrs. Weir?” Stewart asked.

The woman’s eyes turned to her husband, and she said something unintelligible through clenched teeth.

“I’m afraid my wife will find it difficult to communicate with you this morning,” Weir said. “She has metal plates in her jaws, and some wires and stitches. She won’t be saying much for a day or two.”

Stewart said carefully, “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps she could nod her response to direct questions?”

Mrs. Weir seemed frightened, but her husband held his hands apart in an expansive gesture. “We could try that,” he agreed.

“Did you see who attacked you, Mrs. Weir?”

The woman nodded calmly enough, but her eyes remained frightened and restless.

“Can you describe your attacker or attackers?”

Again the woman looked troubled and hissed something through her clenched teeth.

Her husband was happy to act as interpreter. “Masks,” he said. “She says that they were wearing masks.”

“Did they come into the house from the front?”

The woman shook her head.

“They came in through the back?”

An affirmative nod, but again her anxious eyes flashed back and forth between the sergeant and her husband.

“You were in the kitchen when they broke in?”

Another nod.

“And you tried to stop them?”

A nod.

“How? Did you physically attack them?”

A shake of the head and another hissed addendum. Weir, who was listening carefully to his wife’s attempt at speech, again interpreted. “She just screamed, and they attacked her to keep her quiet.” He stood up. “Look, Sergeant, I’ve already reported all of this to your colleagues. My wife is in no fit state to answer any more of your questions.

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