The Silent Suspect Nell Pattison (best classic books of all time TXT) 📖

if Lukas had killed Nadia, he was a vulnerable person alone in hospital after a traumatic experience. Though if he was guilty, that explained why he’d refused to communicate with me, not wanting to incriminate himself. I felt a surge of annoyance that he might have been trying to manipulate me.

Visiting hours had long since ended, but nobody had tried to throw me out yet, which surprised me until I realised the nurses assumed I was with the police. Taking advantage of this, I had a quick conversation with the PC who was stationed outside the door to Lukas’s room. I wanted to give Lukas one last chance to communicate with me, to tell me what had happened, so I didn’t feel like he’d been trying to use me.

‘Can I go in and speak to him?’ I asked in a low voice, conscious of disturbing patients and staff at this time of night.

He looked at his watch, then back at me. ‘You’re with social services?’ he asked, and I nodded. It wasn’t exactly a lie – they were the ones who paid my wages after all.

‘Sure, you can go in,’ he told me. The police obviously didn’t consider Lukas a threat.

Cautiously, I pushed open the door a fraction and looked in, but the curtain next to the bed was pulled across a little way so I couldn’t see his face. He didn’t wear hearing aids, so calling out to him wouldn’t help. I stepped a little further into the room and waved my hand around the curtain before I moved into his eyeline. He was awake, but he didn’t turn to look at me, his eyes blank as he stared towards the window overlooking the car park.

Lukas, I signed, but he didn’t seem to notice me. It’s perfectly acceptable to tap a deaf person gently on the arm or shoulder to get their attention, but the only part of his body I could reach from the foot of the bed was his leg, and that didn’t feel appropriate. I stepped further to my left, towards the window, in the hope that I could move into his field of vision. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze on me, his eyes puffy and full of sorrow.

Is there anyone you want me to call, who can be here with you? I asked him. I’ve told Sasha what’s happened, I added. Whatever happened, you have rights, and Sasha can help.

He shook his head, and his eyes filled with tears.

I gave him a few moments, but he didn’t respond any further. I had done all I could. It was an awkward situation; I felt responsible for him, despite the fact that he was Sasha’s client, not mine. I was about to turn and leave again when his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. The speed of his movement took me by surprise, and his grip was so tight it hurt. When I looked up at him, I could see a fire burning in his eyes, and I tried to pull away. The charming man always ready with some banter was gone, and he was scaring me slightly.

I know who did this, he told me, releasing my hand so he could sign.

If you know what happened to Nadia, you need to tell the police, I replied. He wrinkled his nose but didn’t reply. I know one of the detectives, DS Singh. He’ll help you, I added.

Nobody can help me, he replied.

Who was it? I asked. Lukas, who killed Nadia?

He looked at me, his eyes still bright, and he licked his lips nervously. At that moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket, making me jump. It was a message from Sasha.

Stay there, on my way up.

She must have sent it from the hospital car park. I looked back at Lukas, but he’d turned away, and the moment was lost. I tried to attract his attention to ask him again who was responsible, but he ignored me.

Accepting defeat, I left Lukas’s room and went to find one of the nurses, to make sure Sasha would be allowed onto the ward at this time of night. The nurse I spoke to didn’t seem happy about it, but she agreed to it anyway. Something about the presence of police officers obviously swayed her decision.

The buzzer at the door to the ward sounded a couple of minutes later, and I went up to meet Sasha. She swept through the door, her long curly hair looking a little wild as she was framed in the doorway, her eyes searching for me. Her brightly patterned quilted coat was starkly contrasted against the drab walls of the ward, and she swept up to me with the imposing air I recognised from when she was ready to fight for one of her clients.

Paige! What the hell happened? she asked as soon as she saw me. I quickly explained as much as I could – my call from Lukas, the fire, and the police arriving at the hospital to arrest him.

I need to see him, she told me, her face grave. I want to know what he has to say about it, and I expect he’ll need help to get a solicitor.

The PC was watching our signed conversation, openly curious, and I led Sasha to him so I could make introductions. We were interrupted by a different nurse from the one I had spoken to – her uniform was a different colour, and her badge said she was the ward manager.

‘I’m sorry but this is not acceptable,’ she hissed at the three of us. ‘We have lots of patients on this ward, sick people who need to rest, and your presence is disturbing them.’

I interpreted this for Sasha, and she nodded.

I understand, and I apologise. I’m a social worker. If you’ll give me ten minutes to see my client, after that we’ll leave.

The ward manager didn’t look impressed, but she gave a stiff nod, then looked at the PC.

‘I’ll be here until he’s discharged