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“He’s been detained in connection with two murders and by now charged with two incidents of assault,” Will said. “We were hoping you could tell us more about him.”
The man snorted. “I could tell you plenty about that guy. He was always strange.”
“In what way?” Charlie asked.
“He was just off, you know? Like he didn’t quite fit in with the rest of us. Kept to himself mostly, but when he did talk, it was like he ... Well, I think he had a bit of a thing for that poor Gillianwoman who died, if you ask me. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he killed her.”
“Why would you say that?” asked Valerie.
“Because he told me once that he was gonna ask her out if she was ever discharged from here,” Davidson answered. “I told him that was against his employment contract, and so, if he did, I’d have him fired. After that, he kept his distance from her, but I could see him looking at her from time to time. And he paid her too much attention, it was creepy. Always hanging around the hall outside her room, staring at her in the communal spaces. There’s just something off about that guy, and the way he is with women. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to think he might have a screw loose.”
“Which security guard was on duty the night Gillian Pugh was murdered?” asked Valerie.
“He was.”
Valerie felt goosebumps on her arms.
They had discounted Ives, but if he was working that night, he’d have had an opportunity.
“Do you happen to have a sign in sheet from that night?” Valerie inquired.
“I sure do. Here.” The security guard walked over to a sack of files and then brought out a single piece of paper, which he handed to Valerie.
“And this was everyone who signed in that night?”
“Indeed, it was,” Davidson replied.
“Are any of these people in the building right now?”
“I would have said no, as we rotate our staff between night shifts and then day shift,” he said. “But Mary Broland is in tonight. She’s covering someone’s shift because they’re sick. She’ll be in the kitchen right now, cleaning up all the dinner plates.”
“Thank you, Davidson,” she said. “We’ll be heading to the kitchen now to speak with Mary Broland.”
The group hurried through the lobby and down a flight of stairs, their footsteps echoing on the stone steps. Finally, they emerged in a quiet kitchen, the only sound coming from a solitary member of staff washing up a mountain of plates and cutlery.
“Hello, Mary,” Doctor Whitmore said.
The person washing the dishes turned around.
She was a plump woman in her fifties with rosy cheeks. She wiped her hands on her apron and approached them. “You must be from the FBI!” she exclaimed when she saw Valerie, Will, and Charlie standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Doctor Whitmore. “Is there something wrong?”
Valerie nodded gravely as she approached Mary Broland. “There is, indeed,” she said. “We’re here to ask you about Patrick Ives.”
Mary’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh my goodness,” she gasped.
Valerie noticed something strange about her reaction. It was genuine shock, but she seemed to be upset about it.
“Do you know Patrick well?” Will asked, taking the words out of Valerie’s mouth.
Mary seemed to blush. She glanced at Doctor Whitmore as if she was afraid that she might say something that would jeopardize her job.
“It’s okay, Mary,” the Doctor said, gently. “Please just be honest. Did you know Patrick well?”
Mary looked at the ground as she talked. “Has he been arrested for killing Gillian Pugh?”
“He’s under suspicion and in custody, yes,” Valerie answered.
Mary gasped and shook her head. “I knew this would happen.”