Page 100 of M for Murder

‘Jeez!’

She looked at him concerned. ‘Do you remember anything that happened?’

Max thought hard. He remembered how he had been sitting in the back room of the library looking through the newspapers. He remembered how he had heard a noise and had gone to investigate. He remembered standing by the window and wondering how the glass had been shattered.

In a flash it all came back to him. How he had been hit over the head and how he had seen the face of his attacker.

Shit!

Although he had awoken in a hospital bed, it still surprised him when he looked down and saw the pale blue robe he was wearing.

‘Where are my clothes?’ he demanded.

‘Clothes?’ The nurse shook her head. ‘You can’t go anywhere. You took in a lot of smoke before they pulled you out. You’re going to have to stay here for a while and get some rest.’

‘You don’t understand. I need to find my clothes.’

Climbing from the bed and pushing her out of the way he opened the small grey locker beside the bed. Inside he found his jeans on a hanger beside his shirt. In the pocket of the jeans he found the newspaper page he had ripped out in the library. Quickly he scanned the page, looking for the Christian names of Helen White’s three sons. He found them mentioned at the bottom of the page, together with their ages.

‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’

‘Mr Sutton, I really do wish you would get back into bed,’ the nurse pleaded, trying hard but failing to keep an authoritative tone to her voice. Max smiled at her, his mind working overtime as he tried to fit the puzzle together in his head.

‘Oh, Mr Sutton?’

He glanced up to see Agnes Barnes entering the room, a pot plant under one arm. Seeing his state of undress, redness crept up her neck.

‘Ms Barnes, just the lady I need to see,’ Max exclaimed, treating her to a wide grin and grabbing hold of her free arm to pull her further into the room.

Agnes seemed pleased at his enthusiasm. ‘I’m glad to see you’re back on your feet, Mr Sutton. You had us all worried. Are you feeling okay now?’

‘Ms Barnes. Help me out here,’ Max said, ignoring her question. ‘Your Doctor. Turner, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, Doctor Turner, that’s right. Such a lovely–’

‘Ms Barnes. Concentrate. What is Doctor Turner’s Christian name?’

Agnes frowned at him, looking concerned. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Mr Sutton? You look a little flushed.’

‘Please, Agnes. This is very important. What is his name?’

‘Clifford.’ She nodded and smiled. ‘It’s Doctor Clifford Turner.’

Clifford. Rodney’s younger brother.

Max beamed at her, watching the first piece of the puzzle slot into place. Now it was time to fit the second piece.

‘Do you know where Officer Boaz is, Ms Barnes?’

‘Officer Boaz? The gentleman you were with?’ Agnes shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Sutton, I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.’

Max gave a grim smile, not surprised. Of course, it was only a hunch, but having seen the name in the paper and remembering what Doctor Turner had said in the diner the day before – I knew some people called Boaz once – he knew there was a chance it could be true.

A hand took hold of his arm and he turned to see the blonde nurse. ‘Please, Mr Sutton. You have to get back in bed,’ she said, her brows knitting in frustration.

He gave her a toothy grin, easing himself free from her grip. ‘I just need two minutes, honey, then I’m all yours. First though, I need to make a very important phone call.’

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