“Yeah,” he said, sitting up a bit straighter. His expression smoothed out, like he was putting on his customer service voice. “How can we help? Do you need some assistance?”
“You could say that.” Laura dug her badge out and showed it to them both, glancing at the young woman who was sitting beside Paul. She didn’t need an audience. “I wonder if we could chat for a moment?”
She felt tension thrumming high in her veins. If he was the killer and she was about to get herself left alone with him, she could be in danger. But what was she supposed to do? Nate wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do this with her, not right now. She couldn’t let him just carry on roaming the streets. She had her gun. And at least here, on the hospital grounds, there was a good chance of there being a witness at all times. That might make him think twice, if he really was the killer.
“Sure,” Paul said. He followed her glance at his coworker, and evidently recognized her hint towards privacy. “Uh, I was actually due a break anyway. I’ll head inside with you – there’s a little room we use near the canteen. Sandy, can you take us off call for fifteen?”
“Sure,” the other woman nodded brightly, though her eyes kept flicking over Laura uncertainly.
Laura was sure it wasn’t completely unusual, an EMT having to talk to the police. There were cases they would have been involved in, treating victims and so on. Sandy didn’t argue, only watched curiously as Paul got down from the back of the ambulance and walked Laura inside.
“What’s this about?” he asked, when they were inside the doors, walking down the hushed halls. Even though it was still daytime, there was a kind of quiet to a hospital. The people sitting in the main waiting area were subdued, many of them looking blank as though they’d been there for a long time, even the ones clutching bloodied towels against hands or foreheads. A baby was crying, but even that was shushed as they walked by.
“It’s regarding an ongoing case,” Laura said. “I’d feel better discussing it when we’re in your break room.”
“Of course,” Paul nodded. They were surrounded by people, so it was hardly an unexpected request, Laura thought. He led her to a small room, as promised, which was occupied by only one other person. A slightly overweight man with headphones jammed in his ears, a paperback and a bowl of kale and chicken salad in front of him, and the same uniform as Paul. He nodded a greeting when they entered, but that was all.
Laura instantly felt better. A witness, but also one who wasn’t going to be listening in to their conversation. The best she could have hoped for.
The room held three tables surrounded by chairs, as well as a wall of lockers and a fridge, sink, and cupboards for plates and mugs. Paul led her to one of the tables, then hesitated as she sat down. He turned to get a smoothie out of the fridge, marked with a piece of tape that had his name written on it in black pen. Then, at last, he sat down to face her.
“So, what is it?” he asked. “Is it about that stabbing last week?”
“No, this is about some older cases,” Laura said. “Well, older for you. There are three that took place over the last few years. I’d like to get your perspective on them, if I can.”
“Oh, sure,” Paul said, flipping up the top of his smoothie shaker and taking a draught. “Anything you need.”
“Alright,” Laura said, reaching into the inside of her jacket. She’d stashed a file there containing the things she wanted to show him: the three EMT reports for Veronica, Stephanie, and Lincoln. “I have your name on a couple of these reports, so I want you to take a look at them and see what you remember.”
Paul took the first one, his forehead furrowing as he looked it over. Something he saw made his eyebrows lift and eyes widen, his face going pale. “Oh, God. Wait. Is this about the clock killer?”
“What makes you ask that?” Laura replied, instantly on guard.
“The name,” he said. “Veronica Rowse. I saw it on the news earlier today. That’s one of the victims, isn’t it?”
Laura silently cursed in her head. Captain Blackford hadn’t been able to hold off the media forever. There went the element of surprise. Still, it wasn’t like it was unusual to deal with members of the public who already knew some details of the case. She needed to watch him carefully, figure out if he knew more than he should. One slip, and she would have him. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s about that case,” she said. “This is one of the victims.”
“And the other two?” he asked.
Reluctantly, Laura nodded.
Paul sighed heavily, passing a hand over his mouth and shaking his head. “Damn. That’s… wow. I resuscitated her. And now she’s dead anyway.” He flipped through the other two pages, stopping at Stephanie Marchall’s. “This one, too?”
“You see why I wanted to talk to you in particular,” Laura said, glad he’d picked up on the connection. “It seems like you would be best placed to tell me anything that stands out about these two cases.”
Paul’s eyes roved over the reports again and he shook his head slowly. “I don’t remember anything in particular that isn’t already written down here,” he said. “They were… well, pretty much like any other callout. We did good. Saved their lives. I just… I can’t believe they’re gone now.”
“What about the third one?” Laura asked. “Do you know anything about that? Did you happen to be there as well?”
Paul glanced over the third sheet. “Lincoln Ware – it doesn’t ring a bell. No… No, I definitely wasn’t on shift that night.”
“How can you be so sure?” Laura asked, watching him closely. She couldn’t get a read on whether he was genuine or not. Had he reacted properly to the name, like he
really hadn’t heard it before? She couldn’t tell. “This happened six months ago. You remember what you were doing on that night?”
Paul gave her a brief smile. “I’m sure,” he said. “That’s my birthday. I was out with family.”
Laura leaned back in her chair, sighing internally. He had an alibi for that night. He still would have had access to the records, of course, but it became less of a connection if he wasn’t personally there at all three of the near-death calls.