Hathaway's phone did not ring until after nine. It was Lizzy Haines.
"Sergeant Hathaway? I've been trying to call Inspector Lewis but it seems his mobile is out of service. He said I could report to you if I couldn't reach him."
"Yes, that's right. So, what's up?"
"We've learned that our Doctor Who is a Doctor Turner, but that's as far as we've gotten. No first name, no specialty, no known place of business. There are at least a dozen Doctor Turners in the immediate Oxford area, and even more if we look a few miles farther afield. I figured the job of tracking them all down would go faster if you could put some of your DCs on it."
"Sure, no problem. I don't have too many here tonight, though, and it would probably be better to go knocking on doors in the morning, but we can at least put a list together over the next ten hours or so."
"Great, thanks! Give me a buzz when you have something. Cheers."
Hathaway stewed for a while, then eventually picked up his phone and tried Lewis's mobile number. As Haines had reported, the number showed up as out of service. Hathaway studied his phone uneasily. What would Lewis be up to that he would decide to turn off his phone? Especially when he knew that at least Hobson's report would be coming in tonight. Hathaway's mind kept reaching the same conclusion, no matter how hard he tried to steer away from it. Yet he knew he often suspected the worst of Lewis when it came to women, and generally was completely wrong.
About a quarter of an hour later, his phone buzzed again: Hobson calling.
"Hi. I can't get through to Lewis, but the post-mortem report is ready. You want to come over now?"
"Sure, as long as you aren't going to quiz me the way you did Lewis this afternoon."
"Not to worry, Sergeant. I always tailor my lessons to the level of the pupil. Yours will be a very elementary review."
He was still smiling at that when he arrived at the mortuary.
"Well, Lewis's theory on the method of killing was spot-on, I'm sorry to say. The shot tore through several organs, critically the heart and lungs, killing her almost instantly. What is even more interesting, however, is that the blood on the floor was a mix from two different people: Julia, here, and Charlie Fuller, he of the ninety-six stab wounds. And there were blanket fibers matching those found on Fuller. So you have your physical connection between them. All you need now is one very twisted individual with both types of blood on his or her hands."
"Three types of blood, I expect, counting Ruby."
"Ah, yes, Ruby. But you and Lewis aren't on that case, are you? Not with those fingerprints."
Hathaway cocked his head sideways. "Fingerprints? Lewis told me we weren't taking Ruby because we already had Charlie Fuller."
Laura looked at him intently. "Ah. I may have said too much, then. Only I thought you and Lewis were being up front with each other about the cases from now on."
Hathaway blew out his cheeks. "What is it? You might as well tell me so I don't have to force it out of you."
She gave him a skeptical look, but let it go. "Lewis's fingerprints were found on two twenty-pound notes that were left sealed in Ruby's mouth. He didn't tell you?"
Hathaway just shook his head. Not again.
"Grainger told me that he's not really a suspect, but they don't have anyone else right now, and his fingerprints were there, so what else can they do?"
"What was he paying her forty quid for?' Hathaway wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
"She's his source. But it looks like someone wanted her silenced, and probably wanted to teach a lesson to anyone else thinking of grassing."
"Ohhh. Yeah, he had quite a bit of information after just one night of pounding the pavement." Hathaway was relieved at the above-board explanation. Then he got an idea.
"Hey, Laura, any chance you know of a Doctor Turner who has trouble accounting for all the medications he dispenses? Especially pseudoephedrine?"
"Ah. As it happens, I might. I'm on the Radcliffe's Board of Discipline, you know. But it's all very confidential, at least until something is proven."
Hathaway groaned. "Don't get all coy with me. It looks like this guy is probably our killer and all we know is his last name. There are dozens of Doctor Turners in the area. He's brutally killed three people in less than forty-eight hours. And if he knows about Ruby, he may have seen Lewis talking to her."
She assessed this information. "Alright, but if anyone asks, you figured this out through good old fashioned detail work. There's a Doctor Fredrick Turner who is being investigated by the Board. Large amounts of prescription drugs and other controlled substances, pseudoephedrine and needles included, have gone unaccounted for when under his control. He's not very cooperative, either. Massive temper."
She typed at a computer station a moment, then pointed to the screen. "This is his staff directory photo." Hathaway looked at the dark-haired man about his own age. He had rather sharp features and did not smile for his staff photo. Hathaway took a screen shot with his phone.
Laura scribbled something down on paper. "Here. This is his home address. And don't tell me you can't read my writing, the joke is not funny anymore."
"Thanks, Laura." He called for uniform to go pick up Turner, and phoned Lizzy Haines to give her the name, address, and photo. "Now, if only I could get through to the philandering Inspector Lewis."
She looked puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"
"He's on a dinner date tonight . . ."
"That's good for him!"
". . . with my mother."
Laura did her absolute best to not laugh out loud, but she quickly gave in. When she finally regained control, "That must be a bit awkward for you."
"Indeed. Especially when it looks like he's shut off his mobile."
"Why not try hers?"
Hathaway did so, but he got the same message. Her number was also out of service.
Hobson could tell Hathaway's imagination was running free with this further information. "Hmm, that doesn't look too good. But maybe he's taken her home already. It's nearly ten."
"Yeah, I'll try that. I'm sure that must be it." James did not sound convinced. "Thanks for the report."
He drove to his house, parked, and went inside. The house was dark and quiet. Louise was not there. That old goat has her at his place. As he drove to Lewis's, he tried one more call.
"Le Manoir, how may I help you this evening?"
"I was wondering if Mr. Robert Lewis was still there. He had a dinner reservation for two this evening, I believe?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lewis is not here any longer. I believe they left around nine."
As soon as he rang off, his phoned buzzed with an incoming call. "Yeah, Hathaway."
"Sarge, it's PC Daniels. We went to that address you gave for Turner but there's no one here. Neighbor says Turner went out about nine o'clock. Do you want us to wait here in case he comes back?"
"I guess that's all we can do for now." Growling to himself, Hathaway headed for Lewis's house.
* * *