They hurried back to the ward. The nurse at the reception desk was already expecting them, thanks to Owen's early preparation.
"Please, come this way," she said briskly. "The patient's been awake for a half-hour now, and the docs have cleared him to be interviewed. It seems he's back to health again."
It seemed so, May thought, because already she could hear raised voices coming from the ward. There, the suspect was arguing with the ward nurse.
"I will not speak to anyone! There is no point! I am an innocent man, and I don't need this interference or for people to start upsetting me. Just let me rest for another few hours!" Nurse Keyes was protesting.
May hurried into the ward. She was met by a glower as Nurse Keyes turned their way. May observed that his color was much better. He sure did look healthy again, but he was clearly in a terrible mood, and she didn't detect any gratitude for their life-saving actions last night.
"And what is the meaning of this?" he demanded, addressing the ward nurse. "These people are going to harass me while my health is still so fragile? Please tell the supervisor this isn'tacceptable! If I was still working here, which I might be once the lawsuit is over, I wouldn't allow it."
May stepped forward, wanting to get the conversation back on track quickly.
"Nurse Keyes, we're investigating a murder case. In the last three days, three local women have been brutally killed. It would be very helpful if you could cooperate with us," May said firmly.
The nurse was still frowning, but now she didn't think he was as angry as he had been before. The question was, May knew, whether guilt was overtaking his anger.
Or was he genuinely concerned that this was happening in his neighborhood?
"What do you want to know?" he said grumpily.
"Your movements yesterday and the day before. Can you account for your time?"
"Why should I?" he shot back.
"Because you are a suspect. The note that you left yesterday could be construed as a confession."
"What? That's ridiculous! I don't know anything about those murders, and I certainly wasn't confessing!"
"What were you intending to convey with that note then?"
"I didn't mean that I'm the killer. I meant — I meant that I'd made some bad life decisions, that's all!"
“And the patient files? Were you looking up victims?”
“Did you take them?” He looked appalled. “I need those. They are my records that I was a good nurse and did my job correctly. I demanded them from the hospital. I’m using them in my case.”
It certainly sounded as if the nurse’s fighting spirit was flaring again after his low point, May thought. Now they just needed to channel it in the right direction, to get the answers they were looking for.
"So you should have no problem in helping us then? That would be a sensible life decision," May encouraged him. “I’ll give you the patient files back when we leave.”
The nurse seemed to be considering.
"What if I refuse to talk to you? What can you do? Will you arrest me then?" he asked.
"We'd gather more evidence, and you would be held for questioning, at least until we can eliminate you as a suspect. Of course, refusing to talk would add to the burden of evidence."
Nurse Keyes' eyes widened. He looked as if he was going to argue some more. Then, he seemed to think better of it.
"Fine. I'll tell you then. The day before yesterday, I felt very upset. I mean, I'd been a top performer here at the hospital and then my whole life ended up in ruins. I felt suddenly depressed. I felt as if the harsh words I did allow myself to speak to a patient had backfired on me. I felt as if I'd been caught up in unnecessary conflict."
"So what did you do?" May hoped that there would be an alibi — or a lack of one — somewhere in this emotional outpouring.
"I went to the bar at lunch time."
"Which bar?"
"The Road House, down by the corner of the highway."