The Plague Maiden by Kate Ellis

grinned. ‘I heard you’d asked for the files. Always making work for yourself. Are we going to pay a call on this
     Mrs Powell, then?’
    Wesley sighed. ‘When I’ve got a moment. Neil rang. He’s had nighthawks. I promised I’d go over there.’
    ‘Nighthawks? Is that infectious? Has he seen a doctor?’
    ‘Nighthawks are people with metal detectors who dig up archaeological sites at night.’
    ‘So what does he expect you to do about it?’
    ‘Show my face. Make it look as if we’re doing something. I told him that his team should take it in turns to watch the site
     at night and call the uniforms out if anything happens. I think he was hoping for a round-the-clock police guard.’ Wesley
     grinned.
    ‘Hasn’t he seen our overtime budget?’
    ‘I’m afraid Neil inhabits a parallel universe where the police’s main priority is the protection of his site.’ He stood up.
     ‘I’ll make that call to Morbay General. I know it’s a long shot but if anyone’s been poisoned by eating something they’ve
     bought at Huntings, at least we might get to know right away. Then I’d better go and calm Neil down, and if I’ve got a spare
     moment I might get a chance to go and see this Mrs J. Powell. And I’ve asked Steve to trace those two people who were sacked
     from Huntings. It might be worth having a word.’
    Wesley looked at his watch, wondering how soon he could get out to Belsham. And what he’d find when he got there.
    *
    In the intensive care unit of Morbay General Hospital Dr Vikram Choudray looked down at the patient and shook his head. She
     had been rushed in by ambulance in the early hours of the morning and in Dr Choudray’s professional opinion it was touch and
     go. She looked so fragile lying on the bed, a pile of flesh and bones in a pale blue hospital gown, tubes sprouting from her
     parchment skin, her thin grey hair soaked in sweat. The monitor bleeped monotonously but that was a good thing. It was when
     it emitted a constant whine that the staff would know that all their best efforts had been in vain.
    ‘Doctor …’
    Choudray turned. Sister Atkins was standing there. She was a statuesque woman with fair hair folded into an immaculate French
     pleat, giving her the look of some serene Roman goddess come among mortals disguised in a nurse’s uniform. She towered over
     the doctor as she smoothed down her thin plastic apron.
    ‘There’s been a call from the police. They want to know if anybody’s been admitted with any sort of poisoning, particularly
     food poisoning.’ She looked at the grey figure on the bed. ‘I think we should tell them about Mrs Sommerby.’
    ‘We won’t know if it’s poisoning until we get the results back from the lab.’
    ‘I’ve seen something like this before when I worked up North. I’m sure it’s …’
    ‘The husband told me that she didn’t eat anything he didn’t eat.’
    ‘How can he be sure of that? He can’t have been with her twenty-four hours a day. She might have gone shopping and had a cake
     or an ice cream …’
    ‘So why haven’t there been other cases? I say we wait until we’re sure. We’d only be wasting the police’s time if we were
     wrong.’
    Dr Choudray turned his attention to the patient in the next bed while Sister Atkins checked Edith Sommerby’sblood pressure. The readings weren’t good. She was weakening; Sister Atkins knew the signs.
    If Dr Choudray hadn’t been so pedantic, she would have rung the police already. But perhaps he was right. They should wait
     and see.
    ‘Much damage?’
    Neil Watson stared down at the series of neat holes in the ground. ‘If I knew what they’d taken I’d tell you. They’re usually
     after coins or jewellery.’
    ‘They probably only got away with a couple of old horseshoes and a rusty nail,’ Wesley observed optimistically.
    ‘Let’s hope, eh. We’re taking it in turns to keep watch from now on.’ He shuddered. ‘Wish the weather was better. Not brought
     the