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cavalier way the officers were treating her and Dave, Elizabeth left the dayroom before the others. She saw two soldiers in full uniform, armed with rifles and handguns walking down the corridor.
    ‘We have orders to report to Lieutenant-Colonel Heddingham, ma’am.’
    ‘You’ll find him inside there.’ She pointed to the door and walked away, wanting to get as far away from the officers as possible. Psychiatry to her meant humanity, and she doubted that either the lieutenant-colonel or the major possessed that characteristic.
    ‘You took John West his tea?’ she asked the sister.
    ‘And a bar of dark chocolate. He told me to thank you.’
    ‘Sister?’ Dave left the day-room with the soldiers.
    ‘This is Sergeant Packard, and Corporal Summers.
    They’re here to relieve the police guard.’
    ‘I see. I don’t like guns on my ward, Mr Watson.’
    Tight-lipped, the sister looked them up and down.
    ‘Neither do I, sister.’ Dave headed for the lift with Simmonds and Heddingham.
    ‘Then John West is from the army?’ the sister asked Elizabeth, as soon as the others were out of earshot.
    ‘We don’t know, but it’s a possibility. He’s being transferred to a military hospital this afternoon.’
    Elizabeth was angry at having a case she’d expended time and energy on being snatched out of her hands by two military automatons. A case, she suspected, she would now never discover the outcome of.
     

CHAPTER THREE
    ‘Dr Santer seems to be taking a personal interest in this case,’ Lieutenant-Colonel Heddingham commented as he followed Dave into his office.
    ‘Dr Santer is a dedicated doctor, and as such takes an interest in all her patients,’ Dave replied formally.
    ‘Really?’
    Dave recognized, but chose to ignore, the scepticism in the lieutenant-colonel’s voice. ‘Really,’
    he reiterated. If Heddingham had been more sympathetic he might have mentioned the tragedy that had led Elizabeth to concentrate on her professional life to the exclusion of all else.
    The lieutenant-colonel moved behind Dave’s desk.
    He picked up the telephone. ‘Nine for an outside line?’
    ‘Yes.’
    He continued to hold the receiver in his right hand.
    ‘You can’t help me with anything else, Mr Watson.’
    ‘I’ve a clinic to run.’ Dave picked up a pile of files and left, resenting being dismissed from his own office. He took the lift to the psychiatric ward. The two soldiers were standing to attention outside John West’s door, no chairs and mugs of tea for them.
    Dave couldn’t see their rifles and he wondered if the ward sister or Simmonds had insisted they leave them somewhere secure. But their hand guns were in their holsters. Like the sister he bristled at the thought of loaded guns on his ward. The thought had never crossed his mind that the police might have been armed. In retrospect he realised they probably had been, but at least they’d had the decency to carry their arms discreetly.
    ‘Mr Watson, I wasn’t expecting you. Do you want to see any of the patients?’ the sister wheeled a drug trolley into the corridor in preparation to dispense the afternoon medications.
    ‘I’m on my way to clinic. Have you seen Dr Santer?’
    ‘She told me to tell anyone who was looking for her that she’d be in the archives, Mr Watson.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Mr Watson?’ she hesitated. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m exceeding my authority, but this is my ward.’ The sister pursed her lips, and Dave steeled himself to receive criticism. The nursing officer wasn’t the easiest of people to get on with, but she ran a difficult ward efficiently and had done so for a number of years, which had earned her his respect. ‘I appreciate a case like John West’s can present difficulties, but is it really necessary to station armed soldiers outside his room? I persuaded them to leave their rifles in the lock up in my office but they insisted they be allowed to carry their handguns. I told them the main ward door