Pine View Residential Home for the Elderly was everything Beth expected it would be and nothing more. It carried the look of a former hotel; one side was backed against an industrial estate, while the front had a road, a stone wall, and a view of a strip of pine trees that was just thick enough to obscure the view of the fields beyond it.

Other than cars passing by, there was nothing for the residents to look at. The frontage was more car park than lawn and there was a narrow flowerbed containing not quite enough flowers to hide the weeds.

Beth stood to one side as O’Dowd pressed the bell and waited. A shadow appeared behind the door’s frosted glass. When the door was eased open there was a rasping squeak as the hinges protested.

‘Sorry. Visiting’s at ten. No exceptions.’

O’Dowd’s foot thumped against the closing door as she lifted her warrant card. ‘Police. We’re here to speak to Mavis Keane.’

The care worker pulled a face. ‘You’d best come in then.’

As she stepped inside the old folks’ home, Beth was struck by the banality of the place. It was held in a time warp. All the ladies wore floral dresses and the two men had slacks pulled up over their bellies. The air hung with the antiseptic smells of liniment and detergent with an undertone of fried bacon. A wall-mounted TV blared out the last remnants of a breakfast show presented by a smug man in a crisp suit and his put-upon co-host.

The care worker led them along a corridor. ‘She’s just down here.’

‘Thanks.’ Beth spoke before O’Dowd could unload on the care worker. ‘What’s her state of mind?’

A malicious smile spread across the care worker’s face as she stopped and opened a door without knocking. ‘See for yourself.’ With the door swung wide, the care worker leaned a shoulder on the wall where she could oversee her charge.

As Beth followed the DI into the room she saw Mavis Keane wasn’t going to be much use to their enquiries. The elderly lady lay on a surgical bed which had both guard rails lifted to prevent her from falling out. At the foot of the bed, she saw a red light indicating it was powered by electricity. The only reason she could think of for this was that the bed was a hospital-type which moved its base so as to prevent its occupant getting sores. Therefore Mavis Keane must be more or less immobile.

‘Hello, Mrs Keane? Mavis?’

Beth marvelled at the way O’Dowd had the self-control to park her anger and use a soft tone. It was a skill she knew she’d have to master if she was to succeed as a detective. Various situations called for different tactics and her own emotions would always have to take second place to the needs of the investigation.

The woman’s head turned to look at them. ‘Are you doctors? HELP! There’s doctors in here. I don’t want them touching me.’

‘We’re police. We have a few questions to ask you. Do you think you can help us?’

Mavis shrank her head back as far as her frail body allowed, her eyes suspicious in a fearful face. ‘You’re not doctors?’

‘No. We are police officers. We’re here to ask you some questions about your grandson.’

‘I haven’t got a grandson. Nor a son. Who are you? Are you doctors? If you are doctors, my bunions are killing me. Can you take a look at them?’

While nobody had said as much, it was clear that Mavis hadn’t been told about her grandson’s death, or in her confused state the news hadn’t registered. There were no family photos in the room and the old girl appeared to live in a world populated only by doctors. O’Dowd shot Beth a look full of exasperation.

Beth took the cue and stepped forward a half pace. Mavis had turned her head to face the far wall. Her white hair was so sparse Beth could see her scalp between the strands.

Perhaps a little role play might trigger something. ‘Mavis, do you remember working up at Arthuret Hall with me?’

‘As a doctor? You’re a doctor, aren’t you?’ Mavis’s voice went from confused to proud. ‘I used to be a doctor.’

Beth painted a smile on her face and tried to layer it into her voice. ‘No, silly, we worked in the kitchens there. You were cooking and I had to do the dishes. Surely you remember me?’

Mavis’s face lit up. ‘Joanie, is it really you, Joanie?’

‘It is. Do you remember feeding all those kids? I certainly remember washing all their plates.’

‘I didn’t feed any kids.’ Mavis’s head rolled to face Beth and she fixed her with a proud stare. ‘I was a doctor. You’re not a doctor. You’re probably not even a nurse.’

Beth felt O’Dowd’s fingers give a gentle pull at her arm. When she turned to look at her boss she saw nothing but sadness and pity in her eyes. It was clear Mavis’s mind had failed her, and now all her thoughts were about doctors. Had it not been for the handwritten nameplate on the door, Beth would have suspected the surly care worker had brought them to the wrong room out of spite.

As she walked back to the car, Beth pondered on the futile existence of Pine View’s residents. There would be infrequent visits from relatives they no longer recognised, regimented days and carers who earned minimum wage washing them down with a haste and roughness borne of uncaring indifference.

Their days would blend into uniformity with the only highlights the addition of a new face. They’d also witness the decline of others, notice the empty chair or see a place at the table no longer set at meal times, and they’d wonder how long it would be before their space at the table became unoccupied.

Once they were in the car, O’Dowd pulled out the list of people they had to talk to. Each one had a connection with either Angus Keane or Arthuret Hall. The list had been compiled from conversations the Family Liaison Officer had had with Suzy and from things the Digital Forensics Unit had found on Angus’s laptop. As they drove away from Pine View, Beth vowed to herself that, when her time came, she’d have to find a way to make sure she didn’t end up in a place like that. It wasn’t so much God’s waiting room, as the outer circle of Dante’s hell.