The Recovery Assignment. Alison Roberts
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siren was activated as soon as it cleared the cordoned-off area. The noise was deafening for a moment and Hawk frowned.
‘What’s with the siren? That’s not usual procedure for a return trip, is it?’
‘It’s a status-one patient. Post-arrest.’ Charlotte told him. ‘They need to get him to hospital as quickly as possible.’
‘Is he going to survive?’
‘I hope so,’ Charlotte said quietly. ‘His rhythm looked good and he was breathing spontaneously by the time he was loaded. We found his driver’s licence,’ she added. ‘His name is Duncan Thomson. He’s only forty-four.’
Only eight years older than Hawk. Suddenly the incident became more than a job. More than a scene of a traffic snarl-up and a major inconvenience for a large number of people trying to get to work. The strength of his own hope that the man would survive took Hawk by surprise. He didn’t get emotionally involved with the victims of serious crashes. Never had. You couldn’t afford to if you wanted to stay in this line of business for any length of time. Had the fact that he’d been more aware of what the paramedics were doing made the difference? If so, it could be another black mark to chalk up against having to work with Charlotte Laing.
Charlotte watched Hawk as he turned abruptly and strode towards the wreck. Her eyebrows rose as he walked straight past the man in the pinstripe suit, who was standing with a junior police officer. The witness still looked pale and shaken but he was clearly pulling himself together. Charlotte saw him look at his watch and then point to a sedan parked on the road’s shoulder some distance uphill. Clearly, he wanted to leave the scene. Pulling a small notebook and pen from the pocket of her shirt, Charlotte also picked up a can of spray paint from the crate in the back of the squad car and moved purposefully.
‘I’m Charlotte Laing,’ she introduced herself to the witness, ‘from the Serious Crash Squad. Thanks so much for waiting so long. Can you spare another minute or two to answer some questions for me?’
‘Sure…I guess.’ The man looked at his watch again. ‘But I’m running awfully late for work.’
‘It won’t take long,’ Charlotte promised. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Andrew Duggan.’
‘You did a great job, here, Andrew. It was you who made the triple-one call, wasn’t it?’
The man nodded.
‘And you started CPR?’
He nodded again. ‘I did a first-aid course at work only last month.’ His voice shook. ‘I never thought I’d have to do it for real, though.’
‘Pretty scary, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’ Andrew rubbed a hand over his mouth as though reliving the mouth-to-mouth breathing. ‘I’m going to carry one of those mask things from now on. Is he going to be all right, do you think?’
‘He’s very sick,’ Charlotte responded seriously. ‘But your actions gave him the best possible chance. He would definitely have died before anyone else got here if you hadn’t started the CPR.’
‘It took so long. By the time I realised there was something really wrong with him and called for an ambulance and found someone to help me get him out of the car…it seemed to take forever. And his face was all blue and…and…’
‘I know.’ Charlotte touched the man’s arm in a sympathetic gesture. ‘It’s not nice. It sounds as though he might have collapsed even before the accident happened so there was nothing anyone could have done to help any earlier. You said you saw him slumped over the wheel?’
‘Yes. I was in the inside lane.’ Andrew pointed uphill. ‘There was a car behind me in the middle lane and it was him leaning on his horn that made me notice the other car cutting in.’
‘What speed were you doing, do you know?’
‘Seventy-five, maybe 80 kph. The guy behind me slowed and I hit my brakes but I didn’t need to. By the time he got into my lane he was going pretty fast. I thought he was just changing lanes. It wasn’t until he kept going off the side of the road that I realised something was wrong. He hit the lamppost without even slowing down at all.’
‘Can you show me where you were when you started braking?’ Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see Hawk’s long frame bent over as he sprayed marks around the wrecked car’s tyres. A tow truck was backing towards him. She continued making notes as she walked uphill with their witness.
One lane of traffic was now moving but Charlotte could identify tyre marks on the inside lane consistent with Andrew’s braking manoeuvre. She also found marks in the middle lane that fitted the trajectory of an out-of-control vehicle that had ended its journey at the lamppost. She marked the areas with her can of bright orange spray paint.
Ten minutes later Charlotte had collected all the information she felt was needed from the witness.
‘Thanks again,’ she told Andrew as he waited to drive from the cordoned-off area into the line of still slowly moving traffic. ‘You’ve been a great help. Are you sure you feel OK to go to work?’
Andrew nodded. ‘I feel a lot better now.’ He smiled at Charlotte. ‘If I did do what you say a paramedic would have done under the same circumstances then maybe I should think about changing jobs.’
‘I’d stick to supermarket managing if I were you.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘Less stressful.’
‘You’ll call me, then? If you need to know anything else?’ He smiled again as Charlotte nodded. ‘You could call me anyway,’ he suggested, ‘if you fancy a drink or something after work.’
‘They’re holding up the traffic for you.’ Charlotte waved Andrew away. ‘Take care, now.’ She turned, startled to find Hawk standing right behind her.
‘I was about to interview that guy.’
‘I’ve done that.’ Charlotte held up her notebook. ‘I think I’ve got everything we need.’
‘Including his phone number?’
‘Of course.’ Charlotte didn’t like the undertone. It was normal procedure in any witness interview. If Hawk thought she’d be following up any hint that the witness was interested in social communication, then she was quite prepared to give him a piece of her mind regardless of their situation.
Somewhat annoyingly, Hawk said nothing. He wasn’t even looking at Charlotte as his eyes focussed well past her shoulder. ‘What have you been marking?’
‘Tyre marks. There’s what looks like an acceleration scuff at the start of the yaw. I assume the car’s got automatic transmission?’
Hawk raised a single eyebrow. ‘Why do you assume that?’
‘It fits,’ Charlotte said calmly. ‘If the driver collapsed he could have had his foot depressing both the brake and the accelerator. It would explain the mark and why his car’s speed kept increasing. Being slumped onto the steering-wheel might also explain why the car travelled in a line that took him across two lanes of traffic and straight into a lamppost.’
Hawk’s gaze suggested he was less than impressed with Charlotte’s line of reasoning. She raised an eyebrow right back at him. ‘Do you have a problem with that scenario?’
‘I have a problem with someone making a decision on the cause of a fatal crash before an investigation is complete.’
Charlotte raised her chin. ‘Then let’s get on with completing it, shall we?’ She reached into the back of the squad car to remove one of the larger pieces of equipment but Hawk’s movement was swifter.
‘Here, I’ll get that for you.’
Charlotte’s glance was measured very deliberately. ‘Thank you,’ she said coolly, ‘but I’m actually quite capable of lifting a theodolite all by myself.’