Thursday cont. then Friday October 5
Dorothy had made rather a fuss when Jane Barker was
discovered nearly unconscious on her sofa, TV blaring, artificial electric fire
full on. That was in truth partly because she had recently rather neglected her
neighbour, who went on and on about ‘dear Jim’ although her husband had most of
the time been referred to as ‘that dratted man’ when he was alive.
The doctor wondered if the two drugs had fought it out in
Jane Barker’s body. But on her own account she had slept round the clock and
felt better. In fact, she had slept from late afternoon on Wednesday until she
was found on Thursday, and was surprised that anyone had missed her.
Dorothy hurriedly packed a few things into a bag for Jane
and accompanied her to the hospital because Dr Mitchell had recommended that
she get some tests done and stayed under observation just in case.
Jane insisted that her insomnia and resulting overdose of
sleeping pills was from missing Jim. Dorothy did not believe her and wondered
how she would take the news that her soup had poisoned about a dozen of the
chorus. She was bound to find out at the hospital.
***
It was not until after breakfast on Friday that Cleo was
able to discuss her phone call with Fay Colby the previous day, or even tell
Gary the astonishing news about Brass. Gary had walked all around the village
including the chip shop, where he bought enough to feed a regiment. The rest of
Thursday had been taken up with getting the family organized. Toni had finally been able to unpack and make
herself comfortable in Grit’s spare room, after a bedraggled little group of
strollers had returned in the pouring rain and had to be dried off and re-clothed.
Later, Gary called Nigel, who was still working in the
office, to hear of anything he should know about. He had drawn a blank except for
being told that the hospital was pleased with Jane Barker’s condition and she
could go home next day. Otherwise HQ was simply ticking over as they waited for
forensic findings.
Dorothy had phoned to say she had caught the first bus home
after accompanying Jane to the hospital, but had not been able to talk to her
properly because Jane had not let her get a word in edgeways.
“At least she’s OK, Dorothy. That’s more than you can say of
some of the other soup swallowers.”
“I’m sure she is innocent, Cleo. I don’t think she understands
what has happened.”
“Did Chris look around in the house?”
“Only briefly. But a thought has occurred to me: What if
Jane tried to take her life? She did not get on with Jim towards the end, but
she’s lost without him, and I don’t think she would ever admit it, even to
herself. She was unconscious from a large dose of sleeping pills, not from the
soup, which she had only nipped at because it tasted bitter, she said.”
“Maybe she left a note, Dorothy. Do you still have the house
key?”
“I do, as a matter of fact. I’m going to look after her
house plants until she comes home.”
“So you could check if Jane wrote a suicide note, couldn’t
you?”
“I suppose I could, but would that be right? Jane is still
alive, after all. I don’t want to pry and she may want to destroy that note.”
“I’d rather you saw it than the police,” said Cleo.
“You’re right. I’ll go now,” said Dorothy. “I’ll phone you back.”
***
Cleo mused that a suicide note might be convenient if it
took Jane completely off the list of suspects, though that argument did not
hold if she wanted to kill herself for attempting to kill the chorus members.
Cleo did not think that the silly woman was really under
suspicion, but unless proved otherwise, she would remain a suspect in the
poisoning of the chorus women for some time, however improbably that was.
A few minutes later Dorothy phoned back to say that she had
found nothing to suggest that Jane Barker intended to kill herself, but her
packet of sleeping pills was empty, so she had possibly not thought of writing
a note before swallowing them.
“She must be grieving for Jim, whatever she thought of him
when he was alive,” said Cleo.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” said Dorothy. “Jane has
made a great show of mourning for him, but she’s enjoying being free to do what she pleases. I doubt
whether suicide has ever occurred to Jane.”
“But we can’t take her off the suspect list yet, can we?”
said Cleo. “Just as a precaution, I mean, and because we have to explain how
that soup was poisoned, even if it was by accident.”
***
Getting up and breakfasting with a comparative stranger in
their midst was a whole new experience for the Hurley family, though Joe, who
had taken it upon himself to jog to the baker’s for fresh croissants in honour
of Toni’s arrival, was later to remark that the girl was infinitely preferable
to Sonia, his ex-girlfriend, who had paid him an uninvited visit a while ago
and been complimented back to South Africa, much to everyone’s relief.
Toni had been briefed by Grit the previous evening and was
proving a godsend even on her first day. They would have a community breakfast
at Hurleys.
After a totally chaotic hour or two with no one in charge of
anything, PeggySue was soon on the way to the nursery with Grit and accompanied
by Toni, who was wheeling the little twins for the outing. Cleo and Gary fed
Teddy and Tommy and drank the coffeepot empty several times. Charlie and Lottie
declared they were going to Cecilia’s house to watch a Barbie movie. All the
routines having been accomplished, and Gary, who was in no hurry to go to HQ, and
Cleo were glad to sit and talk while keeping a watchful eye on Teddy and Tommy,
who were now scrapping for a toy in the playpen. Cleo would take them shopping.
“You’re hiding something,” Gary said.
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re smiling to yourself a lot. Can I share the joke?”
“I’m a bit speechless actually.”
“I know about the baby,” said Gary. “So what is it?”
“If I were to tell you an unlikely story of someone we know
going to marry someone else we know quite out of the blue, would you find it
strange?”
“That really depends on who it is,” said Gary. “For instance,
if Robert Jones were to announce that he is going to marry Edith I would be
appalled.”
“But she’s entitled to a little happiness after all the
drama.”
“So is Robert, but not with her, surely.”
“No. Edith has different plans.”
“That’s a relief. I thought you were going to tell me that
Robert is tying some kind of knot with some kind of unlikely female again.”
“Meaning me?”
“You were an unlikely feather in Robert’s cap, my love.”
“I have never resembled a feather,” said Cleo. “I’m talking
about Edith Parsnip.“
“So Edith has set her sights on someone, has she? Not Brass,
surely!”
“Yes, Brass. The guy with surprising erotic talents that
satisfy even Edith.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Not in so many words.”
“I hope he’s up to the village vamp.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted to happen, Gary?”
“Are you seriously trying to break the news to me that Brass
and Edith are going to get spliced?”
“That’s what he said.”
“You must be joking. Edith is not mentally stable, and
neither is Brass if he decides to marry the woman.”
“Brass thanked me for getting them together by getting you
to send him to her the other night.”
“But that’s only three days ago.”
“Love at first sight. How long did it take you to decide I
was the right woman for you?”
“About three seconds…”
“Well there you are then.”
“I suppose it’s a good idea if it makes them both happy, but
it doesn’t solve any of the crimes we have on our list.”
“You are changing the subject, Gary.”
“And you are avoiding it!”
“And you are in denial on all counts. Apart from that tramp,
it’s possible that all the others were victims of accidental poisoning or
banged their heads on a rock.”
“We don’t even know how many of the women will survive,
Cleo. The hospital is being very reticent and some are quite ill.”
“Maybe the medics are waiting for you to ask.”
“Then I’d better do so. Pass me the phone, there’s a love.
You are nearer.”
***
“Chief Inspector Hurley here. Can you put me through to
someone who knows what happened to the dozen or so women brought in with food poisoning?”
“I suppose you mean Intensive,” was the reply.
“If that’s where they are, yes.”
“I’ll put you through.”
***
Gary was forced to listen to five minutes of supermarket
jingle before someone had time to answer his call to the ward.
“Two dead,” the ward sister told him.
“I did not actually ask that, but did I hear you say that two
are dead? Why were the police not informed?”
“All in good time. It only happened during the night. The
survivors have only just had breakfast.”
“I’ll send a forensic team and a detective. I need an exact
report of how, when and why those women died,” said Gary.
“All right. Just calm down. Shouting won’t get you
anywhere,” said the sister. “I’ve only just finished the breakfast round.”
“I’m sorry, Nurse. It’s just that we may have murder cases
on our hands.”
“Listen, Sir. One died of heart trouble. The food poisoning
just gave her the push. The other one got a pillow over her face. I admit that
it could be suspicious.”
“Do you mean she was smothered?”
“Probably by accident. It does happen, Sir.”
“Wasn’t someone on duty?”
“Yes Sir, but we are short staffed at night and Mrs Crown
phoned in sick and then came in late after all.”
“I’ll be over myself in an hour. I want to talk to a doctor
who can tell me what is on the death certificates.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Can you give me the names of the nurses on duty overnight?”
“Only one, Sir. As I said before, Nurse Crown.”
“Your Crowning glory, then,” said Gary as he rang off.
***
“That was not necessary,” said Cleo, who had been listening
in. “You confused the poor woman.”
“She’s not as confused as I am. One night nurse and two dead
under suspicious circumstances. Some hospital!”
“All the more reason not to be enigmatic, Sweetheart.”
“If one of those chorus women was smothered and one fell out
of bed with a heart attack, I wonder how many are going to survive their
misadventure,” said Gary.
“The plot thickens,” said Cleo. “All the more reason to find
out what happened to Margie that night before she was found among the
marigolds. There could be a connection.”
“I’d almost forgotten about her. But she was not poisoned
Cleo.”
“The deaths might not be connected, of course unless the
killer saw that Margie was not eating any soup and decided to use other means
of getting rid of her.”
“But they could be, couldn’t they? You just said so,” said
Gary. “Wouldn’t that make Babsi the killer? Isn’t she the woman who went out
with Margie after they’d been arguing during the rehearsal?”
“You’ll have to find that out, Gary. One thing is certain: Killing
off the Finch Nightingales is becoming someone’s mission in life.”
“That chorus always was a wasps’ nest,” said Gary. “I
thought it was because they disliked Laura Finch and wanted to be rid of her,
but there’s obviously more to it than that.”
“Talk to Robert again. Maybe he forgot to tell you
something.”
“You talk to him, Cleo. I’ll go to the hospital when I’ve
asked Chris to meet me there.”
“You could talk to Jane Barker while you’re there. Tell her
how glad you are that she is recovering.”
“I might just do that.”
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