YOU'RE DEAD: Three Gripping Murder Mystery Suspense Novels

by Diane M Dickson

  She really didn’t need this additional burden. With everything else that she had on her plate she bemoaned the thought of spending time every evening personally delivering the bedtime drink to Mrs Dennis and sitting with her to make sure that the cup was taken away afterwards and washed. Then there was the final drink which had to be delivered with care and perfect timing so that it all fitted into the natural deterioration of a sick person. Well, she just didn’t have time for it all just now.

  Heaving a huge sigh she made her way to the kitchen and told the night staff that as Mrs Dennis seemed to be rather unwell she would take the bedtime drink herself and sit with her for a while.

  The drink was prepared and then when the night staff took the cups off for the other patients, Phillipa added her own cocktail to Mrs Dennis’s. Normally this would be a few grains of morphine but she really didn’t have time for all this nonsense just now. She added the amount that she would normally have used over a period of about five nights. That would ensure that the patient entered a very, very deep sleep. It was just a matter of moving things along a little more quickly, and at the end of the day what was a day or two when the end must be so very close anyway?

  Chapter 17

  “It’s very kind of you to spend the time with me Matron. I don’t know if they told you but I’m afraid I have had an accident in the bed the last two nights. I am so embarrassed, so very sorry.”

  “Now then Mrs Dennis, don’t you upset yourself. Just have your drink and don’t worry about a thing. Everything is completely under control.”

  The feeble old lady leaned over the edge of the bed and grasped at Phillipa, “You’re so lovely, so lovely, truly an angel.” Patting the loose grey skin, Matron gently drew out her own hand and smiled down at the woman.

  “There we are dear drink it all quickly now, while it’s still warm and then lay back and relax.”

  With her mind whirling round all the other stuff it took a huge amount of self-control not to fidget, but training stood her in good stead and she sat patient and calm while the cup was drained. Taking it away she leaned down and brushed gently at the wispy white fringe.

  “I’m going to take this cup away now and then I’ll be right back to sit with you until you fall asleep.”

  “You are so kind Matron. I feel quite relaxed knowing that you are looking after me. Goodness I feel quite drowsy already.”

  “That’s it dear, just rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Hot water gushed into the cup along with a squirt of antiseptic and then she pushed it into the back of the big dishwasher. There must be no trace of the drug left, just in case.

  Phillipa peered at the little silver fob watch which was pinned to the front of her cape. Ten minutes, the old woman should be deeply asleep by now if not actually in a drug-induced coma.

  She squared her shoulders. First things first, she would just finish this little job with Mrs Dennis and then call one of the night nurses to witness the discovery of the poor old lady’s sad demise. The paperwork could wait until the morning when Doctor Price would rubber stamp the documents in the usual way and that would be that. No more nasty, smelly sheets in that lovely room.

  More importantly though, there was still Robert to deal with. He must be invited to her room and then she would see his reaction to the old photographs.

  Down the corridor she went, her step sure. There was such a lot to deal with but she was equal to the task, of course she was.

  Mrs Dennis was deeply unconscious, her mouth hung open and her slow breathing sent waves of sour breath into the air. Phillipa picked up the spare pillow, she crept very slowly to the bed and gently placed it over Mrs Dennis’ face. She leaned downward pushing firmly to expel as much air as possible.

  “What in the name of God do you think you are doing!?” Robert grabbed at her wrists and dragged the pillow aside. He knocked Phillipa flying and the chair clattered across the room leaving her in a disorganised heap in the corner.

  Chapter 18

  Robert leaned over the old woman, he shook her gently but there was no response. “Hello, hello. Can you hear me?”

  By this time Phillipa had regained her feet. She righted the chair, smoothed her rumpled clothes and straightened the white starched hat.

  “Leave her alone, she can’t hear you. You don’t understand, she is very ill, very old. Leave her alone. What are you doing in here anyway?” She clutched at his arm and pulled him back from the bed.

  “You were trying to suffocate her, you mad bitch.”

  “No, you misunderstand, I don’t know what you think you saw but I was just making her comfortable. Plumping up her pillows, it’s not good for her to lay too flat. Kill her, good God, how can you say that, I’m a nurse! Look, let me just check on her and then come out of here. We need to talk.”

  “I bloody well think we do need to talk. Don’t think I’m stupid, you evil cow. I know what I saw. Is she alright? She’s not moving or anything.”

  “No, of course she’s not alright. She’s a very old, very sick lady and is possibly not going to recover.” She took up the limp old wrist and felt for a pulse and then bent over and raised one eyelid after the other. She nodded and pulled the bedcovers closer to Mrs Dennis’ chin. “She’s deeply comatose. I am going to have a nurse sit with her tonight.” She didn’t mention the cause of the coma, well why would she?

  Ringing for a member of the staff to sit in the quiet room and watch the unconscious woman, she then led the way down to her flat with Robert close behind shaking his head.

  “Now, first of all let me reiterate that no matter what you think you saw it was all perfectly innocent and in fact I am appalled by your comments. Secondly, what on earth were you doing in that woman’s room?”

  “I saw you go in there and I wanted to talk to you and I can tell you now that I am still not convinced. From where I was it looked very much as though you were trying to suffocate that old biddy.”

  “Sit down, look, would you like a drink? I think I need a glass of something, whisky.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He sat on the settee, just where she wanted him. Close to the side of him there was a small table where Phillipa had placed the photographs from the attic in their frames. He couldn’t help but see them. She went into the kitchen to bring water. She opened and closed a couple of cupboard doors and rattled the crockery. Creeping to the slightly opened door she peeked through the gap to try to see just what her visitor was doing. Nothing much, just gazing around. She willed him to notice the photographs but he was too busy biting his nails. Ugh, she hated that. Look at the table you prat, stop chewing your bloody fingers and look at the photos, she tried to will him to see them.

  Knowing that she had spent as long as she reasonably could in the kitchen she made her way back to the sitting room carrying a small jug. Placing the whisky tumbler deliberately on the side table with a bit of clang she put the water alongside. “Help yourself, I wouldn’t want to drown it for you.”

  Robert turned in his seat and took up the jug. Surely he would see the pictures now. He seemed to glance at them but she couldn’t be sure. Was there a way to refer to the images innocently? Well if there was she certainly couldn’t think of it, but suddenly out of the blue he reached out a hand and lifted one of the frames.

  He peered at the small snapshot of a young Robert in his dinner suit. “Hmm, is this your brother?”

  She turned slowly and looked straight at him.

  Chapter 19

  “My brother, no that’s not my brother. That is a picture of Robert Bowling.”

  He froze. The glass in his hand remained steady though and his eyes still regarded the image in the little frame. “Ah.”

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “Hmmm, well I suppose not. Seems to me that we both have a bit of explaining to do. What do reckon eh, Matron? Tell you what, you go first, how many old ladies have you ‘made comfortable’ in this place?”

  “I told you, you misu
nderstood that situation entirely. What I think you should be more concerned about now is what the police would say if I were to draw their attention to the fact that you’re passing yourself off as someone else. What is this, have you stolen his identity, or maybe you’re the one who has something even more serious to hide? Do you know where Robert Bowling is? Have you ever met him, how do you know about him? You see there’s a lot of stuff that you should be explaining.”

  Just at that moment a quiet knock sounded on the door. “Yes.”

  “Matron, sorry to disturb. Nurse Patel sitting with Mrs Dennis has just telephoned the control desk. She is concerned for her patient.”

  “Right, I’ll be right along.”

  “Thank you Matron, sorry.” Robert stood and took a step forward.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you, if that old lady is in trouble I’m not letting you get near her on your own.”

  “I think we have just established that you have no rights to be doing anything except maybe packing to leave and hoping that I won’t call the police.”

  She marched from the room but rather than meekly obeying her orders he followed her up the stairs and down the dim hallway.

  “Nurse Patel, do you have a problem?” The nurse turned as they entered and straightened from her position stooped over the bed.

  “I think, Matron, that sadly this lady has passed.”

  “Passed, that is not a term we recognise here nurse. Are you telling me that you think this patient has died?” Get them on the defensive, less likely to ask any questions.

  “Oh sorry, yes sorry. I think that this patient is now dead.”

  Phillipa quickly took the few steps to the bedside. She felt for a pulse, on the wrist nothing, at the throat for the carotid, nothing. She shone her penlight into the old eyes. No reaction. “Yes nurse I believe you are correct. Did Mrs Dennis regain consciousness? Did she speak?”

  “No Matron, she drifted away in her sleep. I noticed that her breathing was very shallow and before I had a chance to call for anyone she became dead.”

  Phillipa suppressed a sigh at the muddled English. “Please let the staff know on the control desk. They must make the calls to the next of kin. I will call Dr Price myself.”

  She stood and turned to where Robert – as she still thought of him – stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Well, there you are. I told you she was very sick.”

  “I wonder.”

  “I have a lot to do now. A death requires certain actions. I’ve to call the doctor, there are forms to see to. The body has to be prepared in case the relatives wish to visit. I think we’ll have to postpone our drink and our conversation.”

  “Postpone, yes but don’t think this is the end of things. I am still not convinced about all this.”

  “Well for that matter you have a deal of explaining to do yourself or are you going to disappear in the night?” She hoped that maybe putting the thought into his mind would make him see that it would be the easiest way out, for both of them.

  He turned and walked off towards his own room.

  Chapter 20

  “Thank you so much Doctor Price, so kind of you to come so early.”

  “Not at all Matron. My pleasure, you are always so very well prepared and organised. Such a shame though, I did rather think that Mrs Dennis would make it home for a little while. Can’t be helped, can’t be helped.”

  Phillipa walked with the grey-haired man towards the entrance hall. Working with him at the hospital back in the day she had realised that he was totally devoid of imagination and therefore incapable of harbouring any sort of suspicion. Lazy and disillusioned after never reaching any heights at all in a lacklustre career he was marking time and trying to squirrel away funds for his retirement. He never asked awkward questions, simply taking the most perfunctory look at the various deceased patients before signing whatever paperwork was necessary.

  This last comment though had caused a little flutter of disquiet. Had she overstepped the mark? No, she was simply overwrought with all that had happened this week. Damn Robert or whatever his name was. She reminded herself that Mrs Dennis had in fact died while she and Robert had been in the flat so why was she worrying? Only she knew about the “tranquiliser” that she had administered.

  “Thank you again doctor I am so very grateful. If you just send in your invoice in the usual way. I did wonder if we should be looking at your billing terms you know, we haven’t changed them in the three years that you have been serving us here and things are so very much more expensive these days.” The little ploy worked, the old man beamed back at her. The misfortune of Mrs Dennis and the suddenness of her demise dispersed before the promise of higher fees.

  “Hello there, you’re the doctor aren’t you?”

  Phillipa’s heart truly missed a beat as her stomach clenched. “Doctor is in a hurry.”

  The old fool held out his hand. “Ah good morning, new patient are you? Doctor Price, don’t think we’ve met. Not one of mine anyway are you?”

  “No, that’s right. I’m new, been abroad and picked up a bit of a bug. Are you here about the poor old thing that died last night?”

  Phillipa’s well-scrubbed knuckles were white against the spotless blue paint of the front door. She had never felt so close to total panic. The loss of control dizzied her, her breathing was shallow and her grip on reality felt tenuous. Don’t, don’t, don’t. With enormous effort she spoke. “Now then Robert, I did say doctor is very busy, he’s just leaving and he can’t discuss his patients.”

  “Ah yes, quite right Matron, yes, must away. Bye now young man, I hope you get rid of your bug very quickly.”

  As the doctor fussed and fidgeted between them, patting at his pockets, searching out car keys, Robert and Phillipa were locked eye to eye. His gaze cold and hard and she battling to hide the panic. Was he going to speak out? No, not now, please don’t. Forcing her face into a bland and pleasant expression, desperately trying to control the pounding in her chest which was so frantic that it was painful, her mouth was arid. Don’t, don’t, don’t.

  “Poor thing I was speaking to her in the dining room only the day before yesterday.” Robert’s gaze never faltered.

  “Hmm, well as Matron said, can’t discuss patients and all that. These things happen, old lady, very sick.”

  Phillipa was gently propelling the old codger towards the steps, her hand under his elbow. “Bye now Doctor Price, do drop by for a drink some time, regards to Mrs Price.”

  Robert stepped forwards, “One moment doctor.”

  Phillipa groped deep into her resolve for calm as two pairs of eyes turned back towards the hallway.

  “I’ll be needing a medical man when I leave here, private of course. Do you have a card?”

  “Ah, ah yes. Don’t have one on me at the moment. Matron can fill you in on my details. Give me a call, delighted, yes very pleased. Thank you. Mmm.”

  Beaming at his continuing good luck, the doctor turned back to his negotiation of the front steps. Barely had he reached his car before Phillipa slammed the door, wheeling round to find Robert heading towards the door to her flat. He turned, grinned and raised his eyebrows before opening the door and then stepping aside to allow her in before him.

  Chapter 21

  Phillipa stormed into the sitting room and spun to face Robert as he closed the door. The air between them crackled with tension as each waited for the other to speak.

  “Okay, who’s going first?”

  Phillipa walked to the desk picking up the phone with an outside line. She would call his bluff.

  “Right, I am going to do what I should have done days ago when you first forced your way in here.”

  “I didn’t force my way in, you carried me in.”

  “Yes well, you were in the garden trespassing, breaking and entering.”

  “I didn’t break and enter, didn’t break into the house, you brought me in.”

  “You’r
e clutching at straws to put me off. You are masquerading as Robert Bowling, I don’t know who you are, where you’re from.”

  He flopped down onto the settee, his gaze never leaving her face. He gave a shrug. “Go on then, let’s have them, bring in the police. I think, Matron, that you have a lot of explaining to do yourself. Go on, get on with it.”

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you, damn it who are you anyway? I am not going to go on calling you Robert any longer, not going to feed your deceit.”

  “Fair enough I suppose. My name’s Giles.”

  “Giles what?”

  “Giles is enough for now I think, and to answer the next question yes, I did know Robert.”

  “Oh I don’t think so.”

  “How d’ya mean you don’t think so?”

  “Well you didn’t recognise him from the photographs did you?”

  “No, I didn’t. He didn’t look like that when I met him.”

  “Older, yes I’ll accept that but it’s not that long ago.”

  “It’s plenty long enough when your hair has fallen out because of chemo and you’re emaciated, skeletal really because of illness.”

  Phillipa flopped onto the chair. “Oh, I see. I, well, I’m sorry. How did you know him?”

  “We met in Africa, he was there working at a clinic, I was doing the same. We had a lot in common. He was sick, I brought him home.”

  “Well, I’m sure that must have been awful and everything but that doesn’t explain why you were here, why you pretended to be him?”