by Sam Speed
'Make sure you don't. By the way, he has an alibi for Yvette's murder. Anne asked me to help him watch the shop when she's at classes. That first night I spent hours talking him into coming down to the shop to help me out. He couldn't have been near the hall.'
'Isn't that handy,' I said, 'it gives you an alibi as well.'
And with that parting shot, I walked away, leaving her speechless for, I expect, the first time in her life.
I managed to get a couple of hours sleep then Jean popped around after her work. I told her about being accosted by Sophie.
'Let me make a note of that,' she said.
'So, where are we? We've ruled out quite a few suspects.'
'Yes,' she said reading from her notes, 'we've ruled out Lorna, George, Anne and now Sophie. How did you get on with Suzy last night?'
I frowned. I wanted to tell Jean the whole sordid story but I couldn't betray Suzy.
'I can't say,' I said, 'except we can't rule her out, but we should give her space for now.'
Jean had the most attractive vertical lines above her nose when she tried to work things out. She wasn't happy about having to back off from a suspect. But she had enough experience with patients to know there were times when we all had to respect their privacy. I took her hand and squeezed it in gratitude.
'I'll have to get ready for work soon,' I said sucking her finger.
'How soon is soon?' she said, putting her other arm around my waist.
'Not too soon,' I said as we collapsed onto the sofa together.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Snowball give us a scathing look that seemed to say 'Not again. 'Then she took refuge on top of my laptop.
We were unusually quiet at work, but with several dementia patients to look after, I felt exhausted when I got home.
I called the bold detective to check up on Dawn and was pleased to hear the bleeding seemed to have stopped. I didn't say that she was so early on, she might already have suffered a miscarriage and not even realised. There would be time enough to mention that in a few weeks when we could test again to make sure she was still pregnant. She would find out soon enough if she'd lost her baby.
Snowball decided she was staying out. I called Betty to ask her to keep an eye and ear out for my little feline and went straight to bed. I'd bought a cream doughnut on the way home, at the baker in town. It was fresh not the mass produced, stodgy ones that Anne sold and I looked forward to having it when I woke up. It was raining so that would keep the lawnmower brigade in their houses. They insisted on cutting their grass one after the other. I suppose when one heard the other he would decide it was a good idea but as a result, the noise kept going all day.
Refreshed and replenished later that day, I decided someone had to speak to Sheila's husband. There was enough injustice in the world without him thinking he could get away with what he had done to Suzy. She might not decide to have him prosecuted. I couldn't blame her if she didn't. The law was not on the side of the victim. But at least I could make him aware that people knew and let him worry about what was going to happen.
Lisa Goes to Church
The streets were quiet as I headed toward the manse. I guessed people were either still at their work or vegetating in front of daytime TV.
The Nu Faran church sat beside the manse in the same grounds. It was built long before the rest of Nu Faran was a gleam in its designer's eye. The building was ridiculously impressive for a small area, a remnant from the Neo-Gothic revival in the 19th century. Despite low numbers, the congregation of a few hundred managed to keep the church going. Whenever possible they did any maintenance of the buildings themselves. I could always tell when it was changing ministers because there would be a procession of the faithful covered in paint.
At the manse, the minister opened the door himself. Obviously, Sheila wasn't at home.
'Lisa,' he said, 'how nice to see you. Do come in. Sit down. Are you here to see Sheila? She's out, but she won't be long. Or is there something I can help you with?'
The smarmy git. If I hadn't heard Suzy's story, he'd have seemed like a benign old gentleman. That is until he walked behind my chair and started massaging the back of my neck.
'You seem very tense,' he said, 'you should learn to relax and enjoy yourself more.'
I was about to tell him where to put his hands when I remembered Sheila saying that Yvette had been spending quite a bit of time with the minister. I presumed he hadn't raped her or she wouldn't have kept going back. And she might not have needed IVF since he seemed to be fertile enough. Still, he might have information about what Yvette was up to. Anything she told him would be in confidence, wouldn't it? Or could she have been blackmailing him? We'd never even considered him a suspect. I would see what he knew about Yvette before I threatened him about Suzy.
I sat forward on the seat and turned around so he could no longer touch my back. His hands hovered over my breasts and I could see temptation in his face. But then he put his hands down and sat down opposite me putting on his benevolent minister face.
'I'm here on behalf of Yvette's cousins,' I lied. 'They are aware that you were helping her with the trying time since she became pregnant and wanted to thank you.'
I watched his face for a flicker of emotion or even interest, but he'd have made a fortune at poker.
'I was happy to help Yvette in any way I could,' he said, 'but she wasn't stressed about the baby. Quite the opposite.'
'I know about the IVF,' I said. No way was I going to let him think he knew more than me.
'She told you about that?' This time, he couldn't keep a note of surprise from his voice and his eyebrows rose in unison with it. 'Then you'll also know about her wanting to join the church so she could have her baby christened.'
It was my turn to try and contain my surprise. Who would have thought Yvette with her anti-religious rhetoric would ever have caved in and swallowed her principles for the sake of a baby? It seemed Dawn was not the only one whose pregnancy hormones changed her character.
I was about to challenge him about what he did to Suzy when I heard Sheila coming in the door. Instead, I got up and leaned over him, ignoring the foul breath from his open mouth. As he fixed his eyes on my breasts, I hissed in his ear, 'I know what you did to Suzy and you are not going to get away with it.'
His eyes widened and he shrank back from me.
I straightened up as Sheila came in the door.
'Ah, Lisa. I am so glad you're here,' she said as though it was the most natural thing in the world for an avowed atheist to be talking to her husband. 'Do come into the church and see the tribute I've organised for Yvette and Christine.'
Why on earth she thought I was interested in seeing her tribute, I had no idea. I didn't get a chance to refuse because she pulled me along behind her.
Inside the church, there was a small table set out with pictures of Christine and Yvette. It wasn't very impressive, but then they weren't church members so why should it be.
Sheila spoke from behind me.
'You are as bad as that nosy friend of yours, sniffing around my bike.'
I turned around and found her holding a heavy metal vase over me. I had no doubt it could do quite a bit of damage to my head. Gone was her trademark gentle smile. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pulled into an ooh of disapproval.
With a start, I put things together. The bicycle spoke from Sheila's bike. I knew about the murder method because of my time in Africa and Sheila lived there too. And Sheila was not at class when Jean was attacked. I would have been wise to keep quiet, but I've never had much sense.
'You said you'd found her there. What are you trying to tell me? That you attacked Jean?'
Perhaps I wouldn't mention the murders. Not just yet.
'What? No of course not. As if I could attack anyone. I meant she was round at my bike when she got attacked.'
She put the vase down between the photos and filled it with water from a jug.
'All I meant was tha
t if you two keep sticking your noses in, it's no wonder you get hurt.'
I took a gasp of air. How long had I been holding my breath?
'You think I didn't hear what you said to David?' she went on.
'You know what he did?'
'Oh, that. Suzy deserved everything she got, like the others. What does she expect running about in a skimpy skirt and cropped top in front of David? He may be a minister but he's also a man. I can't blame him for a moment of weakness.'
'A moment of weakness! He raped her. What do you mean the others? Has he done this before?'
What a stupid question. Of course, he had, it wasn't a hobby he would take up at his age.
'Is that what she told you?' said Sheila. 'How ridiculous is that? He's a man of the cloth. He wouldn't rape anyone no matter what they say. But it wouldn't be the first time one of those scantily dressed girls threw themselves at him. I can't blame David for looking elsewhere now I'm old and ugly and can't even bear him a child.'
She pulled her sleeve down to her wrist, but not before I'd seen the bruises on her arm.
'He hits you, doesn't he?' I said.
Sheila lowered her eyes.
'Only when I deserve it,' she said.
'No-one deserves abuse.'
'You don't understand.'
'Then tell me.'
'I'm no use to him anymore. I lost the only child I ever conceived. Now I'm too old to be a mother. He wants a child so much. If these young girls throw themselves at him and one of them gets pregnant how can I blame him?'
'You're not stupid Sheila. You must realise the girls would not throw themselves at an old man like David. Who else has he raped? How many are we talking about?'
'I told you he only gives them what they want. He is a wonderful lover. He started trying to be a father when we were at the mission in Africa. I... fell and lost the baby, and then they said there was damage and I'd never have another. That's when he started trying to find someone to carry a child for us. I don't know how many.'
'Fell? Did you lose your baby because of his abuse?'
Sheila drew herself up. Her moment of weakness was over.
'Of course not. You're talking about a minister here. As if he could abuse anyone. He may have the weakness of all men when young girls flaunt their femininity in front of him. But who would you believe - a girl who wears provocative clothes and flaunts their body - or a man of God?'
'I would believe a young woman who was hysterical telling me about how your husband attacked her. I would believe a woman who hides her bruises if she would tell me the truth.'
'You think you know everything, but you don't. How can you ever know what it's like between a man and a woman? I've seen the way you carry on with that paramedic. I should take you to David. He'll show you what it's like to be with a real man.'
She grasped my wrist with amazing strength and started to pull me towards the church door. She wasn't serious, was she? Could Sheila be providing women for her husband to rape? This couldn't be happening. But it made sense. If Sheila was involved she would make sure David was alone with the women for as long as he needed.
What Sheila didn't reckon on was the desperation of a woman who has been there once and has no intention of letting it happen again. I waited until we were outside the church door and then pretended to faint. My weight dragged my wrist out of Sheila's grasp and I leapt up and sprinted for the street. I nearly made it, but as I passed the front of the manse, David appeared in front of me and blocked my way.
'Going somewhere?' he said. 'You seem to be in a hurry.' He grabbed a hold of my shoulders. 'Sheila and I are worried about you, Lisa. You must come into the manse and tell me what's troubling you.'
I'd struggled to get away from Sheila, but a woman doesn't have the same sensitive spots as a man. Now I put my self-defence classes to good use and kneed David's sensitive bits. As he doubled over, I heard a satisfying crunch as his head hit the wall of the manse.
But before I could get away, Sheila grabbed my wrist again, her face contorted with rage.
'How dare you,' she said, 'how very dare you.'
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I burst out laughing. What a ludicrous thing to say. It didn't even make sense. No doubt it came from one of those comedy characters. I'll bet the writer never imagined that anyone would be stupid enough to say it in real life.
And Sheila hadn't seen who was coming up the driveway towards us. I had never thought I would be glad to see Detective Mike, but I was. Wendy walked behind him watching.
'What's going on here?' said Mike.
For a moment Sheila looked terrified then she smiled at him.
'Oh, it's nothing. David and I were concerned about how unhappy Lisa has been recently and were trying to help her.'
I was about to tell the detective what was really going on when I saw the way he looked at each of us. Sheila was right. Who would he believe? A minister and his seemingly saint-like wife or someone he would be happy to throw in jail? The world was unjust and the police were the most perverse of all. I looked at Wendy. She frowned and her eyes narrowed as she watched the minister. Well, maybe not all the police. But I was not stupid enough to expect Mike to believe me. I would talk to Wendy when I could get her on my own. But the legal system was not in the victim's favour. It's why all those media stars got away with it for years.
'Are you sure you don't want to make a complaint?' said Detective Mike hopefully, as he watched the blood pour from David's head.
'No, I'm fine thank you. It was a misunderstanding.'
Evidently, he wasn't prepared to risk what might come out if the police decided to investigate.
Wendy touched my arm with her soft hand and smiled at me as I walked past them.
As I left, I heard Mike say, 'We'd like to see the bicycle involved in Christine Murray's accident.'
About time he thought of that.
And about time I thought about getting ready for work. A night shift that was going to change my life.
Christine Supplies the Answer
I usually don't mind doing night shift, although it depends on the ward. On a quiet night, we could take it in turns to actually have our break while our partner would keep an eye on the patients. Not that night. I had settled the patients and was ready for a cuppa when the phone went. It was Betty from the Trauma Ward.
'Hi, Lisa. The police have at last finished with the room Christine was in. We've been struggling without it. You know what it's like. I'm clearing it out tonight to get it back in use. You're down as next of kin, so I wondered if you wanted to take her stuff now.'
Next of kin. For a moment I couldn't get my head around that. Why would she? Not having a next of kin can cause all sorts of problems, so the staff would have pestered her for a name. I suppose she picked me because I had been visiting. Or perhaps because I was in charge of her babies, also known as plants. It is not like she ever saw her cousins.
Then it sank in what Betty had said.
'Christine's things? What things?'
'The stuff in the locker. For some reason, the police took everything except that.'
I felt like one of Dawn's light bulbs had come on over my head. The lockers in the single rooms blended into the walls and were not obvious unless you knew where to look. Usually we had to show new patients where the locker was. The police hadn't spotted it and worse had never even thought to ask where Yvette's clothes were. Their loss, my potential gain.
'What did she have in the locker?' I asked with my fingers crossed.
'Some clothes and a briefcase.'
'I'll be down as soon as I can,' I said, trying to sound calm.
I checked with Shona my partner in crime for the evening. Since the natives did not appear to be restless, she didn't mind me taking my tea break to pop downstairs for a short time.
Down in the Trauma Ward Betty was enjoying a well-earned cup of tea after cleaning the room. She handed me a plastic bag with Christine's possessions.
; 'Thanks,' I said, 'I'll put this stuff in her house. That'll save any bother trying to find out who it should go to.'
I still had her key since it had slipped my mind to tell Detective Mike about it. I had a twinge of guilt at the thought of her poor plants. I hadn't been near them since she died. Probably best they die with her. A fitting tribute.
Back in the ward, I emptied the bag.
Christine's clothes were the ones she had been wearing when she had her accident. They were ripped so no point in passing them on to Tony at the charity shop. I decided to give them to Wendy. If she'd been responsible for the search at the hospital, she could dump them in the bin and no-one would know. It's not like they had any relevance to Christine's murder. If she hadn't been involved, she might want to use the oversight to get someone else into trouble, preferably Detective Mike.
The briefcase was very inviting. I would wait until Shona was taking a break and then have a wee nosy. However, the natives had other thoughts. Shortly after I got back to the ward, Mr McPherson started shouting for attention. By the time I got to him, he'd woken all the other patients. It took us both the rest of the night to calm them down. They were all sleeping like babies when it was time to wake them in the morning. We left a subdued ward of patients for our daytime relief.
I was keen to check out the briefcase but I was shattered after a busy night. Jean was on early shift so we agreed that I should go home and get some sleep. She would come around after work and we could do the grand opening together.
I dumped the briefcase on my floor. I was so tempted to open it and have a peek, but I'd promised Jean. Then Snowball settled the internal debate by settling down on top of the briefcase. There was no way I could open it now. So, after a cuppa, I went to bed.
I was in the middle of a lovely dream where Mike was in a stockade and I was pelting him with rotten tomatoes when Jean shook me awake.
'I'm sorry,' she said, 'I had to wake you. There's something wrong with Snowball.'
I leapt out of bed and rushed through to the living room.