by Morgana Best
“We are a long way from Hollywood,” I said.
He snorted rudely. “I’m not saying they came here in person. They would simply pay someone to put a hit on him.”
I hadn’t considered that angle. This was not good. It brought up a whole new range of suspects I hadn’t even considered. “Who exactly in Hollywood would have a grudge against Henry?” I asked him.
“Do you want me to make you a list?”
“Yes.”
Darius cleared his throat. “I wasn’t serious. I couldn’t tell you any names, but Henry was a very nasty person. There would be a lot of people wanting to murder him, anyone who worked with him, actors, directors, you name it.”
“But there are plenty of irritating people in the world and they are not murdered for being irritating,” I said.
“Actually, Henry was probably more likely to murder one of the producers,” he said.
Now, I was really surprised. “What do you mean?”
“He was attached to a feature film, and he was sure there would be Oscar buzz about it. It was cancelled just before he came back to Australia.”
“But don’t movies get cancelled all the time? I thought that was commonplace.”
He shook his head. “Not at that advanced stage. I heard they cancelled it because he was sleeping with one of the producer’s wives. Come to think of it, it might have been all of the producers’ wives.”
“Did he threaten anyone?” I asked.
“It happened just before he flew back to Australia,” he said. “That’s probably why he put on a good act, pretending to care about his own nanny—to improve his image, you see. It was going to send him broke, actually. He had a gambling problem.”
Things were going from bad to worse. I threw up my hands in horror. “A gambling problem! Was he maybe in debt to the Russian mafia or anything like that?”
Darius pulled a face. “I don’t have a clue. I’m an entertainment reporter, not an investigative journalist.”
I bit my lip. What if Henry’s death had been a professional hit? Then the investigation was back to square one.
Chapter 20
After I showed Darius out, I was about to say something to Camino and Thyme, when Alder swept in. “I found the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”
“Where?” I asked him.
“He’s just out of town,” Alder said.
“Did you get my book back?” Camino asked.
“No, and that’s why I didn’t apprehend him,” Alder explained. “He was collecting items alongside the road, so I think he has a lair.”
“Like a bower bird?” Thyme asked.
Alder frowned. “Yes, something like that. I just came back here to tell you the news, and to make sure you’re all right, Amelia.”
“I’m fine. Why, did you think something would happen to me?”
“Of course, I’m worried something would happen to you. This is Halloween and you granted Marina the Halloween spell. It worries me every year.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m in the shop with Thyme and Camino. I’m perfectly safe.”
Alder looked doubtful, but said, “Don’t go home alone, will you?”
“I’m staying at your house, Alder,” Camino told him. “Have you forgotten?”
A black look covered Alder’s face. “No. Anyway, I’m going back to follow the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and find his lair. With any luck, I’ll have the book by the end of the day and we can reverse the spell.” With that, he slipped out of the shop.
“Oh, Alder,” I called after him, but he had already gone.
I turned to Thyme. “Can you and Camino watch the shop for a while without me? Do you think you’ll be all right? There are hardly any customers.”
“Sure. I doubt we will get many more customers considering everyone’s probably hung over after the Halloween Ball last night,” Thyme said. “I think it’s going to be quiet this morning. Where are you going?”
“Darius Dailey told me that Henry’s grandfather, Aurelius, accused Nancy of stealing jewellery from their mansion.”
Camino came out from behind the huge coffee machine. “You’re kidding!”
“Camino, I told you this only minutes earlier.”
“I’m still surprised.”
I nodded. “Darius said Henry was the one who accused her. He said he suspected Henry had stolen the jewellery to use for drugs or other nefarious means and blamed his nanny.”
Camino put her hands on her hips. “What an utterly despicable person.”
I readily agreed. “That means I need to go and question Nancy again. She could well be the murderer.”
“But she was in a coma at the time,” Camino protested.
“I need to ask the medical staff on her ward about that, before I come to any conclusions. Call me if it gets busy, and I’ll come straight back.”
I grabbed my handbag and hurried out the door. There weren’t many people on the street, so I figured the shop wouldn’t get busy. Like Thyme said, most people were probably hung over from the night before. I headed straight for the hospital.
When I reached the ward, I asked for the head nurse. It turned out to be a man named Jeff. I showed him my fake detective ID and asked if I could have a word with him.
He showed me into a little room, sparsely furnished with a small wooden table, around which were six chairs. The room was devoid of windows and was next to the nurses’ station.
“This is obviously about the murder?” he said.
“It is. Actually, I’m wondering if you could tell me about Nancy Newton’s condition. She was in a coma at the time of the murder, but I want to know if there is any chance she could have come out of the coma without anyone knowing.”
Jeff leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the table. “You know, it’s hard to say. There are no hard and fast rules with comas, and she was in a light coma. To put it in laypersons’ terms, she was really just in a heavy sleep. People in that state have often been known to wake up and ask for water, maybe drink two glasses, before slipping back into it. Her blood results were good, and she wasn’t even on oxygen. We had her on a glucose and saline drip, but that was all.”
“So, is it possible she could have woken up and…”
Jeff interrupted me. “Murdered the victim?”
I shrugged. “Yes, woken up and murdered him or even saw who the murderer was?”
Jeff leant back in his chair and wrapped his hands behind his neck. “It would be possible, I suppose. It’s quite possible that she woke up and saw who the murderer was, but as for committing the murder herself—that’s difficult to say. She had been in pain, but she was on painkillers. In fact, we had given her extra pain medication not long before the murder because we were about to turn her.”
I tried to process all the information. “The victim was murdered right by her bed, so she wouldn’t have had to get out of bed to stab him in the back, would she?”
“No, she wouldn’t, and I did see the body and it wouldn’t have taken a lot of strength. Not for someone who knew where to stab someone.”
“But Nancy was a nanny,” I said. “How would she know where to stab someone?”
“She was a nurse before she became a nanny,” Jeff said. “She told me that herself.”
“The victim was murdered with surgical scissors. How would she have procured those?”
“I have no idea, but they’re plentiful around here,” Jeff said. “Look, do you really consider her to be a suspect?”
“We have to treat everyone with suspicion in order to rule them out,” I said, parroting something I had seen on Father Brown the previous week. “I’d like to ask you some questions about comas. Did Nancy’s coma seem typical?”
Jeff shook his head. “It wasn’t a deep coma by any means, and as I said earlier, comas are not typical. Everyone is different.”
“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful. Can I see her now?”
“Of course. I’ll show you to her room.” He nodde
d and walked out the door.
I followed him, thinking things over. Could Nancy be the murderer? There weren’t many suspects, and she was in the right place at the right time. Maybe, she had been pretending to be in a coma to throw suspicion off herself.
“There you go.”
Jeff’s words snapped me out of my reverie. I walked into the room. Nancy looked surprised to see me. “You again, Detective. Why have you come back? Have you arrested the murderer?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’d like to ask you some more questions, if I may.”
Nancy pulled the sheet up to her chin. “It wasn’t me, I tell you!”
I tried to pull a nearby mustard-coloured chair closer to her bed, but it was too heavy to move. I saw a black metal and plastic chair on the other side of the room. I carried it over and set it close to her bed before sitting on it. “The victim was murdered here, right where I’m sitting now,” I said.
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Nancy said. “I was asleep at the time.”
“Our investigations have revealed the matter of the stolen jewellery from the Vanderbilt estate.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Nancy said, her tone defensive. “I was a good nanny to those children for many years, and that horrible Henry falsely accused me of theft. Henry never discovered that I knew he was the one who accused me, but Aurelius told me. Aurelius called the police, but they didn’t press charges.”
“And why was that?” I asked her.
A red flush travelled up her face. “Because it was obvious I didn’t do it! The police had apprehended Henry for possession of drugs on several previous occasions. I’m sure they realised he had stolen the jewellery. The police knew what he was like, but Aurelius always paid for fancy lawyers to get him off charges.”
“Surely then, Aurelius knew his grandson was lying?”
She shook her head. “No, Aurelius was tarred with the same brush. They were a thoroughly nasty family, all of them. Aurelius was an evil man and so were his grandsons.”
“Bernard as well as Henry?” I asked her. “I thought Bernard was the victim.”
“He was. I mean, Henry did push him off the bridge and ruin his back, and Bernard did have a bad back for ages. He needed several surgeries on his back. He loved sports before that, but he was left unable to play sports. Still, his back healed.”
“His back healed?” I repeated. “But he’s in a wheelchair now.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s faking it,” she said. “Henry showed Aurelius videos, and that’s why Aurelius cut Bernard out of the will. Aurelius was furious when he found out. Henry showed him videos of Bernard walking normally and running and doing everything like that. Aurelius used to go away on business trips, you see, and I was left with the boys when they were teenagers to manage their household.”
“Did you ever see Bernard running or walking without the aid of crutches?” I asked her.
“No, but I saw the videos too. I rebuked Henry for causing trouble for Bernard with his grandfather, but then Henry showed them to me. Bernard was climbing trees and having a generally good time.”
“Could the videos have been faked?” I asked her.
“I thought so, but I would be surprised if Aurelius didn’t have them expertly tested. I’m sure they were real videos.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I asked her. “You were all sweetness and light about Henry. You said he was a lovely boy.”
“I lied,” she said simply. “I knew if the police discovered what I really thought of him, then you would suspect me of his murder. After all, I had a motive, and he died in my room.”
“Yes, the evidence does stack up against you.”
“I didn’t do it,” she said. “It wasn’t me.”
I stood up. “Thanks for your help. I might have further questions at a later date.”
I walked out of her room, mulling everything over in my head. Who was the murderer? Nancy certainly had the motive.
Chapter 21
I hurried to the car, paid twenty-eight dollars for the parking fee, and muttered to myself as I hadn’t been there long at all. A rip-off! As soon as I was clear of the parking area, I called Alder.
“Where are you?” he asked. I was about to respond, when he added, “I’ve been following the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man on foot. He’s heading for the Vanderbilt estate. Can you drive there right now? I’m a long way from my car. He’s got the book.”
“He’s got the book?” I said in delight.
“Yes. I followed him to his lair, but I couldn’t catch him. He got away. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. He’s more afraid if anything, but don’t take any chances.”
“Sure.” I told Alder about Bernard’s possible fake injury. “So he might be the killer after all,” I concluded. I glanced down at my phone, but it was out of battery. I didn’t have the charger cord in my car, and I didn’t know how much, if anything, Alder had heard.
All I could do was head towards the Vanderbilt estate. I put the address into my GPS. I was pretty certain I knew the way, but I was flustered, and I tended to do strange things when I was flustered. I was also a little concerned about going to the Vanderbilt estate where Bernard lived, in case he was the murderer.
I drove through the front gates of the estate, casting my glance around for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but there was no sign of him.
I parked at the front of the house. Still no sign. I continued down to the back paddock towards the dam—or maybe it was the pond where Bernard had been injured all those years ago. My mind was racing ninety to the dozen. Bernard might be the killer. Still, it didn’t explain how he got in and out of the hospital with nobody seeing him.
The large pond, or small dam, whichever way you looked at it, was filled with lilies and blue-green algae. A pretty stone bridge stood to the left of it.
I crossed the bridge, navigating the rough flagstones, relieved I was not wearing my heels. Once on top of the bank, I could see the paddocks below and bushland behind them.
I did a double take. The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man was chasing someone. And Alder had told me he was not dangerous!
Still, I could see Camino’s book in his big white hand. I had to get that book of onesies, or the onesies would continue to cause trouble. Without thinking of my own safety, I ran down the hill towards the Stay Puft, hoping to cut him off. I had no idea what was in my mind. I only knew that I had to get my hands on that book. And what could a giant marshmallow do, anyway? Sit on me? I figured that was the worst that could happen.
A moment later, I got a clear look at the man running away from the Stay Puft. It was indeed Bernard. And he was certainly not in a wheelchair or on crutches. In fact, he seemed possessed of natural speed. So the videos hadn’t been faked, after all.
I reached the Stay Puft, who had still not spared me a second glance. I lunged for one marshmallow leg. The Stay Puft went down hard, and Bernard kept running without so much as a backward look. I grabbed the book and ran back in the direction of the mansion.
When I got to the top of the bank, I looked over my shoulder to see the Stay Puft rolling down the sloping paddock towards some eucalyptus trees. I sighed with relief but knew it was not the time to rest on my laurels. I was already exhausted from my running efforts. My throat was raw and my eyes streamed, but I pushed on. I reached the top of the bank and wasted no time running down the bank and across the little bridge.
All my energy was spent, so I slowed to a jog and forced one leg after the other. The sight of the mansion spurred me on. I jogged around the side of the house, unlocking my car door with my remote as I ran.
Still clutching the book, I scrambled into the car, locked the door, and leant back in the seat, sucking in oxygen. My legs were burning and my breath was coming in ragged gasps. There was still no sign of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but I was worried he would appear at any moment. I drove towards the front gates at speed, keeping an eye out for both the Stay Puft and Bernard.
I turned my attention back to the road just in time to see a figure on a bike directly in front of me. It was Kayleen, and she was reading an envelope.
To my horror, I clipped the back of her bicycle, sending her flying through the air at speed.
I gasped and slammed on the brakes, causing the car to spin. Envelopes flew onto my window, obscuring my vision. I jumped out of the car to see if Kayleen was all right.
All I could see were two stockinged feet topped by sensible shoes sticking out of a rhododendron bush.
I ran over to her, my heart in my mouth. “Kayleen, are you all right?”
The feet disappeared, to be replaced by Kayleen’s face. It was an awfully angry face. She pulled a rhododendron leaf from out of her ear before letting out a string of profanities and lunging for me.
I had second thoughts about handing her the bunch of envelopes I had snatched from my windscreen. I ran back to the car with the envelopes and tossed them in the car, before taking off at speed. Thankfully, the engine had been running.
I looked in my rear vision mirror to see Kayleen sprinting after the car on her bike. Who would have thought she could ride so fast? Maybe she should enter a triathlon. I slammed my foot on the accelerator.
One problem was solved. I had Camino’s book and could reverse the spell, but another problem remained. What if Bernard was the killer? What if he knew I was now aware he was not disabled and came after me?
I pressed my phone in an attempt to turn it on, but to no avail. The battery was flat. Never mind, Camino would be at my place, so I would call Alder from her phone. In fact, I would also call Ruprecht and the others to come over to brainstorm about the murderer. Meanwhile, I would reverse the spell.
As I drove home, I ran through the whole scenario. My suspects were Nancy, Steven, Angela, Darius, and Bernard. All had a motive. All but Bernard were known to be in the vicinity at the time of the murder, so all but Bernard had the opportunity. Bernard was guilty of pretending he was still suffering from his injuries, but that didn’t mean he was guilty of murder. Still, if someone did see an able-bodied Bernard at the hospital, they might not have recognised him. Visitors were permitted twenty-four hours a day at the hospital. Who knew what Bernard looked like? All the other suspects did, so if he did murder his brother, he would have worn a disguise.