Unnatural Wastage

by Betty Rowlands

  ‘But we are talking about the death of Jennifer Freeman, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, I can tell you that.’ Wearily, Sukey finished her frugal meal and went back to her wine. ‘It’ll be official in the morning. Both the Seatons have been arrested, charged in connection with her death and released on bail.’

  ‘What are the charges? Attempted murder by quinine?’

  ‘That’s all I’m telling you for now,’ said Sukey firmly. ‘I don’t suppose it triggered any helpful suggestions, by the way?’

  He thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘Nothing comes to mind, but I do have one further question,’ he said. ‘What about the anonymous phone call that was mentioned at the inquest? Presumably it was Seaton who made it?’

  ‘He denies it very firmly and we’re both inclined to believe him. We’re working on the possibility that it was another male employee at Holmwood. We saw a man working in the garden and there might be a handyman as well; that’s something we have to look into.’

  She emptied her glass and he held out a hand. ‘Another?’

  ‘No thanks.’ She put down the glass and suddenly and ­inexplicably burst into tears.

  He was at her side in a moment, holding her close and gently stroking her head while for a few minutes she sobbed her heart out. When she finally calmed down she groped in her pocket for a tissue, but he was ready with a clean white handkerchief and waited patiently while she mopped away the tears. ‘Want to talk about it?’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s not a pretty story – in fact it’s typical of some of the cases the tabloids enjoy picking over,’ she said huskily. ‘It would be a relief to tell you about it, but I think I’d like a coffee. My throat’s pretty dry.’

  ‘That’s hardly surprising. I’ll make the coffee and we’ll have it in the sitting room. You go and sit down and I’ll bring it in.’

  ‘I’d rather stay here with you.’ For the moment he had become her link to normality and she had a sudden crazy fear of letting him out of her sight.

  ‘Whatever you say.’ He got up and filled the kettle. When they were settled in armchairs they sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he said, ‘Before you say anything, I give you my solemn promise that what you tell me is not for publication without your express permission, OK?’

  ‘OK. Thanks for that.’ She put down her cup, reached out and took his hand. ‘Like I said, there’s nothing particularly unusual about the Seatons’ story; in fact it’s a classic case of an older and, to be honest, not particularly attractive woman who’d more or less given up hope of love and marriage being swept off her feet by a sexy man who pretended to be in love with her so he could get his hands on her money. It was listening to her desperate outpouring of mingled guilt and humiliation that I found so distressing.’

  ‘Why did you have to listen to it? Aren’t there – what d’you call them? – family liaison officers who specialize in that kind of thing?’

  ‘There are, and one will be assigned to them but there was no one available immediately. Her solicitor applied for bail for the two of them and stayed with them while they were waiting for a decision. He suddenly asked to speak to DS Rathbone to say Carla Seaton had begged for a private word with me. Why she asked for me particularly I’ve no idea.’

  ‘She obviously thought you’d be more likely to understand than Rathbone.’

  ‘I guess so. I don’t think I was feeling particularly ­understanding at the time but I could hardly refuse. She was obviously in a highly emotional state after being charged and said she wanted to explain what drove her to put the quinine in Jennifer’s drink. She swore she never meant to kill her. At one point she seemed on the point of collapse and a doctor was called. He wrote a prescription for a sedative but he thought it would help her if she first had a chance to get it off her chest.’

  ‘So you got lumbered?’

  She gave a wan smile. ‘You could put it like that.’ She took a deep breath, fearing for a moment that more tears would come, but she fought them back. ‘In this job we inevitably come up against some pretty distraught individuals, but I’ve never seen anyone so upset as Carla Seaton. Somehow it really got to me.’ Her voice wavered and she broke off for a moment to steady herself. ‘The background to the story is very simple,’ she went on. ‘Carla and her father, who was a doctor, owned and ran Holmwood for a number of years. There was money in the family and they invested quite heavily to bring it up to a very high level of care and accommodation so there was always a waiting list. The father died unexpectedly of a heart attack at a comparatively young age and Carla inherited the business. She had done nursing training so she carried on single handed with the help of an old friend, also a doctor. It seems she offered him a share of the business but for some reason he declined. Then along came Brian Seaton, son of one of the residents – who died long ago, by the way – who’d offered Carla a sympathetic ear when she was not only grieving for her father but struggling to run the business side of Holmwood. He became her right-hand man and she became increasingly dependent on him. Then one day, out of the blue, he declared himself passionately in love with her and asked her to marry him. She fell for it hook, line and sinker; before long she had put control of all the finances in his hands.’

  ‘Are you saying he’d been squandering it? Is Holmwood in financial trouble?’

  ‘It seems not. I understand his father spent all his savings on the fees at Holmwood and he found himself on his uppers after paying for the funeral. He saw the chance of landing a cushy job with money to spend on whatever woman took his fancy, but to be fair to him he’s only been spending peanuts pursuing his . . . hobby, you might call it.’

  ‘He sounds a nasty bit of work just the same,’ Harry commented. ‘So how long before the cracks began to show?’

  ‘Not long, according to Carla. He became less and less attentive and she began to notice his “wandering eye” as she put it.’ Sukey drained her coffee and held out her mug. ‘Any chance of a refill?’

  ‘Sure.’ He brought it and sat down again. ‘You’re right, it’s a pretty classic story,’ he agreed, ‘but I’m not sure I understand why you should feel so distressed.’

  ‘You might if you’d been there. Carla was distraught, almost beating her chest and sobbing things like, “He couldn’t help the way he was . . . and I forgave him . . . I’d have gone on forgiving him forever if only he’d loved me just a little.” It was pitiful . . . it went straight to my heart and it was all I could do not break down and weep with her. It was a relief when the news they’d been granted bail came through and they were sent home.’

  There was a silence while she drank her second cup of coffee. He took the empty cup from her and then gently squeezed her hand. ‘Well, at least you don’t need to worry about my intentions,’ he said, keeping his tone light.

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘If you’ve got a fortune stashed away I’m not aware of it, so you can be sure I’m sincere when I tell you I love you. And I hope –’ he cupped her face with his free hand and turned it towards him – ‘that’s true for you as well.’

  ‘Oh Harry!’ She was on the verge of tears again. ‘Of course it is!’

  ‘Then let’s have no more of this nonsense. We’ll talk again soon; what you need now is a good night’s rest.’

  She gave a wan smile. ‘You can say that again. It’s going to be a busy weekend – for me at any rate. Good night, Harry. Thanks for putting up with me.’

  He gave her a gentle kiss. ‘I’ll always be here for you, my love,’ he whispered. ‘Good night. Sleep well.’

  TWENTY

  ‘Hi, everyone!’ Rathbone greeted the team the following morning with unusual gusto. ‘I hope you’ve all had a good night’s rest. We’ve got plenty of leads to follow up. The game’s afoot, as the saying goes.’

  ‘Been brushing up your Shakespeare, Sarge?’ said Vicky artlessly. ‘Doing a Henry the Fifth, urging us into battle?’ she added as he momentarily looked blank.

/>   ‘Never mind the literary allusions, Vicky,’ he said, with a swift change of mood. ‘You and Sukey, Tim and Mike are to go to Holmwood this morning and find out who made that phone call, and why it was anonymous. While you’re there, get statements from all the members of staff – and don’t put up with any interference from the Seatons. Remind them that bail conditions can be reviewed if necessary. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, Sarge,’ they replied in chorus.

  ‘Have you a job for me, Sarge?’ asked Penny.

  ‘You’re coming with me to DCI Leach’s office. We’re going to spend some time reviewing the Ellerman case in the light of what we learned yesterday and since you were among the first to suggest a possible link between the two deaths, you can sit in. You might even have something useful to contribute,’ he added magnanimously.

  ‘Thank you, Sarge,’ said Penny with enthusiasm.

  ‘OK. We know that Brian Seaton had a number of affairs before the one with Fenella Tremaine, and was almost certainly planning to shag Jennifer Freeman if he hadn’t already done so. Carla Seaton knew about the last two, but she adores her husband and is obviously prepared to forgive him and do everything in her power to keep him. She swears she never intended to bring about Jennifer’s death and it’s difficult to see how she could have got hold of the knife that killed Fenella, let alone contrive to be at the scene at the precise moment that murder was committed. But we all know that seemingly impossible things sometimes have a rational explanation and we have to explore every avenue, so the rest of you get going.’

  After a brief discussion on the way to the car park, the four agreed to split into pairs using separate cars. ‘In case one of us comes across a lead that takes us away from Holmwood,’ Mike explained when he put forward the suggestion.

  ‘What’s the betting they’re planning to sneak off to a pub for lunch?’ said Vicky. ‘I vote you and I book a pool car.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Sukey. By the time she and Vicky had picked up a car and driven to Holmwood, the others had already arrived and were waiting in reception, where Carla Seaton was angrily demanding whether they were ever going to be allowed to go about their business in peace.

  ‘Isn’t it enough that my husband and I find ourselves in this dreadful predicament,’ she hissed in a stage whisper to avoid being overheard, ‘without our staff being subjected to constant harassment?’

  ‘I assure you, madam,’ said Mike courteously, ‘there is no question of your staff being “harassed” as you put it, but it is essential that we put certain questions to them. We suggest that you return to your office and continue to run your business and allow us to go about ours as the law requires.’

  ‘Oh, very well,’ she said crossly, ‘but be assured our solicitor will be informed of everything that goes on while you are here.’ She swung round and left the four detectives exchanging glances.

  ‘I think she got the message,’ said Vicky. ‘Right, where do we start?’

  ‘I called Nurse Barbara Melrose before we left and asked her to make a complete list of the staff and split them into males and females,’ said Sukey. ‘Apart from the gardener and possibly a handyman, I know there are several male care assistants. They may be more comfortable being interviewed by Tim and Mike. I’ve a feeling they’re not all native English speakers so we’ll have to be patient.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ said Tim. ‘You and Vicky have been here before, so you lead the way.

  They went up to the nurses’ office, where Barbara was waiting for them. ‘I’ve made the lists as you asked, but not all the staff are here at the moment,’ she said, handing out sheets of paper. ‘They work shifts; the night shift ends at eight thirty and consists of a skeleton staff in case of emergencies, which thankfully don’t happen very often. Last night there were just three on duty – two women and one man. I’ve asked them to stay on so perhaps you’d speak to them first so they can get home.’

  ‘Were they all on the night shift the day of Jennifer Freeman’s accident?’ asked Sukey.

  Barbara nodded. ‘Not everyone is willing to work nights so they’re all volunteers and they do a four-week stretch. After that they go back to daytime working.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘It so happens at the moment that two residents have just moved out and their rooms will be unoccupied for a couple of days,’ Barbara went on, ‘so you can use them to conduct your interviews. Do feel free to come back here when you’ve finished and help yourselves to coffee.’

  ‘Many thanks. We’ll get started right away.’

  Less than half an hour later the detectives were back in the nurses’ room comparing notes. The statements from the two female care assistants tallied in one significant respect; they had both noticed occasional signs of tension between Brian and Carla Seaton and put it down to what one of them called his “overfamiliar way of talking to other women”. However, neither of them related it specifically to Fenella Tremaine and they didn’t treat it seriously. ‘It was a lot of gossip,’ the older of the two explained. ‘Some people read too many of those silly magazines.’

  ‘The chap we interviewed hasn’t been working here long and didn’t seem to have a clue what we were on about,’ said Mike.

  ‘So, nothing much there to help us forward,’ agreed Tim. ‘Let’s hope the day shift comes up with something a bit more useful.’

  An hour later the four returned to the nurses’ room to refresh themselves with coffee. ‘How did you two get on with the female staff?’ asked Mike.

  ‘As before, we found a general agreement that relations between the Seatons often appear strained,’ said Vicky. ‘One of the carers, a middle-aged woman called Flo Baxter, was determined to make the most of her chance to talk to the police and she claimed to have been passing the office door one day when she heard raised voices. She admitted she had stopped to listen but couldn’t hear what they were saying. She went on by and a few seconds later Brian came “storming out looking like thunder” as she put it so she was pretty sure they’d been having a run-in.’

  ‘She assumed that Carla had been having a go at him about the Tremaine woman,’ said Sukey. ‘You know, “the body in the bin” as the Echo calls it,’ she went on, quoting from her notes. ‘When we asked what made her think it was about that, she said, “Well, we all guessed he’d been having it off with her but had dumped her. We even thought Carla might have been the one who topped her and I for one wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a hard-featured so-and-so. And then when she and Brian were arrested after the other woman died it seemed pretty obvious.” Poor Flo, she couldn’t understand why the two of them weren’t banged up on the spot. At this point,’ Sukey went on with a chuckle, ‘Vicky informed her in no uncertain terms that we need evidence, not malicious gossip, to justify an arrest.’

  ‘She was a bit miffed at that,’ grinned Vicky. ‘She muttered something like “that’s all the thanks you get for trying to help the police”.’

  ‘I’m afraid none of the women we’ve seen so far came up with anything new,’ Sukey sighed as she gratefully accepted the mug of coffee Mike handed to her, ‘but from that smug look on your and Tim’s faces, I’ve a feeling you’ve had more luck.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re feeling smug,’ said Mike, ‘but we think we may have come up with something. We’ve spoken to a couple of male care assistants; they didn’t come up with anything new – in fact, they both pooh-poohed the gossip about the Seatons’ marital problems as “women’s talk” – but we had more luck with George Goodbody, the handyman. And we also solved the mystery of the anonymous phone call. That was Loopy Larry.’

  ‘The gardener,’ Tim explained. ‘That’s what some of the staff call him. He’s what you might describe as a “simple soul”; he’s a retired postman and George says he sees himself as a kind of one-man neighbourhood watchdog. Keeping an eye open for suspicious behaviour is something he got in the habit of doing while he was on his rounds. Every time he hears or reads about a local i
ncident – even something comparatively trivial like a purse being pinched from a woman’s shopping bag – he rings Crimestoppers claiming to have information. It’s seldom anything useful and the people manning the line have learned to recognize his voice and don’t bother reporting his calls unless it’s about something serious.’

  ‘So what about this particular call?’

  ‘All he said when we asked him about it was that he saw the picture of the wrecked car in the Echo and noticed the registration number. He was pretty sure it was the one he saw on the day of the accident, but he didn’t say in his message that the driver had been to a meeting at Holmwood. He was afraid it might somehow get back to the Seatons and he’d lose his job; he’s got an invalid wife and he needs the extra money to supplement his pension. We showed him Jennifer Freeman’s picture, but he didn’t recognize her.’

  ‘Well, that’s one loose end tied up,’ said Sukey. ‘But you’ve obviously got something more interesting up your sleeves, so spill it.’

  ‘It’s more to do with the Tremaine murder,’ said Mike. ‘George suggested we talk to a woman called Minnie who comes in three times a week to do the cleaning. She works for an agency and she’s reported as saying that another woman from the same agency saw the picture in the Echo of the murder weapon – the knife with the fancy handle – and got quite het up about it. She’s known as Aggie; George says she “looks sort of foreign” but her English is very good and she told Minnie she’d seen the knife but she wouldn’t say where. According to George, Minnie tried to persuade her to talk to the police but the mention of the word seemed to terrify her. She’s probably had a bad experience in her own country.’

  ‘So she’s hardly more reliable than Loopy Larry,’ said Vicky, with a degree of scepticism.

  ‘Not so fast,’ said Mike. ‘Minnie works for an agency that calls itself, would you believe, Clean as a Whistle. I rang them to try and get the names and addresses of the people Aggie cleans for, but the woman I spoke to refused to give the information over the phone.’