Murder and Malpractice

by Mairi Chong

  ‘Right,’ Brenda said, and Cathy turned to look. Brenda, who was flushed in the cheeks, had picked up her notepad and was reading from it. ‘I’ve called this meeting,’ she said, ‘to quash a few rumours and to allow us to unite as a team at this difficult time.’ She glanced around the room, taking in all of the staff in turn. ‘I have just come off the phone from the police,’ she continued, ‘and unfortunately, they are still dragging their heels over making an arrest. Fraser,’ Brenda said turning to the man, ‘I hope you’ll understand that we cannot have you here until this business is completely cleared up. I’m not accusing you of anything, but you can see how things are. The police are still clearly trying to gain solid evidence. They said that themselves.’ Brenda looked around once more. ‘I was going to use this meeting to talk about how we were all going to deal with handling members of the public, our patients, at this uncertain time. I think we need to be prepared. I myself am going to be taking some leave from things, so I need your support …’ The practice manager trailed off as she saw Cathy’s reaction.

  ‘Take some leave from things? This is all wrong Brenda,’ Cathy said. She had her hands on the desk in front of her and as Brenda paused, Cathy got to her feet, scraping her chair back. Slowly, she looked around at all of them. Irene stared back at her and Linda squirmed in her seat. Only the office girls seemed to be enjoying the drama.

  ‘How can you all just sit back and agree that it must have been Fraser?’ Cathy said. ‘How can any of you really believe that?’ Cathy turned to Fraser who could not look at any of them. ‘No,’ Cathy repeated. ‘It’s not right.’

  There was a stunned silence. Surprisingly, it was Michelle who first spoke.

  ‘Well the police certainly believed it when they took him in,’ the girl said. ‘Killed Dr Hope because he was in love with Tracy, or had humiliated him or something, and then probably when she turned him down, he stabbed her.’ Michelle seemed satisfied with this version of events anyway. ‘He was the one who knew about poisons,’ she went on, growing in confidence. ‘And then, he was the one who was seen running away that evening before Tracy was found. He was going to set up some drug thing at the practice too to make money.’

  Cathy grew exasperated. She shook her head. ‘But listen,’ she said, ‘it’s all wrong, can’t you see?’ They stared back at her with blank expressions. ‘Jesus,’ Cathy exclaimed. ‘What’s the matter with all of you?’

  It was the first time he had spoken, and the sound of his voice seemed to shock them all. ‘And this,’ James said quietly, ‘is another reason for the meeting.’ Brenda seemed to nod, and the senior doctor continued. ‘Dr Moreland, Cathy, we know you have been under some extreme strain lately, and we have given you some leeway for that.’ He hesitated and Cathy stood open-mouthed. ‘But,’ James continued, ‘the team, well, Brenda and I, feel that a break would be best for the practice as a whole.’

  Cathy could have spat at him. ‘James,’ she said, losing herself completely. ‘Shut the hell up and listen to me. Kick me out after I say all this, fine, but let me just speak!’

  James sat back and gestured to Brenda that he was defeated.

  ‘OK,’ Cathy said, trying to speak levelly, ‘so we know that Mark was poisoned that morning and we all thought it must have been done in the coffee room before James took the mug from Michelle and went downstairs to say his piece about resigning.’ There was a murmur of surprise from those members of staff who had not heard this small piece of intrigue, but Cathy ploughed onwards. ‘I’m sorry James,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure it’s hardly in doubt that some of us may have, along with the police, assumed that the killer was you. You had the opportunity to tamper with the coffee.’ James raised his hands in acceptance of the fact. ‘The truth was though,’ Cathy went on, ‘that anyone in the building that morning could have put the poison in that cup.’ Cathy looked around at all the faces turned to her. ‘It’s true,’ she said, ‘you all had the chance. While you were all milling around upstairs making your teas and coffees that dreadful day, any one of you could have taken a syringe-full of poison from your pocket, quickly squirted it into the mug while everyone was busy gossiping, and it would be done. By the way, it was a metal cleaner that was used. Highly toxic and awful stuff, but readily available and easy for anyone to obtain from Bert’s cupboard.’ Cathy paused but knew that she must plough on. ‘None of you noticed the other day when I came upstairs for coffee with you,’ Cathy said. ‘As an experiment, I filled a five-millilitre syringe with water in my room. I put it in my pocket and came up. You all faffed around talking and getting in each other’s way while you were making your coffee. No-one was paying any attention to me and my syringe of water. Two seconds was all it took. I squirted it into your mug, Julie. I don’t think it’ll have done you any harm,’ Cathy said, smiling now at Julie’s look of disbelief. ‘Maybe just cooled your drink down a bit,’ Cathy continued. ‘So, in theory, it was possible that someone in the building that morning spiked the coffee. Do you all agree?’

  Cathy looked around the room beseechingly, desperate for at least one of them to nod. Nothing.

  ‘I must admit that for a while I was confused. It seemed to me that Mark was definitely the intended victim, but I couldn’t forget that he had been doing a dual clinic alongside his trainee that morning, or rather he should have been if Jackson had turned up.’ Cathy looked across at the trainee with distaste. He had, up until now, sat quietly alongside the receptionists. Cathy had seen him attempting to make eye contact with Fraser, but the pharmacist was too intent on studying his own hands to be drawn. ‘In fact, there might well have been an accident had Jackson come in that day, but his thermos mug, having been left carelessly on the kitchen worktop, had already been cleaned the night before, so any residual unpleasantness might have been washed away. No, Jackson was a red-herring. We’ll have a chat later about things,’ Cathy said to the trainee. ‘Now’s not the time, but I think you might agree that general practice is not the best place for you.’

  Cathy ignored the man’s look of disgust and began again. ‘We all knew from Fraser’s talk that domestic cleaners were occasionally taken in attempted suicides and we all knew that that the ones containing hydrocarbon were unpleasant and oily but could be swallowed without much problem. Half an hour to an hour later though, you would start to know about it. Usually, the oesophagus would rupture and it would cause extreme respiratory distress, pulmonary oedema and death.’

  Cathy saw the blank expressions on all the non-clinical members of the team and explained: ‘Gullet gets big holes in it and breathing packs up.’

  Michelle and Julie looked horrified.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said but was secretly glad to have at least elicited some kind of a reaction.

  ‘What I didn’t understand was why Mark’s mouth was such a mess, remember James?’ Cathy continued, turning to her partner. ‘If he had just drunk the poison straight down, then why was his mouth as blistered as it was?’ James shrugged and looked as if he was going to intervene, so Cathy quickly turned and began again. ‘So, I went into Mark’s room this morning. Don’t look like that Brenda. I was trying to see what Tracy had spotted that none of the rest of us had. She stood in the front reception, remember? And she said that something was missing from his room. I couldn’t work it out, I’ll be honest,’ Cathy said ruefully. ‘That was until I spoke to Bert.’

  ‘I thought he might be involved,’ Brenda said under her breath.

  ‘Shut up Brenda and listen,’ Cathy replied rudely. She was beyond reasoning now and any thought of maintaining public niceties was long gone. ‘It wasn’t what Bert said to me that helped, it was when he coughed. His breath, you see? It stank of coffee. It was only then that I realised that that was what Mark’s breath should have smelled like too. It should have smelled of coffee as it was the last thing he had drank. It didn’t though,’ Cathy said vehemently. ‘And I was probably the only one in a position to be to close enough to know. I was the one who tried to intubate him. I was l
iterally peering down his mouth.’ Cathy shook her head in reminiscence of that awful morning. ‘He didn’t smell of coffee though,’ she went on, ‘he smelled minty.’

  The rest of the room looked astonished.

  ‘The mouthwash,’ Cathy exploded, slamming her hand down on the table, making them jump. ‘The poison was in his bloody mouthwash! We all knew about his obsession with perfection and cleanliness. It was his routine to freshen up after his coffee. Tracy noticed. She was the only smart one amongst us all. She saw that the mouthwash bottle, that he kept by the sink, had gone.’

  ‘So, why go to all the fuss to put it in the mouthwash when it could have just as easily been put it in the coffee before it was taken down to him? I don’t understand,’ Irene said. ‘What was the significance of the mouthwash?’

  ‘Alibi.’

  Cathy let that hang for a moment or two and then went on.

  ‘So, the person who really killed Mark,’ Cathy said, ‘thought they were on to a sure thing. James was in the police station still helping with their enquiries and the police appeared to be no closer to working out how Mark was actually given the poison.’ Cathy looked grimly around the room. ‘But then Tracy went and ruined it all. She could be horribly boastful. Even all the nonsense about inheriting Mark’s money was a lie. I hear that Mark hadn’t left her the house or any of his money. It was to go to his distant relatives all along. Anyway, the foolish girl announced, for all to hear, that she had spotted something missing in Mark’s room. She even suggested that she had an idea of who the killer really was. It was a stupid thing to say, even for her.’ Still, no-one spoke. ‘None of us could believe that James was involved, but we couldn’t be sure,’ Cathy continued. ‘I don’t really know if Tracy knew who the killer was for certain, but she had to throw that bit of a threat out there and wait and see if anyone bit.’

  ‘So, Fraser saw his opportunity,’ Brenda interjected, ‘and went to see the silly girl. But then what? It all keeps coming back to Fraser.’

  ‘No hold on Brenda,’ Cathy said raising a hand in protest. ‘Fraser did go upstairs, but that was after she had been killed. He found her, and panicking, he ran. I heard someone else leaving that evening and stupidly it didn’t click until later. Of course, had I looked out of my window; I might have seen the car of the real murderer driving away.’

  ‘But you didn’t,’ said Irene. Cathy turned to the practice nurse and raised her eyebrows. Irene looked back defiantly. ‘I’m sorry, Dr Moreland, but even the police will say that you thinking you heard someone else leaving, isn’t strong enough evidence to clear Fraser of the crime. All roads still lead to him.’

  ‘No, Irene. That’s where you’re wrong,’ Cathy said, glancing at Fraser who was now picking at the skin around his fingernails. ‘The murderer knew they had to speak to Tracy in person that late afternoon. It was imperative that they find out what she knew. I think it was pretty much luck that the killer and Fraser didn’t pass each other on the stairs. It was a terrible risk for the killer to take, when any one of us might have walked in and caught them, but they had no choice. Tracy had shown her hand and grabbing the only thing within easy reach, they stabbed her. Bert, as you all know, had seen Fraser running away but even he admits that he might have missed someone else.’

  ‘So, the murderer stabbed her to keep her quiet and let Fraser take the blame?’ Linda asked.

  ‘Yes Linda,’ Cathy said, looking at the GP locum, who had saved them from so much disruption by stepping up to the mark these past few weeks and taking on extra shifts. Cathy had in the past found Linda both tiresome and irritating. If she was honest, she had been jealous of the young GP, after she had filled Cathy’s shoes so easily while she herself had been off sick. Cathy smiled at her own insecurity. ‘But here we are left with a problem, Linda, everyone,’ she said, looking around the room. ‘Fraser is still very much a suspect for murder. The murderer, I assume, would be happy to let that suspicion just hang. The police might still find enough evidence to incriminate Fraser even now. The DCI hinted as much to me on the phone earlier.’ Cathy looked almost rueful. ‘Fraser’s career seems in tatters. So does mine, for that matter, Fraser, so you’re in good company.’ The practice pharmacist smiled slightly but didn’t look up. Cathy continued. ‘Fraser was there at the scene of the crime on both occasions. He was the one with superior knowledge about hydrocarbons. The case looks bleak against him.’ Cathy saw James raise his eyebrows.

  ‘But let’s just go back to Mark’s death and that word; Alibi,’ she said. ‘Why should the murderer go to all that trouble to poison the mouthwash and then have to hide the poisoned bottle and dispose of it later? Isn’t that what you wanted to know, Irene?’

  Irene shifted uncomfortably and re-crossed her legs.

  ‘The murderer,’ Cathy said, ‘could have been caught out doing just that. Surely it was a foolish and dangerous plan. So unnecessary. The reason for all the over-complication was, that they hoped that the police, and all of us, for that matter, would assume that Mark had been poisoned that morning. He did ingest the poison that morning, but it wasn’t actually put there that day. That is the important point. The morning that Mark died; the killer wanted to distance themselves from the practice as far as possible. They were conveniently away and out of the building, attending a meeting on the other side of town.’ Cathy smiled again and ran the palm of her hand across the smooth surface of the table. ‘Alibi,’ she repeated.

  Irene, Linda and Brenda looked troubled as all eyes fell upon them, the only people that this applied to. Cathy didn’t make eye contact with any of them. She knew if she did, she might falter.

  ‘I didn’t know who had done it until ten minutes before I came into this meeting. It finally clicked when I parked the car, having been to check on Fraser, who I thought might well be a danger to himself. Bert had been out earlier spraying some of the weeds in the carpark. He was doing a very careful job, from what I saw, but then I noticed that one of the rose bushes had been apparently accidentally sprayed also. The leaves were black, and the flowers had fallen off. It was then that it dawned on me, that rather than Bert being careless, this was how the remaining poison had been disposed of. The killer, desperate to rid themselves of any connection with the crime, had tossed the oily liquid out. The container, they had put in the recycling bin. It’s possible that the police might still find it there along with the killer’s fingerprints, with any luck. It was an impulsive thing to do, but the dead rose bush, now clear for all to see, marks the killer’s room as it is right outside their window.’

  And then, the chair scraped back. Her face was the picture of rage. Her eyes, grey and staring. For that second, Cathy thought that she looked almost blind.

  ‘You little bitch,’ she screamed.

  She made it to the door with surprising speed.

  And then everything was chaos. People were getting up and shouting.

  She got to the top of the stairs. Bert was there as Cathy had instructed him to be, and there was a scuffle. Falling heavily down the two flights, she came to rest at the bottom, her right leg twisted at an impossible angle.

  40

  ‘Thanks for all your help with things Bert,’ said Cathy later in the day. Although she had spent the majority of the afternoon speaking with the police, she couldn’t go home without talking to him. It felt as if there was unfinished business.

  Cathy still couldn’t understand how Brenda might have allowed either James or Fraser to take the blame for her crimes. She could only assume that the practice manager was in so deep that she had lost sight of what she was doing.

  Bert was in the corridor outside his beloved cupboard when she came across him.

  ‘Did you know it was Brenda all along then, Bert?’ Cathy had asked.

  ‘I had an idea it might be,’ the old man said. ‘They say she’s broken her leg but that’s the least of her worries now, I suppose. Why did she do it, though? That’s what I can’t understand.’

  ‘Oh, money it seems
,’ Cathy said ‘Mark had caught her embezzling practice funds. She was desperately trying to scrape some of it back by economising. Remember all the lectures about saving energy and turning off lights? She even disconnected the CCTV to the practice to save money. Our own practice manager. Someone we trusted to keep the place safe. She was in a real fix, actually. Mark would have shown her no mercy after the misappropriation of practice funds. He would have told me and James at the next meeting for sure.’ Cathy saw the old man shake his head. ‘Then, Tracy sealed her own fate by trying to do a bit of blackmail,’ Cathy continued. ‘I don’t know if Mark had been indiscreet enough to tell her what was going on. I guess we’ll never know that. Tracy was far more observant than the rest of us though and ultimately that was what did for her.’

  ‘And Brenda deliberately took advantage of that pharmacist’s mistake and used it for her own ends. It was a coincidence him choosing the same time to put oil in a mug upstairs thinking it might make that dreadful trainee sick. How did she get rid of the poisoned mouthwash afterwards?’ asked Bert. ‘I understand that she chucked the stuff out the window and then got rid of the empty bottle at her leisure, but how did she get past all of us, carrying it, without being seen?’

  ‘That was easy,’ Cathy laughed. ‘She knew there’d be a massive commotion with the discovery of his body and rightly supposed that in the time after us finding him, and him being taken away, she’d have a chance alone in the room to nip in and take it. She probably used a bag or ring-binder to slip it inside, in case she met anyone in the corridor. The irony is that it was probably hidden in her room the whole time the police were sitting there, interviewing folk. Then she could dispose of it whenever she liked afterwards. Clever, you see?’

  ‘Ah well,’ Bert said sighing. Cathy thought the old man was tired of the conversation already. ‘I suppose that pharmacist lad’s off the hook now?’ he asked.