There Must be a Happy Medium

by Morgana Best

  I ordered at the counter, but I don’t know why I bothered. The coffee really was atrocious, and most locals didn’t go there. The café made their living from passers by. And there were plenty of passers by. This would have been a ghost town already but for the fact it was on a major highway between Sydney and Brisbane.

  “Do you mind if I tell you something confidential?” I said as I took my seat opposite Sally. The area could have been pretty with a little bit of work, but as it was, it was most unappealing. There was a high brick wall on which had been painted a most hideous art scene of the Australian landscape. Kangaroos, wombats, black cockatoos, koalas, and platypuses covered the walls. The only redeeming feature was a hedge, but it would take another decade, at least, for it to grow to cover the wall.

  The courtyard needed a good sweeping, and all the chairs and tables were green plastic, and an unattractive shade of green at that. The umbrella over our table was a dirty cream color. There wasn’t even a tantalizing aroma of coffee, probably as the coffee was so weak.

  Sally leaned across the table, clearly keen for some good gossip. “Is it true that you’re a working as a consultant for the police?” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

  I was so shocked I nearly fell off my chair. “Who told you that?” I squeaked.

  “Constance. She said it was a secret, so don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Please don’t. You mustn’t tell a soul,” I said. I was furious with Constance. If Sally was the murderer, then Constance had tipped her off to my involvement with the police.

  Sally nodded. “You can trust me, Prudence. My lips are sealed. I never tell anyone else’s secrets to anybody. Is that the secret you were going to tell me, or is there another?”

  “Well, and this is just between us, I’ve just been to the Council to ask about the realtor, Robert Wrench.”

  “Oh, he’s a nasty piece of work,” she said.

  She didn’t say anything else, so I continued. “I’ve been wondering whether he was the one responsible for Mrs. Cornford’s murder.” She gasped, but I pushed on. “I’ve checked into it, and he’s the realtor selling that whole subdivision behind Mrs. Cornford’s house. I heard a rumor that he made a deal with Mrs. Cornford, that he would bulldoze all those old chicken sheds and all the other decrepit sheds around her land, in exchange for her paying for the painting of her house. I even heard he offered to pay to have her lawn cut on a regular basis if she agreed to his terms. The reason was, of course, that her place was an eyesore and would deter buyers of his plots. No one would want to build a nice new home next to a dilapidated old house with trash all over the yard.”

  Sally nodded slowly, just as the waitress brought my coffee. I thanked her, and took a tentative sip. It was as bad as I thought. I pushed it to one side.

  “I knew all that,” Sally said with obvious disappointment.

  “You did?” I was surprised. “Do you think he murdered Mrs. Cornford?”

  “I can’t imagine why anyone did,” Sally said. “She was a very unpleasant woman, but at times she could be kind in her own way. I don’t think she liked Robert Wrench at first, and I often heard them yelling, but in the last few weeks, I’m sure they came to an agreement. I can’t imagine him murdering her after they agreed on terms.”

  I nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.” Still, his face had been beet red when I left the Town Planner’s room. He had seemed angry. I could have sworn he was glaring at me. “What about the builders? Did she owe them money?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact she did,” Sally said after sipping her coffee. Obviously, her coffee was better than mine. Either that, or she had absolutely no taste buds whatsoever. “She hadn’t paid them for the last month or so, but kept telling them she would. Tom Jones was angry about it, too. I often had words with him. I thought he was rather stupid. He usually made a mess with his renovations and expected me to clean up after him.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said in a sympathetic tone. “Surely builders should clean up after themselves.”

  Sally nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s what I told him. We had words,” she said again. I was beginning to think it was her favorite expression.

  “Do you think the builder murdered Mrs. Cornford?” I asked her.

  “But why would he?” she said. “It doesn’t make any sense. It just doesn’t make any sense why anyone would want to kill her. She was harmless, really. She wanted to mind her own business, and she stayed in the house most of the time. Sure, she could be a very annoying woman, but she was harmless. No one would have a reason to want her dead.”

  Her voice shook as she said it, and unless she was a wonderful actress, I was beginning to think I could rule her off my suspects list. I thought I’d try one more thing. I rubbed my eyes. “I think I’m going to have to take antihistamine medication,” I complained loudly. “My eyes are really sore. It feels like I have little pieces of dirt in them.”

  “Here, try some of my eye drops,” Sally said. She picked up her purse and rummaged through it. “Here it is.” She pulled out a bottle and handed it to me. “Keep this. I have several.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” I protested, but she insisted.

  “It’s that time of year for allergies. My eyes have been dreadful lately. I have plenty of bottles of eye drops at home, so please keep it.”

  I thanked her. I had a quick look at the ingredients, and sure enough, the label included potassium chloride and tetrahydrozoline—and tetrahydrozoline had killed Mrs. Cornford. The police had not released that information, and Sally appeared to have no knowledge of the fact.

  I was beginning to think Sally couldn’t be the murderer. If she was the murderer, then she had just given an Oscar-winning performance. Plus she had handed me a bottle of eye drops, no doubt the very same brand that had killed Mrs. Cornford. If she was in fact the murderer, this had to be a highly elaborate and well thought-out scheme. It just didn’t seem likely.

  I felt I had wasted the afternoon looking for information on both Robert Wrench and Sally Symons. Still, Robert Wrench had overheard me asking questions about him at the Town Planner’s office, and Sally was in possession of more than enough tetrahydrozoline to kill a person. Yet if it wasn’t Robert, and it wasn’t Sally, then who did that leave? I was fast running out of options.

  Chapter 19

  I took the bottle of eye drops to the police station, and left it for Larry along with a note. I was exhausted after my long day, and couldn’t wait to get home. As soon as I arrived home, I locked my door. I needed to water the plants, but I just couldn’t face it. It would have to wait until tomorrow. The cats and the dog were another matter. Once they were fed, I threw myself on the couch. I wanted to have a shower, but it was one more job. I really didn’t think I could. I didn’t even have the energy to eat. I picked up the blanket that Alum had folded up and pulled it over me.

  I was drifting off to sleep, despite the fact it was only late afternoon, when I realized that I hadn’t called Alum back. I awoke with a start, not knowing how long I’d slept. It was pitch black. Both cats were asleep on my legs, but Mary was sitting up, alert. That worried me. Had she heard something—or someone—outside? I felt groggy and a little nauseous. My first thought was that Sally had somehow managed to slip something into my coffee, but then I dismissed the notion as fanciful. I had hardly even sipped it, at any rate.

  I suddenly felt horribly unsafe. I had been living alone since my kids had left for college, and I had never been frightened before. Sure, my cottage was a long way from anyone, but this was a safe town, or had been until Mrs. Cornford’s murder. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, and held my breath, listening for noises.

  Every sound seemed magnified to my frightened ears, the horrifying high pitched wailing of the bush stone curlew bird, the growling of a koala—sure, they look cuddly, but they sound the opposite—and was that a man running across my roof or simply a family of brushtail possums?

  I remembered the
terrifying tales my grandfather had told me of the bunyip, a mythical (or so I hoped) creature said to live in billabongs and swamps. There was a swamp near Mrs. Cornford’s house. Bunyips devoured humans, particularly women. My grandfather had told me that only the intended victim could hear the cry of the bunyip. I pulled my blanket closer. It was amazing how night could turn a normally logical woman into a shivering wreck.

  Just as I convinced myself the eerie noises were simply the wildlife, Mary walked over to the door and looked under it. I thought I would pass out from fright. I held my phone close and considered calling the police. But what would I say? That I was scared to be alone in my house, and my dog was looking at the door? But if I waited until an intruder broke in, it would be too late.

  I looked around the room for a weapon. I couldn’t see anything, and nothing came to mind. I forced myself to stay calm. There were knives in the kitchen, but what else? There was a large iron pot in the kitchen cupboard. I figured that was my best chance.

  That was when I heard the footsteps, the distinctive crunch of shoes on gravel. I broke into a cold sweat. Mary ran to the door and barked. I froze as pure panic washed over me.

  “I have a gun!” I yelled loudly. I have no idea why I said it. I didn’t have a gun, but the person outside didn’t know that. While Australia’s gun laws were stringent, most people living out of town had a rifle to shoot deadly Eastern Brown snakes, taipans, tiger snakes, and copperhead snakes. Snakes were protected by law, but people generally didn’t care about that when their children or pets were in danger.

  I heard the owner of the footsteps run away, or at least I thought I did. It was hard to hear because Mary was now howling. I took the opportunity to run to the kitchen to fetch the iron pot, but as I passed the broom, I thought it a more likely weapon; I wouldn’t have to get so close to whoever it was.

  I didn’t check the doors and windows, as I had locked them all after I’d found Mrs. Cornford’s body. I grabbed the broom, backed against the wall, and got my phone from my pocket. Just then there was a loud crash from the direction of my bedroom.

  Fueled with adrenaline, I ran toward the sound, figuring in a split second that, if the intruder had done this to gain entry, then if I hurried, I had a better chance to keep him outside using the broom handle.

  I was instantly relieved when I saw the damage, a small hole in my bedroom window caused by the rock on the floor. No one would be able to gain entry through that. I stood at the far end of the room and called triple zero, the Australian emergency number.

  The woman’s voice on the end of the phone kept me talking until the police arrived, only five minutes later, another benefit of living in a small country town.

  I shut Mary in the kitchen. The sergeant stood with me while the constable searched in and outside the house. “Nothing,” he said to the sergeant when he returned. The sergeant wanted my full name, address, and date of birth. “Why do you need my date of birth?” I asked him, after I supplied it. It irritated me somewhat that everyone was always defined by their age, but in this case, I supposed it was for identification purposes.

  The sergeant simply smiled, and directed the constable to bag the rock. “Do you have any idea who did this? Have you upset anyone lately, Mrs. Wallflower?”

  Sally now knew I was working with the police, and Robert Wrench had overheard me asking questions about him at the Council. I didn’t tell that to the uniformed officer. I realized I should have called Larry. “Do you mind if I call Detective Brown?” I asked him. “I’m currently working for him as a consultant, and I don’t know how much I should say.”

  The sergeant looked puzzled, but agreed. Larry answered the phone at once. After I filled him in, Larry asked me to give the phone to the sergeant. “After saying, ‘Yes, sir,’ to Larry several times, the sergeant handed the phone back to me. “Call me the second they leave,” Larry said, and then hung up.

  “We’re going to drive past your house several times tonight,” the sergeant said, “so that should deter whoever it was. Typically, the rock through the window scenario is usually meant as a warning, not as a death threat.”

  I nodded.

  “If you hear anything at all, call us straight away.”

  I promised that I would.

  The constable returned and said that no one would be able to get a hand through the window and unlock it, given that there was a key-lock device on the window, so it was secure. He suggested I call my insurance company in the morning. With that, they left, telling me to lock the door behind them.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I locked the door, and then hurried to my bedroom window, avoiding the glass on the floor. I taped across the big hole, and then pulled the curtains. I took a blanket from the bed out to the couch. There was no way I was going to sleep in my bed that night. I drew every curtain in the house, and turned on all the lights. That made me feel much braver.

  I made myself a mug of hot chocolate, took it to the couch, and then called Larry back. “Do you have any idea who it was?” were Larry’s first words.

  I sighed. I would have to confess, and I hoped it wouldn’t get back to Alum. “I happened to be speaking to the Town Planner this afternoon, and I asked her about Robert Wrench. She basically said she didn’t trust him, and then I realized he was nearby and had probably overheard it all.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then Larry said, “You just happened to run into the Town Planner?”

  “Yes,” I said in a small voice.

  “Where?”

  “In her office,” I admitted.

  “I see.” Larry’s voice had taken on a steely tone. “And I got your note with the eye drops. Did you just happen to run into Sally Symons this afternoon, too?”

  I ran one hand through my hair. “Okay, Larry, this is what happened. I went to the Town Planner pretending to be a buyer for one of the plots near Mrs. Cornford’s land. I didn’t find out much, except the location of the sewer lines under the whole subdivision. Anyway, when I came out of her office, Robert Wrench was there. He looked furious, and I was sure he’d overheard what I said. Then I went to the shops and saw Sally drinking coffee, so I sat with her.”

  Larry groaned loudly. “Prudence! You’re not supposed to do any of this. You’re supposed to act solely in your role as consultant.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, gently pushing Possum away from my hot chocolate. “And it gets worse. My friend, Constance, told Sally I was working for the police.”

  Again, there was silence for a while, and then Larry spoke again, “What did you find out from Sally?”

  “Not much, just what I said in the note I left for you. I pretended I had sore eyes, and she freely gave me that bottle of eye drops. She said she had plenty more at home.”

  “So which one threw the rock? Prudence, surely it had to be either Robert Wrench or Sally Symons, unless you happened to run into one of the other three suspects?”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said shakily. “Sally already knew I was working for you. I don’t think I upset her by anything I said, unless she knew I was pretending to have sore eyes and was drawing her out about the eye drops. She’d have to be an awfully good actor, though.”

  “She is.”

  I didn’t think I had heard him properly. It was getting colder, so I wrapped the thicker blanket around my shoulders. “What did you say, Larry?”

  “I said she is a good actor, an actor at any rate. Our background checks on all suspects turned up some interesting information on her. She was involved in musical theater back in her youth, with many appearances in the lead role at shows at the Princess Theater and the Palace Theater in Melbourne.”

  “Wow,” I said. I was stunned. “Whatever happened to her acting career?”

  “Marriage. She got married, had a bunch of kids, and then got divorced.”

  I nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes, that figures. Been there, done that,” I said.

  I jumped as a car light shone throu
gh my window. “Larry, someone’s here.”

  “Oh, that would be Alum.”

  “Alum?” I screeched. That was only marginally preferable to an intruder. I had hoped he wouldn’t find out about the night’s events, and I knew I would be in for a scolding for putting myself in danger. I knew I would have to tell him at some point, but not so soon. “You told him?” I was unable to keep the accusation out of my voice.

  “Yes, you two will be working together, and …”

  Alum was already knocking and calling out my name. “Coming!” I called. To Larry, I said, “I’ve gotta go.”

  I hung up, flung my phone on the couch, apologized to an offended Lily for nearly hitting her with the phone, and opened the door to Alum. He did not look pleased.

  “Prudence, what happened?” He bolted the door behind him and then folded his arms over his chest.

  I filled him in on the night’s events. “Show me the window,” were his next words.

  Alum took some time inspecting the window. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he finally said. It wasn’t a request.

  “Okay, thanks,” I said. I felt awful as he was white and drawn, and I knew how much he needed his sleep.

  We walked back into the living room, and sat on the couch. I waited for the inevitable lecture. I didn’t have to wait long. “Prudence, you shouldn’t have asked any questions. You’re a consultant, not a detective. I was worried that you working as a consultant would put you in danger, but you took it further. You went out on a limb and actually went so far as to ask questions, questions directly of one of the suspects, and questions in the hearing of another suspect.”

  “I didn’t know he was listening,” I protested weakly.

  Alum frowned. “That’s no excuse, and you know it. Prudence, promise me you won’t go around interrogating any more suspects.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I had done, but I thought it wise not to point that out. “Okay, I promise.”