Springtime for Murder

by Debbie Young

  Paul shook his head. “No, but that’s only because Mother wanted it kept a secret, to keep Kitty on her best behaviour, and to deter any freeloaders of the kind that used to sponge off her at festivals. To be perfectly honest, it suited me that way, because at least I then didn’t have to worry about our four surviving half-siblings from her first marriage trying to get round Mother to include them too.”

  Angelica looked startled. “There are four more of you? Is there a history of multiple births in your family?”

  “No, no twins or triplets. But there were ten of us originally. Three have already died. None of the other four have spoken to Mother for at least twenty years. It’s tragic. All she ever wanted was a big family, since losing her own mother at a very young age. Now the older four might just as well have never been born, as far as she’s concerned. I hope I never get to that stage with my Dominic. He’s not a bad lad, really.”

  Angelica coughed. “So you were all planning to live here as one big, happy family after your mother’s demise? I wonder why Stuart never told me this?”

  Paul looked ever so slightly smug. “I was the only one that Mother told. As the eldest of the three of us, you know, and the most responsible. I’d always imagined that when the time came, if Stuart and Kitty wanted me to buy out their shares, I would. Either way, we’d benefit equally.”

  “So in the absence of Kitty, now there’ll be a larger share for Stuart,” Angelica said quietly.

  Paul turned to her. “Why’s that any business of yours? Who are you anyway, and what are you doing here? This is strictly a family matter.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling like an intruder myself.

  Angelica beamed winningly and held out a well-manicured hand for Paul to shake.

  “I’m Stuart’s wife, silly. And Paul, can I just say what a pleasure it is to meet you at last, even in such tragic circumstances?” She patted her tummy and looked down to speak to her as yet invisible bump. “Baby, say hello to Uncle Paul.”

  And with that, Paul burst into tears.

  36 Cain and Abel

  “You poor fool,” sobbed Paul. “Is that what he’d have you believe?”

  Angelica looked at him as if he was insane.

  “I’m sorry for you, whatever your name is, and sorry for my brother too. And God knows, I’m more sorry than I can say for poor little Kitty. Though it’s too late now to tell how much I loved her.”

  “But not for Bunny,” I said gently. “And Bunny will need you and Stuart more than ever now. Do you happen to know where Stuart is, Paul?”

  Paul shrugged. “At home with his wife, I suppose. Though when I saw him earlier in the week, he told me he was planning to come here to see Kitty this morning.”

  “Oh no, he hasn’t been at home all week,” said Angelica.

  Paul’s brow furrowed in confusion, prompting the doctor to intervene.

  “If it would help you, Paul, I could be the one to break the sad news to Bunny, as her trusted physician of several decades’ standing. I’ve had plenty of experience of imparting sad news during the course of my long career. Years ago, when I worked in geriatric care, it was a frequent duty.” He hesitated. “Although of course it’s always sad to lose a favourite patient.”

  Paul sat up straighter. “I know where my duty lies. Stuart and I should go together. It’s the least poor Mother deserves. And then I’ll see about arranging for a live-in carer to look after her on her return home.”

  “I presume Kitty’s departure will accelerate your plans to turn the Manor House into a care home,” said the doctor. “Your dear mother cannot be expected to live on her own, especially after that nasty fall.”

  Paul’s tone turned frosty. “That’s my business, thank you. I’ll discuss it with Mother and Stuart.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “First I must break the news to Stuart, as soon as I can find him.”

  Angelica forced a smile. “Good luck with that, Paul, I can never get him to answer his mobile.”

  Paul ignored her. He’d just pressed the speed-dial for his brother when footsteps rang out in the hall. Paul lowered his phone as we all swivelled round to face the door.

  “Oh,” said Stuart, staring at Paul and then at me. Then “Oh my!” he said when he saw Angelica, and “Not you!” when he clocked the doctor.

  Angelica jumped up to fling her arms about Stuart’s neck, and kissed him hard on the lips. Holding on to her arms to stop her ravishing him further, Stuart swung round to glare at Dr Perkins.

  “Last time I saw you here, I told you not to set foot in this house again. Good God, I thought once you retired, poor Mother and Kitty would be rid of you.”

  Paul looked aghast. “Why? What’s he done?”

  It was Paul’s turn to be on the receiving end of Stuart’s ire. “If you spent as much time looking out for Mother’s health as you do for her property, you wouldn’t need me to tell you. I discovered the good doctor here had been prescribing the same sedatives that Kitty was hooked on for so long, the ones she had such trouble getting off when she came back to live with Mother.”

  “What? Did Mother know? Surely she would have stopped Kitty from taking them.”

  “It was Mother he prescribed them for, putting temptation right in Kitty’s way. Of course, the print on prescription packets is so small that Mother couldn’t read it. She just trusted Kitty to give her the right dose of the right stuff at the right time. Dr Perkins knew that. And Kitty would have known exactly what they were. I don’t know why he wanted to get Kitty back on to them, but I’m sure he did.”

  With a superior smile, the doctor turned to Angelica. “I’m afraid he’s talking nonsense, my dear. He has no medical knowledge. He’s just an accountant. Sums, he can do. Prescriptions, I don’t think so.”

  “I know that your appalling treatment of my sister and your disregard for my mother’s wishes add up to malpractice,” snapped Stuart.

  “Nonsense,” said the doctor again. “I’ve been nothing but protective towards Kitty. Why do you think I didn’t call the police when she took your Mother walkabout last weekend, dumping her in that wretched open grave? Because I didn’t want to get Kitty into trouble. You must have witnessed their rows. I could quite imagine her pulling that stunt in a fit of pique to teach her mother a lesson.”

  I jumped up from my chair. “That’s ridiculous! What about Kitty’s agoraphobia? It was all she could do to bring herself to step outside into her own back garden.”

  The doctor smirked. “Oh, so you’re the expert on medical matters now, are you, Sophie? Well, let me tell you something. Kitty didn’t have agoraphobia at all. Simply a controlling mother who insisted she stay indoors to stop her getting into any mischief.”

  I sat down hard.

  Stuart shook his fist at the doctor. “How dare you slander my mother and sister! They may have had their ups and downs – who wouldn’t, living together in such isolated company and poor health? – but Kitty would never pull such an outlandish and unkind stunt on her own mother!”

  “She certainly won’t do it again,” returned the doctor coolly. “You see, Stuart, I’m afraid there’s bad news about your half-sister.”

  37 Grassed Up

  “Don’t tell me she’s gone back on the festival circuit.” Stuart thrust Angelica’s lingering arms away. Angelica huffed and returned to her seat.

  Paul got up and went over to his brother. “Stuart, listen, mate, I’m really sorry, but you need to prepare yourself for a shock – a terrible shock.” He looked up at the doctor, as if conscious that he was showing him how this should be done. Then he put an arm round Stuart’s shoulder. “Come on, mate, I need to borrow you outside.”

  “Avoid the terrace,” I called after them. “Please avoid the terrace till the police get here. And shut the door behind you to keep the cats indoors.”

  Through the kitchen window, I watched their retreating backs as Paul gently led his little brother out into the garden, well away from Kitty’s body. The b
rothers sat together on a rusting wrought iron bench beneath a shady apple tree full of blossom at the far corner of the garden. The odd petal floated down upon them, like a sympathetic tear. It was probably the closest they’d been in years.

  In Stuart’s absence, Angelica focused her attention on Dr Perkins. “So, doctor, it appears that although you thought Kitty was a potential danger to her mother, you didn’t alert the police when you found Bunny after her fall?”

  The doctor held up his hands. “As I just told you, I assumed it was a family feud, sadly fuelled by a combination of Bunny’s stubbornness and Kitty’s mood swings, the after-effect of years of drug abuse. A pitiful case, and dragging the police into it would not have done either Kitty or Bunny any favours.”

  “Drug abuse?” asked Angelica. “What kind of drugs?”

  The doctor narrowed his eyes in condemnation. “Cannabis. Pot. Marijuana. So much more addictive than most people realise. What starts as a bit of harmless fun can often descend into a sad dependency. I’m afraid it seems Kitty never really shook off the habits from her festival days.” He looked down at the floor. “No wonder her behaviour was so erratic. Still, I did what I could to help, as any decent family doctor would do.”

  “No, you didn’t,” said Angelica quietly. “You’ve got her all wrong. She was clean and has been for years. She told me so last night.”

  Billy nodded.

  I knew this was untrue, but hoped that Kitty’s little indulgence with the hash brownies the other day might have been a one-off blip to celebrate her temporary freedom from a carer’s onerous responsibilities. At any rate, it wouldn’t help her now to tell anyone about it.

  “And why should we believe you, when you’d never set foot in this village before yesterday, and certainly had no prior knowledge of Kitty or her mother. You’re not bright enough to realise that Stuart’s been leading you a merry dance. You didn’t even know that he is already married.”

  Angelica drew herself up straight. “Yes, I did. But he and his wife had divorced.”

  “Of which doubtless you were the cause?”

  I jumped in intending to defend her. “His gambling habit might have caused the breakdown of his first marriage.” Then I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. It was really none of my business.

  Fortunately, Angelica didn’t seem to mind. She reached out to touch my arm. “Sophie’s right. In fact, that’s how Stuart and I met.”

  “What, in some seedy betting shop?” said the doctor.

  “Out of the frying pan into the fire,” said Billy. “Still, a very pretty fire you are too, girlie.”

  Angelica pursed her lips. “Actually, I’m not a girlie, I’m a professional addiction counsellor. I’ve been helping Stuart to conquer his demons for several years now, and we quickly became very close.”

  The doctor eyed her stomach. “People don’t get much closer than that. Is that how you help all your clients?”

  She ignored him. “What’s more, I happen to know Kitty wasn’t growing pot for her own use. It was to relieve her mother’s chronic rheumatic pain – and very successfully so.”

  The doctor turned to me. “Have you seen how much she’s growing out the back there in her little glasshouse? Far too much for one old lady’s medicinal use.”

  Angelica sighed. “I don’t suppose it can do her any harm now to tell you she’d been selling her surplus to a local buyer.”

  I could see why she was a professional counsellor, having managed to extract so much information in a single evening from the reticent Kitty.

  “How do you know?” asked the doctor.

  “She told me about it last night. Mind you, that was only after she asked me if I wanted any myself. I said no, thank you, because I am pregnant.” She blushed. “My goodness, to think I came down here to tell Stuart our good news in person, and here I am telling half the village.” She patted her stomach for comfort.

  “Anyway, Kitty got all excited about me bringing a new baby into the family, telling me how much her mother loves babies, and she invited me to spend the night. I got the impression that she had been very lonely for a long time, and she was enjoying my company so much that I didn’t like to refuse. In fact, I was thrilled to have hit it off with Stuart’s sister. However, she told me not to come down from my room for breakfast until half past eight, because her regular customer was calling in at eight o’clock to pick up his order. I don’t know it was.”

  She looked around the room, as if hoping we might help her out.

  “No, but I do,” I said. “Dr Perkins.”

  38 A Lot of Bother

  “Dr Perkins was the customer she was expecting. I know, because I saw him arrive from my bedroom window, when I opened the curtains, just after my alarm went off at eight o’clock. I saw him walk past Joshua’s house and turn in at the Manor House gate.”

  “So were you her only customer?” asked Angelica. “Or were there more?”

  “I shan’t dignify that question with an answer,” snapped the doctor, turning away in a huff like a sulky toddler.

  I tried not to think about my inadvertent free sample in brownie form. After all, she hadn’t offered to sell me any. She was just being sociable. Besides, I had something much more important to say.

  “I can think of at least one more. When the Cats Prevention lady, Mrs Petunia Lot, was found unconscious the other day, the doctor drove her home in her car. Hector picked up the bag that she’d left behind and brought it back to the shop. It contained a bag of dried marijuana leaves.”

  “Marijuana leaves?” echoed Angelica. “Are you sure that’s what they were?”

  “To be honest, I mistook them for catnip, till Hector put me straight.”

  The doctor rolled his eyes at my ignorance.

  “And what did Hector do with them?” asked Angelica.

  “Smoked them, no doubt,” sneered the doctor. We ignored him.

  “He put them in the shop’s safe and was going to give them to Bob when he came home from work. Bob’s the nearest thing we’ve got to a village bobby. He works in the police station at Slate Green, but lives a few doors up from Hector’s House.”

  “So was Mrs Lot a friend of Kitty’s?” asked Angelica.

  “Oh no, Kitty couldn’t stand her,” I said. “The woman was always tapping Bunny for donations and dumping stray cats on her.”

  “Yes, I’d noticed all the cats,” said Angelica. “Sweet, aren’t they? I’d love a cat.”

  Right on cue, a fluffy grey cat strode in from the hall and jumped up on her lap, where it curled up and started to purr.

  “To be honest,” I continued, “I was surprised that Mrs Lot had been to visit Kitty in Bunny’s absence, and I was equally surprised that Kitty had let her in. It’s obvious now that this wasn’t a social call, but a business transaction. I’m guessing the pot was Kitty’s only source of personal income besides state benefits.”

  Angelica sighed. “Stuart told me his sister occasionally slipped him a few quid to help him. I assumed she must have independent means. If he’d known where it came from—” She faltered, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Maybe that’s how Mrs Lot came to be in no fit state to drive. A bit of over-indulgence with her purchase.” I turned to the doctor. “You told Hector it was cough linctus that had knocked her out.”

  “That’s right,” said the doctor. “Didn’t I show him the empty bottle as evidence? Another sad addict.”

  “Or else someone made her drink it,” said Billy, sitting forward in his chair.

  “Surely you don’t mean me?” asked the doctor. “Why on earth would I do such a thing? Besides, how could anyone force a person to do that?” He uttered a hollow laugh. “‘Excuse me, madam, would you just down this entire bottle of cough linctus?’” He switched to a posh falsetto. “‘Oh yes, doctor, anything you say, doctor, right away.’ Honestly, if you wanted to knock a person out with a bottle of cough medicine, you’d have a better chance if you just gave them a whack on the head with i
t.”

  I cringed at his tactlessness, thinking of how poor Kitty had been killed.

  Then I remembered one of the teachers I used to work with always having a bottle of cough mixture in his book bag. I’d caught him swigging out of it more than once, and he’d told me it was just his little helper to get him through a difficult day at work. What could I say? It wasn’t illegal.

  “Who’s to say you didn’t have an empty bottle in your possession that you could easily have planted on her?” I said. “Goodness knows what you’ve got tucked away in that black bag of yours. And why do you still even carry it about with you if you’re retired? Does anyone else find that a bit odd?”

  We all stared at Dr Perkins black bag which now stood on the kitchen table. He immediately seized it and put it on the floor by his feet, out of our reach.

  “Maybe you were taking cough mixture yourself, Doctor, for the codeine?” I continued. “A little self-medication to help you with the strains of your responsible job? I’ve heard that sometimes doctors, vets and dentists dose themselves up from their pharmacy stocks to get them through the day. That would account for your having an empty bottle to hand.”

  The doctor spluttered in exasperation. “Good God, what is it with you lot and cough medicine? You’re obsessed.”

  When I nodded in agreement, he looked relieved but as I continued speaking, his face went taut.

  “Now that I think about it, I don’t believe either cough mixture or pot knocked Mrs Lot out. It was something else. Dr Perkins, I think you slipped her a different drug that you happened to have in your black bag. When Mrs Lot arrived at the Manor House that morning, letting herself in through the unlockable door, as everybody else in the village seems to do these days, she caught you red-handed, buying a supply of marijuana from Kitty.”

  To my surprise, everyone let me continue unchecked, including the doctor. “So you surreptitiously administered a substance to knock her out and make her forget that she’d seen you, and then let her leave before you did. You also planted a sachet of marijuana leaves and an empty cough mixture bottle in her bag to put everyone off the scent.”