by Emily Selby
'Please calm down.' Katie heard as she approached. The nurse raised her voice. Most nurses here were of a particularly patient type, so Katie assumed the situation must have been going on for a while.
'I will not talk to you if you continue shouting at me, Mr Bower,' the woman said.
Mr Bower? It must have been Michael Bower. His father, Harold Bower, was a resident at the Home. Katie had met the elderly man, who was recovering from his second stroke a couple of times since starting work. Harold and Michael Bower were also somewhat involved in the recent murders, but only peripherally. Katie remembered that on Saturday night, she and Michelle had added Michael's name to their list of suspects. Katie's heart sank when she thought of her suspects' list.
Gosh, she should probably add Kevin's name to it.
'My father’s sick. I will not let him stay here any longer. I'm paying for his care, and what are you doing? You're letting anyone who wants to see him, and talk to him, and get any information they want!' Michael Bower's voice broke into a shrill cry.
'Mr Bower, I insist, you stop shouting immediately.' The nurse's voice was louder and sharper now. She was standing and staring at him. Katie stopped on the spot and glanced around. Was there anyone to call for help?
'I am not shouting. I'm unhappy about the level of care he's receiving in your establishment!' Michael Bower repeated, his voice still raised.
'Mr Bower, please stop shouting, or I’ll call security.'
'Security? I'd like to see them very much! And I want to talk to the manager right now!' His fist landed on the counter with a thud.
Katie cringed. But the nurse remained calm.
'I can call her again. But please calm down. You’re scaring the residents.'
Michael Bower stopped slamming his fist on the desk and lowered his voice. Katie didn't hear what he said but after he finished his sentence he moved towards the waiting area's nearby and slumped onto a chair.
'Don't make me wait too long! I have important business to attend to,' he called out.
The nurse gave a court nod and grabbed the phone. She noticed Katie and he shot her an angry glance. Katie flinched, smiled apologetically and shuffled across the reception area to the cleaning room. She bumped into another staff member, a healthcare assistant, next to the bathroom.
'What's that shouting match about?' the woman asked.
'Mr Bower Junior is not happy with the level of care his father has been receiving,' Katie informed her.
'Is everybody safe?'
Katie glanced over her shoulder. Michael Bower was pacing the reception area. The reception nurse was still on the phone.
'I think this situation is under control now. But you'd better stick around. Just in case.' Katie paused. 'I wonder what happened to him. I didn't know Michael Bower could get so angry and aggressive.'
'Yeah. He's been angry, alright. He had a go at me earlier today. He yelled at a nurse last week. It's all to do with that murder from a couple of weeks ago.'
'Mrs Dunbar?' Katie asked.
'That’s the one, I think.' The woman nodded. 'Apparently, a lot of people came to talk to Harold Bower. Michael wasn't happy about it. Apparently, he believes old Mr Bower lost his capacity to make good decisions.'
'Surely all visits must be approved by staff?'
The healthcare assistant shrugged. 'Of course. If the nurse is happy, and Mr Bower wants to see the person, I just help with the wheelchair. I only do as they tell me.'
'Me too,' Katie said and ducked into the cleaning room.
She opened her locker, thinking about her own conversation with Harold Bower only a week or so ago. She’d been one of the people 'from the street' walking and thinking they could talk to Harold Bower. She never thought to question the old man’s intellectual capacities. Yes, he came across as little hard of hearing, a bit forgetful, but he was still quite sharp.
Katie went outside. The rain was pouring down. A gust of wind hit her in the face and filled her body with a chill. She'd love to have gone for a walk around the garden but didn’t fancy a soaking. She should be fine standing in the entrance though.
Katie sneaked out on the patio, hiding under the protruding roof. She breathed in the smell of rain and bit into her sandwich.
Who were the other visitors so disapproved by Michael Bower? Out of the people she could think of, one was dead, one was in jail and one was a friend from the Paper Crafts Club. A friend Katie was very much looking forward to seeing tomorrow, at the monthly meeting. But Dorothy Ravencroft was harmless, and she wouldn't discuss anything upsetting with Mr Bower Senior. Did anyone else visit Harold Bower who would make Michael so angry? It was an interesting question, and one worth thinking about while cleaning, especially since the Bower family might have had something to do with Zac's murder.
She took a few deep breaths and allowed the rustling of rain on the roof to calm her thoughts. She had the job to do this afternoon and even more stress to deal with on her return.
Michelle and her children definitely needed Katie’s support. And, so did Kevin.
8
When Katie arrived downstairs on Tuesday morning, it was still dark outside. The rain rattled against the windows. As it was only six am, Katie turned on the little light over the oven and sat by the window.
It had been another difficult night. When she returned from her afternoon cleaning shift, Michelle was at home sobbing uncontrollably. Kevin had been arrested and taken to the cells. Apparently, on top of the reported argument with the victim, and a clear motive, the police also identified the substance used to kill Zac in Kevin and Michelle's medicine cabinet. And no matter how much Michelle and Kevin protested, saying this was their old dog's drug used to treat epilepsy, and that after the dog died they’d forgotten to throw it away, the police wouldn't listen.
Michelle had sent her children to stay with Kevin's parents, and she cried into the early hours of the morning. At first, Katie sat with her trying to console her, but there were only so many words to say, and so much tea to offer. So, she just sat by Michelle's side, holding her hand. Eventually, Michelle asked her to go to bed, after all, Katie had work the following day. Michelle decided to take a day off and close her beauty salon.
Katie shivered. She should have gone back upstairs to get dressed or at least put on her bathrobe, but the world upstairs seemed too hard to face, and she watched silvery traces of rain twirling down the windowpanes. Maybe the best thing she could do for her friend was to turn the heating on, clean the kitchen after last night’s unfinished dinner and prepare breakfast.
Katie got up and quietly pottered around.
Michelle woke shortly afterwards. They had coffee in the most intense silence Katie had survived since the day she discovered Barry’s debts. Her heart pained at seeing her best friend's hollow eyes and sunken cheeks. She wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, that it was all a big mistake, but she had already said that many times the previous night. Besides, Michelle had asked her to stop talking about it. Katie's heart went out to Michelle, but she also knew, her friend was resilient and resourceful. And although she was quiet, Michelle's mind would be hard at work.
'I'm not very talkative today, sorry, Katie, hun,' Michelle said quietly. 'I've got loads to do.'
'I know. Is there anything I can help with?'
'What you did for me this morning was awesome. You're welcome to stay here as long you need, but I'm going to my in-laws for a while. I need to figure out what to do. I need to consider my options.'
'What are you going to do this morning?' Katie asked.
'I've a meeting with Olivia Gibson, which I need to cancel. She won't be happy about it. She has an idea for a business she wants to develop with me, but I don't have the headspace now. I'll just pick up some paperwork that can't wait and close the salon for a while. I need to find a lawyer for Kevin. And I also have to think about the girls. I haven't told them yet.'
'Thank you for letting me stay here. I'll check with police when
my flat will be available. Please, let me know if I can do anything to help. I'll talk to the inspector in charge again. There must be something I can do. Like I did with the previous cases.'
'Katie, please don't put yourself in the firing line,' Michelle protested weakly. 'Remember what happened last time? I don't want any more people harmed.'
'Don’t worry about me, Mich. I've learnt my lesson. I'll be careful.'
Yes, more careful and smarter with the sniffing.
She'd need a plan. That'd keep her busy. Katie didn't like not having much to do, and she hated it even more when she was anxious and stressed. Keeping busy was her way of dealing with a lack of clarity. Her current life was a ball of grey uncertainty. A knotted, tangled ball.
With over an hour still until starting work, Katie drove to her recent inheritance—the workshop. She couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Maybe she'd have a look around and see what she could do with this surprise gift from her former employer, Phyllis Dunbar. The inheritance procedures were still ongoing, and Katie wasn't sure if she would be able to pay the inheritance tax. The previous owner wanted Katie to do something related to arts and crafts in there. A crafts lover herself, Katie would like to obey Phyllis' wishes, but the workshop was located away from the town centre. Besides, after the recent fire, Katie wasn't sure how usable the building still was.
It was a good idea to inspect the workshop and maybe brainstorm ideas of what to do with it. The change of scenery would do her good.
Katie parked her green Nissan Micra in front of the workshop door. In the dull morning light, the workshop looked like a giant piece of washed-out tarp hanging between overgrown bushes. Smudges of soot around the only window added nothing to its appeal. Close to the door, the smell of burnt wet wood still hung in the air.
Katie walked along the side of the building. The back wall was so close to the fence surrounding the property behind, she could barely slide her finger into the gap. The grass had not been cut for a while and was saturated from the recent rain. She waded carefully through it not wanting to get her shoes too wet.
The fence separating the workshop from the neighbouring property was tall but no longer served its purpose. The planks, grey and rotting, were broken in many places. This was not a good location for a craft shop.
Katie peeked through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with weeds. A pile of rubble filled one corner. The house towering in the middle was grey, with darker patches in places. Most of the windows were broken, not even replaced by planks. The house had clearly been abandoned for many years. Apparently, there were some complications regarding the ownership, otherwise, Michael Bower would probably have snapped it up in the blink of an eye. Harold and Michael's company had been developing a new housing estate along the stream - perfect for families with children. This was definitely a prime spot. Close to the shallow stream with beautiful views over the meadows across the far bank, it was Katie's little dream.
She looked a little longer, hoping to find the ginger cat she'd spotted a couple of weeks ago, during Mrs Dunbar's murder investigation, but it was nowhere to be seen. Katie crossed the road to gaze at the stream.
After the recent heavy rain, the stream was quite full and fast-flowing. Dark, grey waters were decorated with mini-caps of white foam.
Katie took in the ambience, breathing slowly. She loved the smell of rain and rotting leaves, but this morning, there was something else in the air. Maybe a dead animal had been caught in the roots of the old oak tree?
Katie strolled along the banks, heading for the tree. As she walked towards it, she noticed a large, dark spot near where the tree’s roots created an arch on the stream bank. The spot had a strange shape: elongated, with the middle being wider than the ends–like a big spindle with a balloon in the centre. The smell intensified. Katie gagged. She took another step forward and strained her eyes. It was quite dark in the shadow of the tree but from what she could see, the spindle shape was floating and looked like a big potato sack.
Katie pulled a tissue from her pocket and covered her mouth and her nose. She took another step. And another, until the stench made her gag again.
From where she was, the floating spindle looked very much like a human body in a plastic bag.
Katie stood still, transfixed, unsure of what to do. On one hand, this was not a surprise, as if it was bound to happen. On the other hand– it was so surreal.
Still gagging, she fished her phone from her handbag and dialled 112. This was beginning to be a little too much of a habit. She hoped it wasn't the same operator.
'Hi, it's Katie Redford. I'm at on corner of Meadowbank Road and Stream Drive. I think I found a dead body floating in the stream,' she said, on one long breath.
Once she gave the necessary details to the operator, Katie disconnected and returned to her car to wait for the police in the dry. She felt numb, freezing cold and boiling hot at the same time. The rain intensified, and she turned on the wipers and watched them swish–swash left–right. She found the movement and the sounds soothing and breathed in time to the rhythm. She was giddy, unable to do anything but breathe, and stare at the wipers going swish-swash.
This was unbelievable, but this was happening again. Another murder in Sunnyvale.
When the police car finally arrived, she was relieved to see the familiar tall, broad silhouette of Chris Fox approaching her car. Two more people in police uniforms were busying around the tree, probably dealing with the body.
Chris knocked on her car window.
'Hi Katie. You all right, lass?'
Katie shuddered. Hearing the familiar voice brought her back to reality. She needed familiarity. She opened the door and climbed out, her legs still trembling. She leant against the car. Cold droplets of rain hit her face–it felt good.
'Maybe we could talk in the car?' Chris said. 'I need to ask you some questions about the body.'
'Definitely a body, then? I wasn’t mistaken?'
'No, Katie,' he said, almost sighing. 'You weren’t mistaken.'
‘Any idea who?'
Chris shook his head.
'If you don’t mind, I'd prefer we chatted here. I need fresh air,' Katie said, and gave a brief account of her discovery.
'I'm sorry I've done it again,' she added when she finished. 'Another body.'
'You seem to have a special talent for finding dead bodies.'
Katie forced her lips into a smile.
'A curse rather than a talent. I'm beginning to dread every day. Maybe I should lock myself in and never leave the house. Maybe it's me who's bringing all these bad things to Sunnyvale. This is no longer the town I knew. I can't believe Kevin has been arrested.'
'Neither can I,' Chris said.
'Do you really believe he's capable of killing anyone?'
Chris scratched his head. A frown formed on his broad, freckled forehead.
'Dunno. The investigation is still ongoing. He had a motive, an opportunity and the means.'
'Really? An old dog's medicine?'
'Apparently so. Phenobarbital,' Chris said, slowing down to pronounce the name of the drug. 'An anti-epileptic, but it can also kill. Vets use it to put animals to sleep.'
'I bet there are other people in Sunnyvale with access to it since it's a medicine?' Katie gasped. 'And what about the fingerprints over mine? Any news on them?'
'Definitely not Kevin's.'
'What’s Kevin saying?' she asked.
'He's still denying it, of course. Says he didn't touch the guy. They had an argument. Zac wanted Kevin to do something illegal to his car and Kevin refused.'
It made sense in the context of what Katie had heard from Michelle and Zuza.
Katie rubbed her nose to stop tears from gathering in the corners of her eyes.
'The DI wants to talk to you about those fingerprints, by the way.'
Katie nodded. She'd be more than happy to talk about anything that could shed more light on this grim case.
'Hey, Katie,' Chris
said. 'Jack Heaton is on his way here, and I'll be heading back to the office. You need to make a statement about the body at the station. Do you want a lift?'
'No. I need to take the car back. I can't imagine coming here again just to collect the car.'
'Are you safe to drive?'
'What do you think, officer?'
Chris looked at her carefully. His eyes were serious.
'I trust you,' he said eventually, 'but please stop driving if you don't feel safe on the road anymore.'
'Thanks, Chris.' Katie smiled. 'I'll be careful.'
'See you at the station in ten minutes.'
Katie nodded and climbed back into her car. Jack's silver Vauxhall emerged from around the corner as she was pulling off.
9
When she entered the office, Katie's shoulders were aching from gripping the steering wheel so tight. But at least, by the time she reached the station, she had a plan in mind. It involved talking to DI Jack Heaton.
After she made a formal statement, she sat in the staff room, clutching her handbag on her lap, determined to wait for Jack. She didn't even remove her jacket.
She had it well-rehearsed in her head. She was going to explain to Jack why he was wrong to arrest Kevin. That Kevin was a good guy, and that there must have been some other people involved in the crime. People who he'd not considered yet. Because DI Jack Heaton didn't believe in hunches. Because DI Jack Heaton thought big city logic also worked in small towns.
She sat watching the door.
'Hi Katie, you're up early again,' Celia greeted her. But there was no smile on her face. 'You forgot to take your jacket off,' she commented, while she removed hers and draped it over the back of her chair. She booted up her computer, and the fax machine clinked. The staff room was coming to life.
'Katie, are you alright?' Celia waved at her.
Katie forced her lips into a thin smile. She wanted to nod but moving any part of her body seemed beyond her control.