The Cat That Played The Tombola

by Fiona Snyckers

  All she had to do was drop off the homeopathic bottles at the surgery and ask Isobel to give them to Dr. Dyer. Then ten minutes after that she would be stripping off her wet clothes and sitting down to a portion of Pappa’s lasagna.

  The rain had become so heavy that Fay almost walked past the surgery without noticing. She had to backtrack and mount the steps, her shoes making squishing noises as she went. It was wonderful to be under cover. She scrubbed her hands over her face, aware that she was probably making her smudged mascara even worse. She stepped into the surgery, expecting to find a waiting room full of patients and Isobel sitting behind her desk.

  Instead, the waiting room was empty, there was no sign of Isobel, and the only person there was Doc Dyer who had just emerged from his consulting room.

  “Oh, hi Doc. Sorry, I must look like a drowned rat. Where is everyone?”

  “Hello, Fay love. David and I took our lunch breaks at the same time today. We have a visitor.” He pulled a long-suffering face. “What have you got there?”

  Fay held up her brown bag. “This? I brought it for David to test in his lab. It turns out that Mrs. Saville was taking homeopathic remedies from the holistic therapy center down at the docks. I thought it was worth checking whether they could have been the source of the arsenic poisoning.”

  “Good thinking. Are those the actual bottles she was taking?”

  “Unfortunately, not. The police must have taken those into custody when they searched her house. These are the same remedies she was using, though. And they came from the same vendor and delivery batch. Shall I leave them with you?”

  “No, no. Come in and give them to David yourself. And while you’re at it, stay for lunch.”

  Fay threw up her hands in horror. “Have you seen what I look like? I’m literally dripping on your floor. Besides, Morwen will be expecting me home for lunch.”

  “Oh, go on. Morwen won’t mind if you miss lunch. She’s the most relaxed person I know. What you Americans would call laid back. I should know seeing as I delivered her nearly forty years ago. She was even relaxed as a baby. Hardly cried at all.”

  “It’s not just Morwen, Doc. First of all, I look as though I’ve been dragged through a bush backwards. A wet bush. And secondly, I’ve just realized that your guest must be Laetitia. She doesn’t even like me. She won’t be happy if I gatecrash. I wasn’t invited.”

  “I’m inviting you now.” He patted Fay’s shoulder, ignoring the fine mist of droplets that rose from her jacket as he did so. “Please, Fay love. For my sake. I can never think of anything to say to her. Come and dilute the conversation.”

  Fay rolled her eyes. This wasn’t the first time he had forced her to gatecrash a social occasion with Dr. Laetitia Poynter. At least the previous time had just been coffee. This was lunch. That occasion had been super awkward, and this one promised to be no better.

  Then she remembered how Doc Dyer had taken her along to the Rotary Club meeting, not to mention all the other help he always gave her willingly. This was the least she could do for him.

  “Oh, all right. But please make it clear that it was your idea and not mine. I don’t want her to slay me with a glare from her laser eyes.”

  Doc Dyer led her through to a formal dining room at the back of the house. It wasn’t the cozy room she was used to where he and his son ate when they were alone. This was a much larger room. It was chilly and rather dark.

  David and Laetitia were sitting on opposite ends of the long table. They looked up as she came in. There was no mistaking the expressions on their faces. David looked pleased to see her. His eyes lit up with unmistakable warmth as they rested on her face. Laetitia’s eyebrows snapped together, and the corners of her mouth turned down.

  “Fay here came to drop something off for you, David,” said Doc. “I insisted that she stay for lunch. She was reluctant because Morwen has lunch waiting for her, but I’m sure you’ll join me in in persuading her.”

  “Of course.” David jumped up to pull out a chair for Fay. “I can’t pretend our cook is as talented as Morwen, but she makes a pretty mean stew.”

  “If she has lunch waiting for her at home …” said Laetitia.

  David waved this away. “Morwen won’t mind. She’s very relaxed.”

  “I’ll send her a text to let her know,” said Fay. When she had sent it, she popped her phone into her bag. “Done.”

  “What was it you brought for me, Fay?” David handed the stew to his father who handed it along to Laetitia. As the guest, she was expected to help herself first.

  Fay passed him the bag of homeopathic concoctions. “Mrs. Saville might not have believed in doctors, but she did believe in alternative medicine. It turns out she’s been taking homeopathic remedies for months now.”

  “From that charlatan down at the docks? What is his name? Malkin? I had to warn him just recently to stay away from one of my patients. He was trying to persuade her to stop taking her heart medication and to take his sugar pills instead. I think I scared him into leaving her alone.” He gave a satisfied nod.

  Fay had no difficulty in believing this. David could be quite intimidating when he tried. And even when he didn’t try.

  “Homeopathy?” Laetitia’s voice rang out in the chilly room. “Isn’t that typical of this ridiculous little island?”

  Chapter 13

  Her words were met with silence. Doc Dyer looked pained while David’s face was frozen. Only Fay was unaffected by her rudeness.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said calmly. “I don’t think that homeopathy or any alternative remedies are particular to Bluebell Island. I was talking to Gary Malkin and he told me that the whole reason he came to Bluebell Island was to get away from the mainland. Apparently, it’s well stocked with alternative practitioners. The competition was too strong for him to start up his own business.”

  “That’s Britain for you,” said Laetitia. “I always thought it was a backward place.”

  “I grew up in Connecticut and lived in New York City for twelve years,” said Fay. “There were more homeopaths and alternative medicine centers than you could shake a stick at. Especially in places like Brooklyn. Alternative ideas are everywhere. Human beings are always chasing after miracle cures. It’s a way of keeping hope alive.”

  “Quite right,” said Doc Dyer. “We tend to offer more conventional medical solutions around here, but we also like to think that we keep hope alive, right David?”

  But David was staring at Fay. “Why are you steaming?”

  She turned to look at her right shoulder. Wisps of steam were rising into the air from her jacket.

  “Sorry about that. I got caught in the rain walking up the hill. My jacket got wet and now the water is evaporating.”

  “You went out without an umbrella or a Mac?” Doc Dyer sounded horrified.

  Fay mentally translated his words from British to American. Mac was short for Macintosh, which referred to any kind of overcoat that a person would use to protect themselves from the rain or the cold.

  “I keep forgetting,” she explained.

  As his father tutted, David reached for the brown bag she had left on the table. “I’ll test these when I’ve finished consulting this afternoon. It will be interesting to see if they are anything more than water and sugar pills.”

  “I heard in the village that the deceased woman was being poisoned by her housekeeper,” said Laetitia, helping herself to salad. “Someone pointed her out to me and I must say it wouldn’t surprise me at all. She has a criminal face.”

  “Luckily we don’t convict people on what their faces look like anymore,” said David. “Bertha Maidstone has always seemed like a perfectly pleasant woman to me.”

  Fay decided it was time to turn the conversation to more neutral topics.

  “This stew is excellent, David. Your cook could definitely give Morwen a run for her money.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned to Laetitia. “You must have been sad to lea
ve New York in the spring time. I can just picture Central Park covered in spring blossoms.”

  There. The food and the weather. What could be more harmless?

  “I never notice flowers,” said Laetitia. “Except when they give me hay fever in the summer. But I suppose Central Park can be pretty at times.”

  Having disposed of Central Park, she went back to her lunch.

  “I hear you were at the theater yesterday, Fay,” said Doc Dyer.

  Fay didn’t bother asking how he knew that. The way news got around the island would always be a mystery to her. Whether it was smoke signals or WhatsApp groups, the fact remained that everyone knew everyone else’s business.

  “That’s right. I went to ask about the gun that was used to shoot Mrs. Saville.”

  “Gun?” said Laetitia. “I thought she was poisoned.”

  “No, she was killed by a gun fired at the spring fair on Sunday evening. The poisoning might be connected, or it might not. But it was a bullet that killed her.” Fay turned to Doc Dyer. “The gun was dry-fired on stage by Pippa Brand who was playing Little Red Riding Hood. She fired it at Raymond Garver - the big bad wolf. Nothing went wrong at that stage. Raymond then took charge of the gun because he’s the theatrical director. He locked it into the prop room and went back to the fair, taking the key with him. The trouble is that Pippa also has a copy of the key and there’s a spare copy hanging in the office, which is sometimes locked.”

  “So, anyone could have unlocked the prop room and taken the gun?” said Doc.

  “Do either of you know anything about Raymond and Pippa?” Fay asked. “Because when I got there, they were having a massive fight. Raymond accused Pippa of trying to kill him by firing the gun at him on stage, even though she was just doing what they had rehearsed. He said she wanted to get rid of him so that she could be the theatrical director instead.”

  Laetitia laughed. “That’s the most improbable motive for murder I’ve ever heard. I can’t imagine anyone trying to kill someone else, so they could take over the local amateur dramatic society. Why, it’s absurd”

  “There’s more to it than that,” said David. “Raymond and Pippa were in a relationship a few years ago. It didn’t end well. Do you remember that, Dad?”

  “Of course. It was a scandal that rocked the island. People talked about nothing else for weeks. When was it, David? About five years ago?”

  “A little more, I think. I was still living overseas. I heard about it when I came home to visit.”

  “What happened?” asked Fay.

  Laetitia rolled her eyes. “Are we really going to go over some tawdry little scandal that occurred more than five years ago?”

  “It could be relevant to Mrs. Saville’s death. I want to hear about it.”

  “Raymond and Pippa were both married,” said David as Laetitia huffed out a sigh. “But not to each other. They worked closely together for the Am-Dram Society. That’s Amateur Dramatics,” he translated for Fay. “Then he and Pippa started having an affair that went on for a few years. Quite a few people knew about it, but no one knew for sure if their spouses knew. Raymond was crazy about Pippa, wasn’t he, Dad?”

  “He certainly was. He wanted to marry her. She gave him an ultimatum. She said he had to tell his wife about them and move out of the house. Then she would break up her own marriage and they could finally be together.”

  “And did he do it?”

  “Without hesitation,” said Doc. “His marriage imploded in a very messy way and his wife moved back to Devon to live with her mother.”

  “And then what happened? Did Pippa leave her husband?”

  David took over the story. “This is where it gets interesting. She didn’t leave him. She announced that she and her husband were going to try again, and she broke up with Raymond.”

  “So, having forced Raymond to destroy his own marriage, she announced that she was going to try to save hers?” Fay could see how some angry passions would be stirred up in a situation like that.

  “That’s right. Raymond tried to reconcile with his wife, but things were too unpleasant between them and she wasn’t interested. They got divorced a couple of months later.”

  “And Pippa? Are she and her husband still together?”

  David looked at his father for enlightenment. “I have no idea.”

  “The marriage limped on for a few years, but they also got divorced in the end.”

  “Wow.” Fay thought back to the argument she had heard Raymond and Pippa having the day before. All that time she had thought they were arguing about who deserved to be theatrical director, they were actually arguing about something completely different. Or, at least, their animosity stemmed from something different.

  “I understand now why they seemed so furious with each other. But I don’t see how it relates to Mrs. Saville. The fact remains that someone took that gun, loaded it with one bullet, pointed it at Mrs. Saville, and pulled the trigger.”

  “If we’re quite finished with the local gossip,” said Laetitia. “I would like to ask David a question.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry, Laetitia. We’ve been talking about people you know nothing about. What did you want to ask me?”

  “There’s a patient that I’m having trouble diagnosing that I’d like your opinion on. A sixty-two-year-old woman with a history of heart disease. She presented with pain and swelling in her right ankle, but I could find no physiological cause for it. It seemed to be some form of chronic regional pain syndrome, so I started her on a multidisciplinary course of treatment. Statins for her heart, anti-inflammatories for the pain, physiotherapy to mobilize the leg, and some light exercise and a change of diet. She hasn’t responded to treatment, and the ankle remains hot and swollen. I’m wondering if there’s something I’m missing. Could there be a deep vein involvement that we didn’t see on ultrasound?”

  Fay finished her stew as she watched them talk. The expression on David’s face was one of total absorption. He gave Laetitia his full attention, apparently fascinated by the case she laid out before him. He replied by suggesting a venogram, and she countered with more questions.

  For the first time, Fay understood what had brought them together and why their relationship had lasted. It was a powerful bond, this fascination with the medical world. Their minds met on a level that she could not follow. Doc Dyer might believe that they weren’t well suited as a couple, but they certainly had this in common.

  Chapter 14

  There was something therapeutic about watching kittens play.

  Fay had finished her paperwork for the afternoon just as the kittens woke up from a long nap. Now she sat in her bedroom watching them chase each other around. They loved to lay ambushes for each other, hiding behind corners and wiggling their furry little butts as they prepared to pounce. Then they tore around the room, using the bed as part of their crazy obstacle course. They flung themselves at the cat trees and scratching posts, stropping their tiny claws energetically before another pounce made them take off again.

  The only adult cat among them was Sprite, who had gone from total indifference towards the kittens to becoming part of their gang. She was small and gentle, so they had no fear of her. They included her in their games as though she were one of them.

  Fay felt her worries melt away as she watched the tiny bodies bounding around.

  “Come in,” she said as there was a knock at the door.

  The door opened slowly, and a foot appeared in the gap. The owner of the foot clearly knew all about the escape-artist tendencies of the kittens.

  “It’s okay, Mor,” said Fay. “They’re too busy running around to think about escaping.”

  The door opened wider and Morwen inserted herself into the room.

  “It’s like the Kentucky Derby in here.”

  “I know. I could sit and watch them all day. Unfortunately, that’s not an option.”

  “I came to ask about those apple turnovers you made for tea. Should I whip up some cream
to go with them?”

  “Already done. There’s a jug of whipped cream in the kitchen next to a jug of homemade custard. It struck me as a custard sort of afternoon.”

  The bad weather that arrived at lunchtime showed no signs of letting up. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and the wind continued to hurl flurries of rain against the windows.

  “I hope you haven’t caught a cold from sitting in wet clothes while you were having lunch with the Dyers.”

  “I hope so too, Mom,” said Fay.

  Morwen just smiled and shook her head. “What are you up to this afternoon?”

  “I need to have an awkward conversation. Laurie Tennith is convinced that the person Mrs. Saville met at her first Rotary Club meeting was Martin Trenowyth.”

  “And you’re going to come right out and ask him? That certainly will be awkward.”

  “I’ve made an appointment at the vet to speak to him about when would be the appropriate time to give the kittens their final vaccinations before they go to their new homes, and also when to have them spayed and neutered.”

  “But you know all that stuff. Your grandmother kept a schedule of when to do what.”

  “I know, but I need an excuse to talk to him and that was the best I could come up with.”

  “What are you going to do if he denies being Mrs. Saville’s big secret?”

  “That depends on whether or not I believe him. If not, I’ll have to think of a way to force him to be honest.”

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you. I’m going to warm up the apple turnovers and the custard now. See you in the lounge for tea?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

  Morwen left Fay to her thoughts. The kittens were slowing down and showing signs of sleepiness. Soon they would be piled up in a furry heap. When they woke again, it would be for the dinner that Morwen would bring them at five o’clock.