And None Shall Sleep

by Priscilla Masters

  A deep scar along her cheek, an expression of chronic pain, stiffness in her arm as she gestured for the two detectives to sit down. And that was before Joanna allowed her gaze to wander down to the flatness beneath the blanket.

  But Molly Frost was a fighting woman and she met Joanna’s gaze without flinching.

  ‘So you’re Detective Inspector Piercy,’ she said, giving a quick glance to the pile of newspapers in the corner.

  Joanna nodded.

  ‘I’ve been reading about you. It seems you’ve had some success in solving local crime.’

  ‘I’ve had my share of luck,’ Joanna said guardedly, ‘so far. But I still don’t know what happened this time.’

  ‘So you come to me.’ Her hair was brown, curly and pretty. She stared at Joanna. ‘A wheelchair-bound woman with no legs and you’ve come to me?’

  Joanna was silent. Molly Frost gave a deep sigh. ‘You may have had your share of luck. And I've had more than my share of trouble. I don’t mourn Selkirk,’ she said slowly. ‘However awful his death, I don’t think any of us affected by that dreadful accident could possibly mourn him.’ She stopped and swallowed. ‘He took so much. The Carters lost their little daughter. And she was a nice kid. I lost my health and all our happiness too,’ she said. ‘Michael took it even worse than I did.’

  They were interrupted by a nurse walking in briskly. ‘Time for your morphine, Molly,’ she said and fiddled with a syringe connected to a tiny plastic pipe.

  Molly watched the nurse without emotion. ‘Morphine,’ I she said calmly. ‘I have it to control the pain in my smashed spine.’ Her eyes burned with an angry light. ‘And yet, the pain that I go through is nothing compared to what poor Michael suffered.’

  She stared first at Joanna and then at Mike. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘in my more fanciful moments, I imagine that Michael jumped out of the window so he could be like me, experience what I was living through, twisted and smashed. In pain. Broken. But that wasn’t it. He really did want to die.’ She closed her eyes for a few minutes. Neither of the two police spoke. When she looked at them again it was with a wry sarcasm. ‘The hospital compensated me, you know.’ She swallowed. ‘I was advised to sue for neglect.’

  ‘Who handled the case?’

  Molly Frost gave a painful twist to her face. ‘Not Selkirk,’ she said. ‘Another firm, O’Donnell’s.’ Her face hardened.

  ‘ “Make them pay,” he said, and got me legal aid to do it.’

  ‘How much was the award?’

  ‘Twelve thousand pounds.’ Molly Frost was fighting to regain control now. ‘For Michael. It was the final insult.’ She stopped, blinked. Tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my life story, did you?’ There was a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes. ‘You probably know it already.’

  Joanna nodded.

  Molly Frost gazed at her boldly. ‘Why did you come?’

  Joanna leaned closer, met the woman’s straight gaze. ‘What’s the connection between your husband’s suicide and Selkirk’s murder, Mrs Frost?’

  She looked surprised. ‘Is there a connection?’

  ‘We don’t know.’ Joanna decided to lob the ball straight into Molly Frost’s side of the court. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I’d like to think so,’ Molly said. ‘I really would. For that sweet little girl, Rowena ... for my poor, lost legs. And most of all for Michael’s life. I’d love to think that pig’s murder was some small down-payment for them. Unfortunately I don’t know.’ She fiddled with the blanket that should have covered her legs. ‘Tell me, Inspector.’ She swivelled the chair round to face Joanna. ‘The accident that broke your arm. Would you like revenge?’

  ‘How did you ...?’

  ‘It was in the local paper. So tell me. Would you?’

  And by comparing injuries Joanna had an inkling of what the two families had been through. She nodded dumbly.

  Molly Frost was waiting for her reply. ‘Someone shot him, didn’t they?’

  ‘Someone was paid to shoot him,’ Mike corrected brutally.

  ‘And you think it was me?’

  Neither police officer said a word.

  Molly sank back. ‘I see,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Did you have any contact with Yolande Prince after your husband’s suicide?’

  Molly Frost might have pretended she didn’t know who Yolande Prince was. Instead she nodded. ‘The poor little nurse. She didn’t let us down, did she?’ She looked at Mike. ‘I spoke to her after Michael died. She felt guilty.’ She hesitated, uncertain whether or not to speak the next sentence. ‘She felt it was her fault.’

  ‘Because she didn’t give him his drugs the night Michael died?’

  Molly nodded. ‘I told her I was the cause of his unhappiness, not her. She always promised she would do anything she could to help.’ Her face changed. ‘And it seems she must have done.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Joanna asked quietly.

  Molly shifted in her wheelchair. ‘She had something to do with it, didn’t she?’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘The Carters told me she was found dead. I’d read she’d been on duty in the hospital that night and put two and two together. The Carters have been very good,’ she said defensively. ‘They’ve become real friends. They often visit. And when they can’t come in they ring me.’ She motioned the telephone on the locker. ‘We have a lot in common. I was with their daughter of course when ...’ And even now Molly Frost couldn’t complete the sentence.

  Joanna watched Mike’s shoulders slump. But she still needed to probe.

  ‘What did your husband say in his final letter?’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’ Molly was angry now. ‘It was personal. Between me and Michael. For no one else’s eyes. And just for the record,’ she said, ‘I had nothing to do with Jonathan Selkirk’s murder.’

  They sat in Joanna’s office drinking coffee, contemplating each suspect one by one.

  ‘I don’t suppose the bank accounts have made things any easier for us?’ she said hopefully.

  Mike shook his head. ‘No large amounts moved from any of them.’

  ‘Oh well, I thought not. That would be too easy.’ She leaned forward, cupped her chin in her hand. ‘So what do you think about Molly?’

  Mike’s dark eyes were watching her. ‘She could have hired the killer.’

  He nodded. ‘She could,’ he agreed, guardedly.

  ‘In fact,’ Joanna pursued,’ she would have to have hired a killer. Because she couldn’t have done it herself.’

  ‘Why wait?’ he objected. ‘Her accident, her husband’s suicide. They all happened a long time ago. Why wait until now?’

  ‘Money, possibly,’ she suggested. ‘She’s just had all that compensation.’

  ‘But she couldn’t have killed Yolande.’

  Joanna shook her head. ‘No. That’s what’s bothering me. She fits in some ways. In others ... No, you’re right. She couldn’t have killed her, nor would she have wanted to. Her bitterness was solely for Selkirk. And she didn’t strike me as a malicious woman.’

  ‘But Yolande was only involved because of Selkirk’s heart attack. And didn’t Pugh say something about Gallini never changing a day? Wasn’t it that night or never?’

  ‘I still can’t see her planning the whole thing with Yolande, pretending he was to be punished, frightened. There’s something so much more vindictive, clever, even, about that. And it doesn’t seem like Molly Frost.’

  They were both silent for a moment before Joanna added slowly, ‘But Yolande would have done her bidding, wouldn’t she?’

  They both sat and thought of the small, plump woman confined to a wheelchair after that one, horrible accident. Both were anxious to move on to another suspect.

  ‘I suppose we’d better consider the Carters – both of them. Andy I don’t suspect,’ Joanna said slowly. ‘When he said he wouldn’t have hired someone else to kill Selkirk I believed him. It he
ld the ring of truth. He would have done it himself, five years ago, as just revenge for his daughter. And hang the consequences. I don’t see him planning something like this, Mike. Still less involving the nurse who had absolutely no connection with the Carter case. And again, why wait? If anything, their pain has dulled over the years, hasn’t it?’

  ‘But there’s always Mrs Carter.’

  Joanna drained her cup of coffee and set it down on the desk. ‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘She’s a possibility, but could she get her hands on ten thousand pounds?’

  Mike stood up, paced around the room, came to a halt in front of the desk. And as always she was uncomfortably aware of the burly policeman.

  ‘Sit down, for goodness, sake,’ she said irritably. ‘You make me nervous pacing around like a caged tiger.’

  He dropped into the armchair, protesting. ‘I don’t know how you can sit there, contemplating,’ he complained, ‘just rolling the pencil between your fingers.’

  She tapped her forehead. ‘All the work’s done inside here,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’m working just as hard. It’s just that you can’t see it.’

  He grinned too.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s try and put some logic behind our thinking. Whoever planned all this was ruthless enough to want Selkirk dead, so much so that the nurse was simply a disposable means to an end. So we’re looking here at a powerful hatred in a strong character.’

  ‘What about Pritchard?’

  She made a face. ‘Grandpa Tony? He might have hired a killer for Selkirk,’ she said. ‘He strikes me as the sort of man who wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty. The point is, Mike, could he have persuaded Yolande Prince to take Selkirk out of the hospital? Would she have let him visit her flat to explain?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Jo.’

  ‘They didn’t even know each other. And besides, what was in it for him?’

  ‘Marry Selkirk’s widow? She’s worth plenty of money.’ Joanna nodded. It was a possibility. ‘And another thing, Mike. He knew Selkirk was in hospital, didn’t he?’

  ‘So is he top of the list?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I can’t see it somehow.’ He paused, scowling. ‘I can’t picture him planning the whole thing so cleverly.’

  ‘And neither can I. So who does that leave us with?’

  ‘I suppose the rest of the family,’ he said slowly. ‘Wife, son, daughter-in-law?’

  ‘And the wife at least had the lot, didn’t she? Opportunity and money. But I can’t think why.’

  Mike laughed. ‘Maybe they just didn’t like him very much.’

  ‘Seems a good enough reason,’ she said with a smile then added thoughtfully, ‘what if the dislike went deeper than we realized?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He looked questioningly at her.

  ‘I don’t quite know,’ she confessed. ‘It’s just a vague idea at the moment.’

  ‘But she was quite open about not grieving for Selkirk.’

  ‘I know. But sometimes,’ she said slowly, ‘people conceal things with half-truths.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘She said she didn’t like him. She didn’t say she hated him, did she?’

  ‘Well, no. She didn’t.’

  ‘His son certainly didn’t hate him,’ she said. ‘He feared him. And as for the pregnant Teresa I got the distinct impression she was indifferent to her father-in-law.’

  ‘Not to Mrs Selkirk, though. They all seemed ...’

  ‘To cluster around her for guidance?’

  Mike nodded.

  ‘And lastly,’ she said, ‘we have that sweet character Wilde.’ Mike’s response was simply one word. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well ...’ she said slowly ‘... he thought the Fraud Squad might drop the case if his partner was dead.’

  ‘Weak,’ Mike objected. ‘That’s very weak.’

  She sighed. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ She looked up a second later. ‘His daughter, the Barbie doll?’

  ‘Again, why?’ He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘What if she planned the whole thing, Mike, strung him along, convincing him to give her money before setting up Gallini to despatch Selkirk. I can see her typing the threat. And what’s more, I can picture her visiting Yolande at her flat, too. What do you think of that for a theory?’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible. And she was supposed to be his adoring mistress. That’s the trouble with this job,’ he grumbled. ‘It destroys your faith in human nature. Especially women.’

  Joanna’s face softened with amusement. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘I like the idea of it being Miss Wilde.’

  ‘Sadist.’

  ‘What’s her first name?’

  ‘Can’t you guess?’ Mike grinned. ‘Samantha.’

  ‘So how am I doing, Mike?’

  ‘Not bad,’ he said, ‘for someone with a broken arm.’

  ‘So tomorrow,’ she promised, ‘we’ll pay a few visits.’

  Mike moved towards the door. ‘You want a lift home?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll stay here for a bit. I want to do some more thinking’

  ‘About Wilde?’

  ‘No, about Selkirk.’

  He closed the door gently.

  She sat very still for a moment. Selkirk had been a despicable character. Almost all he had touched had been warped by him. He had ruined the lives of two families and escaped unscathed through what he would have considered cleverness. When he had mown down Rowena Carter on the school crossing he had not thought of her, or of her family. There had been no remorse. He had thought only to save his own skin.

  Yolande Prince’s connection with Selkirk had been tenuous. She had been a shining nurse, loved by her family; her decency had been part of her. But there had been that one great trauma in her life, Michael Frost’s suicide. It had clouded the judgement of a warm, devoted person and his death could also be lain at Selkirk’s door. And that had proved to be Yolande’s own destruction too because it had left her with a weak spot which had been ruthlessly exploited.

  But by whom?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The station was eerily quiet that afternoon. Joanna was alone with the empty desks and blank computer screens, the piles of papers and chalked boards – all the debris of a major investigation.

  Matthew would be spending the day with Eloise and the knowledge made her feel even more excluded. So she prowled between the rows with a feeling of loneliness mounting inside her until she called a taxi to take her home.

  But even that was a mistake. At home she felt restless and fidgety, unable to settle all evening. One-handed, she managed to boil the kettle and make coffee, but preparing much of a meal was beyond her.

  What would she do with the luxury of a second hand? The plaster had become part of her, its heaviness hardly noticeable; even its bulk felt normal. The flashbacks of lorry wheels spinning towards her were fading. In the excitement of a murder inquiry the accident had receded into the background, but would it emerge as soon as she rode her bike again?

  She switched on the television. Luckily there was a lively play on, good enough to distract her from the case. Two glasses of red wine and an hour and a half later she was sleepy enough for bed. But once there she tossed and turned, her thoughts drifting from her own accident to Selkirk’s death, then on to the murder of the nurse. At about two a.m. she sat up.

  Mike turned up faithfully at eight thirty in the morning and quickly sensed something was on her mind. As soon as she was in the car he challenged her.

  ‘Come on, what is it?’

  ‘The Merry Widow,’ she said grimly. ‘I keep coming back to her. Why didn’t she leave him? Why did she stay? She didn’t have to. She was a professional woman and it wasn’t as though he shared a close relationship with his son.’

  ‘Why do you think she stayed?’

  ‘The only reason I’ve come up with that holds any water is his money. And habit – security. I can’t prove it, Mike,’ she said,
‘but I can build up a very convincing case against her. The whole thing seemed to fit into place at about two this morning’

  He laughed. ‘So a flash of inspiration has solved it?’

  Gravely she shook her head. ‘No, just raised a few more observations. She was prepared to tolerate Selkirk until he managed to find himself a mistress – of sorts. She must have thought herself quite safe from that threat at least, but Selkirk managed to surprise her even on that count. She’ll have worried she would lose everything. After all those years.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Mike was dubious. ‘But I would have thought she was the sort of woman who’d something a bit cleverer than simply hire a killer to do the job. She could have used poison, fiddled with the car. Something,’ he finished lamely.

  She shot him an amused glance. ‘And I thought I was the one with a degree in psychology.’

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘You’re the clever inspector while I’m the stupid sergeant.’

  She whisked her head towards him, never quite sure how much truth there was behind these seemingly idle jests. His face was expressionless.

  ‘There are a few more avenues of enquiry that would bear closer scrutiny,’ she said steadily.

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘The letter, Mike. What was the purpose of it? Could she have sent it? Where the hell is that report?’

  ‘I’ll chase it.’ He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions.’

  ‘Well, we do know that after three years it disturbed him enough to bring on a heart attack.’

  ‘It could have been coincidence.’

  ‘Come on, Mike.’ She didn’t even argue the point with him. ‘Then again, what part exactly did Yolande play? Was she an innocent dupe?’ She screwed her face up. ‘I can’t believe she was so stupid as to have anything to do with the abduction of her patient. But what alternative do we have?’

  Mike shrugged.

  ‘You see, I still fail to cast her in a completely guilty role. She can’t have known Selkirk was to be shot.’ She turned to face him. ‘Although I can imagine Sheila planning the whole thing, I can’t see Yolande being so stupid.’ She recalled the earnest, honest face with its clear complexion.