All is Fair

by All is Fair (retail) (epub)

  ‘Three years later, I discovered my mother’s body one morning when I took her a cup of tea before going off to work. She was hardly forty-five yet she looked years older, just a shadow of her once happy self. She’d taken an overdose of sleeping tablets. She’d left me a note telling me how much she loved me but saying that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get over Kenny’s death and life didn’t have any meaning for her any longer. Dicky Otterman might not have personally killed her, but he was responsible all the same. I made a vow then to avenge both her and my brother’s deaths. I wanted no less than like for like. Until Dicky Otterman was dead and was no longer around to hurt anyone else to get his own way, then I wouldn’t rest.

  ‘Cut a long story short, it took me several weeks and hundreds of miles of travelling and I lost count of the number of fairs I visited, but finally I met someone who knew where Otterman was working, at a fair called Grundy’s. My plan was that I would get a job with them as a casual worker so that I’d be able to keep a close eye on him and work out how I was going to get my revenge. I wasn’t worried about Dicky recognising me when I did finally come face to face with him, as he’d only seen me for a couple of minutes when I’d caught him by Kenny’s bike, and since then I’d grown from a skinny nineteen-year-old lad into a man.

  ‘I couldn’t believe my luck when I approached Sam Grundy for a job to hear he’d a vacancy for a mechanic and also a stunt rider if I was willing to learn – which of course I was – on the Wall of Death team under the very man I was seeking revenge on.’

  He eyed Julie searchingly for a moment before he said, ‘You’ll have realised by now that it was me that caused the other two accidents Dicky had before his fatal one. I thought it’d be ironic justice if he met his end the same way as he had brought about my brother’s, only I didn’t quite loosen the bolt on the front wheel enough for it to come off the first time, so he was able to steer it further down the wall before he fell off and only dislocated his shoulder. It was me that greased the wall too, only miraculously he again escaped with just cuts and bruises. The man seemed to have nine lives. But the third time I was determined to succeed.

  ‘I knew that putting sand in the petrol tank would cause the engine to suddenly seize, but I also knew that the police would soon discover it during their investigation and realise it was no accident, and that as it was me who took care of most of the maintenance, the finger would soon be pointed, especially if they checked my background and discovered what had happened to Kenny. So, knowing Dicky always used the same practice bike, I decided to make a replica, without sand in the tank, of course, which I could use as a replacement for the one Dicky had been riding. All I had to do was make sure that only I was present at the time, so that I could swap the bikes over unobserved. I planned to hide the bike Dicky had been riding under a tarpaulin on the back of my trailer, and get rid of it at the first opportunity. I was sure this plan couldn’t fail, and I would have got away with it too if you hadn’t happened to notice the bent handlebar.’

  He paused for a moment and looked at her apologetically. ‘I’m so very sorry that you witnessed what you did, but it wasn’t often that all the other lads were off elsewhere at the same time, so it was either do it then or wait God knows how long for another opportunity to arise.’

  He wrung his hands, shaking his head sadly. ‘I thought that finally avenging my brother and mother would bring me some kind of peace, but it hasn’t. It hasn’t lessened the pain of missing them one iota. I will go on missing them until the day I die myself.’ He raised his head and spoke with conviction. ‘But I’m not sorry that arrogant swine is no longer around to blight any more lives. I don’t suppose many people who knew him shed a tear when word got around of his death. The rest of the team have never been happier since he’s been gone. I even heard that miserable bugger Ray whistling a merry tune the other day as he was cleaning his bike ready for a performance. I’ve never seen you as happy as you are either, and if you’re honest you’ll admit that.’ He heaved a deep sigh and looked steadily at her for several long moments before he said, ‘Well, now you know I purposely killed your husband. No matter how much he deserved it, I can’t expect you to turn a blind eye. I’ll turn myself in to the police.’

  Julie was utterly overwhelmed by Speedy’s story and in turmoil as to how she actually felt about it. Part of her condemned him for deliberately planning to take someone’s life, no matter what the reason; the other part sympathised with him. Wouldn’t she herself feel like murdering the person who had purposely brought about the death of her beloved brother and been responsible for the early demise of her mother? Dicky must have realised the damage that could be caused by loosening the front wheel of Kenny’s bike, given the speed it would be travelling. Knowing him as well as she had come to over their eight years together, she didn’t doubt that he was capable of doing what Speedy was accusing him of. But then was it right that a man who had deliberately planned to murder another be let off scot free? If Speedy told the police what he had done, he’d go to prison for at least twenty-five years.

  She shut her eyes tight, her whole body sagging. She had never faced such a difficult decision in all her life, and in truth she never wanted to again. She sat for an age debating the whys and wherefores, the rights and wrongs, feeling she was damned if she didn’t and damned if she did. Still unsure, she finally opened her eyes and looked hard at Speedy. She saw a nice, polite, unassuming man, a man she had considered might become a serious fixture in her life in the future, who had been driven to do what he had because Dicky would never have been brought to justice otherwise and would have been left at liberty to blight others’ lives if he so chose. Hadn’t she herself feared for her life at times when his rage had seen him lose control of his mind?

  Whether what she was about to do was right or wrong, she had made her decision.

  Taking a deep breath, she spoke quietly. ‘I don’t want you to go to the police, Speedy. I’m not condoning what you did to my husband in any way whatsoever, but no purpose would be served by you going to prison. I know you’re not a danger to anyone else.’

  He looked at her in astonishment for several long moments before his body sagged in relief. ‘Oh Julie,’ he choked, ‘I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem enough for what you’re prepared to do for me.’ He heaved a deep sigh and said sorrowfully, ‘It will be best all round if I leave Grundy’s, won’t it?’

  She nodded. ‘I wasn’t happy with Dicky,’ she said. ‘For most of our married life I was living in fear of him, but he was still my husband and I can’t work alongside the man who killed him, carrying on like normal.’

  He nodded in agreement. ‘I can appreciate that.’

  He was now looking tenderly at her and she knew that he was about to declare his love for her, and that she couldn’t bear to hear, knowing that had she not discovered the part Speedy had played in her husband’s death, then she could have ended up unwittingly married to his killer. She said hurriedly, ‘I’ll explain to Mr Grundy and the rest of the team that you had to leave suddenly for private reasons and ask him to see about getting someone to replace you. I’m going now, to leave you to pack up. I do wish you well, Speedy.’

  His voice was loaded with regret when he responded. ‘You too, Julie.’

  She went back to her van, her heart breaking, though she wasn’t actually sure who her tears were for. For Dicky, whose arrogance and greed had got him killed? For Speedy, and what he had experienced at the hands of her husband that had made him turn to murder himself? Or perhaps for herself, for the losses she had suffered: firstly Dicky, not the man he had turned out to be but the man she had believed she was marrying and the wonderful life she had thought was in store for her; and secondly Speedy, and the loss of the life she might have had with him had she not discovered he had murdered her husband.

  Chapter Twenty One

  While Julie was sobbing her heart out in her own van, only yards away Jenny was in her parents’ van,
about to confide in her mother and terrified about what the outcome would be.

  As soon as Gem realised that whatever her daughter had come to talk to her about was something deeply concerning, she abandoned the dinner preparations and sat Jenny down at the kitchen table. For the last couple of minutes she had been sitting opposite her, worriedly watching as Jenny, her head bowed, nervously twisted her hands together.

  ‘You’re really worrying me now, love,’ she said eventually. ‘Come on, tell me what’s troubling you.’

  Jenny heaved a deep breath. ‘It’s just so difficult. I know that once I tell you, you’re going to hate me and never want to see me again.’

  Gem looked stunned. ‘Nothing you tell me will ever make me hate you,’ she said emphatically. ‘Mothers love their children no matter what. Now, what it is? Have you pocketed some of the ride takings for that new dress you bought for your date tonight with Tom and now can’t live with yourself?’

  Jenny raised troubled eyes to her mother. ‘I wish that was it, believe me I do.’ She took a deep breath, still nervously twisting her hands together, and falteringly began. ‘I’ve had a visitor today. Gwendoline Robertson, her name is. She was the nurse who called in every day to see to… my other mum when she was nearing the end. It was such a dreadful time. Knowing that there was going to be no miracle cure and all she had to look forward to was her pain getting worse, leading to an agonising death. I just prayed that she wouldn’t linger and death would come quickly.’

  She paused for a moment, and it was clear to Gem that reliving this awful time in her life was causing her great grief.

  ‘I had no idea until Gwen told me this morning that Mum had begged her to put her out of her misery. Gwen told her that although she really did sympathise with her, it was against the oath she had taken when she had begun her nursing training. Anyway, a few days later she was getting her medical bag ready when she noticed a bottle of morphine was missing. She had visited quite a few patients that day, all terminally ill and suffering as much as Mum was, and any of the people present when she visited could have taken it. She would have been in trouble for allowing that to happen, so she told her boss that she had accidentally broken the bottle. That night Mum died, and I hadn’t seen Gwen since the funeral so was surprised when she turned up out of the blue today.

  ‘She’d come to tell me she was emigrating to Australia. I couldn’t understand why she had taken all the time and trouble to find me and tell me that. But I soon found out. She needs money to help her get settled when she arrives. Two thousand pounds. I told her that I hadn’t money like that to loan her and couldn’t understand why she would think I had. It was then she told me that if I didn’t give it to her, she would tell you and Dad that it was me who had stolen the bottle of morphine and used it to kill my mother. She said you wouldn’t want a murderer living amongst you and wouldn’t want anything more to do with me. So I either gave her the money or she’d make sure I lost my family.’

  Tears of misery fell from her eyes and she wrung her hands. ‘To lose you all now… I can’t bear the thought of it, Mum. I love you all so much. I have to be honest and tell you that it did cross my mind to take the money from the safe and make it look like we’d had a robbery, but I couldn’t do that to you and live with myself afterwards. I could have let Gwen come here and tell you all this herself, but then I worried that even if you sent her packing, it would be like she said, that you’d always be wondering whether I really was a murderer and might do it again to one of you. I can’t live like that either.’

  Gem reached a hand across to lay it on top of Jenny’s and said quietly, ‘It was you who took that bottle of morphine, wasn’t it, love?’

  Jenny nodded slowly. ‘Yes, it was. After Gwen refused to help her put an end to her misery, my mother’s only option was to ask me. She begged me, in fact. At first I refused. I was beside myself that she would think I could do such a thing, but then she made me see that if I truly loved her, I would. We’d have put a dog down by then for being in less pain than she was. She was on the highest doses of morphine that she could safely be given, but it was hardly taking the edge off her pain. It was so distressing for me to watch her fighting not to scream out in agony every time she had an attack, which by then was often, so in the end I agreed. It was the least I could do for her.

  ‘Gwen was coming in four times a day to give Mum her medicine, and stood over her while she took it, so it wasn’t possible for us to put those doses aside to make up one final fatal one. Besides, she needed all the morphine Gwen was giving her. So I came up with a plan that while Gwen was occupied with Mum the next time she called, I would take a full bottle of morphine from her bag, empty it into another bottle, then fill it up with glycerine mixed with water and replace it. I never thought about the poor person who wouldn’t be getting their pain relief; all I cared about then was helping my mother end her suffering. Only I never got the chance to replace the bottle, as when I came back from the kitchen ready to slip it back into Gwen’s bag, she was already closing it up and making ready to leave. All I could do now was deny stealing it if I was ever accused and hope that Mum’s death so soon after its disappearance was put down as a coincidence. When nothing happened – no visit from Gwen herself or the police about the missing bottle – I thought somehow she hadn’t noticed it had gone from her bag and that I’d got away with it.’

  A faint smile settled on her lips, her eyes glazing distantly. ‘Knowing that she was finally going to be released from her terrible suffering, that day my mum was at peace with the world. As much as her pain would allow her to talk, she told me how much she loved me and how much joy I had brought into her life, my father’s too. She had missed Dad so much since he’d died and firmly believed that she was going to join him again. Gwen made her visits as usual that day and we acted normally so as not to give her any hint that something was afoot. Mum was eating very little by then, but I made her some of her favourite soup and she enjoyed the couple of spoonfuls she managed. We spent the rest of the day talking over the good times we had shared and looking at old photographs.

  ‘We hadn’t settled on a time for the deed; I knew she would tell me when she was ready, and just before nine, she did. I fetched the bottle and helped her place it to her lips to drink it, then I lay on the bed beside her, holding her in my arms, talking softly to her, telling her how much I loved her and to tell Dad the same when she met up with him very soon, until I knew she was gone. She looked so at peace and she had a smile on her face. Funny, but I didn’t cry, not then, as this was what Mum had wanted and I was just glad I’d found the strength to grant her final wish to bring her suffering to an end.’

  Her story finished, Jenny lifted her eyes and look at Gem, but she couldn’t tell from her expression whether she was disgusted, appalled, horrified by what her daughter had done, or whether she felt it had been the right thing.

  She started to ask, but Gem stopped her by holding up her hand in a warning gesture. ‘Where is this woman now?’

  ‘Woman? Oh, the nurse, Gwen. She’s in my van, waiting for the money. She thinks that’s what I’m doing here, getting it from your safe. But Mum—’

  Gem held up her hand again, then scraped back her chair and stood up. ‘I’d like a chat with her.’

  Jenny froze, heart hammering painfully in her chest. Was her mother going to ask Gwen to go to the police with her and have Jenny arrested for murder?

  Gem had already left the van, and prepared for her fate, Jenny went after her.

  Gem didn’t knock on Jenny’s van door but marched straight in. Gwen jumped up off the sofa and blurted, ‘If you’re looking for Jenny—’

  Gem cut her short. ‘Your name is Gwen?’

  The woman frowned, perplexed, and said warily, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then it’s you I’m looking for. Let me introduce myself. I’m Gemma Grundy, Jenny’s natural mother.’ She looked Gwen up and down before she went on. ‘So… you’re trying to blackmail my daughter out of two t
housand pounds. You do know that that is a criminal offence?’

  Neither Gem nor Gwen noticed Jenny arrive and hover just inside the door, filled with trepidation that either she would shortly be taken to the nearest police station to be charged with murder, or told by her mother to pack her bags and never darken her door again.

  Gwen looked agog at Gem. She had expected Jenny’s natural mother, despite being married to the owner of a fair, to be an ignorant, down-at-heel gypsy sort, but this woman was anything but. She was presentable and articulate, and it was clear that her schooling hadn’t been a courtesy of the state. She blurted, ‘Blackmail! No, certainly not. I was… I… er—’

  Gem interjected, ‘Well I don’t know what it’s called where you hail from, but as far as I’m concerned, threatening to ruin someone’s life if they don’t pay you money is called blackmail.’ She folded her arms across her shapely chest, looking fixedly at Gwen. ‘Jenny has told me you’re accusing her of murdering her adoptive mother with an overdose of morphine that went missing from your medical bag. Did you personally witness Jenny taking that bottle of morphine out of your bag?’

  Gwen looked uncomfortable. ‘Well… no,’ she stuttered. ‘But it was a bit of a coincidence that her adoptive mother died that night when she was expected to live for a few more weeks yet.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you go to the police and tell them your suspicions at the time?’

  The nurse shuffled even more uncomfortably. ‘Well… I… er—’

  ‘You didn’t go to the police because there was absolutely no suspicion that Jenny’s mother had died from anything other than the cancer that was ravaging her body, and it only struck you that you could use this to blackmail her with when you decided to emigrate and needed to get your hands on a sum of money to help you settle in Australia. Besides, you had already covered up the missing bottle to your bosses by telling them you had broken it. To then admit that you lied… well, you could be struck off for that and your career as a nurse ended.