Rivaled in Murder

by Helen Gray

  A vision of her mother in Hercules Poirot garb and peering through a huge magnifying glass floated through Toni's brain. She grinned. “I’ll see you a little after three-thirty.”

  *

  Monday morning was a marathon. The students were restless and inattentive, Toni assumed from being confined so much due to the bitter cold. Whatever the cause, it was tiring, and frustrating, for the staff.

  “Ouch!” Toby Mulligan shook his hand and jerked it to his chest after waving it through the fire of the Bunsen burner.

  Toni squelched the desire to oust him from the class and moved to stand next to him at the work counter. This was far from the first time he had disrupted lab with his foolishness. She reached over and examined his hand. There was a slight reddish area on the palm. “I’ll give you a hall pass to go see the nurse.”

  “It’ll be all right,” he said, pulling the hand back.

  “I didn’t ask if you want to go. I said I’ll write a pass so you can go, meaning you will go,” she finished firmly. She would also write up a report, and it would include the fact that the student had been goofing off and ignoring instructions.

  Visions of retirement danced in her head.

  When she and her mother arrived at the nursing home that afternoon, Toni let her mother lead the way inside and to the nurse’s station. “We would like to speak to Nurse Ebert,” Faye said to the nurse on duty. “Can you tell us when that would be possible?”

  The older nurse smiled. “You’re getting quite regular around here, Nash. It’s always good to see you. I’ll tell Connie you want to talk to her on her break.” She glanced up at the wall clock. “It should be coming up in about ten minutes.”

  “We’ll wait in the break room,” Faye said. She beckoned for Toni to follow her.

  “Let’s play dumb bunnies,” she said when they were seated, her expression a mix of determination and wry humor.

  They had to wait fifteen minutes. The plump, mid-forties nurse who entered the small room was stern-faced and frowning. “Alta said you two want to talk to me. I don’t have much time, so it’ll have to be quick.” Her voice was gruff and tinged with self-importance.

  “We have some questions,” Faye said when Toni nodded for her to take the lead. “After Mavis Thornton’s death, an autopsy was performed. And I’m told that the dear woman experienced a heart attack caused by an air embolism.”

  “What’s an air embolism?” Toni asked, hoping her dumb bunny act was good enough to satisfy her mother.

  The nurse’s whole body suddenly radiated hostility. “It’s when air gets in a vein or artery. As it’s going along the circulatory system it gets caught in a smaller vessel in the heart and acts like a solid object, and stops circulation when it gets lodged. But this is information I suspect you already know,” she said at the end of her rapid fire recitation, glaring at Toni. “And I’m sure you do, Nurse Nash,” she added, shifting her glare to Faye.

  Toni had watched the woman’s expression and eyes as her voice rose. Nurse Ebert was definitely a tougher cookie than her cousin-by-marriage, Delia. And she had expertise that Delia did not, expertise that Delia might not even fully realize the way it was being used in their insurance scheme. That would have to be determined.

  Toni kept her dumb bunny face in place. “Can you tell us how such a thing could be deliberately caused?”

  “No one would do such a thing,” the nurse snapped back angrily.

  “Why did you have a life insurance policy on Mavis?” Faye asked, suddenly becoming anything but meek.

  The nurse’s face turned red. “You have no way of knowing such a thing, and even if you did, it’s none of your business,” she said coldly. “If this is all you called me in here about, you can just leave. Or I can have you escorted out.” She whirled and clomped out of the room, her soft soled shoes not making the noise she probably would have liked.

  Faye looked over at Toni, her mouth in a grim line. “I’d like to talk to Delia, but she’s not working today. Do you think we should find Buck?”

  “We probably should confess,” Toni said, enjoying her mother’s determined sleuthing, in spite of the gravity of the situation.

  “Well, what have you two been up to?” the police chief demanded when Faye tapped on his office door and peeked inside a few minutes later.

  Faye marched on in, and Toni followed less aggressively. She took the seat next to her mother. When Buck’s gaze locked on her, she shrugged and nodded at Faye.

  Toni thought she saw his mouth move slightly at the corners, but couldn’t be sure. He did, however, focus his attention on her mother. “What do you have for me, Faye?”

  In a clinical way she explained about the family relationship she had discovered between Delia Cunningham and Connie Ebert.

  Buck leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a steeple beneath his chin. “So you think Delia gets the patients to sign the insurance forms, and Connie wields the syringe. Is that what I’m to deduce from all you’ve just told me?”

  Faye nodded. “I think that’s how their scheme works.”

  He pondered for several moments, his eyes narrowing. “How much meddling have you done since figuring out all this?”

  Toni observed some of the starch drain from her mother’s posture, but didn’t intercede.

  “Well, we went to the nursing home,” Faye said less confidently.

  “Did you talk to the nurse, or the aide, or both?”

  “The nurse,” she said with a return of assurance.

  His mouth pursed. “How did she respond?”

  Suddenly Faye laughed. “She was mad as blazes and stormed out of the room.”

  He glared at them and started to speak, but paused. After several more moments he said, “If I tell you something, will you promise to butt out and let me handle it?”

  Faye’s head bobbed, and Toni gave him a brief nod.

  He exhaled slowly. “We’ve discovered another case. In examining Delia’s finances, we found that she had another sizable bank deposit several months ago. The death of Harold Turner earlier that week led us to search for any insurance payouts on him. Delia had a policy on him. It also listed her as his stepdaughter.

  “Which gives her insurable interest in the man,” Toni mused softly to herself.

  “That’s right,” Buck agreed, his hearing sharper than she realized. “We’re still looking for any more deaths connected to policies held by those gals. I hate to run out on you two,” he said, picking up his hat, “but I have an appointment.”

  Tuesday morning at the beginning of second hour, Ken Douglas entered Toni’s classroom as she finished taking roll. He went to a vacant desk at the back of the room and sat, a notepad and pen in his hand.

  Their superintendent who had been killed year before last had insisted that scheduled evaluations resulted in nothing more than dog and pony shows, and that all evaluations had to be made unannounced. Toni didn’t completely disagree, but the return to knowing when she was to be observed did enable her to not include anything in the day’s lesson that Toby could damage or destroy.

  This wasn’t good timing, though, simply because she was already feeling overloaded—and wondering how she could keep up with all her responsibilities. It was a relief when the class ended.

  That evening they had just finished supper when her cell phone rang.

  “You can’t ignore it,” Kyle said, taking the stack of plates from her hands. “Go on. I’ll load the dishwasher.”

  She answered on the fourth ring.

  "Mrs. Donovan, this is Melody. Mrs. Gunther just called me from the hospital. She said Farris isn’t fully conscious, but he’s been mumbling, and she recognized him saying mine and Zoe’s names. She thinks he's asking for us. We’re meeting at the hospital in twenty minutes."

  Toni heard the unasked question in the girl’s tone. She covered the receiver with a hand and faced Kyle. "Is there any reason I can’t make a run to the hospital?"

  When he shook his head, she
uncovered the receiver. "If you want, I'll visit Farris with you."

  The girl thanked her and disconnected.

  At the hospital, Toni met Zoe and Melody in the lobby. Together they took the elevator to the floor where Mrs. Gunther had told them Farris was being kept. They exited and approached the nurses' station.

  The heavyset nurse in charge looked up from the chart she was studying. "May I help you?"

  Toni indicated herself and the girls. "We're here to see Farris Gunther. His mother called and said he's asking for his friends."

  The woman glanced at the girls and shook her head. "I'll have to get permission from his doctor and parents. Please have a seat in the waiting room. I'll come for you if you’re approved."

  Toni led the way to the waiting room just down the hall. In typical fashion, the furniture in this one consisted of several well-worn but comfortable looking chairs, a matching sofa, and an oversized coffee table strewn with dog-eared magazines. An area rug covered the center of the room.

  They had sat in tense silence for about five minutes when the nurse returned. "Our young patient is still in serious condition,” she explained in a lecturing manner. “He's agitated and not coherent enough to visit with you, but his parents seem to think that the presence of his friends could calm him. Please don't stay more than ten minutes."

  "We won't." Toni looked to the girls, and they nodded agreement.

  Zoe reached over and grasped Melody's left hand. Melody used her free one to grip one of Toni's as they entered their friend's room as a unit. The parents sat slumped in chairs by the bed where Farris lay pale and still. Bandages wound around his head, a few dark strands of hair protruding from beneath them. Machines beeped and blipped, and there was an IV connected to his hand.

  Both parents raised tired puffy eyes. The mother managed a weak smile. She looked to be in her early forties, black hair, probably of Italian descent. The dad appeared several years older, gray haired, and overweight.

  Mrs. Gunther’s gaze locked on the girls. "Thank you for coming. You are the friends Farris calls the angels of mercy and joy?"

  They nodded, staring over at Farris. Then they each released the hand they held and moved to opposite sides of the bed near his shoulders. Toni edged to the foot of the bed.

  "We're here, Farris." Zoe's swords were almost a whisper.

  He showed no sign that he heard.

  "You mother said you want to see us," Melody said just as quietly. "Your hand is cold." She rubbed it between both of hers while tears trickled down her cheeks.

  He stirred and pulled both hands free. They moved in a restless motion over his chest. "An ...shels ...a mer ...she ...an shoy," he mumbled, his speech slurred and weak. "They ...huuut you."

  Melody smiled through her tears and turned to his mother. "He said angels of mercy and joy. He knows us."

  Zoe squeezed his hand. "Who hurt us, Farris? Are you trying to tell us who did it?"

  His throat moved as he tried to speak again and failed. His head moved ever so slightly. "Es," he finally croaked in a thick, drugged voice.

  Toni observed the interaction between the girls and their friend as they strained to understand him. The boy seemed to recognize and hear them, even though his eyes never opened. She didn't know much about the kind of boy Farris was, but he didn't deserve to be here in this condition. Bile rose in her throat at thoughts of the carnage someone had wrought in the past few days.

  Zoe edged closer and placed a hand on his arm. "Farris, you have to tell us who it is so they can be stopped. Did the same persons hurt you?"

  He swallowed and moved his head slowly from one side to the other. His eyes still never opened. "Hit ...caa. Ha ...gun."

  "Someone hit your car. That's right. That's what the police thought. Who had the gun?" Melody reached out to touch his shoulder, her face twisted and tear tracked.

  Mrs. Gunther stepped to the bed and placed her hand over his brow. "Relax, Son. Just relax and enjoy having your friends with you. You need to rest."

  "An ...shel," he murmured, running his tongue over dry lips. "An ...shel." He paused. "An ...shel ... an ...shel ...a ...desh."

  Mrs. Gunther gasped and buried her face in her hands. Her body shook.

  Toni caught a flash of something crossing Zoe's face, but couldn't interpret it. A frigid chill of foreboding raced up her spine.

  The door opened, and the nurse returned. Sounds of voices, moving wheels, a ringing phone, drifted through the doorway with her.

  "I'm sorry, ladies, but your ten minutes are up, and your friend needs to rest."

  Each girl gave Farris a pat on the arm and stepped away from the bed. As they left the room, Mrs. Gunther exited with them, apparently overcome and needing to escape so Farris could not hear her crying. Her husband caught up with them in the hallway as she sagged against the wall, shaking with silent sobs.

  "What's the matter, Carmela?" her husband asked, wrapping an arm around her. "What happened?"

  The woman wiped at her eyes, clearly devastated. "He said the angel of death. He saw the angel of death. He thinks he's dying." She collapsed in his arms.

  Toni went to their aid, placing an arm across the woman's shoulders from the opposite side. Together she and Mr. Gunther guided his wife to the waiting room and onto the sofa.

  "Thank you," the man said, his eyes wet. "I'll take care of her. Thank you for coming."

  Toni looked him in the eye. "Mr. Gunther, I'm sure your wife is wrong. If your son was in that kind of distress, the doctors and nurses would recognize it and tell you. I wish there was more we could do."

  The man nodded, patting her hand. "I think you're right. The stress is getting to her."

  "We'll go so you can be alone with your son."

  When they reached the lobby, Toni stopped and faced the girls. "Mrs. Gunther thinks Farris said the angel of death hurt him. What did you think he said, Zoe?"

  Zoe frowned and gave her a blank look. "I don't know. He talks about angels all the time. His mother must have heard it right."

  Toni wasn't so sure. She directed her attention to Melody. “What about you?”

  Melody shrugged. “I don’t know any more than Zoe.”

  As they exited the building, puffs of mist formed in front of their mouths. Toni could hear the girls whispering behind her, but couldn’t distinguish their words.

  “Mrs. Donovan.” It was Zoe.

  Toni stopped for them to come alongside her. “What?”

  “Will you go with us to the police station to see if that detective will let us have our laptops back? There’s nothing on them that they can’t see from any computer, and we have to finish the reports we have saved on them. He might listen better if you're with us.”

  Toni weighed the request. “I doubt they’ll let you have them, but they can’t jail us for asking. I need to get back to my family as soon as possible, though. Why don't you both ride with me and save your gas?"

  When they entered the Brownville police station thirty minutes later, Toni approached the secretary at the front desk. “Hi, I'm Toni Donovan. Is anyone on duty who will talk to us about getting these girls’ confiscated computers back so they can finish their homework?”

  The woman shifted in her chair and pressed the intercom button. “Detective Allen, will you talk to Mrs. Donovan and two girls?”

  She paused and nodded. “I’ll send them back.” She released the button and pointed down the hall. “Second door on the right.”

  When they entered the detective’s office, Toni took a seat near his desk. The girls sat each side of her.

  The middle aged man leaned forward on the desk, his expression haggard. “What’s on your mind, Mrs. Donovan?”

  “I assume your technician has examined the computers that belong to these girls. They have unfinished schoolwork saved on them. May they have them back so they can complete their assignments?”

  He eased back in his chair, a hand going to his chin. “I understand, but I'm not sure we can release th
em. They could copy the files." He seemed to be talking to himself.

  "No," Zoe snapped, bouncing to her feet. “We need to finish and print our reports. We also need to do some online research. Those computers are ours, and we’ve done nothing wrong. You have no right to keep them.” Frustration and anger boiled from her.

  Toni placed a hand on her arm and motioned for her to sit. “She’s right. They haven’t used the machines for anything bad, and they need them.”

  Zoe sat with a thump.

  Detective Allen glared at them, but then he relented. “All right,” he growled. “I told the technician to make copies of all the files that seemed relevant. I’ll check to be sure it’s been done. If it has, I'll have someone bring them here."

  He picked up the phone and made the calls. When he finished, he eyed them across the desk. “The copies have been made. They’ll be delivered shortly.”

  Toni figured she should be polite, so she thanked him graciously, and then continued. “In case you’re interested, the Gunther boy is coming around. He’s disoriented and not making a lot of sense, but he’s trying to talk.” She hoped offering the detective some news might placate him into reciprocating.

  His sour expression softened a bit. “I’ll get right over to the hospital and talk to him.”

  “Can you tell us whether you’ve made any progress on the case?” Toni asked carefully.

  Allen leaned forward again, his eyes darting from her to each of the girls. Toni feared he was going to tell her to get lost, but he didn’t.

  “We’ve been tracing the Fisher girl’s movements the last twenty-four hours of her life. She attended school Monday and stayed after for cheerleader practice. The last time anyone saw her was about four o’clock when she headed to the parking lot. Footprints at the crime scene tell us there was a scuffle. I agree with your chief’s theory that she hid out Tuesday and Wednesday, and then met someone Thursday afternoon. They got into a fight, and she ended up seriously injured and left to die. The blood on the rock found in the ditch was hers, so that is the murder weapon. It’s one of convenience, which indicates it wasn’t planned. We found no prints, so the killer was likely wearing gloves in this cold weather.”