Murder for Good

by Veronica Heley

  ‘Understandable,’ said Ellie, looking to see if there were any packets of medication in sight.

  Gwen said, ‘I keep going over and over it. Flashbacks, they call it. I put my key in the front door and call out “Yoohoo!” and then I bump into the table and the vase falls and breaks and I go up the stairs and there he is, lying in bed with his bedside light on, and the house is so quiet I can almost hear it zing in my ears. I reach out to touch him … and that’s when I come back to myself again. Only it starts up all over again in a minute or two.

  ‘I can’t pretend any longer. It was all my fault. He wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t been so selfish and run away. Or if I’d come back earlier that week, which I had thought of doing. Do you know, when I found him all I could think of was that I’d have to ring the hospital to tell them he wouldn’t make his appointment to have his hip replaced? Isn’t that awful?’

  Ellie patted Gwen’s hand. ‘You looked after him beautifully all those years, and you weren’t at all well.’

  ‘If I hadn’t walked out on him, if I hadn’t been so silly as to take his comment seriously, he’d still be here.’

  ‘What was it? A heart attack?’

  ‘Paracetamol and sleeping tablets. He’d been given them for the pain in his hip so that he could get some sleep, but he must have taken double or more, and it did for him. If I’d been here … but I wasn’t. He had his funny little ways, but I should have been more understanding. Instead, I left him when he needed me most.’

  Not weedkiller, then. Thank God for that.

  Ellie tried to imagine the scene. ‘It must have been the most awful shock to find him like that.’

  Gwen wasn’t listening. ‘The house is all paid for, and I get half of Harold’s pension. I suppose I should be grateful that I don’t have to find a job at my age, but all I can think of is that in his will he said he was leaving nearly everything to his dear wife, and that was after I’d gone and left him!’

  ‘There, there,’ said Ellie. ‘If you had a little wobble at the end, then I’m sure he knew you’d be back. Because you had forgiven him and returned, hadn’t you? His death was an accident and you couldn’t have prevented it if you had been here.’

  ‘That’s what the doctor says. And my sister.’ Gwen reached for a box of tissues and blew her nose. ‘Sorry, sorry! I know I’m being a complete drip, but I can’t help myself. I hear his voice in my head all the time.’ She reached for the teapot and poured into the mug she’d placed for Ellie.

  Only, it wasn’t tea that came out of the pot. It was clear water. Gwen started to laugh and cry at the same time. ‘Silly me! I forgot to put teabags into the pot.’

  Ellie stood up and looked around. ‘Where are those pills you’re supposed to be taking?’

  ‘I threw them away. They didn’t do me any good. I hate taking pills, especially when I think how Harold made such a silly mistake and took too many. If he hadn’t left them on his bedside table, if he’d put them in the bathroom cabinet like I always did, then he wouldn’t have taken double or more, would he? They said he must have been doubling up the dose for days, probably from the moment I left.’

  Ellie investigated the contents of the rubbish bin. Near the top she found a pristine pack of pills. She extracted the instructions from the pack and read them through. ‘It says you have to keep taking them for a fortnight before they take effect. How many have you taken so far?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe a couple. Then I stopped. They weren’t doing any good.’

  Ellie got a glass of water and put that and the pills down in front of Gwen. ‘You must accept what happened and move on. I know Harold would say that to you if he were here now. He’d say you were wallowing in your misery.’

  A trace of colour came into Gwen’s cheeks. ‘That’s a nasty word, “wallowing”! I’m not “wallowing”. I’m grieving.’

  ‘Sure. You’re stuck in the mud and need a shove to get you going again. Come on, now, take your pill. I’ll make a proper pot of tea, and we can talk about where you go from here.’

  Gwen pushed the pills away. ‘No, no. You don’t understand.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Ellie. ‘I went through something like this when we first met. Frank had died in hospital unexpectedly and I was distraught. I’d never had to think for myself during all the years we were married, and it took time for me to discover that I could manage on my own. As you can. With a bit of help from your friends. Trust me, you keep on taking those pills and allow yourself to be pampered for a bit, and soon you’ll be able to cope much better.’

  ‘I feel so guilty!’

  ‘You’ve no need. It was just one of those things. He knew you loved him and that he could rely on you. His death was an accident. You have grieved for him and no doubt you will continue to do so, but sooner or later you will have to take some decisions about your future.’

  ‘You talk as if I had a future, but I can’t see it.’

  ‘Well, you could make a start by going back to work part-time at the charity shop. They always need volunteers, and it would get you out and about. Have you considered selling the house and finding somewhere easier to run?’

  Gwen shuddered. ‘Of course not. This is our home. We’ve lived here all our married life. How could you be so unfeeling?’

  Ellie got up, made a proper pot of tea, sniffed the milk in the bottle on the table, decided it was just about drinkable, and poured tea for both of them.

  Gwen still hadn’t taken her pill.

  Ellie said, ‘Did you make a will at the same time as Harold?’

  ‘Um? No. I haven’t made one. I’m not that old. Anyway, I’ve nobody to leave anything to, except my sister, I suppose. Only, she said that Harold’s death was a merciful release for me as well as for him so I don’t think I’ll leave it to her. I’m afraid she never understood him.’

  ‘Do you know why he made a will? Perhaps a friend suggested it?’

  ‘Um, yes. Someone at the golf club, I think. He couldn’t play any longer, but he used to drop in there sometimes for a drink or a meal. It was almost the only pleasure he had towards the end. He said someone had been talking about a friend who’d upped and died that week, and Harold said he supposed he’d never get any peace from me till I’d seen him in the grave, which was not at all what I’d said but, well, you know, he did get hold of the wrong end of the stick sometimes.’

  ‘I expect he discussed the terms with you before he made his will?’

  ‘Oh, no. He knows – that is, he knew – that I’ve no head for business. No, he told me afterwards that he’d done it. While I was staying with my sister, in fact. The week before he died. He said he’d made some bequests to old friends, that sort of thing. He tried to explain what he meant when he said I was the residuary legatee, and I think I understood. The solicitor was the executor because Harold knew I’d be no good at all that stuff, taxes and bequests, and form-filling. The executor was wonderful and made it so easy for me to understand what I had to do.’

  ‘It was good of him to leave my husband something. I didn’t know they were close.’

  Gwen shrugged. ‘Was he? His friends were a closed book to me. He knew lots of people I didn’t. Men are like that, aren’t they?’

  ‘Did you know any of the other people he left bequests to?’

  ‘Mm? No, I don’t think so. The executor did read the list out to me, but I wasn’t up to dealing with them, so he did it for me.’

  ‘I was surprised you didn’t tell me about the funeral. I’d have come if I’d known.’

  ‘Harold left instructions that it was all to be very quiet. He’d no kith or kin left alive and, as you know, he’d never got on with my sister, so there were just a few of us at the crematorium. From his work, mostly. I did think his friends from the golf club might have come but there … I don’t suppose anyone told them, and I wasn’t really up to ringing round, especially when Harold had said he wanted it nice and quiet.’

  Ellie pushed the pills further towa
rds Gwen. This time, Gwen took one. Success!

  Ellie said, ‘I’m glad he recognized how much he meant to you at the end, Gwen. You were a good wife to him. It was right and proper that he called you his “dear wife” in his will. I expect you look at your copy now and then, to remind you? I’d love to see it, if I may.’

  ‘I’ve put it away somewhere. I can’t look at it at the moment. Seeing his signature … oh dear.’ She mopped tears again. ‘He remembered all sorts of people, you know; some charities, the British Heart Foundation, that sort of thing. And the rest he left to “my dear wife.” He did love me, you see. He just wasn’t very good at showing it.’

  Ellie wasn’t entirely sure that Harold had meant to use those words of endearment. The solicitor might have put them in as a matter of routine. But they comforted Gwen and that was all to the good.

  Ellie said, ‘He relied on you for everything, Gwen.’

  ‘I keep telling myself that. My sister keeps saying he didn’t love me, but felt he owned me like a slave. She’s completely wrong, and I’ve told her so.’

  ‘Of course. You knew him far better than she did. Now some time has passed, perhaps you could ring her up and perhaps arrange to visit her for a few days? She was good to you when you were poorly. Perhaps you could arrange to give her a treat, instead? What about taking her away with you for a weekend at a spa, or giving yourselves both a course at the beauticians? Perhaps she could go with you on a spree to buy some new clothes?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think I could go so far as that.’ Gwen tugged at her hair, which was showing grey at the roots. ‘Do I really look so awful?’

  ‘I’m sure Harold would tell you to look after yourself, and not let yourself go.’

  Gwen bit her lip. ‘You think I look terrible.’

  ‘I think it will make you feel better if you smarten yourself up a bit. Then perhaps you could offer to put in a couple of hours a week at the charity shop, where we met all those years ago? You know how short-handed they get, and you are so good with customers. Do you remember when I made such a mess of working the till? And you were so quick with it. I felt quite ashamed of myself.’

  ‘Oh, you!’ said Gwen, but she actually managed a smile. She also drank her tea. ‘It’s going to take time. I know that, and I suppose you are right about doing something to my hair. I haven’t coloured it for a while. But I’m so tired …’

  ‘The pills will kick in soon.’

  ‘I suppose. As for ringing my sister, well, she does keep ringing me, every now and then. I usually put the phone down when I know it’s her, but I suppose she means well.’

  Gwen went on talking, gently moving herself on with her life. Ellie listened, and made the appropriate comments when necessary.

  The phone rang. Gwen picked it up and said, ‘Oh, it’s you!’ And to Ellie, ‘It’s my sister!’ Then back to the phone: ‘I’m glad you rang. At least, I think I am. I’ve been so down lately. I went to see the doctor and he said …’

  Ellie washed up the tea things while Gwen talked through her state of mind with her sister, and finally agreed that yes, she would continue with the pills and that they would speak again the following day.

  Gwen put the phone down and said, ‘You haven’t any sisters, have you? So you probably don’t understand. I do love my sister. Of course I do. But at a distance. We can talk on the phone, and everything’s lovely till she starts criticizing me and then I put the phone down. Harold taught me to do that. He used to say, “If she upsets you, just put the phone down.” That’s what I do. But when we’re together, face-to-face, I can’t just walk away, especially if I’m staying with her. Besides, I like to be quiet in my own home.’ She looked around her. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better see what I can cook myself for supper. I haven’t felt like eating much lately.’

  Ellie thought that it was too soon for the pills to have kicked in and that probably all that Gwen had needed was someone to talk to for a bit. Whatever the reason, Gwen was on the mend. So Ellie arranged to have a coffee in the Avenue with her friend very soon, and left.

  FIVE

  Wednesday, early evening

  On her way home, Ellie realized she was no nearer finding out why Harold had left Thomas any money or to unravelling the mystery of his death, if indeed there was a mystery. It might just have been accident. The coroner had apparently thought so. Harold had been left alone with his pills, he’d been in pain, he’d overdosed. Yes, it had been an accident.

  Except … except that the Harold Ellie knew would have been meticulous about taking his pills at the right time every day. He would have set alarms on his watch, to remind him when to take them. He would have been careful to take them before or after meals, whichever was indicated.

  He hadn’t been in agony. Or had he? If the pain in his hip had been so bad that he took double the painkillers to give him a night’s sleep, then he might well have risked it. Or, if he’d been fuddled with sleep and woken up, he might have forgotten he’d already taken the recommended dose and dipped into the packet again.

  Either way, nobody had seemed to think the manner of his death extraordinary at the time. Thomas ought to be content with that. If only Ellie could find out why Harold had been so generous to him, then all would be well.

  Probably.

  Ellie arrived home to find Hetty banging pans around in the kitchen, with the radio and the television competing against one another at full blast.

  Ellie braced herself. Hadn’t she told Hetty not to bother cooking that evening? Oh dear, was Hetty going to stage another scene? Something had to be said.

  ‘No, no, Hetty. Really! I told you I was going to cook tonight.’

  Hetty was flushed but determined. ‘Oh, go on! Let me! It’s so little I can do to repay you for all your kindness to me. I’d be sleeping on the streets if it weren’t for you and Thomas.’

  Was she trying to pretend that Ellie hadn’t asked her to move on?

  ‘Oh, surely not!’ said Ellie, trying to put her foot down while aware that she wasn’t going to be anywhere near firm enough. ‘Now, please! No arguments. I’m cooking tonight, so off you go and put your feet up in peace and quiet.’

  ‘Oh, but I’ve such a lovely surprise for you tonight! I saw a whacking big bacon joint in the supermarket. It was reduced to a real snip, and I’m cooking it for you with my special dumplings and cabbage. I know Thomas will want at least two helpings!’

  ‘I thought you were going to buy some fish … Oh, never mind. That’s very good of you, Hetty. But please, I really don’t like you going to so much trouble for us.’

  Ellie knew she was being weak, but she couldn’t bear to see the woman weep, which she seemed likely to do at any moment. So instead of sticking to her guns, she said, ‘I’ll tell Thomas what to expect.’

  She went down the corridor to the library to find Thomas standing at the window and looking out over the garden even though his computer was still on … which meant he hadn’t finished work yet. The second desk was empty, which meant his secretary had already left for the day.

  On hearing Ellie’s step, Thomas held his hand out to her. She went to stand close at his side, and he circled her shoulders with his arm. The gardener hadn’t been that week, and the lawn was looking shaggy. She really must find time to mow it before the weekend. For a moment she wished Thomas would offer to mow the lawn but dismissed that idea as ridiculous. He really was no gardener. He probably hadn’t even noticed that the lawn needed a cut.

  Instead, Ellie broke the bad news in a bright voice. ‘Hetty’s cooking again tonight. I asked her not to, but she’d already started. She thinks it will be a real treat for us.’

  He sighed. ‘She means well. I think I have some indigestion tablets left.’

  Ellie said, ‘I have spoken to her about finding her another place to go to. She didn’t take it well and now she’s pretending I haven’t said anything. I’ll ask the trust again if we can find somewhere within her price range but I don’t think there is anything.’


  ‘She could move further out and find something cheaper.’

  ‘I’ve suggested that. She doesn’t want to. Some day soon we’ll have the house to ourselves, I promise. And no more lodgers. I suppose then we’ll be complaining the house is too much for us. We’re both so busy that I suppose we’ll always have to have someone come in from outside to help.’

  ‘We won’t always have to work as hard as we do now. Most people are fully retired by this time. I keep going because I enjoy it but for how long will that last? You’re amazing, Ellie. You never seem to get tired and you always find time to help people in trouble. Will you ever learn to say “no” to people?’

  She grinned. ‘Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Who’s out morning, noon and night, looking after other people? Not to mention the hours you spend on the computer editing the magazine.’

  She relaxed, leaning against him. Then remembered that she still had to report what she’d discovered that afternoon. ‘I went to see Gwen, whose husband Harold was the third person to leave you some money. He made a will without consulting her as to the details and signed it when she was away for a few days. She says he left bits of money here and there, to charities and so on and so forth. His solicitor was also his executor and seems to have done a decent job of steering Gwen through the worst of the paperwork. Harold died because he’d taken too many painkillers and sleeping tablets. There must have been an autopsy but nobody is screaming “foul play”. According to his own wishes, he was cremated in a small private ceremony.’

  ‘I don’t remember him at all. Or her.’

  ‘I dare say. I’ve known Gwen for donkeys’ years. I’ve probably mentioned her to you now and then, but there’s no reason why you should remember her. She says that it was someone at the golf club who’d reminded Harold about making a will.’

  Ellie’s son-in-law, Evan, was a long-time member of the golf club. He and Diana were often there in the evenings. ‘Diana and her husband must have come across Harold there. I expect they told him you were a worthy cause.’