Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
"Could I have a minute or two of your time?" he asked after he'd politely greeted me.
"Of course." I tried to keep my tone as unemotional as possible. I had no idea if he knew that I knew or what he was trying to figure out.
He had ruled me out as a suspect, hadn't he?
I hadn't even noticed that I was wringing my hands. When I saw him staring at them, I stopped fidgeting. "Come in.” Again, I took him to the library section.
"I should read more," he said. "There never seems to be enough time."
I bared my teeth in the semblance of a smile. "I've heard that a lot, and believe me, I'm the same. But I assume you're not here to talk about our leisure habits."
"No." His face grew solemn. "I'm afraid I have some disturbing news."
"Oh," I said. "I see."
"It appears as if your aunt… Well, there's no easy way to say it. We're either looking at a murder-suicide or a double homicide."
I clutched my amulet. "Oh no."
"You haven't heard anything?"
"Only rumors," I said. "And as you can imagine, I can't believe that my aunt—" I broke off.
"Understandable," he said.
"How did you find out so soon? I thought it takes days or weeks for the lab to complete their tests."
"There was a certain interest in getting to the bottom of this. We don't usually deal with major crimes here in Cannon Hill, and especially in Willowmere. It's been surprisingly peaceful for decades."
Cosmo stretched, as if to remind me that maybe he had something to do with all this peacefulness. Or maybe he simply didn't want to be overlooked.
"What happens next?" I asked the detective.
I wondered if I should hand over the pill dispenser to him. No, I'd wait, I told myself.
"I assume you have other leads or clues, or people of interest to investigate apart from my aunt? Because honestly—why on earth would Aunt Violet do something so horrible?"
"That's what I was asking myself," he admitted. "Until it came to our attention that her neighbor had threatened her cat. It's well known how much she dotes on that animal.”
“Nonsense. Why would he threaten Cosmo?"
"It seems your aunt's cat has been trespassing, and I'm sorry to say this, but he killed a few protected birds in her neighbor’s yard. Jake Gee was very keen on protecting wildlife and nature."
"So was my aunt. And I have never heard anything as absurd as this. That cat has never caught anything apart from a couple of fallen leaves that he chases once in a blue moon." Right on cue, Cosmo did his best to appear fluffy and harmless.
"I know it's hard to believe that your kitty has done something wrong or that old friends might have had a serious falling out over this kind of incident, but it happens. And it wouldn't be the first time that something starts with a clash over values and ends with a murder."
"Who told you about Cosmo killing birds?" I asked.
"I'm not at liberty to say, Ms. Merriweather, but believe me, we have our sources. Reliable ones."
Absurd.
"I'm sorry," he said again, as if that would make anything better.
"So am I." I managed a wan smile.
The only thing keeping me upright was the idea of him eating humble pie and publicly apologizing—not only to my late aunt but also to Cosmo.
I shot the cat a sidelong glance.
He cleaned his paws, the very picture of innocence.
"Is that all, or do you have any questions for me?" I asked. My voice shook. I wasn't acting.
"That’s all for now," he said. "I don't have to remind you—"
"Don't leave town?" I asked. "I thought that was only for suspects. And you told me that you ruled me out. I assume you've ruled out all the heirs—"
I bit my tongue. I had decided to leave that to Nick. So why did I blurt it out?
He gave me an inscrutable look. "Goodbye, Ms Merriweather."
With him safely gone, I grabbed Cosmo and lifted him.
"Hey!" he complained. "Put me down."
"Only if you look me in the eye and tell me that you have not been chasing birds."
Did he look shifty?
"Tell me," I demanded.
"Of course I haven't," he said. "Who do you think I am? What I find interesting is that somebody has been trashing my reputation to give Violet a motive for murder."
"What's so interesting about that? I mean, somebody's also been trashing her reputation."
"Yes. But who knew they would have her body tested?"
"I still can't follow."
"If this foul rumor about me is even newer than the one about your aunt—then it's been the murderer again."
Or an accomplice. Because Pamela, as far as we know, hasn’t set foot into town yet.
My mind whirled. “What about Jimmy’s famous son?
He’d been so keen on getting Sam into this place, offering his help again and again.
What if he and Pamela have been in cahoots the whole time and they want to plant more evidence against my aunt?
” I warmed to the theme. It made sense, and it would fit with rumors spreading while she isn’t around.
The two of them could easily have worked together.
I grabbed the Ziploc bag. "Are you OK if I leave you here for a while?"
"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "You are the one who’s got to watch her step."
I sent a quick message to Ange and jumped into my car.
My next stop was the medical practice. It had a small lab attached at the back, so the doctors wouldn’t have to rely on getting samples tested in the bigger towns.
Ange and Nick were there, waiting for me.
"What’s going on?" he asked.
I glanced around.
"Don’t worry, everybody else has already gone," Nick assured me. "I would have too, had my darling wife not told me to stay put."
"It’s this." I put the bag with the pill dispenser on the table. "I was wondering if you could have the heart medication tested."
"Why?" asked Ange.
"I only just realized that to poison my aunt, the killer would have had to either put something in her food or her drink. Or swap her pills. In which case, they’d need to know exactly what kind of medication she was on."
"That tracks," Ange said.
"Yes, it does, doesn’t it?"
"They all look pretty normal to me," Nick said.
"They would have to, wouldn’t they? Otherwise, my aunt would have never been fooled.
The interesting thing is the timing. If we find nothing, it means that there was only one doctored pill, and she was taken out of the way as soon as possible.
That can only have been because the killer was afraid she might have seen or figured out something.
They didn’t expect her to already have sent a letter to the police anonymously. "
"If we find nothing, it could also mean that there was nothing to find," Nick said. “Or the poison was in her food or drink.”
"Have you spoken to the police yet about Pamela?" I asked him while he took out a microscope and put every single pill under it.
"What are you doing?" his wife asked.
"Searching for puncture marks or anything that makes it look as if one of the capsules has been opened and resealed.
And then I'll pop them on the scales. If there's a tiny difference, it might mean that there's an added substance in there. It’s unlikely the killer would have managed to keep the weight identical, no matter how many doctored pills there are. "
"That's brilliant," she said.
"I know."
They grinned at each other—the kind of smile that made me remember how it had been in the beginning with me and Rick. Who chose that very same moment to send me yet another text message.
"Don't forget, I'm here for you."
"Honestly," I muttered. "What is it with people?"
"What are you talking about?" Ange asked.
I showed her the message.
"Hmm." She frowned. "Either there's trouble in paradise and he realizes that he's been an absolute idiot or he genuinely cares. Not that you should take him back."
"I wouldn’t.”
She pulled me aside while her husband did a thorough examination of the tablets, pills, and capsules.
"This is still good, that he reaches out. He is the father of your daughter, after all."
"That's what I've been telling myself all this time. Otherwise, I would have—"
"Otherwise, you would have left him a long time ago."
"That obvious?"
"Ever since I've known you, you have been convinced that you weren't good enough.
Not good enough for your dad to stay—although, I'd say he would have left anyway, when your mom got ill or even without her getting ill.
Some people are like that. It was no reflection on you.
But somehow, you got it into your tiny, tiny, stubborn brain that you didn't deserve any better, so you didn’t aim for better.
Don't blame Rick for the fact that you had no self-esteem. "
"Thank you, I guess."
"You're welcome. Tough love, sweetheart, but that's what we're all about, right?"
She pulled me back into the proper lab, where Nick had finished.
"Nothing," he said. "All the pills are fine. But there's another thing."
"Yes?"
"There's only one set of fingerprints on the container."
"Aunt Violet’s, I assume?" My heart sank.
"Highly likely—except, like I said, only one set. And if she had been using this every day, several times a day, as you can see from the labels, there should have been fingerprints everywhere. The same ones, but everywhere."
"This dispenser has been wiped clean?"
"And after that," he continued, "it was only opened once. The fatal capsule was inserted just before she took it. She died during the night, so it was her last pill of the day."
"That gives us a timeline, doesn’t it?"
"It does. If the police want to hear it. They didn’t send a team to collect evidence.”
"Of course they will listen to you," Ange said. "This is proof, isn’t it?"
"I'll write a report, I'll seal the bag with the container and I’ll lock it in my cupboard until the time comes when, hopefully, the detective or one of his colleagues will take care of it. I won’t hand it back to you so there can be no suspicion that you have doctored anything."
"How could Bex have done anything? What if there are other fingerprints? That’s evidence!” Ange insisted.
"We'll see."
He took Ange's arm. "Ready to go home?"
He winked at me. "You're coming too, right?"
I nodded.
I waited until I lounged in the most comfortable chair in Ange’s kitchen, with a glass of medicinal wine in front of me, before I texted Rick back.
"Busy right now. Talk soon."