by Charlot King
“Hello Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth looks up, unsure why the Inspector has made such a trek to see her, but wondering if it is to ask her back to work.
“I have left you a number of messages at the station, Inspector. You haven’t been here in ages now, have you?”
“No, I don’t suppose I have.”
The Inspector looks around the glasshouse. Its fine timber frame is laced with the cleanest, most delicate panes, making any man think of golf, cricket or footballs smashing through making a hellish noise, disrupting the work inside.
“Missing it? Everyone misses the Botanical Gardens after a while. Isn’t it just the best place in Cambridge? Always quiet in the week too. No one here bothering the plants with their litter, or their poking and prodding. I really think they should ban young children.”
“Surely they’re future botanists aren’t they? Toddlers love nature, before all those time wasting gadgets set in.”
“A little tinker was picking flowers in here at the weekend. Father apparently defended him, saying he was being creative and was going to make his Mummy a pretty picture when he got home. I could draw a picture of what I’d do to him.”
Elizabeth looks affronted at the audacity.
“Good job for everyone by the sounds of it that you didn’t catch him.” Inspector Abley raises his eyebrows. Elizabeth crosses her arms and stops what she’s doing, so he tries to undo his veiled insult by moving the conversation on a little, talking about his own children.
“Thank goodness my two are ploughing their own furrows. Just come to check that you’re doing okay? You know, after last night. I shouldn’t wonder if it was all a bit of a shock?”
Elizabeth recognises Abley’s bumbling attempts to find out how she is and shakes her head.
“I’m perfectly fine. If that’s all you wanted you’d have sent a junior along, or perhaps the police doctor. How is Mr Simpkins?”
“It takes such a long time to get into a normal surgery appointment these days. I haven’t time to sit in a GP waiting room with everyone coughing and spluttering. Simpkins is a fine doctor, would you like to see him?”
Inspector Abley is feeling his way with Elizabeth, trying to read her mood.
“Oh really. Will you come to the point? And did you listen to my messages about the food poisoning as a possibility?”
“It looks like we have to keep the cordon in your garden for a while longer than we thought. It does look suspicious.”
“Someone died there last night. I don’t expect any less. But get those neanderthals to be more careful with my lawn.”
“They should be gone by the end of the week.”
“Just tell me what you know. Then I can offer my theories and run some tests for you. That’s why you’re really here again, isn’t it?”
The Inspector pauses, still frustrated by what he has to tell her.
“No, it isn’t actually.”
“Then what?”
“The pathologist wants more time if you must know. He’s working on it.”
“Why? What have they found? Who’s doing it, is it Leedham? Leedham is always so slow, so pernickety.”
Abley doesn’t want to be drawn, especially as she is right. Leedham is slow. So again he tries to change the subject.
“These are lovely plants.”
“Tell me.” Elizabeth is having none of his prevarication.
“Deep red flowers. What are they? Mrs Abley would love some of these in her conservatory. She still has that wisteria you bought her a couple of years ago, was it? It is growing up the entire side of our west wall. Pretty lilac flowers.”
Elizabeth starts to walk away from the Inspector. She waves her hand, so Abley relents and offers up the information she requests.
“It’s Leedham, yes. He told me that Mr Wiley had a cardiac arrest, but he’s found traces of toxalbumin, so there is toxicology now to consider.” Abley immediately regrets revealing the unknowns to Elizabeth.
“Well I can completely help with that.” She says eagerly.
“And by the way, you were breaking the law by not telling us that Edward wasn’t already dead, for Christ’s sake Elizabeth. How on earth am I going to square that peg?”
Elizabeth knows she’s in trouble.
“Didn’t I? I thought I had.”
“Oh no you didn’t. It’s not in any part of your statement.”
“It must have been the shock.” Elizabeth is telling the truth, she thinks. She must have just forgotten to tell them. Was that it?
“We’ll have to get an additional statement from you, so I think you’d better start thinking how you can justify having left out that minor detail.”
“All right.” Elizabeth gets defensive.
“It changes everything. You know that technically makes you a potential suspect now, the last person to see Mr Wiley alive.” Abley rocks on his toes. Elizabeth tugs at her hair in exasperation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just forgot. I forgot, all right? He died so quickly. He only uttered a couple of words and then he was gone. You said a suspect? So you think it wasn’t a normal drowning after all?”
“He only uttered a couple of words? Elizabeth, you can’t withhold evidence from the police when there is a death in suspicious circumstances, or I shall end up having to arrest you. What were the words?”
Inspector Abley nervously rubs a plant as they stand and talk. Elizabeth notices and goes to draw his hand away, relieved for the change of subject.
“Inspector. You shouldn’t have touched that. Here.” Elizabeth wipes his hands with a cloth, smirking at him for jumping back in fear. “Ranunclulaceae family. More commonly known as monkshood,” Elizabeth wipes between his fingers, “or wolfsbane, soldier’s cap, devil’s helmet.”
“All right, I didn’t touch it for long.” Abley pulls his hand away from Elizabeth.
“Wouldn’t lick your fingers. Know how you like your food.” She says, enjoying winding him up.
“Why? I only touched it.”
Elizabeth wants to remind Abley just how smart she is, and how he needs her on the case.
“Pretty, bit like a delphinium. If you were to eat it you’d get a transient burning in the mouth, followed by several hours of vomiting, diarrhoea, severe blood pressure abnormalities, slip into a coma, have convulsions. Without treatment, could quite possibly die. If you touch it the poison is absorbed through the skin. You won’t feel any problems in your stomach, but your hand and then arm will start to feel numb as the poison heads for the heart. This is the queen of poisons, Inspector.”
“Eh?” The Inspector looks at his hand, and goes to a water tap in the glasshouse.
“Some florists have reported feeling unwell just from working with it. You have to be unlucky though, I think small contact would probably be fine.” Elizabeth feels a little guilty now as Abley washes his hands vigorously, so much that the tap water spills over the tray catch, onto the concrete floor.
“Probably? Why are you growing it here? Children come in, don’t they?”
“This particular glasshouse is not open to the public, because it houses very poisonous plants. It remains locked. It is one of the deep ironies of the Botanical Gardens, as you will find this plant in many gardens anyway and growing wild. We live in a culture of health and safety and insurance claims gone mad.”
“Insurance claims? Bit hard if you’re dead.”
“Calm down, Bob. You’ll be fine.”
The Inspector puts more soap from the dispenser on his hands and washes them again.
“You’re safe now.” She continues to try to calm him.
“Really, if it is that poisonous?” Abley tries to change the subject and directs his questions back at Elizabeth. “What words did Edward say before he died?”
“Serve us tea, or serve us tips. It
was hard to tell. I don’t know.”
“That’s three words.”
“Two or three words. He repeated them actually, if you must know. Could he have been talking about the restaurant? They served him and then he gave a tip? He could likely have been hallucinating by that point.”
“You must tell me these things in future, or we are going to fall out.” Inspector continues to wash his hands. Elizabeth doesn’t like Abley’s reprimand.
“It was once used to kill wolves, you know, that particular poison. Arrow heads dipped in it, as the effects are quick.”
“Bloody hell, Liz. What are you like?”
“You only touched it.” She smiles.
“You grow it.” Abley huffs.
“It can be found in many places in meadows. Hence it’s in the meadow garden glasshouse. It’s a native species. How many people do you know who have died from monkshood poisoning?”
“How would we know?”
“Really, calm down. Look. See?”
Elizabeth goes over and touches the plant with her hand, having taken off her glove to illustrate it is okay. She just wants to calm Inspector Abley down.
“You’d have to touch it more than that. Not just for a few seconds like you did. You’ll be fine.”
“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?” Abley shows concern for Elizabeth, moving to provide space by the tap. Elizabeth puts her glove back on and tries to find out again if Abley is asking her back to work on the Wiley case.
“So he had a cardiac arrest? You stopped by to tell me that? The toxalbumin though. That could have come from so many things.”
The Inspector turns off the tap and wipes his hands dry with a paper towel.
“No. What I came to say,” The Inspector has calmed down and speaks quietly, “was make sure you share all information in future and please leave the case to us. I heard you were at Rebecca Wiley’s first thing this morning, telling her it could be murder, when we’re still doing the post-mortem. I thought you had a lecture to give?”
Elizabeth raises her eyebrows and corrects Abley.
“I just said that something about this is odd, because it is. And I can’t say I much took to Jonathan Smythe-Jones. An oily character if there ever was. He looked as guilty as hell. Chain smoking YSL cigarettes.”
“Yves Saint Laurent? We found a packet in Edward’s jacket. But according to his wife he doesn’t smoke.”
“See how useful my visit was this morning, Bob?”
Inspector Abley realises he is unfairly drawing Elizabeth into the case again.
“Look Elizabeth, your expertise has always been relied upon and you have helped solve some of our toughest cases. How can I put this politely? Stop interfering.” Abley tries to temper the blow with a softer tone. “I’m just saying that you’ve crossed the line into police work. Please stay clear of it.”
Elizabeth can’t look at Inspector Abley.
“Just make sure you don’t touch anything else on the way out.”
The Inspector is used to Elizabeth’s abrupt demeanour and tries to smile at her, at least to show no hard feelings. He gets no response from her in return, no flicker of vulnerability, so he decides to turn on his heel and leave the glasshouse, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he has gone, Elizabeth removes her gloves and walks over to wash her hands with soap. She wanted to make a point to Abley, but she doesn’t want to feel under the weather later. She rubs her hands under the water to make sure the poison is off.
14. Grandson
Elizabeth starts back on her earlier task of identifying stronger seedlings from the weak. There is a flicker of hurt in the corner of her eye, but she won’t let it build. She knows she’s stronger than the Inspector, she also knows she’ll crack this case before he does - with or without him. She bends down to dig the soil before planting out one of the stronger seedlings and hears the door creak open again.
“Look Inspector, I hear you loud and clear. You’ve drummed the message home. No need to twist the knife -”
It’s Godric worried about his favourite nanna, and just has time to check all is well before his next lecture.
“Hello Bun’. What did he want?”
Elizabeth shrugs so Godric continues.
“You swooped out of the house this morning like a carrier pigeon with a message for god.”
“More to the point, what do you want, Godric?”
Elizabeth knows that when Godric wants something he inevitably seeks her out and acts overly nice. Godric takes hold of his nanna’s hand. Now she knows for sure.
“I wanted to check you’re okay, because you’ve been through it. You haven’t had any sleep. So if there’s anything you need, or if you’d like to have lunch together later, just say the word. Nothing’s too small.”
“I wish everyone would stop fussing. Don’t I look okay?” Elizabeth is having none of his concern.
“Actually, you look,” Godric thinks twice about what he was going to say, that she looks shattered, “you look radiant, as ever. Just a tad tired around the tiniest of edges, but other than that, you have a glow which would rival any nuclear power station, Bunny.”
Elizabeth has had enough of this.
“If you’re not going to revise, that’s your funeral. But I need to work, Godric. Sorry for snapping. And I’m having lunch with Emily today. Aren’t there things you can be getting on with?”
Godric puts his head to one side, and limps a little towards the window to look out into the far distance as he screeches his next words.
“I feel so tired, from having woken so early. I feel like I need a pick me up.”
“That’ll be the pickling of your liver, no doubt.”
Godric smirks at his grandmother’s pointed reminder of his hangover. “Touché.” Frustrated with her work, Elizabeth takes it out on the plants.
“Oh bugger. These won’t flower. If they won’t flower then I just can’t get them to propagate. We are running out of seeds. Summer lady’s tresses. Thought to be extinct in the wild.”
Though he already knows far more than the average fellow about them, as a result of living with his nanna, Godric can’t think of anything less interesting than plants, unless you can ferment and drink them, or perhaps smoke them. He changes the subject.
“They’re still there. At home. I always think frogmen look a little peculiar. You know, with their faces all steamed up, and their lips stretched apart by the breathing apparatus. A bit like Muppets.”
“They’ll not find anything.” Elizabeth states dismissively, getting out a little brush and pollinating some wild flowers.
Godric tries to be super agreeable, he has something on his mind.
“I half wondered if there was anyone left at the Parkside police station with all the forensics going on at ours.”
But Elizabeth is off in her own thoughts, trying to piece together the last twenty four hours of Edward’s life.
“So the police clearly suspect malice. They found traces of toxalbumin for goodness’ sake. What more do they need? You don’t find it naturally in high doses like that.” Elizabeth has worked herself up into a fervour. Godric again, with ulterior motives, agrees with everything Elizabeth says, but is also worried about his nanna doing too much.
“Well that sniffs of something odd indeed. But I am sure the Inspector can handle it, don’t you think? You look like you have your hands full here.”
Elizabeth isn’t grateful for her grandson’s advice.
“Haven’t you got lectures to go to?”
“Well, funny you should say that. Yes, and with my leg it is proving rather tricky. I mean I want to revise at the library. Then I have evensong.” Godric looks through his long eyelashes at Elizabeth. “You know what would help? The Talbot. You did say to rest my knee.” Godric could not look more puppy eyed if he tried. But Elizabeth is
having none of it.
“You don’t need a car for that. We live in the centre.”
Godric tries one more tactic.
“I’m sure I could hear it speaking to me this morning, saying ‘summer is here. I need a drive. Let me out.’”
Godric is not helping Elizabeth’s mood.
“Perhaps the Inspector was talking some sense. A bit of exercise might do you good. And as far as I can remember, the Talbot is not a talking car, Goddy.”
“Okay.” Godric puts on a limp as he walks away from Elizabeth and stands looking out of the glasshouse across the grass. “Did you see Rebecca by the way? She might be at evensong tonight, though with all the circumstances I doubt it.”
