The Cat's Paw Cozy Mysteries

by Fiona Snyckers

  “If she has lunch waiting for her at home…” said Laetitia.

  David waved this away. “Morwen won’t mind. She’s very relaxed.”

  “I’ll send her a text to let her know,” said Fay. When she had sent it, she popped her phone into her bag. “Done.”

  “What was it you brought for me, Fay?” David handed the stew to his father who handed it along to Laetitia. As the guest, she was expected to help herself first.

  Fay passed him the bag of homeopathic concoctions. “Mrs. Saville might not have believed in doctors, but she did believe in alternative medicine. It turns out she’s been taking homeopathic remedies for months now.”

  “From that charlatan down at the docks? What is his name? Malkin? I had to warn him just recently to stay away from one of my patients. He was trying to persuade her to stop taking her heart medication and to take his sugar pills instead. I think I scared him into leaving her alone.” He gave a satisfied nod.

  Fay had no difficulty in believing this. David could be quite intimidating when he tried. And even when he didn’t try.

  “Homeopathy?” Laetitia’s voice rang out in the chilly room. “Isn’t that typical of this ridiculous little island?”

  Chapter 13

  Her words were met with silence. Doc Dyer looked pained while David’s face was frozen. Only Fay was unaffected by her rudeness.

  “I don’t know about that,” she said calmly. “I don’t think that homeopathy or any alternative remedies are particular to Bluebell Island. I was talking to Greg Malkin and he told me that the whole reason he came to Bluebell Island was to get away from the mainland. Apparently, it’s well stocked with alternative practitioners. The competition was too strong for him to start up his own business.”

  “That’s Britain for you,” said Laetitia. “I always thought it was a backward place.”

  “I grew up in Connecticut and lived in New York City for twelve years,” said Fay. “There were more homeopaths and alternative medicine centers than you could shake a stick at. Especially in places like Brooklyn. Alternative ideas are everywhere. Human beings are always chasing after miracle cures. It’s a way of keeping hope alive.”

  “Quite right,” said Doc Dyer. “We tend to offer more conventional medical solutions around here, but we also like to think that we keep hope alive, right David?”

  But David was staring at Fay. “Why are you steaming?”

  She turned to look at her right shoulder. Wisps of steam were rising into the air from her jacket.

  “Sorry about that. I got caught in the rain walking up the hill. My jacket got wet and now the water is evaporating.”

  “You went out without an umbrella or a Mac?” Doc Dyer sounded horrified.

  Fay mentally translated his words from British to American. Mac was short for Macintosh, which referred to any kind of overcoat that a person would use to protect themselves from the rain or the cold.

  “I keep forgetting,” she explained.

  As his father tutted, David reached for the brown bag she had left on the table. “I’ll test these when I’ve finished consulting this afternoon. It will be interesting to see if they are anything more than water and sugar pills.”

  “I heard in the village that the deceased woman was being poisoned by her housekeeper,” said Laetitia, helping herself to salad. “Someone pointed her out to me and I must say it wouldn’t surprise me at all. She has a criminal face.”

  “Luckily we don’t convict people on what their faces look like anymore,” said David. “Bertha Maidstone has always seemed like a perfectly pleasant woman to me.”

  Fay decided it was time to turn the conversation to more neutral topics.

  “This stew is excellent, David. Your cook could definitely give Morwen a run for her money.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned to Laetitia. “You must have been sad to leave New York in the spring time. I can just picture Central Park covered in spring blossoms.”

  There. The food and the weather. What could be more harmless?

  “I never notice flowers,” said Laetitia. “Except when they give me hay fever in the summer. But I suppose Central Park can be quite pretty at times.”

  Having disposed of Central Park, she went back to her lunch.

  “I hear you were at the theater yesterday, Fay,” said Doc Dyer.

  Fay didn’t bother asking how he knew that. The way news got around the island would always be a mystery to her. Whether it was smoke signals or WhatsApp groups, the fact remained that everyone knew everyone else’s business.

  “That’s right. I went to ask about the gun that was used to shoot Mrs. Saville.”

  “Gun?” said Laetitia. “I thought she was poisoned.”

  “No, she was killed by a gun fired at the spring fair on Sunday evening. The poisoning might be connected, or it might not. But it was a bullet that killed her.” Fay turned to Doc Dyer. “The gun was dry-fired on stage by Pippa Brand who was playing Little Red Riding Hood. She fired it at Raymond Garver - the big bad wolf. Nothing went wrong at that stage. Raymond then took charge of the gun because he’s the theatrical director. He locked it into the prop room and went back to the fair, taking the key with him. The trouble is that Pippa also has a copy of the key and there’s a spare copy hanging in the office, which is sometimes locked.”

  “So, anyone could have unlocked the prop room and taken the gun?” said Doc.

  “Do either of you know anything about Raymond and Pippa?” Fay asked. “Because when I got there, they were having a massive fight. Raymond accused Pippa of trying to kill him by firing the gun at him on stage, even though she was just doing what they had rehearsed. He said she wanted to get rid of him so that she could be the theatrical director instead.”

  Laetitia laughed. “That’s the most improbable motive for murder I’ve ever heard. I can’t imagine anyone trying to kill someone else, so they could take over the local amateur dramatic society. Why, it’s absurd.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” said David. “Raymond and Pippa were in a relationship a few years ago. It didn’t end well. Do you remember that, Dad?”

  “Of course. It was a scandal that rocked the island. People talked about nothing else for weeks. When was it, David? About five years ago?”

  “A little more, I think. I was still living overseas. I heard about it when I came home to visit.”

  “What happened?” asked Fay.

  Laetitia rolled her eyes. “Are we really going to go over some tawdry little scandal that occurred more than five years ago?”

  “It could be relevant to Mrs. Saville’s death. I want to hear about it.”

  “Raymond and Pippa were both married,” said David as Laetitia huffed out a sigh. “But not to each other. They worked closely together for the Am-Dram Society. That’s Amateur Dramatics,” he translated for Fay. “Then he and Pippa started having an affair that went on for a few years. Quite a few people knew about it, but no one knew for sure if their spouses knew. Raymond was crazy about Pippa, wasn’t he, Dad?”

  “He certainly was. He wanted to marry her. She gave him an ultimatum. She said he had to tell his wife about them and move out of the house. Then she would break up her own marriage and they could finally be together.”

  “And did he do it?”

  “Without hesitation,” said Doc. “His marriage imploded in a very messy way and his wife moved back to Devon to live with her mother.”

  “And then what happened? Did Pippa leave her husband?”

  David took over the story. “This is where it gets interesting. She didn’t leave him. She announced that she and her husband were going to try again, and she broke up with Raymond.”

  “So, having forced Raymond to destroy his own marriage, she announced that she was going to try to save hers?” Fay could see how some angry passions would be stirred up in a situation like that.

  “That’s right. Raymond tried to reconcile with his wife, but things were too unpleas
ant between them and she wasn’t interested. They got divorced a couple of months later.”

  “And Pippa? Are she and her husband still together?”

  David looked at his father for enlightenment. “I have no idea.”

  “The marriage limped on for a few years, but they also got divorced in the end.”

  “Wow.” Fay thought back to the argument she had heard Raymond and Pippa having the day before. All that time she had thought they were arguing about who deserved to be theatrical director, they were actually arguing about something completely different. Or, at least, their animosity stemmed from something different.

  “I understand now why they seemed so furious with each other. But I don’t see how it relates to Mrs. Saville. The fact remains that someone took that gun, loaded it with one bullet, pointed it at Mrs. Saville, and pulled the trigger.”

  “If we’re quite finished with the local gossip,” said Laetitia. “I would like to ask David a question.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry, Laetitia. We’ve been talking about people you know nothing about. What did you want to ask me?”

  “There’s a patient that I’m having trouble diagnosing that I’d like your opinion on. A sixty-two-year-old woman with a history of heart disease. She presented with pain and swelling in her right ankle, but I could find no physiological cause for it. It seemed to be some form of chronic regional pain syndrome, so I started her on a multidisciplinary course of treatment. Statins for her heart, anti-inflammatories for the pain, physiotherapy to mobilize the leg, and some light exercise and a change of diet. She hasn’t responded to treatment, and the ankle remains hot and swollen. I’m wondering if there’s something I’m missing. Could there be a deep vein involvement that we didn’t see on ultrasound?”

  Fay finished her stew as she watched them talk. The expression on David’s face was one of total absorption. He gave Laetitia his full attention, apparently fascinated by the case she laid out before him. He replied by suggesting a venogram, and she countered with more questions.

  For the first time, Fay understood what had brought them together and why their relationship had lasted. It was a powerful bond, this fascination with the medical world. Their minds met on a level that she could not follow. Doc Dyer might believe that they weren’t well suited as a couple, but they certainly had this in common.

  Chapter 14

  There was something therapeutic about watching kittens play.

  Fay had finished her paperwork for the afternoon just as the kittens woke up from a long nap. Now she sat in her bedroom watching them chase each other around. They loved to lay ambushes for each other, hiding behind corners and wiggling their furry little butts as they prepared to pounce. Then they tore around the room, using the bed as part of their crazy obstacle course. They flung themselves at the cat trees and scratching posts, stropping their tiny claws energetically before another pounce made them take off again.

  The only adult cat among them was Sprite, who had gone from total indifference towards the kittens to becoming part of their gang. She was small and gentle, so they had no fear of her. They included her in their games as though she were one of them.

  Fay felt her worries melt away as she watched the tiny bodies bounding around.

  “Come in,” she said as there was a knock at the door.

  The door opened slowly, and a foot appeared in the gap. The owner of the foot clearly knew all about the escape-artist tendencies of the kittens.

  “It’s okay, Mor,” said Fay. “They’re too busy running around to think about escaping.”

  The door opened wider and Morwen inserted herself into the room.

  “It’s like the Kentucky Derby in here.”

  “I know. I could sit and watch them all day. Unfortunately, that’s not an option.”

  “I came to ask about those apple turnovers you made for tea. Should I whip up some cream to go with them?”

  “Already done. There’s a jug of whipped cream in the kitchen next to a jug of homemade custard. It struck me as a custard sort of afternoon.”

  The bad weather that arrived at lunchtime showed no signs of letting up. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and the wind continued to hurl flurries of rain against the windows.

  “I hope you haven’t caught a cold from sitting in wet clothes while you were having lunch with the Dyers.”

  “I hope so too, Mom,” said Fay.

  Morwen just smiled and shook her head. “What are you up to this afternoon?”

  “I need to have an awkward conversation. Laurie Tennith is convinced that the person Mrs. Saville met at her first Rotary Club meeting was Martin Trenowyth.”

  “And you’re going to come right out and ask him? That certainly will be awkward.”

  “I’ve made an appointment at the vet to speak to him about when would be the appropriate time to give the kittens their final vaccinations before they go to their new homes, and also when to have them spayed and neutered.”

  “But you know all that stuff. Your grandmother kept a schedule of when to do what.”

  “I know, but I need an excuse to talk to him and that was the best I could come up with.”

  “What are you going to do if he denies being Mrs. Saville’s big secret?”

  “That depends on whether or not I believe him. If not, I’ll have to think of a way to force him to be honest.”

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you. I’m going to warm up the apple turnovers and the custard now. See you in the lounge for tea?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

  Morwen left Fay to her thoughts. The kittens were slowing down and showing signs of sleepiness. Soon they would be piled up in a furry heap. When they woke again, it would be for the dinner that Morwen would bring them at five o’clock.

  Fay stood up and brushed kitten fur off her jeans. She really wasn’t looking forward to her conversation with Martin, but she was determined to get it over with.

  It felt odd to be sitting in a vet’s waiting room without an animal by her side. She probably looked like a rep from a pet food company.

  After a fifteen-minute wait, Martin came out of his consulting room to call her through.

  “Hi, Fay. I thought you’d be accompanied by a herd of kittens. Come through and let’s chat.”

  At least he had given up pretending that he didn’t remember who she was. He slid the door to the consulting room shut behind her and smiled expectantly.

  Fay launched into her rehearsed speech. “The kittens are two months old now. I’m going to find homes for them at three months because that’s what my grandmother always did. When should they have their last vaccinations, and should I have them sterilized before I home them?”

  Martin sat at his computer and called up previous records for Penrose House.

  “You can bring them for their vaccinations at three months, just a few days before they are going to their new homes. We want to make sure they don’t have any upset tummies or allergic reactions. Those are rare, but not unheard of.”

  Fay nodded and pretended to take notes on her phone.

  “And the sterilizing?”

  “It’s possible to do it at three months, and I know some vets who do, but it’s not ideal. The females in particular are too young for such a big operation. The ideal time is just before they reach six months. If you want to make sure it gets done, you could pay for it in advance and give the new owners a voucher to come here and have them fixed. I will then get my receptionist to phone and remind them at the appropriate time. If I remember correctly, that’s the way your grandmother always did it.”

  “Perfect. Thank you. I just want there to be zero possibility of these kittens adding to the cat population one day.”

  “Absolutely. None of us wants that.”

  With that cleared up, Fay found it difficult to move on to the subject of Mrs. Saville. Luckily, he gave her an opening.

  “How’s business? It must be picking up now that the weather is getting war
mer.” He cast an ironic look out the window where rain was still lashing the island. “Warming up in general, I mean. Not today, apparently.”

  “Yes, it’s definitely picking up. I was worried that the shooting on Sunday was going to put people off. It was in all the newspapers and on TV. I thought people might cancel their bookings.”

  “And did they?”

  “Actually, not. I had a new booking from Mrs. Saville’s daughter, the poor thing. She’s here to sort out her mother’s affairs.”

  “I suppose she’s meeting with lawyers and so forth?”

  “I suppose so.” Now was as good a time as any. “You must have known Mrs. Saville quite well.”

  “What?” he said. “No, I didn’t. Why would you say that?”

  “She joined the Rotary Club recently. And you’re a member. I heard you went to a lot of trouble to make her feel welcome.”

  Martin’s eyes flicked away from Fay’s. “Oh, of course. Yes, she did join the club. She hadn’t been a member for long, though.”

  “You got to know her well after that first meeting, didn’t you? The two of you spent time together.”

  Martin laughed. It was an uneasy sound. “What is this? An interrogation? I met her once at the Rotary Club. Apart from that, I didn’t know her at all.”

  “That’s odd because her housekeeper saw you visiting Mrs. Saville at home and even spending the night on several occasions.”

  This wasn’t true. Bertha had never seen the face of the person who visited her employer, but Fay wanted to see his reaction.

  “Are you telling me she actually saw…” He caught himself. “She must have been mistaken. It was someone else.”

  “Really? Because Joe who delivers the pizzas for Pappa’s also said he saw you at Mrs. Saville’s house one night when he was dropping off two orders.”

  Martin’s face was suffused with blood from jaw to hairline. He was blushing so vividly he looked like a stoplight. But his gaze didn’t waver.