‘No problem,’ Cowell repeated. ‘Glad to be of help.’
SEVENTEEN
The two detectives showed their IDs to the woman who opened the door to Holmwood Care Home. Her white overall had the monogram HCH embroidered on the pocket. ‘We’d like to see Mr and Mrs Seaton,’ said Rathbone.
The woman hesitated. ‘I’m not sure if they’re available,’ she said doubtfully. ‘If you’d care to . . .’
She waved a hand at some chairs in the small reception area behind her, but without giving her time to finish Rathbone said, ‘Then we’ll wait until they are. Just inform them we’re here, please.’ He sat down and beckoned Sukey to an adjacent chair.
The woman scurried away. Several minutes ticked past before Carla Seaton appeared. Her face was flushed and to Sukey’s experienced eye she appeared agitated. ‘I intend to lodge a complaint, Sergeant,’ she began. ‘This constable and her female colleague –’ she gestured in Sukey’s direction without taking her gaze from Rathbone – ‘gave my husband and me a firm undertaking that they found nothing to complain of in our treatment of Mrs Donaldson and were advising her son that we had no case to answer. Perhaps,’ she went on, ‘you are here to offer an apology for harassing my staff . . . or perhaps that’s too much to hope for,’ she added with a slight curl of her lip.
Rathbone stood up and Sukey did the same. ‘If you wish to make a complaint about our officers’ previous visit I suggest you put it in writing to the Chief Constable,’ he said. ‘It so happens that we are here today on an entirely different matter.’
‘What matter? Has there been another complaint?’
‘Is your husband available?’
‘My husband is busy. I assure you I am perfectly capable of dealing with any matter you wish to raise.’
‘I’m afraid it’s essential that we speak to both of you.’ Rathbone made shooing movements with his hands to indicate that she should lead him and Sukey to her husband. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, but after a moment’s hesitation she complied.
‘They want to see us both,’ she snapped as she flung open the office door and slammed it shut behind the detectives when they had entered. ‘They wouldn’t tell me anything. It’s nothing short of harassment . . . you must write to the Chief Constable!’
‘Suppose we wait to hear what they’ve got to say,’ Seaton suggested. He was plainly startled by the unexpected arrival of the police, but managed to summon a smile and invited them to sit down. He sat behind the desk and his wife took a chair beside him. ‘What can we do for you, Sergeant?’
‘We are looking into the circumstances of the road accident that took place shortly before three o’clock on the afternoon of Wednesday the thirty-first of July, in which Ms Jennifer Freeman was fatally injured. We understand she paid you a visit on the morning of that day.’
Husband and wife exchanged glances before Seaton said, ‘That is correct. She was here on business. We read about it in the papers . . . a very tragic accident.’
‘Ah yes, on business,’ Rathbone repeated, with emphasis on the last word. ‘After the report of the accident appeared in the press we received an anonymous call from a man who stated that she had been at a business meeting, but gave no details.’ He fixed a penetrating gaze on Seaton. ‘Would that have been you, sir?’
‘My husband is not in the habit of making anonymous telephone calls,’ said his wife.
‘Perhaps he’d care to answer for himself.’ Rathbone turned back to Seaton. ‘Sir?’
‘I assure you, Sergeant, that the call did not come from me,’ Seaton replied firmly. ‘I can confirm that Ms Freeman had an appointment here at eleven o’clock on that day to show us some fabric samples. We have awarded her firm a contract to replace the curtains and reupholster the chairs in the residents’ lounge.’
‘How long did the meeting last?’
Seaton hesitated, but his wife was quick to answer. ‘Approximately an hour.’
‘Until about midday?’
‘About then, I suppose.’
‘Did she have another appointment?’
‘She might have done. She didn’t say.’
‘Did you offer her any refreshment while she was here?’ asked Sukey.
Carla shot her a disdainful look before saying, ‘We had coffee in the office while we were discussing the details of the contract.’
‘Who made the coffee?’
Carla made an impatient gesture. ‘One of the domestic staff.’ She turned back to Rathbone. ‘Really, Sergeant, what on earth has all this to do with Ms Freeman’s tragic accident?’
‘How did Ms Freeman take her coffee?’ asked Rathbone. ‘With milk and sugar?’
Seaton looked enquiringly at his wife, who said, ‘I don’t remember. What difference does it make?’
‘So the business discussion ended at approximately midday. What happened next?’
‘Ms Freeman put her samples away and was preparing to leave when Carla asked her if she would like to stay for lunch,’ said Seaton.
‘Was this an impromptu invitation on your wife’s part or had you agreed on it beforehand?’
‘Carla said nothing about it in advance, but of course I was more than happy to endorse it.’
‘We already know about the invitation,’ said Sukey. ‘I spoke to Ms Freeman’s assistant this morning and she told me about it. She said Carla Seaton had apologized for being “a bit unpleasant” at an earlier meeting and had invited her “by way of making amends”. What do you think she meant by “a bit unpleasant”, Mrs Seaton?’
Carla made what seemed to Sukey a conscious effort to convey a conciliatory attitude. ‘You must understand,’ she said, in milder tones, ‘that I have a very demanding and responsible position and there are times when I tend to get a little short-tempered. I apologized for any apparent discourtesy on my part during our initial discussions and I wanted to make it clear there was nothing personal intended.’
‘Of course there wasn’t; it was a very nice gesture on your part, dear,’ said her husband.
‘All the more unfortunate that it had such a disastrous sequel,’ Rathbone remarked. ‘Do you remember what food you served?’
‘We had the same menu as the residents. Do you want me to check?’
‘Yes, please.’
Seaton consulted his computer. ‘We had shepherd’s pie with fresh vegetables, followed by fruit salad and cream.’
‘What about drinks?’
‘We offered her a sherry, but she declined. Then she caught sight of a bottle of Campari on the sideboard and said, “Oh, my favourite poison! May I have that?”’
‘Did she drink it neat or with soda?’
‘She had a splash of soda, but she said, “Not too much, I like the bitter flavour.”’
‘How many drinks did she have?’
‘She accepted a second Campari, but after that she drank only water.’
‘I see. That confirms the pathologist’s findings that the level of alcohol in her blood was well below the legal limit. You may have heard that the inquest was held yesterday and the coroner was naturally anxious to establish the precise cause of the accident.’ Rathbone paused briefly to give the Seatons an opportunity to comment, but neither of them spoke. ‘Since certain questions remained unanswered, it was adjourned pending further enquiries, which is why we are here. Mrs Seaton –’ at this point he fixed his gaze directly on her – ‘among your residents there must be many who are prescribed medication by their doctors. Who has charge of the drugs – the patients?’
She appeared surprised, and to Sukey almost relieved, by the sudden change in the line of questioning. ‘Certainly not,’ she said crisply. ‘All prescriptions are handed to me or my husband and we order the drugs from a local pharmacy.’
‘And they are delivered to you here?’
‘Yes. As a qualified nurse I take responsibility for all drugs. I keep them under lock and key and dispense them to the patients in accordance with their doctors’ instructions.’
‘You give them to each patient yourself?’
‘Either I do it personally or I instruct another suitably qualified member of staff. In any case, we have to make sure that patients actually take their medication. Some of them are a bit vague so we have to keep an eye on them,’ she added.
‘By the way –’ the tone was deceptively casual – ‘do any of your residents complain of night cramps?’
‘None of them has complained to me.’
‘My mother used to be disturbed by cramp in her legs,’ said Sukey. ‘Her doctor prescribed quinine tablets; she said they were a great help.’
‘Current medical opinion advises against the use of quinine for cramp,’ said Carla.
‘So it hasn’t been prescribed for any of your residents?’
‘Definitely not.’ She glanced pointedly at her watch. ‘Have you any further questions?’
‘Thank you,’ said Rathbone. He stood up. ‘That’s all for now. We’ll see ourselves out,’ he added as Seaton half rose from his chair.
‘Do you think Seaton was telling the truth when he denied making that anonymous call, Sarge?’ asked Sukey as they went back to their car.
‘I do, as it happens, although like you I thought he seemed the most likely person. Could it have been one of the residents?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ said Sukey, mentally resolving to check with Harry if he had spoken to Major Howes recently, ‘but what would be the point unless the caller suspected something?’ A thought struck her. ‘So far we’ve only seen female staff; I wonder if there are any male employees here?’
‘There’s probably an odd-job man, or a gardener. Speaking of which . . .’ Rathbone pointed across the front garden to where a man was hoeing one of the flower beds.
Sukey stopped in the act of clipping on her seat belt. ‘Shall we go and have a word?’
‘Later, when we come back.’
‘When are we coming back?’
‘As soon as we can get hold of a search warrant.’
‘So what’s new?’ asked Vicky as Sukey settled down at her computer.
‘Plenty,’ Sukey replied. ‘Let’s grab some lunch when I’ve finished my report and I’ll fill you in with the details. The plot is definitely thickening.’ She finished her report, emailed it to DCI Leach and the rest of the team, and then made two phone calls, one to Harry and the other to Hazel Norton. She sat back and flexed her arms. ‘Ready when you are,’ she said to Vicky. They made their way down to the canteen and joined the queue. ‘What sort of a morning have you had, by the way?’
‘Fascinating,’ said Vicky. ‘Penny and I had the task of checking on Cowell’s photographs and it seems Seaton used the same hotel on several occasions, and not just with Fenella. She had at least one predecessor; there may have been more but the receptionist we spoke to has only been there about eighteen months.’
‘Carla obviously had reason for her suspicions,’ said Sukey. I wonder if she ever tackled him about it.’
‘Probably. And no doubt he shed tears of contrition and promised to be a good boy—’
‘Until next time,’ Sukey finished as Vicky paused to take a bite of her bacon sandwich. ‘I believe that, knowing his track record, she saw Jennifer as her next potential rival and unexpectedly saw a chance to get even.’
‘So you believe she did sneak the quinine into Jennifer’s drink?’
‘I reckon so, although like DCI Leach I doubt if she had murder in mind. I think it’s more likely she was hoping Jennifer would become disorientated and make a fool of herself in front of Brian. I checked with Hazel and she said Jennifer always drinks strong black coffee without sugar, which of course tastes very bitter. I dare say there was some comment about it – maybe Jennifer said that was why she liked it – and Carla hit on the idea of inviting her to lunch knowing they had Campari in the drinks cupboard. She was probably going to offer it anyway, banking on its bitter flavour concealing the bitterness of the quinine she was planning to put in it. Jennifer played into her hands by asking for it.’
‘Carla must have a razor-sharp brain to concoct her plan so quickly.’ Vicky finished her sandwich and began tackling her portion of chocolate gateau. ‘So what happens next?’
‘We go back to Holmwood with a warrant and check for quinine.’
On the way back to the canteen, Sukey’s mobile rang. ‘Is that DC Sukey?’ It was a woman’s voice and it sounded familiar.
‘Speaking. Who’s calling?’
‘This is Barbara Melrose. I’m calling from Holmwood Care Centre. I’ve just overheard something I think you should know about.’
‘What is it?’
‘The Seatons have been having a flaming row. Something about quinine tablets prescribed for old Mrs Donaldson. He said, “Why didn’t you tell them?” and she said, “What was the point? The old lady’s dead.” Then he said, “What became of them?” and she said, “What is this? Are you accusing me of bumping off your latest floozie? I’m not staying here to listen to this rubbish.” I thought she was about to come out of the office any second so I hurried into the residents’ lounge just across the corridor.’
‘Where are you calling from?’
‘I’m in the nurses’ room. Sally’s here with me.’
‘Did she overhear the Seatons as well?’
‘No, I told her about it and she said I should call you straight away.’
‘Absolutely right. Now listen, when’s the next time Mrs Seaton will unlock the drugs cabinet?’
‘About seven o’clock, when the patients have their evening meal.’
‘Right. Can you and Sally between you manage to keep an eye on the drugs cabinet and let us know at once if Mrs Seaton goes to it before the usual time?’
‘Will do.’
‘Cheers.’
When she got back to the office she hurried over to Rathbone’s desk and reported the call. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ve got the warrant. Let’s go!’
EIGHTEEN
‘What in the world do you want now?’ demanded a furious Carla Seaton, leaping to her feet as Rathbone and Sukey entered the office. ‘Haven’t we suffered enough harassment and inconvenience already? And how dare you come marching in here without even having the courtesy to knock at the door?’
‘Sorry, this is no time for formalities,’ said Rathbone. ‘We have a warrant to search the premises and I must ask you to remain in this room for the time being. We have no wish to cause unnecessary disturbance to your residents,’ he went on, ‘and we see no need to enter the lounge or their private rooms for the time being. Where is your husband?’
At that moment Brian Seaton entered in an obvious state of agitation. ‘Whatever’s going on?’ he gasped. ‘There are a dozen police officers waiting outside the front door.’
Carla grabbed hold of his arm and shook it. ‘These two detectives are back . . . they want to search the place . . . they’ve got a warrant . . . tell them it must be a mistake, we’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘Please, both of you, sit down.’ said Rathbone. He held out a hand. ‘Mrs Seaton, please give me the key to your drugs cabinet.’
For a moment Sukey thought she was going to defy him, but after a brief hesitation she opened a drawer in the desk, took out a key attached to a bright red tag and gave it to him. ‘The cabinet is in a locked cupboard; this opens both of them. If you’re expecting to find a supply of Class A drugs you’re wasting your time,’ she added with an attempt at bravado. ‘Everything in there is perfectly legitimate and properly accounted for.’
‘We shall see.’ He gave the key to Sukey. ‘Let the officers in and ask them to wait while you find our contact. You know what to do. Then come back here.’
‘Right, Sarge.’ Barbara Melrose had told her the exact location of the nurses’ sitting room and she was waiting there when Sukey entered. ‘Right, the search party’s downstairs,’ she said, ignoring the curious glances from two other occupants. ‘I’ll take you to the officer in charge.’
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Back in the entrance hall, Sukey introduced Barbara to Sergeant Drury. ‘Nurse Melrose will show you round,’ she informed him. ‘DS Rathbone says there’s no need to search the residents’ lounge or any of their private rooms for the time being. Here’s the key to the drugs cupboard. DS Rathbone and I are interviewing Mr and Mrs Seaton in their office. If you find anything, let us know straight away.’
‘Will do.’
Leaving them to it, Sukey returned to find Rathbone sitting in a relaxed position with his legs crossed. When she entered he sat upright and indicated the chair beside him. She sat down and looked across at the Seatons, who sat side by side behind the desk. He was toying nervously with a glass paperweight while she sat as if turned to stone, her face expressionless.
‘Right,’ said Rathbone, ‘we want answers to some of the questions we asked this morning, and this time we want the truth. Mrs Seaton, do you recall DC Reynolds mentioning that her mother’s doctor had prescribed quinine tablets to relieve her night cramps?’
‘I can’t say I do,’ she replied.
Rathbone turned to Sukey. ‘Perhaps you would refresh Mrs Seaton’s memory.’
Sukey opened her notebook and read out the references to quinine, ending with Rathbone asking whether it had been prescribed for any Holmwood residents. ‘And what did Mrs Seaton reply?’ he asked.
‘She replied “definitely not”.’
‘Mrs Seaton, I’m asking you once again,’ said Rathbone, ‘has quinine been prescribed at any time for any of your residents?’
Carla Seaton passed a hand over her forehead and appeared to be searching her memory. ‘I suppose it’s possible at some time or another,’ she said vaguely, ‘but it would have been quite a while ago. It is still used in the treatment of malaria – but as you can imagine we don’t have many cases of that here,’ she added with a touch of sarcasm. ‘And as I think I told you, it is no longer prescribed for night cramps.’
‘As you think you told us,’ Rathbone repeated, slowly and with emphasis on each individual word. Carla’s colour rose as she realized her mistake. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her mouth, where Sukey had already noticed beads of sweat on the upper lip. Rathbone pulled his chair forward and planted his elbows on the desk. Sukey could not see his face but from past experience she could visualize his steady, penetrating gaze. Carla’s hands were shaking. ‘First you claim not to remember any reference in our previous interview to quinine being prescribed for the relief of night cramps,’ he began, ‘and in the next breath you point out that you had already informed us that its use for that purpose has been discontinued.’
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