Dead to Me

by Pamela Murray

  ‘What did you tell my friend?’ Maria demanded, banging her fists on the table so hard that the crystal ball shook on its stand, but Madame Ortiz quickly gathered up her cards and put them back into the pack. She too was shaking; her apparent air of tranquillity having left her. What could she have told Caroline that had got them both into this state?

  ‘I cannot reveal what the cards said to someone not destined to hear it.’

  ‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’

  The fortune teller looked stunned by Maria’s outburst. ‘Like I said–’

  ‘You’ve scared the crap out of her, and you don’t look much better either. Now what did you say?’ It was more of a demand than a question.

  ‘Like I said, I cannot.’ She was more composed now, and Maria could tell that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with her questioning so she turned to leave.

  ‘Don’t you want your reading?’

  Maria couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. ‘You have to be kidding, surely?’

  ‘No, not at all. You came for a reading so I am obliged to give you one.’

  ‘After what’s just happened?’

  ‘Sometimes the cards show us difficult things . . .’

  ‘You know I don’t believe in all this, right?’

  Madame Ortiz nodded. ‘But don’t you want to know about your marriage?’

  Maria stared at her in shock. ‘What did you just say to me?’

  ‘Your marriage. That’s why you came here, wasn’t it? You want to know about John’s past history; the things he hasn’t told you?’

  ‘How . . . how did you know my husband’s name? Did Caroline tell you?’

  ‘Nobody told me, I just know things.’

  This was too much for Maria. The woman was a charlatan, a fraud. So how could she know about her husband and, more to the point, what did Ortiz know about his past history – something she knew very little about herself?

  ‘All right then, I’ll go along with your little game.’ Maria sat down on the seat opposite Ortiz. ‘Deal me the cards and tell me what you see in them. Then you’re going to really tell me how you know what you say you know.’

  ***

  Maria watched as the cards were shuffled then put into three separate piles. Madame Ortiz then collected up the piles into one larger one, shuffled again, then dealt five cards face up in a row on the table. Although still seething, Maria tried to keep her cool. She had no idea what any of the cards meant; she did however know that Tarot cards had odd old fashioned-looking pictures on them signifying goodness knows what. Gobbledygook, most likely; at least that’s how the whole thing looked to her. But, having seen Caroline’s face after she’d left this room, and hearing what the fortune teller had just told her, she wanted to know more.

  Madame Ortiz frowned at the cards in a way that disturbed Maria.

  ‘What is it?’ Maria demanded, but the only response was a shake of the head.

  ‘Your marriage will not last. Seeds have already been sown that will cause it all to end quite soon.’

  That was the final straw. Maria rose from her seat, sending the chair flying backwards. ‘My husband and I are very happy I’ll have you know!’ she declared with more than a tad of venom in her voice. ‘You’re sick, you know that? Sick.’

  And with that outburst she turned her back on the woman and marched out of the room, returning to her friends.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said, not even stopping as she passed by, and completely ignoring their questioning expressions.

  ‘Wait . . . wait . . .’ Maria could hear Barbara calling after her, but by now she was half-way down the stairs heading straight for the front door. She didn’t stop until she was standing on the pavement at the front of the building waiting for the others to follow. Fury rose inside of her. How dare she say that to me. She was furious at the phony, money-grabbing woman and her pathetic little parlour tricks. The approaching sound of her girlfriends and their collective high heels clattering loudly on the stair treads made her turn around.

  ‘What happened?’ Caroline asked, apparently recovered from her card reading.

  ‘What do you mean what happened; I went in there to sort her out after what she must have said to you.’

  ‘No, no,’ Caroline grabbed Maria’s hand, ‘I was only pretending she’d said something off to me just to see the look on all your faces!’

  ‘What?’ Maria couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t have been the case as Madame Ortiz herself had been disturbed. ‘But she must have said something to you; she was in the same sort of state as you when I went barging in there.’

  Now it was Caroline’s turn to say ‘What?’

  ‘Oh look, let’s just forget the whole thing and put it down to experience.’ Selina was her old practical self, as ever. If something wasn’t as she’d expected, she’d just move on and forget about it. Knowing her, she could happily go home tonight and forget about the whole thing.

  However, Maria would not let it go. ‘So, you’re saying that your little act when you came out was all put on just to fool us?’ She shuddered when a sudden coldness flooded through her. Was it annoyance, or was it the fact they were now standing outside on the pavement despite it being a warm evening?

  But Caroline was ruminating over what Maria had said before. ‘What do you mean she was in a state too?’

  ‘Stop it Caroline!’ Maria spat. ‘You two have probably hatched this little trick together, knowing how I’d react to it–’

  ‘Now wait a minute,’ Caroline stopped her mid-sentence, ‘it cost a lot of money to book this appointment for us all tonight; do you think I arranged this just to get you riled up? You must think an awful lot of yourself to believe that!’

  ‘Now come on you two,’ Barbara intervened, ‘this is not what you’re like.’

  ‘Let’s all just call it a night, what do you say?’ Selena, as ever, taking the peaceful route in order to pacify what was now turning into a heated conversation.

  Barbara agreed while Maria and Caroline were still eye-locked with one another.

  ‘Okay, I’ll call us a cab then.’

  All four were silent in the taxi; the night ruined. Maria now wondered why they’d even come out for the evening in the first place. She hadn’t seen all three of her friends since her wedding, and had been looking forward to tonight as she’d really missed their old get-togethers, but this had put a strain on her friendship with Caroline in particular. The others had been fine, but she had been particularly venomous towards her for some unknown reason.

  Selina arrived at her destination first, followed by Caroline, leaving Maria alone with Barbara. Maria hadn’t said goodbye to any of them as they alighted, in fact, she hadn’t spoken to anyone at all since getting in the cab.

  ‘I’m sorry about all that,’ Barbara began, worried that the evening was going to put a barrier between them all, ‘I really don’t know what’s wrong with Caroline these days. I saw her the other week, and I swear she was a bit off with me as well.’

  But she didn’t get an answer from Maria, who was now sitting with her head resting on the side of the cab and looking away from her.

  ‘Come on Maria, there’s no need to take it out on me; I haven’t done anything wrong to you.’

  As she reached out and put a hand on Maria’s shoulder to reassure her, Maria slumped forward then sideways, with her head ending up on Barbara’s lap.

  ‘Stop the cab, stop the cab,’ she shrieked to the diver, who slammed his brakes on and came to an immediate halt.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, turning around to look at the remaining two passengers behind him. It was then that he saw Maria’s face, and he instantly knew from the expression on her face that she was dead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sally Fielding had just fallen asleep when her phone rang on the bedside table, and it took a few seconds for her to fully get her bearings. Reaching out to answer it, she saw
that the caller was her boss, DCI Ambleton, who was on-call for the evening. Sally knew that it must be important if she was calling her in. A few more weeks and her boss would be free of all this, taking the early retirement she’d happily told them about at the beginning of the year.

  ‘Yes boss,’ she said, after sliding the green answer indicator to the right.

  ‘Sorry to bother you so late, Sally, especially with it being your night off, but I was called out to Pendlebury a short while ago regarding the death of a young woman returning home after a night out. The on-duty forensic pathologist was concerned about the manner in which she’d died, and for that reason he’s agreed to do a post mortem first thing in the morning. The deceased has been taken to the Royal Oldham Hospital, so can I ask you to ring Joe and the pair of you go there for half eight and take over the case?’

  ‘Yes, of course we will,’ Fielding replied. ‘Anyone in particular to report to?’

  ‘Dr Ben Adamson; he was the duty pathologist. I’ve told him you and Joe will be attending, so he’ll be expecting you. I’ll also email over my report to you and Joe when it’s finished.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll be there.’ And with that she ended the call. It was then she sensed a stirring in the bed next to her.

  ‘When did you come to bed?’ she asked, looking across to both of her cats, Sooty and Sweep. Last time she’d seen them they were curled up in a ball at one end of the sofa in the living room, but they must have sneaked in after Joe had left.

  ‘He’s left it nice and warm for you, hasn’t he?’ she laughed. They responded to the sound of her voice by stretching and snuggling in closer to her. As she stroked them, she pressed 1 to make a call straight through to her partner, Detective Inspector Joe Burton.

  ‘Did I wake you?’ Fielding asked when he answered the phone.

  ‘No, I was still up. Doing a bit of late-night reading.’

  ‘Oh, what are you reading; is it still that one from the other day?’

  ‘Yes,’ he laughed. ‘More like from the other year, though! You know how long it takes me to get through a book.’

  ‘I’m the one who should be reading right now; I’ve got to prep for my inspector exam next month.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Joe assured her. ‘You could pass that now without the need to do any studying.’

  ‘I wish I had your faith!’ she joked as she was dreading the whole thing. She’d even had a bad dream the other night about taking the exam. Having sat down and prepared herself for what lay ahead, she found a blank examination paper in front of her. She’d tried to get the invigilator’s attention, but he completely ignored her. She’d woken up in a cold sweat.

  Shaking off the memory, she then told him about Ambleton’s call.

  ‘Okay. Do you want me to come and pick you up at eight?’

  ‘Yes, that would be good, thanks.’

  And with that they bid one another good night.

  ***

  It was a few minutes before half eight when they arrived at the Royal Oldham Hospital morgue. Normally they would have just walked in and asked at the reception desk, but with it being a Sunday, the place was down to the bare minimum staff-wise, and they had to press a buzzer on the door of the main entrance to get someone to open up for them. Announcing themselves to a disembodied male voice, they were met at the door by a member of the mortuary staff, then taken to Ben Adamson’s downstairs office which adjoined the autopsy room.

  Adamson looked up from his desk as they walked into the room. ‘Detectives Burton and Fielding, how wonderful to see you both again,’ he said, rising to greet them, ‘although, it is always under such dire circumstances, isn’t it!’

  Burton shook his outstretched hand. ‘Hello Ben. It’s good to see you too.’

  The doctor then shook Fielding’s hand. She had always found him to be warm and welcoming. Some of the pathologists she and Burton had encountered over the years had been less friendly, and had just proceeded in a cold and clinical way in her opinion.

  ‘I heard that you’re both in line for a promotion soon.’

  ‘Oh?’ Burton seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Word certainly travels fast around here.’

  ‘Well, congratulations to you both then, and to DCI Ambleton for finally being able to escape from all of this!’

  Once the formalities were over, Adamson directed them to the viewing area where they could watch while he performed the autopsy. Burton had been to more of these over the years than he cared to think about, and usually attended alone as he was fully aware of his partner’s aversion to them.

  ‘Now, I know that you are aware as to how this works,’ Adamson stated, looking towards Burton.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been to far too many of them, I’m afraid,’ Burton said.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Adamson nodded understandingly. ‘But how about you, detective sergeant, as I haven’t seen you at many of these?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Fielding said, forcing a smile. Even though it was something that she was dreading, she wasn’t going to back out.

  ‘All right then, let’s get started,’ Adamson said before heading off to the changing room to don his protective clothing in order to begin.

  ‘You okay with this?’ Burton turned to his partner after he’d left.

  ‘Yes,’ she said somewhat hesitantly. ‘If I’m aiming to be a detective inspector then I’ll have to get used to a whole lot more I imagine.’

  ‘That’s true, sadly.’

  For the next twenty minutes they watched in silence as Dr Adamson completed his investigation of the body. Fielding overcame her queasiness early on in the proceedings as a matter of necessity, forcing herself to think about the needs of her future role and how she’d be required to stand there looking at a dead body being cut up more frequently. It helped that at one point Burton grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She appreciated that; but then that was Joe Burton, courteous to a fault.

  Dr Adamson conducted his investigation professionally throughout, keeping them abreast of every single thing he was doing. Maria Turnbull would have appreciated his thoroughness too, no doubt.

  ‘A very healthy woman, considering,’ Adamson said at his briefing afterwards. ‘Of course, I need to see her medical records as well in case there are any underlying disorders.’

  ‘So, what did she die of?’ Fielding asked, wondering how someone so apparently fit and well could end up on the mortuary slab at such a young age.

  ‘I’ll be able to tell you better after the blood and toxicity results come back, and when I’ve seen her medical history, of course.’

  ‘Which should be when?’ Burton hoped that it would be sooner rather than later.

  ‘With it being a Sunday, the labs only have a limited number of staff in attendance, but I can take samples and send them off and mark them down as urgent. I wouldn’t expect anything back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.’

  ‘Any idea as to cause of death?’

  ‘Well, from what I can see, I’d say she was poisoned at some point within the last few hours of her death.’

  ‘How are you able to tell?’ Fielding asked out of curiosity.

  ‘The colour of her skin in certain areas, detective,’ he said. ‘Alcohol poisoning can cause the skin to turn a shade of blue on parts of the body, and there is a distinct hue around certain parts.’

  ‘Alcohol poisoning? So this could have simply been a case of her drinking too much then?’ Fielding asked, wondering why Adamson considered her death to be suspicious if that were the case.

  ‘Well . . .’ Adamson’s voice trailed off, evidently not wholly convinced.

  ‘So, you don’t think it was accidental?’

  ‘The blue hue can be caused by extreme hypothermia, or a low body temperature. When I was called in last night to take a first look at the body in situ, I could confirm that her body temperature was normal. For that reason, I thought that it was a suspicious death; but l
et’s wait until the results come back from the lab, shall we, when we’ll have more in-depth information. But I have to say, I’d be very surprised if poisoning wasn’t the cause.’

  Thanking Dr Adamson for coming in to do the autopsy on a Sunday morning, they decided to head to the station to go over DCI Ambleton’s initial paperwork on the case.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Back at the station, Burton and Fielding went over the crime scene report, together with the accompanying photographs. Even though this was a Sunday morning, the CSI team would have already uploaded everything they’d taken from the previous evening. As crime never stops, neither does the all the behind-the-scenes forensic work. Burton couldn’t praise the work they did enough, them and the attending pathologist and forensic technicians. As Dr Ben Adamson had thought Maria Turnbull’s death to be suspicious based upon his initial observations, they would tentatively treat it as such and spend time looking into her background until they had the facts back from the lab.

  While Burton sat at his desk in his office and logged in, Fielding grabbed one of the chairs from the main room and wheeled it in to sit alongside him. True to her word, Ambleton’s report was waiting in the inbox; they hadn’t expected it not to be, such was her renowned efficiency. She was still on the ball regardless of her only being a few weeks away from retirement.

  The report itself outlined the circumstances in which the body of Maria Turnbull had been found, together with the movements of herself and her companions prior to her death. Ben Adamson, the on-call doctor, declared Ms Turnbull dead at the scene, expressing concern that it did not look like natural causes as he was concerned about the colour of her skin. The DCI had interviewed the driver of the cab and the other passenger who had been sitting on the back seat next to the deceased. The driver, Bill Beasley, was in a state of shock, as was Selena Douglas. Ambleton went on to say that both women had been out for the evening with two others, whom she’d contacted by telephone. Their details had been added to the report. They’d all been told to expect a visit from the investigating team the next day; the investigating team being Burton and Fielding.