by K E O'Connor
“What did you do to Beatrice to make her more amenable?”
“I tried a few things.” Cecil gave a weary sigh. “To begin with, I was simply kind to her. I spent as much time with her as possible, trying to get her to see the real me, see how we could be happy together.”
“And I take it that didn’t work?”
“She was kind, but I could see in her eyes she didn’t want to spend any time with me.”
“Did you do anything else to Beatrice?”
“I gave her gifts,” said Cecil. “But she didn’t care about material things. In fact, that was one of the things I loved about her.”
“And that’s all you did? You tried to woo her, and it didn’t succeed?”
Cecil cast me a guilty look. “It’s all going to come out now, anyway. I really should leave.”
I forced myself to stay calm. “What are they going to find when they do more tests on Beatrice’s body?”
“Possibly nothing,” said Cecil. “It was Douglas’s idea. This is his fault. The police were right to arrest him.”
“What did you do?”
“Douglas told me about the trick he used with difficult women.”
“You mean drugging their drinks and taking advantage of them?” I glared at Cecil. “That’s hardly a trick; that’s illegal.”
“Yes, that.” Cecil’s gaze dropped to the floor. “He told me it worked like a charm. All it did was reduce inhibitions. It sounded like the perfect solution to me. I only needed to break down Beatrice’s barriers and stop her from repressing her true feelings for me.”
“So you drugged her?” I shot a look at the closed door of the study. It seemed like a long way away, and the manic expression on Cecil’s face was unsettling me.
“At first, it was just one pill now and again, whenever I could get one into her. And when she took them, she did seem more interested in me. We would talk for hours, and I finally felt as if I were getting through to her.”
“But the pills didn’t work well enough? Beatrice didn’t fall in love with you.”
“That’s the trouble with those kinds of pills,” said Cecil. “Your body gets used to the drugs, and you need to up the dose to have the same impact. It’s why they’re rarely prescribed anymore. I had a load of out of date medication in my surgery that would only have been destroyed. I saw no harm in using it on Beatrice.”
“No harm at all. Other than the fact she is dead.”
Cecil's eyes filled with tears. “Yes, other than that.”
I stood up from my seat. “You killed Beatrice!”
Chapter 21
Flipper jumped to his feet as he heard the alarm in my voice, his ice blue gaze settling on Cecil.
“I swear her death was an accident,” said Cecil. “I’d had a heavy few days at the surgery, and a few equally heavy nights drinking with Douglas. I forgot how many pills I’d given Beatrice, one day. I would sometimes grind them up and hide them inside chocolates. That was one thing Beatrice did love; she had a sweet tooth and would never turn down a box of chocolates. But I made a mistake and filled too many of them with the ground up pills. And I didn’t realise she would eat the whole box of chocolates in one sitting.”
“So she ate the chocolates laced with drugs, and then what? Her heart gave out because of the overdose?”
Cecil hung his head. “It must have.”
“But why was her body found in the garden? Did you put her there?”
“No, absolutely not! But the medication has a number of side effects, one of them being hallucinations. It’s quite possible she began seeing things that weren’t there and fled the house in fright. It would explain why she was found outside. But I didn’t mean for it to happen. They can’t charge me for something that was an accident.”
“They can, and they will. You deliberately drugged an innocent woman, trying to make her do something she clearly didn’t want to do. You were so drunk and incompetent that you overdosed her and she died.”
“No, it’s not.” Cecil’s chin wobbled. “I made an error of judgement. Doctors do it all the time.”
“But you did this deliberately,” I said. “Beatrice is dead because of you.”
Cecil let out a groan. “And the autopsy will show the drugs in her system. I didn’t do some of the tests because I was worried such an excessive amount of medication would look strange. Unless someone was trying to do themselves harm, they would never have ingested that amount of sedative. Questions will be raised. I have to leave now whilst I still have the chance.”
“You can’t leave,” I said. “You have to admit to what you’ve done to the police. Otherwise, Douglas will be charged for something he’s innocent of.”
“He deserves to be in prison,” said Cecil. “As you’ve witnessed first-hand, he’s a disgusting example of a human being. What man in his right mind goes around drugging women?”
“I’m looking at one,” I said. “And I agree, Douglas is not a nice man, but he can’t go to prison for something you’ve done.”
“I can’t go to prison either,” said Cecil. “I wouldn’t last five minutes inside a prison cell. I’m not made for prison.”
“You set Douglas up to take the blame over this, didn't you. You planted the drugs in his room. And I bet you’ve got access to Lord Galbraith’s safe. It would have been easy for you to take a few pieces belonging to Beatrice and put them in Douglas’s room.”
“I got nervous, and that’s your fault. You started asking too many questions about Beatrice, and I realised my secret might get out.”
“You framed an innocent man.”
“I may have made it a little easier for the police to discover what sort of vile individual Douglas is,” said Cecil. “You should be thanking me for that and helping me get away. Surely, doing that good deed earns me clemency in your eyes?”
“No, I can’t help you get away with this. Beatrice is convinced it was her brother who killed her. She needs to know the truth.”
Cecil blinked at me several times. “You talk about Beatrice as if she is still alive.”
“I know she is dead, but I also know she’s not at peace. You need to be held accountable for what you’ve done. It’s what Beatrice would want.”
“You cannot know what a woman you have never met would have wanted.”
“I know she wouldn’t want the man who is supposed to love her do her any harm. If you truly love Beatrice, you would come clean.”
“But Beatrice would thank me for making sure Douglas could do no more harm to women,” said Cecil.
“Do you believe that? What would Beatrice say if she knew what you’d done to her?” I glanced around the room, hoping Beatrice would materialise and discover Cecil’s involvement in her death. But the air remained still, and Flipper was not alerting me to any signs of her ghostly presence.
Cecil gave a mirthless laugh. “She would most likely not say anything. Unless you had four legs and a tail, she barely noticed you.”
“Well, I know she would want you to do the decent thing. The right thing. Come clean and confess what you did to her. Perhaps the police will consider your actions more kindly if you make a confession now.”
Cecil sank into the chair, as if the air had deflated out of him. “People cannot know what I have done.”
“They’re going to know, even if I have to tell them.”
Cecil glared at me. “I do like you, Lorna. I wish you could have kept your nose out of this matter.”
“And I liked you, too, until I realised what you’d done to Beatrice.”
Cecil reached down and opened his case. He paused, then gave a swift nod. “Are you sure you have to tell the police about what I’ve informed you of? This could be our secret. I'll give you all the sleeping pills you need if you're still having problems sleeping.”
My gaze went to his case. “This is not the sort of secret I want to keep.”
Cecil’s lips trembled. “Such a pity.”
I watched as he extracted
a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Make sure my secret is kept forever. You are the only one who knows what happened.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” I said swiftly. “Beatrice knows as well.”
“But my beloved Beatrice is dead.”
“Other people have their suspicions about you. Helen is not certain about you, and the gardener has his concerns.”
“I really don’t have much to worry about in that case.” Cecil inspected the contents of the vial. “A seamstress and a gardener will not be believed over my word. I am a trusted and respected doctor in this area.”
“Beatrice!” Panic made my voice hitch. “I need your help.”
Cecil filled the syringe and tapped the side of it. “You are a strange one. It almost sounds as if you can speak to the dead. Maybe your death could be attributed to psychotic delusions. I could fake a few records of appointments, where you discussed your feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts. Your death wouldn’t come as much of a surprise if I did that.”
Flipper growled, his head lowered as he glared at Cecil, seeming to recognise his malicious intent against me.
“You would be wise to call your dog off,” said Cecil. “I blame those animals for taking Beatrice’s affection away from me. If she hadn’t been so obsessed with her own beasts, she would have paid me more attention. We might have had a chance at happiness. But her animals ruined that. I’ll not hesitate in putting him down if I have to. These drugs work just as well on animals.”
I didn’t want to risk Flipper getting hurt, and I knew he would protect me if he thought I was under threat. “Flipper, heel.” I beckoned him over, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he obeyed me, his gaze remaining on Cecil.
“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said Cecil.
“I’m not going to let you kill me,” I said.
“You won’t feel a thing, barely a scratch on your arm as I inject you. It’s a fast acting sedative. You will be unconscious in seconds. As your heartbeat slows, you won’t be aware of any pain or discomfort. It will be as if you fell asleep. The only difference being you will never wake up.”
“That’s not going to happen.” My stomach clenched, fear coursing through me.
“Then you pick the hard way,” said Cecil. “But know this; I am not going to prison. And if that means removing you, then so be it.”
Flipper whined and pawed at the ground. The air around me chilled, and I let out a sigh of relief. My ghostly cavalry had arrived.
“Beatrice,” I breathed out her name.
“Stop saying her name.” Cecil stood up. “The woman is dead; she cannot help you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” My hair lifted as Beatrice shot past me, her eyes blazing as she blasted through Cecil.
He dropped the syringe and stumbled back a few steps. “What was that?” His gaze went to the closed windows.
“It looks like the dead aren’t quite as dead as you thought,” I said. “Beatrice is here to tell you how unhappy she is with you.”
Cecil’s face paled, two tiny red dots left on each cheek. “Impossible!”
“Beatrice, why don’t you show Cecil how angry you are?” I pressed my back against one wall, making sure to keep Flipper by my side and out of the way of Beatrice and Cecil.
Beatrice materialised in front of me and winked, before turning to Cecil and launching herself at him, once again. He stumbled back another few steps as she shot through him.
“This is madness,” he yelled. “Whatever you are doing, make it stop.”
“Providing you make a full confession about what you did, I will,” I said. “Or rather, Beatrice will.”
“I do not believe in ghosts.” Cecil’s panicked gaze roved around the room. “She cannot be here. My love is dead.”
Beatrice threw a chair against the wall, and it smashed into pieces, making us all jump.
“This must be some kind of magic trick.” Cecil’s mouth wobbled as he looked at the broken pieces of chair. “It can’t be real. Beatrice is dead. I killed her.”
“Yes, you did. And you must confess to that,” I said, “or you will never have any peace. Beatrice will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Beatrice hovered next to Cecil for a second, a mixture of sadness and anger crossing her face.
“Beatrice, if it is of any comfort to you, I don’t think Cecil meant to do you harm. He did make a mistake, even though I know that’s not much good to you now.”
Cecil sank to the floor, his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to do it. I made a terrible error. I thought I could make her love me. I thought I was doing the right thing. Women can be so stubborn.”
I exchanged a glance with Beatrice, and we shook our heads in unison. Cecil wasn’t doing much to endear himself to either of us.
“Are you ready to make a confession?” I asked him.
He nodded slowly, still on his knees. “I killed Beatrice Galbraith.”
I sighed. “I mean, are you going to confess to the police? Are you going to make sure Douglas is released and you are tried for the crime you committed?”
Cecil looked up at me, his expression frantic. “I cannot go to prison.” He lunged across the floor and grabbed the syringe he’d dropped. He threw himself at me, syringe in hand. I ducked out of the way and circled behind the desk.
Beatrice launched a candlestick at Cecil, and he jumped out of the way. “They will not take me. I still have time to get away.”
Flipper snarled and made a lunge at Cecil’s trousers. He kicked out and Flipper yelped.
“No! You do not hurt my dog.” I grabbed a heavy antique looking vase from the mantelpiece and smashed it over Cecil’s head.
Cecil dropped to the ground like a stone. Blood trickled from his forehead where I had hit him with the vase; the syringe on the floor next to him.
I ran over to Flipper, my heart pounding, worried he had been injured by Cecil's wild kick. I couldn’t feel any damage to his ribs, and after several reassuring strokes, he relaxed and licked my face.
I looked over at Cecil. “He tried to hurt Flipper. I couldn’t let him do that.”
Beatrice floated to my side, and rested a ghostly hand on top of mine. She nodded at me and smiled. Here was a woman after my own heart. We both knew what we needed to do to keep our loved ones safe; even if those loved ones had four legs and fur, they were just as important.
“It’s time to call in the police,” I said.
Chapter 22
“Tell me one more time what happened.” Helen stared at me with wide eyes over the kitchen table.
“You must be bored of hearing about it by now,” I said. A day had passed since Cecil tried to attack me with a syringe, having confessed to drugging Beatrice.
“We’re not.” Zach tapped the side of his mug. “I won't ever get bored of hearing about how you and a ghost felled the real killer, and how you knocked Cecil out because he tried to hurt Flipper.”
“It’s not as exciting as it sounds.” My hands still trembled as I clasped the half-empty mug of tea in front of me.
“So, Cecil drugged Beatrice because she refused to date him,” said Helen. “That’s creepy.”
“That’s what he confessed to,” I said. “Seems as if, once the police got wind there was something wrong with Beatrice’s death, and they planned to exhume the body, Cecil got scared. He was so nervous when he came into Lord Galbraith’s study. I’m not sure what he planned to do if he’d found Lord Galbraith and talked to him. But from what Cecil said, he was planning to make his escape before the police put everything together and realised they were charging the wrong man with Beatrice’s death.”
“Maybe Cecil was going to ask for some money to help him get away?” suggested Helen.
“Or he wanted to make a confession to someone he was supposed to be friends with,” said Zach. “His conscience could have made him feel too guilty to
leave without telling the truth.”
“Either of those theories are possible,” I said.
“And the tests they are planning to do would show a large amount of drugs in Beatrice’s system?” asked Zach. “Wouldn’t they have disappeared after so many years?”
“Toxicology tests are advanced,” said Helen. “I bet they’d be able to find traces of all sorts of things in Beatrice’s system, including the drugs Cecil used on her.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I watch the crime programmes on TV. Modern science is wonderful,” said Helen.
“It’s no wonder Cecil was so panicked,” I said. “If he hadn’t run the tests deliberately when he did the initial autopsy, it would be another mark of guilt against him. It would show he knew something bad would show up, and fingers would be pointed in his direction. Cecil also confessed to having a large supply of the medication he used to drug Beatrice.”
“They may find his fingerprints on some of the drugs he stashed to frame Douglas,” said Helen.
“Yes, the police should find more evidence to implicate him,” I said. “But they still want my statement. When I spoke to one of the officers, they weren’t impressed that I hit Cecil over the head and knocked him out. They think he might have a concussion.”
“But he tried to stab you with a syringe full of goodness knows what,” said Helen. “You had the right to defend yourself.”
“I did point that out to the police. They are taking it into consideration and will most likely rule it as self-defence. If I hadn’t hit him, he would have drugged me. And he most definitely would have hurt Flipper. And I couldn’t have that.”
“If it’s any help, I have a brother in the police,” said Zach. “He might be able to smooth things over for you. You’ll still have to give your statement, but he can make sure they don’t focus on you. Wouldn’t want them to start asking questions about your ghostly abilities.”
