by L M Krier
Ted fixed himself a glass of the cordial, just to be polite, but was then agreeably surprised at how refreshing it was. He went out to join the others. Trev already had Bizzie firmly under his spell, as he generally managed to do with everyone he met.
'Ted tells me you want a ride on the Triumph,' he was saying. 'I'd be delighted to take you myself, so I promise not to drink any more than just this one Pimm's. Ted could take you, of course, but he's very staid and I expect you would enjoy something more exciting, more adventurous.'
He winked at Ted, who had come outside to join them. Ted glared back.
'Just behave yourself,' he said. 'It would be embarrassing enough for me at work if you picked up a speeding ticket, but I'd never hear the end of it if you were pulled over with the Professor on the pillion.'
Lunch was a resounding success. The Professor, who had always seemed a little socially inept to Ted, even more so than himself, was completely relaxed in their company. She kept them both entertained and amused with surprisingly racy stories from her days as a medical student.
As she was preparing to leave, clutching Ted's helmet in gleeful anticipation of the bike ride home, she said apologetically, 'It's scant recompense for such a delightful lunch, but what if I meet you at the hospital at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, so that I can fit your lady in before the start of the day?'
'That would be absolutely brilliant, Bizzie, thank you so much. It can't be me, I'm afraid. I'm having to take a bit more of a back seat on this enquiry, as my grandmother was a victim, and we now know that hers was a suspicious death. Let me just phone my sergeant, Mike Hallam, and see if he can cover for me.'
He took out his mobile and dialled Mike's number.
'Mike? Sorry to disturb your weekend. I'm with Professor Nelson and she's very kindly offered to do our outstanding PM early doors tomorrow. I know you're determined to keep me off this case, so I wondered if you could cover for me? Seven-thirty sharp, at the hospital?'
Mike laughed. 'I walked right into that one, boss,' he said. 'Yes, it's fine, tell the Professor I'll be there. You're with her now? Is it another death?'
'No, a social occasion. Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it.'
'I'll fill you in as soon as I get back. Well, I'll probably stop for a quick bacon sandwich on the way from the hospital. If I eat anything before a PM, I'll only lose it.'
As in the case of Ted's grandmother, the post-mortem revealed little which was immediately conclusive, although the Professor observed that the cardiac ventricles were dilated. They would have to wait for toxicology results for anything more definite, and to see if there was a link between the two cases.
Once again, the Professor was quick to phone Ted back with the results, as promised. She called his mobile early one morning a couple of days later, when he had just arrived at his desk, ahead of his team.
'Fascinating, Edwin, absolutely fascinating,' she positively boomed down the phone. 'I had to call in an enormous number of favours to rush results through, but this is definitely another case of poisoning. This time, however, the toxin is different. It's again plant-based. Toxicology tests revealed traces of various cardiac glycosides, notably digitoxin and digitalin.
'The plant is from the Scrophulariaceae family, most probably digitalis purperea, which you might know better as …'
'Foxglove,' Ted interrupted triumphantly. He didn't know a lot about plants, but he and Trev had thoroughly researched which ones were poisonous to cats before planting anything in their garden.
'Exactly! It's an unusual choice once again, in that, although it can be lethal in very small doses, it has a strong emetic effect. Anyone ingesting it is often so violently sick they expel much of the poison before it can do any harm. It initially causes a rapid rise in heart rate but it can then slow it down to the point where a heart attack can occur, which was the case with this lady.
'And in case you are going to ask me again if this could have been accidental, then once again I would have to rule that very unlikely. If our victim were to have been skipping around the garden munching on the leaves, she would probably have made herself instantly extremely sick but would very likely have gradually recovered. Administered in a higher dosage, however, in something like a cake, could well end in fatality, as in this case.
'I hope that's helpful to you? It is, of course, up to you to say whether the two deaths are connected, and if it amounts to murder. But I would say you need to be looking at people with an extensive knowledge of plants and herb-lore. Quite a specialist knowledge too, with regard to specific lethal doses.
'By the way, thank you so much for Sunday. I did enjoy myself, and your Trevor is absolutely delightful. I had such fun on the back of his bike!'
Ted smiled to himself. Trev had returned grinning widely, eyes sparkling, telling him how, once the Professor had discovered the in-built intercom system on the helmets, she had spent much of the short journey encouraging him to go faster. It was only a short distance to her large house in Davenport Park so, after taking her twice round the block, Trev had offered to take her for a longer spin sometime soon.
'He enjoyed it too, Bizzie, he loves showing his bike off. I'm sure he'll be happy to take you out any time you fancy it. Thanks again for this. You know we're looking at a possible exhumation for the next one?'
'Yes indeed. Bad business, this. Three so far? I'm sure you're hoping as much as I am that there are no more.'
He thanked her again, then rang off and waited for the team to appear. As usual, no one was late. Ted was impressed at the difference he was seeing in Maurice since he had a lodger. Maurice was a natural parent who missed his daughters dreadfully since his divorce, although he still saw them most weekends. Treating Steve more as a son than a lodger was doing him a power of good, especially now that Steve had finally got him to stop smoking. The girls were delighted to have suddenly gained a surrogate older brother and a healthier, smoke-free father.
'Right, Mike, I'm not hijacking your briefing, I just want to fill everyone in on the latest I have from Professor Nelson,' Ted began apologetically. 'As you know, the PM itself showed very little but she phoned me first thing with the tox results. Mrs Maggie Tyler was also poisoned, also with a plant-derived toxin. From the foxglove, this time.
'It's similar to monkshood in the way in which it works. It normally first causes sickness then affects the heart and often leads to a heart attack. And once again, it's extremely unlikely to be an accidental poisoning.'
He nodded to Mike to take over while he perched quietly on a desk to watch his team at work.
'So, are these deaths connected? That's the million dollar question,' the DS began. 'We need to look at the similarities between the cases, including Mrs Protheroe, even though there has been no PM on her yet and no tox report. But we also need to look at any differences between them, balance the two. Coincidences do happen. We shouldn't assume they're linked without positive proof.
'So, similarities first? Common denominators?'
He looked questioningly round the team. A chorus of voices chimed in, 'Angela.'
'Yes, but Sarge, she counts as differences too,' Steve spoke up. 'The name is similar each time but the physical description is totally different every time. Shouldn't we be careful of just assuming it is the same person?'
Mike nodded encouragingly. He started two columns on the white board, labelled them Similarities and Differences and put the name Angela under both headings.
'Same doctor for the first two, different for the third,' Sal offered, while Mike scribbled on the board.
'Are days of the week significant, Sarge? Can we establish any sort of a pattern from that?' Steve asked.
'Good, Steve, check it, please.'
'The fact that all three had few visitors,' Virgil Tibbs added.
'This is going to sound daft,' Maurice began hesitantly, unusually for him, as he normally opened his mouth before engaging his brain. 'Is where the victims sat in the home significant?'
The
rest of the team looked at him questioningly. Mike nodded at him to continue.
'Well, when I went to that home with the boss, the young lad there said Mrs Tyler always sat on the sofa, in the lobby place, just as you go in. And boss, you said there was no real security at the home where your gran was.
'What if, and I hope to hell I'm wrong, we've got a random killer going round, just wandering in to homes and poisoning the first old lady they find sitting by themselves near the doorway? Well, targeting them first, coming a few times to avoid suspicion, then bam! Eat this, granny.'
He realised what he'd said and looked apologetically at Ted.
'Sorry boss, that was tactless, even for me.'
Ted waved away the apology.
'It's fine, Maurice. I wonder if you have something there. What do you think, Mike?'
'It's an interesting theory, Maurice,' Mike said. 'Now all we have to do is find someone with a motive to fit a crime of that nature. Should be a piece of cake – pardon the dreadful pun.'
Chapter Ten
Trev got his way about clothes shopping at the weekend. Once he had made his mind up about something, Trev got his way on anything he wanted. Ted had never learned to say no to him.
They had spent the afternoon at what to Ted was a shopping centre, although Trev had assured him was a designer outlet. As far as Ted could see, that just meant the prices were higher, especially as they were in Cheshire. Trev had insisted, saying it was the place to shop if they were to mix with the Cheshire set.
Trev adored shopping. Ted hated it and was there very much under sufferance. But he had promised to make an effort for Willow's wedding. They had not known Willow and her fiancé Rupert for long, but had become close friends with them both. Ted was particularly fond of Willow, who had helped him through a tough time recently.
They had made an occasion of the outing by enjoying an early evening meal at a small French bistro nearby, which was very good. They had left Ted's now shopping bag-laden Renault in a side-street a short walk away, wanting to avoid the manic crush of cars all trying to leave the outlet's car park at the same time.
They were strolling back to the car after their meal. As they walked past a pub on the corner of a road junction, a group of young women came round the corner towards them. One at the front of the group almost bumped into Ted, who, ever the gentleman, stepped back and to the side, his hands raised in a gesture of appeasement, and apologised.
The women were all in various bizarre outfits. One was wearing L-plates. It looked like a hen party. It also appeared that they were already a long way into a well-oiled pub crawl.
'Oy, watch where you're going, mate,' the one who had almost collided with Ted said, her voice loud, the tone aggressive.
'To be fair, we both rather walked into one another,' Ted said mildly. 'And I have already apologised.'
The woman was about Ted's own size, which was to say not very tall. She had spiky hair, dyed a bright shade of shocking pink. She also had a formidable array of piercings. Both ears were full of rings, as was one eyebrow. She had a big, black labret stud, which looked like an over-sized beauty spot, and a nose ring.
To Ted's surprise, instead of continuing on her way, the woman suddenly clenched both fists and started bouncing round on her toes. Unlike most of her friends, she was wearing flat shoes. Drunk as she clearly was, she certainly knew how to move.
Ted took a careful step back, assessing the way she was weighing him up, trying to work out which martial art was heading his way. He had an answer to most of them.
Left jab. Right cross. Back roundhouse kick. Classic basic kickboxing moves. It would probably have taken down anyone who was not expecting it. Only none of them found a target. Ted moved on the balls of his feet with a speed which made the young woman look as if she was wading through treacle. Her target was simply no longer where she had aimed the blows.
Trev stepped out of the way, chuckling softly to himself.
'Please don't do that,' Ted said pleasantly.
The young woman bounced a bit more on the spot to focus herself. She tucked her chin in with determination. This time her opening jab was followed by an uppercut, then a front kick. But Ted moved so swiftly out of her range that her own momentum took her staggering forward. She would have fallen into the road in front of the passing traffic, had Trev not extended a powerful arm to block her.
'Don't make him angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry,' Trev laughed.
'No, really, please don't do that,' Ted repeated. He could sense the situation was about to turn nasty. With four black belts in martial arts, Ted knew that he was more than capable of stopping her. But despite being a fervent believer in equality, he did not relish the thought of fighting a woman, especially in the street.
The rest of the drunken women were starting to shout encouragement to Pink Hair, who was still bobbing about in front of him. One of them yelled, 'Go on, Jezza, lamp him one!' Some of the others were chanting, 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' with evident glee.
Ted's eyes often appeared to change colour according to his mood. His team knew to watch out when their usual warm, rich hazel started to flash like cold emerald shards. As Pink Hair circled and bobbed, looking for an opening, Ted sighed and positioned himself for defence.
The speed with which he blocked the first jab this time was barely visible to the naked eye. He let Pink Hair's weight take her forward but this time he went with her. He held firmly onto the arm, not causing her any pain, just effectively immobilising her. To a casual observer, they looked like friends, arm in arm, having a chat.
'Look, I strongly advise you just to go with your friends and enjoy the rest of your evening,' Ted told her quietly. 'I don't want any trouble and I'm sure, on reflection, you don't either.'
He let go of her arm and she stood for a moment, looking at him and breathing hard.
'Nar, I can't be arsed,' she said loudly enough for all her friends to hear. 'Lead me to the tequila slammers. Much more fun.'
Trev was still laughing as the group of women staggered on their way into the pub. He grinned at Ted and said, 'Wow, what a little hell-cat! You wouldn't want to meet that alone on a dark night.'
* * *
Ted now had the exhumation order, signed by the coroner, for the body of Mrs Protheroe. He needed to discuss the formalities with the Ice Queen. He also wanted to talk to her about the direction he intended to take the enquiry in next.
Maurice Brown had come back from one of the home visits with more details of a visitor called Angela, and this time he had a surname to add. Angela Mortice was now written up on the white board. Once again, there was a change of physical description. This one had told staff in the home that she was a solicitor who had got to know the person she was visiting when handling her affairs. So far, there had been no death at that home.
Maurice had learned that she would often appear at the home in the afternoon, wearing a smartly-tailored dark suit. She had black hair, always pulled back tightly in a French pleat, and she wore dark-framed glasses. Maurice had asked about cake and was told she always appeared with a small box of expensive fondant fancies from a nearby cake shop.
'I've got the team contacting all the local law firms in the area to ask if they employ someone called Mortice, but nothing so far,' Ted told the Ice Queen. 'I've been wondering if the time has come to try putting someone in undercover at some of the homes, to see if they can spot this Angela. The trouble is, I don't see any of the current team quite fitting in, posing as a care worker.'
'In which case, I may possibly have some good news for you, in the shape of a new team member. If you want to take her,' the Ice Queen replied.
'Why am I feeling there may be reason why I wouldn't want to?' Ted asked suspiciously.
The Ice Queen smiled. 'You know I believe in being totally open and honest, so I will say at the outset that this young woman comes with a bit of a track record. Academically brilliant, top of her intake at Sedgley Park and Area Training in absol
utely everything, was considered for High Potential Development.'
'And the 'but' is?' Ted prompted.
'In a word, attitude,' she replied. 'Now I know you like a challenge, and I know you have an extremely good rapport with all of your team members. I'm not saying this young DC is on her last warning but she has certainly had a few. She is in definite need of the right kind of senior officer to help her to achieve her full potential.
'I think she would be an asset, as she's done a lot of undercover work in her short career so far. She's said to be very good at blending into the background. She can change her appearance very effectively. There's also a note on her file to say she can do accents from, and I'm quoting here, broad Manchester to posh Cheshire.
'So the question is, are you up to the challenge?'
She pushed a personal folder across the desk towards Ted, who picked it up and looked at the name. Jessica Vine.
'Where is she currently serving?' he asked.
'Bolton South.'
'Ah,' Ted said meaningfully. 'From what you tell me, I can imagine her locking horns quite considerably with DI Jill Austin. Her style is a bit more formal than mine, it has to be said.'
'Joining this team could be just what this young woman needs,' the Ice Queen said persuasively. 'There's no pressure on you to take her and you might well want to discuss it with DS Hallam first. Read the file, have a think about it and let me know as soon as you can.'
'I'm presuming that at the moment it's her or no one?' Ted asked with a grin.
'You catch on quickly, Inspector,' she said dryly. 'Now, what else can you tell me about this case? Are you making any real progress at all?'
'We have the exhumation order now. I'm arranging for it to go ahead as soon as possible.'
