by Linda Huber
But Netta Chisholm was dead and he was safe.
Chapter Thirteen
Monday, 17th July
‘Would you please stop being so tactful! It’s infuriating!’
Mim was glaring from the chair beside her bed, halfway into the trainers she wore around the house. Sarah raised her eyebrows. The outburst wasn’t like Mim, but they were all feeling the strain at the moment. Frankie hadn’t smiled since Saturday’s visit to Rita’s, and had woken the house with a two a.m. nightmare. And Mim must be aching to run up and downstairs like she used to. Sarah’s suggestion that the malls at Leeside Centre would be best for their shopping trip that afternoon hadn’t gone down well.
But there was no use pandering to Mim in this mood. ‘Who rattled your cage? Frankie prefers Leeside too. Loads more shops to find presents for the baby, and as the baby’s something happy for her to think about we should encourage it. And don’t worry, come the Christmas shopping you’ll be diving about town like the fit young thing you really are.’
‘That’s what I mean!’ cried Mim. ‘I’m not – and there’s the phone and for goodness sake leave me to answer it!’
She grabbed her stick and stalked out to the hallway, chin in the air. Sarah opened the window, grinning when she heard Mim bark hello into the phone then modulate her tone. It was Harry West.
‘Mr West, sorry… Is there any more news?’
Sarah lifted Mim’s coffee mug and moved towards the kitchen, stopping short as Mim’s voice changed again.
‘She’s outside with the cat. What is it?’
Sarah wheeled round and stood with one hand under Mim’s elbow. She could hear Harry West’s voice, but not what he was saying. To Sarah’s dismay Mim’s face crumpled and she whispered into the phone.
‘Oh no.’
Mim’s arm was trembling, and Sarah found herself shivering too. Something new had happened; dear God, what could it be?
‘Thank you for letting us know.’ Mim ended the call and turned to Sarah. ‘Oh, Sarah. Netta Chisholm’s dead. Mr West said her neighbour found her, and I’m afraid that must have been poor Mrs Baker, after she didn’t turn up for the evening meal they’d arranged for last night. By the looks of things, she slipped in the kitchen and banged her head. They say she died instantly, but because there’s the slight connection to Petra they’re being – he said they were being ‘careful’ with it.’
Sick to her stomach, Sarah led Mim into the living room, picturing Netta Chisholm’s face as she said goodbye to Frankie after the funeral. That poor, funny, kind old woman. And oh, how horrible, another death for Frankie, and this time they didn’t even know if it was murder or not. How crap was that?
‘The police are coming by later this week, when they know more,’ said Mim, her voice dull. She lowered herself down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands, leaning forward over her knees.
Sarah didn’t know if she was more angry or upset. ‘This is horrible,’ she said, passing Mim the tissues. ‘I suppose we’d better tell Frankie. I don’t think she knew Netta very well, though. She told me after the funeral they’d only met a few times at Wilma’s, so hopefully she won’t be too upset about it.’
‘Oh, Sarah, do think we should tell her? The poor girl’s had way too much to deal with this week. I don’t want her more upset.’
Sarah perched on the arm of the sofa, one hand on Mim’s shoulder. ‘Supposing she hears about it somewhere else? When we’re visiting Wilma, or even on the local news. She’d never trust us again. Don’t forget she still doesn’t know the full story about Petra.’
Mim wiped her eyes. ‘Oh, you’re right. Again. But we’ll tell her that Mrs Chisholm’s dead, and no more. Unless they find out differently we’ll stick to the ‘slipped in the kitchen’ story, so not a word about the police being careful.’
Frankie came running in from the garden when Sarah called her. Mim patted the sofa, and the little girl plopped down. It was all Sarah could do to keep her expression neutral. An eleven-year-old should not have to deal with stuff like this. She watched from the armchair as the expression on Frankie’s face changed to apprehension when Mim took her hand.
‘Frankie, darling, I’m afraid there’s more bad news. Poor Netta Chisholm died at the weekend after a fall in her kitchen.’
‘Oh,’ said Frankie blankly, looking from Mim to Sarah. ‘That’s a pity. She was nice to me. She was old, though, wasn’t she?’
‘Over eighty, I believe,’ said Mim.
Sarah’s dark mood gave way to an absurd inclination to laugh at Frankie’s calm assumption that old people were practically guaranteed to fall in their kitchens and die. Still, at least the girl wasn’t distraught.
She stood up. ‘We’ll order flowers for Mrs Chisholm when we’re getting some for your mum. And we thought we’d go to Leeside after lunch and look for a few little presents for Jamie and the baby. What do you think?’
Frankie twirled her hair round one finger. ‘S’pose. Can we get red roses for Mum? They were her favourites.’
‘Good idea. We’ll take them to the garden of remembrance tomorrow.’
Half an hour later Sarah and Frankie were sitting at Wilma’s bedside while Mim was at physio. It wasn’t the official visiting time, but the ward staff knew the situation and were very good about Frankie going in at odd times. And let’s face it, thought Sarah, it wasn’t as if Wilma was doing much except lying in bed or sitting propped up in a geriatric chair. Her treatment seemed to be all passive now, and the occupational therapy had been stopped altogether. The difference today was in Frankie’s behaviour. Instead of sitting by the bedside looking as if she didn’t want to be there, the girl was leaning on the mattress, Wilma’s limp hand clutched in both her own. There was little response from the old woman, and Sarah cursed the fact that Netta Chisholm had died so suddenly. In spite of her casual reaction, Frankie was shaken by the new death. When their fifteen minutes were up they drove back to rehab to collect Mim.
Mim was already walking up the corridor from the physiotherapy department, and Sarah frowned when she saw Nick walking beside her. They all met in the entrance hallway.
‘Hello again. Mim’s our prize patient, you know,’ he said, smiling round them all.
Sarah had to make herself smile back. Had he engineered this? It would be easy enough to find out when Mim had physiotherapy. ‘She’s aiming for bionic woman,’ she said, and he laughed a little too loudly.
‘Have the police –?’ He was interrupted by a shout.
‘Coming upstairs, Nick?’
The voice was behind Sarah, and she wheeled round to see the nurse called Evan holding the lift door open. Frankie jumped, her face solemn as she inched closer to Sarah.
‘Yup. Catch you later.’ Nick jogged across.
Evan waved to them as the lift door closed, and Mim started for the entrance. ‘Come on, girls. Home time for us.’
Frankie was still close to Sarah’s side, and she glanced down. ‘Okay? Did Evan give you a fright?’
‘He’s creepy,’ said Frankie. ‘He reminds me of someone Mum… used to know.’
To Sarah’s relief, the trip to the shopping centre after lunch was a big success. Frankie chose a selection of presents for the baby and Jamie, then they went for coffee and cake in a snack bar overlooking the centre’s ice rink. The little girl wandered over to the rail to watch the skaters, and Sarah raised her eyebrows at Mim.
‘This was a good idea, it’s taken her mind right off Netta. And her mother.’
Mim finished her apple pie. ‘I rather suspect her relationship with Petra was more like a small girl and her teenage sister. I don’t think she depended on Petra for the usual mum-things.’
‘Well, she has you now. A child should be able to depend on her mother for mum-things.’
Sarah’s mobile buzzed in her bag. It was a text from Caitlyn, inviting her over to discuss things, and Sarah texted back that she’d be there presently. It was nice to be wanted by the folks here at home, but…
one of these days she’d get some proper me-time. Now if only she could have a date with Jack, one where he was interesting and funny like he’d been on Friday. Something nice just for her. And how selfish she was, thinking like that.
Less than hour later she was watching Caitlyn drop teabags into a glass teapot.
‘Earl Grey,’ said Caitlyn. ‘I love it.’ She held a match to a tea light in a stainless steel stand and placed the teapot on top. ‘You look worried – is it Netta Chisholm? I heard when I was at the police station this morning.’
‘It’s horrible. Everything’s so out of control. Did you speak to Mr West?’
‘No, but Mandy Craven gave me a few minutes. They’re still investigating to see if there’ve been any other cases of missing money. Sarah, I wish we could think of something constructive to do.’
Sarah frowned. ‘Did you tell them we’d been to see Mrs Brady?’
‘Yes, and Mandy was a bit sniffy about it in a ‘leave it to the professionals’ way. They knew about her, of course, but they have no leads yet from the info she gave the Manchester police.’
‘We should stay in touch with Mrs B, no matter what the police say. If we can talk to her again in a more relaxed atmosphere, she might remember something. She probably freezes up every time a policeman goes near her.’
‘I think you’re right, plus she’s scared stiff about the blackmailer targeting her again. Thank heavens we didn’t tell her about the murder.’
‘Oh, Caitlyn, it feels like people are dying like flies. Hopefully Mrs Brady won’t be next.’
‘I’m sure that’s not likely. Even if there is a connection between Petra’s death and Netta’s – and Mandy Craven said she couldn’t confirm that – Mrs Brady still has no idea who the swindler could be.’
Sarah rubbed her forehead. ‘He might not know that. Let’s think. We should assume that Netta was killed because she knew something. So either Wilma told her that something, or she saw it for herself.’
‘Yes. Wilma’s the connection. Petra died because she knew about the theft, and for all we know she might have worked out who the swindler was.’
‘Exactly. So Netta must have had information that would lead the police to the swindler – and of course he’s also Petra’s murderer.’ Sarah took a deep breath. ‘But if Netta knew something, why didn’t she go to the police? She’d have loved being the centre of attention. Unless of course she didn’t realise what she knew.’
Caitlyn sat back. ‘Yes! That must be it. But what on earth could she have known without realising? It’s so frustrating we can’t talk to Wilma. Is she no better at all?’
‘Semi-conscious at best. And confused. Frankie and I were there this morning.’ Sarah stared at the candle flickering beneath the teapot. They must be missing something here.
Caitlyn reached out. ‘More tea?’
Sarah glanced at the clock. There was no reason to hurry back, and wasn’t tea supposed to hold more caffeine than coffee? ‘A quick one. I’ve left Mim and Frankie wrapping baby things.’
Her mobile buzzed in her pocket while Caitlyn was pouring the tea. It was Jack, and Sarah wandered out to the hallway. ‘Hi, Jack – can I call you back? I’m visiting a friend at the moment.’
‘Ah – a nice girly afternoon?’
‘Something like that. Oh, did you hear poor Netta Chisholm died at the weekend? She fell in her kitchen.’
‘No! I’m sorry to hear that. She had a great sense of humour, didn’t she? And that’s more bad news for Frankie. Is she all right?’
‘More or less. She didn’t really know Netta.’
‘Just as well, the way things are. Listen, I wondered if you’d like to come out for another meal sometime soon. I’m afraid I wasn’t at my best last time. I had a migraine and I should have cancelled, but – I wanted to see you.’
Sarah smiled into her phone. So there it was. A perfectly reasonable explanation for Jack’s behaviour last Thursday. ‘I’d love to. Why don’t I call you when I get home and we can make arrangements?’
‘Perfect.’
Caitlyn was rummaging in a cupboard, and Sarah watched as she pulled out a box of tea lights and put a new one in the teapot stand. What had Netta been doing when she fell? Making tea? Hurrying to get to the phone? They would never know.
Caitlyn lit the candle, her face thoughtful. ‘Sarah – did Netta know about the money?’
Sarah scowled into her cup. It was a good question. ‘I don’t know. Okay, where does that take us?’
‘Let’s see if we can work it out. Petra is killed because…?’
‘She found out about the money. That was the Tuesday, when I met her in the hospital. Her meeting was on Thursday. Did the killer want to stop her before she spoke to the administrator – or was that coincidence? Petra told me she didn’t know who took the money.’
‘But she was killed, so she must have known something that would lead the police to the killer. But why would he then target Netta? Maybe her death is a coincidence.’
Sarah’s mind was racing. ‘And maybe it’s not. Netta could have known something that would lead the police to the killer too.’ She stared at Caitlyn. ‘But – she wasn’t aware of the importance of what she knew because –’
Caitlyn jerked upright. ‘Yes! Because she didn’t know about the money!’
‘But she could have learned about it any time, so she was killed. That’s horrible.’
‘It can’t be the whole story, though. How – and when – did the killer learn that Netta knew what she knew? Netta must actually have spoken to him – or her – quite recently. Maybe while she was visiting Wilma?’
Sarah gasped. ‘Caitlyn, other people might be in danger too. Ma Baker, or someone else Wilma confided in. Or Frankie, even.’
It was as if someone had kicked both her shins. If they were right, anyone close to Wilma and Petra could have the same knowledge. Sarah’s gut tightened in fear.
Caitlyn stared out of the window. ‘I think you should all be very careful, Sarah. And do you know what would be interesting? A list of staff members for both hospitals for the times the two swindles took place. I think I’ll go and have another journalistic chat at the police station.’
Sarah drained her cup and stood up to go. Mim was alone with Frankie, and anyway, she had to phone Jack. ‘Good idea.’
And now she was going home to look after Frankie – and Mim – as hard as ever she could.
Chapter Fourteen
Tuesday, 18th July
Sarah spent a restless night, dreams of anonymous men stalking her and Frankie circling round her head and waking her twice. As soon as her breakfast coffee was inside her, she went round to see if Caitlyn had found out more.
Caitlyn came straight to the point. ‘I spoke to Harry West last night. He didn’t have much time for me, but he was reassuring about one thing – he doesn’t think Frankie is in any danger. He said if she was, something would have happened by this time and I suppose that’s true.’
‘Thank heavens for that,’ said Sarah thankfully. ‘That must mean Frankie doesn’t know whatever Netta knew. So we’re no further forward. Did you ask about the lists of hospital workers?’
‘Yes, and of course they’re already onto that. There are a few people on both lists, mostly junior doctors because they change round more. They’re being checked out, but Harry isn’t hopeful of finding anything useful. He didn’t say as much, but I’m sure he thinks Netta was killed too.’
‘And every idea seems to lead straight to a dead end. It would be terrible for Frankie if her mother’s killer is never found.’ Sarah turned away. ‘I’d better get back. I left Mim having her first bath since her op; she’s wallowing in litres of bath foam. See you, Caitlyn.’
‘Doing anything interesting afterwards?’
‘Just family stuff, but I’m going for a Chinese with Jack tonight, so I’ll see if he has any more ideas.’ And how good it would feel to get away from the whole murder and missing money problem for a while. She ha
dn’t looked forward to a date as much for ages. Sarah hugged herself as she ran round to Mim’s front door.
After lunch Sarah took Frankie to do a food shop. It was disorientating. Here she was in the middle of a murder inquiry – a double murder – and she still had to spend time worrying about bread and butter and washing-up liquid. The world was a crazy place.
They walked round, piling the trolley with necessities and little luxuries alike. Mim loved smoked salmon, and Sarah bought some to make a starter for the following evening.
‘Let’s cook Mim a meal with all her favourites,’ she said. ‘She deserves it, after all she’s been through lately.’
Frankie stood still, her eyes bleak. ‘A lot of it was my fault.’
Sarah let go of the trolley to hug the girl. ‘Sweetheart, none of it was your fault. And the next person we’ll cook a ‘favourites’ meal for can be you. So start thinking about what you like best and we’ll do that next week sometime. You can invite a friend from your old school class, if you want to. Now –’
Her mobile buzzed in her handbag, and Sarah scrabbled for it. This might be Jack, wanting to confirm their date tonight. But it was Rita.
‘Rita? You okay?’
‘No – I’m in labour and Phil’s just left London. He’ll be hours yet. Can you and Mim come? I didn’t want to phone her in case you couldn’t and then she’d feel bad, but if you can –’
‘Oh gosh – of course we’ll come. Will you be able to stay at home till we get there?’
‘I think so. My neighbour’s with me. Thanks, Sarah.’
‘See you very soon.’ Her heart racing, Sarah broke the connection and turned to Frankie. Should they take the girl with them? They’d be away for hours. But Rita barely knew Frankie, and having a baby was such an intimate, family thing.
‘What is it?’ Frankie’s face was afraid, and Sarah tried to smile, turning the trolley towards the checkout. ‘Sweetie, I have to take Mim to Rita – the baby’s coming. We’ll see if you can stay with Caitlyn in the meantime. Okay?’
