by Morgana Best
I was still puzzled. “But surely Celia can live independently?” I said.
Jane shook her head. “She’s crippled with arthritis, but before you go feeling sorry for her, let me tell you, she’s on some very strong meds. That’s not to say that she’s not in pain, but half the residents here are crippled with arthritis and that doesn’t make them mean-spirited. I just wish her grandson would take her away. It’s unpleasant for the other residents having to deal with her.”
“I suppose she would make people’s lives a misery wherever she went,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to think before she speaks.”
“That’s the problem—she does think before she speaks, and that’s what’s so awful about it,” Jane admitted. “Oh look, here comes Paul now. Paul is Celia’s grandson, and don’t worry, he hasn’t inherited her genes.” She broke off with a laugh.
Paul made a beeline for Jane and took her hand. He patted her hand and looked into her eyes. “Jane, lovely to see you. How are you coping with my grandmother?”
Jane laughed nervously. “Not too well, actually.”
Paul winked at her. “Well, you just leave her to me. And who are these lovely ladies?”
Jane introduced us. “Call me Paul, please,” he said. “No need for formality. Oh yes, I’ve driven past your cupcake store, Amelia, if I may call you Amelia?” Without waiting for me to respond, he pushed on. “I must stop by some time. I don’t live in town. I only come once a month to visit my grandmother. Have you met her?”
I nodded. There really wasn’t anything to say about his grandmother, nothing polite, anyway. Thyme appeared transfixed by the guy’s muscles. I figured he was either a bodybuilder or a personal trainer, maybe both. He was wearing jeans, and a tight fitting shirt which could barely contain his bulging biceps and deltoids. It seemed he had inherited Celia’s genes after all, if only the ones for strength.
He hurried over to Celia and produced a box of chocolates from his carry bag. “I told you to bring me a bigger box of chocolates,” Celia snapped.
Paul walked back over to us, looking a little upset, so I said, “Would you like a cupcake?”
He took one from the offered plate and smiled, displaying a huge set of impossibly white teeth. “When Jane called and said you were providing cupcakes for the morning tea, I was delighted. I want to thank you for your generosity.”
I muttered something, because my attention was taken by Celia. She was leaning forward and wagging her finger at Edith, who was clearly on the point of tears. Given that Edith was shrinking away from Celia, I wondered why someone hadn’t intervened. A quick glance around the room showed that all the nurses were preoccupied with the other residents. I was surprised to see Celia take a quick gulp from a hip flask. Was she concealing alcohol? It sure seemed that way.
“Well, perhaps we should start now,” I said. “Paul, would you help us take the plates around to the residents?”
Thyme and Paul followed my lead and each carried a plate around, offering cakes to the residents. The residents had already been given plates, and all made happy sounds when they saw the cakes. It was lovely to see their faces light up. Just then, there was a commotion, and I swung around, to see Celia slapping Edith’s hand.
Jane hurried over to them. “Now, there’ll be none of that!” Jane said firmly. “Celia, you’ve been warned about hitting the other residents.”
“She was reaching for a cupcake and she’s already overweight,” Celia said scathingly. “If she eats any more, she’ll end up like that woman there.” She pointed to me as she said it.
I could feel my temperature rising, and I told myself not to be so foolish. This was a disgruntled elderly person, and I had no right to get upset. Celia was still talking. “She doesn’t look too bright, does she? You can see why she owns a cake store and doesn’t do something intelligent like being a teacher or a lawyer, or a doctor. See that vacant look on her face? She’s obviously a first-rate moron.”
Two of the other nurses tried to shush Celia, and Edith handed her a cupcake, no doubt to make her stop talking. Jane’s face turned bright red. “Honestly, that woman!” she said to me under her breath. “I really do apologise.”
“She’s always like this?” I whispered back.
Jane shook her head. “Believe it or not, she’s on her best behaviour now. She bullies the other residents, too.”
I did another round of passing the plates around, and then two ladies grabbed my arms. “Sit with us, dear,” one of them said. I did as I was told.
“These are the most delicious cakes I’ve ever had,” the one who introduced herself as Mabel said. “Did you bake them yourself, dear?”
I shook my head and chuckled. “I did the frosting, but my friend over there, Thyme, baked them. I’m afraid I’m not very good in the kitchen, but I’m improving.”
“Practice makes perfect,” the other lady said.
“I don’t think that applies in my case,” I said sadly. “Although I’m much better than when I started, I must admit.” I stared away to look at the vases of plastic flowers dotted all over the room. I wondered why they hadn’t used real flowers, but I supposed that real flowers were quite expensive, and the only flowers I had seen outside were roses.
“Are there any more cakes?” Celia’s booming voice yelled from over the other side of the room.
I sighed and stood up. “I’ll fetch more cakes now, Celia,” I said, relieved to be getting away from the unpleasant woman. Thyme followed me into the kitchen and then burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked her.
She waved her finger at me. “It’s not your day, is it? That Celia really has it in for you. I must say, she has to be the rudest person I’ve ever met, even worse than the mail lady, Kayleen.”
“Maybe they’re related,” I said. “Maybe she’s Kayleen’s grandmother, or mother. They seem to have the exact same personality.”
Thyme was still laughing. “You could be right.”
Jane hurried into the kitchen, followed by the two other nurses, Sarah and Susan. “I really am truly sorry about Celia,” Jane said. “She’s awfully difficult at the best of times.”
I waved her concerns away. “Don’t worry about it. Will we take out these chocolate cakes now?”
The five of us went back into the room and passed around cakes once more. The residents made complimentary remarks about the cakes and all seemed delighted with them. It warmed my heart to see them all so happy. Once more, Jane had to hurry over to Celia who had snatched a cake from the lady sitting next to her. “I’m just telling you, she’s eating too much,” Celia said angrily. “And she’s wearing that horrible bright red lipstick as well. I always say that make-up is ageing. What about that other silly bimbo? Her!” She pointed to Thyme as she said it. “She came with the dumb one who owns the cake store.”
Thyme’s face flushed red.
“Now that woman’s wearing altogether too much make-up,” Celia said. “She looks like a right trollop! Next she’ll be selling her favours on a street corner with a look like that. If she’s as dumb as the cake store owner, then that’s what will happen to her, you mark my words. She’ll be a lady of the night in no time.”
“Celia, that’s enough!” Jane snapped. “If you say anything more, you’ll have to be banished to your room.”
Celia snorted rudely. “I’ll call my lawyer. That’s cruel and unusual punishment. I’ll call A Current Affair to do an exposé on you! I’ll go on Twitter! I can say whatever I like. There’s freedom of speech in this country.”
All the residents cringed as Celia’s booming voice echoed around the walls.
“I wonder how the residents put up with Celia,” I said to Thyme in a low voice. “She must make their lives hell.”
Thyme readily agreed, and I was about to say more, when I heard a horrible strangling sound and then a crash. Everything went quiet. I turned around, and there was Celia, lying on the floor, a half eaten chocolate cupcake rolling out of h
er hand.
I averted my eyes from Celia’s face and looked at the cupcake. Something just didn’t seem right.
Jane hurried over to her and after a moment, gasped and looked up. “She’s dead!”
Chapter 3
I stood there, dumbstruck, while the nurses all sprang into action. I suppose they were used to seeing people pass away at this type of establishment, but I didn’t think this could be due to natural causes. After all, Celia seemed right as rain one minute, and dead the next. As Jane rushed past me, I caught her arm. “Should someone call the police?”
Jane looked horrified. “Police?” She shook her head and then raced past me.
I looked up at Paul, who was standing on the other side of the room, cupcake halfway to his mouth. He stood there, frozen in horror. I looked back at Celia. Edith, too, appeared to be in shock and was staring straight ahead of her, not looking at Celia.
More nurses streamed into the room and placated the other residents, while nurses hurriedly erected a screen around Celia. The nurses ushered the residents out of the room. I could see it was going to be a slow process, considering many had walking frames.
A tall, official-looking woman hurried in. I assumed she was the head of the establishment, or matron, or whatever they called them. “Excuse me, I’m Amelia Spelled, from the cupcake store,” I said. “This could be a crime scene. Should the police be called?”
“The doctor’s on her way,” she said brusquely, without even looking at me. She marched away, leaving me standing there. Moments later, another woman appeared and hurried behind the screen. I assumed she was the doctor. I could hear talking behind the screen, so I edged closer, trying to hear what they were saying, but they were speaking in low tones.
I walked back over to Thyme, who was standing there, as white as a sheet. “Thyme, are you all right?”
Thyme shook her head and appeared on the verge of tears. “No, she was all right and then it just happened!”
“And that’s why I don’t think it’s an accident,” I said. “I mean, I know I’m not a doctor, but it happened so fast. Plus I have an uneasy feeling about it.”
“Don’t tell me you think she was murdered?” Thyme said in disbelief. “Look, Amelia, there have been one too many murders lately. Don’t worry, I’m sure it was natural causes. She was ninety, after all.”
I shook my head. “No, remember how I’ve been saying I have an uneasy feeling? I know this was murder. Don’t ask me why, I just know.”
Thyme bit her lip. “Okay then, I trust your judgement. But who? It would need to be someone here, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose so.” Then I remembered something. “No, she was drinking out of a hip flask. It could be poisoned.”
“Hopefully the murderer hasn’t had a chance to remove it,” Thyme said thoughtfully. “If it was someone here, then it had to be one of the nurses, the cook, one of the residents, or the grandson.”
I sighed. “That’s an awful lot of suspects.”
“Well, that’s the police’s problem, not ours,” Thyme said. “At least we’re not involved this time.”
“How can you say that, Thyme? Of course we’re involved. We saw it happen. We’re witnesses.” Tension gnawed away at the pit of my stomach.
Thyme shook her head. “No, I mean, we won’t be suspects.”
I rubbed my forehead. “But what if we are? What if the poison wasn’t in her hip flask? What if she was injected with something? Or worse still, what if someone put the poison in one of the cupcakes? Then suspicion will fall on me.” I ran my hands through my hair. I broke out into a cold sweat. “Thyme, I’ve just remembered something. The middle of her cupcake was white.”
“Do you mean cream?”
I shook my head. “No, it looked like crushed almonds or some sort of white crumbling substance mixed with frosting. It was a chocolate cupcake, so that stood out. I know we didn’t put any centres in the cupcakes, so do you think it was poison?”
Thyme patted me on my shoulder. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I’m sure everything will be all right.” Her tone was less than convincing.
I didn’t respond, because Paul materialised at my shoulder. “This is such a shock. I’ve just had to break the news to my wife.”
“Oh no,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Was Celia your wife’s grandmother?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s my grandmother. Celia and my wife, Maria, weren’t very close.”
I thought of a possible motive. “Do you have many other relatives you have to inform?” I asked him, which was a polite way of saying, “Who stands to gain from your grandmother’s death?”
“No, my parents died years ago, and I don’t have any siblings. My mother was an only child.”
I tried to catch Thyme’s eye, but she was looking over to the screen, behind which a murmur of voices could be heard. I mumbled something to Paul. So, Paul was the only heir. I was itching to ask if Celia had been rich, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do so. On the other hand, perhaps Celia had left something to the nursing home, or to one or more of the other residents. For all I knew, she could have left it to the local cat rescue society, but she didn’t strike me as someone with charitable inclinations, although our acquaintance had only been short.
Jane reappeared. “The police will be here soon,” she said.
Paul looked alarmed. “Police? Why were the police called?”
Jane patted his arm. “Now, please don’t be upset, Paul. One of the nurses is bringing everyone a nice cup of tea. We have all had quite a shock.”
“Why have the police being called?” Paul said again, his tone becoming shrill. “Wasn’t it a heart attack? Do police get called to heart attacks?”
Jane patted his arm again. “I think the nursing home is just being on the safe side, in case they get sued or something. Oh of course, you wouldn’t sue them,” she hastened to add, now squeezing Paul’s biceps and leaning in to him, “but they’re just covering their bases. After all, Celia’s passing was so sudden that the Director of Nursing informed the police simply to be safe. It’s all standard procedure.”
Thyme and I exchanged glances. I very much doubted it was standard procedure, so that meant that the doctor had seen something that showed that Celia’s death wasn’t accidental.
Paul continued to fidget, but didn’t speak again, and presently a nurse arrived with a tray of tea. It was black. I refused the offer of milk, instead measuring out five spoons of sugar and stirring well. The sugary brew served to calm me somewhat, and I realised that my hands had been trembling. It was too awful to think about. One minute, Celia was there as large as life and the next minute—gone. It had happened so quickly.
The double doors burst open and two men in suits marched in, followed by several people in white coats. It was clear to me that the men were detectives, and I wondered where Detectives Greene and Jones were.
The taller detective walked over to us. “I’m Detective Morrison and this is Detective Scott,” he said in a matter-of-fact manner. “Let’s start with your names, and your relationship to the deceased.”
Everyone looked at Paul, so he went first. “I’m Paul Addams, and Celia was my grandmother.”
“I’m Amelia Spelled, and I was catering for this community event. I own the cupcake store in town.”
Thyme gave her details, and then the detective looked at Jane. “Obviously you’re a nurse here. Name?”
“Jane Jenkins.”
“All right, Ms Jenkins, would you please escort these three people into a nearby room and stay with them. Do you have a suitable room close by?” Jane said that she did. “I want you all to go there and not leave the room until you’re all questioned.”
As I walked away, I was disturbed to see people bagging my cupcakes. I tried to calm myself with the thought that the police would surely do this when they didn’t know if Celia had been poisoned or not, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
I was only halfway throug
h drinking my tea when Detective Scott poked his head around the door and asked to speak to Paul. When they left, I thought I might be able to get some information about Celia. “It would be nice if Celia left all her money to the residents, given the way that she treated them,” I said to Jane.
Jane snorted rudely. “The residents are the last people she’d leave any money to. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but she was such a mean woman. It’s hard to believe that Paul is her grandson, given that he’s so nice.”
I nodded and smiled at her. It seemed to me that Jane had something of a crush on Paul. I wondered if it was more than a crush. Could the two of them have been having an affair, and Celia had found out and threatened to tell Paul’s wife? Jane certainly didn’t seem to be able to keep her hands off Paul. Then again, he hadn’t reciprocated, but he might be simply being careful in public.
And what if one of the residents had killed Celia? Given the way she treated them, they would certainly have a motive. Perhaps she pushed someone past their limits and they couldn’t take any more. I could certainly see how that would be possible.
One thing was clear; Celia hadn’t died of natural causes. Detectives didn’t question people over a death by natural causes.
The door opened and Paul walked in, but before we could get any information from him, Detective Scott barked my name. The look he gave me was nothing less than accusatory.
Chapter 4
I found myself sitting in a tiny little office with a narrow rectangular window overlooking a small piece of lawn, a high white brick wall behind it. Once more, I was reminded of a prison. The office smelt of mothballs and of another faint, mouldy scent that I couldn’t quite identify. To my left was a wall filled with bookshelves along which were books propped haphazardly. The desk in front of me was untidy, with a large desktop computer to my right, and to the left were scattered files and various sheets of paper.
I was sitting on a squeaky vinyl seat opposite Detectives Morrison and Scott, who were both regarding me sternly. “What was your relationship to the deceased, Celia Carmichael?” Morrison asked me.
