Core of Evil
Page 28
The policeman moved towards the front of the house, to the master bedroom where Daisy had left Eunice, dying. He pulled Daisy along behind him. Pushing open the door, he glanced around the room, but she already knew that he would find nothing.
He pulled her after him to the next room, the spare bedroom, but it was empty as well. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, and he pushed the door open with one hand while keeping Daisy’s wrist pinioned with the other. The moment the door opened, Daisy could smell the sour smell of fresh vomit.
Eunice was lying twisted in the bath. Her face was glossy with sweat. Blood was trickling from her lips where she had bitten through them. Daisy could almost see the miasma of decay and death rising up from every pore and every orifice of her body.
‘Stay here,’ the policeman ordered, and pushed Daisy down on the toilet seat. He moved across to Eunice to check her pulse, then quickly turned her into the recovery position so that if she threw up again she wouldn’t choke. Not that it would do any good. Daisy had watched enough old women die to know that Eunice was beyond all help now. Like a barnacle-encrusted lifeboat heading down a slipway into a cold, dark ocean, there was no calling her back. The journey into death, once begun, could not be reversed.
The policeman had taken a mobile phone out of his jacket and was calling for an ambulance, and for extra police. While he was distracted, Daisy slipped quietly out of the bathroom and into the hall.
There was no escape for her now.
No, she was wrong. There was one avenue left, if she dared take it.
Moving quietly but rapidly, Daisy descended the stairs to the hall. She cast a longing glance at the front door, but where would she go? She had no car, and the police would hardly have to exert themselves to find her waiting for the bus at the bottom of the road. No, she would not demean herself by running away like that.
Instead, Daisy turned and headed toward the kitchen.
The coffee pot was still where she had left it, sitting on the hot plate, half-full of black and steaming liquid. She reached out for it and picked it up by the handle. The weight of the jug almost overbalanced her, and she had to put out her other hand and hold the worktop to prevent herself falling.
For a moment she debated pouring the coffee into a cup, placing a splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar in it, just the way she liked it, and then drinking it slowly, in a civilised manner, but she thought she could hear the sound of footsteps pounding on the stairs, so she brought the glass jug to her lips and gulped the coffee down, tipping the jug further and further back. Steam wreathed her head, bringing beads of perspiration out on her forehead. The glass burned her lips and the liquid scalded her throat, but she kept on going. She could feel a growing heat in her stomach, spreading through her abdomen. Her mouth was raw, blistered, the coffee searing her throat like acid as it poured into her body.
Someone knocked the jug from her hands, and somewhere in the distance Daisy heard it smash against the wall, but her world was consumed by the fire in her stomach now. She fell forward, trying to stop herself from retching, but the heat of the coffee had made her throat close up and she could hardly take a breath.
Hands caught her from behind and lowered her to the kitchen floor. Tears blurred her eyes. Someone was talking urgently but the words slipped past her.
She seemed to have been lying down for a long time, although she had little sense of time passing. Pain creased across her stomach and sent tendrils along her arms and legs. Shivers racked her body. Snatches of meaningless conversation drifted past her – ‘The woman upstairs is dead, boss’, ‘Where the hell’s that ambulance?’, ‘DCS Rouse is having kittens back at the HQ!’ – but it was all remote, abstract.
What was real was the gateway ahead of her. A hedge led off to either side, but through the gap she could see flowers of every hue. Entranced, she moved towards the gateway, and was not surprised when it swung open at her approach.
A path led through the garden, and she followed it eagerly. On her left was a bed of bright blue Cuban lilies virtually dripping with poisonous glycosides; on her right a clutch of Star-of-Bethlehem plants reached their little white hands up to heaven, filled with lethal convallatoxin and convalloside. Beyond them, on both sides of the path, Daisy could make out a profusion of water arum, with its bright red berries and its roots laden with deadly calcium oxalate raphides. And around them all, the oval green leaves of ipecacuanha plants, source of the drug emetine which could take weeks to kill if enough was given, and years to recover from if too little was used.
‘I will escape her,’ she said firmly. ‘I will,’ and as her legs gave way, dropping her to the floor amongst the plants, the beautiful, beautiful plants, they reached out to enfold her with their tender stems and cover her mortal body with their eternal leaves and petals. And finally, nestled in the bosom of her beloved plants, she found the peace she had craved all those long years.
Quercus Prime Crime
The Quercus Prime Crime series is designed to introduce leading crime and thriller writers to a new e-reading audience. It features prize-winning, critically acclaimed and bestselling novels made available for a limited time at a highly competitive price point. Current titles include:
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