by Ali Carter
‘Did the inspector say why he thought so?’
‘His reasoning was that as the medical report was inconclusive, the ongoing investigation would include suspected murder, as there were several things that weren’t adding up. I simply can’t believe this is the next step. As for leaping to this conclusion, just who do the ruddy police think they are? Common people, they never forgive us. But no one in their right mind would murder a man for a dog he ran over years ago.’
‘Sorry?’ I said.
‘Oh nothing. My silly mind’s rushing back to a few things from the past. But minor things they are.’ Diana looked cross rather than upset. ‘Let’s get the mortuary report from downstairs and see if we can make head or tail of what on earth is going on.’
‘Where is it? I’ll go.’ I willingly got up from the itchy sofa; I wasn’t going to sit there again if I could help it.
‘Face down on my side of the desk in the study. The door’s open and you’ll find the light switch at waist height on the left as you go in.’ Diana spoke with the clarity that only someone who’s been giving out orders for years could muster.
I hadn’t seen the report, despite being the one who had collected it yesterday. I’d gone to the back entrance of the large county hospital to find Dr Cropper, who caused a bit of a fuss when I turned up with no identification, although soon enough he relinquished it to my flirtatious wangling with a, ‘Do call me Toby’. And, after a call to Arthur, he handed me a sealed envelope. ‘Here you go Susie, all yours, such as it is, to deliver to Lady Greengrass. Unusual case, this one,’ he said, and with impeccable manners he stood up from his desk to see me off.
Downstairs I picked up the draft death notice from the hall table, and as I swung round to go to the study I very nearly sent Mary flying. ‘Crumbs, I didn’t see you there. I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t worry Madam, it’s my fault for not turning the lights on. I was just going to go upstairs and ask Lady Greengrass if she would like lunch in the conservatory or the dining room.’
I wanted to keep the servants as far away from the family sitting room as I could. If anyone overheard us, the gossip would fly faster than the speed of sound round Spire.
‘Don’t trouble to go upstairs,’ I said. ‘I’m sure the conservatory would suit, and I’ll listen out for the gong if you wouldn’t mind sounding it when lunch is ready.’
Mary shuffled back to the kitchen and I crossed the hall into the study. The mortuary report was easy to locate on Diana’s side of the partners’ desk. I reached across to pick it up and in doing so knocked over a Charbonnel and Walker tin full of pens that scattered over Alexander’s desk. Damn. I tidied them up and then found a Post-it note that had presumably been hidden beneath the tin and was now stuck to the sleeve of my blouse. I pulled it off. It said:
25th Nov.
Dorset Horn, 6pm
077845974210
Cash
My heart jumped. Assuming it meant this year, this was the Saturday that had just passed, the day before Alexander had died. I’d even glimpsed Alexander in that very pub, when Antonia and I had gone to pick up Ben and Henry. How on earth did it not cross my mind at the time to wonder what he was doing? I knew that Alexander was an alcoholic, although he had been tee-total for years. In all the time I had known him he had never once so much as mentioned a public house.
I stuffed the note into my skirt pocket, not wanting Diana to see it. Then, with the death notice and mortuary report in hand I headed back to the family sitting room.
‘Arthur! Hello,’ I said, seeing him sitting in the place I had vacated on the sofa.
Diana was glued to her same armchair.
‘Good morning Susie.’ He sounded dreadful. ‘Ma has told me the latest.’
Diana interjected, ‘Is that the report in your hand?’
‘Yes, and here’s the draft death notice.’
I made my way towards her, but she raised her hand to stop me. ‘Just put your draft down on the table and hand the report to Arthur, please.’
I did as she said and, not quite knowing whether to stay in the room or not, I hovered by the pouffe.
‘Arthur dear, will you take a look again and see if there is any possible reason you can find for death,’ said Diana.
‘Ma, I very much doubt there will be anything that the medical officer failed to identify.’
‘There may be. No one has asked me about longterm illnesses.’
I felt like a lemon, but I couldn’t quite persuade myself to leave the room.
Diana added, ‘It was a lengthy commemoration service, Arthur. Your father could have easily forgotten to put Lucozade tablets in his pocket. Simple as that. And you know how his prostate means he always leaves a service at least once to go and spend a penny…’ She sighed and her attention reverted to me. ‘Susie, I do hope you are not minding being in the centre of all this. It is a great comfort to me having you around, and for us all to have a stoic non-family member. Sit down and let’s listen to what Arthur has to say.’
I didn’t need asking twice although it meant perching on the itchy tweed sofa once again.
Arthur began stiffly. ‘No severe abrasions – airways clear – arteries and veins clear – no evidence of heart damage – low sugar level – void of disease or infection, other than enlarged prostate – small cut of two centimetres angled forty-five degrees from left ear lobe: razor-blade cut, traces of shaving gel – slight redness of skin on wrists: probable irritation from rough cuffs of tweed suit – severe bruising on front lobe of the skull and small bone fracture – small cluster of deep bruising on chest – traces of green moss found in forehead abrasion. No obvious cause of death. Awaiting reports on toxicity.’
‘How frightfully unsatisfactory,’ said Diana.
‘Ma, what was Inspector Grey’s explanation for thinking it possible murder?’
‘He suggested that having seen the level of bruising develop on your father’s chest overnight, it could be that he was struck there by a perpetrator, the injury to his head being caused by him hitting it on the church wall as he fell.’
‘So they’re not certain it’s murder yet?’
‘Of course it’s not murder, Arthur. The police are making an error of judgment.’ Diana’s voice was emphatic.
‘What are we to do?’
‘Nothing, for the time being. Unfortunately for us the investigation is now a potential murder inquiry, but I’m sure they’ll see it’s all a big mistake soon enough. Inspector Grey is going to come at nine o’clock tomorrow morning to give us more details, but he said that we are to ring him directly if we remember something we have forgotten. Until then, I think we shouldn’t dwell on this nonsense.’ Diana looked much more convinced by her declaration than Arthur did, judging by his concerned expression.
There was a lengthy silence, broken by the sound of the gong.
‘Diana,’ I said. ‘I suggested to Mary that she lay out lunch in the conservatory. I hope that’s all right?’
‘Yes, let’s go down and take our minds off all this.’
Arthur paused by the telephone. ‘I’ll buzz Asquintha and the boys, they must be back from collecting your car by now.’
‘Arthur, did you tell Mary that they would be joining us?’
‘Yes, Ma.’
It was only midday. I was still full from Nanny’s large bowl of porridge but more importantly I wanted time alone to gather my thoughts. Diana and I were walking down the corridor when (bravely, I thought) I made my excuses. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, I’m going to go back to Rose Cottage, as I have some work I need to do.’
‘Oh, what a shame,’ said Diana. ‘I do understand, and you mustn’t let us stop you from working. Will you dine with us this evening?’
‘That’s very kind, but I have already committed to cooking for Nanny.’
‘How generous of you, Susie. We’d better catch you earlier tomorrow.’
I turned and smiled at Arthur who had caught us up. Diana’s joviality seemed
slightly misplaced, but maybe it was her way of coping with the situation.
‘Thank you for sitting with me this morning,’ she said. ‘And please don’t feel obliged to stay until we resolve Alexander’s death, although it would be an enormous comfort to me if you did feel able to.’
Little did they know how much I now genuinely wanted to be here.
‘Of course I will stay.’
‘Thank you,’ Arthur said enthusiastically. I suspected he had worked out that my companionship with Diana shielded Asquintha from at least some criticism.
‘One last thing, Susie,’ said Diana. ‘I think you should be present at the meeting with Inspector Grey tomorrow. Would that be possible? And, Arthur, you must get all the servants together and make them promise not to breathe a word outside this house of any murder.’
‘I’ll see you both tomorrow at 9am,’ I said, and left the landing ahead of them.
Crossing the gravel yard back to Rose Cottage, I was filled with a feeling of helplessness. The Greengrasses clearly needed an answer to Alexander’s death, and the sooner the better.
Wondering if there was anything further that I could do, I decided to go to the county hospital and revisit Toby, on the off-chance that I might be able to sneak in a few questions about the medical report.
I grabbed my handbag and car keys from the porch of Rose Cottage without bothering to go in. It began to drizzle so I ran to my car.
I touched my pocket to make sure my mobile phone was in there just at the moment that it began to vibrate. ‘Unknown number’ flashed on the screen, and having been told to expect a call from Officer Moss I answered.
‘Susie Mahl? PC Moss here. We met at Spire village graveyard if you remember. I’m calling on behalf of Detective Inspector Grey regarding Lord Greengrass’s death.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
And then the constable told me that DI Grey wanted to speak to me again, and could I go to the police station that afternoon?
I knew where the police station was already. Much like a racing pigeon, a good sense of direction was something I had always had. Ever since the first orienteering trip at school my friends had nicknamed me Maggy, which was short for Magnet. It’s a great relief to me that they’ve all dropped it now.
I ended the call and sat holding my telephone as I pondered who else might have given a statement – surely I wasn’t the first?
I wanted to talk to the Codringtons and discuss whether to mention burying the bone or not but thought perhaps that wouldn’t be a very good idea. Covering things up rarely works in your favour, I couldn’t help but feel.
Boldly, I decided to ring the number on the Post-it note I’d stuffed in my pocket. I had various theories running around my head and wanted to set them straight.
It didn’t even connect. Number not recognised. I counted the digits. There were twelve, one too many. Now I felt relieved, realising anyway that I hadn’t thought through how I was going to conduct the conversation if the call had been answered.
I adjusted my seat and drove off to see Toby.
1 Railway Station
2 Country
3 Riding
4 Drive
5 Keeper
6 Vinaigrette
7 Scent
8 Rich
9 Died
I’d only just walked in through the back door of the enormous, sterile white hospital when I came face to face with Toby.
‘Susie!’ he said, surprised.
‘Hi…Toby,’ I replied, and then to my discomfort I felt my cheeks go slightly red.
‘Are you looking for someone?’
‘I was looking for you, actually,’ I said in what I hoped was a chatty way. ‘But don’t worry if it’s not a good time.’
‘I was just going out for lunch but that can wait – let’s go to my office.’
This backwater of the hospital had a complete lack of atmosphere, but thank goodness it didn’t advertise its function too heavily. The door I had come through was green and had a small, white plaque on it with black letters that read MORTUARY. There was a long and narrow white corridor, and off this was Toby’s office.
The office was small, and other than a desk and several chairs, the only other furniture was a sofa. I sat down on the arm of it and Toby, having closed the door, perched on the front edge of his desk. I looked closely at the desk, but there were no personal belongings I could see, just an in-tray, a computer and a mug with a picture of our prime minister on it. I decided that Toby might have a similar sense of humour to mine – surely a deliberate play on the notion of ‘mug’.
‘What is it, Susie?’ he asked.
I was slow to answer as I had now seen a small but chaotic glass-fronted cupboard behind him. Envelopes were stacked in disarray and a stream of white condolence slips looked jammed in the sliding door.
‘It was a great shock for all of us to hear from the police that Lord Greengrass may have been murdered, and so I am hoping you wouldn’t mind me asking you a few questions.’ I thought I might as well be honest as to why I was there.
‘Hmm.’ There was a pause and then Toby worded his reply carefully. ‘When you were here, Susie, I gave you the report despite the fact you had no identification. However, to discuss anything further, when a family member is not present, or without express written permission, goes against professional ethics, I’m afraid. I am sorry.’
I could tell by his apology that he knew I was trying to help rather than interfere, and so I didn’t remind him that he had spoken to Arthur to verify who I was and why I was there.
‘I understand, of course. I do know that I shouldn’t be here asking for your help.’ I looked at him in what I hoped was a winsome way. ‘But now that we have read the report, the Greengrass family and I feel it doesn’t give any real indication that there was anything on Lord Greengrass’s body to suggest a third-party attack. I wonder, then, why the police have concluded he’s very likely been murdered?’
At that moment the door of the office was flung open, annoyingly obstructing my view both of Toby and whomever it was standing behind it.
A male voice spoke, ‘I thought you were on your lunchbreak? I was just going to leave this on your desk. Update on Body 214, the suspected murder case.’
The timing could not have been better.
And Toby took the piece of paper from the owner of the voice, without for a split second acknowledging my presence. ‘Thanks Joey, you just caught me. I’m about to head off for lunch now.’
The door swung shut and closed with a click, and Toby and I could see each other. Or, more precisely, I could see him, but he was looking down at the piece of paper in his hand.
It was hard to tell what he was making of whatever was written down. His expression gave nothing away, although ever so gently his left foot began to tap the floor.
I stared at him with eyebrows raised questioningly.
‘Not here,’ he said as he looked at me. Then he added, ‘If you have time, do you want to grab a sandwich?’
Bingo. I found myself giving him a huge smile.
‘Come,’ he said, standing up and holding his office door open. ‘There’s a little café five minutes’ walk away that no one from here ever goes to.’
I picked up my handbag and off we went, down a side street parallel to the hospital.
Charlotte’s Café was out of place amongst the mews houses but it was more pleasant than I had expected. We sat in the corner at almost the only free two-person table.
Toby smiled at me as if I was an old friend. ‘Do you live near by?’
‘No, East Sussex.’
‘Oh, I love Sussex. The Downs are so beautiful, especially those long shadows they cast in the evening light.’
‘You know Sussex?’ I asked, enjoying the romanticism of his description.
‘I like to walk and the South Downs Way is one of my favourites.’
‘I live just west of Ditchling Beacon and go up there almost every day when I’m at home.�
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Plucking the menu from between the salt and pepper grinders he passed it to me. ‘Here’s a list of hot food, but over there,’ he pointed to a blackboard behind the counter, ‘is a list of sandwiches. I always have the streaky bacon and brie.’
I chose the rocket, emmental and honey-roast Dorset ham sandwich, and Toby went to the counter to order, shrugging off my offer to pay.
I noticed how a young waitress tried to catch his eye, but ignoring her Toby returned to me.
‘Thank you very much, Toby.’
‘That’s okay, and in fact it’s nice to have the company. How long are you in the area?’
‘Possibly until the end of the week. It depends.’
‘Depends on what?’ he asked, emphasising the ‘what’ at the end of his question. He was teasing me, I thought, and knew very well what the ‘what’ was.
I played along. ‘Finding a conclusion for Lord Greengrass’s death.’
‘Ah, of course.’
‘Do you think he’s been murdered?’ I asked.
Toby looked over my shoulder, probably hoping the sandwiches would arrive. When they didn’t, he gave me a succinctly honest answer, ‘Yes.’
‘What makes you say this?’
‘A natural cause of death is relatively easy to diagnose once you have the body. If there is no evidence for this then forensics evaluations elevate the investigation to a Level 3.’
‘What happens at Level 3?’ I asked, as if it were a floor in an office block.
‘I know the language sounds a little odd but it’s a serious term, Susie.’
A hint of sharpness in his tone instantly made me regret making fun of what Toby did for a living. I realised I wouldn’t like it either if somebody joshed me about my art.
‘Level 3 is where my team carry out a full body X-ray,’ he said. ‘In Lord Greengrass’s case this stage, which began this morning, has thrown up some interesting results.’
‘And?’ I asked.
‘Joey, who came in to my office, was delivering the latest update and this shows that by the end of today we should have a confirmed cause of death.’
