Murder by Decay
by
Suzanne Young
Sybown Press
Cover Designer: Karen Phillips
All rights reserved
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are purely fictitious and the products of the author’s imagination. The author has also taken the liberty of placing fabricated homes in the middle of actual neighborhoods. Any resemblance to actual persons or places is coincidental and unintentional. Places of interest and historic references are real.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or electronic transference without written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2016 by Suzanne Young
Sybown Press
9028 West 50th Lane, #1
Arvada, CO 80002-4441
This book is dedicated
to the memory of
Allen B., Senior
He left us too soon.
Other books in the Edna Davies series
Murder by Yew, 2009
Murder by Proxy, 2011
Murder by Mishap, 2012
Murder by Christmas, 2013
Murder by Arrangement, 2015
Chapter 1
“How’s the tooth?” Albert Davies asked his wife.
“I’ll live,” Edna said, pressing her right hand gently to the side of her face and wincing with pain. “I have an appointment at eight.”
“Tomorrow morning?” The surprise in his voice also revealed his dismay.
“Oh, no, dear. Eight tonight.” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Two and a half more hours. Time usually flew by, but this afternoon, the clocks seemed to have stopped.
“Even so,” Albert complained, “Can’t you see Gordon any earlier?” He sounded as if he wanted to phone the dentist himself and insist Dr. Jennings take Edna in immediately. “How long have you been suffering?”
She remembered looking at the digits on the bedside radio when pain had awakened her at 3:46 that morning. She’d gotten up quietly so as not to disturb Albert. She’d wanted a couple of aspirin for the ache, but found only an empty bottle in the medicine cabinet. After that, she’d been unable to return to sleep. It wasn’t until late morning, several hours after Albert had driven off to report for jury duty that the dull twinge had blossomed into full-blown screeching pain. At the time, she’d searched her tote bag, discovered four aspirin tablets in a tiny pill box and taken them all. When the relief they’d provided had worn off shortly after noon, she’d finally admitted to herself that she needed professional help.
“He offered to refer me to Pieter Resnik, but I would rather stick with someone I know,” she now explained to Albert.
“Who’s this Resnik guy? Does he practice in town?”
“His office is in the same building as Gordon’s, across the hall. He’s a periodontist.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to see him. You sound like you’re talking out the side of your mouth.”
Not wanting to argue or continue with a conversation that was causing her to focus on her tender tooth, she changed the subject. “Are you at Starling’s?”
“No, I’m still at the courthouse. I was counting on their dismissing me by mid-afternoon, so I wouldn’t have to fight traffic for the entire hour’s drive into Boston.”
“What happened? Don’t tell me you’ve been empaneled?”
“Yes, of all surprising things,” Albert said, but he didn’t sound too displeased. “Lawyers usually recuse medical personnel out of hand. Probably think we’re too sympathetic to be objective.”
“Didn’t you explain that we no longer live in Providence, that you’re in South County now? You shouldn’t even be on their list for jury duty.” She felt slightly exasperated with her laid-back husband. “You really should change the address on your license and voter registration. It’s been nearly two years.”
The Davies had moved to South County after Albert sold his share of a medical practice and retired. Putting their Providence house on the market, they’d spent a year driving down the Eastern seaboard nearly to Florida, looking for the perfect retirement location. Upon returning to Rhode Island, they realized the southern part of their own home state held all they were seeking. Living a few miles from the coast, they had easy access to many beaches. Nearby were farmlands and forests as well as a state university campus, theaters, restaurants, museums and historic sites. And, since their old neighborhood was only a fifty-minute drive away, they could pay an occasional visit to long-time friends and neighbors.
Edna’s attention was drawn back to her conversation when Albert spoke. “I didn’t have a chance to talk to the clerk before my name was called for the first group. Once we were in the courtroom, I couldn’t very well make a fuss. After that, I figured the lawyers would never allow me to sit on the jury, even if I got to the point of being questioned.” He sighed into the phone. “Now, since I have been selected, I feel it’s my duty to serve. And really, what harm, since I lived most of my life in Providence?”
Noticing he’d avoided any mention of why he was still on the county rolls, Edna wondered if his motive to sit was more than purely civic duty. He’d seemed at loose ends recently, so she figured he was glad of this unexpected diversion. “What sort of trial are you on?”
His tone perked up. Sounding enthusiastic and even a little proud, he said, “The judge has ordered us not to talk about it. As a matter of fact, it’s so potentially volatile that he considered sequestering us. After we were polled, he decided to hold off if we all swore to refrain from mentioning anything about the case.”
“Can’t you even tell me what it involves?” Edna’s natural curiosity was piqued by the intrigue, as he knew darned well it would be. “Drugs? Murder?” she prompted.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t say.”
“How long do you think the trial will last?”
“Mum’s the word.”
Edna’s irritation began to flare when a stab of pain redirected her temper to the throbbing in her jaw. She winced, thought better of the retort she had been about to hurl at her husband and changed the subject. “If you need to be at the courthouse in the morning, will you be coming home instead of spending the night with Starling?”
Edna knew their youngest child would be terribly disappointed if her father broke the dinner date they’d planned. Starling was the only one of their four children with whom Albert hadn’t spent some quality time since his retirement.
“I see no need to cancel. I’ve been looking forward to catching up with my little girl.”
Edna laughed at his description of the daughter who had turned thirty-one the previous month, and a warm feeling enveloped her. Albert was a good father and enjoyed his four children, each for his or her own personality. He made certain to stay up-to-date with both sons and daughters and their families--or in Starling’s case, her current boyfriend.
“I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow night and fill you in on everything,” he said, then added before ending the call, “Everything except what happens in court, of course.”
“Drat,” Edna said, reseating the receiver into the cradle of the kitchen wall phone. Was it the burning sensation in her jaw that was causing her annoyance or her husband’s superciliousness?
“Who ya talkin’ to?”
Mary Osbourne’s voice coming from the direction of the mudroom caused Edna to jump. She’d been so distracted by both pain and Albert’s infuriating behavior she hadn’t heard her neighbor come in the back door.
“Did Al get picked?”
“Albert,” Edna corrected automatically. Absently, she touched the tip of her tongue to her sore tooth and flinched. As she waited for the sting
to subside, she merely nodded.
“Really?” Mary’s eyes widened. “I’m surprised they’d let a physician sit on a jury, even if he is retired. What’s the case?”
“He won’t say,” Edna said, then mimicked Albert’s smugness. “It’s so sensitive that the judge considered sequestering the jury.”
“Wow, that is serious.” Mary said, her brilliant green eyes glowing with excitement. “They almost never do that anymore.” As if deep in thought, she stared down at her rubber-soled shoes. This afternoon, she was dressed in white slacks and a green tunic that made her lovely eyes look a shade darker. Her carroty-red curls were gathered at the nape of her neck by a yellow scrunchie. Edna knew Mary was on her way to the nearby South County Hospital where she volunteered three evenings a week.
Suddenly, Mary lifted her head, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Bet we could guess which case would be notorious enough for an order of silence.” Determined to know all that was happening in the area, the lanky redhead kept up with local emergency calls, using a scanner she’d inherited from her late, volunteer-fireman father. Having lived in the same house her entire 56 years, she had friends all over the community, including several in the police department to whom she could turn whenever she wanted to find out more about legal or criminal activities.
“Good luck. There are at least three local crimes I could pick from in the newspaper alone. Probably more on the Internet,” Edna replied to Mary’s wager.
“Doubt if we’d be reading about ‘em, then. A gag order would have been issued to the media for any hush-hush trials scheduled this week,” Mary hypothesized.
Before Edna could ask how, under those conditions, they were supposed to go about getting information on current hearings, she winced again as another sharp pain exploded in her mouth.
“What is it?” Nearly six feet tall, Mary towered several inches over Edna and had to bend to study her face.
“Toothache,” Edna replied, backing away from Mary’s invasion of her personal space.
“Ouch. I hate those.”
“I’m not very fond of this one.”
“Have ya called Gordon?”
Gordon Jennings had been Mary’s dentist since she was a young teenager and he’d moved to town fresh from dental school. She had brought him together with the Davieses at a dinner party shortly after Edna and Albert moved to the neighborhood. The three hit it off well from the beginning, finding they had much in common. Although Gordon was Edna’s age, the widower had no plans to retire, so the Davieses had decided to put their dental needs into his capable hands instead of driving to Providence for their bi-annual checkups. Much as they loved their old, reliable hygienist and dentist, it didn’t seem worthwhile to drive three quarters of an hour to have their teeth cleaned. For nearly two years now, besides seeing Gordon for their regular dental visits, Edna and Albert frequently met him for dinner or drinks or a lecture at the nearby university.
“I’ve an appointment with him at eight,” Edna now told Mary.
“Tonight?” Mary’s eyebrows went up.
Edna nodded. “He had a previous commitment at the university, directly after his last scheduled patient. I think he’s speaking at an alumni dinner or something,” she said, very near the brink of wallowing in self-pity.
“Well, hope you get fixed, whatever it is.” As she spoke, Mary’s brow wrinkled as she glanced around the room. “Where’s Benjy?”
“Benjamin,” Edna corrected automatically. She looked around, too, in case the ginger cat had crept into the kitchen. “Hiding, I imagine. He knows when to avoid me. I’m extra prickly to touch when I’m in pain and not very good company … or so Albert has mentioned on occasion.”
“Hope you get better fast, then.” Mary shrugged and grinned as if Edna had been joking. “I’m off to work. Won’t be home ‘til after eight myself, but if you need anything later on, you let me know.”
Once Mary left without further clarifying why she had stopped by, Edna guessed her neighbor had only been curious about Albert’s summons to jury duty. She’d learned early on that Mary was fascinated by crime, and several times her curiosity had catapulted her into danger. At the thought, Edna grimaced, but not with pain this time. Chuckling to herself, she thought, I seem to be the pot that’s calling the kettle black.
Chapter 2
The office building that housed Gordon Jennings’ general dentistry practice stood on a side road, a block off Main Street. Built in the 1800’s as a family residence, it had been converted to apartments in the middle of the 20th century before being modified into business offices some 40 years later. On this late-April night, the setting sun, dropping below a thick cloud cover, turned the windows into opaque sheets of gold, making it impossible for Edna to tell if lights were on inside.
She was ten minutes early, having become impatient with a feeling of helplessness against the flame in her jaw. Anything was better than sitting around, listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock and waiting for the next stab of pain. Spring was definitely in the air, but nights were still chilly, so she’d donned a middle-weight tweed coat and pulled a knitted cap over her gray curls, prepared to pace the grounds if she beat Gordon to the clinic and found the doors locked.
Pulling into the lot that ran along the side of the white clapboard structure, she noticed two other cars parked there as well. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she didn’t recognize either the green Honda or the black Ford as Gordon’s. Optimistically, she speculated that maybe his old Subaru was in the shop and he was driving a loaner. As she walked toward the front of the building, she kept her thoughts on the vehicles as a distraction from the ache in her mouth. Maybe one of the vehicles belonged to a late-working lawyer or accountant. On previous visits, she’d perused the directory and knew an estate attorney, a tax specialist, and a medical practice occupied the second floor. Regardless of who owned the cars in the lot, she was relieved that someone was in the building and had left the front doors unlocked.
As she passed through the double-wide glass entrance, she stopped for a minutes to let her eyes adjust to the dimness. Only two faintly glowing security bulbs, positioned halfway down the hall, lit the passageway. Gordon Jennings’ office was one of four businesses on the ground floor. The two nearest suites belonged to a realtor and a periodontist. Farther down the corridor, Gordon’s rooms overlooked the parking lot, and across the hall, renovations were in progress for a new yoga studio. Edna knew about the remodeling because she’d received an advance notice for the gala opening, a week hence.
When she could see well enough, she made her way to Gordon’s suite, further assisted by soft illumination behind the frosted panel that held black lettering to announce “Jennings Family Dentistry.” She tried the knob and found this door also unlocked. The only light in the office was coming from a room in the rear. Puzzled as to why Gordon hadn’t turned the lights on in the reception area, she was nonetheless encouraged by the brightness emanating from that back room to hope that her pain would soon be quelled.
“Hello? Gordon?” Hearing no response, she skirted the antique wooden reception desk at the far end of the room and walked through the archway leading to rooms beyond. “Gordon?” She called again, louder this time as she looked into the first room and saw a man reclining in the dental chair. She could see the top of his head, but the thinning brown hair held no resemblance to Gordon’s thick white mane.
“Oh,” she said, startled to see someone else in the office. She took a step into the room. “Are you here to see Gordon, too?” Of course he is, you ninny, she thought, knowing her dentist had a sole practice.
When the man didn’t reply, she leaned back to glance farther down the hall, reaffirming that the rest of the office was in darkness. Puzzled over the patient’s presence in light of Gordon’s absence, she took a step closer to the chair. Perhaps the man hadn’t heard her. Speaking louder, she said, “Is Doctor Jennings here?”
When the man still didn’t answ
er, Edna felt her concern rise along with the increased stinging in her jaw. What was the matter with him? Was he deaf? Asleep? She moved to the side of the chair. Not only were the fluorescent lights in the ceiling shining harshly, but the overhead lamp’s beam was focused directly onto a gas mask that covered the man’s nose. Edna looked down into heavy-lidded, unseeing eyes half a second before she noticed the duct tape covering his mouth. As she stumbled back a step, she noticed what she hadn’t seen before. His wrists had been secured to the arm rests with more of the same gray strips.
She raised a hand to her mouth, stifling the scream that rose in her throat. Backing away, she turned and stumbled to the waiting room. As she lurched through the archway, her right ankle buckled. Flinging her arms out as she fell forward, she sprawled across two upright chairs standing against the wall. Fortunately, the seats had some padding and no arms. Unfortunately, her tote bag flew from her grasp, spewing its contents across the floor. Rolling off the chairs, she groped frantically for her cell phone, but quickly realized her own shadow was blocking the light she needed to see where her belongings had landed. Halting the search, she pushed herself up and, on shaky legs, crossed the few feet to the desk where she slumped onto a wheeled desk chair, turned on a small lamp and picked up the phone.
“Nine-one-one dispatch. What is your emergency, please?”
Edna began to speak, relieved to hear that although she sounded breathless, her voice was calm. “My name is Edna Davies. I’m at the dental office of Gordon Jennings.” She recited the address and paused to take a deep breath in order to continue.
Apparently, the operator thought Edna had finished because the female voice at the other end of the line asked, “Do you have an emergency?”
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