Murder for Good

by Veronica Heley

  Hetty was back to sobbing again. ‘You can’t just turn me out like that.’

  ‘If you go down to the council they will find you somewhere to live. It may only be temporary, but that’s the best advice I can give you. I really can’t have you in my kitchen again.’

  ‘You only say that because … It’s because Thomas has turned against me, I know! If it weren’t for him—’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Ellie, beginning to feel heated. ‘It wasn’t Thomas, and in any case he’s in hospital at the moment with terrible stomach pains. They’re keeping him in, and I don’t know how long or what …’ She mastered herself with an effort. There was no point in her breaking down, too.

  ‘Is he?’ Hetty’s tears dried up. ‘Really! Well, I’m not surprised. His stomach’s always been weak, and you don’t know how to feed a man who likes his food, do you?’

  Ellie lost it. ‘That’s enough, and more than enough. Hetty, I must ask you to leave my kitchen now, this very minute! I am going to the hospital as soon as I’ve cleared up here. While I’m out, I want you to pack your things up. You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow you must find yourself somewhere else to go.’

  Hetty shrieked, ‘You don’t mean it!’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Ellie, sweeping pans and bowls into the sink. ‘Out! Out! Out!’

  Hetty fled, with a scream.

  Rafael put his hands on Ellie’s shoulders and turned her around. ‘Let me finish up here. Go and powder your nose or whatever. We’re leaving for the hospital in ten minutes flat.’

  Ellie thought that she could do with a stiff drink, only she didn’t indulge except for the odd half glass of something at a party, or for an evening meal when they had friends round and they didn’t have anything but beer in the house. And she’d never liked beer.

  Would a drink help now? No, probably not. She put out a hand to the back of a chair to steady herself. She said, ‘I think I’m rather upset.’

  Rafael guided her into a chair and pushed her head down.

  She wanted to say, ‘I’m perfectly all right,’ but found she couldn’t say anything at all.

  THIRTEEN

  Friday, early evening

  Back to the hospital. Thomas was no longer in A&E. He’d been admitted to a ward … but which one?

  He was in Intensive Care.

  Ellie clutched Rafael’s hand as they approached Thomas’s bed. He was hooked up to this and that piece of equipment. Heart monitor? Some fluid was dripping into a vein?

  His eyes were closed. His skin looked pallid.

  Rafael pulled up a chair and made Ellie sit down. At least there were no curtains drawn around Thomas’s bed, so he couldn’t be in dire straits. Or could he?

  Thomas lifted heavy eyelids and smiled at Ellie. ‘It’s nothing serious. Be home tomorrow.’

  Rafael vanished. Ellie held Thomas’s hand. He closed his eyes and slept.

  Eventually Rafael returned with a nurse, who took Ellie a little distance away from the patient to deliver the bad news.

  It appeared that Thomas had been nursing an ulcer for some time, but this was not in itself a major cause for alarm as he was a strong, healthy man in all other respects and could be expected to respond well to treatment. However, the nurse said he’d recently ingested something which had attacked the lining of his stomach and caused his condition to become more serious. Could Mrs Quicke think of anything he might have eaten recently which would have had such an effect?

  Ellie shook her head.

  Rafael shook his head, too.

  ‘What medication is he on?’

  ‘Indigestion tablets now and then,’ said Ellie. ‘Nothing else.’

  ‘No arthritis, joint pains?’

  She shook her head.

  Rafael asked, ‘Why do you ask about arthritis?’

  ‘Occasionally people have a bad reaction to something they can buy over the counter if they have joint pains. It has been known to upset the stomach.’

  They looked back at the bed where Thomas lay, asleep or nearly so.

  Ellie said, ‘He hasn’t complained of any joint pains. I haven’t seen him take anything except indigestion tablets. He does have a stressful job. It makes sense that he has an ulcer. What …?’ She faltered, unable to ask what the prognosis was.

  The nurse was brisk. ‘We should have it under control pretty soon. By tomorrow he should be feeling a lot better.’

  ‘You’re keeping him in?’

  ‘We’re monitoring him closely. When you go home it might be an idea to check his pockets to see if you can find any tablets other than the ones for indigestion. If you find anything, bring it in to us or, better still, telephone through to say what it is.’

  Off went the nurse, professionally detached in manner.

  Ellie propped herself up against the wall. ‘The nurse thinks he’s taken something he shouldn’t. I don’t get it. If Thomas had a pain, he’d say so, wouldn’t he?’

  Rafael drove Ellie home at the end of the visiting hour.

  He said she wasn’t safe to be let out on the streets on her own. She was glad of his support. Thomas was her rock but, as she’d sat by his bed holding his hand, she’d had the impression that he was drifting away from her … if a rock could drift. Which it couldn’t. No.

  She was overtired.

  Rafael took her key from her hand and opened the front door. ‘I don’t think you should be alone. I’ve rung Susan and asked if she can pop over with some food for us. That is, if you don’t mind.’

  Mind? No, she didn’t mind. She thought it was an excellent idea. Food? When had she eaten last? At breakfast, probably. She hadn’t had anything after the church service, had she? Yes. One small sandwich. Not enough.

  Somewhere a fire alarm was ringing. Not here, obviously. Perhaps next door.

  Oh. A blue haze seeped out of the corridor to the kitchen.

  Ellie blinked. She was seeing things. How could a blue haze be in her hall?

  The alarm in the hall was ringing. Not next door. Here, in her own house!

  The sound sliced through her head, cutting off all possibility of thought.

  Rafael dashed down the corridor through the haze, which she hadn’t imagined but which was real. As far as hazes can be real.

  The clamour of the fire alarm!

  She followed Rafael. Yes, something was burning in the kitchen. Ellie couldn’t understand that. Hadn’t she and Rafael cleaned up before they’d left for the hospital to see Thomas?

  The fire alarm was insistent. Its beat went right through her.

  Whatever …?

  She could see Rafael’s mouth moving. He found the oven gloves and put them on. He was mouthing curses, fumbling with something at the stove. Something had boiled over on the stove, something that was alight? No, that couldn’t possibly have happened, because they’d turned everything off before they left, hadn’t they?

  Rafael took a pan from the hob, put it in the sink and turned the tap on its contents. Steam rose, hissing. He unlocked and opened the back door.

  Ellie attacked the windows in the kitchen, thrusting them open as far as they would go. The haze dissipated. The noise of the alarm finally came to an end. The silence was intense.

  She could hear herself breathe.

  She could hear something else. Someone was snoring. What!

  On the big chair at the head of the table lay Hetty, hair all over the place, legs akimbo. Asleep and snoring. On the table in front of Hetty lay an empty packet of pills and a note.

  Ellie picked it up and read it. It said, I did my best!

  So, Hetty hadn’t taken the pills by accident. She’d tried to commit suicide.

  Rafael said something in a vicious undertone.

  Ellie sat down on the nearest chair with a bump.

  Dear Lord, I can’t cope with this. It’s too much! Poor Hetty! I didn’t mean to drive her to this. I’m too tired to move. I haven’t the strength to deal with a suicide attempt. And, you won’t forget to look after Tho
mas, will you?

  She’d dropped her handbag on the floor. She picked it up to get out her phone, only to find that Rafael was already on his, calling for an ambulance.

  Thank the Lord, Rafael had known what to do whereas she had sat there like a dumb thing. She was useless, always had been.

  Rafael spoke into the phone. ‘Yes, she’s breathing. No, she’s not conscious. She’s taken something. Lord alone knows. There’s a packet of … Dunno. Sleeping tablets, I think?’ He picked the pack up and turned it over. ‘Yes, sleeping tablets. The pack is empty. It’s not an over-the-counter remedy, not one I recognize, anyway … How long ago? I’ve no idea. We’ve been out for a couple of hours, I suppose … You want me to walk her around, keep her conscious? You must be joking. I’m not touching her. She’s caused so much trouble, you’ve no idea.’

  Ellie put her handbag on the table and brushed one hand off against the other. The paramedics wanted them to keep Hetty moving so Ellie must try to do that. She might not like Hetty, and yes, Hetty had caused a lot of unnecessary trouble, but she was a human being.

  With an effort, Ellie pushed herself off her chair and got her arm under Hetty’s shoulders. Come on! Heave ho!

  She failed in her attempt to lift the woman, who slumped back into the big chair.

  Rafael let rip another couple of swear words, tucked his phone between his shoulder and his neck, and came to help her. ‘This is against my better judgement. We should let the woman die if that’s what she wants to do. What with Thomas in hospital and all …’

  Nevertheless, without letting go of his phone, he helped Ellie get Hetty upright. The woman lolled between them, her feet all over the place. Totally out of it.

  Rafael continued to speak on his phone. ‘Yes, we’ve got her upright, but no, she’s nowhere near conscious. You’d better hurry!’

  Hetty’s body had a slightly unpleasant odour. Not curry, but perhaps some herb or other? Perhaps the scent came from her hair? An unusual shampoo?

  Rafael said to Ellie, ‘You can let go. I’ve got her.’ He gave Hetty a little shake. ‘Come on! Wakey wakey!’

  Hetty mumbled something. So she was still alive?

  Ellie shivered. The evening had turned cooler and, now the blue haze had dissipated, there was no need to leave all the doors and windows open. She went round, closing them. Her steps dragged. She wanted to lie down and die.

  Rafael hauled Hetty three steps along the floor.

  Hetty moaned and sobbed, ‘No, leave me be!’

  Ellie thought that they’d caught her just in time. The hospital would pump out her stomach and she’d be as good as new. Ellie let herself down into a chair and closed her eyes.

  It occurred to her that Hetty had known Ellie would be back soon. Had she timed a suicide attempt knowing that Ellie would be in time to rescue her?

  Er, yes, probably.

  Hetty could have taken pills and laid down on her bed in the top flat and no one would have missed her until the following morning and possibly not even then. That way, she’d have made sure to die.

  But no, she’d taken the pills and laid down in the kitchen where Ellie would be bound to find her as soon as she returned home. What’s more, Hetty had left something on the stove which would produce smoke and set off the fire alarms, alerting anyone in earshot to an emergency.

  So it wasn’t a suicide attempt as such. It was what they call ‘a cry for help’.

  Ah, but that note had been written with malice aforethought. It was designed to make Ellie and Thomas feel guilty about the way they’d treated Hetty.

  Ellie didn’t feel guilty. Like Rafael, she felt considerable annoyance with the woman. Or, well, perhaps she did feel a bit guilty. She could have taken a little more time and trouble to soften Hetty’s dismissal, but the upshot would have been the same.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Rafael was still dragging Hetty around like a lifesize doll.

  Ellie tottered along the corridor to let the ambulance men in. The taller of the two paramedics had a shaved head and looked as if he worked out. He said, ‘Where’s the patient?’

  Ellie pointed the ambulance men in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Down there. My friend is walking her around. I think she’s faking it. Yes, she’s probably taken some pills, but not very long ago. Perhaps within the last fifteen minutes.’

  A taxi drew up and a very pregnant girl got out of it. Susan, carrying an insulated bag. ‘What’s the ambulance for? Is it Rafael? Is he hurt?’

  Ellie pulled Susan indoors. ‘He’s fine, Susan. Have you brought us something to eat? Bless you for that, but I don’t think we can eat in the kitchen. It’s Hetty. Faking it. At least, I think she is. Only, I might be wrong. I don’t know whether I’m on my head or my heels.’

  Susan dumped her bag on the hall table and put her arms around Ellie. ‘The paramedics will sort it out. Rafael said you’ve had a perfectly horrid day. You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten. Now, what is the latest on Thomas?’

  Ellie tried to smile. ‘That’s one thing about you, Susan; you always get your priorities right.’

  Rafael appeared, to kiss Susan and report. ‘Hetty’s talking, sort of. Insists she wants to die. Says she took four sleeping tablets.’

  Ellie said, ‘I think she timed it so we’d find her as soon as we got back from the hospital. I’m wondering if she only took them when she heard our return.’

  ‘If that’s the case, then she’s a good actress,’ said Rafael. ‘She fooled me.’

  Ellie said, ‘I’m beginning to think she’s an excellent actress. What worries me is that she might have given Thomas something to make him so poorly.’

  Susan said, ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘Well, the hospital asked me to look for something which Thomas might have taken, to put him in such pain. Hetty had some sleeping pills which you can only get on prescription, so now I’m wondering what else she’s got upstairs. As to why she’d give anything harmful to Thomas, I’m probably imagining things but she might think she has a reason. It was Thomas who asked me to let her have the top flat for a while. Within a week I could see it wasn’t going to work, but it took him a lot longer to come to the same conclusion. Now he’s as anxious for her to go as I am. I have asked her to find somewhere else. She appealed to Thomas to reverse my decision and failed. No, I know I have no evidence, but I’m thinking she might now have turned on Thomas. If I’m right … Well, first, I need to look at what other medication she may be hiding upstairs.’

  The paramedic with the shaven head emerged from the kitchen. ‘We’re taking her in. She’s pretty confused about how many tablets she’s taken, and we have to be on the safe side in such cases. She says the tablets belong to someone called Ellie, who gave them to her when she couldn’t sleep. Is that right?’

  ‘I’m Ellie, but they’re not my tablets. Neither my husband nor I have any need for sleeping tablets. I’ve never seen them before.’

  That paramedic twitched his eyebrows. Maybe he believed Ellie and maybe he didn’t, but it wasn’t his job to apportion blame. He said, ‘Who’s coming in the ambulance with her?’

  ‘Not I,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Nor I,’ said Rafael.

  Perhaps the paramedic thought them callous in their refusal to care for a woman who’d just tried to commit suicide, but he was too well-trained to show it. He said, ‘You’ll contact her next of kin, then?’

  ‘She hasn’t got any,’ said Ellie. ‘She needs referring to a counsellor and to find somewhere else to go when she’s discharged. A hostel or something. I’ll pack up her belongings and they can be forwarded to wherever she goes when she leaves hospital. Yes, that does sound hard-hearted, but you’ve no idea how much trouble she’s caused. And don’t say I can’t turn her out into the cold because I’ve given her plenty of notice to find somewhere else.’

  ‘Not my problem.’ The paramedic collected a wheelchair from the ambulance, took it down to the kitchen and collected Hetty and his mat
e.

  As they passed through the hall, Hetty cried out, ‘Oh, Ellie! Forgive me! Give me another chance!’

  Ellie didn’t respond. Perhaps she’d feel guilty about it later, but no, the woman must go.

  Hetty was packed into the ambulance and driven away.

  Rafael shut the front door. Peace and quiet descended.

  It was getting dark. Susan switched on the lights and said, ‘Let’s eat.’

  Rafael said, ‘The kitchen’s still in a mess. When do your cleaners come, Ellie?’

  ‘Tuesday. I’ll clear up tomorrow. I want to get back to the hospital this evening, but first—’

  ‘First we eat,’ said Rafael. ‘In the living room. The table and chairs are still there from last night, aren’t they?’

  They were. Ellie was persuaded to sit and eat. They gave her only a small portion of the chicken casserole at first. She ate that with one eye on the clock. Then had another spoonful. It was delicious. Then, when she said she must go up to search Hetty’s rooms, Susan persuaded Ellie to taste the creamy dessert she’d brought with her. Finally, Rafael brought them all mugs of tea from the kitchen.

  It was only then that Ellie realized how tired she was feeling. She smiled at their two anxious faces. ‘I’ll live. I’m sure Thomas will, too.’

  Rafael looked at his watch. ‘Three quarters of an hour till we need to leave the house for the hospital. You sit still, Ellie. I’m going to go upstairs and search that little madam’s quarters for suspicious items. Do you know what medication she’s on, if any?’

  Ellie was happy to sit still for the time being. Worrying about Thomas was tiring her out, even though she kept telling herself he was in the best possible place and would be perfectly all right in a trice.

  What had Rafael asked her? Ah, what medication Hetty could be on. ‘She takes something for hay fever occasionally. She boasts she’s as strong as an ox, sleeps like a baby, works harder than most people half her age. I’ve never heard her mention any other health problem.’