‘Do you think the person who murdered Fenella might have had some medical knowledge?’ Kate wondered aloud. ‘It seems odd that they could have positioned the knife so accurately, don’t you think?’
He shrugged. ‘Possibly, or it could just have been a stroke of good luck, if you could call it that. Anyway, I see the waiting room’s already crowded so I must get started. And what’s the bet that they’re all more than usually aware of their well-being this morning? ’
He was right. Sue, the other practice nurse, who had worked here for a long time and knew everyone, was bursting to tell Kate about all the dodgy people who might have had reason to murder Fenella. And there was an impressive list.
‘It’s very strange,’ she said, ‘that this should happen a couple of days after Kevin Barry comes back to the village again. Don’t know how he could show his face round here after what he did.’
‘Who’s Kevin Barry?’ Kate asked.
‘He used to work for Fenella years ago. He was supposed to be a handyman or a chauffeur or something, but he was a bit more than that.’ Sue nodded and winked knowingly. ‘Not only was he having her off but they were bevvied up half the time, and high as kites.’
‘My goodness,’ said Kate.
‘And he was drunk and high on drugs when he ploughed into poor little Lucy Grey, who was on her way home from the post office. Must be about ten years ago now. Lucy was only eight and her poor mother, Maureen, has never recovered. Her husband couldn’t cope with it and scarpered. No one’s seen the bugger since. So poor Maureen’s all on her own on the estate; one of those houses in St Petroc’s Road. Anyway, Kevin got done for it and sent down for fourteen years. But’ – here she paused for effect – ‘apparently, he’s got out for good behaviour or something and he’s come back here. Now, why would he do that?’
‘It does seem a bit strange,’ Kate agreed, consulting her watch. She really should be seeing her first patient. She had a feeling this shift was going to last longer than six hours.
‘Think about it,’ ordered Sue as she returned reluctantly to her own treatment room.
When Kate consulted her list she saw that Maisie Booth was her first patient.
‘Were you at the WI meeting last night?’ Maisie asked as she hobbled in to have the dressing on her new knee changed. ‘Wish I’d been fit enough to go – it must have been horrific!’ She sighed, her eyes wide with excitement. ‘But I got a good idea who it was that done it.’
‘Oh yes?’ Kate said as she removed the existing bandage.
‘Yes,’ said Maisie. ‘I know you haven’t been here long so you won’t know everybody yet. Have you met the Millers who own The Atlantic Hotel in Higher Tinworthy? No? Well, let me tell you that he, Ed Miller, has been having it off with Fenella Barker-Jones for years. Now, this wife of his has been at it too, but with the French chef. That’s been going on a couple of years or more apparently but’ – she leaned forward – ‘the chef’s taken off with some Polish woman he met in the pub and now Sandra’s left on her own-eo and is not a happy bunny. She wasn’t that bothered about Ed and Fenella before, but she is now! See, she’s most likely humiliated that the chef’s headed off, plus the fact that her husband’s being shagging a woman who’s ten years older than he is! What does that say about Sandra?’
‘It doesn’t quite follow that she’s likely to murder someone though.’
‘You don’t know Sandra Miller! That woman has a devilish temper! She was done for assault a few years back; some waitress or someone made a pass at her fancy French chef and Sandra flattened her. Flattened her! And Betty Calder tells me that Sandra went out for a cigarette last night and it was ages before she came back. Work it out for yourself! You couldn’t make it up!’
Poor Fenella, Kate thought. How many people might have good reason to want to be rid of her? The first patient of the morning and already we’re up to a couple of suspects!
‘That’s true,’ Kate agreed. ‘Now, that dressing should be the last one you need, but do come back if you have any problems.’
‘Oh, I will,’ said Maisie. ‘Now, you mark my words about Sandra Miller!’
The next patient was Mary Morrison from Higher Tinworthy. ‘I’m here cos of my nerves,’ she said as she collapsed onto the chair. ‘I’m needin’ more of them pills and they said you’d be able to give me a repeat prescription. I’m too scared to open my front door with a serious killer on the loose, an’ I’m not goin’ to be able to sleep a wink!’
‘Well, we can’t be sure it’s a serial killer,’ Kate said. ‘It could just be somebody who didn’t like Fenella.’
Mary leaned closer. ‘And there’d be plenty of them!’ She tapped her nose. ‘’Er was a loose woman, you know! You ain’t been ’ere long, but take my word for it – there’d be a few ’usbands and wives round ’ere that would
