‘He’s a busy man,’ said the self-important-sounding constable on the phone. ‘Is it important?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Kate replied, ‘that’s why I’m phoning. And it’s probably very relevant to the case he’s currently investigating.’
With much sighing and paper-rustling the constable finally came up with a date and a time. ‘Thursday morning, ten thirty?’
‘I’ll be there,’ Kate said.
Detective Inspector Bill Robson had come down to Cornwall from Wolverhampton, according to Woody, in the hope – as had Woody himself – of a few quiet years prior to retirement. He was in his fifties, short, stocky, balding and unsmiling.
‘How may I help you, Mrs Palmer?’
‘Well, I’m a nurse at the medical—’
‘I know who you are,’ he interrupted. ‘Your surgery is under investigation at the moment for possible medical negligence.’
‘I know that!’ Kate felt her hackles rising. ‘And I can assure you that neither myself, nor anyone at our surgery, have ever been negligent.’
‘We’ll be the judge of that,’ he snapped, picking up a folder and shuffling the contents around. ‘My officers are currently checking with Dr Ross.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall.
‘I feel I need to remind you,’ Kate continued, ‘Edina Martinelli was convinced that someone wanted to kill her. She’d had a threatening note pushed through her door, someone had stretched a flex across the top of the stairs to trip her up and it was pure luck that she wasn’t killed then. And, when I first visited her, I met her stepson, David Courtney, and I know they were arguing about something.’
‘We will bear it in mind.’ He glanced at his watch this time. ‘So, if there’s nothing else?’
‘But there is!’ Kate was becoming increasingly frustrated. ‘Please believe me when I say that it is entirely possible that someone could have poisoned her.’
Robson stood up. ‘Mrs Palmer, I understand that you’re a friend of ex-Detective Inspector Forrest and that you’ve been involved in some amateur detective work during the past year, but please do not tell me how to do my job. You are plainly concerned about your own, which is why you’ve come here. I very much hope we do not find the medical centre is the guilty party in this matter, but time will tell.’ With that, he stood up, file in hand, and headed towards the door, holding it open. The interview was at an end.
‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ Kate said, barely suppressing her fury as she marched out past him. What a humourless, nasty little man he was!
Seven
Two days later Kate went through the medical records of all the residents of Seaview Grange to ascertain whether any of them were on digoxin. Nobody was – so she’d drawn a complete blank in the first stage of her investigation. As she walked back into reception it seemed that fate wanted to lend her a hand when Denise said, ‘We’ve just had another request for someone to make a visit up at Seaview Grange, Kate. Would you be able to call in on Daisy Potter this afternoon?’ Denise went on to inform Kate that Violet and Daisy Potter were eighty-six-year-old spinster twins who lived in Flat 2. Violet had rung up the medical centre to say that she was very concerned about poor dear Daisy, who had dreadful stomach cramps and couldn’t possibly get as far as the surgery because she kept having to go to the toilet all the time. She then proceeded to give a detailed account of Daisy’s bowel movements.
‘I think this one’s definitely yours,’ Kate’s fellow nurse, Sue, informed her with a wink.
Kate, on arrival at Seaview Grange, stood in the hall and studied the doors of the three downstairs flats. There was no sign of Sharon the cleaner on this occasion. Number 2 was in the centre, alongside the door to the communal lounge which no one appeared to use. Kate noticed the still immaculate royal blue carpeting and the arrangement of fresh flowers on the mahogany table in the hallway. She rang the bell at Flat 2 where, at her approach, there was a cacophony of barking from within.
A thin, stooped old lady with sparse white hair opened the door, accompanied by an irate black pug.
‘Oh, it’s you, dear,’ she said, opening the door wide. ‘Come in, come in! I’m Violet.’ She turned to the dog. ‘Do be quiet, Jasper!’
Kate followed her into yet another open-plan living area, this one a sea of chintz. The two sofas were covered in pink roses and blue wisteria respectively, honeysuckle scaled the curtains, two easy chairs were covered in pink velvet, and all on a carpet of pastel blue. The pug, still yapping, settled himself on one of the pink chairs.
‘Oh, Jasper!’ The old lady shook her head. ‘He’s very spoilt. Pay no attention.’
Kate reckoned this old house must have been converted into flats by knocking down some walls and erecting others. She liked the high ceilings, cornices and central roses with their hanging lights.
‘Poor dear Daisy’s just gone to the loo again but she’ll be back in a minute,’ Violet said. ‘All very worrying after what happened to Edina. Do sit down, dear. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘That’s very kind, Miss Potter, but—’
‘No trouble at all,’ interrupted Violet. ‘I’ll just put the kettle on.’
As she hobbled into the kitchen area another door opened and in walked an identical old woman, who could only be Daisy.
‘Hello, Nurse,’ she said as Kate stood up. ‘I’m having an awful time of it.’ Daisy sat down on the chair opposite. ‘I’ve been getting these pains and diarrhoea ever since they took poor Edina away. Sharon’s told us all about Edina’s terrible tummy when she was taken to hospital. Do you suppose someone’s trying to poison us all?’
‘No, I’m sure that’s not the case,’ Kate said. ‘Just a coincidence.’
Kate got Daisy to stretch out while she examined her tummy and checked her
