‘No. No violence, Mindy.’ I insisted. ‘I have broken too many laws today already. This has to end now and if that means I go to jail while your dad argues to prove my innocence, then that is better than you, or anyone else, getting into trouble on my behalf.’ I gave her a hug. ‘You’ve been a great friend today, Mindy.’
‘Aw, you’re my favourite aunt, Aunt Flicka.’ She used the name she had for me when she was little and couldn’t manage all the syllables in Felicity. That I was her only aunt didn’t need to be mentioned. She broke the hug and wrinkled her brow. ‘I suppose I could take my clothes off and run along the corridor. I bet that would distract them. You could sneak in then and put the bust on Mrs Bleakwith.’
Her alternative plan was not without merit and might work to boot, but I wasn’t going to let her try it.
‘Everything all right, ladies?’ asked a voice from behind us.
We were sidled up against the corner of an intersecting corridor and peering around it. The man now switching his gaze from me to Mindy and back to me must have thought we looked suspicious, but he didn’t look to be hospital security. They wore uniforms and this man was wearing an old tweed jacket that was a size too big and his belly poked through it to force the two halves apart at the front. I judged his age to be somewhere close to sixty though he wasn’t wearing it well. He had a light tan as if he’d just returned from a trip somewhere and a knowing look that made me feel like I needed to guard what I said.
Met by his warm smile, I nevertheless needed to get rid of him, but wanted to do so politely.
‘We’re just waiting for someone,’ I told him. Then, because it looked like we were hiding from the police around the corner, I added, ‘Do you know what the police are doing there?’
The man waggled his eyebrows. ‘I do actually. Apparently, there’s a crazy woman who tried to kill the patient in that room. They think she might try again.’
I said, ‘Goodness,’ and tried to act like the news was shocking. However, though I tried to stop my cheeks from flushing with red, they were doing their own thing and failed to match my words.
Mindy hooked her hand into my elbow. ‘We should go, Auntie,’ she said with a tug to get me moving.
The man took a step to his left to block my path and raised a hand to demand I stop. ‘Sorry, Mrs Philips,’ he was reaching into his jacket. From an inside pocket he produced a small black wallet which he flicked open to show his police identification. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Mike Atwell. I’m supposed to arrest you on the spot, but I would like to have a little chat first if I may. Are you going to attempt to run?’ he asked. ‘Because that would be quite counterproductive.’
My heart was hammering in my chest. I was caught. Remembering Mindy, I corrected my mental statement: we were caught. He wasn’t trying to arrest me though; at least not yet he wasn’t. He wanted to have a chat first. What the heck did that mean?
He smiled and relaxed his posture. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. You seem to have caught the attention of my boss, Chief Inspector Quinn.’ My shoulders sagged upon hearing the man’s name, but my body language just made the detective chuckle. ‘Yes, he is something of an acquired taste.’
‘He thinks I am trying to kill my business partners. Thinks I already did kill one, actually.’
‘But you didn’t?’ The detective hitched an eyebrow and waited for my answer.
Mindy snapped, ‘Of course she didn’t. She’s spent all day trying to work out what is going on and has it all figured out.’
The detective swung his gaze to Mindy, and then back to meet my eyes, his expression showing surprise and interest. ‘That sounds a lot like someone I know,’ he commented without hinting at who he might mean. ‘So if you are not the killer, who is?’
I sucked in a deep breath and went for it. ‘Mrs Bleakwith, the wife of the man in the room around the corner.’ Over the next two minutes I told him about the cream and the terrible rash and joint pain, about John arguing over Derek’s position and his attempt to kill him by shoving him over the balcony. I explained about Joanne’s affair with the doctor and how I thought the doctor was the one at Orion Print last night destroying evidence so the police wouldn’t be able to catch them. I had to admit I didn’t know what evidence it might have been.
Detective Sergeant Mike Atwell listened almost without interruption. He asked a couple of clarifying questions but nodded along the whole time I was talking. Honestly, it felt great to have someone in the police who was prepared to listen to my side of the story. By the end of my tale, I was buoyed with confidence. I not only had it all figured out, but I had a mature police officer on my side to arrest Joanne and send officers to get Dr Kimble.
I felt like punching the air.
Once I was finished, Detective Sergeant Atwell pursed his lips and scratched his chin. ‘I think perhaps we had better speak with the Bleakwiths.’
I couldn’t have agreed more. Maybe I did have the brain for solving mysteries after all.
As we came around the corner and into the corridor, the two
