Unnatural Wastage (21 page)

‘That is a preposterous statement,' said Carla indignantly. ‘Why on earth do you suppose I wanted to harm her?'

‘I'll come to that in a minute. As you anticipated, Jennifer did ask for Campari with, according to your husband, a splash of soda. Which of you poured the drinks?'

‘I did,' said Brian Seaton.

‘And did you hand Jennifer's drink to her immediately?'

Brian Seaton hesitated for a second and glanced at his wife. Sukey read a desperate plea in her expression; in his was a dawning look of apprehension. ‘I'd like an answer please,' said Rathbone.

With an obvious effort, Brian Seaton turned from his wife's face and looked directly at Rathbone. ‘I poured the drinks – Jennifer's Campari and a couple of sherries for us – and put them on a tray.' His voice had a slow, almost mechanical quality, as if he were reliving the scene. ‘Jennifer was looking out of the window admiring the garden. She had her back to us. I was about to take the tray and put it on the low table beside her when Carla said, “You forgot to return Mrs Lear's call. You'd better do it now.”'

‘And is that what happened?'

‘Yes.'

‘What was the nature of the call?'

‘It was to a lady wanting to talk about her mother who has been ill for some time.'

‘Where did you make the call?'

‘In the office.'

‘How long were you away?'

‘I suppose we were talking for almost ten minutes.'

‘And when you returned, what did you find?'

‘Carla and Jennifer were sitting on the sofa with their drinks and chatting.'

‘So you were out of the room for almost ten minutes,' said Rathbone. ‘How far is the drugs cupboard from the room where the drinks were being served?'

‘It's next door.'

‘Next door,' Rathbone repeated. ‘That would have given you plenty of time, wouldn't it, Mrs Seaton, while your husband was out of the room and Jennifer's back was turned, to take out the pack of quinine tablets which you happened to know were still there, break open a couple of three hundred milligram capsules of the drug and slip it into her drink, knowing it would at worst enhance the bitter taste for which Jennifer had expressed a liking?'

Before she had a chance to reply, Goodall intervened. ‘On behalf of my client I strongly object to this line of questioning,' he said. ‘What you are implying is pure supposition on your part and I advise her not to answer.'

‘All right,' said Rathbone. ‘Let me turn to the empty drug packet which, according to the label, contained quinine tablets prescribed for Mrs Donaldson, who died several months ago. Leaving aside your assertion that quinine had not been prescribed for any of your residents for a long time, can you explain why the empty packet came to be with a quantity of material waiting to be recycled?'

‘I came across it a few days ago in the drugs cupboard. Due to an apparent oversight it had not been thrown away.'

‘I see. Were any of the tablets left over?'

‘No, it was just an empty packet.'

‘You're quite sure of that?'

‘Quite sure.'

‘Now, Mrs Seaton –' Rathbone made a point of referring to the open file in front of him – ‘let me return to your earlier question concerning your motive – or lack of it – for wishing to harm Jennifer Freeman.' He paused for a moment before saying, ‘I believe that you have in the past had occasion to suspect your husband of being unfaithful to you?'

Once again, Goodall intervened. ‘Really, Sergeant, what relevance has my clients' private life to do with the present enquiry?'

‘It has every relevance, as I propose to show in a moment.' He turned back to Carla Seaton. ‘It is true, is it not, that you once employed a private detective, who found evidence that confirmed your suspicions?'

Carla bit her lip and lowered her eyes; her husband took her hand. ‘Yes, it's true,' he said. ‘It was unforgivable and I bitterly regret it, but she did forgive me and I promised it would never happen again.'

‘But you didn't really trust him to keep that promise, did you Mrs Seaton? In fact, you suspected that he had already started – or was about to start – another affair, this time with Jennifer Freeman. You saw an opportunity to cause her harm, even so far as to affect her control of her vehicle on the drive home—'

‘Sergeant Rathbone, I cannot allow you to intimidate my client with these accusations for which you have so far not produced a shred of evidence,' said Goodall angrily. ‘In the circumstances I must insist that you either charge her or release her and her husband immediately.'

Rathbone turned to Sukey. ‘Constable Reynolds, you informed me that shortly after our visit to Holmwood this morning you received a telephone call from one of the employees. I take it you took a careful note of what you heard.'

‘Yes, Sarge.'

‘Read it back, please.'

As Sukey read out Barbara Melrose's report of the angry exchanges she had overheard between her employers, the Seatons sat rigid with horror. As the call ended, Carla let out a sudden scream of despair. ‘All right, I admit it . . . I did lace her drink . . . I once saw the effect quinine had on a patient and I hoped it would do the same for Jennifer Freeman . . . but all I was hoping was that she'd just become confused and disorientated . . . and make a fool of herself in front of Brian . . . so help me God, I never meant to cause her death!' She rounded on her husband and screamed, ‘This wouldn't have happened if only you'd loved me just a little!' To everyone's astonishment, and to Brian Seaton's obvious embarrassment, she clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. After a moment's hesitation, he put his arms round her and held her close.

S
ukey arrived home on Friday evening physically exhausted and mentally drained. She dropped her bag and jacket on the sitting room floor, sank into an armchair and closed her eyes. She felt a sudden need for Harry's company; the news of the Seatons' arrest would be released to the press within a few hours and she was tempted to call him and unload some of the conflicting emotions that, knowing it was part of her job to view the case objectively, she had been fighting to keep under control. From past experience she knew she could rely on him not to release any details before the official announcement, yet she still hesitated.

She became aware of feeling empty, having had little to eat since her lunchtime sandwich. Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of the chair with the intention of foraging in the kitchen for something quick and easy to prepare. As she did so, she noticed the light on her answering machine indicated that she had a message. It was with a surge of relief that she heard Harry's voice.

‘Hi,' he said, ‘I hear things have been popping. Call me ASAP.'

He replied after two rings. ‘Where have you been? It's after nine o'clock. Your mobile's switched off . . . I was getting anxious.'

‘I've only just got in,' she said. ‘Sorry about that; I left my mobile on silent but I forgot to check it. Anyway, how did you know things were popping, as you put it?'

‘Aha, we news hounds have our sources. Is it all right if I come round so we can compare notes? Have you eaten, by the way?'

‘Not a lot,' she admitted, touched by his concern. ‘I'm too tired to face anything that calls for too much effort so I was just about to have some soup with a bit of bread and cheese. Come and chat while I eat it.'

‘With you in ten minutes.'

He was there in five. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the empty can. ‘Don't tell me you've run out of your wonderful home-made soup!' he said in mock disgust.

‘No, of course not. There's plenty in the freezer but it would take too long to defrost. Do you want some of this – there's enough for two?'

‘No thanks, Dad and I had dinner a couple of hours ago.'

‘Huh! All right for some.'

‘It has been known to be the other way round,' he reminded her. ‘Would a drop of wine make you feel any better?'

‘It might.' While he fetched a glass and poured her wine, she ladled soup into a bowl and put bread, butter and cheese on the kitchen table. ‘You can tell me what you've heard while I have this.'

‘Enough to make me keen to know more. Major Howes is my source, by the way. I've been in to see him a couple of times and told him we suspect Brian Seaton of having it away with Fenella Tremaine. He reads all the crime reports in the press and knowing I'm with the
Echo
he loves to chat about them. Mostly he asks me questions, but this afternoon he called me in great excitement to say Holmwood was swarming with police and the Seatons had been arrested. I called my editor and he told me to get over there right away. Is it true?'

‘Harry –' Sukey paused with her spoon in mid-air – ‘I can imagine the rumours that have been flying around, but please don't publish anything before the official press statement.'

‘How long do we have to wait?'

‘Only till tomorrow.'

‘Fair enough . . . but as you can imagine I'm dying to know the inside story. You can let me have a little advance information, surely? In the strictest confidence, of course,' he wheedled.

‘So you can have your story all ready to file while your rivals are still writing theirs, I suppose.'

‘So what's wrong with that? Come on, love, you know you can trust me. I might even be able to offer some helpful suggestions. It wouldn't be the first time, would it?'

‘True,' she admitted. She put her spoon down, took a mouthful of wine and cut a slice of cheese. ‘All right, here's what happened. Acting on information received, we – that is DS Rathbone and I – interviewed the Seatons this morning about Jennifer Freeman's visit to Holmwood the day of her accident. We weren't satisfied with everything they told us, but there was no evidence to justify taking them in for further questioning.'

‘What was the “information received”?'

‘Sorry, I can't tell you that.'

‘Would it have anything to do with the quinine found in Jennifer's body? I was at the inquest, remember?'

‘So you were. Well, it was significant enough to make Rathbone apply for a search warrant and we went back in the afternoon with a posse of uniformed.'

‘Which is what the dear old major called to tell me,' said Harry. ‘He also rang again later to tell me that the place was buzzing with rumours that the Seatons had poisoned one of their residents! Some of them are feeling pretty alarmed.'

‘Well, at least I can assure you there's absolutely no truth in that,' said Sukey. ‘There's no need for any of the residents to worry.'

‘So where did they get the idea about poison?'

‘Things lose nothing in the telling, but I assure you there's no threat to anyone at Holmwood.'

Harry gave a deep sigh of frustration. ‘I can see you mean to play it close to your chest,' he said resignedly. ‘I suppose that should go some way to reassuring them, except that the latest news is that the Seatons have been brought back and everyone's frantic to know what's been going on.'

‘I'm afraid they'll have to wait until the evening edition of the
Echo
tomorrow
– or they may see it on the TV lunchtime news.'

‘But we are talking about the death of Jennifer Freeman, aren't we?'

‘Yes, I can tell you that.' Wearily, Sukey finished her frugal meal and went back to her wine. ‘It'll be official in the morning. Both the Seatons have been arrested, charged in connection with her death and released on bail.'

‘What are the charges? Attempted murder by quinine?'

‘That's all I'm telling you for now,' said Sukey firmly. ‘I don't suppose it triggered any helpful suggestions, by the way?'

He thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘Nothing comes to mind, but I do have one further question,' he said. ‘What about the anonymous phone call that was mentioned at the inquest? Presumably it was Seaton who made it?'

‘He denies it very firmly and we're both inclined to believe him. We're working on the possibility that it was another male employee at Holmwood. We saw a man working in the garden and there might be a handyman as well; that's something we have to look into.'

She emptied her glass and he held out a hand. ‘Another?'

‘No thanks.' She put down the glass and suddenly and ­inexplicably burst into tears.

He was at her side in a moment, holding her close and gently stroking her head while for a few minutes she sobbed her heart out. When she finally calmed down she groped in her pocket for a tissue, but he was ready with a clean white handkerchief and waited patiently while she mopped away the tears. ‘Want to talk about it?' he whispered.

‘It's not a pretty story – in fact it's typical of some of the cases the tabloids enjoy picking over,' she said huskily. ‘It would be a relief to tell you about it, but I think I'd like a coffee. My throat's pretty dry.'

‘That's hardly surprising. I'll make the coffee and we'll have it in the sitting room. You go and sit down and I'll bring it in.'

‘I'd rather stay here with you.' For the moment he had become her link to normality and she had a sudden crazy fear of letting him out of her sight.

‘Whatever you say.' He got up and filled the kettle. When they were settled in armchairs they sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he said, ‘Before you say anything, I give you my solemn promise that what you tell me is not for publication without your express permission, OK?'

‘OK. Thanks for that.' She put down her cup, reached out and took his hand. ‘Like I said, there's nothing particularly unusual about the Seatons' story; in fact it's a classic case of an older and, to be honest, not particularly attractive woman who'd more or less given up hope of love and marriage being swept off her feet by a sexy man who pretended to be in love with her so he could get his hands on her money. It was listening to her desperate outpouring of mingled guilt and humiliation that I found so distressing.'