Gracie isn’t too happy with me when I get home. She heard something of my chat with Father Donnelly, and she thinks I’ve committed a major sin. I ask her for forgiveness, but she’s still cranky with me when we go to bed. We’ve hardly ever taken an argument to bed.
That’s all I need at the moment: a priest causing marital friction between Gracie and me.
I head out early the next morning, after a cup of tea I’ve had to brew for myself.
Grace still isn’t talking to me.
The boys are at the station when I get there. Another cup of tea and a half hour later, I’m knocking on Floss’s door. Her friend answers and introduces herself as Dot Bannister. She’s not known to me; she’s not a local.
‘Floss is unwell,’ Dot says without a smile. ‘She doesn’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘Well, she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. It’s either talk to me here, or I take you both in.’ I push past Dot.
‘No!’ she cries, overtaking me and running down the hallway. She stands outside her door, her arms outstretched to stop me entering.
I could shove her away, but I don’t want to. ‘Miss Bannister, you can’t stop this. You’ll also be coming down to the station.’
Bloody hell, I thought it was going to be easier than this.
She mulls it over and lets me in. Floss is lying propped up on a pillow in bed. She’s pale as a ghost, and by the look of her, she’s in a lot of pain. Her eyes are open, but they have the same lifeless look as Vera. She recognises me.
‘Floss McCarthy,’ I begin, ‘What have you done? Do you realise the situation you’ve put me in? I’m going to have to arrest you for the attempted murder of Vera Anderson, and for performing an illegal abortion. Doc McDonald says she’s not expected to live, which means you’ll be answering to a charge of murder when she dies. And you’ve made your friend an accessory to all of this.’
Dot starts to sob, but Floss looks resigned to her fate. She opens her mouth and I interrupt her with a warning. I may need to use what she tells me as evidence.
‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ she replies quietly. ‘I wasn’t well and Dot couldn’t do it. Dot’s nursing me, but she’s not a nurse, you see.’
‘I’m going to have to take you two in,’ I reply.
‘Of course you do.’ Floss grimaces as she tries to move. ‘The girl was desperate when she turned up the other night. She said her parents would kick her out if they found out.’
‘Can’t you leave Floss alone,’ Dot pleads, ‘and let her die in peace? Just arrest me.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Floss says. ‘You didn’t have anything to do with it. You didn’t even know what I was up to.’ She turns to me. ‘All right, arrest me.’ She pats Dot on the hand. ‘Let Sergeant Furey do his job. He has to follow the law. For what it’s worth.’
‘Well, you’ll need to get an ambulance for Floss,’ say Dot.
‘I’ll be right, Dot,’ she interrupts. ‘Just help get me dressed, give me a good swig of morphine, and I’ll be able to walk to the car. Can I come home after I give my statement? I don’t have the energy to take off, and Dot won’t be leaving my side.’
I look at them. ‘You’ll be bailed on your own undertaking.’
Dot pours the morphine into a medicine cup for Floss to drink. She holds it as Floss tips it into her mouth, grimacing at its bitterness.
‘It’s awful, but it dulls the pain for a little while,’ she says.
I watch the pain on Floss’s face fade a little. Her nightgown climbs up her thighs, as she works her legs around.
‘I’ll be outside,’ I state.
‘No, wait,’ she says, tugging at the blankets, ‘I’m far too buggered for false modesty. I heard about the baby you found at the creek.’
Her words stop me in my tracks. ‘Do you know something about it? Were you involved?’
‘I wasn’t involved, I swear,’ she replies, ‘but a woman knocked on my door one night wanting an abortion. It wasn’t long after I came back here. She seemed pretty desperate. I thought there might be a connection between her and the baby, and I always meant to call you. But how could I?’
‘Why do you think there’s a connection?’ I ask.
‘Well, it wasn’t too long after her visit that you found the baby. Things decompose quickly, out in the bush.’
‘Did you see her? Can you describe her to me?’
‘She had a scarf tied around her head and sunglasses on, like a film star, even though it was dark. I tried to turn the outside light on, but she wouldn’t let me. Dot didn’t see her; she was cooking dinner.’
‘What about a description, Floss?’
‘Well, she was average height, slender, probably in her late twenties. She spoke low, but she still sounded rough. You know, not educated.’
‘Did you offer to do the abortion?’
‘I thought about it but I told her I wasn’t doing that anymore. I was too ill. Maybe I should have told Vera Anderson the same thing.’
‘Could you tell she was pregnant?’
‘No, I couldn’t tell; it was dark and she was wearing a coat. She reckons the baby was twenty weeks’ old,’ she replies. ‘Far too late, in my book.’
‘And?’
‘Anyway, she left when I said I wouldn’t do it.’
‘Did she walk or drive to your place?’
‘There weren’t any cars outside the house, but I watched her run down the street and get into an old utility.’
‘Was it a military vehicle? Did you see a registration?’
‘No, it looked like a farm utility.’ She adds, ‘Even if I’d tried, it was too dark. Now, I have to get dressed. You wouldn’t want me coming to the station wearing my nightdress, would you?’
I close the door and step outside. I check my watch and wait for her and Dot to get ready. When a half hour passes, I start to worry. I know she’s sick, I know she might like to look her best, but I didn’t think it would take half this long for her to dress.
I’m pacing the hallway when I hear a heavy thump from inside the room. It makes the wall shudder. My immediate thought is that Floss has fallen against it. I rush to her door, but it’s locked. I call out, but there is no reply. I thrust against the door until the lock gives way, and I stumble inside.
It takes me a while to figure out what’s happened.
Bloody hell!
Floss is back in her bed, still in her nightgown, propped up by two pillows and she’s leaning slightly to one side. Her eyes are closed now, and she looks at peace with the world. There’s no pain on her face. Except for the needle attached to a syringe sticking out of her chest, I’d have sworn she was asleep. Blood’s trickled out of her chest all over the bedclothes. I pick up a towel hanging over the chair and cover her chest with it, to soak up the blood.
I check her and she’s undeniably dead. I get up and look around the room.
Dot’s lying on her back, her feet touching the wall opposite the bed. She has what’s left of a broken glass syringe and a needle sticking out of her chest, just the same as Floss’s. She’s not breathing, and there’s no pulse. There are bits of glass on the skirting board, and empty vials of morphine next to a folded piece of paper on the bedside table. I can only think that Dot must have injected Floss first, and then held a syringe against her own chest, and fallen against the wall.
Morphine to the heart, instantaneously deadly.
All I can do now is ring the ambulance, and wait around. I find the phone in the lounge room, make the call and return to the bedroom. I pick up the piece of paper and unfold it.
Dear Sergeant Furey, Floss wrote, I’m sorry you had to come here today. Dot and I planned this for a while, but your visit set the date. I think you understood what we were trying to do for these desperate women, me and Dr Havelock. I’m sorry about Vera. Except this one time, I always used proper, sterilised equipment and the correct procedure. The women were my patients and they needed my help. Without me, some of them would have died like your sister did. I’m glad I don’t have to live any longer in this world. I’m now free from the judgement and punishment. I just want to let you know I did all of this with good intentions…
By the time I’ve finished rereading it, the ambulance has arrived. I fold up the letter and put it in my pocket. As they wheel out the covered bodies, I feel like something more than just a strong cup of tea.
I hang about the house for another hour, scratching around for anything that might be a clue to the women who took advantage of Floss’s services. Better I find such things than anyone else. I’m putting what I find into the car, when I spot a familiar face standing with a small group of women across the street. It didn’t take her long to get wind of what’s happened.
The old witch has a better espionage set-up than the Gestapo.
She heads over to me. I really don’t want to deal with the old busybody right now, so I jump in the car and turn it over, hoping I can get away before she arrives, but the old Austin stalls. She’s peering in and tapping on the window, as I make a second attempt to start the car. It coughs.
I take a deep breath and slowly open the window.
She pokes her head in. ‘God’s justice was done here today: those sinners will no longer be doing the devil’s work in this good Christian town,’ she announces. She’s full of her usual fervour.
‘I can’t comment on any of this, Miss Percy, it’s an ongoing police investigation.’
She twists her mouth. ‘Sergeant Furey, if you had only done your Christian duty and arrested her all those years ago, this wouldn’t have happened. God stepped in while the police didn’t. Such is God’s rule. This will leave a dark stain on this town for many years.’
‘I’m sure the town will eventually deal with it. Why don’t you look at what’s staring you in the face, and you might uncover a worse sinner. Now, please let me go, I have important business back at the station.’ I turn the car over. It starts this time, thank God.
She screeches, ‘She was a murderer, plain and simple. God has punished her and sent her straight to hell!’
I wind up the window and, in my eagerness to get out of here, I spin the car wheels, unintentionally spraying gravel all over Maud Percy’s legs.