Molly walked slowly through the park, picking through her thoughts. She half knew that she should go and visit Gerald in his cell, like Michael had suggested, but somehow there was something else playing on her mind. It seemed that everyone was keeping something from her, from the police. No-one was quite letting on everything they knew – they were all defending each other, and why? And how could she drive a wedge in-between them, to get at least one of them to let on?
She stopped walking as she heard familiar voices.
“Well then where were you? You know that I need to know. You know. I can’t let this get in the way.”
Molly froze. It was Caterina’s voice, coming from a copse of trees just off the path to her right.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Molly shook her head in bemusement. That was definitely Finlay.
She crept off the path. The trees were particularly thick here, with weeds and shrubs growing up in-between them. Even still, there was a path leading in, beaten down by whoever used this place. A discarded can of beer by the side of the path indicated roughly the kind of thing that usually went on here, but somehow Molly didn’t think that Caterina and Finlay were here to have a drink.
She crept in through the bushes. About ten steps inside the copse she spotted the two of them. From the path, they would have been invisible, sheltered by the scrubs, but now Molly could see everything. Finlay was backed up against a tree with a look of worry on his face. Caterina was standing in front of him, somehow managing to tower over the lawyer despite her diminutive stature. Molly crept behind a tree and crouched down low to the ground. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but there was no way she was going to miss this.
“You know exactly what I mean,” hissed Caterina.
Finlay gulped visibly and nodded. “Alright. I was in my…”
“No you weren’t!” interrupted Caterina. “I was there, but you were not.”
Molly shifted uncomfortably. There was a twig digging into her back, but she didn’t dare move it for fear of rustling the tree.
“You know there is such a thing as client confidentiality, my dear,” said Finlay, attempting to straighten himself up. Caterina jabbed a finger into his chest.
“Don’t give me that,” she said. “Not now.”
“But…”
The whole scene froze abruptly as a rustling came from the bushes behind them. Someone was clearly coming up on them, and it was clear from the worried expressions crossing the pair’s faces that neither of them were expecting company. A few seconds later two bushes were parted and an old man wearing a bright orange uniform stepped through. He was holding a rake in one hand, and using the other to try to lever himself through the middle of two shrubs. Caterina and Finlay made no move to help, instead they stood, seemingly dumbstruck, until he finally managed to free himself, tumbling forward and almost knocking himself off of his feet.
The man stood and panted for a couple of seconds, waving his rake vaguely threateningly as the pair looked on. Molly recognized him as part of the parks’ team of groundkeepers. His name was on the tip of her tongue. He managed after a few seconds to pull himself up to his full height, glowering at Caterina and Finlay. Still, he seemed about as confused as they were at this unexpected meeting. He probably hadn’t expected to find two grown adults in what was clearly a teenagers’ drinking den. Still, he tried his best impression of an authority figure, leaning on the rake and glowering at the two miscreant aristocrats.
“You shouldn’t be back here, you know,” he said, his voice squeaking slightly. “It’s against park regulations.”
Finlay pulled himself away from the tree he’d been backed against and straightened his suit jacket.
“We do apologize for trespassing, but we were just…”
The old groundskeeper banged his rake against the ground in annoyance. “I don’t care what you were just, you shouldn’t be here!”
“But…” said Caterina.
“No buts! Out! Out, out, out…”
The groundskeeper shooed them along the path, passed Molly’s hiding place, and out into the park proper, waving his rake as he went. Molly stifled a giggle as they left, and pulled herself up from the ground. She was covered in leaf mold, and she thought she could feel a spider’s web tickling at her feet, but still she couldn’t complain. That conversation she’d overheard could well have been key. Why else would they hide in a copse of trees to talk about it? She only wished that the groundskeeper hadn’t walked in on them like that. She couldn’t blame him, but somehow, she had an instinct that he’d covered up a potentially vital clue by chasing them out like that.
She stepped out from behind her tree and had a quick poke around the copse. Neither Finlay nor Caterina seemed to have dropped anything, though Caterina had lost a fake eyelash as she was rushed out. It probably wasn’t the most important clue in the world. Feeling a little disappointed, Molly crept out of the copse, checking for errant groundskeepers as she emerged, and went on her way. Now seemed the right time to pay Gerald a visit.
It was a good thing that Michael had called ahead to the constable to let her see Gerald. She hadn’t got within fifty meters of the station before she was stopped by a business-like officer standing by the road, who had orders to keep anyone involved with the case from getting close. It took a little explaining before he would escort her to his boss, and from there to the chief constable, and from there to Gerald’s cell. It was located deep within the building, down several dusty looking corridors, which clearly didn’t see many visitors, and through three locked doors. The police’s highest profile prisoner wasn’t going anywhere – not when it had taken so much work to find him.
Molly had had trouble feeling sorry for Gerald throughout the whole affair, but that changed as soon as she entered his cell. It was a dingy looking room, whitewashed walls and no windows, and the only piece of furniture a single bed shoved up against one wall. A cobweb hung lightly down from one corner, wafting backwards and forwards in the draft from a vent.
Gerald himself was seated on the bed, back against the wall. He was wearing a shirt and suit pants, but they seemed now to be hanging off him, as if he had become gaunt overnight, his frame slackened by the stress and the worry. His tie had been taken away from him and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, leaving his collar hanging loosely around his neck and showing a white undershirt. His hair, usually neatly combed, now clung to his head lankly and his hands clenched and unclenched as Molly entered, his eyes darting around the room with a manic expression. He seemed at once curious, terrified, and furious to see her, and he shrank back unthinkingly as she came into the room.
Molly nodded and the officer who had escorted her thus far stepped back into the corridor.
“Call out if you need anything,” he said, giving Gerald a hard glance. “From what I hear this guy’s cold-blooded.”
Molly tried her best not to glare. “Thank you Officer, I’ll keep that in mind.”
The policeman nodded and slammed the door behind him, leaving Molly alone in the room with the murder suspect.
Neither of them said anything for several seconds. Gerald glared at her, his rage evident, a slight mad quality to his eyes. For her part, Molly tried simply to hold his gaze, arms by her side, standing in the doorway, with her face set. For this to work she needed him to know that she wasn’t afraid of him.
“What are you doing here, Molly?” said Gerald, as the silence played out.
Molly smiled quickly and pulled a mint from one pocket, twirling the wrapper open expertly. “I figured it was about time I came and visited you,” she replied, walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “I want to get to the bottom of this whole thing. And for that,” she fixed him with a hard stare, “I need to know the truth.”
She popped the mint into her mouth and chewed slowly, letting Gerald think about what she was saying. He stared into mid-air for a few moments, and then leaned back against the wall in abject dejection.
“How much do you know?” he said, grimacing.
Molly squirreled the mint into one cheek, smiling apologetically. “How much do I know for certain? Not much. Only what the police told me. How much have I inferred from that? Most of what happened, I hope. First things first. The car that was driven away at speed from Virginia’s house, that was yours, right?”
He nodded, not catching her gaze.
“And you were at the wheel?”
Another nod.
“Then you were in the house that day.”
Gerald paused at that, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. He opened his mouth twice before he could think of anything, and then he seemed to shrink into himself. He brushed a loose hair out of his eye and looked Molly full in the face, pleading.
“I didn’t kill Ginny.”
Molly smiled. “Honestly, I really didn’t think that you did.”
His face lit up at that, and he sat stock upright. “You didn’t? You think I’m innocent?”
Molly smiled and nodded once. “Not at first. Thought you were as guilty as sin to begin with. Now I’ve got my doubts. Whoever did kill Virginia did a good job of covering their tracks. They made it look very much like it must have been you, and your little stunt – driving out of town at top speed, straight past two CCTV cameras? That didn’t really help.”
“I wasn’t really thinking straight at the time,” said Gerald.
“You’d just been in the room of a murder, I don’t blame you. I’m just saying that it’s going to be difficult to determine exactly who did do it, and even harder to bring them to justice.”
“The police aren’t exactly going to believe the evidence of their chief suspect, huh?” said Gerald.
“No – which makes it even more important that you tell me exactly what happened, and what you saw on that day.”
Gerald grimaced once more. “I can tell you bits and pieces, but there are some things that just aren’t mine to tell.”
“Even if they get you off a murder charge?” said Molly.
“Even then. Blood’s thicker than prison walls, you know?”
He sat up and stared forward, as if planning what to say. “Well, firstly you have to know that Virginia’s never exactly been... ordinary. She’s always had her fingers in lots of pies, kept her eyes open for every little detail, and never really... Well, she’s never really trusted anybody. Not even her family.”
He paused, gathering himself, and then went on.
“She always had a thing about having a different mum to the rest of us. She held it against us, I think. Of course, Dad… Alexander that is, he never treated her any differently. But he was never the most emotionally open of men, and I don’t really think he showed her a ridiculous amount of affection. It wasn’t his fault, it was just the way he was brought up. Stiff upper lip.”
Molly smiled winningly. “I understand.”
Gerald shook his head as if to clear it, bringing one hand to his forehead. “I’d always tried to take her under my wing, from the moment I realized the way she was feeling. Well, we’d grown up together, she was my sister, no matter who her mother was, and I didn’t like the fact that she’d felt so isolated – especially as it was all in her head.”
“That can’t have been easy, with you travelling all over the place,” said Molly.
“No. I won’t lie, I never got on with my father. Staying in this town with him, potentially even having to stay in Mulberry House? You can’t imagine what a chore that would have been. So, I got out of there as early as I could. But I think Virginia took it hard. In her head, I was her only real ally. I tried to keep in touch but to be honest I’m not the best at thinking of these things. I wrote and texted for a while, but that eventually fizzled out, and she was on her own. That’s when things started to go wrong.”
“What happened?” said Molly.
Gerald nodded thoughtfully. “Ginny changed. Became very insular. She tried to travel, following in my footsteps I suppose, but it didn’t suit her. She was soon back here. That was when she moved into that dingy house. Never even unpacked her things.”
“And who can blame her?” said Molly.
“Quite. I wouldn’t want to move into that place permanently. Perhaps she had in mind to move out again in the future. That didn’t work out for her though, did it?”
“And was that when she started having people followed?”
Gerald’s face set. “How did you know about that?”
Molly sighed. “There was a pile of papers in Virginia’s cupboard. They had names of people, and who they’d been meeting, when, where. I don’t believe she was following people around town herself, someone would have spotted her. I also don’t think that she has access to every CCTV camera in town. And I’ve been on the wrong end of a few rather dodgy looking shadows myself after she died. I suspect that they were working for her, at least at first.”
Gerald nodded. “It was really just an extension of her paranoia. Everyone was out to get her, so she had to know what they were doing at every second. I didn’t really believe it at first, that she had that in her, but I’d heard stories from other people in the family and then one evening there’s a man following me down the street. He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. He followed me round one too many random left turns, and then I was standing waiting for him. We had a... chat. He told me what I needed to know about what Ginny had been up to. And that was that. But then Dad died… was killed, I mean.”
“So you went to her house.”
“On the morning of her murder, yes. I suppose I was planning some sort of personal intervention, in my head. I wasn’t prepared at all. I just wanted to help. I didn’t think she’d done it, but I had to be sure. I had to talk to her. It wasn’t hard to get into the house – Ginny always keeps her spare key under a pot on the back doorstep.”
Molly nodded. “You sat and waited, alone in the house?”
“Stupid, huh?”
Molly smiled. “All I’m saying is that you can’t exactly be surprised that the police are suspicious of you.”
“No, I suppose I can’t.” He smiled wearily.
“So what happened then?”
“Well, I was sitting upstairs. I’d just found that pile of papers. That was shock enough. But then I heard the front door open, and there were two voices. One was hers, one was... somebody else.”
“Who?”
“I genuinely couldn’t tell. Virginia was saying a lot, they weren’t saying much, and the two of them were downstairs.”
“But the gender?”
“I can’t say.”
Molly arched her eyebrows. He couldn’t say?
Gerald looked genuinely apologetic. “I told you there are some things that I couldn’t tell you. That’s one of them.”
“And then?” she said, dropping the point.
“I climbed into the cupboard.”
“Why?”
Gerald looked to the floor. “I had to know what they were saying.”
“And why was that?”
“Again, I can’t say.”
Molly shook her head, infuriated. “Gerald, this is almost certainly really important. I can’t catch Ginny’s murderer without information.”
For a moment, he looked pained, perhaps even on the verge of telling her everything, but then his expression set.
“I really am sorry. Justice for a woman who is already dead can’t come at the expense of the lives of people who are living, even if she was my sister. Even if I really would like to tell you.”
Just then the door opened and Paul walked in. Molly stood quickly, looking a little guilty. Paul looked stony-faced.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, frowning.
“Talking to Gerald.”
Molly tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path.
“You know you shouldn’t be hanging around the station,” he whispered. “My boss has already got it in for you.”
“I needed to get some information from Gerald,” Molly replied.
“Well I think you’d better come with me now, and we’ll get out of here before anyone sees you,” Paul said. Molly nodded and turned to Gerald.
“Thank you for what you have been able to tell me today. It’s brought me a long way.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he said, settling back against the wall. “I’m sure you’ll get whoever really did kill Ginny. Whether that’s a good thing or not.”
Paul escorted her quickly out of the station. They didn’t say much. It was clear that he didn’t think much of her taking it upon herself to get involved with Gerald’s interrogation. He left her at the door, and she walked home alone.
That night was her awards dinner. A week before she might have been excited about the whole thing, but now it seemed hollow somehow. There were so many more important things to worry about in the world than sipping cheap wine and trying to win the headmaster’s approval. What could Gerald have meant by his last sentence? It was certainly a strange thing to say…
It didn’t take long for her to get home, and she watched TV until about ten minutes before she had to leave. She had spent too long thinking about the murder – it was a relief just to take some time off for once. She threw on the dress she’d picked for the occasion with five minutes to go, and quickly pulled a comb through her hair. Honestly the whole thing was a bit of a chore. Certainly she could have done without the award. What about the other family members? What could it mean that Caterina had been at Finlay’s office? And Michael, what was his relationship with the whole family? Eventually she set off, and she spent the time it took her to get to the school thinking about roughly the same things.
Still, she had to admit that the school had gone all out for the awards evening. As she walked in through the gates she could see that someone had laid out solar powered lights along the paths to light the way, and as she got closer she could see that the main doors to the school had been thrown open and adorned with what looked suspiciously like the school’s Christmas tinsel. The whole place looked like a cheap 1980s nightclub.
As she walked through the doors, she was surprised to see Officer Cartsome appear around the corner. He was wearing his full police uniform, carrying a cap under one arm and with a Taser not very well hidden on his belt. Molly watched as he hurried along, whistling past students and staff, paying them not much heed and clearly not caring too much who he walked into, or what damage his truncheon did as it swung left and right behind him, mimicking his steps.
He saw Molly about ten seconds after she saw him. He froze and stood stock still, glaring at her. And was it her imagination, or did he flush a little as he saw her standing there? She’d been well trained to spot when pupils weren’t where they were supposed to be, and Officer Cartsome obviously wasn’t meant to be here.
The officer’s shock didn’t last long, and he quickly regained his normal condescending smile.
“Evening Miss Wright,” he said, grimacing a little and stepping towards her. “And congratulations, I suppose. I understand you’re part of this whole awards evening.”
Molly observed him for a few seconds before replying. He was red under the collar, as if he’d been running, or was embarrassed, and he was breathing a little heavily. Up close his uniform looked dishevelled, with creases hanging out of it. Where had he been rushing to?
“Evening officer,” she replied. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Were you invited?”
The policeman flushed again. “No, not technically. I’m pursuing a case.”
Molly smiled and nodded. “Not the Dove case, I suppose?”
He shrugged non-committally. “Just gathering some last minute evidence from some of your fellow members of staff.”
Molly frowned. What did her fellow members of staff know about it?
She was about to articulate this thought, but the policeman was already readying to walk away. Clearly he was not interested in conversation. He waved, rather stiffly, and strode off, cap in hand, truncheon wagging merrily behind him. Molly was left dumbfounded, but she was ushered in by a couple of students, who were playing doormen, and so she didn’t have much time to think about it.
Inside, a couple of the janitors had donned dinner suits and were waving people through to the main hall. They looked a little like they’d rather go and put their overalls back on but still, it was a nice touch. She wasn’t complaining. She could even spot a couple of the secretaries working on the refreshments, complete with showy dresses.
Inside the hall the pupils’ lunch chairs had been replaced with adult sized ones, all facing the stage where the awards were to be handed out. More interestingly, towards the back of the room the school had had a table of refreshments set up. It had the standard school event selection – fancy looking sandwiches mixed in with the odd bowl of crisps and plastic wine glasses. Still, the wine appealed, and it was nice to see so many friendly faces standing around. A couple of her fellow math teachers were standing by a punch bowl and the deputy headmistress was hanging around the sandwiches. There were even a few hand-picked students – she recognized the head boy talking to a design technology teacher.
She walked slowly into the room and was immediately accosted by the headmaster, who seemed to have been waiting for her.
“Molly, how good to see you!” he said as he approached, arms outstretched. Molly accepted a rather uncomfortable hug, and then smiled graciously at him as he held her at arm’s length. “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing,” he said.
“Thanks,” Molly replied. He was being very friendly today – who knew why.
“Do come over to the wines, the chairmen have laid out a lovely spread tonight.”
He guided her across the room by her arm, leading her straight to the table. To be honest that was where she wanted to be anyway.
“Red or white?” he asked, as they arrived at their destination.
Molly motioned at the red.
“Now, Molly,” the headmaster said as he handed her the glass. “I hope you won’t think I’m prying, but I wanted to ask you about that nasty business that you got involved in. With the Doves.”
Molly tilted her head slightly. Whatever he had to say had better be good, or she definitely would think he was prying.
“I just want to check you’re okay, now that the whole thing’s over. I know it must have been quite a shock.”
Molly nodded and sipped her wine. This seemed to be just a friendly check-up. That at least was a relief.
“Yeah,” she replied, smiling. “It was a bit. You don’t really expect to get caught up in that kind of thing, do you?”
“No, I should imagine you don’t. Still, no post-traumatic stress disorder or anything then, that’s a relief. I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about that, my office is always open, and I can always arrange counselling, if you’d like.”
Molly nodded. “Thank you.”
He smiled and continued. “Still, lovely wine, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” Molly mumbled through another swig. She swallowed quickly. “It’s a strange one though, tastes a little of pick’n’mix. Sherbert lemons as well maybe.”
The headmaster laughed. “I didn’t quite get that! Fruity, yes, but sherbet lemons?” He smiled. “Anyway, I must be going. I have to be on the podium in a couple of minutes. Congratulations on your award tonight, you definitely deserved it. You bring a lot to this place.”
With that he shuffled away through the gathering crowd of staff and pupils, in the direction of the stage steps.
Molly smiled as he left. The man always made her feel unreasonably nervous, and uneasy too. He was the kind of man who it was obvious had a bit of a ruthless streak. Still, tonight he had been okay, so that was something.
She stood for a few seconds and looked around the crowd. If she was honest the whole evening was a bit much. The place was a little hot and she was feeling queasy. She kind of wished she could head home already.
She spun as she felt someone tap her shoulder, raising one hand to bat it off before she realized what she was doing. It was Mrs. Bragg. The old secretary was dressed in a dated looking beige dress, with a green cardigan, and she looked unbelievably nervous. She was holding a wine glass in one hand, but she was struggling to keep any wine in it. Her hand was shaking so violently that the liquid was slopping up and down the inside of the glass, threatening to spill over at any minute. She seemed to be aging before Molly’s eyes – and Molly could swear that her hair was whiter than it had been two days ago. Evidently being a secretary was a more stressful job than it seemed.
Molly held out a hand to steady the secretary’s arm, holding onto her gently. She genuinely looked like she could keel over at any moment. “Are you alright, Mrs. Bragg?”
“Oh I’m fine, my dear, thank you,” Mrs. Bragg replied, but honestly from the way she was croaking, Molly wasn’t sure she believed her. Even still, she released her arm and smiled congenially.
“Are you sure? You look like you could use a sit down.”
The secretary looked tempted for a minute, but then she shook her head violently. “No, no time. I have to talk to you.”
“What about?” Molly asked, trying for a smile.
“Terrible things, my dear, terrible things.”
Molly frowned. Terrible things? She almost brushed it off as more secretarial gossip, but the look in Mrs. Bragg’s eyes convinced her otherwise. She looked scared, and she was tottering about yet more.
“Why don’t you tell me everything?” asked Molly. She began to lead the secretary over to the chairs, although to be honest she was feeling a little groggy herself. They really were keeping this room far too hot.
As they were walking away, the secretary spotted Molly’s half-empty wine glass on the table. She dived for it and held it aloft, staring into the liquid, as if she could see something of intense importance inside.
“Did you drink this?” she asked, shaking.
Molly smiled and nodded. “Good, isn’t it?”
“You shouldn’t…”
“Good evening.”
The new voice made them both start. Paul had emerged from the crowd and was walking towards them.
Molly was about to reply, but the secretary was evidently much less happy. She gasped and, without warning, dropped the glass onto the floor. It bounced and spun and spilt liquid in all directions.
The secretary looked at Molly, and then over at Paul. “I’ll go and get some towels,” she said, grimacing and, without stopping to say anything else, she hurried away, disappearing into the crowds of staff and students.
Paul smiled sheepishly and Molly got her first good look at him. He was wearing a black suit with a red tie, and for once in his life he seemed actually to have gone to the effort of brushing his hair. The effect was slightly dazzling.
“I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this,” he said, smiling. “Looks like the secretary’s not pleased to see me.”
“No...” Molly replied, watching the spot where Mrs. Bragg had disappeared. “But I am.”
Paul beamed. “Seems like a busy party.”
Molly nodded. “How did you get past security?” she asked, motioning at the doors. “Isn’t this supposed to be invite only?”
“It’s one of the perks of being a small-town policeman,” Paul replied. “Everyone knows you, and you can usually get in anywhere. I helped catch the janitor’s runaway dog in March, and now we’re pretty good friends. I just had to tip him the wink.” He straightened his tie self-consciously. “I thought it might be nice to drop in and congratulate you.”
“Well it is.” Molly smiled. “Let’s grab some seats though. Honestly I feel a little groggy.”
Paul nodded. “The wine’s that good, huh?”
Molly grimaced. “I’ve had one glass all night.”
She began to thread her way through the crowds with Paul close behind. “Don’t drink too much of it though,” she called back. “This place is already spinning.”
“You do seem a little unsteady on your feet,” Paul replied. He reached for her arm and guided her over to the chairs. “Sit down, there.”
Molly flopped down onto the chair and smiled weakly. “Evidently I can’t handle my wine as well as I’d thought.”
Paul laughed and sat down next to her. “You’re not alone. Give me three beers and I’m anybody’s.”
Around them, people were beginning to take their seats as the headmaster walked out onto the stage. Molly closed her eyes for a few seconds as the crowd began to applaud his arrival. It seemed like the week’s events were finally catching up with her. She had never felt so tired. At least she was sitting in a comfortable chair. She glanced up at the stage. Were there two headmasters now? And why was the room swinging around so much? She closed her eyes again. She was feeling completely disorientated. She looked over at Paul, but he was watching the stage closely, laughing at some joke the headmaster had made. She needed to get his attention – she had to go home.
She reached out her hand to nudge Paul’s arm, but her limb didn’t seem to be obeying her properly. No matter how she tried, she could only flail her arm slightly. With a supreme effort of will, she swung her arm and grabbed at Paul’s jacket as she fell sideways off her chair and into the aisle beside her. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness completely was Paul’s concerned face looking down at her. He was shouting something to one of the other guests, but somehow it seemed a little unimportant now. She just needed to sleep. She closed her eyes for just an instant, and she was gone.
Molly woke up to find herself in a bright room. She was lying in a comfortable bed, her head propped up on three pillows. For a second her vision swam as she opened her eyes, but it didn’t take long for them to adjust. She looked around at her surroundings in confusion. At first glance it looked like she was in a tiny grey-green room, but she soon recognized that these were just curtains, with light streaming through from some window on the other side. She looked down at herself. She was wearing green scrubs, and she had cannulas going into both arms, attached to drips on stands behind her head. A hospital bed then. But why?
She tried to think back to the last thing she remembered before she woke up here. The awards evening… had she fainted?
The sound of sharp footsteps rang out across the room, and the curtains were cautiously drawn back just a little. Molly looked over to see Paul’s head poking through.
“Oh great,” he said, smiling. “You choose to wake up just as I leave for a snack.” He looked over his shoulder and called for the nurse.
A young woman in a blue uniform bustled into the enclosed bed area and smiled as she saw Molly awake.
“It’s good to see you’re feeling a little better,” she said, bustling around to check various machines positioned around the bed. “I don’t suppose you remember much of last night, do you?”
“Last night?” murmured Molly. Her throat felt like a porcupine had taken up residence inside.
“At the school,” said Paul. “You were poisoned, Molly.
“Poisoned!” she gasped, sitting bolt upright. The nurse gently grabbed her shoulder and guided her back down to a lying position.
Paul nodded and started to pace guiltily.
“Yes. We think it was the same method used to do in Virginia and Alexander. Probably the same drug.”
Molly groaned.
“How?” she asked, before answering the question herself. “The wine.”
“Yep. We don’t know why it didn’t actually kill you, but it’s certain that you’re very lucky to be alive.”
“I think I only had a sip. I would’ve had more, believe me, but that was when… yes. That was when Mrs. Bragg dropped my glass.”
Paul smiled.
“Well that’s a good thing at least. And I always said alcohol was bad for you.”
“Well today at least you were right,” said the nurse, smiling tenderly. “From what I hear from the consultant, you were pretty badly off when the ambulance got you here. I’m sure he’ll want to examine you when he gets back from his ward rounds, but whatever they gave you has a very short half-life in the body.”
“It leaves no trace that way,” said Paul.
“Yes,” the nurse agreed. “It seems to disappear almost immediately. Hopefully you should be up and walking in no time.”
“Well that’s good news at least,” croaked Molly.
Paul stopped pacing abruptly.
“Nurse, would you leave us alone for a little while? I want to get all the details before she forgets them.”
The nurse nodded and hurried out through the curtains and into the ward beyond. Paul flopped himself down into a chair next to the bed.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“Like a herd of elephants have been having a party, and I’m the piñata,” Molly replied, resting her eyes. “Did you catch who did it?”
“No,” replied Paul. “The Doves are all claiming that they’ve been in the house all day – it’s strange.”
“It wasn’t necessarily one of them,” said Molly. Paul nodded.
“But are you alright?” he asked. Molly glanced at him. Now that she’d woken up a bit she noticed he looked gaunt and pale.
“Paul, what’s going on?” she said.
He didn’t answer for a moment. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, grimaced and looked away for a second. Then he looked her straight in the eye.
“Something has happened. Someone’s been kidnapped.”
Molly’s eyes widened in shock. “Kidnapped? Who?”
“Someone from your school. Mrs. Bragg, the secretary. We’re not sure whether it’s related or not, but it all seems to revolve quite neatly around you. I thought you should be warned.”
“When did it happen?” asked Molly.
“She hasn’t been seen since last night, but she lives alone, so that’s not unusual.”
“How do you know she’s been kidnapped then?”
“Her house is empty, she’s nowhere in town, her car’s still in the driveway, and she missed dinner with a friend. She’s just gone. It wouldn’t have been noticed otherwise, most likely, but we found that her lock had been picked when we went to the house.”
Molly thought for a few seconds, then clapped her hands in excitement.
“Of course! It all makes sense now. How could I have been so stupid?”
“That’s a trick question, right?” Paul asked carefully.
“Paul…”
“Sorry. I assume you think this is related then?”
“Absolutely it is. And it tells us all we need to know. We need to go, now, and find the Doves. All of them.”
Paul put one hand on her bed.
“Molly, you’ve been poisoned, you’re not going anywhere. You’ll do yourself an injury.”
Molly glared at him and rolled her eyes. “Paul, this is about catching the murderer. I’m not staying in bed.”
At that moment there was a banging sound, a door being thrown open in the room outside. Molly heard the nurse say “You can’t…” and then another voice.
“I’m police Miss, please step aside.”
Paul was already halfway out of his seat when he heard the voice. He pulled the curtains closed as he left the cubicle.
“Step aside Paul,” came Officer Cartsome’s voice.
The curtain was swept aside and Molly blinked as sunlight streamed into her eyes. When she could open them again, she was greeted with a very unwelcome sight. Standing in the room, with an astounded looking nurse, were Finlay, Caterina and Officer Cartsome. Caterina was glowering down at her. There was a fire in her eyes that Molly hadn’t seen before. Molly pulled her covers up over herself a little tighter as Caterina raised her hand and pointed down at her.
“There she is. I’m identifying her.”
Cartsome nodded as Molly looked on. “This is the woman who’s been bothering your family?”
Caterina nodded.
“Yes, that’s the woman.”
Molly brought up her hands defensively, but it was too late to do anything.
“Right.” Cartsome strode quickly up the corridor. “Miss Molly Wright, I’m arresting you on suspicion of harassment. Now I understand that you’ve recently had an accident, but I think it’s best if we put you under police guard as we put some charges together. Officer Greenwood, you may go.”
“But...” Paul protested. Neither of them noticed as Molly grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen that was laying on the hospital cabinet next to her bed.
“You may go,” said Cartsome. Paul looked back at Molly in shock, and then began to walk away. As he left, Molly reached out and patted his hand. Cartsome motioned him away, but he didn’t see the note that Molly had passed into his palm. She winked, and then he left without a word. Molly was left with Cartsome and the Doves, who were clamoring around him.