The Donaldson Case (7 page)

The pair
worked their way through the house, tidying and cleaning the entire thing.
 
It was time for their evening meal when
they’d finished.

“After that
big lunch, I’m not very hungry,”
Joan
said as she and
Janet stood in the middle of their kitchen.

“Me, either,”
Janet agreed.
 
“But we should have a
little something.
 
Do we have to go
grocery shopping tonight?”

Joan
frowned.
 
“I forgot about the
shopping,” she said.
 
“I suppose we
should, though I hate going out this late.”

Janet
laughed.
 
“Let’s have something
light and then I’ll go into town and get the shopping.
 
You can relax.
 
You’ve had a long day.”

“If you do the
shopping, I’ll finish in the guest rooms,” Joan countered.
 
“They could both do with a little bit
more polishing.”

“They’re
perfect,” Janet disagreed.
 
“You’ll
wear yourself out trying to make them any better.
 
Just relax.”

“I can’t
relax,” Joan told her.
 
“I’m too
worried about Michael.
 
It’s better
I keep busy.”

Janet thought
about arguing, but her sister’s frown kept her from speaking.
 
Joan obviously had deeper feelings for
their troubled
neighbour
than Janet had
realised
.
 
Janet
could only hope that she could do something to help.

After a meal
of bread and soup, Janet headed to the nearby grocery store with a short
list.
 
After Monday or Tuesday, when
they had a better idea of what their guests would prefer, Janet would drive
over to the larger and less expensive store on the outskirts of the
village.
 
She could stock up then on
all of the things they needed.

When she
returned to
Doveby
House with the shopping, Joan was
vacuuming the guest rooms for the third time.

“I think
that’s enough vacuuming,” Janet said, taking the machine away from her
sister.
 
“It’s time for bed.”

“I’m not
tired,” Joan complained.

“Then read a
book,” Janet suggested.
 
“Grab
something at random from the library and read until you fall asleep.”

“I only read
the classics,” Joan argued.
 

“Maybe it’s
time to try something new,” Janet replied.
 
“I suggest Agatha Christie.
 
She’s a classic anyway, in her genre.”

“Detective
fiction,” Joan sniffed.
 
“Not really
my cup of tea.”

“Stop being
such a literary snob,” Janet said.
 
“There’s nothing wrong with reading just for fun.”

Joan looked as
if she was going to argue, but Janet spoke again.

“Think how
wonderful it would feel to simply lose
yourself
in a
book right now,” she said persuasively.
 
“Get lost on the Orient Express.
 
I highly recommend it.”

Before Joan
could argue further, Janet rushed up to her room and found the book.
 
She handed it to her sister with a
smile.

“Really, try
it,” she said.
 
“If you hate it, you
can stop reading after chapter two.”

“I’ll think
about it,” Joan said stiffly.
 
She
took the book and walked away towards her bedroom.

Janet smiled
as she watched her go.

Chapter
Seven

When Janet’s
alarm went off the next morning, she climbed out of bed and took a longer than
normal shower.
 
They weren’t in any
great hurry to get to Derby, she told herself.
 
And once the guests arrived, showers
would be hurried affairs.
 
Joan had
breakfast ready when Janet finally made her way down to the kitchen.

“I was
starting to think you’d overslept,” Joan said in a mild tone.

Janet could
tell that her sister wasn’t happy.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I took a long
shower to make up for all the quick ones I’ll have to take once the guests
arrive.”

“I wish I’d
thought to do that,” Joan muttered as she put plates of food on the kitchen
table.

“Maybe you
should have a nice long bath tonight,” Janet suggested.
 
“You prefer baths, anyway, and we should
be back from Derby in plenty of time.”

“I might just
do that,” Joan said.
 
“I just hope,
I mean, oh, never mind.”

Janet knew
exactly what Joan was hoping; that by the evening they’d have Michael’s problem
all sorted out.
 
Joan wouldn’t be
able to relax properly until the police had the drug thief in custody.

They ate
quickly, with little conversation.
 
Joan had pulled out their maps of the area and had already worked out a
route to the hospital in Derby.
 
Now
she showed Janet what she’d found.

“This little
side street is where the chemist shop is,” she said, showing Janet.
 
“We should be able to park at the
hospital and walk from there.
 
It
isn’t far.”

Janet
nodded.
 
“I think I’ll drive,” she
said softly.

Joan looked as
if she might object, but then shook her head.
 
“You probably should,” she agreed.

The drive
wasn’t a bad one and traffic was lighter than Janet had feared.
 
They were in Derby earlier than they
expected and quickly found the hospital and its vast and confusing car park.

“Do we know
which building Owen is in?” Janet asked as she turned onto the road that went
around the hospital complex.

“I didn’t
realise
the hospital was this large,” Joan replied.
 
“I have no idea.”

They drove
slowly around the entire facility, trying to read signs as they went.
 
Eventually Janet shrugged.
 
“I suppose we can walk if we have to,”
she said.
 

“Let’s try the
main building,” Joan suggested.
 
“We
know he isn’t in the maternity hospital or the children’s wing, after all.”

Janet pulled
up to the gates for the car park for the main hospital and took a ticket from
the machine.
 
After a moment, the
gate lifted and she drove through it.
 
It took the women a few minutes to find an empty space and Janet sighed
with relief as she turned the car off.
 

“I love to
drive,” she said.
 
“But I hate
having to park.”

Joan
laughed.
 
“I know what you mean,”
she said sympathetically.

The pair made
their way towards the hospital’s nearest entrance.
 
Once inside, they followed signs for
“information.”

“Good
morning,” Janet said to the elderly woman behind the information desk.
 
“We’re here to visit Owen Carter.”

The woman
shrugged and then slid her finger down the list she had in front of her.
 
“He’s on the surgical ward,” she said
after a moment.

Janet and Joan
exchanged glances.
 
“Perhaps you
could give us directions?” Joan asked politely.

The woman
sighed deeply and then opened a desk drawer.
 
She pulled out a map of the hospital building.
 
“You just have to go down this corridor,
take the lift to three, walk down to the end of the hall, turn left, go through
the double doors, turn left again and then turn right and then left again.”

While she
talked, she traced the route on the printed map.
 
As soon as she was finished speaking,
she slid the map back into her desk drawer and gave the sisters a huge fake
smile.
 
“Okay?” she asked.

“Thank you so
much,” Janet said gushingly.
 
“You’ve been ever so helpful.
 
I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your kindness.”

As the pair
walked away, Joan chuckled.
 
“You
can’t tell her how much, because we didn’t appreciate it at all,” she
whispered.

Janet shook
her head.
 
“The sign said she’s a
volunteer.
 
I’m not sure why she
bothers as she so clearly hates the job.”

“Maybe she
enjoys being difficult,” Joan suggested.

“I’m sure she
does,” Janet agreed.
 
Between them,
the sisters were just able to remember the directions they’d been so hastily
given.

“She gave us
the right directions, anyway,” Janet said as they walked into the surgical
ward.

“Let’s just
hope Owen is really here,” Joan replied.

The aide at
the nurses’ station smiled brightly at them.
 
“Oh, Owen doesn’t get many visitors,” she
said.
 
“He’ll be thrilled to see
you.
 
I’m sure he’s in the lounge,
watching a bit of
telly
.
 
He’s just about ready to be sent home,
you see, so he’s able to enjoy himself a bit.”

“What are we
going to say to him?” Joan hissed as the sisters walked towards the lounge.

“I have no
idea,” Janet replied, trying to sound unconcerned.
 
With every step, she was frantically
trying to think of a good excuse for their unexpected visit.

Owen was alone
in the lounge, listlessly flipping through the channels on a small television.
 
Janet knew he was in his late forties.
 
He had a full head of brown hair, and
his eyes, behind thick glasses, were also brown.
 
He stood up and Janet remembered that he
was quite tall.
 
She had forgotten
how he towered over them when they were in the shop.

“Ah, the
Markham sisters,” he said as they walked into the room.
 
“Michael told me you might drop by.
 
He’s ever so worried about the missing
stock from the shop.
 
I think he’s
concerned that I might be equally bothered.”

“And you
aren’t?” Janet asked.

“Not really,”
Owen shrugged.
 
“I know I haven’t
done anything wrong, you see.”
 
He
smiled at them.
 
“And I know Michael
hasn’t done anything wrong, either.
 
But it used to be his shop.
 
I think he still feels responsible for it, even though it’s nothing to
do with him.”

“So who do you
think has been stealing drugs from the shop?” Janet blurted out.

Joan looked
shocked at the blunt question, but Owen just shrugged.

“I’ve had a
lot of time to sit here and think,” he replied.
 
“And I don’t think I’m any closer to
figuring that out.
 
Obviously, it
wasn’t me.
 
And there’s no way
you’ll ever convince me it was Michael, either.
 
If he wanted to get up to no good, he
had plenty of years to do so while he owned the shop.”

“So that
leaves Ethan Bailey and George Hawkins,” Janet said.
 
“Does either of them strike you as
likely culprits?”

“I’ve known
both men for many years,” Owen told her.
 
“I simply can’t see either of them stealing.
 
And it isn’t just that.
 
All chemists have a healthy respect for
the controlled substances we work with.
 
The idea of one of us selling them on the street is just crazy.”

“How are you
feeling?” Joan asked after the awkward silence that followed Owen’s
pronouncement.

“I’m fine,” he
said with a wave of his hand.
 
“Really, they should have let me go last week, but I’ve no one to go
home to and they don’t want me totally on my own for a while.
 
I’m lucky it’s pretty quiet in here and
they haven’t had to ship me off somewhere else.”

“I’m glad
you’re doing so well,” Joan replied.
 

“I’ll still be
signed off work for another six weeks or so,” he told her.
 
“That’s why they sent this Matthew
Rogers up.
 
He’s meant to cover for
me.”

“Could he be
the culprit?” Janet asked.

“I’ve never
met the man, but the bosses at the central headquarters seem to think very
highly of him.”
 
Owen shrugged.
 
“As I understand it, he was only here for
about an hour before he rang the police.
 
Changing all of the records and things would have taken quite a bit of
time.
 
I can’t see how he’d have
managed it.”

“Michael said
there have been a lot more returns and other little issues lately as well,”
Janet said, hoping she wasn’t being too nosy.

“There have
been too many people in and out of there since I’ve been unwell,” Owen told
her.
 
“I wanted Michael to cover for
me, but head office kept chopping and changing things.
 
Michael did a few days and then they
called George and he did a week, but before he was properly settled in they
called Ethan for the next week.
 
It’s hardly surprising that a few little errors occurred.”

Janet
nodded.
 
“Have you spoken to the
police?” she asked.

Joan shook her
head, but Janet ignored her.

“They’ve been
to talk to me a couple of times,” Owen replied.
 
“But I haven’t had much to tell them.”

“We should
have brought you a book,” Joan exclaimed.
 
“I do hope you have plenty to keep you busy while you’re here.”

Janet sat back
and let her sister chat with the man about the relative merits of crossword
puzzles and science fiction novels.
 
She had dozens more questions to ask, but she didn’t want to be
rude.
 
After twenty minutes, a nurse
stuck her head in.

“Sorry to
interrupt, but the doctor would like to see Mr. Carter now,” she said.

“We should be
going anyway,” Janet replied, standing up quickly.
 
“It’s been lovely to see you, though.”

“Likewise,” he
said.
 
“I do hope you’ll stop to
visit me at the shop once I’m back to work.”

“Of course we
will,” Janet assured him.
 
They
walked with him down the corridor to his room, as it was on their way out.

“Thank you
both for stopping by,” he said at his door.
 
“It’s always nice to have visitors.”

“It was nice
to see you, too,” Janet told him.
 
“We’ll see you back in
Doveby
Dale soon.”

“Are we still
planning to walk to the shop where George Hawkins is working?” Janet asked as
the sisters boarded the lift.

“I suppose
so,” Joan replied.
 
“It isn’t
raining and it doesn’t look far on the map.”

They stopped
at the car to check the map again and then set out, happy that they had a
better idea of where they were going than they had in the hospital.
 
The walk was longer than they’d expected,
however, and Janet was quite pleased to finally see the shop in the distance
after several minutes of making their way through the busy city streets.

At the door to
the shop, Janet paused.
 
“I don’t
know what to say here either,” she told Joan.
 
“I’m so glad that Michael told Owen we
were coming.
 
That broke the ice
nicely.”

“Maybe he’s
told George as well,” Joan suggested.

“Oh,
dear.
 
I was just planning on doing
some shopping and then trying to start a conversation.
 
If Michael’s told him we’re coming, that
makes it awkward,” Janet said.

Before they
could debate further, a young woman interrupted.
  
“If you’re not going in, do you
think you could move along?
 
I need
some nappies.”

Janet flushed
and then stepped back, holding the door open for the young woman and her large
pushchair.
 
The baby inside was
adorable, but as Janet smiled at him she got a whiff of something that
suggested the mum needed the nappies quite urgently.

The shop was
only a little bit larger than the one in
Doveby
Dale,
surprisingly small for a big city store.
 
Janet and Joan wandered around for a few minutes while the woman bought
what she needed.
 
Janet found
herself watching George as she pretended to browse the shelves.

He was probably
somewhere in his sixties.
 
As he
walked back and forth through the shop, helping the woman find what she needed,
he mumbled constantly to himself, often stopping to rub the top of his head,
which was completely lacking in hair.
 
He had a pair of glasses in his hand and he was forever putting them on
to study something and then pulling them back off again.