‘Very elegant.’
Again she gave that smile, and then sighed as she drew out a kitchen chair for herself and sat down.
‘My mother was always perfectly dressed; she was adored by my father, but he found her lack of interest in anything other than her designer clothes and beauty treatments irritating,’ she said confidingly. ‘He was such a brilliant and intelligent man, but when she became ill his patience with her evaporated and he could hardly face her. She had breast cancer, and it spread to her lungs and eventually her brain. Her last months were pain-racked until the morphine injections, but then she didn’t eat, and just lay in bed slowly fading away. I was taught at home by Daddy as he needed me to look after her; he was a well-educated University man and the most vibrant and inspiring tutor, also well-travelled and he spoke numerous languages.’ She flicked back her glossy hair.
‘Did you go to University?’ Deirdre asked rather lamely.
‘Oh yes, Oxford just like Daddy, and I got a scholarship to study for a Master’s Degree in America, but I never felt very happy there.’
‘Why was that?’
‘I missed Marcus so much, and we were very much in love. He was very understanding about me going to Harvard and said we’d get married when I finished there. Daddy was very disappointed when I insisted we come back to England.’
‘Oh, so your father was in America with you?’
She laughed and said that he was never far away from her, and made another expansive gesture with her hand. ‘I had a few issues, health-wise, you know, the normal teenager and young women things, like depression and deep sadness.’ She suddenly laughed before continuing. ‘I think Daddy knew from the beginning Marcus was bisexual, but I didn’t even consider it, even though his so-called close friend Simon Boatly obviously was, as they were always together.’
Deirdre was trying to ascertain exactly where it was all leading. It was her job to help bereaved or anxious families, but this situation was totally unexpected because Lena appeared to be enjoying her disclosures, talking about her husband with obvious affection, even accepting his sexual inadequacies.
Lena pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Why was that sweater in his stinking flat? I have had the humiliation of being told he had whores there; he hardly ever had sex with me, but he had whores and my daughter was forced to watch him screwing them. That disgusting animal Simon has always been like a predatory leech, dangling his body and wealth, enticing Marcus away from me. I wanted to show him just how pitiful Simon was and that he even came on to me in that hideous flat of his.’
She was becoming very agitated, curling a strand of hair around her finger, then pulling at it as if wanting to drag it out by the roots. She suddenly started to gasp for breath, her chest heaving.
‘LENA, stop this now, just take deep breaths, try and slow down . . .’
Deirdre began opening drawers, searching for a bag for Lena to breathe into, but she couldn’t find one. Lena’s face was now shining with sweat and then she slumped onto the floor.
‘Oh my God, oh my God.’ Deirdre knelt down beside her, reaching round to support her head. Eventually the awful gasping sounds quietened and slowly her breathing returned to normal.
‘I am so sorry, so sorry,’ she whispered.
Reid took the brandy bottle straight to the forensic lab, and whilst he was there he was given the toxicology reports on Harry Dunn and Simon Boatly. Much to Reid’s relief, Boatly’s primary cause of death was HIV/AIDS, though he did have traces of mushroom poison in his body, not enough to kill him outright, but enough to exacerbate his respiratory problems, and effectively speed up his death. The toxicologist had found ingested traces of a mushroom called ‘Ink Cap’, which if eaten in isolation would have no ill effects, but if alcohol was consumed with it, or even many hours after, a reaction would set in.
Reid was stunned, and he now felt certain that Marcus Fulford was suffering from the same poison. He knew it was imperative that all the ‘enemies’ in Amy’s journal were contacted again and warned of the dangers so they could check not only for food but open bottles of wine or other alcohol that could possibly have been contaminated.
Marcus remained unconscious as his condition continued to deteriorate, while DCI Jackson waited at the hospital in the hope he would regain consciousness and be able to answer questions. Doctors had begun to frantically run tests. Specialists were called in and were discussing what if anything could be administered to halt further organ failure. The seriousness of his condition was causing increasing alarm as his liver was now damaged, and it was suggested they begin a revolutionary medical technique involving an artificial liver machine, which could potentially remove the toxins by filtering his blood through charcoal granules. However, by now his heart was affected and his lungs were collapsing. The medical staff was informed that the usual standard procedure would have been to pump his stomach to remove the toxins, but Marcus had vomited almost as soon as he had been admitted and was again retching and sick the following morning. The most unnerving fact was that with all the new modern science there was no antidote as yet discovered.
Chapter 35
‘T
ruffles!’ exclaimed a concerned Harriet Newman. ‘I’m pretty sure Amy brought a box of them to the house and they were home-made.’
The Newman family were high on the priority list and were scared, having listened to DS Lane explain that the mushroom poison might also be contained in alcoholic or normal liquids as well as many types of food.
Bill Newman interjected. ‘We were worried for Serena and our two small boys since DI Reid told us about the possibility of poisoning. Harriet and I decided to throw out everything in the fridge and deep freeze.’
Harriet nodded, ‘And luckily there were no opened bottles of wine and the alcohol is kept in a locked cabinet away from the children.’
‘Can you tell me more about when Amy brought the truffles round?’ Lane asked Mrs Newman.
She thought about the question before answering. ‘It wasn’t on her last visit but a previous one a few weekends before. They were a thank-you for having her to stay. The small box was rather elegant, but the sweets themselves had marzipan in them, which no one in our family likes.’
‘What did you do with them?’ Lane asked.
‘I can’t recall exactly, but I think I threw the box out,’ Harriet said.
‘And none of you have had any tummy upsets or suddenly felt violently ill?’
They all looked at each other and shook their heads before Bill Newman spoke.
‘Well Serena had a fever and was sick . . .’
‘Let’s not exaggerate, darling, it was more like the flu than anything else. She wasn’t eating while she felt ill anyway and I made sure she had plenty of water to keep hydrated.’
DS Lane noticed a look of dread on Serena’s face. ‘Do you know anything about the truffles?’
Serena said nothing at first, but when pressed by her mother to tell the truth she started to cry.
‘I took them to my room and hid them in my wardrobe and forgot about them, but the other day after Amy disappeared I found them and tried one. I took one bite but it had marzipan in it and I hate marzipan so I spat it out and threw the box in the bin.’
Mrs Newman was beside herself, shouting at and chastising her daughter for failing to remember this before, and her husband had to calm her down.
‘The boys could have eaten one of them, for God’s sake.’
‘Yeah, all right, darling, but we’ll not know now if they were dangerous, and we should just thank God that Serena – in fact all of us – hate marzipan.’
‘But why did you try to eat it? You don’t like marzipan,’ Mrs Newman asked, almost shaking with agitation.
All the fight had gone out of Serena. ‘I just wanted to see what a truffle tasted like, I’m sorry.’
‘Well if the truffle did contain any poison then your mother giving you plenty of water was a good thing, and more than likely flushed out any dangerous toxins. You were very fortunate young lady,’ DS Lane said firmly as Serena started to cry.
Only an hour later, Marcus Fulford became the third poison-related death. Jackson and his murder team were in a state of agitation over who might be next and whether Amy Fulford was still alive and administering the poison. They were still waiting on the forensic report on the bottle of vintage brandy that Marcus had drunk from, but were reasonably certain that the contents were contaminated.
Deirdre had just got Lena to rest in her bedroom after the panic attack when DI Reid called and gave her the news that Marcus Fulford had died of organ failure. He said he had spoken with Marjory Jordan and she was on her way over to help Deirdre break the news and comfort Lena.
It wasn’t long after the call that Miss Jordan arrived at the house and told Deirdre that the journalists outside already knew about Marcus’s death as they had asked her about it.
‘How did he actually die?’ Miss Jordan asked.
‘I was told organ failure, but how the press have got hold of it is beyond me – they must have a contact at the hospital.’
‘How has she been?’
‘Under the circumstances extraordinarily calm,’ Deirdre said cautiously. ‘I suggested she visit her husband in hospital, while he was still alive, but she didn’t want to. She seemed to think she would be going to the studio for another
Crime Night
television interview, and got dressed and made up ready for it.’
‘Well probably for the best that she wasn’t subjected to it; the pressure she has been under must be taking a toll – she’s really very fragile.’
Deirdre remarked that Lena had told her at length about her past, and that she had been surprised at her degrees and University background. She also mentioned that Lena had told her about her mother’s cancer, and that she seemed very enthralled by her father’s intellect.
Miss Jordan gave a long sigh.
‘I have no intention of breaking patient confidentiality, but in reality I believe that her father married a great beauty with no brains and his daughter inherited both. I doubt she was enthralled by his intellect as he was very dominant and controlled her life for many years. The pressure proved to be too much, because while at Harvard she had a nervous breakdown, and they returned to London, so she never really put her academic prowess to any use.’
‘What caused the breakdown?’
‘Being apart from Marcus, with whom she was deeply in love, didn’t help and some old issues with her father raised their head again,’ Miss Jordan replied primly.
‘Funnily enough, I wondered why he would have been in America when she was studying. Were they very wealthy?’
Miss Jordan hesitated; again she was very guarded about discussing her patient, and repeated that she was not really allowed to give too many details.
‘They were extremely well off, but Lena’s father still lived in his old family semi-detached, and to all intents and purposes was very Scrooge-like. Lena was really her mother’s sole carer as he refused to hire any nursing staff, but I think the mother came from a wealthy family – big property developers. When they died Lena inherited a considerable amount of money, but her father monitored any access to her inheritance and it was not until his death that she realized she was exceptionally wealthy.’
Deirdre nodded; for someone refusing to divulge any patient details, Miss Jordan seemed unable to stop herself, as she went on to say that as far as she was aware Marcus Fulford was a very kind-natured man, who had never been her patient, but she was aware he had personal problems and his bisexuality troubled him.
Miss Jordan gave a long sigh. ‘Lena has bipolar disorder – at times her depression was very debilitating and to be diagnosed really helped her adjust, and with medication she has been able to cope. She’s a very good mother, but suffers from a guilt complex that she was not able to be more understanding of Amy, who inherited her brilliance and looks. Lena told me that at times she had overpowering feelings of jealousy towards her daughter. The awful emotional impact of Amy disappearing, I felt, would be very difficult for her to deal with, but she cancelled numerous appointments, and now with Marcus’s death she will really need my help more than ever before.’
Deirdre nodded in agreement and started to cry.
‘What’s wrong?’ Marjory Jordan asked.
‘Nothing, I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘Come on, tell me, Deirdre. I’m a good listener.’
She took a deep breath. ‘The stresses and strains of the last few days have become rather overwhelming and I’ve let them get to me. In my job that’s not good and now I’m dreading telling Lena that her husband is dead. I really feel DI Reid should have come over personally to break the news.’ She blew her nose on a tissue.
Miss Jordan sat her down and spoke quietly.
‘In many ways we are similar, Deirdre. You counsel the victims of serious crimes and families of murder victims, and so do I in cases where it causes psychological stress or damage. I am sure you understand patient confidentiality but I feel I can trust you . . . Lena was sexually abused by her father from an early age; it continued until she was sixteen years old and—’
They were interrupted as Lena shouted for Deirdre from the top landing. Miss Jordan picked up her case, saying she would go upstairs and tell her that Marcus was dead. Deirdre was so relieved, the tears that had begun a few moments before now came like a flood and she wept, out of total exhaustion, both emotional and physical.
Chapter 36
B
y seven o’clock Jackson was ordering the team to get together to decide how to handle the situation. Marcus Fulford’s death had become a big issue for the press office and it was fortunate for the team that he had become ill while his solicitor was present, and not found dead in the cell.
The team had cobbled together a timeline of when each victim could have eaten or drunk contaminated food, and they had confirmation that the residue in the brandy bottle contained the remnants of a lethal concoction from a variety of mushrooms, which were still being analysed to identify the exact fungi. The examination had verified traces of the Ink Cap mushroom, which would slowly take effect if alcohol were consumed after ingestion.