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‘Nor can you prove it. Now, hurry along – let’s get all the Appleby stench out of this house. Oh, and you’d better grab that photograph of Mae, or I will certainly enjoy tossing it on the rubbish heap.’
‘You’re amazingly cruel,’ Fleur said, her tone bordering on fascination. ‘I’m sure you’d make a good study for someone who looks into personalities and disorders of the human mind.’
‘It’s not about being cruel, Fleur, it’s about being pragmatic. What is happening suits me.’
‘At any cost, obviously.’
‘You’ve always had your head in the clouds. The real world is cruel, as you say. So you need to protect yourself and what’s yours. You haven’t done a very good job of that.’
Before Fleur could respond, there was a firm rap at the door. She was halfway down the stairs anyway so decided to answer it, hoping against hope that it might be Tom. A change of heart, a final conversation, a chance to find out what he was thinking . . . Whoever it was, it had to be important for someone to ignore the cloth wrapped around the doorknocker and the closed curtains. She opened the front door to see Detective Inspector Green, on his own this time.
‘Oh, hello again. We weren’t expec—’
He removed his hat. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Appleby, Mrs Appleby,’ he said, looking past Fleur’s shoulder to where Irma stood not far behind. ‘I have some news and wanted to give it to you myself and in person.’
‘Come in,’ Fleur said, feeling a pit open in her stomach. This didn’t sound like the sort of news she wanted to hear.
‘Thank you.’ He stepped inside and followed them into the sitting room.
No one sat. Neither woman spoke. Fleur regarded the inspector with trepidation.
Finally he broke the silence. ‘Er, well, I’ll get straight to it. We’ve heard from the coroner.’ He waited a beat but again was met with silence. ‘Miss Appleby, I’m afraid to say there will be no coronial enquiry into your father’s death, which means no post-mortem.’
‘What?’ Fleur stepped back as despair flooded her. ‘How can this be?’
‘Please sit,’ he urged.
‘I don’t want to sit,’ she snapped, glancing at Irma, who looked like she’d just won first prize in something important, licking her lips with glee as her fat fingers formed chubby fists of triumph at her side.
‘Miss Appleby . . . Fleur, may I explain?’
‘Is there any point?’
‘I think you need to hear the rationale. You know I felt there was reason enough to at least pursue a post-mortem.’
Fleur just shook her head in dejection as he continued.
‘You see, the coroner did give it due consideration, but it was explained to me that given everyone, including the doctor and you, agrees that Henry Appleby’s liver was compromised through alcohol poisoning and would likely show cirrhosis, the other elements you were searching for were toxicity from shellfish poisoning and arsenic from rat poison.’
He paused and again no one said a word.
‘We know Henry ate a dozen oysters. Your claim of deliberate poisoning was not backed up by any proof, and the cook’s awareness of old oyster shells in the backyard is, at best, circumstantial, as I warned. The coroner assured me that even if seafood poisoning could be established, there’s no evidence that can categorically point a finger at Mrs Appleby as the culprit.’
Irma gave a grunt of satisfaction and Fleur’s shoulders drooped further.
‘But the arsenic,’ Fleur began anxiously. ‘No one consumes that willingly. If it’s in his body, he’s been poisoned, and we have proof and a witness to say Irma was getting through an inordinate amount of rat killer.’
‘Again, that’s all circumstantial – you have no actual proof of her feeding it to your father.’
‘Other than my test. She refused to drink it!’
‘It’s your word against hers. There were no witnesses.’
‘And I would hotly deny any wrongdoing with rat poison, Inspector. It’s a ludicrous suggestion,’ Irma said, disappearing with a haughty expression into her chins. She stood straighter, with pinched lips that spoke of self-righteousness.
Fleur had to look away, beyond despondent.
‘But it’s more complicated than that. The pathologist at the hospital explained to me that arsenic is present in so many everyday items, from medicine to rat killer, but especially prevalent in—’
