“Was it murder?”
Sergeant Duke straightened his glasses and gazed out across the rows of those assembled until he attached the question to an unfamiliar man with a notebook and an expensive suit, leaning against the wall at the back of the room.
“Robin Clements,” said the man, “reporting for theSydney Morning Herald. Was it murder, sir?”
Duke returned his attention to the notes he’d brought with himto the podium and hesitated a little longer than he might have otherwise, signaling that he would be going at his own pace, thank you very much, and not to meet the expectations of an out-of-state reporter. “We’re not excluding the possibility of accidental poisoning, but for the purposes of investigation the deaths are being treated as suspicious and murder has not been ruled out.”
A rumble of conversation went around the room, just as Sergeant Duke had known it would. Maud McKendry, sitting on the end of the front row, sealed her lips in a firm line of concern, her arms folded tightly across her middle.
“You think there could be a murderer at large?”
Duke spotted the reporter who’d asked the question in the back corner of the room: Cedric Barker, a local newspaperman, dogged but fair, with whom he’d spoken on numerous occasions in the past. “That’s not what I said.”
“You think the person who did it is among the deceased?” This was Clements again.
“I’m here to tell you what I know, Mr. Clements, not what I think.”
As a matter of fact, although he had no intention of sharing it here and now, that was exactly what Sergeant Duke was thinking. He’d mused over the Kilburn case all weekend, along with what he knew of the Turners, and his initial suspicion had only strengthened. It seemed clear that the Turners had been poisoned, even if pathology had not yet been able to provide knowledge of the poison used; as to the poisoner, while it always paid to keep an open mind, he was keen to learn whether Mrs. Turner had motive, opportunity, and capability.
“Can you at least tell us what comes next?” Barker this time.
“We will begin our investigation as soon as we’re finished here,” Duke replied. “No effort will be spared. We will learn what happened to the Turner family. No matter what it takes, we’ll learn the truth.”
***
23
Sydney
December 13, 2018
Jess had slept poorly, woken frequently, and lost all track of time. When she did manage to sleep, her thoughts were filled with scenes from the past, half-remembered, dream-embellished, in which she inhabited various versions of her younger self. She was a toddler on the beach, a ten-year-old left with Nora, a bright-eyed graduate arriving in London to begin her big adventure.
When she finally awoke for good on Thursday morning, she lay in the dark letting the dreams disintegrate until only the awful events of the day before remained. The long dawn lay ahead, and Jess was imprisoned by lethargy that made her limbs as heavy as lead.
She was still lying in the same position when first light started to color the room mauve, when the bright morning sun made it hard not to squint, and at ten past nine when her mobile began to ring. Jess fumbled her phone from the dressing table and saw Nancy Davis’s name on the screen.
She answered and, after thanking Nancy for sending through her uncle’s notes, paused momentarily before saying, “Nancy, I have some very sad news. I feel I have to tell you. It’s Nora. I’m afraid... I’m afraid she... yesterday...”
“Oh my God,” came Nancy’s voice down the telephone line. “Oh, Jess, I’m so sorry. I can’t quite believe it.”
“Neither can I.” Jess could see on her bedside table the small box the hospital had given her containing Nora’s jewelry. She hadn’t been able to open it yet; she knew already what she’d find inside and how grotesquely out of place the familiar items would look.
“You know,” said Nancy gently, “one of the things that always mademe smile when I read my uncle’s book was his depiction of Nora trying to cover her unborn baby’s ears when her niece and nephew were bickering on the landing.”
Jess gave a strangled laugh; almost a sob.
“Even then, her instinct was to protect those she loved. Just as she tried to protect Isabel’s reputation after the terrible events at Halcyon.”
“She was very loyal and caring,” Jess agreed. “Too caring at times. I had to plead with her not to come to some of my school functions. She was often the only adult there other than the teachers!”
“Sounds like she was a very proud grandma.”
Jess closed her eyes. She’d been more than that. “Nora all but raised me.”
“Did she?” The fondness was still there in Nancy’s voice, but it now took on a note of concern: “I hope... Jess, I hope nothing happened to Polly?”
Jess hurried to reassure her that Polly was fine, it was only that mother and daughter had grown estranged over time.
