“Looks like, but we still need to confirm.”
“It’s like an Agatha Christie novel.”
A throat clears behind us, and we all turn to see a thin middle-aged woman with ash-brown hair wearing a Sainsbury’s uniform and looking tired and sad.
“Maddie, this is Clarissa, Mrs Abernathy’s niece,” I tell her pointedly as I move to stand next to the tearful woman.
“Very sorry for your loss,” Maddie says contritely, offering her hand. “I’m Detective Wilkes, and this is Detective Hayes.”
“I’ve met Danny,” she sniffles. “Call me Larry.”
“Larry?” Maddie blinks.
“Clarissa… Larry…” She shrugs. “It kind of stuck when I was a kid, and now it’s just what everyone calls me.”
“Larry!” Lois appears from nowhere, exclaiming loudly as if to make Larry’s point. “I’m so sorry, darling. Your aunt is going to be missed terribly.”
“What happened? I heard someone say something about her being poisoned?”
“Larry,” Danny says gently, “we don’t know what happened yet so we can’t make any assumptions, but it’s looking as if your aunt died from some kind of heavy metal poisoning, most likely arsenic.”
Larry gasps, her red-rimmed eyes widening in shock. “Arsenic? I thought that went out in the 1800s. Isn’t that what little old Victorian ladies used to bump off their husbands?”
“It’s still around, just not widely used,” Danny replies.
“I can’t believe this.” Larry presses her palm to her forehead. “Who would want to hurt her? She was just a sweet, harmless old lady who didn’t even know what day of the week it was.”
“I don’t know but we’re going to find out, I promise,” Danny says.
Lois puts a comforting arm around her. “You look like you’ve had a long, hard shift, and this has all been a terrible shock.” She gives Larry a little squeeze and releases her as she turns to look at me. “Tristan, why don’t you take Larry down to the dayroom, and I’ll bring you both some tea while the police do their work.”
I nod and head towards the dayroom, Larry walking along companionably beside me.
“How’s your dad?” she asks as we enter the room.
I flip on the lights and approach one of the tables. “He’s…” I give a helpless little huff as I take a seat.
“I get it.” She nods and sits down, shifting a stack of board games out of the way.
“He had a good day today,” I say softly.
“You take them when you can.” She pulls out her phone, staring at the screen with a frown.
“I know it’s a stupid question, but are you okay?”
She places her phone face down on the table with a huff of frustration. “I’ve been trying to get hold of my mum. Aunt Delores is… was her older sister.”
“You haven’t been able to reach her?”
“She’s on a cruise with number 32.” Larry rolls her eyes.
“Number 32?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“That would be lover number 32, husband number 8.” Larry offers a small smile. “You’d think at her age, she’d slow down some. When I was growing up, there was an ever-revolving door of men in Mum's life. She fell in love as often as some women change their knickers. Fortunately, she didn’t marry all of them, but there were enough of them that it was just easier to assign them a number rather than bother learning their names.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Larry looks up when Lois wanders into the room with a tea tray laden with a plate of biscuits, a teapot, two sturdy mugs, and several pots of milk and sachets of sugar. “Thanks, Lois.” She smiles tiredly as she reaches for a mug and pours herself a strong cup of tea.
