“But how…”
My mouth fell open. The necklace slipped from my fingers, clattering against the tiles.
Mrs. WinstonekilledGinny Button.
Mrs. Winstone laughed. “There, you see, dearie. I knew you’d understand. I ripped it from her before I pushed her down the stairs. The crunch as her neck snapped was like choir music – so beautiful, so righteous. It had to be done. Thank heavens the doctors were able to save the child.My child.”
“You killed Ginny?”
“She brought it on herself. She shouldn’t have been sleeping with my husband or having his baby, the baby that should have beenmine. She wanted to rub it in my face; that’s why she joined the Banned Book Club, so that I’d have to look across the teacups and see Harold’s baby growing inside her. That’s why she had Dorothy Ingram kick me off the youth group, so I’d have nothing, so I’d be so humiliated that I’d just fade away and she’d become the new Mrs. Harold Winstone.” Mrs. Winstone gave a sad shake of her head. “But one can only deal with so much before one bites back.”
“But if you killed Ginny, then who attacked you?”
“Oh, I knew that I’d be the first person suspected if Ginny was killed and it was discovered Harold was the father of her child. I figured she kept copies of her letters, in case she needed to blackmail me or Harold at a later date.” Mrs. Winstone’s eyes turned glassy. Mrs. Ellis came up behind her, a tea towel over her shoulder and a pursed expression as she listened to her cousin’s confession. “Ginny loved to use blackmail to get what she wanted – that’s why she had herself assigned as the assistant at Harold’s old hospital history project in the first place – she had access to all kinds of fascinating records. She had something on Dorothy Ingram, of that I’m certain.
“Anyway, gossip in this town works much faster than the police. And I needed everyone to look elsewhere for a murderer. So I set up my own attack, staged it perfectly, with just the right clues to lead the police to the other truly guilty person. I was saving the necklace to plant in Dorothy’s car as soon as I got out of the hospital. It’s the perfect way to ensure all involved get their just punishment.” Mrs. Winstone pointed to her bruises. “It hurt terribly, but not as much as Harold’s betrayal.”
“The other truly guilty person… you mean Dorothy Ingram?”
“Dorothy railed against me because of the Book Club, and yet she allowed that harlot to steer the church committee to fire me? It was not fair. The youth group was my one pleasure in life, and Dorothy took it away from me. With dear Gladys gone and me in the hospital, I was certain she’d be blamed because of her hatred of the book club, but the police are so incompetent, they want to make out that Ginny’s death was an accident!”
“Oh, Brenda,” Mrs. Ellis cooed, rubbing her cousin’s shoulder.
“I even left the walking stick in the bushes so they’d find it! But only you were clever enough to suspect Dorothy,” Mrs. Winstone said, tears pooling in her eyes. My stomach churned to think that I’d very nearly helped her frame an innocent woman. “All I ever wanted was a baby all of my own. Harold was going to have one withher. I couldn’t abide it. I just couldn’t. That child should have been mine.” She sank to her knees.
“There, there,” Mrs. Ellis patted her shoulder. As she did so, she drew her mobile phone from her carpet bag and tossed it to me, motioning for me to head outside with it. I marvelled at how calmly Mrs. Ellis was dealing with her own cousin’s murder confession. “Mina and I are going to help you. We’ll make sure that the police understand why you did what you did.”
“I wanted them all to suffer for what they did to me. Dorothy and Ginny and Harold are the ones who did wrong!”
But if you punished Ginny and Dorothy, then why not Harold?She must have loved him something fierce.
“We’ll make sure the police know that,” Mrs. Ellis cooed. Her eyes widened as she made a dialing motion at me behind her cousin’s back. “But you’ll have to come with us and tell the whole story, so they understand.”
“Yes, I suppose they should know everything,” Mrs. Winstone agreed.
My finger hovered over the keypad. A couple of things still didn’t add up. “What about Mrs. Scarlett? Why did you poison her? What part did she have to play in this?”
Mrs. Winstone tsked. “No, no. I never hurt Gladys. She was the one who told me about Ginny and Harold in the first place. Her unfortunate death gave me the perfect opportunity to ensure Dorothy would pay, but it was not my doing.”
Chapter Thirty-One
After making the call, I had to wait with Mrs. Winstone and Mrs. Ellis for the police to arrive. Every second stretched for eternity while I turned the question of Mrs. Scarlett’s murder over in my mind. If Mrs. Winstone hadn’t killed her, did that mean it was Sylvia Blume?
Quoth, if you can hear me, go back to the bookshop and tell Morrie and Heathcliff what happened.
I’m not leaving you until the police get here, Mina,was his only reply. Brown eyes ringed with fire peered in through the window, shadowing my nervous pacing across the sitting room.
Mrs. Winstone sat in her chair and rocked and rocked. She occasionally spoke to tell me more about Harold and how wonderful he was. Again, I wondered at how she could brutally murder an adulteress, frame another woman, and yet let her husband go on with his work like they were still the perfect couple.
I tried to ask her about Harold, but Mrs. Ellis shushed me.I guess it can wait for the police. It’s better not to aggravate her.
An eternity later, the doorbell rang. Inspector Hayes and Detective Sergeant Wilson stood on the stoop. Jo was behind them, carrying her crime scene kit. In the tree behind them, Quoth took off, soaring over the village in the direction of the shop.
“Mina Wilde,” Hayes said. “I thought I said that I never again wanted to see you mixed up in a murder investigation.”
“You did, and I agreed. I promise this is my last one.” I opened the door. “Come in. Brenda is in the living room. She has much to tell you.”
The officers sat on the floral sofa and started their formal interview. Mrs. Ellis held Mrs. Winstone’s hand while she poured out the sad tale again. Jo pulled me into the hallway.
