The Corpse with the Sapphire Eyes (28 page)

I could also tell that Idris was impatient about the break in our previous conversation—not because he was interested in my theories about David's death, but because he wanted to know more about my thinking regarding the Cadwallader Cache. His entire body had become taut before Owain stormed out of the room, and I could tell he was eager to hear what I knew—or, at least, to hear what I thought I knew.

But we were all consumed with the sight before our eyes. A fellow human being was in deep distress, and we couldn't ignore the needs of a woman who'd lost her husband.

“I'll pour you a glass of port,” said Idris, rising once again from his seat. “Or I could go and get some brandy, if you'd prefer?”

Rhian shook her head and allowed Eirwen to guide her to a seat close to the fireplace. “The logs will get going in a minute,” said Eirwen gently, “and you can get cozy here. How about I go and make you some hot milk, and you can have a drop of whiskey in it? It's Alice's favorite, and it might help to warm you through.”

“It's not really Alice's favorite,” said Rhian gloomily. “Janet puts doping stuff in it. Alice just goes off to sleep in a fog, drugged up to the eyeballs. Janet's been doing it since she got here. She told me she does it to all her old biddies, so they don't fuss in the night and wake her up.”

Idris shifted in his chair uncomfortably as Siân said, “That's a very bad idea. Believe me, when I worked on geriatric wards, before my specialist training, I'd have liked nothing better than to be able to give all my patients knock-out drops so I could have quieter shifts, but you just can't do things like that. Idris—where did you find Janet? Is she qualified?”

Idris and Eirwen exchanged a glance. Idris was the one who spoke. “We've used the same agency for years, but they . . . well, they sort of kicked us off their books when Danuta, Alice's last nurse, left here. They said that Alice was too demanding, and suggested we try an alternative company. Janet is the first girl we've had from them. She's not actually a nurse, but a health care assistant.”

“She's
not
a nurse?” Siân sounded horrified. “But you refer to her as ‘Nurse.' What is she exactly?”

Idris puffed out his cheeks and took a gulp of his port. “She's a member of the Royal College of Nursing—and she's studying for her National Vocational Qualifications in health and welfare. She'd been working at a care home not far from here for about eighteen months. The agency said she'd be a good fit—though, to be fair, they didn't seem to have a lot of people on their books who wanted to live in a private home, albeit a castle.”

The logs in the fireplace shifted and finally began to burn.

Siân looked stern as she responded to Idris. “If she's got no qualifications, and she's not working under the supervision of a
real
registered nurse, then why is she allowed to administer any sort of medication? Unless it's something prescribed by your grandmother's doctor, for example, she shouldn't be doing it.”

“I know,” said Idris. “I didn't know she was. What Rhian just said is the first I've heard of it.” He looked guilty as he turned to his wife. “Eirwen, what have we done? The agency fee was so low, I suppose I should have known they might not have the best people. But Alice is so difficult to please, and she seems to like Janet a great deal. She's been a lot easier to live with since Janet arrived. Thinking about it now, Alice has mentioned how much better she's been sleeping recently. It didn't occur to me that Janet might be taking things into her own hands.”

I looked at my sister, who was alert and engaged. For the first time since she'd arrived at Castell Llwyd, Siân's body language seemed to mark her out as a person, fully formed, with a purpose.

Even her tone of voice seemed different as she said, “Rhian, did Janet say what she was giving Alice?”

Rhian shook her head.

“I should check this,” said Siân. “It's my responsibility as a nurse. And I think I should go now.” Siân stood and stretched her arms above her head. “Oh dear, I'm still not right after that flight,” she said, and I noticed her grimace as she arched herself, her hands in the small of her back. As she stretched, she said, “If Alice is on the same sort of powerful painkillers I've been prescribed for our common condition, there are a lot of sleep aids that would be contra-indicated, because of possible negative interactions between drugs. Alice's health could be in danger. It's best to check right now. Cait, will you come with me?”

“But Cait was just about to tell us . . .”

Eirwen kicked her husband as he spoke, then glared at him. “Idris,” she snapped. “It's more important for Siân and Cait to find out if Alice is being dangerously drugged by an inadequately qualified caregiver, hired by us on the cheap, than for you to have the chance to talk to her about some mythical treasure. Go on, you two. I hope this is something and nothing, but you should find out. We'll wait here.”

AS SIÂN AND I WERE
just about to leave the drawing room, Bud called after us, “Cait, I'm sure Siân will be just fine dealing with medical matters on her own—and I think it would be a good idea if she was accompanied by a family member, don't you agree?”

Across an expanse of mismatched furnishings and oak flooring topped with aged, handmade rugs, and within a womb of wood panels, I saw my fiancé, my love, pleading with me. He hadn't said the words aloud, but I knew exactly what he meant.

“I agree,” I said firmly. “Siân, you don't need me for this—medicine is your field, not mine. I won't be any help at all. But Bud's right, this is a family matter, and Idris is the one who retained ‘Nurse' Janet, so I think you two should tackle these matters together. I'll stay here, and you can come back and tell us how you get on, okay?”

Siân's smile spoke volumes. I saw pride, gratitude, and sisterly love there, and it felt good. I usually like to be in charge, but I knew it was the right time to step aside for my sister.

“I'll walk up with you,” said Rhian. “I'll get myself a cardigan. I can't seem to get warm.”

“Let me go and get it for you,” said Gwen, rushing to Rhian's side. “You stay here by the fire.”

“Thanks,” replied Rhian, “but I might just go back up and stay there in any case. I don't think I'm going to be very good company.”

“I'll come with you—I'll settle you in and make sure you're comfy,” insisted Gwen.

Rhian and Gwen joined Siân at the doorway. Eirwen pushed Idris out of his seat, and he trotted behind the women as they marched out of the room. I could hear the soles of Siân's shoes clatter across the tiled hall, then they became silent on the carpeted stairs. It set me thinking.

I asked, “Eirwen, what can you tell me about that lift that Alice uses? Was it installed recently?”

With only Eirwen, Bud, and myself remaining in the once-again-cozy drawing room, it seemed that Idris's wife was glad to have something to talk about.

She gushed a little as she answered, “No, it was put in about twenty years ago, I believe. Obviously, long before my time here. I think Alice's back started to get really bad when she was in her early seventies. She really just uses the chair because of the stairs, and this place is so big, of course. It makes life easier all round.”

I was on full alert. “To be clear, are you saying that Alice is perfectly capable of walking about the place?”

I could tell that she was choosing her words carefully when she replied, “I wouldn't say she can get about easily. She has an old walking frame for getting around her apartment, but the stairs would just be too much for her. And, even in her motorized chair, she tires quickly.” Eirwen paused and added, “Mind you, maybe that's not natural, if Janet's been slipping her sleeping tablets.”

“So the little lift was put in to accommodate a non-motorized chair?” I asked.

Eirwen nodded.

I continued, “I noticed yesterday that the new chair doesn't fit into the little cab-thing very well, so I guessed that. But I also noticed that the lift is exceptionally quiet. That's unusual for something as old, and as basic, as that.”

An emotional cloud passed across Eirwen's eyes. “David did that,” she said. She looked up at me, and her eyes seemed suddenly tired—hooded. “When he and Rhian first married, and he moved in here, he seemed to be everywhere at once, doing so many jobs for everyone, and making us all feel . . .” she searched for the best word, “looked after.” She nodded, pleased with her choice. “He wasn't a stupid man, and he knew how important it was to have Alice on his side, so he was especially careful to give priority to the jobs that directly affected her life. That lift was number one on his list of things to fix, and fix it he did. It used to make the most dreadful grinding noise as it went up and down. David fitted some rubber shoes—I think that's what he said, but I might be wrong. It was a very long time ago. It's been wonderfully quiet ever since.” A wan smile curled her lips. “It was something that affected all our lives, because, in those days, Alice was up and down in it much more often that she is now, and it drove us all almost mad.” A broader grin cracked her lips open. “Of course, the trouble with it now is that no one ever knows she's coming. So there's a definite downside to what David did.” Eirwen paused, then added, as much to herself as to Bud and me, “But then, there always was.”

She snapped back to reality and smiled brightly.
Too brightly.

I decided to take my chance, with Idris out of the room, and be direct. “Eirwen, did anything
personal
ever happen between you and David Davies?”

“Don't be
twp
,” snapped Eirwen, “I wouldn't.”

“He wouldn't,” added Gwen at the same moment. I didn't know how long she'd been hovering at the door, but she reappeared as she spoke. The two women gave each other a surprised look, and Gwen deferred to Eirwen who was, to all intents and purposes, her hostess.

Eirwen composed herself as she said, “David was . . . well, he was quite forward on occasions. But he was always quite the gent. Gallant. Helpful, you know? But not feely touchy with me, or anything like that. Though I will admit that those eyes of his could be very—well, I suppose that ‘hypnotic' would be going too far, but they certainly pulled you in. Such long, dark lashes. The effect was extraordinary, if you know what I mean.”

“Do
you
know what she means, Gwen?” I looked directly at my mousey ex-schoolmate who was settling herself near the fire, having returned from making sure that Rhian was comfortable.

Gwen blushed. She nodded, dropped her head, and looked at the three of us as though she were a sad puppy. “He always knew what to say to make me feel better. He always made me feel special, that I'd done a good job, you know? And his eyes? Smashing, they were. Deep blue, with flecks of gold. Everyone said they were amazing. But, like Eirwen said, he was always very proper with me, too. Rhian and I are good friends, you see. Lovely man. So talented. I'll miss him a lot.”

I was beginning to get an inkling of exactly how much Gwen would miss David Davies, and it dawned on me that she was a woman who could quite easily find herself clinging to those who paid her any attention, however small. I wondered how the dashing David had coped with that attention. It sounded as though he was accustomed to using his appealing eyes and charming manner to ingratiate himself with women. He might have gone further.

With all the talk of eyes, I managed a quick glance into Bud's. They are pale blue, and whether kind or stern in the moment, they are always full of emotion. Best eyes in the world. Then I couldn't help but think of Angus. Angus with one green eye, and one almost blue. Angus with the mop of unruly hair that always made him look disheveled. Angus with the looks that were a cross between Tony Curtis and Robbie Williams. Angus with the wicked temper, and the rapier wit.

Bud must have noticed that I was deep in thought, because he stood and said, “Should I be doing something with the fire? Or could I maybe bring more logs into the room? We seem to be almost out of them. I guess I take this to carry them?”

“Thanks, Bud,” replied Eirwen, as Bud picked up an old coal bucket. “The logs are kept in a dry lean-to outside the music room. If you wouldn't mind, that would be super. I'll come with you, show you where they are.”

Bud and Eirwen left the room, so our entire group had dwindled to just Gwen and me. I forced myself to stop thinking about the man whose psyche had sought to destroy mine, then whose death had ruined my life even more completely, forcing me to run from Britain in an attempt to escape the tabloid press. I wanted to consider Gwen herself. I stared into the fire, always a comforting thing to do, though a log fire shifts and moves differently than a coal fire. The body of the fire glows differently, the sparks move more swiftly, the smell is so very different.

Once again the “coincidence” that Gwen had been in Cambridge when Angus and I had taken our last painful jabs at each other niggled at me.

“You're very quiet,” noted Gwen rather sulkily. “That's not like you.”

I wanted to say, “How would you know?” but decided against it. Gwen seemed to feel we had a stronger connection thirty years after I'd left school than I had even believed we had when I was there.
Odd.

Before I had a chance to say anything at all, Bud came back into the drawing room from the music room. I'd expected him to be carrying a brass bucket full of logs, but he wasn't. Rather unexpectedly he was carrying a kitchen knife with its handle wrapped in an old rag. “Look what we found, stuck in amongst the wood in the log pile,” he said. “I think this might be what someone used to slash Alice's portrait, otherwise why would it be there?”