Doom and Bloom by H.Y. Hanna

Author:H.Y. Hanna
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Wisheart Press
Published: 2019-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Poppy stared at the knife, wondering what to do. The obvious thing, of course, was to call the police and report it. Surely, now that Sergeant Lee had new evidence in the case, he would be willing to consider alternative theories? Then her mouth tightened as she remembered the way Lee had brushed her off. Somehow, she had a bad feeling that the arrogant sergeant would still insist on sticking to his original theory. He would simply say that the ex-robber had managed to bury the murder weapon in the old rock garden before he was arrested, or something similarly ridiculous. Poppy had seen before how the sergeant massaged facts to support his theories, instead of the other way around.

I should just bypass Lee and go straight to Suzanne, she thought. She had hesitated to do that so far because it seemed petty to challenge the sergeant’s authority on the case and it made her feel like she was telling tales to his superiors. After all, if Suzanne trusted her sergeant to handle the case, then who was Poppy to question that? Except that he’s not handling the case properly! fumed Poppy. He’s not considering all the alternative scenarios, the other potential suspects…

She stared down at the knife again. Perhaps there will be fingerprints that can be lifted, she thought, looking down at the rough, porous surface of the wooden handle. Or perhaps DNA fragments or some other kind of marker. The forensic technology available nowadays is amazing, and even if the murderer just brushes things with their bare fingers—

The thought of “fingers” brought the image of dirty fingernails suddenly to her mind. Betsy the maid… and her fingernails with soil embedded underneath... Poppy recalled the girl’s pale, frightened face and the way she had seemed so nervous and jumpy yesterday. And then she remembered the way Betsy had come running breathlessly into the kitchen. Where had she been? Poppy glanced down at the knife again. Outside burying the incriminating murder weapon?

On an impulse, she sprang up and hurried back to the manor with the knife carefully wrapped in her gardening gloves. She approached via the rear of the building and was pleased when she found the utility room door open, with Betsy just backing out, carrying a basket of laundry.

"Betsy?"

The girl jumped and whirled around. “Yes?” She relaxed slightly as she saw Poppy. “Oh, it’s you.”

Poppy said without preamble: “I was digging in the old rock garden and I found something strange…” She held up the knife for the girl to see. Betsy’s eyes widened and her face drained of all colour.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Poppy said, taking a step forwards. “You buried the pruning knife under that rock. That’s why you had soil under your fingernails yesterday. You were trying to get rid of the murder weapon—”

“NO!” cried Betsy, her face horrified. “I would never—I didn’t kill Miss Ursula! I couldn’t murder anyone—”

“But you did bury the knife?” insisted Poppy.

The girl hesitated for a moment, looking as if she was going to deny it, then she crumpled and nodded.

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