Death on a Short Leash (20 page)

“Don't worry. I've got the props.” She indicated the huge bunch of flowers on her lap.

“Don't attempt to go into Pru's room if there's a nurse nearby. And watch out for Williams.”

“Quit worrying. I'll meet you back in the car.”

Maggie was lucky and found a spot in the car park. “You go in first,” she said to Joan. “And for God's sake, remember you don't know me.” She watched in trepidation until Joan, brandishing the bouquet of flowers in front of her, had disappeared through the front entrance. Then she too slipped into the building and mingled with the other visitors waiting for the elevator. The second-floor residents seemed a bit more cheerful than the last time Maggie had been there. Tea had been served and several of them were chatting to their visitors.
I'll start with him,
she thought, seeing an elderly man sitting by himself. “I'm looking for someone whose first name is Hugh,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Don't know his surname.”

“Well, as it happens,” he replied with a grin, “you've hit the jackpot. I'm Hugh Wesel.”

“Then you knew Mrs. Elsie Slater.”

“Elsie! Of course. Great gal. She died a few months back.”

“What can you tell me about her?”

“Who wants to know?”

Maggie passed over a card. “Her son contacted us. Wanted to know if she was . . . uh . . . happy here.”

“That great lump of lard! Why should he care?” He passed a plate of cookies over to Maggie and then turned his attention to the maid hovering over him. “Vera, be so kind as to give this young lady a cup of tea.”

“This is a bit delicate,” Maggie said slowly, as she accepted the teacup. “But are the residents encouraged to leave money to Silver Springs?”

“So that's it,” he said, thumping his fist down on the table beside him. “Money! It's because she left a little money to Silver Springs, isn't it?”

Maggie nodded. “Her son thought she might have been coerced.”

“Coerced! That greedy son of hers and the rest of her goddamned family hardly ever visited her. She considered us,” he swept his arm around the room, “and the staff more her family.”

“You've never been . . . uh . . . encouraged to leave money to the nursing home?”

“No, dammit!” He took a sip of his tea. “Of course, you have to have money to afford to live here,” he said, “but I've never been asked for more than my monthly fees.”

“Do you know if anyone else has left money to Silver Springs?”

He shrugged. “Not something one talks about, you know.”

“What about Elsie? Did she mention that she was going to?”

“Yes.” He sat in thought for a moment. “But why not? The bulk of the estate had already been left in trust to that son of hers, and as you know, there are Slater Restaurants all over the province.”

Maggie finished her tea and stood. “So nice chatting to you,” she said, buttoning up her coat, “but I'd better go.”

“Here, hold on for a minute.” Hugh beckoned to a plump, silver-haired lady. “I want you to meet Rosemarie. Great friend of Elsie's. Rosemarie, this lady's enquiring about Elsie,” he said, introducing Maggie. “Wants to know if she was happy here?”

“She was as happy here as any of us can be under the circumstances. Not like your own home, you understand, but we have each other.”

“I believe Elsie had a little dog here,” Maggie said.

“Yes. She just loved that little Peke.”

“What happened to it?”

“That Dr. Williams took her away. Shame, really, as I was quite willing to have her.”

“Why didn't you ask for her?”

“Didn't have a chance. The dog was gone as soon as Elsie was.”

“Ah! Mrs. Spencer.” Maggie turned at the sound of the dreaded voice. “Talking to our residents here, I see.” Mrs. Truebody beamed at Maggie. “This lady is thinking of bringing her mother to live with us here.”

“I see . . .” Hugh's voice trailed off and he gave a slight wink to Maggie.

“Mother just can't make up her mind,” Maggie cut in. “Well, have to run. So nice meeting you,” she told Hugh and Rosemarie, and she escaped out the door, hoping that they would keep quiet about the real motive for her visit.

As Maggie slid into the driver's seat, she checked her watch. Joan still wasn't back.
God! I hope she hasn't got caught.
She would wait for another five minutes, and then she would have to go looking for her.

• • •

UNFORTUNATELY, THE VISITORS
had thinned out by the time Maggie made her second foray into the building, and she just prayed that she wouldn't bump into Mrs. Truebody again.

“Can I help you, madam?” the receptionist asked, looking at the large clock on the wall. “You realize that visiting hours are over.”

“I won't be a sec,” Maggie improvised. “I . . . uh . . . I left something in my aunt's room.”

“One of the staff would gladly get it for you.”

“No. I'll be quick.”

There was no sign of Joan. Maggie pushed open the glass doors leading into the ward and waited a few moments until the two nurses who were dispensing medicines had disappeared into rooms on either side of the corridor. Then she skittered down the hall and slipped into Pru's room.

Prudence, propped up with pillows, looked at her with glazed eyes. “Who are you?”

“Where's Joan?”

“Where's who?” Pru closed her eyes.

“Psst! Maggie, in here,” Joan whispered from the bathroom.

“What are you doing in there, for God's sake?”

“Williams nearly caught me, and I've been too scared to move.”

“We've got to get out of here now!” Then she too made a dive for the bathroom. “It's the nurse with the medicine cart,” she whispered.

“Suppose they come in here?” Joan whispered back.

“Shh!”

“So how are we feeling?” they heard the nurse say. “I'll get some water and you can take your pill.” She yanked the bathroom door open and stared in amazement at the two women. “What are you doing in there?”

“Getting some water for you,” Maggie said, turning on the tap. And, grabbing hold of Joan, she pulled her out of the bathroom and then out of the room and into the corridor, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey! Stop!”

“That's torn it,” Maggie panted as they ran down the corridor and out through the glass doors. “Now just walk out calmly,” she hissed at Joan. “Thank you,” she called as they sailed by the receptionist. Once outside, they ran to the car and piled in. But looking into her rear-view mirror as they sped down the driveway, Maggie could see the receptionist and several white-garbed people excitedly waving their arms at them.

Maggie parked a few blocks away and turned the engine off. “Okay! What happened?”

“I got into Pru's room without any trouble. She was really groggy, but I'm sure she knew me,” Joan answered. “She seemed to be trying to speak, so I propped her up with several pillows.”

“So did she say anything?” Maggie asked.

“All she said was,
Get me out . . .
Then I heard Williams' voice out in the hall. I'd left the door open a crack, you see.”

“So that's when you hid in the bathroom.”

Joan nodded. “He came in with one of the nurses, and I heard him say that he's made arrangements to have Pru moved to a private sanatorium on Saturday.”

“That's the day after tomorrow!”

“Is there any way we can stop him?”

“Not really. She's his wife.”

“Her parents would be horrified if they knew,” Joan said.

Maggie sat in silence for a few moments. “How well do you know the Ball-Hardings' housekeeper?”

“Mrs. Crawford? I've met her a couple of times, I suppose.”

“Do you think she would be willing to help Pru?”

“I don't see why not,” Joan said.

“Then ask her if she would look after Pru for a few days.”

“But how do we get Pru out of that place?”

“I don't know, but it will have to be tomorrow.”

“They'll recognize us.”

Maggie sat thinking for a moment and then said, “Henny!

That's who we want—Henny.”

“Who is Henny?”

“Our Girl Friday. Now, first things first. You get Mrs. Crawford to agree to take Pru and get her to call the Ball-Hardings.”

“Supposing she won't take Pru?”

“Then we'll think of somewhere else.” Maggie checked her watch. “It's four-fifteen. Show me where Pru's parents live.”

• • •

“SO,” NAT REMARKED
the next morning, after hearing Maggie's report, “Slater's fears are unfounded?”

“I got the distinct feeling that the residents are as happy as they can be,” she answered. “It's not like their own homes, Rosemarie said, but they're comfortable and they have each other. Hugh Wesel made it quite clear what he thought of Elsie Slater's family and didn't seem a bit surprised that she had left money to the nursing home.” She gave a little smile, thinking back to her visit. “Hugh is quite the ladies' man,” she said, “and although he must be in his mid-eighties, I got the impression that he has the staff as well as all the women wrapped around his little finger.”

“Perhaps I should take some lessons from him,” Nat replied.

Maggie shook her head, leaned over the desk and kissed him on the forehead. “You don't need lessons,” she said. It was several minutes before they resumed their conversation.

“Anyway, I've been looking into Slater's affairs,” Nat tapped the file in front of him. “Hugh was right, a substantial estate, including a dozen restaurants, was left to Slater and his sisters.”

“Why would he begrudge his mother leaving a little to Silver Springs?” Maggie asked.

“Just greedy,” Nat answered slowly. “And it will give me great pleasure to inform him that his fears are quite unfounded. And,” he added, “at least you won't have to go back there and dodge Mrs. Truebody again.”

Maggie just grinned.

• • •

JOAN WAS DRIVING
. She had insisted that if they were going to go on this rescue mission to Silver Springs, they should take her grey Plymouth Valiant. “For one thing,” she had said, “your little car is far too small, and,” she added to clinch the matter, “they won't recognize my Valiant.”

“You're clear on what you have to do?” Maggie asked, turning to talk to Henny, who was seated in the back, clutching her enormous handbag.

“Ja. I know.”

“Remember, Pru's room is the last one on the right-hand side.”

“Ja. You told me. Is Mr. Nat meeting us at this hospital place?”

“Uh . . .”

“He knows that I am helping with being a detective, ja?” She began winding her long woollen scarf around her face.

“He'll be very happy if we manage to rescue Mrs. Williams,” Maggie hedged. “What are you doing, Henny?”

“This is my disguise,” Henny said.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Maggie replied nervously. “You've got to look natural, Henny. You know, like a regular visitor.”

“But they see my face . . .”

“Yes,” Maggie answered patiently, “but they don't know you.”

“So what do I say if they ask who I visit?”

“Say you're visiting Mr. Herbert.”

“Who is Mr. Herbert?” Henny asked, puzzled.

“We're here,” Joan said in a tight voice.

“Who is Mr. Herbert?” Henny persisted, as Joan drove through the open wrought-iron gates. “How do I find him?”

“You don't find him, Henny,” Maggie answered with a sigh.

She was beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea to involve her. “It's just an excuse if someone asks who you are visiting.”

Maggie could see Henny mulling this bit of information.

“Back into that parking spot at the end of the building,”

Maggie instructed Joan. “We may need to make a quick getaway. Are you okay with backing?” she added.

“Of course I am,” Joan answered in an aggrieved voice. But it took her three attempts to align the car properly. As she turned off the engine, she turned to Henny. “I'll be waiting for you outside the emergency door.”

“It has a push-bar,” Maggie said, forestalling another question from Henny.

“And you wait in the car.” Henny sat quietly for a moment. “I wish Mr. Nat would be here. He knows better what to do.”

Maggie ignored the comment and said vigorously, “Okay, Henny, let's go! You know what to do.” She hoped fervently that she did.

The two of them watched Henny approach the front door and then, to their horror, turn and give them a wave before rewinding the scarf around her face. “Oh God! She's still carrying that huge bag with her.” It was all Maggie could do not to run after the woman and drag her back. She turned to Joan. “I think you'd better get to the emergency entrance.”

Joan nodded. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

“We may need more than that,” Maggie muttered as she watched Joan disappear around the back of the building.
This is a stupid idea. Supposing Henny gets caught?
She sat thinking of all the terrible things that could happen. But one of the worst was Nat's reaction if he found out what they were doing.

The car park was rapidly filling up. Idly, she watched as a particularly large black car backed into a reserved space near the entrance and a tall, familiar figure climbed out. “Williams! Oh, hell!” Slouching down as far as she could in her seat, she watched him open the back door and take out his briefcase, then head for the entrance. Taking a deep breath, she eased herself slowly upright again. “Oh! Hell!” Williams had appeared again on the top step, but this time he was accompanied by another man, who was talking animatedly as they made their way back to Williams' car. Daring herself not to move, she watched Williams open the trunk and reach inside for a small package, which he handed to the man. All the time the two of them were talking, Williams' gaze swept over Maggie, sitting only fifty feet away, and around the car park. Petrified that Henny, Joan and their burden would arrive at any minute, she willed Williams to go into the building, and at last, after a final handshake, Williams walked the man to his car and then headed back to the entrance of the nursing home.