Part Nine: In Which A Witch Wishes That She'd Watched Out...

DUSTY ACRES

By Paul Chandler

(Tom Crittenden is away this week so there are bound to be spelling mistakes - but he'll proof-reading the version that goes into the book! :) )

Nine: In Which A Witch Wishes That She’d Watched Out…

“I don’t know what it is that makes me love you so! / I only know I never want to let you go! / ‘Cos you’ve started something… / Oh, can’t you see? / That ever since we met - / You’ve had a hold on me… / It happens to be true… / I only want to be with you…”

From: "I Only Want To Be With You…" (Ivor Raymonde / Mike Hawker); Dusty Springfield, A Girl Called Dusty, 1964.

Meanwhile, back in the canteen, Tula and Simon were slowly beginning to make some headway with their investigation into the missing condiments and the solution had been presented via a trail of sticky tomato ketchup which led across the canteen towards a store cupboard that was half concealed by a display board advertising HOW TO EAT JUNK FOOD HEALTHILY.

“There must have been a hole in one of the sachets…” Edie had pointed out and then when they’d found that the trail led to the store cupboard the lady had added. “Why Mavis! I never even knew that cupboard was there…”

It appeared neither did Mavis, but she had suggested that she’d go check for a key, until Tula had tried the lock and found that there was no need. “It’s open!” she announced.

“I rather think that it’s more likely that the lock’s been broken…” Simon suggested as Tula began to force the door open a crack. “Someone forced their way in there by the look of it…”

On second thoughts Tula nodded in agreement, creaking the door open fully to take a proper look inside. “We won’t need a key, Mavis – but we could probably do with a torch, if you have one, please…”

“Not a problem, dear!!” replied Mavis and nodded to Edie to go and fetch the aforementioned device.

“Someone’s been in here recently…” Tula muttered, as Simon stepped away from the opening – slightly fearful that he might get stuck in the doorway if he tried to peer any closer inside. “I can smell the slightly stale scent of cheap hospital shampoo…” he explained, wrinkling up his nose distastefully.

Tula was about to say something when Edie came hurrying back with the torch. “Well done, girl…” Mavis beamed, chivvying her on for her stirling and swift work.

“Thanks Edie…” Tula added gratefully, switching on the torch and peering inside. “Oh goodness…” she gasped all of a sudden. “Well, this is where your condiments went…” she concluded. “But I’m not sure you’re going to be able to salvage any of them!”

“What, on earth do you mean, dear lady…” Simon exclaimed.

“Well, come and have a look…” Tula suggested, beckoning them all over and so Edie, Mavis and a rather reluctant looking Simon crowded around the open door as Tula shone the torchlight into the shadows of the previously hidden cupboard.

“Oh my! What a waste!” Edie exclaimed.

“It’s positively sinister…” remarked Simon.

“It’s inexplicable…” Mavis added. “Except it probably isn’t – it’s just we don’t know the reason yet…”

Inside the cupboard the walls were smeared an inch thick with slowly congealing tomato sauce and then sprinkled with the contents of the salt and pepper sachets. Plastic knives and forks had been stabbed into the stone walls, snapped and discarded, but the perpetrator was now long gone.

“They’ll be some method to this madness…” agreed Tula, wishing she had just the first clue as to what that reason might be. “But whoever did it has slipped away – it may still be worth getting the police in to check on fingerprints… I mean, this could be the work of one of your patients; a closet psychopath…”

Mavis nodded. It wasn’t perhaps as mad a suggestion as it might have first seemed. “It’s certainly not the action of a normal individual…” she agreed.

Just as Edie was about to add her own words of wisdom, suddenly the air was filled by the sound of a high-pitched siren.

“What on earth is that!?” bellowed Simon crossly, clamping his paws over his ears. “Is the whole place on fire or something!?”

Suddenly the alarm stopped, Tula gave out a breath of relief, but Mavis was still looking concerned. “That…” she explained. “”Wasn’t a fire alarm – it was an alarm to announce that one of the patients has gone missing…”

**

She was sure exactly why, but as soon as Sister Hickliffe heard the missing patients siren, she had a nasty suspicion that it might be Raymond Snood who had gone on A.W.O.L.

Virginia knew that Ray found his condition very draining; who wouldn’t – it was bad enough to be considered dull – let along to have a condition that declared you dull AND looked likely to kill you, to boot.

But Virginia Hickliffe really couldn’t see it, she simply didn’t find Raymond Snood dull in the slightest…

Unless, perhaps – dare she admit it to herself – she too was dull.

Maybe she was, just a little bit. After all she liked knitting and enjoyed nothing better than dead heading the few plants that grew in her garden – just pottering around antique shops on a Sunday afternoon. That perhaps, and the occasional tea and scones in an exquisite tea shops, an occasional trip to the cinema to see the new Woody Allen film or an old Audrey Hepburn film or two – a long weekend to Paris on the Eurostar with school day chums. Afternoon walks. Long pub lunches. Sudoko.

Yes, if that constituted being dull then she – Sister Virginia Hickliffe was gloriously – resolutely – PROUDLY dull.

She’d noticed definite improvement in Raymond’s condition in the last 24 hours. He looked perkier – happier – he was rallying against his condition and doing so successfully.

She did hope that he hadn’t done something stupid – hurrying down the corridors towards his room.

…And when she got there…

“THANK GOODNESS!!”

There he was, still tucked up in his bed…

“Thank goodness it wasn’t you, Raymond…” she beamed to herself. The siren had stopped now, but she decided she would still use it as an excuse to pop into his room and to say a quick “hello!”

“Hello!!!” she duly trilled as she came hurrying in through the door. “Just coming to see how you’re doing…” she chattered, checking his room was well ventilated, rearranging the flowers in the vase by his bed, flipping up his progress chart, but never once actually making eye contact with Raymond. “Just wanted to let you know that the siren you may have heard is nothing to be worried about – it wasn’t a fire alarm – one of the patients appears to have gone missing – but we’re not sure who, as yet…”

“That’s annoying!” smiled Raymond, doing his best to smile, but Virginia noticed that he was looking pale and unhealthy again and her heart leapt out to him.

“Ah well, yes – it is a bit…” she agreed, blushing. “Anyway – I really have to make a move… Must go and try and track down our runaway…”

It had suddenly occurred to her that maybe it was the amphibian man who had shed his scales and become a woman, who was missing – especially after what she had witnessed in the corridor earlier between the yeti and the witch with those sorts of people as friends, no wonder he wanted to jump ship.

She decided she’d have to go and check; not that she really wanted to leave Raymond.

…And then he said it. “Do you really have to go, Sister?”

Her heart suddenly felt like it had melted. It wasn’t much, just a small hint of endearment – of dependence or requirement of her company – but it was enough and it meant so much to her.

Little did she realise that his only real motive was murder.

“Kill her and you’ll be cured…” he convinced himself. “Kill her and you’ll be dull no more…”

As the Sister had been walking around the room arranging things he’d been wondering what item of the room’s furniture he could use to finish her off.

The bed pan? The vase of flowers? Maybe her stethoscope or a particularly sharp GET WELL SOON card. (He was sure that papercuts would kill eventually!) The best solution was probably to use the trouser press on the wall – although he wasn’t sure it was hot enough or she slim enough for this to be a reality!

Outside in the corridor there was still a bit of a commotion and the siren went off for a second time…

“You should go…” said Raymond.

“I should go…” said Sister Virginia as exactly the same time, but for quite different reasons they had come to the same response.

Raymond knew that he needed a different approach. Killing Sister Hickliffe in his own room was just stupid – it might cure him of his illness, but it would also see him incarcerated in jail for the rest of his life. He knew that he had to wait and then maybe follow her until the opportunity arose – then get back to his room as quickly as possible. Afterall – killing her in his room was a stupid thing to do – he didn’t want to actually get caught for the murder. What was the point in being cured of Terminal Dullness if you spent the rest of your days in prison.

No… He had to be careful… Clever and not be found out…

“Yes… Yes… I really MUST go!” Virginia was saying, but added. “I’ll return when it’s quieter and then we can continue our nice chat…”

“Sure…” agreed Raymond, trying to look as grateful as possible. “Thank you so much…”

“My pleasure!!” beamed Sister, gave a wave and then was on her way.

As soon as the door banged shut Raymond was on his feet and out the door and after her. Everyone was rushing about out in the corridors that no-one stopped him. He was carrying a newspaper and on the couple of occasions that Sister Hickliffe turned back to briefly chat to passing colleague he simply raised the paper to cover his face.

It didn’t take them long to reach her destination, but much to his dismay there were a number of orderlies outside the Ward B room.

“We’ve worked out who’s gone missing…” he heard one of the orderlies explain. “It’s that Mr Horner – or is it Mrs Horner!? You know – the amphibian patient that we had on this floor…”

Sister nodded gravely. “I thought as much – okay…”

There were too many people coming his way, so Raymond made a quick decision and dashed into the nearest broom cupboard to hide.

Actually, it turned out to be slightly bigger than a broom cupboard. It was more like a caretaker’s store – but not one that had been used in a while. There was a mirror and a kettle – but both were covered in a thick layer of dust.

It was then he suddenly realised that he had come unprepared. He had no weapons with him – only pockets full of ketchup and plastic cutlery. “I’ll make do…” he sighed.

Now he just had to wait for his moment…

**

Meanwhile, back in Dr Fish’s concealed photographic dark room – the two lovers lay back in each other’s arms and they both seemed to have developed wide, wide grins on their faces.

“I can’t believe how right this feels…” whispered Dr Fish, coming on all Mills & Boon in the midst of his haze of bliss.

“It was pretty – rather – well, yes – kind of interesting and nice…” admitted Horner, not completely sure of what he’d just experienced, but not wanting to offend the doctor, who was obviously so smitten and being as he was also a bit of a first class stalker, Horner didn’t want to offend him for fear that he might go off the handle.

The most worrying; he realised – as he analysed what he and the good doctor had just gone through, was that – HE’D ACTUALLY ENJOYED EVERY MINUTE OF THEIR TIME TOGETHER!!!!

Not that he’d had a great deal of time to really think too much about the whole matter for the alarms kept going off…

“That’s a really irritating sound…” sighed Horner. “Are we on fire?”

Dr Fish sniggered. “WE might be… I think we really must be after all the evidence I just saw – but if you mean is the hospital on fire, then no – that’s just the alarm that announces that a patient has gone missing – and in this case I imagine that the person might well be you…”

“Oh really!” Horner raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Am I now officially a runaway! But I’m fine… I was expecting to be discharged in the very near future…”

“Discharged…” grinned Dr Fish, but then looked a little more somber. “I’m afraid not many people ever get to be discharged from this hospital…” he admitted. “Most people just seem to stay here for good…”

Horner frowned, not really taking in the full spookiness of this statement. “Well, I shan’t be… I’m feeling fit and well again – thank you very much…”

“Well, you’re stamina is certainly holding up…” Dr Fish beamed and snuggled closer. “I’m a doctor – so that’s official – I know it as a fact!!”

“Ah good… So what are we going to do about this alarm, then?” Horner queried.

“I say – let it rung – and whilst it does maybe you might like to submit to a full examination – just to make sure there isn’t any undetected illness that we’ve not yet traced…”

Horner grinned widely. “You know what!?” he replied. “I think I really would like that very much…”

**

Meanwhile, back in Horner’s room, Katrina peered through the curtains from out on the balcony, where once the mysterious photographer had stood. She was wondering if all the people that had been crowding around Horner’s room had perhaps finally gone, by now. At least, everything had gone quiet again. She’d gone to try and speak with Horner, to try and apologise in quite an untypical way, for all that occurred over the last 24 hours – only to find that he was not in his room. He hadn’t been discharged because all his stuff was still there.

She’d checked under the bed and in the wardrobe, even down the plughole, but there had been no sign of her ex-husband and it was then the siren had started going and Katrina had suddenly been concerned that she’d be blamed for his disappearance.

But now, after all that cuffuffle the room did seem to have fallen quiet – and so it was time to be getting out of there…

Katrina’s plan went well, to start with; she got all her way out of the room and down towards the lifts when she heard the familiar voice of the Sister who had spoken to her earlier.

“Well Sir, I really don’t think there’s any need to call the police…”

At the mention of the police, Katrina rather panicked and opened the door of a cupboard she was standing next to in an attempt to conceal herself before the Sister rounded the corner and saw her there. Inside the store cupboard it was pitch black except for the dim glow from what appeared to be a candle burning in the corner. As she waited for the Sister and her companion to pass she heard a movement behind her and suddenly became aware that she was not alone.

As she turned, a man stumbled out of the shadows – he was wearing a paper shopping bag over his head with eyeholes torn out of it and he carried a plastic fork.

“What are you doing? Who are you?” But there came no reply. “Excuse me… But…”

The first blow from the plastic fork did nothing, but the second attempt not only snapped it but sent the jabby part deep into her chest. Katrina tried to scream out, but ended wrestling with the figure who had attacked her – she tried to grab and tear the mask – but already he had chosen two new weapons – another plastic knife and a plastic spook. She tried to cast a spell, muttering an ancient hex as the bludgeoning attack continued. Katrina lashed out with her long witchy nails; but it did no good – he was using tooth picks as well now and was attempting to pierce her ears with them or something. Both of them seemed to be covered in a mixture of her blood and, rather bizarrely, tomato ketchup.

“NOW WHO’S THE BORING ONE!!” he cried loudly, but no-one seemed to hear them struggling in the cupboard, for nobody came to help. “YOU HELP ME LIVE!!” he cried jubilantly. “YOU MAKE ME LIVE!!!”

Katrina kept muttering her hex – but as she passed out for what might very well be the last time she thought to herself that she had never imagined she would meet her death there that day in a hospital store cupboard; after more than 200 years of life – finally death had come to her via plastic cutlery!!

The last word she heard from her attacker was she slipped away – as he stopped manically laughing for a moment and stepped away from her corpse to admire his handywork; was a single solitary utterance.

“Sorry…” said her killer and began to cry somewhat insincerely.

…And with that Katrina died…

What will become of Raymond Snood now? Will having killed Katrina Hortensia be enough to cure his illness? Will Sister Hickliffe be safe? Will ANYONE be safe or might Tula and Simon Yeti somehow trace the soon to be legendary Condiment Killer and what will Horner feel when he learns that he was busy making whoopee when his ex-wife was murdered…

Find out the answer to this and many other crucial questions in the next unharmonious, toe-tapping episode of Dusty Acres – the notorious tomato ketchup smeared saga of death…

Mood music for this episode: "I Only Want To Be With You…" ; Dusty Springfield, 1964.