Page 81 of The Other Side

“How did she die?” That was someone else.

Oh God. “I’m not able to say. Sorry.”

Most of the questions were about Matthew or Sonita but when refreshments arrived, cake, coffee and tea, they shut up. Drum was halfway through a cup of tea when a young woman went up to Tricia and said something that made Tricia turn white. Uh oh. Tricia sidled over to Drum and whispered, “Would you come and check something for me?”

Drum put down his cup and followed her out of the room.

“This is Billie Lennard,” Tricia said. “I sent Billie to find out where Joan was. She always comes to things like this because she always has something to say.”

Drum followed them out of the building and around the corner to the fourth door along, which had been left ajar. Pale-faced Billie looked to be hardly out of her teens and she stifled a sob, Tricia took her hand. Drum feared the worst. But if a resident had died, why did he have to be involved?

“Is she dead?” he whispered.

Billie nodded. “Looks wrong.”

“In what way?”

“The way she’s lying and her teeth are in.”

When Tricia reached for the door handle, Drum tugged her back. “You two stay here. Don’t touch the door. Don’t let anyone in.”

He took off his shoes and pushed the door further open with his elbow. There was no one in the sitting room and he walked through to the bedroom. Joan lay in the bed, mouth open, her arms down by her sides just as he’d found Sonita. His heart thumped.

Drum stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness. The curtains were drawn, muting the morning light. Joan looked as though she was sleeping. This time there was no crooked pillow, no stray slippers and the bedside table was straight. But there was a piece cut out of her very straight hair. Oh fuck. He let his gaze travel slowly around the room. A mug sat on the bedside cabinet. Empty. Reading glasses rested on a paperback. A cardigan had been folded neatly over the chair.

He leaned forward just enough to see her face closely without touching the bed or her. Her lips had a faint bluish tinge. Her teeth were…in. Drum knew nothing about false teeth but he guessed Billie was saying she wouldn’t sleep with them in. Drum really wanted to lift an eyelid. She could have died in her sleep before she took her teeth out, but who slept like that? Flat on their back with their arms neatly by their sides? And then there was the hair. Oh fuck it. He lifted an eyelid. When he saw the petechial haemorrhages, his heart sank. He put the one finger against her arm. She was cold. So she’d been dead a while.

Drum checked the window. Locked from the inside. The only way in and out was the door he’d come through. He went back to where the two women were waiting.

“Is…is she dead?” Tricia asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

Drum kept his voice calm. “Did you move her, Billie?”

She shook her head. “No. She didn’t answer when I tried the intercom. She’d not pulled her emergency cord but she talked about this meeting yesterday. I know she wanted to come.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“This door but nothing else. As soon as I saw her, I knew she was dead.”

“Nobody else comes in here. Nobody,” Drum said.

Tricia nodded. “I’ll ring for an ambulance.”

“And the police,” Drum said. It was too late for an ambulance, but maybe better that the residents thought she was unwell rather than dead.

Tricia stared at him. “The police?”

“I’m treating this as an unexplained death.”

Billie exhaled as if she’d been waiting for him to say that.

“But Joan was eighty-three,” Tricia said.

“What was her health like?”