A Brush with Death: A Penny Brannigan Mystery - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,75
what do you want with that old cow? I know you’re not a relative because you’ve never been here before, and you’re not a friend because she hasn’t got any. So what do you want with her?”
He stiffened slightly. “Not a cop, are you?” Then he answered his own question. “No, you don’t have the look of the police about you.”
Penny thought for a moment. She had been tempted to tell him that the reason for her visit was none of his business, but remembering the endless boredom and isolation that many seniors in nursing homes experience, she quickly reeled that thought back and decided to humour him. And something about his cheeky smile and earnestness appealed to her.
“Know a lot about the police, then, do you?”
“Used to.”
Penny nodded, grinned, and pointed to an empty chair across the room in front of large windows that overlooked a well-kept garden.
“Could we sit over there and have a little chat? Would you like a push?”
She walked across the room pushing the wheelchair and then parked it so her new friend was turned slightly toward her but was still facing the room. Then she sat down, placed the carnations across her lap, and turned to him.
“I’m Penny Brannigan. I live in Llanelen. It’s a very long story, but I think Millicent might know something about a hit-and-run accident that happened a very long time ago. I want to talk to her about it. You seem to know her. Would you tell me about her?”
“Nice to meet you, Penny. I’m Jimmy.” He held out a cool, dry hand for her to shake. She could almost feel the bones inside it, but his grip was strong and firm.
“Actually,” said Penny, “I don’t even know what she looks like. Is she here?”
The two surveyed the room. Elderly people, some wearing bibs, sat in chairs or wheelchairs, most gazing vacantly into space. A wall-mounted television set was tuned to an all-news channel, but no one took any notice. Personal-care aides in pastel-coloured uniforms flitted about hauling someone up straight in a chair here and patting a shoulder there. Occasionally someone shouted out, startling the others.
“Depressing, isn’t it?” asked Jimmy. “And don’t think it won’t happen to you. So enjoy the time you’ve got left before it does.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost two years, for my sins. My legs don’t work as well as they used to, but the rest of me, including the important bits, works just fine, in case you’d like to know.”
Penny laughed. “Too much information, thanks just the same, Jimmy.”
He placed his hands on his knees and gave her a sly look, then gestured with his head across the room.
“That’s her over there by the television. In the pink blouse.”
Penny followed his gaze. Millicent Mayhew sat slightly to one side of the television, looking out the window, showing her profile.
She had a large pile of false grey curls on top of her head, with upswept hair beneath them. As Penny watched, Millicent raised a hand and patted the back of her head, gently pushing the hair upward. She turned her head slowly and, seeing Penny, narrowed her eyes and gave her a belligerent scowl. Penny felt a shiver run down her spine. If you were having a nightmare about Joan Crawford, she thought, this would be the look of pure evil that would leave you paralyzed with fear.
Penny turned back to Jimmy. “I see what you mean. Tell me about her.”
He cleared his throat. “Nobody likes her. Nobody trusts her. She cheats at cards. They only let her play bridge with them because she’s good at it, and there aren’t that many bridge players around who still have it up here.” He tapped his temple. “If you know what I mean.” Penny nodded.
“She keeps to herself. Doesn’t allow anyone in her room. What’s she got in there that’s so valuable? Even I’ve never been inside her room, and a locked door never stopped me before.”
Penny raised her eyebrows.
“Yeah, back in the day I did a little breaking and entering, among other things.”
“Oh, so that’s how you know the police.”
“It’s how the police know me, more like.”
He leaned closer to Penny. “I don’t think you’ll get very far talking to her. She won’t care what you think or what you suspect. Why should she?” He tapped Penny on the arm. “I think your time would be better spent having a look around that precious room of hers.”