21. THE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS

More information arrives via the pathologist and the German Herman Schmidt sees his half sister in hospital

THE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS

21. To the Grave in the Garden

Doctor Grimm made his slow way up the narrow corridor to Superintendent Partridge’s office. He had been quite sure of things like a particular pair of skeletons until that very morning, and now he was less certain.

His problem had to do with looking at a set of bones that gave every appearance of having been skeletons for a very long time and with little about them to indicate that anything unusual had caused their original demise. But he was nothing if he wasn’t fastidious and he’d called in an expert. A diagnosis regarding the skeleton that had been in the ground had disturbed him. So here he was reporting the findings to the boss at Brumpton police station.

“Well, what’s up with you, doc?” asked the Superintendent, who found Doctor Grimm a little disturbing because he was overweight and rather short, not his type at all, he was convinced of that, but Dotor Grimm seemed to exude an aura that he found, well, none-the-less desirable.

Doctor Grimm, on the other hand, didn’t like the Superintendent at all. He found him officious and much too fond of paperwork.

“The German skeletal remains,” began the doctor, “at first I thought it unlikely that the death would have been caused by nothing more grotesque than natural causes, but I’ve had a fellow who knows everything there is to know about bones take a close peek, and after a detailed examination he’s quite sure the man was murdered. He showed me the evidence, and it supports his theory. There’s a trace, hard to spot unless you know it’s there, showing where a bullet passed though him. In one side and out the other, only soft tissue, which, of course, vanished years ago, involved, until you take a really close look at a couple of ribs that had tell-tale nicks on them. Yes, the fellow was shot all right. The damage hadn’t started to repair itself, so it must have been at or around the time of death.”

“Oh,” groaned the Superintendent, “and you’re quite sure of this? It couldn’t have been some accident that didn’t kill the poor sod but happened maybe a week or month before he passed away?”

“Not likely. The trajectory will have involved very close proximity to his heart. No, he was shot all right. All of which has got me looking again at the old bird in the bed, and I’m going to report back to you if I find anything that I shouldn’t find if she passed away peacefully in her sleep.”

“So you’re saying it could be a double murder after all?”

“You’re the detective. You tell me.”

“Harrumph,” grunted the Superintendent, “I’m quite looking forwards to passing this snippet on to Greengage. He’s convinced the old woman’s guilty and this might make his heart beat all the faster!”

“It doesn’t prove who killed the fellow, just that somebody did,” reminded doctor Grimm, “and if you ask me the bones have been in the ground an awfully long time. Measurable in decades.”

“Okay,” sighed Partridge, “I’ll pass it on as gospel.”

T he doctor bade his goodbyes and made his way out of the office.

“I wonder what he’d look like in rugby shorts?” the Superintendent asked himself.

Meanwhile, Constable Ruby arrived in her car with the German Herman Schmidt at Brumpton Hospital because the man had suggested they check up on the woman he was already beginning to look on as his half sister despite before he registered into the hotel that had been booked for him.

The hospital was quiet. The worst of the Covid epidemic had melted away and a weary staff was returning to normal, so when they appeared at the reception desk the nurse that saw to them smiled as she told them where Winifred was.

“They’ve put her in a side ward on her own,” she said, “on account of her obvious confusion and the noise she might make if she wakes up in a strange bed. She only had a bad cut that needed several stitches, but there was no way we could let her leave on her own because we thought she might get lost and end up wandering into the River Grentle.”

“that was very thoughtful of you,” smiled Felicia, “this is her brother from Germany and we hope she will be happy to see him.”

The nurse smiled encouragingly as they made their way towards the corridor she had indicated.

It wasn’t far to the small side ward, and when they went into it the confused Winifred was sitting up in a bed that looked far too clean when seen against the years of wear and general neglect of her own body.

“I never done it,” she said when she saw them, “I know I never done it. Daddy was all right when I helped him to bed. Away from the Nazis, that’s where he went, away from the Nazis. We all went away from the Nazis.”

“Winifred, do you know who this man is?” asked Felicia, smiling encouragingly.

“Hitler, the swine?” mumbled the old woman, “all his life daddy feared meeting him and being toasted in an oven by him! He told me, he did, when I was little, baby Winnie, that’s what he called me, baby Winnie, keep the Nazi hoards away from me.. Promise me that, and I will love you forever… And he did love me forever. Daddy was a man. I know he was a man. And you are a man, can you love me forever?”

She stared at Herman, and smiled at him. “You have daddy’s eyes,” she said, “when he snuggled up to me and told me to watch out for the evil Nazis from over the mighty seas… That's what he said. Mighty seas… and he said he loved me, but he loved Ma more…”

“Ma?” asked Felicia.

“He loved Ma too, and that was wrong!”

“I don’t understand,” murmured Herman, “who loved who?”

“And his voice! You have his voice! The gently hum of words that ask questions in the night! Where am I? Why am I here? Is this a gas chamber?”

“No, my dear. That is all a long time ago and the men who did it have long been gone,” Herman tried to explain, “but look at me, Winnie, for I am your brother, flesh of your father’s flesh, and I have come from across the seas to meet you for the very first time.”

“I didn’t mean it,” sighed Winifred, “but when I saw daddy with ma, in the same bed, rocking and rolling, that’s whay they called it, and I knew where his gun was. He had a gun so that he might shoot the foul Germans from over the Mighty seas. It was always there by his side, day and night. In case, he said, in case they came in their jack boots and cursing like they always did, bad words from bad men…”

“I think we should go,” whispered Felicia, “she’s getting increasingly agitated.”

But Herman shook his head.

“Just a moment, Officer.” he whispered, “I’m your brother, Winnie,” “your daddy was my daddy… we are of the same flesh. I am here to help you. I will always help you.”

Then he turned to Felicia Ruby, “we must return and take her to her home,” he told her, “but first I will settle in the hotel. I know one thing though: in my mind tyhere is no doubt that this lady is my sister, but her mind is ranging far and wide. I must help her. Must help to mend her.”

“If you can do that much it would be a very kind thing,” replied Felicia, “but I am troubled by some of the things she has said and what they might mean… come on, sir, I will take you to your hotel and from there I must have a word with my Superintendent.”

“If you wait for me I would like to come with you,” he replied, “I think I understand what troubles you, fot it troubles me as well.”

“We will leave you for a while, and return for you, Winifred,” Constable Felicia said to the patient in the bed, “we will take you to your cottage in the woods.”

“Home,” sighed the old woman, “home to the grave in the garden…”

© Peter Rogerson 12.02.23

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