Read Online The Corpse With the Golden Nose by Cathy Ace - Free Book Online Page A

coroner’s report, the will, and at least a copy of your sister’s suicide note?”
    The words hung heavily in the air. The clock on the wall tocked away five seconds. I counted. I wondered if Ellen had counted too, because she spoke exactly on the sixth beat.
    â€œI have all that at home, not with me. I remember her note word for word. Do you want me to recite it?”
    She sounded like a little girl offering to run through Wordsworth’s “Daffodils” for her parents or teachers.
    Both Bud and I nodded. It would be useful to know what it had said, even if we couldn’t immediately see how it had been written. Ellen cleared her throat and began. “It said, ‘Ellen, It’s no use, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on. It just won’t work. I can’t do my job any more. And if I can’t do my job perfectly, then there’s no point to any of it. I’m sorry. I know you’ll miss me. But that’s it. I’m done. Love, always, Annette.’ And then were three x’s. You know, kisses. That’s it.” She looked at both Bud and myself as if seeking our approval.
    â€œGood job, Ellen,” Bud said, “that can’t have been easy for you. Those words must hurt.” She nodded. “Are you sure it was Annette’s handwriting?” he asked, as gently as he could.
    â€œOh no, she didn’t write it, Annette never wrote anything . . . her handwriting had always been dreadful, so she always typed everything.” Ellen seemed surprised that Bud would have asked.
    â€œBut she signed it, at least?” Bud added.
    â€œOh yes, she’d signed it,” replied Ellen calmly. “Of course she signed it.”
    Bud and I exchanged a glance.
    I couldn’t help myself—I jumped in. “So are you sure it was Annette’s signature?” I asked.
    â€œWell I was . . . and then I wasn’t,” was Ellen’s less than illuminating response.
    â€œSo you mean . . . ?” I didn’t dare continue.
    â€œOh . . . right . . . yes.” Ellen seemed to sense my confusion. “At first I thought it was Annette’s signature, but then I realized a while later that of course it couldn’t have been, because there’s no way she’d have killed herself, so there’s no reason why she’d have signed a suicide note. So it can’t be Annette’s signature, you see.” Any minute now I’d be rushing outside for a cigarette—however much it might annoy Bud. There’s only so much that nicotine gum can help you handle.
    â€œSo it looked like her signature, but you’re now sure it wasn’t?” I quizzed.
    â€œYes. No. It can’t be.” Ellen seemed to be done.
    I was beginning to lose the will to live.
    â€œOkay, so, one more thing then,” added Bud, “could you dig out an example of your sister’s signature that you know is definitely hers? Then we can compare them all.” Ellen nodded.
    I managed to give Bud a quick kick. Luckily, he worked out what it meant.
    â€œWe do have a few more questions, but I promised Cait she could talk to you about them. You don’t mind, do you?”
    Ellen now seemed quite relaxed with the idea that I would have an involvement in the case too, so I dove right in. Smiling.
    â€œYour notes say that Raj Pinder, who is now the vintner at your winery, used to be the vintner at SoulVine Wines, right?” Ellen nodded. “Raj now owns half your vineyard—that Annette willed her half of the business to him—and that you’re pleased that she did that, is that right?” Again, Ellen nodded. “So, did you know about Annette’s intentions before she died? Had you discussed that with her at all?”
    Ellen smiled, “Oh silly me,” she began. “I guess I didn’t put that in the notes. I’m sorry, it’s