Page 77 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
“You can’t tell the police what Mum did,” Dylan says. “It’s got nothing to do with Gertie or Rob, but the cops aren’t going to know that, and it makes her look so dodgy.”
“Dylan, this isn’t your choice,” Dad says. “We’ll tell the police the facts, but it’s up to them how to deal with them. I’m raising this now so Bec can be the one to tell them the truth, instead of getting herself into more trouble.”
“That’s so kind of you, Andy,” Bec says with such perfect sarcasm that it’s hard to believe she and Dad really aren’t related.
“I’m sure your mum has nothing to worry about,” Dad says to Dylan, ignoring Bec.
“You’re trusting the police to do the right thing? Sorry, aren’t you a journalist?” Dylan says.
“Once the police have the facts, we can leave it in their hands.” Dad’s got his professionally sympathetic voice on buthas unwisely added a dash ofI’m the grown-up,which is never going to work with Dylan.
Sure enough…
“If you tell them about Mum, I’ll tell them about your sister.”
Who knew Dylan had it in him, right? There’s a pause, while maybe we all try to remember just how many sisters Dad has these days (only one, in case you’ve lost track), and then everyone looks at Aunty Vinka. She gets it right away.
“What do you mean?” Dad asks, although he must get ittoo.
“I’ll tell them about Vinka giving Gertie a drugged cup of tea on the night she was killed.” Dylan has enough self-respect left to look embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says in the general direction of Aunty Vinka but without meeting her eyes.
“Dylan, I don’t know what you thi—”
“Once the police have the facts, we can leave it in their hands.” Dylan’s eyes flick to me and I reward him with a smirk. It’s a good line and he knows it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aunty Vinka says.
“We heard you on the phone with Andy when we were in the car,” Dylan says. “Shippy saw you taking a cup of tea up to Gertie’s room. I guess that’s where the missing meds went.”
Not that anyone cares, but I reached the same conclusion.
There’s a moment of what could be a dramatic silence, and it’s unfortunate, if you like dramatic tension, that someone’s stomach rumbles right at that particular moment. Everyone pretends they didn’t hear it.
“Vinka.” Dad sounds resigned. “Do you want to just tell us all the truth?”
“It’s not what you think. I took Gertie a cup of tea thatnight and I…I put her medication in the tea, but I wasn’t…druggingher or anything like that,” Aunty Vinka says quickly. “The Aztecs actually used to mix their medicine in a tealike drink, you know.”
“Vinx.”
“I thought it would help her sleep, that’s all. I was trying to help. Dad used to do it. My bedroom’s closest to hers, you guys didn’t hear her at night—she was in pain. I didn’t mean to double her dose. She didn’t even notice the taste.” She adds this last bit like it might make everything cool.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Dad asks.
“I gave drugs to a woman who died.”
“I don’t know why I have to keep saying this, but: Gertie didn’t die from a bloody drug overdose.”
“I panicked.”
“You knew,” Shippy says to Dad. “Why didn’tyousay anything?”
Dad looks betrayed, probably because Shippy has actually asked a reasonable question.
“I wasn’t sure what I saw,” Dad says, which is some kind of BS. “But we all know Vinx would never hurt anyone. She doesn’t even eat honey because of the bees.” He looks sideways at her. “Itisthe bees, right?”
“It’s the bees.”
“I’m sure the police will believe you once they have all the facts,” Dylan says, trying to pull us all back to where this started.
