Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m not after sympathy. My wife died unexpectedly two days ago. We had planned to go on a seven week luxury cruise around the Pacific Islands. There she was starting to pack our things for the experience of a lifetime and the next thing she was dead.
This is starting to sound like I’m more shocked with missing out on the cruise than I am about my wife’s sudden departure. We had been married for fifteen years. There were no children; that was from choice and not from the vagaries of Nature. So we were quite free to go on a seven week cruise without too much responsibility for what was left behind at home.
We were both in the bedroom when it happened. The luggage lay open on the bed. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe like she was being strangled. She was flaying her arms about and making a horrible screeching noise. And the next thing she was on the floor dead.
I honestly didn’t know what to do next. In events such as this one plays things by ear. I didn’t call for an ambulance. Instead I took the luggage off the bed, picked her up, and lay her down. I know when a corpse can’t be resuscitated.
The problem now is how to get rid of the body before Betsy-Sabrina and I leave to go on a seven week luxury cruise around the Pacific Islands.
The preferred method of murder was strangulation. That’s why the murderer was known as the Sunny Nook Strangler – because not only was strangulation the method used by the lunatic, but the victims had all been residents of the Sunny Nook Rest Home. Of course, none of the deaths had occurred at the rest home itself. But the fact that all victims lived at the same address was a relevant observation made by the police. Mrs Connie Fergus, a resident, tried to rally the mood of the other residents by organizing afternoon teas in the community lounge.
“Things are always easier when we support one another,” she said. And indeed that is true.
No one knew exactly what the instrument was that those murdered were strangled with. The wound on the neck wasn’t violent enough to be a rough rope. It was perhaps something softer, such as a bed sheet or even a table cloth.
There was only one witness and she was of little help. Old Mrs Annie McKeefry had escaped the clutches of the Sunny Nook Strangler. She simply had been strolling down to the shops one sunshine afternoon and the next thing she was in the grips of the murderer. She felt something around her neck pull tight. That was when someone appeared on the scene and the murderer took off at the rate of knots. Unfortunately Mrs McKeefry had nothing to report other than she was attacked.
It was now getting on for two weeks since the last strangulation. People started to feel almost a relief. Mrs Connie Fergus organized what she hoped would be the last morale-boosting afternoon tea in the home’s community lounge.
“It’s to celebrate the possible end of the Sunny Nook Strangler,” said Mrs Connie Fergus. It was then that Mrs McKeefry noticed something that jolted her memory; Mrs Fergus was wearing a long, beautiful silk scarf.