The Death of Mr Lively (Detective Fiction)

There was a knock at the open door of Doctor Merchantson’s office and, looking up, the Doctor saw a man he recognised as Inspector Kelly of Scotland Yard.

 

“I’m very busy right now inspector”, sighed the Doctor, his gaze returning to the medical case notes upon his desk, “But if it’s about the murder of my wife then, as I’ve already told you at least three dozen times, I was working at the surgery all day and the receptionist Mrs Marburton is a witness to that fact, as are several of my patients and two of the other doctors here”.

 

“It’s not about your wife, sir”, said the detective, “Actually, it’s about a man named Edward Lively. An old patient of yours, I believe”.

 

“Edward Lively?”, asked Merchantson, looking up; a bewildered, almost frightened expression upon his face, “Yes he was my patient but he died a few years ago. Died of an acute cardiac arrest if I remember correctly. Why do you want to know about him?”.

 

“You signed his death certificate, didn’t you sir, declaring him legally dead?”, asked the detective.

 

“Yes”, said the doctor, his tone becoming angrier, “As I’ve just told you he died of a heart attack. I was called to his house by his wife; I examined his body and I filled out a death certificate; standard procedure and he had had a long history of heart problems so it was only to be expected”.

 

“Well then”, said the Detective, “Perhaps you can explain why the body of a man who has been identified, by two people, as Edward Lively and whose fingerprints match those on police record as belonging to Edward Lively was recently discovered hanged in the woods near to the house of his family. If he was already dead then how is that possible?”.

 

The doctors face at first filled with shock but then pulled itself back into an expression of calmness  ,

 

“Well it’s simply a mix up surely”, he said, “Fingerprints aren’t fool proof and anyway…who identified the body… not his wife, surely. She was there with me when I wrote the death certificate”.

 

“No”, replied the detective, “Not his wife. She claims that the body isn’t that of her husband”.

 

“Well then..”, said the Doctor dismissively.

 

“But both Mr Lively’s brother and sister have been shown the body and are certain that it is their brother. Apparently, after your death certificate was issued, Mrs Lively held a private funeral which they were not allowed to attend and so they were more than happy to help”, continued the inspector, “Furthermore we have one more very compelling piece of evidence which leads us to believe that the body really is that of Edward Lively; a suicide note that was found in the pocket of the hanged body, the hand writing upon which has been verified by a handwriting  expert and it is signed with the name Edward Lively”.

 

The doctor clutched his forehead, his eyes moving back and forth as if frantically weighing up what the inspector was saying,

 

“Well, certainly, I admit that all of that would lead most people to think that the body you’ve found was that of Edward Lively but I know and I am certain of the fact that the person I examined and issued a death certificate for was the real Edward Lively and…how do you explain his own wife..who surely should know him better than anyone…saying that the body isn’t his”.

 

“I have a theory about that; one that is also very compelling”, said the inspector, “You see, Edward Lively had a life insurance policy that his wife claimed after he was declared dead. If it could be proven that Edward Lively had not been dead when that insurance policy was paid out then his wife would be guilty of insurance fraud”.

 

The doctor started to become defensive,

 

“Well, you’re not suggesting that I helped perpetrate that fraud are you?”, said the Doctor angrily, “I…I mean… why would I do such a thing? I have a high paying job…a very comfortable and happy life. Why would I want to jeopardize those things?”.

 

“Not for the money, certainly”, replied the inspector, “But perhaps there was something you wanted from Edward Lively… a favour in return… something that only a man who’d been declared legally dead could do without suspicion…like commit murder”.

 

The doctor rose from his chair, his face now flaring up into a look of rage;

 

“Now look here”, he said, holding a trembling finger pointed aggressively towards the detective, “You’re making a very big accusation based on…from what I can see is… virtually no evidence at all, inspector and I am going to be telling all this to my lawyer”.

 

Inspector Kelly shook his head,

 

“No sir”, he said, “I have very good reason to suspect you and to arrest you on suspicion of being involved in your wife’s murder”.

 

Reaching into his pocket, the detective pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it,

 

“This is only a written copy of the suicide note, you understand, found in the pocket of the hanged man”, said Kelly, “The real one is at Scotland Yard but the words written on the note are very clear, “I cannot live with what I have done. I killed Mrs Merchantson but I am not the only one to blame. Her husband, the Doctor shares my guilt because he planned it all”.

 

Doctor Merchantson’s arm went limp and he sank back down into his chair, now visibly distraught.

 

“Perhaps now WOULD be a good time to contact your lawyer”, said the inspector.