Karin Slaughter - Like A Charm

'… and it's very heavy, is it gold?'

Frogton laughed, and said he doubted it was of great value. He was still beaming, but by now glancing at his watch, anxious to leave.

Hilda passed the bracelet back to Carol; she wanted to snatch it, never let it go, but she managed to keep control of her emotions. The bracelet, the little goblin, were to her a declaration of his love. No one else had been given such a special, thoughtful and expensive gift.

Mr Frogton then bade everyone a happy Christmas and said he would have to go as he still had some last-minute shopping to do. Carol hurried to fetch his coat, holding it out for him.

'Are you spending Christmas here or going off somewhere special?' he asked.

'Yes,' she said and added, 'to my family, my mother is very elderly.'

'Well, have a wonderful time.'

He kissed her cheek and then bade everyone goodnight.

Carol was almost the last to leave. Hilda was putting on her coat, then picking up bulging grocery bags to take home, ready to prepare Christmas dinner.

'You're welcome to come and spend Christmas day with us, Carol,' she said.

'That's nice of you, Hilda but I've got family commitments, and I'm on the emergency callouts and Mr Frogton's bound to need me to help as he's working over the holiday.'

'All right then, you have a wonderful time. He must certainly think a lot of you; that was a really lovely present.'

Carol continued collecting all the Christmas wrapping paper and putting it into a black rubbish bag, but not her own paper from her present; that she would keep always. The cages were all empty and the surgery was silent as she turned off the lights, almost ready to go home.

'I'm off then,' Hilda said as she headed for the door, then, just as she was leaving, she chuckled, 'I hope it doesn't come early; she must be close to having it. He said he thinks it's a boy.'

'What?'

'The baby, Meryl's, you know, you took over her job. I suppose they'll get married, might even do it this summer.'

Carol was not that interested, just eager for Hilda to leave; she liked being alone in the surgery, especially sitting in Mr Frogton's section, looking over his things, tidying his desk.

'His divorce was through months ago, so he won't be able to get out of it,' Hilda laughed.

Carol frowned. 'Who are you talking about, Mr Richards?'

'No dear, Mr Frogton, didn't you know, it's his baby.'

Whatever Hilda said after that, Carol didn't hear; she was hardly able to stand upright her legs were shaking so badly.

'Happy Christmas,' Hilda called out as the door closed, missing Carol sinking to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.

No matter how many times she tried to persuade herself that Hilda could be mistaken, she knew it was the truth. He had betrayed her, kept this bitch and the fucking baby a secret. He had lied to her, the bastard had egged her on, teased her with his kisses and smiles.

All over the Christmas break, Carol's fury built. She couldn't eat and hardly slept thinking about how she had been betrayed and how she could make him pay for it, and then she began to feel better as the plan started to take shape. She never took off the bracelet; the jingle of the charms was a constant reminder. It was irritating because the goblin's pointed finger kept sticking in her wrist, like a pinprick, but she even liked that; it kept reminding her of his betrayal.

Christmas came and went and she continued working and behaving normally, smiling and helpful. The arrival of Frogton's baby son created quite a party atmosphere in the surgery, everyone congratulating him and bringing gifts for the little boy. Carol bought a small teddy bear, removing the attached warning: 'Not suitable for small babies' as the eyes were glass and attached by a lethal drawing pin. Secretly she had been fermenting in pain and the arrival of the baby made it worse. At long last she was ready; she would make Peter Frogton pay for his betrayal with his life. She was sure he had bought the fucking bracelet for his whore, she'd probably disliked it, some of the charms were horrible and the gold heart didn't even open.

She left for work at exactly the same time as she usually did. It was only a twenty-minute walk to the clinic and today was an early start. It was always early on Tuesdays and Thursdays as that was when the more complex operations were done. When they were completed, the clinic would open for other business at nine. Mrs Dart the cleaner wasn't given keys, so Carol had to let her in.

Carol had spent weeks preparing for this morning. It was imperative that she was above suspicion. By this time Carol had a rudimentary knowledge of the sedatives used for the animals and she had decided to soak a rag in halothane, as well as lacing Frogton's morning coffee with the Halcyon tablets she had been prescribed for insomnia. In preparation, Carol had been stealing small amounts of halothane from the cabinet for weeks.

Carol had specifically chosen this morning, as there was a Dalmatian, a Rottweiler and a Jack Russell to be put to sleep. The veterinary mortuary van would call for the collection of the animals' carcasses before surgery. The animals would be placed in heavy black plastic bags with their weight and a description attached and then carried on a small gurney to the rear entrance, ready to be driven to the incinerator. There were occasionally grieving owners who asked for their pet's ashes but Carol knew the three that morning had no owner's requests. She was safe, and she had already made an excellent copy of the death certificate for a Great Dane called Felix who had been put to sleep a month earlier. There would be four bodies removed to the incinerator from the Miles and Frogton Veterinary clinic: three canines and one human.

The careful planning of the murder had given Carol a strength of will she never realized she had. She was sure there was no hint of her turmoil, her fury or her pain. She was certain that no one guessed her intentions, least of all Peter Frogton. She was just as certain that she was going to get away with it. It was all in the planning and she had spent night after night making lists, destroying them, only to begin another the next night until she knew everything by heart.

Walk to work.

Open surgery, check operation room.

Prepare Peter Frogton's coffee.

Present morning operations.

Brew fresh coffee, wash out Frogton's mug.

Wait for the drugs to take effect.

Cover his mouth with the soaked rag.

Prepare animals for mortuary.

Kill Peter Frogton.

Place his body in mortuary bag.

Open rear door.

Place bags on gurney.

Re-lock the back door.

Open mail.

Let in Mrs Dart.

Get ready for morning surgery.

Let out Mrs Dart.

Open front door ready for morning surgery.

The lie she would tell Hilda had changed a few times. First Peter had been taken ill, then he had been called away on an emergency, then he had given her the perfect reason for him not being there. As he was now a proud father and had not taken time off at Christmas, he and his 'whore' were going on holiday. The bitch had already left for their rented villa. Frogton had arranged to leave straight after surgery; it was perfect. The practice would be run in his absence by Miles Richards. The fact that Frogton was not returning, not ever, would therefore not become an issue for two weeks and she had booked her own two-week vacation to begin during Frogton's absence. Even if the police were called, they would find no motive, no evidence. Peter Frogton had just disappeared off the face of the earth. Carol had even watched a television documentary detailing just how many people do disappear without trace and the amount was astonishing. She also watched all the television cop shows and knew it was imperative she leave no trace of what had happened, so cleaning up had to be done very methodically.