The Wisdom Gum

A burned body, a forged dental identity, and a dentist with something to hide.

Apr 03, 2026

Lydia Hepburn could barely believe it when Grandma Bertha asked to go to the dentist. After all these years living with her mother-in-law, Lydia could never understand why Grandma Bertha hated to use her dentures so much, no matter how many times they offered them to her. Todd was out at work, and Stu was at school, so Lydia decided to take Grandma Bertha herself to the dentist’s office. Maybe that could make a difference in their rocky relationship.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this, Albertha!” said Lydia as the two of them sat in the sterile waiting room.

The walls were impeccably white with decorations in lilac. Grandma Bertha was quieter than usual, moving her fingers around as if she missed her knitting materials. The receptionist was a pretty young woman with dark hair and a smile full of braces.

The office door opened, and a teenage boy came out, followed by his mother. “See you next month, Robert!” said the dentist, a little chubby man with a shiny bald head. “And you must be Mrs Hepburn. I’m Dr Carroll.”

“Call me Grandma Bertha.”

“Don’t be silly, Alberta, he can’t call you that!” said Lydia, holding the old lady’s hand and walking her into the office. Apart from the traditional dentist’s chair, with all its apparatus, there was a heavy oak desk with chairs on both sides. Dr Carroll offered them a seat.

“Now, Mrs Hepburn, before I take your mould, I’d like to know a little more about you.”

“I’m a detective, Dr Carroll.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Of course not!” said Lydia, with an awkward giggle. “Please, Albertha, don’t embarrass me. Grandma Bertha is retired, and she likes to play these games—”

“I see. Well, I imagine you’re interested in a new denture. You came to the right place. I’m proud to offer the most technologically advanced dental prosthesis on the market. They feel so natural and comfortable, you won’t even notice you’re wearing one.”

“That’s nice, isn’t it, Albertha?”

The old lady didn’t seem impressed. “Dr Carroll, may I ask you a technical question?”

Here we go, thought Lydia, realising this had been a mistake.

Dr Carroll looked intrigued. “A technical question? I can’t imagine what it is, but please go ahead.”

Grandma Bertha took a deep breath. “Lydia is right. I like to play games. First, I’d like to share a brief story about a woman named Camille Gardner. Do you remember her? She was your patient.”

Lydia was losing her temper. “Enough, Albertha! Dr Carroll must have so many patients, and you want her to remember—”

“Let me make it easy for you. This patient died two months ago. Murdered.”

The doctor wasn’t smiling anymore. “Yes, I remember Camille Gardner. Where did you know her from?”

“She was part of my Cluedo group. We gathered once a month to play it, and she always chose Mrs Peacock. Camilla was a sweet young woman. Small, fragile, eyes like a puppy dog, and a beautiful smile. She wore braces, and that made her look even sweeter. Poor Camilla. We never met outside our Cluedo games, but this time, three months ago, she asked me out. We went to a pub and ordered a couple of beers. She was scared.”

“Grandma Bertha, she said. I don’t have anyone in this world. No family, no friends. I don’t mind that. It’s better to be alone than to be in bad company. I have my cats and my books. That’s how I like it. But I have a secret. My father was a wealthy man, and he left three million pounds in his will. The money wasn’t for me, it was for my children—except I had none!”

“Camilla went on: I talked to my solicitor about it. Mr Halley said that I could create a trust fund for that money after I died. He said he would be happy to take care of the trust for me, then he made a strange proposal. Mr Halley asked me if I wasn’t interested in faking my own death so I could assume a different identity and enjoy the money.”

“I told her this all sounded very shady, and she shouldn’t trust this solicitor. Camille agreed with me. Still, the solicitor told her how she could do it. First, create a trust fund in his name. Then, they would stage an accident and a body. Mr Halliday promised that getting a body was easy, but that it had to be burned to a crisp, so the only way people would identify it was through her dental records.”

Sweat poured from Dr Carroll’s forehead. “I must advise you that if you want to continue with this little story, I—”

“You want to call your solicitor? I guess his name is Halley.”

“Please leave my office!” he said, pointing at the door.

“Let me ask my technical question before we go. Would you be able to modify the dental arch of a dead body to make it look like it was Camille’s?”

Dr Carroll laughed. “You’ve been watching too many movies, you old hag. That would never work in the real world.”

“Maybe. But what if you were the one in charge of identifying the body? As I know you were?”

“Out!” he yelled.

“Let’s go, Albertha,” said Lydia, grabbing her by the shoulder.

Grandma Bertha didn’t move. “Poor Camille didn’t want to take part in the charade, but she left me a note. She feared for her life. Of course, the solicitor couldn’t find a dead body. It would be her body all along. So she did something extreme. She pulled two of her own teeth with a pair of pliers and took a mould with another dentist to present in the trial for her murder.”

“Where is that mould?” asked Dr Carroll.

The door opened, and the pretty receptionist walked in. “I’m sorry, Dr Carroll, but the police are here.”

Grandma Bertha smiled with all her gums. “Right on time!”

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Check out Grandma Bertha’s original series!

https://grandmabertha.substack.com/p/grandma-berthas-original-books