Page 48 of Her Last Breath

‘It feels like you haven’t come here for me. You know what it seems like to me? Like you came here to watch me die as well.’

The accusation was triggering, red mist creeping into her emotions.

‘I didn’t watch Ed die,’ Jane hissed coldly. ‘He didn’t come into the water after me. You can repeat the same story as much as you want, but it won’t alter what happened. The truth is Ed killed himself, your precious little golden child took his own life.’

Jane felt cruel, her words bitter and barbed. She also felt angry, with thirty years of false blame and no acknowledgement from her mother that she was wrong. No matter what she said outwardly, Jane knew one of the main reasons she’d come back was for some sort of reconciliation, a moment for her mother to admit what she had done.

‘Don’t speak about him like that.’

‘God forbid I say anything about Saint Ed.’

‘Just get out!’ Maeve screamed so loudly that the carers came running into the room. ‘Get out, get out, get out! Tell her to get out of my house!’

Chapter 30

‘What can I do for you, Inspector?’

Her unpleasant altercation with her mother had left Jane rattled, frustration and irritation coursing through her body. Those feelings needed to be managed, however, if she was to do her job effectively. To interview Kangna Kandasamy. Driving to the hospice had given her some time to collect herself, yet below the surface she was still reeling.

Observing the hospice nurse, Jane saw the woman had extremely skinny wrists, a reed-like body, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She hoisted up a stack of medical textbooks on a spare chair without thinking. Sinew and muscle, Jane deduced. She carried on moving items, before standing briefly by her desk.

‘I have a few questions I need to ask you, Mrs Kandasamy.’

‘Related to what?’ Kangna sat down and started tapping away at her keyboard, marking things off on a checklist.

‘Mrs Kandasamy, Kangna … can I call you Kangna, please?’

The nurse looked at her with narrowed eyes.

‘No, you may not, your pronunciation is atrocious. I usually get people to use the lazy racist version, Kathy, rather than hear the name my parents gave me butchered.’

Jane wanted to defend herself; she was neither racist nor lazy. Instead, she remained conciliatory.

‘If you prefer.’

‘I do. What do you want, Inspector? I’m very busy and like every other hospice and care home, we are extremely understaffed.’

‘I’m sure you’ve seen media reports that we found the body of a young woman, Alice Rogers, in the River Calder three days ago.’ Jane brought up Alice Rogers’ picture on her phone, which Kangna Kandasamy glanced at, grunting disapproval.

‘Yes, I know her. The thief. What about her?’

‘We have reason to suspect that another party may have been involved in her death.’

‘What do you expect?’ Kangna spoke with the sort of accent that Sameer used to mimic for her. It was an Indian accent but laced with Agatha Christie or Enid Blyton, to try and sound posh. ‘People like that.’

‘People like what?’

‘Come on, Inspector, it’s no secret she was a junkie and a thief.’

‘It’s interesting that you keep referring to her as a thief. I spoke to Alice’s parents. They have a very different version of events.’

‘Yes, I am sure of it. She was a crazy girl. When the police came, she dared to accuse me of stealing. Disgusting creature! I’m here wiping her grandmother’s bottom and cleaning up mess that she should have dealt with as family, and she does that. Testament to her character.’

‘Her parents back up her version of events. There was no reason for Alice to steal from her grandmother, especially something that she was likely to inherit.’

‘I don’t know how you people are, she probably thought she had a right to it already. No respect. Maybe she had to get a drugs fix, needed the money urgently.’

‘You have no sympathy for her dying then?’