Page 49 of Her Last Breath

‘She made her choices in life. And her parents should know better than to believe her. They are from a good family, very wealthy. It’s their fault they let their daughter become what she was. Anyway, I can’t tell you anything about her. She came here, shouted at me and the staff as though we were her servants, as though we weren’t looking after her grandmother properly. So much attitude. And then when I found her stealing, she became psychotic.’

‘You never went ahead and pressed charges?’

‘Her parents begged me not to, especially when the old lady died. I’m not cruel, luckily for her. Although not so lucky now.’ Kangna grinned at Jane, who was furious with her nonchalance. She flipped the images on her phone, showing her a picture of Mark Burrows. This time Kangna Kandasamy’s face contorted with surprise.

‘Do you recognise this man?’

‘I have important work to do, Inspector. Why are you wasting my time with pictures of these sorts of people?’

‘So, you know who this is?’

‘I don’t know his name but, yes, I know who he is.’

‘Can you tell me how?’

Kangna breathed out angrily, tapping some keys on her computer noisily and shuffling some more papers. Jane felt the irritation prick at her, the nurse displaying a mix of avoidance and dismissal. She was clearly not interested in helping them and seemed unconcerned that a senior police officer was asking her questions about two murder victims.

‘Mrs Kandasamy …’

‘I told you, call me Kathy. My name sounds like rubble in your mouth.’

Anger flashed in Kangna’s eyes as she spoke, her hands bunched into fists. She took soothing breaths, yoga style, closing her eyes. Then spoke coldly.

‘Yes, I know this man, he was a drug dealer. I complained to your people many times that he was using the car park to do his dealing. This is a place people come to die in peace. I don’t want his type ruining those moments. And what did you people do? Nothing!’

‘I will look into your complaints and try to understand what went wrong.’

‘What went wrong is that this country is broken. This man threatened to stab me when I told him I had called the police. “Snitches get stitches.” Yes, that’s what he said to me. Silly little man!’

Standing up suddenly, Kangna walked across the office and grabbed her purse from inside a locked cabinet. Pulling out a personal danger alarm, she waved it in front of Jane’s face.

‘Only words, but it terrified me. I kept this on me in case he came to stab me. Because your people were protecting him, not me.’

‘Again, Mrs … Kathy, I will look into why we weren’t able to provide you with adequate security. It must have been traumatic, stressful, having to deal with all that alone. Feeling as though nobody was on your side.’

Kangna sat down, lacing her fingers in her lap, as though holding in her anger. Jane decided to give her a moment, checking out the office instead. She saw boxes of latex gloves on the nurse’s desk. Inside a glass door cabinet, with a metal lock, Jane could see medication, boxes of it, with packets of needles and a sharps bin. A small fridge underneath it contained drug pens and other vials.

‘I take it only you and the other nurses have the keys to the medication storage?’

‘No, only I do. The other senior nurse is on long-term sick leave.’ Kangna spat the words out. ‘We have an agency nurse some days, but I wouldn’t trust her with our supplies. I give her what she needs for her shift only.’

‘What happens if there’s an emergency while you’re not on shift and they need supplies?’

‘They call me in, or they call the GP. Or an ambulance. Nothing is an emergency here, they’re all going to die anyway.’

Jane bet the drugs in this place lacked any sort of inventory system, the management would only be interested in the bottom line, and Kangna Kandasamy could order and use whatever she wanted to. As long as they turned a profit, they probably didn’t care about the detail.

Kangna herself seemed misplaced. She should have been full of compassion for her patients, for her environment. Instead, she felt hollow to Jane, capable of cruelty. Jane began to picture how she could easily have incapacitated Alice Rogers and Mark Burrows using supplies from her cabinets.

‘Can I ask where you were on Friday the twenty-second of August, between 8.30 and 10 p.m.? And on Monday the eighteenth of August, between 1 p.m. and 3 p.m.?’

‘What are you implying?’

‘Please answer my questions.’

‘I was at work. I am always at work. Twelve, fourteen hours a day. Every day.’

Jane felt the excitement course through her. The problem with people who thought they were smarter than everybody else was that they generally weren’t.