Into the Water(39)

I didn’t, but it wasn’t difficult to find out. Nel Abbott was admitted in the small hours of 18 November for an emergency appendectomy, just like her sister said. She remained in hospital all that day, and they kept her in overnight, too.

Nel couldn’t have bought the pills. They were purchased by someone else, using her card, in her home.

‘Lena,’ I said to Sean. ‘It’s got to be Lena.’

He nodded, grim-faced. ‘We’re going to need to talk to her.’

‘You want to do it now?’ I asked him and he nodded again.

‘No time like the present,’ he said. ‘No time like immediately after the child has lost her mother. Christ, this is a mess.’

And it was about to get messier. We were on our way out of the office when we were waylaid by an overexcited Callie.

‘The prints!’ she said breathlessly. ‘They’ve got a match. Well, not quite a match, because there’s no match to anyone who’s come forward, only—’

‘Only what?’ the DI snapped.

‘Some bright spark decided to take a look at the print on the pill bottle and compare it to the print on the camera – you know, the damaged one?’

‘Yes, we remember the damaged camera,’ Sean replied.

‘OK, well, they match. And before you say it, it’s not Nel Abbott’s print, and it’s not Katie Whittaker’s. Someone else handled both those objects.’

‘Louise,’ Sean said. ‘It has to be. Louise Whittaker.’





Mark


MARK WAS ZIPPING up his suitcase when the detective arrived. A different detective this time, another woman, a bit older and not so pretty.

‘DS Erin Morgan,’ she said, shaking his hand. ‘I was wondering if I could have a word.’

He didn’t invite her in. The house was a mess and he wasn’t in the mood to be accommodating.

‘I’m packing to go on holiday,’ he said. ‘I’m driving to Edinburgh this evening to pick up my fiancée. We’re going to Spain for a few days.’

‘It won’t take long,’ DS Morgan said, her gaze slipping over his shoulder and into the house.

He pulled the front door to. They spoke on the front step.

He assumed it would be about Nel Abbott again. He was, after all, one of the last people to see her alive. He’d seen her outside the pub, they’d spoken briefly, he’d watched her head off towards the Mill House. He was prepared for that conversation. He wasn’t prepared for this one.

‘I know you’ve already been over this, but there are a few things we need to clarify,’ the woman said, ‘about events leading up to the death of Katie Whittaker.’

Mark felt his pulse quicken. ‘What, er … what about it?’

‘I understand that you had cause to intervene in an argument between Lena Abbott and Katie, about a month before Katie died?’

Mark’s throat felt very dry. He struggled to swallow. ‘It wasn’t an argument,’ he said. He held up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. ‘Why … sorry, why is this coming up again? Katie’s death was ruled a suicide, I thought—’

‘Yes,’ the detective interrupted, ‘yes it was, and that hasn’t changed. However, we’ve come to understand that there might have been, er, circumstances surrounding Katie’s death which we didn’t know about before and which may require further investigation.’

Mark turned abruptly, pushing the front door open so hard it rebounded on to him as he stepped into the hallway. The vice was tightening on his skull, his heart was pounding, he had to get out of the sun.

‘Mr Henderson? Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’ His eyes adjusting to the darkness of the hallway, he turned back once more to look at her. ‘Fine. A bit of a headache, that’s all. The glare, it’s just—’

‘Why don’t we get you a glass of water?’ DS Morgan suggested with a smile.

‘No,’ he replied, realizing even as he spoke how sullen he sounded. ‘No, I’m fine.’

There was a silence. ‘The argument, Mr Henderson? Between Lena and Katie?’

Mark shook his head. ‘It wasn’t an argument … I told the police this at the time. I didn’t have to separate them. Not … at least, not in the way that was suggested. Katie and Lena were very close, they could be excitable and voluble, the way many girls of that age – children of that age – can be.’

The detective, still standing in the sunshine on the front step, was now a faceless outline, a shadow. He preferred her that way.

‘Some of Katie’s teachers reported that she seemed distracted, perhaps a bit more reserved than usual, in the weeks running up to her death. Is that your recollection?’

‘No,’ Mark said. He blinked slowly. ‘No. I don’t believe so. I don’t believe that she had changed. I didn’t notice anything different. I didn’t see it coming. We – none of us – saw this coming.’

His voice was low and strained and the detective noticed. ‘I’m sorry to bring all this up again,’ she said. ‘I understand how terrible—’

‘I don’t imagine that you do, actually. I saw that girl every day. She was young and bright and … She was one of my best students. We were all very … fond of her.’ He stumbled over fond.