Page 40 of Insomnia

“Why would I leave the pillow there like that?” I’m so angry and frustrated that I ignore Darcy’s signals to stop speaking. “I’m not stupid, why wouldn’t I put it back? Why leave it like some big neon sign declaring that I’ve just murdered my mother?”

“Perhaps you panicked,” Caine says. “People do.”

“We’re not here to talk about what other people might do.” Darcy rustles the papers in front of him. “From what I can see from this initial report, there’s no bruising on the alleged victim’s face or neck and no evidence whatsoever of a struggle or force used. There are no defensive marks on her hands or skin scrapings under her nails from scratching at an attacker.”

“Patricia Bournett was sedated and unable to move at the time of her death—”

Darcy refuses to let Caine finish. “Not according to my client’s statement, in which her mother reached up, gripped her wrist tightly, and opened her eyes.”

“We have only your client’s word for that.” Hildreth has leaned back in her chair, arms folded, and looks thoroughly pissed off. Whatever she thought she could intimidate me into confessing,Darcy’s not given her a chance, and I may have been terrified when they brought me here, but I know the law and I knew better than to sayanythingin the couple of hours we had to wait for Darcy to get here.

“Actually, not so,” Darcy says. “I spoke with the hospital staff on my way here, and Patricia Bournett’s heart rate and blood pressure had a spike that lasted approximately thirty seconds at two forty-eightp.m. Not the kind of spike they would expect to see in someone fully sedated, and which supports my client’s statement that her mother was active at that moment. The next time Ms. Bournett’s heart rate increased–very rapidly–was at the point of her death.” He pauses. “When my client was in her car after taking a call from her son’s school.”

“Where she was when she took that call is up for debate.”

“For now, yes.” He smiles again. “Although I will be requesting permission to view the security camera footage of the hospital car park where Mrs. Averell’s car was parked. I’m surprised you hadn’t already checked it before threatening my client with arrest.”

Hildreth glares sideways at Caine, who looks down at his coffee cup, awkward, and it’s clear that was a job the detective constable was supposed to have in hand.

“And as for the rest of your very circumstantial evidence, I’d like to remind you that of Patricia Bournett’s two daughters, my client is the one who completed higher education, has a very good career in law, and has a family that she has been with for nearly twenty years. Theotherdaughter—the one whom Patricia actually tried to kill by suffocating her with a pillow back on the night of her fortieth birthday—is a loner who has never achieved her full potential, and is certainly not without familial resentments herself, and was also at the hospital that day.”

I look across at him, shocked. Surely he doesn’t think that—

“I’m not suggesting, of course, that Phoebe Bournett killed her mother. That’s ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as suggesting that my client would throw her very impressive life and career away to kill a woman who was basically a stranger to her and who was in all probability dying anyway. And her concerns about her personal history repeating itself? Ask anyone who had a parent die young of a heart attack, and trust me they worry about the same thing happening to them at the same age. It’s human nature.” He leans back in his chair. “And that, Detective Sergeant Hildreth, is me destroying your case without even trying. I’m presuming my client is free to leave now?”

32.

It’s past eight by the time we get out of the station and the heat of the day has cooled to a pleasantly warm evening, and as Darcy drives through the center of the city, the outdoor bars are full of people relaxing and enjoying themselves. I feel a pang of envy. How wonderful to be so carefree.

“I would rather you billed me,” I repeat for about the third time. He’s acting like it was no bother to come out and that he wasn’t busy, but I know that’s not true.

“It’s fine. Honestly. What are friends for? If I ever get married and then need a divorce, I’ll come and reclaim the time.”

“Deal.” I accept defeat.

“How are you?” He looks over at me. “I mean, you look great. Well, great for a woman who’s not slept, crashed her car, and then been taken in for questioning by the police.”

“It’s my best look.” I grin at him. He, on the other hand, reallydoeslook great. He’s not all that different from when we were barely twenty. Probably the only man I know who can make that claim. He hasn’t got a middle-aged spread, his hair is still as thick as it ever was, with a sprinkling of gray that seems to add to his charm, weirdly. Still gorgeous, basically.

I look out the window. It’s funny how life turns out. If I hadn’t got pregnant so young with Chloe, who knows what would havehappened. Robert and I had been getting snippier with each other. I was studying hard, spending a lot of time with Darcy, and we were definitely both feeling the attraction and havingwouldn’t it be nice ifthoughts. One drunken kiss was all we had and then I found out I was pregnant and that was that. I never told Robert. I didn’t see the point. He and Phoebe had grown closer then too, alone in the flat together so much while I studied. I remember wondering if anything had happened between them, but never asked. I felt guilty enough about my own crush on Darcy. And then when we decided to keep the baby, the future with me and Robert was decided and in the main, I had no regrets. I did love Robert. Idolove Robert.

“So come on,” he says. “How are you? Aside from all this crap. How’s married life? Still disgustingly happy?”

How to answer that? “Pretty much, I guess,” I say, damning my marriage with faint praise. “Twenty years is a long time, and we’re very different people. But don’t get me wrong, Robert’s great. I could never have focused on my career if he hadn’t agreed to do all the stay-at-home stuff with Chloe and then Will. I owe him a lot for that.”

“I think it probably suited him too. He barely made it to his lectures I remember you saying. What did he get? A third? You had to not work pretty hard to get a third back then. A third took a lot of work-avoiding effort.”

“Harsh!” I can’t help but laugh. “But maybe fair.”

“Definitely fair. He only worked in that bar for the free beer and cigarettes. No one could figure out what the two of you were doing together.”

“Really?”

“You were so driven. So determined to succeed. He was just cruising.”

“That’s what I liked about him. He was happy in himself.” That part is true. Robert was sonormaland I had wanted normal more than anything. “Now he wants to open a bar of his own. I think he’s having a midlife crisis.” We both snort a laugh and I feel disloyal, but it’s so nice to be with someone who’s helping me rather than looking at me like I’m barking mad.

“What about you? How come you’re not married? I’d have thought they’d be lining up to drag you down the aisle.”

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