Page 322 of Troubled Blood

“No,” she repeated, as she put the obituaries back into her bottom drawer and closed it, as though it mattered any more whether she tidied these things away, as though they wouldn’t soon be used in evidence against her. Knees clicking, she got slowly to her feet again, and returned to the sofa.

“I was getting Brenner to sign for drugs for me,” she said. “’E fort I was selling them on the street, dopey old sod.”

“How did you persuade him to over-order drugs? Blackmail?”

“S’pose you’d call it that, yeah,” she said. “I found out ’e was going to see a prostitute locally. One of ’er kids told me Brenner was visiting ’er once a week. I fort, right, I’ll get you, you dirty old bastard. ’E was coming up for retirement. I knew ’e didn’t want to end ’is career in disgrace. I went in to see ’im one day in his consulting room and told ’im I knew. ’E nearly ’ad an ’eart attack,” said Janice, with a malicious smile. “I told ’im I knew ’ow to keep me mouf shut, and then I asked ’im to get me some drugs. ’E signed like a lamb. I was using stuff Brenner got me for years, after.”

“The prostitute was Betty Fuller, right?

“Yeah,” said Janice. “I fort you’d find that out.”

“Did Brenner really assault Deborah Athorn?”

“No. ’E checked ’er stitches after she had Samhain, that’s all.”

“Why did Clare Spencer tell me that story? Just blowing a bit more smoke around?”

Janice shrugged.

“I dunno. I fort maybe you’d fink Brenner was a sex pest and Margot found out ’e was fiddling with patients.”

“Was there ever really an Amytal capsule in Brenner’s mug?”

“No,” said Janice. “It was in Irene’s mug… that was stupid,” she said, her pink and white brow furrowed. The wide blue eyes drifted over her wall of victims’ photographs, to the window and back to Strike. “I shouldn’t of done that. Sometimes I sailed a bit close to the wind. Took silly risks. Irene was pissing me off one day on reception, flirting wiv—just flirting,” said Janice, “so I took ’er a mug of tea wiv a couple of capsules in it. She talks till you could throttle ’er, I just wanted ’er to shut the hell up for a bit. But she let it go cold…

“I was sort of glad, after I’d calmed down. I got the mug and took it out the back to wash up, but Margot come creepin’ up behind me in ’er flat shoes. I tried to ’ide it, but she saw.

“I fort she’d go tellin’ tales, so I ’ad to get in first. I went straight to Dr. Gupta and said I’d found a capsule in Dr. Brenner’s tea, and told ’im I fort ’e was over-ordering drugs and was addicted. What else could I do? Gupta was a nice man but he was a coward. Bit scared of Brenner. I fort ’e probably wouldn’t confront ’im, and ’e didn’t, but honestly, I knew even if ’e ’ad, Brenner would rather pretend to be an addict than risk me tellin’ anyone about a ’is dirty little fing wiv Betty Fuller.”

“And was Margot really worried about how Dorothy Oakden’s mother died?”

“No,” said Janice again. “But I ’ad to tell you somefing, didn’t I?”

“You’re a genius of misdirection,” said Strike, and Janice turned slightly pink.

“I’ve always been clever,” she mumbled, “but that don’t ’elp a woman. It’s better to be pretty. You ’ave a better life if you’re good-looking. Men always went for Irene, not me. She talked shit all night long, but they liked ’er better. I wasn’t bad-looking… I just didn’t ’ave what men liked.”

“When we first met the two of you,” said Strike, ignoring this, “I thought Irene might’ve wanted you interviewed together to make sure you didn’t spill her secrets, but it was the other way round, wasn’t it? You wanted to be there to control what she said.”

“Yeah, well,” said Janice, with another sigh, “I didn’t do that well, did I? She was blabbing left, right and center.”

“Tell me, did Charlie Ramage really see a missing woman in Leamington Spa?”

“No. I just needed to give you somefing to fink about instead of Margot prodding Kev in the tummy. Charlie Ramage told me ’e saw Mary Flanagan in a country churchyard in… Worcestershire somewhere, I fink it was. I knew nobody could say no diff’rent, I knew ’e was dead and I knew ’e talked such bollocks, nobody round ’im would remember one more tall story.”

“Was the mention of Leamington Spa supposed to nudge me toward Irene and Satchwell?”

“Yeah,” said Janice.

“Did you put drugs in Wilma Bayliss’s Thermos? Is that why she seemed drunk to people at the surgery?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I already told you,” said Janice restlessly, “I don’t know why I do it, I just do… I wanted to see what would ’appen to ’er. I like knowing why fings are ’appening, when nobody else does…

“’Ow did you work all this out?” she demanded. “Talbot and Lawson never suspected.”

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