Guilty Conscious by Oliver Davies (best ereader for students .txt) 📗
- Author: Oliver Davies
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“What can you tell us about their father?” I asked gently, making her snap back into life.
“Mark Helman. Not a particularly hands-on dad. They lost their mum when they were young,” she told us, “and Billie took on the role of parent from then, really. Even when she was at university, she still lived at home. I think it’s why she stayed in the city, I mean, with her brains, she could have gone to Cambridge or Oxford, but she wanted to stay nearby.”
“With Stella?” I asked.
“Indeed. Stella never really talked about him; all of her childhood stories revolved completely around Billie. After the assault,” she went on, “home got a bit trickier. From what she told me, Mark didn’t seem to think that she was telling the truth and certainly didn’t seem to care. She brightened up when the girls moved out on their own. Getting out of that house would have helped, and she only mentioned him once or twice in passing. As far as I’m aware, there wasn’t any communication between any of them.”
I nodded at that, tucking it away for later, and told her, “Billie said that he showed up at the funeral.”
Dr Kumar nodded. “She told me that too. Apparently, it wasn’t the smoothest conversation she’s ever had. He paid me a visit too,” she confessed.
“He did?”
“A little after she died, after the case got wrapped up. I’m not sure how he found me,” she added a tad suspiciously, “but he wanted to know about Stella.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I couldn’t divulge sensitive information with him. She was a minor, under the guardianship of her sister, so unless Billie approved it, I’d stay mute.” She said as much with her chin lifted and her shoulders squared, and I couldn’t help but let out a huff of a laugh.
“Did that go down well?” Mills asked her.
“Not overly,” Dr Kumar noted. “I think, and this is from the very short conversation I had with the man, but I think he has a slight substance problem. Alcohol, from the look of him. He went away fairly quickly after I told him to get in touch with Billie, and he never came back, so I can only assume that she either said no, or he simply didn’t bother.”
“I’d say the latter, from what Billie told us,” I said.
Dr Kumar nodded, a disapproving twist to her mouth. “Regarding Stella.” She shut the folder and braced her arms on her legs. “Recovery isn’t a straight line. It goes up and down. Stella was on an up, and the down that came after might have caught her off guard. Might have just been too much for her. It’s not always the case that something triggered her. But I think you should consider it,” she added in a tight voice, as though it went against her better judgement to offer such a piece of advice.
“We will, thank you, Dr Kumar. And we’re sorry for disturbing you.”
She waved a hand. “For my patients, anything. I hope I’ve been a help.”
“One last question,” I held up a hand apologetically. “You said you had a few sessions with Billie?”
“I can’t divulge Billie’s session with you, Inspector,” she said lowly.
“I know. But at the moment, we have to consider her a suspect for what happened to Edward Vinson,” I told her gently, trusting her not to go around letting it out. She gave me a tight nod, and I relaxed a bit. “In your professional opinion, are we right to consider her a suspect?”
Dr Kumar breathed in and out of her nose very deeply, rocking back slightly. “I want to say no, that Billie’s not capable of such a thing. But she acted the parent for so long, and those girls were close,” she said earnestly. “Very close. I think as it was with Stella, if the downward slope caught her off guard, she might have lashed out.”
She said it diplomatically and kept the edge in her voice that made her think, as we did, that Billie wasn’t our killer, but I took the words themselves into consideration. Highs and lows, I told myself. Billie on a high would be nothing more than a caretaker, but on a low, Edward might have found himself on the receiving end of her grief.
“Thank you, Dr Kumar,” I stood up, offering her my hand. She shook it, and then Mills, and walked us out towards the office.
“If anything happens with Billie,” she said, plucking a business card from her desk, “it’s not exactly the professional way of handling things, but she knows me. If I can help, let me know.” She pressed the card into my hand, and I slipped it safely into my pocket, patting it for good measure.
“Will do. Thanks again,” I added as we walked out towards the stairs. I heard her close the door after us as we reached street level, and I squinted up at the grey sky.
“Back to the station, sir?” Mills asked. I grimace, thinking of the onslaught of questions that Sharp might have waiting for us, but nodded. I needed another coffee before we cracked on with anything else.
Eleven
Thatcher
I could join a circus telling the future, I thought to myself as we walked upstairs in the station to find Sharp waiting for us, bent over Smith’s desk, her face angled towards the entrance. She straightened up as we walked over, and I tugged my collar loose, unable to get a
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