Heathen/Nemesis

same when my father died; I was saying sorry to everyone. Sorry for being a nuisance, sorry for crying all the time. Then I realized that it didn’t matter. You have a right to your grief. Don’t be ashamed of it.’

Donna smiled, despite her tears. She touched the nurse’s hand.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

The door of the room opened and the WPC re-entered. Mackenzie was with her. He nodded awkwardly to Donna before sitting down opposite her.

‘You wanted some information about your husband’s death, Mrs Ward?’ he said.

She nodded.

‘The crash happened some time this afternoon,’ the DC said. ‘We think at about four o’clock. His body was brought here for identification. It was easier to reach you.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘His brakes failed, as far as we can tell. He hit a wall.’

Donna felt that feeling of despair rising once more like an unstoppable tide.

‘Was anyone else hurt in the crash?’ she wanted to know.

Mackenzie hesitated, licking his lips self-consciously.

‘I’m afraid there was another death. We ... er ... we found another body in the car with your husband. A young woman. Her name was Suzanne Regan.’

Donna sat forward in her chair, a frown creasing her brow.

‘Oh my God,’ she murmured. ‘And she was killed, too?’

‘Unfortunately, yes. Did you know her?’

‘She worked for my husband’s publishers. I don’t know why she would have been with him, though.’

‘She obviously knew your husband quite well?’

‘They worked together,’ Donna said, her confusion growing. ‘Well, not really worked together. Like I said, she worked for his publishers. She was only a secretary, as far as I know. What makes you think she knew him?’

‘Well, she was in the car with him, for one thing, Mrs Ward. I suppose he could have been giving her a lift home, something like that.’

‘What are you trying to say?’ Donna snapped, sucking in a deep breath.

Mackenzie clasped his hands together and looked evenly at the distraught woman.

‘One of the reasons we couldn’t identify your husband after the crash was because he had no ID on his person. No driver’s licence, no credit cards, no cheque book. Nothing.’

‘He always got me to carry his credit cards for him,’ she protested.

‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Mrs Ward. He did have credit cards and his cheque book but he wasn’t carrying them. After we’d taken the bodies from the wreckage we found your husband’s cheque book and credit cards in Suzanne Regan’s handbag.’

Six

‘What are you trying to say?’ Donna demanded angrily.

‘I’m not trying to say anything, Mrs Ward. You merely asked me for some information and I gave it to you,’ Mackenzie told her.

‘I want to see her,’ Donna said flatly.

‘That’s impossible, Mrs Ward.’

‘You could be wrong about her. It might not be Suzanne Regan. I’ve seen her; I could identify her.’

‘That’s already been done. Her brother confirmed it earlier.’

There was an awkward silence, which was finally broken by Donna.

‘Why was she carrying his credit cards?’

‘We don’t know that, Mrs Ward,’ Mackenzie said, almost apologetically.

‘What else did you find in her bag? Anything that belonged to my husband?’ There was a trace of anger in her voice now.

‘I can’t disclose information like that, Mrs Ward.’

‘Was there anything else?’

‘There was a photo of your husband in Miss Regan’s purse, and we found two letters from your husband to Miss Regan in her bag as well.’

‘Where are they?’ Donna demanded.

‘Her brother took them. He took all her belongings with him.’

‘And my husband? Did he have anything of hers?’

‘Not as far as we can tell. There was a card - it looks like a business card - in his wallet, but it was blank apart from a phone number and the initial S written on it.’

‘Suzanne,’ she hissed, her jaws clenched.

The silence descended again and Donna sat back in the chair. Her mind was spinning. First dread, then shock, now confusion. What was next? What other revelations were to be revealed to her?

Why had Suzanne Regan been in the car with him?

Why had she had his photo in her bag? Why was she carrying his credit cards?

Why?

Letters. From Ward to her.

She raised a hand to her face once more, covering her eyes.

‘I will need to speak to you again, Mrs Ward,’ Mackenzie said. ‘Once everything has been taken care of.’

‘You mean after the funeral,’ she said, quietly.

‘I’ll be in touch.’ He moved towards the door, pausing before he left. ‘I’m very sorry.’ And he was gone.

‘I want to go home,’ Donna said, her voice quivering. She sounded like a child, a lost child. And lost she most certainly was. She felt more alone than she could ever remember.

Seven

She’d been alone in the house often, but until now Donna had never felt truly lonely.

The silence and the desolation crowded in on her almost palpably. The clock on the wall opposite showed 1.32 a.m. She cradled the mug of tea in her hands and sat at the breakfast bar, head lowered. The central heating was turned up to full and Donna was seated close to a radiator, but she still felt that ever-present chill. She wondered if it would ever leave her.

The policewoman had offered to stay with her for the night, to call a relative. A doctor at the hospital had recommended sleeping pills. She had declined all the offers, accepting only the one to drive her home around midnight.

Home.

Even the word had an empty ring. How could it be home without Chris there? She sniffed back a tear then thought about what the nurse had said: ‘You have a right to your grief’. It was one of the few things from that interminable evening she did remember.

That, and Mackenzie’s revelations that her husband had been in the car with another woman when he’d been killed.

Donna thought how her mind was trying to dismiss this particular piece of knowledge now in the same way as she had tried to shut herself off from the possibility that her husband was dead.

Another woman?

There was an answer, there had to be. There had to be a reason why Suzanne Regan had been in the car with her husband when he died. Had to be a reason why she was carrying his credit cards and cheque book in her