sure as hell aren't going to work with me. GODDAMMIT!' she roared suddenly, putting her mouth to the oak- panelled door. 'You're a forty-year-old middle-aged woman, you stupid cow, so act your age.' 'DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!'
'But you get up my nose, Joanna. I have only contempt for someone who can't function unless they're doped stupid.' Tranquillizers was Jack's guess.
No answer.
'You need help,' she went on matter-of-factly, 'and the best person to give it to you is based in London. He's a psychiatrist who specializes in all forms of drug addiction but he won't take you on unless you're willing to give up. If you're interested I'll refer you, if you're not then I suggest you prepare yourself for the long term consequences of habitual substance abuse on the human body, beginning with the one thing you don't want. You will get old very much quicker than I will, Joanna, because your physical chemistry is under constant attack and mine isn't.'
'Get out of my house, Dr. Blakeney.' She was beginning to calm down,
'I can't, not till Sergeant Cooper gets here. And it's not your house, remember, it's mine. What are you on?'
There was a long, long silence. 'Valium,' said Joanna finally. 'Dr. Hendry prescribed it for me when I came back here after Steven died. I tried to smother Ruth in her cot, so Mother called him in and begged him to give me something.'
'Why did you try to smother Ruth?'
'It seemed the most sensible thing to do. I wasn't coping terribly well.'
'And did tranquillizers help?'
'I don't remember. I was always tired, I remember that.'
Sarah believed her, because she could believe it of Hugh Hendry. Classic symptoms of severe post-natal depression, and instead of giving the poor woman anti-depressants to lift her mood, the idiot had effectively shoved her into a state of lethargy by giving her sedatives. No wonder she found it so difficult to get on with Ruth, when one of the tragic consequences of post-natal depression, if it wasn't treated properly, was that mothers found it difficult to develop natural loving relationships with their babies whom they saw as the reason for their sudden inability to cope. God, but it explained a lot about this family if the women had a tendency to post-natal depression. 'I can help you,' she said. 'Will you let me help you?'
'Lots of people take Valium. It's perfectly legal.'
'And very effective in the right circumstances and under proper supervision. But you're not getting yours from a doctor, Joanna. The problems of diazepam addiction are so well documented that no responsible practitioner would go on prescribing them for you. Which means you've got a private supplier somewhere and the tablets won't be cheap. Black market drugs never are. Let me help you,' she said again.
'You've never been afraid. What would you know about anything if you've never been afraid?'
'What were you afraid of?'
'I was afraid to go to sleep. For years and years I was afraid to go to sleep.' She laughed suddenly. 'Not any more, though. She's dead.'
The doorbell rang.
Sergeant Cooper was in a very tetchy mood. The last twenty-four hours had been frustrating ones for him and not just because he had had to work over the weekend and miss Sunday lunch with his children and grandchildren. His wife, tired and irritable herself, had delivered the inevitable ticking-off about his lack of commitment to his family. 'You should put your foot down,' she told him. 'The police force doesn't own you, Tommy.'
They had held Hughes overnight at Learmouth Police Station but had released him without charge at lunch- time. After a persistent refusal the previous afternoon to say anything at all, he had reverted that morning to his previous statement, namely that he had been driving around aimlessly before returning to his squat. He gave the time for his return as nine o'clock. Cooper, dispatched by Charlie Jones to interview the youths who shared the squat with him, had come back deeply irritated.
'It's a set-up,' he told the DCI. 'They've got his alibi off pat. I spoke to each one in turn, asked them to give me an account of their movements on the evening of Saturday, the sixth of November, and each one told me the same story. They were watching the portable telly and drinking beer in Hughes's room when Hughes walked in at nine o'clock. He stayed there all night, as did his van which was parked in the road outside. I did not mention Hughes once, nor imply that I was at all interested in him or his blasted van. They offered the information gratuitously and without prompting.'
'How could they know he'd told us nine o'clock?'
'The solicitor?'
Charlie shook his head. 'Very unlikely. I get the impression he doesn't like his client any more than we do.'
'Then it's a prearranged thing. If questioned, Hughes will always give nine o'clock as the time he returns to the squat.'
'Or they're telling the truth.'
Cooper gave a snort of derision. 'No chance. They were scum. If any of them were tamely watching telly that night, I'm a monkey's uncle. Far more likely, they were out beating up old ladies or knifing rival football supporters.'
The Inspector mulled this over. 'There's no such thing as an alibi applicable in all situations,' he said thoughtfully. 'Not unless Hughes always makes a habit of committing crimes after nine o'clock at night, and we know he doesn't do that, because Ruth stole her grandmother's earrings at two-thirty in the afternoon.' He fell silent.
'So what are you saying?' asked Cooper when he didn't go on. 'That they're telling the truth?' He shook his head aggressively. 'I don't believe that.'
'I'm wondering why Hughes didn't produce this alibi yesterday. Why did he keep mum for so long if he knew his mates were going to back him up?' He answered his own question slowly. 'Because his solicitor forced my hand
