‘You’re saying Shawcross never really had PTSD then, sir?’
‘Oh no, Doyle, I think it’s very likely she did . . . And she found a sensitive and empathetic therapist in Jenni Harte.’
‘But her motives were complicated.’
‘Precisely, Kate.’ As ever, Burton was on the DI’s wavelength. ‘Rebecca saw Jenni unofficially — as a private patient — so there was no record in the practice books of their sessions.’
‘But Jenni scribbled stuff in her appointments diary . . . a careless oversight . . . and Peter Elford came across it when he was nosing round the offices.’
‘Spot on, Doyle.’
Now they were motoring.
‘Elford immediately made the connection between the two women—’
‘And must’ve confronted Jenni Harte with what he knew.’
‘Correct, Doyle.’
‘Hold on. Hold on.’ This was all going too fast for the resident behemoth. ‘Pickering had an alibi for Shawcross, guv. She was in a training meeting or whatnot wi’ Maureen Stanley.’
‘But don’t you see, sarge.’ Burton got in before Markham could respond. ‘That’s what was bothering Loraine Thornley . . . She saw Maureen drifting round the surgery when she was supposed to be teaching Jayne and knew that she hadn’t been upfront with us.’
‘Right. I’m with you now.’ Noakes scratched his chin ruminatively. ‘So Loraine was upset about that, what with her being a stickler for doing things right.’
‘Yes, sarge. But don’t you see,’ Burton repeated, eyes alight. ‘Jayne was left on her own . . . There was a window of opportunity . . . and she took it.’
‘Chuffing big risk.’
‘Presumably she nipped out herself when Maureen did her disappearing act and ran into Rebecca who was hanging round the surgery . . . maybe angling for a word with Jenni . . . then somehow lured her into the minor ops treatment room.’
‘I should have seen it sooner.’ Markham’s face twisted. ‘I zeroed in on Maureen Stanley while ignoring Jayne’s lack of an alibi for the time when Maureen was absent.’
‘None of us made the connection, sir,’ Burton said earnestly. ‘When Loraine Thornley was murdered, we just thought of Jayne as Loraine’s niece . . . Never looked at her in the light of a suspect.’
‘You’re saying Jayne killed her aunt, then.’ Doyle looked distressed. ‘But why?’ Angrily, he plucked at a hangnail. ‘If Loraine figured Maureen Stanley for the killer, she hadn’t got the right person . . . so why’d she have to die?’
‘But Loraine didn’t,’ Burton went on. ‘Didn’t figure Stanley for the killer . . . Oh sure, she didn’t like it that Maureen lied, but deep down she knew it wasn’t Maureen.’
‘Why’d she have to die?’ Doyle persisted.
‘Because she was starting to become suspicious about Jayne . . . maybe she’d seen something which alerted her that there was something going on between her niece and Jenni Harte . . . something that made her uneasy . . .’
‘What . . . you mean summat sexual . . . ?’
Noakes’s eyes were popping. He had just about got his head round the idea of a liaison between Rebecca Shawcross and Jenni Harte, and now it looked like turning into some sort of gruesome ménage à trois.
‘Not necessarily, sarge,’ Burton said soothingly, alarmed by her colleague’s sudden fuchsia hue. ‘More like she was worried that Jenni had an unwholesome hold over Jayne. She must’ve noticed something, sensed something. She may have said something to Jayne . . . something which convinced Jayne her aunt was on to them . . .’
‘So who killed Peter Elford then?’ Noakes demanded belligerently. ‘Pickering was out doing home visits with Loraine in the morning, wasn’t she?’
‘I wonder,’ Burton said softly. ‘D’you know, sarge, I think we’ll find Jayne turned up late that morning . . . made up some sort of excuse . . . the traffic, not feeling well, whatever . . . and it was only afterwards that Loraine began to ask questions . . .’
‘So you’re saying Pickering killed Shawcross, Elford and Loraine, then?’ Noakes’s face was working with the intensity of his cogitations.
‘Yeah, I reckon so, sarge.’ Burton’s voice was gentle as though, like Markham, she had sensed the tectonic plates shifting below Noakes’s feet.
‘What about Tariq Azhar?’ Doyle looked almost as troubled as Noakes. ‘Who did for him?’
‘Maybe Jayne . . . maybe Jenni.’ Markham met each of their eyes in turn. ‘Or maybe joint enterprise by that point.’
‘Jeez, guv.’ Doyle’s frank boyish face was more conflicted than Markham had ever seen it. ‘Jenni Harte . . .’ He held up two crossed fingers. ‘I mean, she and Tariq were like that — ever so close. If you saw them together . . . you couldn’t get a cigarette paper between them.’
‘D’you really think Harte could’ve planned it all an’ then killed that nice fella, guv?’ Noakes echoed. ‘A slip of a lass like that . . . Jus’ cos Shawcross nicked her ideas . . .’
‘If Jenni loved Rebecca — really loved her — then it would have been the ultimate betrayal,’ Burton said. ‘When she discovered Rebecca was two-timing her with Leo Cartwright — and perhaps others for all we know — it must’ve hurt like hell . . .’
Not for the first time, the DI wondered about Kate Burton’s own ‘backstory,’ so intuitive was her appreciation of the jealous torments Jenni Harte had endured.
‘And then . . . Rebecca was plundering Jenni’s intellectual property,’ Burton continued. ‘Lifting ideas from their sessions and using them for her
