“I can’t sleep,” she repeated, much more softly this time, “please, I’ll register with another doctor when I have the chance. Mr Walsh knows me. He always lets me have them.”

“I’ll tell you what.” The queue was growing. “I’ll renew it for you this time, but next time you’ll have to see a doctor. These tablets are nothing to play around with.”

“Thank you.” Taylor’s heart was pounding in her ears. She watched as the woman opened up a jar of blue capsules and emptied about twenty into a small plastic packet.

“You can’t stay on these forever,” the pharmacist told her. “The side effects can be very dangerous.”

“I know. Just a few more weeks. I’ll register with a doctor as soon as I can.”

* * *

Taylor drove away from the town centre. She let out a huge sigh of relief. The pills were safely tucked away in the little box in her jacket pocket. The tension she had experienced in the pharmacy had scared her. I’m turning into an addict.

As she approached her house, she was surprised by the white van outside — she’d completely forgotten that Alice Green was staying with her.

When she walked in, a mouth-watering smell hit her. She was even hungrier than she’d realised.

“Hello, dear,” Alice said. “Good day at work? I hope you don’t mind, but I thought the least I could do was cook you something nice. There wasn’t much in the freezer but I found a nice piece of gammon at the bottom.”

“I don’t get much chance to go shopping. That smells delicious.”

“I made an apple sauce to go with it. It’s an old family recipe. You didn’t have any apples in the house, so I did a bit of shopping. I got a nice bottle of port too if you’re interested.”

“I’d better not. I’ve got an early start in the morning.”

“On a Saturday?” Alice opened up the bottle of port and poured a large glassful.

“There’s a team coming in from Exeter tonight. They’ll be taking over the investigation. I’m the only one who’s been asked to join them.”

“That’s not going to make you very popular.” Alice took a long sip of port and smiled sympathetically. “Life’s not going to be too pleasant for you at work, my dear.”

“I know,” Taylor said, “but I could hardly say no. I really need a shower. Have I got time before the food’s ready?”

“Of course. The gammon’s still got another half an hour at least.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The hospital was a thirty-minute drive from Trotterdown. Killian knew the route like the back of his hand. He left Trotterdown behind and headed inland. The housing estates and built-up areas were replaced by open fields and smallholdings as he drove further south. The tourist season was already in full swing and Killian negotiated drivers speeding up or slowing down to a dead halt on unfamiliar twisty roads.

He thought about the day Megan was finally diagnosed. Megan had only been in her thirties when she started “seeing things funny” and being unable to do up her own buttons. It had taken a dreadful year and numerous appointments before the final diagnosis of one of the early-onset forms of Alzheimer’s.

Killian had hung on to hope as long as he could. It had taken years before Megan’s memory and language started to go — that was the ‘good’ thing about this type of the disease. He’d read every bit of research he could find, and lobbied to get Megan any and all of the medications that could help her symptoms. They’d had a decent few years. Now, ten years down the line, things were different. Megan was deteriorating, her symptoms were way beyond anything that medication could control, and she couldn’t be left on her own. Once she got over this infection and came home, Killian would have to face the fact that even full-time paid carers might not be enough. He’d have to choose between putting his wife in a home, decades before he’d ever expected her to reach this stage, or give up his own work to be with his wife for the last heart-breaking years.

Maybe all of this is happening for a reason, he thought, maybe the arrival of the team from Exeter is a sign. A sign that it’s time for me to hang up my gloves and concentrate on something much more important than police work.

Killian knew he would be able to apply for early retirement. He also knew that, under the circumstances, it would be granted. But it was a grim decision to have to make. He was thinking so hard than he almost ran into the back of a huge SUV that had come to a halt in front of him.

“Idiot,” he shouted. “Watch what you’re doing.”

The SUV shot off at speed into the distance. Killian hated the roads at this time of year. The Cornwall tourist board claimed that the tourist revenue was essential to the local economy but, for Killian, all it meant was frustration on the roads and an increase in petty crime.

Megan was fast asleep when he got to her room. He leant over her and kissed her on the cheek. Her breathing was very rapid. Killian brushed a stray hair from her eyes and sat down next to the bed.

A young nurse came in. “She’s had a pretty rough twenty-four hours,” she said, “but she’s quite comfortable now. She’s been asleep for a few hours.”

“I won’t wake her. I’ll just sit here if that’s all right.”

“Of course, Mr Killian. Can I get you a cup of coffee?” She smiled.

“No thanks. I’ve had far too much coffee already today.”

“I thought that’s how you guys solved all your cases, over endless cups of coffee.”

“Something like that.”

“I’d better get back to my rounds.” The nurse checked the monitor next to Megan’s bed. “The doctor will want to speak to you later.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The nurse left. His wife looked so peaceful in her sleep. It was as if there was nothing wrong with her. Every now and again her mouth would open slightly and close again. He shut his eyes and was just about to doze off when his phone started to ring in his pocket.

It was Taylor.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“Where are you?” she said.

“At the hospital. Megan’s asleep. I was just about to nod off myself.”

“Sorry. How’s she doing?”

“Fine.” He didn’t have enough energy to talk about his wife’s condition.

“I need to tell you something and I didn’t want you to hear it from somebody else.”

“Go on.”

“DCI James wants me on his team. I thought you ought to know. I’m the only one from Trotterdown he wants.”

He said nothing.

“Are you still there?” Taylor asked.

“I’m here. That’s great news.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry? If he hadn’t wanted you on the investigation, I would’ve been angry. Well done. Make us all proud.”

“Thanks. I hope your wife is going to be ok.”

“Thanks, Harriet.”

There was a pause and then Taylor added: “There’s something else. I mentioned to James about Alice Green’s wedding forty years ago. I told him you thought it wasn’t important. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

“Taylor, my mind has been elsewhere for the past few days. You were right to mention it. Three people who were at the wedding are now dead. I should have seen the connection earlier. Like I said, my focus isn’t on the job at the moment. It’s time I stepped back for a while.”

“Sir,” Taylor said.

“Yes, Taylor.” Killian stifled a yawn.

“Would it be all right if I called you if I need any help?”

“Of course. But I’m not sure DCI James will appreciate it.”

“He’ll never know,” Taylor said and rang off.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Taylor hung up.

“How did he take it?” Alice asked.

“Better than I expected. I thought he’d be angry.”