‘It is a system in which you believe, regardless of any imperfections?’

‘Of course.’

‘Although it was before your time in the force, I’m sure you will have heard of the Carl Bridgewater case. A thirteen-year-old paper boy was shot dead at a farm not far from here. The Midlands Serious Crime Squad fixated on a group of four males and eventually secured convictions for all four on what was painfully scarce evidence.

‘Following investigations into their methods the Serious Crime Squad was disbanded for, amongst other things, fabricating evidence, and many of their convictions were overturned. Years later, the three living males convicted of murdering Carl Bridgewater were released from prison on appeal.’

Alex tipped her head to the right. ‘So, please, tell me what part of that particular process you are most proud of?’

‘One of the males made a full confession,’ Kim defended.

‘After severely questionable methods of interrogation. What I’m trying to demonstrate with that particular example is that, at worst, those police officers were aware that they were framing innocent men, in which case the system failed. Or perhaps they were overzealous in their methods but got the right men, who were then released on appeal; again, the system failed.

‘Every single profession is fraught with inconsistencies. It is the exception that often proves the rule. I believe passionately in what I do, but do I accept that not everyone will behave the way I’d like them to? Of course I do, because that is human nature.’

Kim’s brow furrowed. ‘So, to use your example, those police officers either deliberately manipulated the evidence or they were grossly incompetent. Which one of those options is responsible for your failure with Ruth, Doctor?’

Alex chuckled. She really did like a challenging conversation. ‘The failure was all Ruth’s, I can assure you.’

Kim fixed her with that disarming stare. ‘But that’s what I don’t understand. Either you deliberately chose a form of treatment that you knew would inspire her to take the action she did, or you made a mistake in carrying out that exercise. Either way, you are partially responsible for the subsequent events. Do you not agree, Doctor?’

Alex sighed deeply. ‘Have suspects committed suicide in police holding cells?’

Kim nodded.

‘Why? How has that been possible?’

Kim said nothing.

‘Putting a suspect in custody is part of your judicial process and so you do it. You cannot know that an individual will take that opportunity to end his life. If you did, you would not do it.’

‘Perhaps you would if you wanted to see the reaction.’

‘A person who has dedicated their life to the mental health profession would have no interest in patients as subject matter.’

For the first time, Kim smiled. ‘Noticeably delivered in the third person.’

Disappointingly, Alex felt the first stages of boredom setting in.

‘Okay, Kim. I would not use my knowledge and expertise in such a way.’

Kim paused and tipped her head. ‘Hmm … your dead sister would tend to disagree.’

Alex was momentarily surprised by the mention of Sarah. Communication between Kim and her sister was not something she had factored in – she preferred to keep her games separate. However, she recovered her composure quickly.

‘My sister and I are not close. She is not a credible source on my professional life.’

‘Really? Your letters to her indicate that you like to keep her abreast of your patients’ progress.’

Alex felt tension seep into her neck. How dare that spineless little bitch interfere with her life?

‘In fact, she feels that you’ve been torturing and harassing her for years.’

Alex tried to smile the tension from her jaws. ‘Jealousy is a very ugly trait. When you have siblings there is always a competitiveness that emerges. I have been very successful in my career. My IQ is superior and I was favoured as a child, so you see, she has many motives for being bitter.’

Kim nodded her understanding. ‘Yes, she talked in great detail about your childhood together. We talked about your differing views on pet care.’

It took all of Alex’s energy not to groan out loud. Jesus, had the pathetic little creature still not forgotten that one little incident?

Alex didn’t like being wrong-footed. She’d never enjoyed surprises as a child, and when cornered, her defences turned to attack. Alex was about to hit the fast forward button.

‘Oh, Kim, family relationships are such complicated things. If Mikey hadn’t died right beside you, you would know these things, but unfortunately for you, your childhood abuse and neglect has left you with much more than survivor guilt. You are …’

‘You know nothing about …’

Alex was rewarded by emotion blazing in the woman’s eyes.

‘Oh, but I do,’ Alex said, pleasantly. ‘I know a lot about you. I know that your pain didn’t end once you escaped your mother. There are probably things that happened in those foster homes that you have never shared with anyone.’

‘I see you’ve done your homework, Doctor. Ten out of ten.’

Alex heard the shift in the woman’s voice and knew that she’d hit a nerve.

‘Oh but I always like to get top marks, Kim. I know that the only validation you get is through your work. I know that your life is solitary and that you are emotionally cold. When your personal space is violated you feel suffocated and have to free yourself. Your relationships are based on your own terms or not at all.’

The colour was fading from the detective’s cheeks. But Alex fancied another twist of the knife.

‘At any moment you could fall into the blackness that follows you every minute of every day. I know there are days when you are tempted to loosen that grip and allow yourself to be swallowed by your own mind.’

Alex stopped herself. She wanted to say more but she’d done enough to make her point. The rest would come later.

She reached for her handbag and stood. ‘Until the next time, Detective Inspector.’

The black eyes bore into her with pure hatred. Alex felt gratified and couldn’t resist one last dig.

As she passed the back of Kim’s chair, she swooped in and kissed Kim on the cheek.

‘Oh, and Kimmy, Mummy said hi.’

FIFTY-SEVEN

Kim let herself back into the house, the meeting still ringing in her ears. She had run two red lights and overtaken anything that had stood in her way. The recklessness had not exorcised the rage from her body and the urge to hurt something remained.

‘Fuck that fucking woman,’ she shouted, throwing her jacket at the coffee table. A magazine and two spark plugs skidded to the floor.

Barney walked towards her, wagging his tail, seemingly impervious to her mood.

‘If you know what’s good for you, stay out of my way,’ she advised.

Barney followed her into the kitchen as though he knew he was in no danger from her. And he was right.

Barney reacted with the same enthusiasm he did every time she came home. A few tail wags and then he sat in front of the second cupboard door: the food cupboard.

Kim switched on the kettle and sat at the dining table. She had considered stepping into the garage but her mind was still ablaze with questions.

Barney sat and leaned against her leg the same way he had when she’d visited his old master. But this time her hand found its way to the top of his head. He remained still beneath the stroking movement of her palm.

She admitted that not all of her anger was aimed at the doctor.

Never had she felt so constricted. Two cases were constantly moving out of her grasp.

The private life of Leonard Dunn had been evaluated countless times. They had interviewed hundreds of people during the initial investigation that had led to his arrest and now they were chasing a ghost. Everyone was a potential suspect and, with dread, she knew what she had to do.