19

‘Thank God for small mercies.’

There was some tonic water in the cupboard to dilute the contents of the bottle of gin I clutched to my chest. Too bad if it was an improper time of the day to start drinking. I’d make an exception on this occasion – lunchtime was as good a time as any to start anaesthetising my woes. I would, however, make some nod towards decency and pour my G & T into a glass rather than a beer jug.

I took a sip that ended at the bottom of the glass, then poured myself another. Then I stripped off my uniform and tossed it behind the sofa where I didn’t have to see it. It had suddenly made me feel very dirty. I couldn’t be stuffed putting on anything else, so plonked down on the sofa in my underwear and settled in for an afternoon of wallowing in misery. I wondered how much alcohol it would take to slip into a coma.

The sound of a key in the door disrupted my pity party.

‘Oh shit.’

‘Sam?’ Maggie’s voice filtered through the murk in my head.

‘Over here,’ I said, and held my glass up by way of showing her where I was ensconced. She took one look at me draped across the sofa, looking ever so elegant in my red undies and matching eyeballs, then came around and gave me an enormous hug.

‘So, it’s as bad as they said?’

‘It’s worse,’ I said before the question really registered. ‘Who said?’

‘I was rung at work and told you’d been thrown off the case and it might be a good idea if I came home.’

Who, I wondered, gave enough of a toss to ring Maggie? It certainly wouldn’t have been the Boss. But the fact that someone showed at least some level of concern for my welfare made me start snivelling again.

‘Who rang?’

‘They really didn’t want me to say.’

‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll just keep asking and pouting and whining until you do.’ I gave her my best doleful look and she shrugged her shoulders.

‘OK, OK, enough with the Bambi eyes, it was Paul Frost. He didn’t give me any details, just said he really thought you shouldn’t be alone.’

Paul Frost. That was unexpected. For all of his badgering, pigheaded rudeness, he must actually care.

‘So are you going to tell me what happened?’ But before I could open my mouth in reply she interrupted. ‘Hold that thought.’ She grabbed the gin bottle and confiscated it, taking it out to the kitchen. ‘How many of those have you had?’

‘You came home too early. I only got two into me.’

‘It’s too bloody early for that and it won’t help matters. I’m going to make a pot of coffee. Have you had lunch?’ I shook my head. ‘I’ll make you a toasted sandwich. Go get some clothes on, then we can sit down and talk about it.’

God, I loved my flatmate.

Once attired in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, I sat at the table and picked at the cheese and Vegemite toasted sandwich while Maggie poured very strong coffee into my mug.

‘They think I killed Gaby.’

The pouring stopped abruptly, then resumed. ‘Well, they must be mad.’

I managed a smile at the immediate vote of confidence.

‘I’m serious. I’m a suspect. They interrogated me. Oh God, Maggie, it was awful.’ Tears seeped out again.

‘Why would they think you a suspect?’

‘Oh, apparently I have motive. I was jealous enough of my ex’s wife to knock her off.’

Maggie reached out her hand and grabbed the teaspoon I was ting-ting-tinging against the tabletop. ‘Oh, I get it, because that would win him back, and all.’

‘Yeah, men love being fought over. Seriously, though, they truly believe I could have done this.’

Maggie pushed the coffee towards me, and then sat down with her own.

‘They must be clutching at straws. Did you tell them about Gaby having an affair with her doctor?’

‘Yes, and they’re going to check it out because they don’t really believe me.’ God, the thought of that irked. ‘I talked to Chrissie, and did you know that bastard of a doctor was blackmailing Gaby for sex? She didn’t want it, so he threatened to have Angel taken off her if she didn’t comply.’

A slosh of Maggie’s coffee hit the table. ‘He was doing what?’

‘You heard, blackmailing her.’

‘And they think you’ve got motive? That poor bloody woman.’

I thought about that statement and realised that I felt something other than resentment towards Gaby Knowes. I did feel sorry for her, for what she had endured in life and probably in death. Her world was not quite the fairy tale I’d envisioned.

‘What are you going to do?’ Maggie asked, mopping up the spill with some of my tissues.

‘What do you mean, what am I going to do?’

She gave me ‘the look’.

‘I’m going to get horribly drunk, cry some more, drink more, then, if I can walk that far, I’ll go to bed.’

‘Well, that’s a very grown-up approach.’

I didn’t appreciate the tone. ‘That’s easy for you to say. My career’s up the pole, people think I’m a killer and, at the end of the day, I could very well end up in jail. How the bloody hell am I supposed to take it?’

‘Well, that’s better, anyway.’

‘What’s bloody better?’

‘A bit of fight left in the old girl somewhere. Good to see.’

Maggie could always do that. Say the right flaming thing to get me focused again.

‘Bitch,’ I said, by way of compliment.

She flashed me her best smile.

‘You can make light of it all you want, but you know I’m in serious trouble.’

Maggie shook her head at my words. ‘No, Sam, you would be in serious trouble if you were guilty. Sure, you’re suspended, but they have to do that – it’s protocol. If they truly believed you were guilty, you wouldn’t be sitting here at home drinking coffee. You’d be warming a cell down at the station.’

Maggie was right. They’d have me under lock and key if they were that convinced. The gauge on my pity-o-meter clicked down a cog or two.

‘Even if they suspect you, it’s only until they can rule you out of the equation. No one at the station would want to believe you could be guilty of murder. I think they’d work pretty damned hard to prove it wasn’t you.’

I thought about Paul Frost phoning Maggie. Perhaps there were some people on my side. The coffee and company must have been working their magic: I was starting to feel a little more rational.

‘At least they’ve got a real suspect now – or two. They would have to seriously look at Dr Walden’s wife too. The microscope isn’t focused on just me any more.’

‘They have you to thank for that information, and they’ve kicked you off the case. That’s gratitude for you.’ Maggie reached over and pulled my plate away before I could mutilate the sandwich any further.

‘It wouldn’t be so bad if I was just off the case. I’m off the job. What the hell am I supposed to do?’

‘Can you go home to the farm for a few days, till this blows over?’

‘I’m not allowed to leave the area.’

Come to think of it, they hadn’t defined the word ‘area’. Mum and Dad weren’t that far away – only an hour. A bit of home comfort and TLC would be nice, though the inevitable parental interrogations wouldn’t be. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be wise to piss off the Boss over semantics at this delicate time.

‘I think it best I stay here. I’d rather be close to the powers that are deciding on my fate.’