CHAPTER 20

After she left Sue’s, Barb walked down to the bay and out to the end of the jetty. The hill behind her hid the late afternoon sun, so she was able to stare out into the bay without squinting.

Had she solved the mystery of Joe’s death? She tried to think it through as a pelican glided peacefully past, unperturbed by the drama that had recently engulfed Bullford Point. Maybe it had its own problems. Relationship break-up, insomnia, fish shortage, aching wing. Who knew?

After a few minutes, Barb texted Seb and waited for his reply. When the photo came, she looked closely at it and then walked back to Sue’s, where she found her friend, still slumped in her armchair, looking exhausted. Having a daughter herself, one who had thankfully had a relatively trouble-free passage through life so far, Barb could imagine how hard the last few years must have been on Sue.

Or could she? Perhaps you could never properly understand the problems of others, because when you tried to, you usually just thought about them for a couple of minutes and then moved on to something else. Whereas Leanne’s problems would be continually running around Sue’s head all day, every day, wearing her down.

‘You said you left Joe a syringe,’ said Barb. ‘Where did you get it from?’

‘Why?’

‘Just tell me.’

‘Online. Can’t remember.’

‘Can you find a picture of it?’

‘Probably.’

‘Quick sticks, then.’

Sue didn’t move.

‘It didn’t happen the way you think,’ said Barb. ‘Joe didn’t succumb to temptation, because that doesn’t explain everything else: his teeth, the belt, injecting into his elbow, his pyjamas, the sheets or the spare key. I think Joe was murdered. Let’s find out if the syringe that was next to his bed was the one you left him, or a different one.’

Sue blinked, heaved herself up and led Barb into a messy cell-like office containing a filing cabinet, chair and desk, upon which sat a laptop and lots of papers. Barb hovered over her as she searched her emails. She opened an order confirmation that showed a picture of a syringe.

‘Can you enlarge it?’ Barb asked.

Sue did, and Barb compared it to the picture Seb had sent of the syringe found in Joe’s room.

‘They’re different. Yours is shorter and wider. The syringe that injected Joe wasn’t the one you left for him.’

Sue looked uncomprehendingly up at her.

‘Do you think Joe didn’t like the syringe you left him?’ asked Barb. ‘So when he decided to use your heroin, he went to all the trouble of getting a different one?’

Sue’s eyes widened.

‘Has Leanne ever been picky about what sort of syringe she uses?’ asked Barb.

Sue shook her head.

‘Getting a syringe isn’t like buying a new shirt, where it has to look just right,’ said Barb. ‘It’s like buying a hammer. Who cares what it looks like, as long as it does the job? He didn’t use your heroin. He saw your welcome home present, he didn’t want it, and he threw it out.’

‘So I didn’t …’

‘You tempted him. But he resisted. I get why you did it, but it was a bad thing to do. Then, later on, someone killed him using a different syringe and different heroin.’

Sue dropped her head and her chest heaved. Barb put her hand gently on her shoulder.

As she walked home, Barb felt relieved Sue wasn’t responsible for Joe’s death. On the other hand, she was back to square one. What next? Joe’s funeral tomorrow. A sad day. She wondered if his killer would be there.