The Darkest Place by Jo Spain

Author:Jo Spain [Spain, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786483980
Publisher: Quercus
Published: 2018-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

The worst thing about Edward Lane was his inability to respect personal body space. The former chemist had chosen to live in the middle of nowhere, completely alone. Yet here he was, practically sitting on Ray’s lap, as the detective sergeant attempted to interview him.

Ray had taken up position on the two-seater in the small sitting room, assuming the house’s owner would take the couch across from it. But Lane had planted himself beside Ray, giving him the full effect of the rancid, stale breath that blew out from behind rotten teeth. There was no offer of tea or coffee, nothing that would have meant Lane getting up and Ray rearranging himself.

He was really getting the short stick in these interviews.

‘Howe was an uppity little chancer,’ Lane said, then broke into a hacking cough, wiping the accompanying phlegm with a filthy handkerchief. ‘Like all those doctors. Fancied himself God. Thought he knew everybody else’s job better than they did. Always sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted. All those doctors, you see, were assigned a specific number of patients. Enough to keep them all busy. Didn’t stop Howe from interfering in the treatment of others not in his care, I tell you.’

Ray was leaning back so far his spine hurt.

‘And eh, did he claim to know your job better than you?’ he asked.

‘Mm-hm. You know, I was older than the little puck? Just by a year. I’m seventy-three. You wouldn’t think it, would you? Ha! Anyway, it might have only been a year but it was probably by a few decades in cop-on, if you get my meaning. That Howe chancer would be under-prescribing for the patients and I was the senior chemist. I knew who needed what in that hospital. Took pride in it, I did. So I’d slip the right amount into the dosages. Well, he found out about it and kicked up a big fuss. We had a stand-up row, we did. Right in Boylan’s office.’

‘I see,’ Ray said. ‘When was this?’

The old man scratched his bristly chin, then coughed again.

‘H-ha!’ he spluttered. ‘Not the week he was murdered, if that’s what you’re getting at, boyo. It was a year or so before that. I kept my distance from him after that.’

‘Were you on the island when he disappeared?’

‘Mm. Didn’t bother to look for him, though. I didn’t give a pig’s fart where he was. I wasn’t the only one, either. There’s plenty who went out looking but weren’t too bothered about finding him.’

‘Oh? Like who? We’ve been given the impression Dr Howe was well liked.’

Lane leaned closer to Ray and the detective had to summon all his willpower not to heave when the chemist puffed out his cheeks inches from his face.

‘His best buddy, Collins. Did he tell you Howe was liked? Pah! Not by him, that’s for sure. And Collins was high as a kite that day. Bet he didn’t tell you that, either. He had a thing for the Tofranil. Had done since we introduced it on trial in the late fifties.

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