The Vows of Silence: A Chief Superintendent Simon Serrailler Mystery by Susan Hill

Author:Susan Hill [HILL, SUSAN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC022000, FIC022020, FIC030000
ISBN: 9781590208212
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2011-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Forty-one

Lois was there as ever on night-duty reception. Lois, pleased to see her and ready with a warm hug of welcome.

But then Jane caught her expression. ‘I’m too late,’ she said.

‘Yes. Karin died about an hour ago.’

Jane sat down. She felt tired, cold and frustrated. The storms had caused such appalling delays and rerouting that she was here at ten when she should have made it by five.

‘Come into the kitchen, I’ll make you a hot drink. Have you eaten?’

‘No, but I’m not hungry. I should go and see her.’

‘Have this first. No hurry now.’

No. No hurry. Karin had waited for her as long as she could but Jane had let her down. It was not her fault, of course it was not, but she felt guilty nevertheless.

The fluorescent lights hummed as Lois switched them on and poured water into the kettle.

‘Poor Jane. Nothing more upsetting.’

‘I wanted to be with her. She wanted me to be with her.’

‘I know.’ She did not give out false comfort. Lois was a realist.

She set down a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits. ‘Dunk one,’ she said, ‘I know you said you weren’t hungry but somehow a dunked biscuit always goes down.’

It was true. Jane followed her out to the reception foyer. From the far end of the corridor she heard murmured voices, saw a light. A door closed.

‘Do you know about Dr Deerbon?’ Lois asked, back behind her computer.

‘Yes, Cat told me. I was hoping to see her but I can’t very well go up to the farmhouse at this time of night.’

‘I should think you of all people probably could. Why don’t you ring now?’

Jane hesitated.

‘She might be glad of it, you know.’

‘Has she heard about Karin?’

‘Not my place to ring her.’

Jane wondered what she could say to Cat, out of the blue, at ten thirty at night. Looked at Lois. Lois nodded.

‘Look, go into the relatives’ room, I’ll switch the phone through.’

It was picked up on the second ring.

‘It’s Jane,’ she said. ‘I’m at Imogen House.’

Ten minutes later she was sitting beside Karin McCafferty. The nurses had not yet moved her body, though the syringe pump and drip stand had been taken away. The lamp was on. They had closed the door.

Karin looked like a moth under the bedclothes, her skin fine, and almost transparent over the bones, her hair brushed and tied back, lying on the slightly raised pillows. Jane took her cool hand and put it to her own cheek.

‘I know you won’t blame me, but I should have been here. I wish I had been. I’m sorry.’ Karin’s eyelids were faintly blue, like those of a newborn baby. She was beautiful in death, as she had been in life, but remote. Sometimes, Jane had been with the dying and the newly dead and had had a powerful sense of their presence. But not now. Karin was as far away as it was possible to be and had left no trace of herself behind.

Half an hour later,

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