Katerina Diamond - Truth or Die

‘Fine, Grey. Let’s just do some work.’

‘You don’t want to file a report on the mugging?’ Imogen said, wondering why Adrian was struggling to keep eye contact with her. What wasn’t he telling her?

‘Maybe later. What are we doing now?’

‘Well, we need to go and speak to Owen Sager’s parents. They live local-ish. See if they know why he killed himself. I already told DI Walsh we would head straight there this morning.’

‘We’d better get going then.’ He stood up.

She winced when she looked at his eye. The white was pooled with red, a subconjunctival haemorrhage. The lid was swollen and the bridge of his nose was also bruised. He had taken quite the thump. She wondered why he did it to himself, why he would go out looking for trouble. It wasn’t the first time he had turned up at work with a black eye or a broken rib.

‘Tell me the truth. Did you go out looking for a fight?’

‘Not this time, no.’ He walked out before she could respond.

His eye wasn’t the only thing that was bruised, so was his ego.

She grabbed the list of queries she had written about the Norris case and followed him outside. He was already sitting in the car, already smoking a cigarette. She waited outside for him to finish before getting in. Somehow, they had gone from their previous conversation to not speaking and she wasn’t even sure why. What had she said that upset him?

She handed him his sunglasses. ‘You’d better wear these when we speak to them; you look pretty bad.’

They got to Owen Sager’s house and knocked on the door. A woman answered immediately, a haunted look on her face, hollow and empty. She was in pain and you could feel it; she was transmitting her pain to anyone who would take some of it from her, release her from this burden. Imogen had seen it before in parents who had lost their children.

‘Mrs Sager?’ Imogen said.

‘Can I help you?’ Mrs Sager replied, an emptiness in her voice.

‘We’re currently working on a case that may or may not be connected to your son’s death. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering some questions?’ Imogen said.

‘What do you mean, connected?’ Mrs Sager asked, visibly surprised, pulled from her trancelike melancholy.

‘His philosophy professor, Doctor Norris, was murdered yesterday, which we believe was an anniversary of sorts,’ Adrian said.

‘I found my son exactly three months ago yesterday.’ Mrs Sager looked down and Imogen noticed she was holding a small piece of fabric in her hands, like a comforter. Probably something of Owen’s.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. There probably is no connection, but it warrants a discussion,’ Imogen said.

‘What’s left to discuss?’ Mrs Sager scrunched the fabric in her closed fist.

‘Did your son give you any indication as to what he was stressed about?’ Adrian asked.

‘He seemed happy. I thought he was OK.’ Her eyes widened, letting even more emptiness in.

‘Nothing changed in the days before his …’ Adrian tailed off.

‘Suicide,’ Imogen finished. They had been told in plenty of seminars how important it was not to mince your words around families of grieving victims. Don’t use words like passed away, say dead. Make it real.

‘Yes, he had begun to act erratically in the weeks before, but I thought it was just all the extra work he was having to do. The police told me that it was probably depression. He may have planned his suicide for some time. He never said there was anything wrong.’ She pulled at the edges of the fabric again.

‘This is not your fault in any way, Mrs Sager,’ Imogen said.

‘I wish I could help more. I’m sorry,’ she said, her eyes glassy and her voice fragmented.

‘You’ve been a great help,’ Adrian offered.

‘Did he ever talk about Doctor Norris?’ Imogen asked.

‘He really liked him, at least he did at first, talked about him all the time.’

‘That changed?’ Imogen pressed.

‘Now that you mention it, it did a little. I guess, as the time went on, the work got harder and Owen lost his shine for Doctor Norris. I just didn’t really think about it.’

‘Did they fall out?’ Adrian asked.

‘No, Doctor Norris was nothing but kind to Owen. Owen got in because Doctor Norris endorsed his application to the university even though he didn’t quite get the correct grades, and he also sent a letter recommending Owen for a full scholarship. He got turned down, but he did get a twenty per cent reduction in fees. Which was great.’

‘So, they had a close relationship, then?’ Imogen asked.

‘I know it sounds a bit unconventional, but Owen was so worried about starting at the uni, especially with his lower than average score, and Doctor Norris was really kind to him and took him under his wing. Before you say anything, there was nothing seedy going on. He was just a nice man.’

Adrian and Imogen’s phones went off simultaneously. Imogen pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen. A text alert from the DCI. She wanted them at the hospital immediately.

‘Thank you, Mrs Sager, we had best be going now,’ Imogen said. ‘Here’s my card, call us if you think of anything.’ Imogen put her card in the palm of Mrs Sager’s hand and closed both hands around it. ‘So sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you, dear.’ She attempted to smile and stepped back into the house, closing the door behind her.

Adrian blew his cheeks out, obviously feeling the woman’s pain. ‘God, I can’t even imagine,’ he said.

‘Let’s get to the hospital,’ Imogen said, knowing full well that Adrian could imagine it – his son had come close to being killed in a previous case and it almost destroyed him.

They got back in the car and made their way across town to meet the DCI. Imogen couldn’t help looking at the scrapes on his knuckles and wondering if he was telling the truth about being mugged. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had shown up to work with unexplained cuts and bruises. She reminded herself he had no reason to lie. Did he?

Adrian couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Mrs Sager’s face. He remembered back to the time recently when he’d thought his own son was dead, and the visceral memory of the way he’d felt, even for the briefest of times, was enough to make him want to throw up. But to live in that state, to know that you would never see your child again – that would be too much for Adrian. He wasn’t sure he would even want to carry on.

The hospital was busy, and by the time they found DI Walsh, visiting hours had begun. DI Matt Walsh stood with his arms folded, staring ahead of him. Adrian couldn’t help but look at Imogen’s face as they approached him, to see if he could work out what she was thinking. She had seemed preoccupied with finding out more about the new DI and for some reason that annoyed Adrian. He couldn’t admit to himself that he was feeling jealous.