Heathen/Nemesis

Six

‘What are you trying to say?’ Donna demanded angrily.

‘I’m not trying to say anything, Mrs Ward. You merely asked me for some information and I gave it to you,’ Mackenzie told her.

‘I want to see her,’ Donna said flatly.

‘That’s impossible, Mrs Ward.’

‘You could be wrong about her. It might not be Suzanne Regan. I’ve seen her; I could identify her.’

‘That’s already been done. Her brother confirmed it earlier.’

There was an awkward silence, which was finally broken by Donna.

‘Why was she carrying his credit cards?’

‘We don’t know that, Mrs Ward,’ Mackenzie said, almost apologetically.

‘What else did you find in her bag? Anything that belonged to my husband?’ There was a trace of anger in her voice now.

‘I can’t disclose information like that, Mrs Ward.’

‘Was there anything else?’

‘There was a photo of your husband in Miss Regan’s purse, and we found two letters from your husband to Miss Regan in her bag as well.’

‘Where are they?’ Donna demanded.

‘Her brother took them. He took all her belongings with him.’

‘And my husband? Did he have anything of hers?’

‘Not as far as we can tell. There was a card - it looks like a business card - in his wallet, but it was blank apart from a phone number and the initial S written on it.’

‘Suzanne,’ she hissed, her jaws clenched.

The silence descended again and Donna sat back in the chair. Her mind was spinning. First dread, then shock, now confusion. What was next? What other revelations were to be revealed to her?

Why had Suzanne Regan been in the car with him?

Why had she had his photo in her bag? Why was she carrying his credit cards?

Why?

Letters. From Ward to her.

She raised a hand to her face once more, covering her eyes.

‘I will need to speak to you again, Mrs Ward,’ Mackenzie said. ‘Once everything has been taken care of.’

‘You mean after the funeral,’ she said, quietly.

‘I’ll be in touch.’ He moved towards the door, pausing before he left. ‘I’m very sorry.’ And he was gone.

‘I want to go home,’ Donna said, her voice quivering. She sounded like a child, a lost child. And lost she most certainly was. She felt more alone than she could ever remember.