Read Online The Godforsaken Daughter by Christina McKenna - Free Book Online

waited until closing time, thinking she’d be back. When she didn’t turn up I rang Betty. Look, I’ve been over all this with Constable Nelson. At the station. Is—”
    “Does she work full time?”
    “It depends. If there’s a production on, she’ll go in more often. If not, then she’ll work on private commissions and the pace is more relaxed.”
    “By private commissions, you mean what exactly?”
    “Oh, paintings, screen prints . . . for businesses, usually. Banks, public spaces . . . that kind of thing. She likes to work on large-scale projects.” He pointed to a substantial triptych on the far wall, which showed a picnic scene in the woods. “That kind of scale.”
    Sergeant Hanson left her chair to take a closer look.
    “She’s very talented. Where is this?”
    “Ravensdale, County Louth. We walked through it once and had a picnic. Connie took photographs. She’s a recorder; she rarely leaves home without her camera.”
    Hanson turned from her inspection of the triptych and resumed her seat. “Did she take it on this occasion?”
    “What?”
    “Her camera.”
    “Probably.”
    “You haven’t checked?”
    “No. It never occurred to me. I checked for her passport and her handbag. The camera is small and she usually keeps it in her handbag. That’s why I didn’t feel it necessary to do a separate search for it.”
    “Hmm . . . Does she have a best friend?”
    “No.”
    “No female friends?”
    “Well, there’s Geraldine, I suppose.”
    “You suppose ?”
    “Yes, from art-college days. They only meet three or four times a year.”
    “Did you call her? This Geraldine . . . er . . .”
    “Reynolds. Geraldine Reynolds. No, I didn’t call her.”
    “Why not?”
    “Firstly, it would seem highly unlikely that Connie would take a bus a hundred miles to Sligo to visit Geraldine without telling me first. And secondly, I wouldn’t dream of calling Geraldine, and so cause her unnecessary worry.”
    “Connie’s answerable to you in everything she does, then?”
    “No, not everything. Of course not. I find your line of questioning intrusive, Sergeant.” Henry was really irritated now.
    “Apart from her work at the studio, shopping, walking in Sir Thomas and Lady Dickson Park, visiting her sister, what other places might she be likely to frequent?”
    “We go to restaurants, but always together. Can’t imagine Connie wanting to eat out alone. She likes company.”
    “Your company?”
    “Yes, I’m her husband. It’s natural for a husband and wife to want to be together.”
    At that moment, Constable Lyle was heard coming down the stairs. He’d placed Connie’s diary in a cellophane bag and was holding something else.
    “Anything to report?” asked Hanson.
    “Apart from the diary, just this.” He handed her a bottle of pills.
    Hanson read the label. “Indalpine? Can you explain these, Dr. Shevlin?”
    “Yes, it’s an antidepressant. What of it? I’m a psychiatrist; medications sometimes find their way home with me. It doesn’t mean that either Connie or I are using them.”
    Sergeant Hanson set the bottle down in front of him.
    “If that’s the case, Dr. Shevlin, why is your wife’s name on the label and why are they dated to within the last fortnight?”
    Henry tried to hide his shock. He studied the small print on the label, noted that Boots, on Royal Avenue, had dispensed the medication ten days before. It was a central address, in the very heart of Belfast.
    “To be honest, Sergeant, I have no explanation. I had no idea Connie was taking these. None whatsoever.”
    “Good work, Lyle,” the sergeant said. She scribbled something at the back of her notebook and tore off the page. “My contact number, Dr. Shevlin.” She handed it to him. “That’s enough for now, I believe. But if you think of anything—anything at all—do not hesitate to call me. Honesty is always the best policy in affairs such as this. Always.”
    Henry showed them out, his mind in