Let the Dead Speak (Maeve Kerrigan #7)

‘And so you are?’

‘Maeve Kerrigan. I’m a detective sergeant.’

‘And you’re investigating a murder. Kate Emery.’

‘That’s right.’

‘I’m surprised that you want to see me.’ She blinked a couple of times, inviting me to explain.

‘It’s not directly connected with what happened to Kate – background information, really. Do you remember seeing Chloe as a patient when she was five or six?’

‘Oh yes. I remember it very well, and I remember Kate. I saw them four or five times.’ She sighed. ‘Poor woman. I read about it in the paper but I didn’t realise it was her until yesterday. The name – I recognised it but I couldn’t quite remember her. Then I checked my files when Georgia rang me, and of course it all came back.’

‘Was there something in particular that made them stand out?’

She hesitated, flexing and rubbing her small hands as if they were stiff or cold. ‘Well, every child is different, and every parent is different. That’s the first thing to know. So there’s no typical family that walks through my door for help. Some people are very accepting and positive. Some people want me to be wrong about their child. They get angry when they hear a diagnosis. It’s understandable.’

‘Was Kate angry?’

‘She was when she came. She was annoyed that people weren’t taking her seriously. I remember her sitting in your chair while Chloe played in the corner here. She had tears in her eyes, talking about how she’d struggled on Chloe’s behalf.’

It felt strange to think of Kate sitting exactly where I was, in a room that probably hadn’t changed much in twelve years. A large wooden doll’s house stood in the corner Raina indicated. The furniture inside was jumbled up, the dolls upside down or poking out of the windows. I imagined a small Chloe playing with it while her mother talked about her, complained, wept a little. Would the child have noticed? Or would it all have gone over her head?

‘Is that normal?’

‘Oh yes. Many people find it hard to get the system to acknowledge their child’s needs. It can be frustrating.’

‘So why did Kate stand out?’

‘It was a combination of things.’ Raina smoothed her skirt, pursing her lips. Lines fanned out from her mouth. I couldn’t begin to guess her age but she looked at least seventy at that moment. ‘Do you know Chloe’s medical history?’

‘No.’

‘It was a difficult birth. A forceps delivery, in the end. Chloe was in neonatal intensive care for some time afterwards. Birth trauma can have a permanent effect on a child, or it can kill, or it can have a negligible impact. Kate was very concerned about Chloe’s development, always, and she felt the medical establishment were much too casual about the effect of the traumatic birth on her child. She was a nurse, you see, so she was familiar with how doctors and nurses spoke about patients, and parents. She didn’t trust any of them.’

‘Was she right to be concerned about Chloe?’

Raina pulled a face. ‘It’s hard to say. By the time I saw her she was certainly struggling with gross and fine motor skills. She found it difficult to communicate and to concentrate. She struggled to make eye contact. She was very shy and lacking in confidence as well as social skills. But I wasn’t sure that it was attributable to the traumatic birth. Kate wanted to find labels for Chloe’s condition. She had done a lot of research and she wanted me to say that Chloe was going to be permanently affected by what had happened to her. Chloe was … borderline. I believe that’s what I said in my report.’

‘Why would she want you to say Chloe was more incapacitated?’ Georgia asked.

‘Because of money. You can claim extra funding with a firm diagnosis. But also because sometimes parents just want someone else to see what they see. And sometimes it’s to know why. If you know why your child isn’t what we think of as normal, you can be angry about that specific thing. If you can’t find any specific reason for your child to be different from other children, you might worry that it was your fault.’ Raina frowned. ‘With Kate, though, it was almost an obsession.’

‘Did you ever meet Brian Emery, Chloe’s dad?’

‘Never. I asked if he could sit in on what turned out to be our last session but he didn’t come. Kate told me he was in denial about Chloe’s condition. I felt – and I may have been misjudging her – that she didn’t want him there. She was traditional about it. She had given up work as soon as Chloe’s problems became apparent. I remember her saying it was Brian’s job to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, and it was her job to cook the food and look after Chloe.’ Raina shrugged. ‘Old-fashioned. I told her she was selling herself short and she didn’t like that at all.’

‘Was that why they stopped coming?’

‘They didn’t come to an appointment one day. I called, left messages. No answer. Then I got a letter from another practitioner saying he had taken Chloe on as a patient and asking for my notes. That was that. I hoped Kate found what she was looking for.’

‘So you thought it was more about Kate’s needs than Chloe’s,’ I said.

‘Definitely. She needed Chloe to need her. I had the impression that she enjoyed the attention she got because of Chloe being as she was. Ordinary wasn’t good enough for her. She wanted extraordinary, even if it was in a negative sense of the word.’ Raina sighed. ‘Most parents want their children to be normal. To fit in. Kate was the opposite.’

‘But she wanted Chloe to stay in mainstream education.’

‘Yes, she did. You see, if Chloe had been in a special school, she wouldn’t have stood out at all. In a mainstream school, with neurotypical children, she was the centre of attention. So much pity from the other parents, so much kindness, so much help when she needed it.’ Raina narrowed her eyes, looking very wise. ‘Kate was very good at appearing to be helpless, when she was really quite a capable person.’

‘Would you describe her as manipulative?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’ Raina smiled. ‘That’s not always a bad thing. Many very successful people are able to influence other people’s behaviour.’

‘And in Kate’s case?’

The smile held for a second, then disappeared. ‘In Kate’s case, I was concerned. I wrote back to the psychologist who took over from me, confidentially, to share with him my findings about Chloe. I told him that I felt Chloe was capable of more than Kate allowed. I felt it was likely to cause problems in their relationship as Chloe got older; that lack of independence, of freedom – it can suffocate, you know? It can cause resentment and heartache for no good reason. I wanted them to be able to rely on each other. It’s like two trees growing together.’ She knotted her fingers together. ‘It’s much better for them to be pruned so their branches don’t tangle. Then if one sickens or falls, the other can continue to thrive. But pruning is hard on the trees. If we asked them, they would prefer to be tangled together.’

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