by KERRY BARNES
By the time Thomas had returned to his wife, which was inevitable, Kara was living at home before going off to university. She tolerated her mother for the simple reason she still needed to learn about medicine and diseases. Vic was right when she said, ‘She knows how to make ya better, so she will know how ta kill ya.’
She recalled that Joan had pulled out all the stops and arranged a birthday party for her twenty-first. Of course, it was all through guilt and shame, but little did Joan know that, come what may, she could never make up for the terror she’d caused her daughter by allowing Thomas Grey into their home. Joan secretly invited the girls from her dormitory and her own friend’s children, one of them being best friends with Justin.
As soon as Kara clapped eyes on Justin, she fell deeply in love. She’d never loved anyone before and the feeling was overwhelming. His beaming smile, loose locks, and round open eyes had sucked her in, easing the bitterness she felt towards her mother. She never told Justin how she really felt about her mother because the truth was he was a real family man and would never have understood her hating her own mother. She wasn’t brave enough to tell him or anyone about her years of sexual abuse. Too ashamed and even in some ways feeling her own guilt as a child, she struggled to comprehend it, but as an adult, she knew exactly what Thomas Grey had done and that was to take from her her own precious childhood.
So that was how it was for many years. And as her relationship strengthened with Justin, she assumed it did between their mothers. It was a shame, really, because she loved Mollie more than Joan.
‘I never hated my mother!’ she spat back, to the surprise of Stuart, who had only seen the sweet, charming expression, which had obviously been a deliberate act.
‘You see, Miss Bannon, initially your mother’s death wasn’t ruled as suspicious. Clearly, you didn’t realise that your clever plan would ultimately backfire. And, Miss Bannon, if you had never voiced your concern to your lawyer, by mentioning the fact that you had tried to contact your mother, and if Stuart hadn’t discovered she’d been dead for months, Joan’s death would never have been investigated.’ He paused and waited for a reaction, but the stillness in her eyes told him she wasn’t about to confess; it was clear she was cunning and waiting to see what they had on her.
Then, unexpectedly, her lips curled to a thin sneer. ‘I wasn’t responsible for my mother’s death though, was I? I mean, I was in Papua New Guinea, working.’
Hamilton nodded and slowly opened the file in front of him. He retrieved a photocopy of a stamped immigration form and turned it around so that she could see it for herself. Kara’s eyes widened, as she saw the authorised flight list. There, clearly, was her name, along with five others, who had been on the small aircraft from Papua New Guinea to Melbourne.
Her eyes darted over the paper; it was too impossible to believe. How did she make such a crass error? There and then, she realised they had proof and there was no way out and her confident posture changed to that of a frightened child, forcing her words to tumble out. ‘No, listen, it’s not what you think. I was just visiting my mum. She was sick, I mean, she was dying. She begged me to visit her. I only went there for the day on a weekend. I was working hard in Papua New Guinea, really hard. We were trying to get to the bottom of the pigbel outbreak. I needed a break, I needed my mum … You have to believe me. I never killed my mother; it was her, Lucy. She was the one. It had to be. I would never kill anyone. I’m not violent. Please, you have to believe me. Ask the prison officers here. I would never hurt a living soul.’
The lawyer’s mouth was open; he just couldn’t comprehend that this young woman could change like a chameleon from a gentle and unassuming person to a dark and malevolent individual. For a second, he thought he had imagined her eyes cloud over with evil, but now, here she was, rambling with a sweet voice, begging to be believed. He wondered if he was going mad himself.
Hamilton nodded. ‘No, Miss Bannon, you are right. You would never be violent in the aggressive sense of the word, but you weren’t in Papua New Guinea fighting some outbreak, were you?’
Her eyes shot a terrified look from Stuart back to Hamilton, and a dramatic tremor forced her head to nod rhythmically, as her heart rate increased. Surely, they didn’t know the truth?
Stuart searched her face; he wondered if Hamilton had got it wrong. Kara looked so helpless and traumatised; she didn’t look capable of harming a flea. He must have imagined that creepy look. He was tired and perhaps his mind was playing tricks.
‘No, Miss Bannon, you were in Papua New Guinea to retrieve the batch of drugs that had been wrongly dispatched. This was a drug that was supposed to save lives, but actually, it would have the opposite effect and with catastrophic consequences. That’s true, isn’t it?’
Her eyes like saucers, she didn’t respond.
‘You were there to mop up the mess made by the company. In fact, it was your own incompetence in the first place that led to the okay being given to that particular batch being shipped out. You were on a written warning for such a huge mistake that could have cost many lives.’
He paused and lowered his bitter voice. ‘We have spoken with Professor Luken and he confirmed exactly what happened. You also knew that the drug itself wouldn’t be detected after death, so a coroner would never be searching the blood samples for it. The unsuspecting culprit would have died from liver and kidney failure, and on the surface, it would have been quite plausible, particularly in a woman riddled with arthritis and having taken huge doses of all sorts to stop the pain. Apparently, her liver would have shown signs of possible failure, but, of course, Miss Bannon, you would know that.’
Kara’s mind was in turmoil. The information was correct, but there was no way they could accuse her of poisoning her mother. The drugs used would kill the parasite, but the batch she had overseen – the particular one that had been filled in the wrong proportions, containing an active ingredient that had been added a hundred times over its acceptable dose – had been dispatched at her say-so.
In her rush to get home, she tested the wrong batch number. She never intended to cause harm, and it wasn’t until after the weekend, when she carried the empty vials to the disposal unit, that she realised the batch number didn’t match the one on the test sheet. In a fit of panic, she got to work testing the correct one, a routine analysis that lasted two days, and in that time, she held her breath and waited.
To her dismay, her world came crashing down around her. The rats that she’d administered the drug to were now all dead. Shockingly, a further examination showed that the drug contained extremely high doses of the active substance and was therefore toxic to humans. The drug was undetectable, unless, of course, the pathology department would have known what to look for, and there was no way that could have happened. The drug itself was an orphan drug not designed for the masses but just a few select patients – those in Papua New Guinea who had contracted the parasite from the pigs that would cause their intestines to swell to the size of sausages and die the most horrendous and unforgiving death. The drugs used would kill the parasite and make the patients better but only if the correct vaccine was used.
She remembered her manager looking at her in complete horror and leaping from his seat. She could still recall his words, which remained stuck in her head. He’d said, ‘If just one person dies from your stupid mistake, I will personally see to it you never work in a lab again.’ She was on the next flight to Papua New Guinea, and luckily for her, the box of capsules hadn’t even left the holding bay. Rather than fly her back to England, the professor demanded she stayed there and work with the team for a few weeks. She thought perhaps it was a punishment, being forced to stay in a developing country rather than being allowed to come home.
‘It’s lucky that the coroner kept samples of your mother’s blood, and with the evidence we had, he could test for that very same drug, and, lo and behold, it was there and in high doses too.’ He stopped and sighed. ‘There’s only one person in the world who coul
d have given it to her and that, Miss Bannon, is you.’
The silence was long, as they waited. Her eyes fell away from theirs to stare at the flight list, and his words circled her mind like a swarm of bees, pricking every means of finding a way out.
Her voice was a mere whisper, as she grappled to save herself. ‘No, you’ve got it wrong. Lucy was there. She could have …’ Unsure of what to say, her words trickled to nothing.
Hamilton smiled. ‘Ahh, yes, Lucy, and yes, you are right in so much as Lucy was looking after your mother. You see, Lucy had found out where Joan lived, and her desperate, wayward character meant that she stole money from a Mr Carl Meadows to go and visit the person she believed was her mother. When she arrived, she was horrified to find Joan so poorly, and so she spent three months nursing her without letting Joan know who she really was, and yes, she admitted that she did have revengeful thoughts towards you.’
Kara choked. ‘What revengeful thoughts, though, and why me? She was the one who had a happy life. She wasn’t alone, not like me.’
‘Lucy remembered you as a baby and how Joan took you away, leaving her behind. She hated you, even blamed you for Joan leaving. Then she came across letters from Joan, telling your father how beautiful and wonderful you were, describing the holidays, even enclosing snapshots of you and her on a beach holiday. It sent her on a downward spiral and her hate turned to anger. She admitted she wanted your life.’
‘See, she’s dangerous …’
‘Miss Bannon, I went to Australia. In fact, I spent weeks there, gathering information—’
‘But you’re not even a real detective!’ she interrupted. She decided then to shut up, realising how pathetic she sounded, gripping at any float to stop herself from sinking.
‘I am a real detective, Miss Bannon, but that’s not the point. As I was saying, I spent weeks there, and it is true Lucy did spend months in Melbourne. She cared very deeply for your mother. The nurses and the doctors recall how well she’d done her job. It was one that required a lot of patience. However, there was a weekend when Lucy took time out for herself and met a young man and stupidly found herself pregnant. Yes, she has admitted that her son is not in fact Justin’s child. A bit like you, really, she knows about drugs, but her knowledge is confined to illegal ones rather than pharmaceuticals. Nevertheless, and this is the interesting point, when Lucy returned after her night away partying, she found Joan very poorly, lying in her bed. She assumed Joan was hallucinating because she’d said that you, Miss Bannon, had paid her a visit.’
Kara screwed her nose up. ‘Yes, I did, like I said, but I never killed her.’
‘She also said that on the bedside cabinet there was a bottle of cold fruit juice. Joan asked her to pour her another drink because she was burning up. The air conditioning wasn’t working. It had in fact been unplugged. Lucy poured the cold juice into a glass, and before Joan put it to her lips, Lucy took a few sips herself, trying to rid herself of a dry mouth from all the drink she’d consumed over the weekend. A short time later, Joan passed away and Lucy felt ill, although she recovered. She did, however, go to the hospital and blood was taken which confirmed she was pregnant. That blood sample has also been tested, and it showed small traces of the very same drug that killed your mother. Sadly, the drug remains in the system for a very long time and would affect an unborn child.’
‘But what about Lucy’s part in all of this? I mean, she pretended that Justin was the father of her child. You said she’d drugged him—’
Breaking in, Hamilton leaned forward. ‘Lucy never murdered anyone. In fact, Miss Bannon, without the messages on the phone, we would never have known the full truth. You see, Lucy kept the phone with all the messages – and I mean all of them. They included the ones that your mother had sent you. Lucy admitted she made phone calls to you too, which was done, in her sick way, to dig the knife in. Looking at all the facts, it is very clear what your intentions were. You would have left things as they were, your mother dead and cremated, with no comebacks to you, but this is where you messed up, Miss Bannon. You see curiosity can get to the best of us. There’s a saying “curiosity killed the cat”. When you received a call from the person you presumed was the carer, after you believed you had killed your mother, you were rattled. You mentioned to Stuart that the conversation had been eerie.’
He paused and looked at Stuart, who nodded to confirm the fact.
‘I don’t blame you for wanting to get to the bottom of it. I mean, there you are, Miss Bannon, believing your mother is dead, and out of the blue, you receive a call from your mother’s phone asking about Justin. With everything that happened, you didn’t have a chance to return that call until you were in prison, and that’s when the same woman told you she was having Justin’s baby. Of course, you wanted answers, and being in prison left you only one choice and that was to have Stuart investigate. On the face of it, it looked very probable that the person at the end of the phone, Lucy, did kill Joan. The evidence initially pointed that way. You are intellectually bright, Miss Bannon, there’s no disputing that, but Lucy is deviously clever, and by unwittingly keeping a box full of evidence, she managed to prove her innocence.’
‘But …’ It was over: reality hit her in the face. Yes, she was shrewd in the world of science but not so sharp when it came to technology. She had deleted the texts between her mother and herself, including the part that said, It was so good to see you, my darling daughter, please visit again soon. Lucy, however, kept the sent message on Joan’s phone.
Kara, in her naivety and planning, had assumed her mother had passed away. But very cleverly, as she’d thought, she’d left messages that implied she still believed her mother was alive, so that at some point, if there was any suspicion, Kara wouldn’t be implicated.
‘After my conversation with Lucy, it was apparent that she had no idea you had visited and did assume it was just mad ramblings from a sick woman, but a while later, she saw the messages. Even in her devious mind, she never imagined that you, Miss Bannon, would have murdered Joan,’ said Williams.
‘No, but she is bad. Look what she did to me. She took Justin away from me, making me burn the house down.’
That devilish expression plastered across her face made Stuart almost wince. He pursed his lips, her voice now irritating him. ‘You, Kara, killed your own mother before you even knew that Lucy had plans to steal him away from you,’ he huffed. ‘Don’t get me wrong. We all know that Lucy is very manipulative and has an extensive criminal record, but it never included murder. She has already admitted that she took the solicitor’s letter and copied the heading and typed out her own version that stated you needed to vacate the house, and so, yes, maybe she did have a part to play when you decided to burn the house down. However, the poor woman lost a baby of her own a few years ago. She is a product of circumstance, brought up by a father who worked long hours. With no mother in the house, she tried to find her own way in life and failed at every turn.’
He shook his head, sickened by the fact that Kara had managed to manipulate him. He had gone well beyond his role as a barrister to help Kara, strongly believing she was sincere and shouldn’t be in prison – how wrong he was.
Kara leaned forward, placed her elbows on the table, and clasped her forehead with her hands, shielding her eyes.
DI Hamilton rolled the beige stone ring under Kara’s nose. As her eyes fell to the object, she could see the inside and the name “Kara” engraved.
‘My mother’s ring.’
‘Yes and no, Miss Bannon. The very sad thing is Joan was not your birth mother or Lucy’s. She took you away from Lucy for your own safety. Les Fairmount, your father, couldn’t handle both of you because Lucy was a danger. He was worried that Lucy would in some way hurt you. So, Joan unselfishly took you on as her own and adopted you, but, yes, this is her ring.’
With wide eyes and her mouth open, Kara glared in disbelief. ‘So, where is my real mother, then?’ she snapped.
Hamilton shook his h
ead. ‘Probably where you should be, in a mental institution because, Miss Bannon, we are also investigating the possible murder of Thomas Grey, which may very well implicate you!’ He waited for a reaction, to give any clue or even a possible confession.
Her eyes widened and her body stiffened up. It was an expression of myriad elements they hadn’t seen before. Her face darkened and she looked terrified, as if she was paralysed to the spot, staring at a ghost, her mouth locked in an oval shape.
‘Lucy informs us that she found a letter from your mother addressed to you and attached was a solicitor’s note. It acknowledges that she’d sadly let you down in your early teenage years and has sealed the truth behind the death of Thomas Grey. The letter is held with her lawyer in Australia. At this time, we are seeking a copy of the letter, since Lucy lost what was apparently a handwritten note. We will also be looking into his death. So, is there anything you wish to tell us on this matter?’
Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed in resignation. Her mind was now off to a safe place where no one could hurt her – it was in a book, a child’s magical wonderland story, with fairies and pixies, not monsters and demons.
‘Miss Kara Bannon, you are under arrest for the murder of Joan Bannon.’
Chapter 23
Six months later
Deni placed her arm around Kara’s shoulders. ‘Now you listen to me, my babe. Keep yourself together. This Stuart guy wouldn’t be representing you, if he didn’t believe in you. He ain’t about to sell you down the river, it wouldn’t do his reputation any good.’
‘I know what you’re saying, Deni, but you didn’t see the look of hurt on his face, that day the detective charged me with murder.’
‘Well, of course, he’s gonna be knocked sideways. Bleedin’ hell, I was, when I heard the news. I know you, Kara. I’ve spent many years inside to know the real nutters of this world, and I also know a genuine woman when I meet one. I get why you did what you did, and if the truth be known, anyone else would have done the bloody same, if they had the guts. That, my girl, is the difference. But you tried to be a little too clever about it, and that, I’m afraid, disturbs people and makes it a concern. Now, if you had knifed them both while they slept, everyone would be patting you on the back.’