can’t have . . . ’ Rachel said nothing for a long moment. Then took a deep breath and spoke in a voice I could barely hear. ‘It was in her hand. The knife was in Abbie’s hand.’
*
I called Fiona. ‘Can you set up a meeting with Abbie’s psychiatrist. Please. We need to know more about this child.’
Patricia charged into the living room and stood staring at us, her fingers spread as if she was about to attack and claw us. ‘Rachel’s told me what she said to you. I told you she had problems. Abbie would never have killed Phil.’
I stood and touched her arm. ‘Would you sit down?’
Patricia pulled away. ‘I can’t sit down.’ She paced to the window and looked into the garden, then spun round to us. ‘You’ve got it wrong!’
‘Your daughter clearly thinks Abbie did it.’ That was Craig’s contribution, despite having agreed earlier that my feminine touch would work best.
Patricia’s voice was high and shaky. She was on the verge of tears. ‘Rachel’s not been well. Do you know how terrible it’s been? We’re all having to take sleeping pills each night just to get a drop of sleep. She’s in a terrible state. And she felt intimidated by you. You have to understand. She’s suffered from delusions. You can’t trust what she says!’
I stood and walked over to the window. If you met people half way when they were agitated, it was so much more effective that trying to stay super-calm. ‘Was Rachel diagnosed with a particular disorder?’
Patricia came and stood next to me, pointedly ignoring Craig. She lowered her voice. It was still shaky but she sounded better. ‘A few years ago she was. She went through a difficult time. It affects people in different ways.’
‘What exactly happened?’
Patricia wiped the windowsill several times with her hand, then leant against it. She smoothed her skirt down over her legs. ‘You heard about Rachel’s daughter, Jess?’
‘A little. Maybe you could tell us again.’
‘She died four years ago.’ Patricia took a determined breath. ‘Abbie was with her, saw it happen. And of course Rachel and Phil . . . Well, they went to pieces. And Abbie too. She felt guilty because she was there.’
‘I understand.’ I knew what it was like to see a dead sister. And to feel guilty.
‘And it all happened not long after they’d had the terrible news about Abbie – you know, when they realised she had the same heart problem Phil had, and was going to need a transplant. So they were trying to come to terms with the possibility of losing Abbie, and then they lost Jess. Rachel became obsessed with Abbie’s health. I mean, she couldn’t bear to lose another child. I know Abbie’s not her biological child but she adopted her and she absolutely adores her. We never knew then if Abbie was really ill or if Rachel was just worrying. And Rachel had a bit of an incident where she imagined things.’
‘What did she imagine?’
‘She thought she was infected with a parasite, but she wasn’t. It was short-lived, but you see she sometimes thinks things that aren’t real.’ Patricia gave me a beseeching look. ‘And then of course Abbie started getting really ill.’
‘And she had a transplant last year?’
‘September. And everyone thinks that’s the end of all the problems, but it’s not. We have constant worries about her body rejecting the heart, and about cancer developing. She needs biopsies all the time – her poor arms are always full of needle marks. And she can’t have pets because of the risk of infection. I even have to keep her away from Minxy here.’ She pointed to the ancient cat, who’d sloped into the room and crawled onto the windowsill between us. ‘I mean, for someone like Rachel, who’s always struggled with her nerves, it was a recipe for disaster. It made her more and more anxious.’
‘And Abbie’s nightmares?’
‘She did have problems. Apparently it’s not uncommon. Phil said he had them after his transplant – he had to go abroad for his and it was hard. But for a child especially, it’s a scary thing to have someone else’s heart. Anyway, Rachel had this idea that Abbie was remembering things from the heart’s past life. So, you see, she’s not stable. She may believe Abbie killed Phil, but it’s not true.’
‘So, what do you think happened on Sunday night?’
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