with his death?'
Ceri's eyes clouded as she relived the memory. 'All I know is that he went through three very black days when he thought his career might be in danger. I'd never seen him like that.'
'Did you tell any of this to the police?'
Ceri nodded. 'They said they'd spoken to his superior and she insisted there had been no complaints lodged against him.'
'Is it possible something else was happening which might have led to a complaint?' Jenny asked. 'Another case perhaps?'
'I've no idea. But why this business with his computer? It's more likely he'd found out about other mistakes. He was the kind of man who had to tell the truth. It just wasn't in him to lie or cover anything up.'
'So your theory is that he had uncovered some incident or malpractice . . . then what, exactly?'
Ceri shook her head, the possibilities in her mind too dreadful to articulate.
Jenny gently changed tack to a line of questioning she felt was probably more relevant to the manner of Alan Jacobs's end. 'Would you say that your husband was a secretive man?'
'No. Not at all. We told each other everything.'
'When did he tell you about the girl and her misdiagnosis, for example?'
'He couldn't tell me about it at the time,' Ceri said defensively. 'It was difficult enough ethically without asking me to compromise my morality too.'
'In what sense?'
'You could say he was acting unprofessionally. He knows I would never have approved of him being dishonest.'
'So he was giving her one type of medication but entering another into her records.'
'Yes.'
'When did he tell you?'
'It all came out after she died. There was an inquest. No action was taken against him.'
Jenny made a note, putting off asking her next question. The silence crackled. They both knew what was coming.
Jenny approached the subject obliquely. 'I've seen enough suicides now to be able to tell you that even husbands and wives sometimes have no clue as to the depth of their partner's depression, or what's caused it.'
She waited, hoping the widow would search her memory and start to put together telltale pieces.
Ceri's expression hardened. 'I know what you're trying to say, Mrs Cooper. You think Alan was gay, and probably involved in some sordid scandal with a patient.'
'We certainly have to deal with the forensic evidence.' Jenny braced herself. 'Your husband did have sex with a man in the hours before his death, Mrs Jacobs.'
'I don't believe it.'
'It may be difficult, but there is no other rational explanation.'
'He could have been murdered,' Ceri said coldly. 'Drugged and molested. It's happened to others. There were marks on his arms, the police showed me the report. He must have been attacked.'
'Those lesions weren't very deep. They weren't necessarily caused in a struggle.'
'If he was drugged he would hardly have been able to put up a fight. The knife they found next to him wasn't even one of ours.'
'I'm not sure that's proof of very much.'
Ceri's conviction wouldn't be shaken. 'Alan went to church every week to learn about the Catholic faith. He wanted us to be able to share that part of our lives. We were happily married, Mrs Cooper.'
'I can see that,' Jenny said, deciding there was nothing to be gained from pursuing the subject. 'Just one more thing while I remember. Did he have any connection with the church where he was found?'
'We've never even been there. Our church is St Xavier's, in town.'
Jenny wrote the name down. She'd instruct Alison to talk to the priest.
'I refuse to believe he killed himself, Mrs Cooper. He loved his family too much. We were everything to him.'
Jenny gave an understanding smile. The ones left behind always said that.
Kenneth Donaldson had been waiting in reception for over an hour and was in no mood to be fobbed off. Somewhere in Eva's file Jenny had seen him named as her only family. His occupation was listed as company director, and he gave every impression of being a man used to getting his own way and at a time of his choosing. He brushed Alison's attempted introduction aside and collared Jenny the moment she walked through the door of the reception area.
'Kenneth Donaldson, Eva's father. Would you please explain why you haven't released my daughter's body? It's bad enough that you made us wait until the killer pleaded guilty.'
'Pleased to meet you, Mr Donaldson. Would you like to come this way?'
'I'd like an answer. Now, preferably.'
'That's what I'm offering you.' Jenny stepped past him and into her office.
Donaldson