Guilty as Sin Read Online Free Page A

three armchairs and the wall of books reminded Wendy that this was a serious, adult place. At that moment, she might have been more contented in the toy corner.
    She sat down in one of the armchairs, as motioned by the counsellor.
    “I'm Linda Street, and I'm a psychological counsellor. Now, I've read a few of your notes but I'd just like you to tell me in your own words why you're here and what you hope to get out of these sessions.”
    What did she hope to get out of these sessions? What did she hope to get out of anything? What use was hope?
    “Well, I'm back at work after having four weeks off on compassionate leave. My last investigation was on the team investigating the Bowline Knot murders recently.”
    “And the murderer turned out to be your brother, am I correct?”
    “Yes. He also killed my partner and tried to kill me, too.” Wendy spoke matter-of-factly as she relayed the bare essentials to Dr Street. She had cried so much over the past six weeks that she had no more tears to shed. Just cold, hard facts.
    “And how did that make you feel?”
    “How do you think it bloody made me feel?”
    “I'd like you to tell me, Wendy.”
    “Hurt. Used. Panicked. Dirty. Stupid. Foolish. Angry. Resentful. Devastated. Confused.”
    “That's a lot of feelings.”
    “It was a lot of drama.”
    “And how does drama make you feel?”
    What a bloody stupid question, Wendy thought. She hated drama. All she wanted was a quiet life. Granted, her career choice somewhat belied that fact, but she had never felt comfortable with confrontation. Unlike many of her colleagues, she was quite happy for her position to be slowly overtaken by a deluge of paperwork.
    “I don't like it, on the whole.”
    “And do you think that's conducive to your job?”
    “I'm a good detective,” she said drily.
    “I'm not disputing that, Wendy. I'm trying to find out whether your job might exacerbate your psychological state and cause you some problems which we'll need to iron out.”
    “Iron out? My own brother framed my partner for a series of murders, killed him and then tried to kill me. Now I'm carrying a baby that has no father and a mother who doesn't know what to do.”
    “You're pregnant?”
    “Yes. Only a few weeks. I must have been pregnant at the time of Robert's death.”
    “Do you think it's wise to be back at work so soon, considering? A pregnancy can make your psychological state very delicate indeed, and I'm not sure the physical stress of your job is the best thing to subject an unborn baby to.”
    “That's out of the question, Doctor. I'm working on two very important cases right now. I promise you, if I sit at home and mope then I'll be a hundred times worse. I don't want this baby turning out to be a crackpot as well.”
    “I'm not suggesting that you stay at home and mope, Wendy. Just that you take the rest and recuperation time that you and your baby both need.”
    “What my baby and I need is to forget what happened and move on. All I have is my work and I need to work to forget. Even with the reminders that come with the job, I can't just sit around and do nothing. The last four weeks have been hell for me, Doctor. I have to keep busy.”
    “I just think there are better ways for you to keep busy than to subject yourself to a high-stress job. The police force offers a fantastic range of support for—“
    “I don't want support! I don't want help and I didn't even want to come to these fucking stupid counselling sessions, either. I don't want to talk about what happened; I just want to get on with my life.”

14
     
     
    Janet Grey grinned masochistically as she tied her long blonde hair back into a bun, the hygienic cap sitting snugly over it. Culverhouse suspected that she got a kick out of seeing coppers baulk and retch at the sight and smell of a dissected cadaver. Pathologists got used to it eventually, but even the hardest and most experienced of coppers still had trouble.
    “So, as I was telling you at