Different Senses by Ann Somerville Page A

mother for no reason. But I keep
thinking, will she come back? Maybe I might meet her again. I’m
only twenty-four. I could maybe see her and I’d know her....”
    I put my hand on his shoulder,
my head aching like a bitch from his emotions, wishing I could
somehow draw them out of him a little. But it was strictly one way,
this talent, and about as useless as a paper chai pot right
now.
    “Doc Nihar would be happy to
talk to you, you know. He lost his wife a few years ago. Not the
same, but...you need someone to help you.”
    He sneered. “I need to
get out of this shit pile and go where no one spits ‘Kelon bastard’
and ‘ Guko ’ at me, or thinks I killed my wife because I don’t believe
in the Spirit or the teachings of their self-satisfied bastard
Seeker.”
    “You’re thinking of selling up?
The family said something about insurance.”
    “You mean the insurance that
doesn’t pay in the event of suicide? Sure. I killed Sapna for money
I didn’t want at that price and wouldn’t get anyway. Her father’s
an idiot.”
    “But you’re in some financial
difficulties.”
    “Everyone here about is in
‘financial difficulty’. We ain’t exactly rich folks, any of us. But
I didn’t kill my wife!”
    “Settle down. Nikhil, I’m an
empath.” He jerked in surprise. “I know you’re not faking this. I
can tell her family you didn’t do it.”
    “Fat lot of good that’ll
do.”
    “Maybe. But that’s three people
who know for sure you didn’t—Constable Girilal at the station, Doc
Nihar, and me. The doc did say that he couldn’t tell if someone had
talked her into it though—you know, by threatening someone she
cared about. Is there anyone you can think of who would want to
hurt her? Or hurt you?”
    His eyes went wide with
disbelief. “Enough to kill her? You’re kidding. Not unless you
count her parents, but they’d just run me over, not hurt her.
Everyone loved Sapna. She was sweet, and so gentle. Nobody killed
her. I wish they had. Then I could hate them instead of.... Is it
wrong I hate her for doing that?”
    He sounded so lost. “Don’t see
how you couldn’t. But you love her too.”
    “Sometimes I just want to wake
up dead. A lot of the time I feel that way.”
    I squeezed his shoulder. “Do me
a favour, and go see Doc Nihar. Talk to him. Tell him about feeling
that way. Don’t end up like her, thinking there’s only one
solution. Even if you’re planning to move, talk to him.”
    “Why do you care what I do?” he
mumbled.
    “I used to be a cop. I don’t
want to see this tragedy become a worse one. Will you talk to
him?”
    “Might. Will you really tell
them I didn’t kill her?”
    “Of course I will. Thing is,
they’re not really in their right minds just now. They want someone
to hate too. They don’t want to hate her any more than you do.
You’re the best target they have.”
    “If she’d just left a
note....”
    “She might have. I’ll be
looking for it. But she said goodbye to you, just...you didn’t
realise. Don’t hate her for that.”
    There was nothing more I could
do for him. If Sapna’s family hadn’t got this idea into their
heads, they could have been support for him and he for them. What a
damn bloody mess.
    ~~~~~~~~
    Before I returned to Jyoti’s
family, there was one more thing I wanted to do. Using Constable
Girilal’s meticulous map, I drove to the place where Sapna and her
baby had both lost their lives. I didn’t expect to find anything
there, not now. But I wanted to have a sense of her, of what it had
been like for her. Probably a bad idea—I already felt too
emotionally involved in this—but I felt I had to. For the girl
herself, and for her family. Nothing I could report to them would
be good news. She would still be dead, and somehow they had to
accept that.
    She’d chosen a pretty place to
die. Sturdy trees—the kind that could resist yearly
inundations—stood amidst lush grass and lanky plants with empty
seed heads. Six weeks