Web of Deceit by Katherine Howell

a tight bun at the nape of her neck and wearing a plum shirt with the sleeves folded up.
    ‘See you next time, Mr Williams,’ she said.
    Hester was still on the phone, but on her feet and flapping a hand in the doctor’s direction. Ella already had her badge out.
    ‘Doctor Hardy? Detectives Marconi and Shakespeare.Do you have a moment to speak to us, please?’
    Hardy glanced past them at Hester, then at the roomful of patients. ‘One moment is about all I have.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Murray said.
    Her office was warm and well-lit. It smelled of alcohol swabs and disinfectant, a smell Ella associated with Callum, and she felt a little pang.
    They sat in chairs below sunny autumn prints, and Hardywent behind the desk. ‘Which patient?’
    ‘Marko Meixner,’ Murray said.
    ‘Is he okay?’
    ‘I’m afraid he’s dead.’
    ‘I’m very sorry to hear that. Poor Chloe.’
    ‘You don’t sound surprised,’ Ella said.
    ‘He had a number of issues,’ Hardy said. ‘Was it suicide?’
    ‘We don’t know,’ Ella said. ‘Had he been suicidal?’
    Hardy sat back in her chair and sighed. ‘He’d beenon antidepressants for a few years, and I know he’d attempted suicide at least three times.’
    ‘Three,’ Murray said.
    She nodded. ‘Once with an overdose of tranquillisers; once he swam out to sea hoping to drown, but couldn’t face it and came back to shore; and once he went to a national park near the Blue Mountains and set his car up to gas himself, but somebody happened along whilehe was still conscious and pulled the hose out and said they were calling the police. He gave up and drove back home.’
    ‘When was that?’
    ‘The first time was years ago,’ Hardy said. ‘Before he was my patient. He told me about it. The other two were in the last two years. I changed his medication a couple of times – antidepressants have varying effects on different people – and latelyhe seemed better. I thought we had the dosage right.’
    ‘Did he ever go to counselling or see a psychologist?’ Ella asked.
    ‘I suggested it each time, but he said he just wanted medication. Some people are like that. I can’t force them.’
    ‘Did he ever tell you what he thought was the cause of it all?’
    ‘You mean the murder?’ She nodded. ‘I believe that he was predisposed toanxiety and depression though, and if that incident hadn’t happened he would more than likely have developed both anyway.’
    ‘Did he talk about the murder?’
    ‘Now and again,’ she said. ‘That’s one reason why I kept recommending counselling. He thought he should just be able to leave it behind, but as I told him, sometimes you need help to process things before you can do that.’
    ‘Was he ever paranoid, thinking someone was out to get him?’ Ella said.
    ‘Not that I saw.’
    ‘When did you last see him?’ Murray asked.
    She typed something into her computer and looked at the screen. ‘Two months ago. He had an infected cyst on the back of his neck. I prescribed antibiotics and said to come back if it didn’t heal within ten days. He didn’t come back.’
    ‘How washis mental state?’
    ‘We talked about it briefly. He said he was feeling okay.’
    ‘Did he talk about the murder that day?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘And nothing about him gave you concern?’
    ‘Nothing. He was quiet and serious, but he always is. He was bothered by the cyst, but I didn’t get the feeling that anything else was going on. I do sometimes, with patients. They talk about littleproblems, but you can see in their eyes there’s something big they want to say. He didn’t look like that.’
    Two months ago was just before Canning was released from prison, Ella thought. Chloe had talked about Marko’s reaction on opening the letter from the parole board, which would’ve arrived some weeks before that. It seemed strange that Marko would have told Hardy but not his wife aboutthe other two suicide attempts, and then not mentioned the letter if it bothered