Page 79 of The Mother-in-Law

‘Here I am,’ he says at precisely that moment, appearing in the doorway. It’s a small room, and it feels even smaller with three of us in here. It makes me more nervous. The video recorder is in the corner, and they go through the spiel again, explaining that we are being recorded. Finally, we get down to business.

‘As I said on the phone,’ Jones says, ‘the reason we called you in is we have become aware that your mother-in-law was a member of a group of proponents for voluntary euthanasia. This organisation holds meetings where they provide information on how a person can humanely end their own life.’

I keep my facial expression carefully blank. ‘Oh?’

‘We have information that your mother-in-law attended one of these meetings and signed up to become a member.’

‘She did?’

Jones regards me head-on. ‘She did.’

‘So . . . you think shedidkill herself?’

‘We think she was thinking about it. It doesn’t explain her death, because she wasn’t found with any poison in her system . . . but it is an interesting development.’

I don’t know what to say to this, so I say nothing.

‘Can you tell me about your professional background, Lucy?’ Jones says after nearly a minute’s silence.

I find a hangnail and pick at it. ‘I’m a stay-at-home mother.’

‘And before that?’

‘I was a recruiter.’

‘A recruiter?’ Jones glances at Housseini and doesn’t try to conceal her smirk. ‘In which industry?’

I hesitate. ‘Information technology.’

‘And your university degree was in IT and data analytics, is that correct?’

‘It is.’

‘So if someone asked you how to encrypt email addresses, you’d know how to do it?’ It’s a question, ostensibly, but Jones makes it clear that it’s actually a statement.

‘I . . .’

‘You could figure it out?’ Jones suggests.

‘Probably,’ I admit.

‘Do you know what bitcoins are?’ Jones’s questions are coming faster and I wonder if it’s a technique to discombobulate me. If so, it’s working.

‘Yes. I . . . think so . . . why?’

They stare at me, a knowing look in their eyes.

‘Am I under arrest?’ I ask, flustered. ‘Because it’s late. I really need to get home to my kids.’

‘Just one more question, Lucy,’ Jones says, ‘and then you can go home. But I want you to think about this one before answering, okay? Really think about it.’

‘Okay,’ I say.

‘Do you know that assisting someone to commit suicide is at present a crime in Australia? Punishable with up to twenty-five years in prison.’

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DIANA