‘I don’t remember, Inspector.’ He cupped his forehead with his hands in frustration, ‘She always called me absent-minded.’
Inspector Kay shrugged, ‘I see it simple. You injected your wife with an overdose of insulin. She died.’
‘But, she needed intravenous insulin therapy,’ He protested. ‘Type-2 diabetes. I begged her to reduce her weight. We regularly fought over the issue.’
‘Your neighbors say that you and your wife fought a lot?’
‘We did argue a bit, but who doesn’t?’
‘Very convenient,’ Kay grunted.
‘Convenient? I have a poor memory, Inspector. What happened was an accident.’
‘I’m pretty sure your attorney will get you off on technicality citing your memory, but what happened was premeditated murder. You just happened to forget to close your wife’s IV line, eh?’
He hung his head down. Kay wouldn’t understand. No one would. His memory was bad – so bad that he didn’t even remember whether he loved his wife or hated her.