Struggles of Psycho

by Rhyam O'Bryam

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘So she never went home again, after coming to your castle.’ McCarthy said this more as a statement than a question.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not for Christmas? Birthdays? Funerals?’

  Philips licked her lips. ‘I can see that deserves an explanation. Especially because you know that Ivy didn’t even like me.’

  ‘According to your previous account, it was stronger than dislike,’ I pointed out. ‘You said she hated you.’

  ‘But I also said that when my fingers touched her sex, she was wet. So it’s more complicated than hate.’ Philips had a way of looking at everyone, all the time. I didn’t like it and it was one of the reasons I’d felt there was more to this case than manslaughter in self-defence. She was always monitoring the people around her. Right now, she was – with a hint of a smile – checking to see the impact of her words on Healy.

  Professionally inscrutable, Healy said nothing but he didn’t look at Philips, or anyone. He was holding a pen (an expensive-looking one) over a pad of paper and waiting.

  ‘Can you explain why Ivy Patterson stayed with you all those years?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d be delighted to, Superintendent, because when you understand how it gradually dawned on Mike that he was losing me to Ivy, you’ll understand what a dangerous emotional state this created in him. For a long time, Mike underestimated the possibility that Ivy and I might develop a relationship. Not only did he know how bitter Ivy felt towards me, how frightened she was of me, but he also had a prejudice, as so many people do, against same-sex relationships. It just didn’t occur to him that I could have more powerful feelings for Ivy than for any man, let alone a rather weak one.

  ‘At first, after Ivy’s arrival, I continued the mistress-slave relationship with Mike. After all, everything was still rather fluid and while I had scored a major victory the night the ambulance men came, it could all be undone if Mike picked up sticks and left me. Ivy was like a sparrow, being circled by a cat. One false move on my part and she’d be up and away.

  ‘I was determined to make life pleasant and attractive for Ivy. This is a beautiful part of the world, as you all know. Castle Sinot is only fifteen minutes away from the sea and at that time we were not a tourist location, so you would have miles of walks to yourself, listening to powerful grey waves beating on pale, yellow sand. To my mind, they were constantly speaking, shouting “trust” as they crashed and “no one” as they flooded back. “Trust, no one; trust, no one”.’

  Philips laughed, a surprisingly cheerful sound. ‘But that’s probably just me. The three of us went for long walks, which reminded me of when we were school children and burned that beach hut down.’

  ‘Happy days,’ muttered McCarthy, without looking up from her notepad.

  ‘Afterwards, we’d go to a coffee shop and chat. Well, Mike and I would talk. He had plans. After finishing his engineering degree, he was going to Argentina. That was where the money was, he said, a friend of his from university was Argentinian and the country was booming.

  ‘I was happy enough to let him talk like this. It meant nothing more than the daydreams of the characters in Of Mice and Men. I knew it wouldn’t amount to anything. In actual fact, Mike ended up at Case International at Doncaster, doing technical drawing for tractor parts. While he chatted on, thin hands waving, I would study Ivy. Unlike me, she believed in her brother and when her dark eyes fell on him, they shone with affection. Then, when she looked at me, the lustre would fade. Rather like I imagine it might as a person dies. When Ivy regarded me, she went dead inside.

  ‘I had a month until Mike had to go back for his last year at Bristol. A month to secure my hold on Ivy, so that she would stay with me after he was gone. One issue that helped me was the farm’s sheepdog, Bonnie. When my uncle had finally cleared off, he’d left Bonnie behind. He was no lover of animals and had enough dogs over at his place. That was fine by me, it’s useful to have a dog around in a remote farm, for the barking if strangers come at night.

  ‘Bonnie was a good judge of character. She showed little interest in Mike but adored Ivy and Ivy gradually fell for Bonnie. You could see it in the little moments in which Ivy showed affection for the dog: a tickle under the chin, if Bonnie walked too close; a throw of an old, chewed-up tennis ball for Bonnie to play with. And always, a cuddle on the couch in the evening. I watched their growing bond develop with interest.

  ‘Of course, Bonnie was by no means a strong enough reason for Ivy to stay. Ivy’s enthusiasm for playing with Bonnie, though, made things somewhat less tense.

  ‘I knew I needed to deal with my financial situation before the month was up. I had some money in the bank, so I could pay for our groceries, for petrol and for our visits to cafes and restaurants. But my savings were not enough to last for long. I needed the rents from our land.

  ‘One day, a Wednesday?’ Philips turned to Healy to check and the lawyer just grunted. ‘I took Mike and Ivy into Wexford and we all came in to Healy and Co. My mother’s solicitors. Brian’s father, Patrick, was still in charge back then but young Brian was there too. Studying for the Bar, weren’t you?’

  ‘You knew the victim?’ I asked the lawyer.

  ‘I met him once or twice,’ Healy muttered. ‘Don’t really remember him though.’

  ‘Do you remember Ivy?’ McCarthy caught my eye before addressing Brian Healy.

  ‘Of course. She’s lived with Ms Philips for decades.’

  ‘Do you any idea where she is now?’ McCarthy pushed on.

  Healy looked alarmed, his normally flushed face paled. ‘I’m not here to answer questions and I’m not going to. But you can tell me: is she not still with Ms Philips?’

  McCarthy didn’t answer but stared at the lawyer, who was clearly uncomfortable. ‘When’s the last time you saw her?’

  Healy just shook his head, looking at the table.

  ‘Well, if I can continue?’ Philips looked around at each of us and when no one responded, placed both her hands on the table. Fleshy fingers, no marriage ring, but a large gold ring with a dark red gem was on the middle finger of her left hand ‘I was to speak to Patrick Healy and the first thing I asked him was whether my uncle was a client of the firm.

  ‘“No, why?” he asked, puzzled.

  ‘“Because I need to take him to court for my rents.” And I explained the whole situation.

  ‘Healy – Patrick, that is – was a clever man. He brought his grey, bushy, eagle-like eyebrows together in a frown. “Have you not simply asked him for them?”

  ‘“I’ve asked. We had a big row about it and he’s determined to keep them for ten years.”

  ‘“Ten years? No, no, he can’t do that. The property is yours, the leases are signed by your parents, not him. No, I think it’s straightforward.”

  ‘“Can I leave it with you?”

  ‘“You can.” He looked at me over his glasses with a firm and reassuring expression. “You just have to sign a few papers giving me the power to act for you.”

  ‘So I became his, and later Brian’s, client.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Now I knew this wouldn’t be the end of the matter, not with my uncle. And I warned Mike and Ivy to watch out. I had visions of my uncle trying something desperate, like kidnapping Ivy and using her to negotiate with. Silly, really. But then again. One night we all woke up to two loud bangs that echoed all around the dark house, followed by barking from Bonnie and shouting from the yard.

  ‘“Come out! Come out! You whore and cheat. Come out and face me, you lying sack of shit.”

  ‘Mike burst into our bedroom, white all over with fear, from his face, down his scrawny ribs to his penis. I’d left him sleeping in a pretend dog basket, which we’d made up in his room. We’d been playing mistress and pet: fetch, lick, that sort of thing. “That’s gunfire!” he shouted.

  ‘“Don’t panic, Mike. Get some trousers on in case I need you.” Pushing my arms into the sleeves of my dressi
ng gown I went into the corridor and – staying in the shadows – looked down at my uncle. He stood on the bonnet of his car, shotgun in hand, roaring and swearing in the general direction of the house.

  ‘I opened the window and called out, “Get away out of there, you drunken fool. Go on home. And don’t come back.”

  ‘His response to was to break the shotgun open over his knee and (after a bit of fumbling in a pocket) stuff two more cartridges into it.

  ‘“Fuck off, Simon! I’ve three guests here. Even if you shot me – and you won’t do more than sting me at that range – you don’t want life in jail for those rents.”

  ‘“You lying, cheating whore! Nobody fucks me over.” With that he jumped down and strode over the cobbles of the yard to our main door. Unfortunately, I hadn’t put the bolts across. Philips paused and shrugged at me wryly. ‘Of course, I did so every night afterward, after the horse had bolted, so to speak.

  ‘“It was easy for my uncle to smash the little Yale lock. One kick and he was in, stomping up the stairs towards me. Suddenly, I was worried. Whether he really was drunk or not, he seemed to have lost all restraint. Obviously, no rational person would commit murder over some rents. Even if they were worth a lot – and they were only worth about ten thousand a year – that would be no recompense for ten to twelve years in jail. And jail was where he was headed as he was leaving evidence everywhere.

  ‘Perhaps my uncle only intended to scare me; perhaps he just wanted to regain some pride. It must have hit him hard, that he’d been screwed over by some young thing. A female young thing at that. Whatever he was thinking, I decided to flee. Mike obviously felt the same.

  ‘“Christ! He’s coming up the stairs.” Still naked, Mike ran off behind me, down the corridor towards the back stairs.

  ‘Barking like she’d cornered a cat in a tree, I could tell that Bonnie was following my uncle up the stairs. She hadn’t attacked him though, which I could hardly blame her for, seeing as my uncle had looked after her for years. I hurriedly retreated towards the shadows at the far end of the corridor.

  ‘“Don’t do anything stupid in the heat of your temper,” I shouted out. “You’ll have twelve years in prison to regret it.”

  ‘“I won’t regret splashing your brains out all over the wall.” He’d appeared at the top of the stairs and lifted the gun, with a nasty smile on his face. Around his feet, Bonnie was leaping up and down with half-serious attacks, unsure what to do.

  ‘Incredibly, Ivy stepped out of the bedroom and stood in front of my uncle, her face only inches from the two barrels of the shotgun. It was a shame I couldn’t see her expression. I could only imagine the determination in it. Wrapped in my dressing gown, she still looked lovely. From behind I could see her neck and the bare, pale skin of her shoulder where the gown sagged.

  ‘“What the fuck?” said Simon, still keeping the gun up in a firing position.

  ‘“Go ahead and pull the trigger.” Ivy gave a little toss of her black bob.

  ‘My stomach clenched so hard, I understood how people can urinate on themselves in a crisis. If my uncle was really out of control, I could lose Ivy. It was an unbearable thought. She was so close to being mine. In my daydreams, when I masturbated, it was always with her in my thoughts and those thoughts had become clearer and more powerful these last few days as I gained confidence that I would have her in my bed for years.

  ‘Now those dreams were about to be turned into a nightmare. My life would become purposeless, because really, without Ivy, what did I have? Mike?’ Philips snorted with derision. ‘There was nothing intense or satisfying about him.

  ‘“Shoot me,” said Ivy.

  ‘The gun wavered. “You love this bitch so much, you’d put your head in the firing line for her?”

  ‘“I saw Ivy’s head shaking a negative. “No. I hate her.”

  ‘“Well, get out of the fucking way then.” My uncle spoke each word carefully, as if to someone with a problem understanding him.

  ‘“You won’t kill her. But do me a favour. Finish me now, before she tortures me forever.”

  ‘After a long pause, which I would describe as silent, except that Bonnie was still barking loudly, Simon put up the gun and shouted down the corridor towards me. “Fuck off, Amy. If I ever see you around, I’ll punch your lights out.”

  ‘And with that, he upped and left. I heard him going down the stairs; I heard him kick the door again; I heard the his footfall in the yard and I heard the car engine start. Only then did I find I could move. Christ. I watched from the window as the car turned and drove off.

  ‘“Ivy!” I ran to her. Slumped against the wall of the corridor, arms around her knees, Ivy was sobbing desperately.

  ‘I held her tight. “Oh Ivy, Ivy. Don’t ever leave me.”

  ‘I heard a little whisper. “God. God.”

  ‘“Come on, my love. We’ve had quite a scare.” I tried to pull her back towards the bed, but she wouldn’t budge. I just wanted her to be under the covers and to be wrapped around her, like an oyster shell protecting its pearl.

  ‘A noise from the end of the corridor alerted me to the fact that Mike had chosen to return to us, now that the drama was over. Mind you, I was glad he had run. Had he stayed it might have become messy. Who knew how close my uncle had come to murder?

  ‘“Get the door, Mike, push the bolts over.’

  ‘“Are you OK?” He paused by Ivy, tentatively patting the top of her head (the black hair of which was visible, wrapped in her arms), much like I was patting Bonnie.

  ‘When Ivy didn’t answer, he stood there, useless, silly little cock bobbing anxiously.

  ‘“Go on, Mike. She’ll be OK.”

  ‘He paused on the top of the stairs. “Should we call the police?”

  ‘This required a moment’s thought. There were pros and cons. Maybe getting a restraining order on my uncle would be a good idea. “All right.” I stood up. “Ivy, you should get yourself back to bed.”

  ‘With Mike behind me, I went to the phone, while he struggled with the bolts and immediately, I was through to Wexford Station. Your station.’ Philips smiled at me.

  McCarthy, however, was frowning. ‘There’s no record of this incident.’

  With her characteristic, knowing smirk, Philips leaned away from the table, as if to get a better view of my colleague. ‘That, Detective Sergeant, is because of the way things get done around here. As you well know, there is a culture of sorting things out off the books. Sergeant Jim Moran took my call and I could tell at once he wasn’t going to treat it too seriously. After I’d explained what had happened, he simply said, “I’ll be over in the morning.”

  ‘And so he was. A ruddy, strong Kerryman. You might remember him, Superintendent?’

  I nodded.

  ‘He came into the kitchen, looked pointedly at the kettle and sat down at the breakfast bar with his tea. He didn’t even have his notebook out. Just sat, drank his tea and listened to Mike’s babble about being nearly killed. Moran looked more interested in Bonnie, whose ears he was scratching as she sniffed around him, than the murderous violence of the previous night.

  ‘“You took the rents off him?” Moran said at last. “Simon won’t like that.”

  ‘“It’s my right.” I told him.

  ‘“I suppose so.”

  ‘“And he broke the law, didn’t he? Bringing a shotgun here and firing at me.”

  ‘“I suppose he did too.”

  ‘“Well?” I found myself with my hands on my hips, feeling angry towards this unsympathetic and slow-moving policeman.

  ‘“I’ll go have a word with him.”

  ‘“Is that it?” Mike’s voice was nearly a screech. “You’ll have a word with him? Don’t you want to see the cartridges? The chips on the glass? In England, last night’s criminal behaviour would have earned him four years in jail.”

  ‘Mike was just great at saying the wrong thing. This bulky policeman was from a region where half the population had all been r
epublican and busy in the flying columns. He was probably the grandson of some famous rebel. And here he was, sitting in the farm of a Norman landowner, being told how they did things better in England.

  ‘I could see the set of the big man’s face harden and he put down his tea. “Is that it, so?” he asked.

  ‘And that probably would have been it, except that Ivy came in, looking like a movie star. She was wrapped in my dressing gown, which revealed a stretch of pale shoulder and her slightly dishevelled hair, with black strands standing up in places was pure magic, like watching a kitten rolling in a basket of wool. She couldn’t have staged a more effective entrance, even if she’d practised for years.

  ‘Staring at her, open-mouthed, it took Moran a few moments to gather himself. “Who’s this?” he eventually asked.

  ‘“I’m Ivy Patterson.” She stepped over and with one hand clenched around the dressing gown to keep it closed, offered him the other, which she shook.

  ‘Moran no longer seemed like he was about to leave, settling more comfortably on the stool. “And were you here last night too?”

  ‘“She was,” said Mike, “and she was nearly killed, weren’t you…” he would have run on, but he caught my scowl and shake of my head and shut up.

  ‘“He came in, furious and when I stood between him and Amy, he pointed the gun in my face. I really thought I was about to die.”

  ‘Jim Moran looked at Ivy and it probably crossed his mind that to have blown such a pretty face apart would have been a terrible act. Looking somewhat grimmer than he had and leaving the dog alone, Moran gave me a nod. “Leave it with me.”

  Philips shook her head. ‘Leave it with him! What kind of criminal justice system is that? My uncle should have been in jail after that night. But all I got was a phone call from Moran.’

  ‘“I’ve been to see your uncle.”

  ‘“And?”

  ‘“He won’t bother you again.”

  ‘“Is that it? He discharged a weapon on my property with intent…” But there was no point, the line was dead. The sergeant had hung up on me.’