The Hanging Time

by Bilinda P Sheehan

He lunged toward her and Harriet darted beneath his arm. She made it to the open doorway before he crashed into her, knocking her sideways into the wall. Her head bounced off the splintered doorframe and pain flared bright and blinding behind her eyes.

  The impact of hitting the ground jolted her back to the present and she tried to scramble away as Robert crawled over her and pressed her into the hardwood floor. He straddled her, his knees pinning her in place as he planted his hand with the cloth over her nose and mouth.

  At this point, going unconscious was an inevitability but there was one thing she could do and that was attempt to control the length of time she was actually unconscious for. However, it meant fighting against every adrenaline-soaked nerve ending in her body.

  She tried holding her breath as she let her body go limp. She slumped against the floor hoping and praying he took the bait. The sooner he thought she was unconscious meant the less time he would keep the rag pressed to her face.

  She held her breath for as long as possible but her body screamed for oxygen and she had no choice but to breathe in the sweet scent of the chloroform. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the chemical rendered her useless.

  “Shh,” Robert said, smoothing her hair out of her face. “It’ll all be over soon. Don’t you worry.”

  Darkness rolled over her and tossed her beneath a wave of black. And Harriet had no choice but to hope that the call she’d made had connected and that Drew would get the message. If not, then everything she had done had been for nothing. She would die here, alone and afraid in the arms of a man who thought he was releasing her from a world that had so far treated her with nothing but contempt.

  Chapter Fifty

  The taste of metal in her mouth was the first sense that returned to Harriet as she crawled back toward consciousness. Her head felt as though someone had lifted her brain out of her head with a rusty ice-cream scoop before replacing it with cotton wool. Groggily, she struggled to open her eyes as the sound of something shuffling nearby reached her ears.

  “I was wondering when you would wake up.”

  Harriet finally managed to pry one eye open, the other one felt heavy and refused to budge. She tried to lift her hands from the floor but they were like lead weights at the end of each arm.

  Her vision was blurred. Her surroundings swam in and out of focus but after a minute of trying, she finally managed to pinpoint Robert in the space.

  The room was small, the ceiling low overhead, and he was even more stooped than usual.

  Harriet shifted and discovered she was propped up against a wooden beam which pressed painfully in against her spine. She tilted her head back and the rope around her throat scratched at her skin.

  It took every ounce of concentration she had—which, considering how much her head pounded, wasn’t a whole lot to begin with—to keep from letting her panic overtake her. If she did that, then she was as good as dead.

  “It’s the basement,” Robert said by way of an explanation. He gestured to the room and sighed. “Trev and I spent a lot of time down here taking computers apart. I thought he was happy in those days.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Robert shot her a quizzical look. “What do you mean, why am I doing this? You said you understood.”

  Harriet shook her head and the world ran in colourful streamers. Her head had started to pound and just keeping one eye open was painful.

  “I lied. I don’t understand any of this. Do you really think this is what your son would have wanted?”

  Robert glanced down at his hands. “He doesn’t get to choose,” he said. “He took that decision into his own hands the day he decided to come down here and hang himself from that beam.”

  Nausea washed up the back of Harriet’s throat.

  “And your wife, is this what she would want you to do?”

  “Why do you think I’m doing this at all?” He exploded, his face turning an unbecoming shade of red as he stalked across the room. It wasn’t until he started to move that Harriet realised he was holding the other end of the rope in his hands. As he got closer, the noose tightened on her throat.

  He caught himself and paused and Harriet felt his gaze on her as she gagged and spluttered, her brain screaming for oxygen.

  Robert stepped back and the tension disappeared. Harriet sucked down clean air into her lungs and the pain in her head increased until she was sure it would explode.

  “Your wife,” she said, coughing to clear her raw airway. “She didn’t die of an aneurysm, did she?”

  Robert shook his head. “No.” He turned away and the rope went slack as he moved over to sit on the bottom of the stairs.

  “She was so unhappy after, Trev,” he said. “And then she was diagnosed with breast cancer.” He shrugged. “She got sicker and sicker. And then she was palliative; it all happened so fast and she didn’t even try and put up a fight.”

  “And that’s when she asked you to help her die,” Harriet finished for him.

  He raised his tear-soaked face to her and smiled. “I was afraid. Afraid to be alone. Afraid to help. I didn’t want to hurt anyone but she helped talk me through it all. She’d been a nurse, so she knew what she needed to take.”

  He rubbed his face on the sleeve of his white shirt. “I stayed with her until it was over. And then when they came and got her body; I thought this is it, Robert. They’re going to know what you did but—"

  “But they didn’t.”

  He shook his head and smiled. “I knew then it was a sign. A sign that I could help others who were hurting. I knew then that this was what I was supposed to do.”

  “But your wife made a choice,” Harriet said. “The position she put you in it wasn’t right, but I can understand why you helped her but the others. They didn’t want to die. They were still fighting.”

  He snorted his derision and shook his head. “They wanted it. Whether they knew it or not, I gave them what they were too afraid to do for themselves.”

  “Bianca, has a daughter—"

  Robert nodded. “I know. Her name is Tilly and she’s six years old. Bright as a button.”

  “And you’ve taken her mother from her. The only parent she had left.”

  Robert shook his head. “Bianca didn’t know how to get through her own grief, never mind help her daughter deal with hers. I’ve done that child a favour.”

  “You’re wrong.” Harriet shuffled against the beam. “You’re wrong and you can’t see it yet. But you will. One day you’ll understand the level of devastation you’ve brought these people.”

  She struggled to get her legs beneath her. If she could just stand up...

  Her legs refused to cooperate, her muscles were jelly and the more she tried to force them to work, the more exhausted she became.

  Robert shook his head. “No. I freed them. I helped them. They couldn’t do it themselves. They wanted to but they couldn’t do it and I helped them.”

  “They had their whole lives ahead of them.”

  “They were broken!” His voice was hoarse with unshed tears. “You don’t understand at all. You’re just a liar. You’re lying to me and you’re lying to yourself.”

  Harriet opened her mouth to answer but he cut over her.

  “Don’t try to deny it. I know all about your past. I know all about what your mother did to you and your brother. You would have been better off if you’d stayed in the car that day. She was only trying to spare you the grief, the hardship of growing up knowing you were unloved and unwanted.”

  It took Harriet a moment to find her composure. He knew who she was, knew about her past and Kyle. Had he known all along or had he discovered the truth while she’d been out for the count?

  “You think I don’t understand what pain is. That I can’t fathom it, well you’re wrong. I know what your pain is, and I know how to make it stop. Just like I knew how to help the others.”

  He grabbed the rope and began to wind it around his arm.

  “Wait,” Har
riet said. “What if I don’t want it to stop?”

  Her question seemed to catch him off guard and he sneered at her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She shook her head. “I’m being serious. What if I like it; the pain, I mean?”

  “Nobody wants to be in pain.”

  Harriet shook her head and stared at her feet. “Now who’s being ridiculous? There are plenty of people in this world that thrive on pain. Who actively seek it out just so they can get off on it.”

  “That’s not who you are.”

  Harriet shrugged. “No, it’s not. But my pain is my own and I don’t want it to just go away.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it has helped create me. Without that crucible I wouldn’t be the psychologist I am. I wouldn’t help people; or even want to help people who are suffering because I wouldn’t understand what it’s like to walk in their shoes.”

  Robert shook his head. “You’re stalling for time and I don’t believe you.” He punctuated his words by tightening his hold on the rope.

  Harriet managed to get her legs beneath her and pushed onto her feet. He cut her off with a sharp jerk, he pulled the rope taut and the knot tight around her throat.

  Harriet thrashed, fighting against the ever-tightening noose on her neck. She dug her fingers into the rope in an attempt to get her fingers inside the noose but all she succeeded in doing was gouging at the flesh of her throat. Stars burst behind her eyes as her oxygen was depleted. Her pulse pounded in her ears and still she fought against the noose.

  There was a crash above her head and the veins in Robert’s neck stood out as he heaved and pulled the rope tighter. Harriet felt her feet leave the floor as the edges of her vision turned black. Her heart rate slowed, the noise thundering in her ears as she gasped for air.

  “Police!”

  The shout seemed to come from far away; too far away to be of any use to her as darkness ate at her vision.

  The rope went slack and Harriet hit the ground hard; the jolt and sudden rush of air enough to make her dizzy. She opened her eyes to see Robert on the floor, pinned beneath two uniformed officers.

  “Harriet!” Drew’s face swam into focus and she opened her mouth to speak but there was no sound.

  She blacked out.

  When she came around, Drew was sliding the noose from her neck and the pain was enough to shoot through her nerve endings and set them alight.

  “Harriet, can you hear me?” He crouched over her, cradling her gently against his chest.

  She tried to speak but the effort was too much. The adrenaline flooding her body sent her heart rate into overdrive and the world lost its colour. She gasped and clutched at her throat again, the sudden rush of air she’d drank down only moments ago no longer enough to sustain her.

  Shock. She was going into shock. She’d heard it could happen to those who’d suicide attempts had been thwarted by loved ones, but she’d never thought she would find herself on the receiving end of it.

  Her back arched as she struggled to find the oxygen necessary for survival and she clutched at Drew’s jacket.

  “Where’s the ambulance?” Drew shouted.

  “Is she dead?”

  Harriet wasn’t sure but she could have sworn she heard an edge of triumph in Robert’s voice as he was picked up from the ground and dragged up the stairs.

  “Is she dead? Did I free her? Tell me!”

  “Harriet, help is on the way. Just stay with me...”

  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. The adrenaline in her body spiked as panic robbed her of her senses and she succumbed to the darkness that swallowed her whole.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  When she awoke, the room was almost completely dark; only the faint light from the monitor above her bed cast a glow over the space. A monitor beeped and it took her a moment to realise the beeping was the sound of her heartbeat.

  Her head throbbed as she stared up at the white ceiling tiles above her head.

  “We thought you were a goner.” Drew’s voice drifted over to her from the darkened corner of the room. The beeping monitor beside the bed gradually picked up its pace.

  “Hey,” Drew said, sitting forward on his chair. “It’s all right, no need to panic.” He grinned at her and Harriet could just make out his haggard expression tinged blue from the screen.

  “How long have I—" She trailed off. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed a whole packet of razor blades. She swallowed past the pain and tried again. “How long have I been in here?”

  “Twenty-four hours,” Drew said as he scrubbed his hand over his face. “They thought they would have to intubate you but they managed to stabilise you on the ride over in the ambulance with oxygen support.” He sighed. “You frightened the crap out of me, you know?”

  Harriet smiled at him but her face was sore and it felt more like a grimace than an expression of happiness.

  “What about Robert?”

  “Full confession,” Drew said. “The bloke wouldn’t tell us anything at first. He just kept on asking if you were dead.”

  “And you told him I was?”

  Drew looked up at her in surprise. “Actually, that was Maz. He came up with the bright idea to give the guy what he wanted so he told him you were dead and that we were charging him with your murder. He soon changed his tune after that. Said we were too stupid to understand what he was trying to do. So Maz asked him to explain and the guy spilled the lot.”

  Harriet’s smile faded. “And your other suspect? The one you arrested without telling me about...”

  “We let him go. What do you mean I didn’t tell you?”

  “You said you’d call me. That night outside Bianca’s house, you said you’d call and you never did.”

  “Yeah, I did. I called your house and there was no answer so I left a message on your machine.”

  Harriet shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Yes, it does,” Drew said indignantly. “I kept my promise, Harriet.”

  “Ok.” She nodded and her mind drifted as her eyes slid shut.

  “I should go and let you rest,” Drew said.

  “What?”

  “I’ll go and let you rest...”

  The thought of being left alone filled her with dread and she reached out to him in the dark. “Please. Stay.”

  He studied her face for a moment before he nodded. “I’ll stay.”

  Satisfied, Harriet dropped back against the pillows. Her eyelids were heavy and she let them drift shut as the sound of the machines next to her beeped.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Harriet sat on the side of the bed, with her bag of meagre belongings packed up next to her.

  “When did they say they’d discharge you?” Drew asked from the chair in the corner of the room. He glanced down at his watch.

  “If you have to be somewhere else, I can make my own way home.” She grinned at him. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

  “I never said you were. But it’s okay. I can wait another while longer.”

  “Has there been any news on Robert’s case?”

  Drew shook his head. “The defence is looking to enter a plea for insanity.”

  Harriet lifted her gaze. “But he’s not insane.”

  Drew shrugged. “He’s not all there either.”

  “An insanity defence only works if you can prove that your client doesn’t understand their actions. Robert Burton knew exactly what he was doing.”

  Drew gave her a helpless look. “It’s not up to me now. We sent our information off to the CPS. It’s for them to proceed.”

  Harriet pursed her lips and glanced up at the door and her heart dropped as she spotted the salt and pepper haired man heading in their direction.

  The moment he’d found out about the incident with Robert Burton, Jonathan had rushed to her side. She’d politely told him she didn’t need his help but as he’d proven before, no wasn’t exactly a word he readily understood.

>   He pushed open the door and peered into the room. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Actually—" Harriet never managed to finish the sentence.

  “What are you doing here?” Drew’s voice was icy and he pushed onto his feet, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

  Harriet’s throat constricted. “Drew, I can explain.”

  “You know him?”

  Harriet nodded and swallowed hard.

  “Why is he here?” Drew turned his furious expression toward her and she inwardly cringed.

  “What’s going on here, Harriet?” Jonathan asked glancing over at Drew in confusion. “Who is this man?”

  “You’ve got some nerve,” Drew said before he pulled himself up short. “I thought I remembered you,” he said. “That first time we met you looked so familiar but I dismissed it...”

  Harriet let her gaze drop to the floor. “I wanted to tell you. I’m so sorry.”

  “What’s going on here?” Jonathan interrupted.

  “Jonathon Connor, this is DI Drew Haskell...”

  Dr Connor glanced over at Drew and cocked an eyebrow in Harriet’s direction. “Forgive me, DI Haskell but I don’t recall—"

  “You treated his fiancée,” Harriet said. “Freya Northrup.”

  Jonathon glanced back at her and his expression cleared. “Ah, I see...”

  “Is that all you’ve got to say?” Drew exploded, his face white with rage. “You killed her.”

  “I did no such thing,” Jonathan said, anger causing his voice to rise in equal measure. “Your fiancée was a very troubled young woman. I was trying to help her.”

  “She was fine until she came into contact with you.” Drew took a step toward Jonathan.

  Harriet slipped off the bed and moved between the two men. “Drew, I’m sorry. I should have—"

  “You,” he said. “I confided in you. I told you and you lied to me. You knew all along... How could you?”

  “If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have wanted to work with me.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  She shook her head.