I still got along wonderfully with Matt’s sister. I had long since stopped worrying that she would recognize me from several years earlier when Nicole and I had been joking around in the restaurant, pretending to be strippers just to annoy them, unaware how our paths would eventually cross. And I was rather happy that she had introduced me to Dr Hodge who had given me the opportunity to work with him as a research assistant, finish my PhD studies and co-author a book on criminal psychopathic behaviour. The book had recently been published and my picture on the back cover conveyed someone older and intellectual. Longer hair would have made me look like a school-girl. I had decided my “butch” appearance would remain indefinitely and so no danger of his sister remembering anything existed.
Things had worked out for me so far and there was no reason to believe anything would change. I was not bored at all, at least I did not think I was, and looked forward to a wonderful future; and maybe all the “weirdness” just made life all the more exciting.
I had considered how well I could keep these secrets since my profession had put me into the public eye. I was not worried about all the ghosts – my victims in their various resting places. There were no indications any would come back to haunt me. Maybe now I could contemplate infinite possibilities. I had been a speaker at many functions thanks to the connections Matt’s sister had provided me; I had even recently been approached by a Republican legislative leader, a friend of Dr Hodge’s, a Joseph Faber, who asked if I had considered the possibility of running for office. He said that he could introduce me to just the right people if I would consider the idea. Well, of course I would consider it! I loved the idea of public debate, campaigning and the notoriety it would bring. As long as I could keep my secrets all would be great!
When I looked at Nicole asleep by my side, I snuggled up to her and thought about how happy I was at that moment. I had the absolute best of both worlds: I had a family…a complex family, but that was certainly my choice! And my professional life was advancing as well. If the rest of the world would see me as some sort of mentally disturbed person I could not care less. If I died tomorrow, I reasoned, they would not care, so why should I worry about what they thought of my choices even if I were exposed? The only people I had strong feelings for were Matt, Nicole and all our children. The rest of the world could evaporate for all I cared. I had found misery trying to live in the confines of society and if rebellion, and living as I pleased, gave me happiness then so be it! Yet, as I pondered Faber’s proposition a part of me felt something was missing. Maybe I missed the adrenaline rush Nicole and I had felt while engaged in our quest to remove degenerates from society. Still I told myself those days were over – they had to be. I had a family and a promising future and would have to settle with whatever thrills that future could provide. I hoped that would be enough…couldn’t I adapt like almost everyone else in modern suburbia, while enjoying the fruits of my unconventionality?
Chapter 2
It was funny, the next day I awoke on the couch to the noise of some children’s cartoon on the TV. I had fallen asleep the evening before and Nicole had not woken me. My kids were fixated on the TV and did not even notice that I was naked as I got up and slowly walked to the kitchen. Nicole was busy making breakfast but not too busy to smile and come over to me, “Sorry darling for not waking you. When Lilith woke up I went in to her and slept in the nursery. While you go put some clothes on I’ll put the food on the table. Quick, before the kids see you!”
It was rather amusing, at home Matt and I were fairly unconcerned with our state of dress in front of our kids, but Nicole felt children should not be exposed to their parent’s nudity. She seemed far more traditional and conservative than either Matt or I. However, I was okay with getting dressed. I had a lot of work to do on the computer with my most recent research project.
I had a fascinating job – I was working at the university with Dr Hodge on a study of non-criminal psychopaths. I had to gather information that week and forward it to the rest of the researchers. The next week I would be able to go in and do a series of interviews with people who had volunteered to have us examine them to see if they matched our criteria. Once we gained a large enough sample of these psychopaths, you know, lawyers and the like, we could see how they had been able to maintain “normal” lives even with their particular traits.
Nicole came over to the computer, rested her arms on my shoulders, and teased me, “Melanie, I just finished your book – really interesting – an autobiography?” I smiled and took her hand, “Maybe it is, are you sure you feel safe in the same room with me?” She nodded and said, “Maybe you are the one who should be worried. After all, of all the women in the world you chose me and maybe that says something.” At that she gave me a gentle kiss before going back to the kids eating at the table.
I looked over the profiles of the people who had volunteered for the study. I examined the answers on their questionnaires and the information they submitted so I could sift through people who might just be wasting our time with some sort of psychopathic “shark” fantasy of themselves. These people were usually pretty easy to spot as their reflections were often confused and filled with guilt and self-pity for actions they had done which had hurt friends and loved ones. Perhaps a jilted lover, or angry wife, had told them they were a “psycho” and the idea stuck. It did not matter to me what their circumstances were, their tragic sob stories, they wound up in the rejection pile because most had no idea that they were not psychopaths, they were generally just confused and seeking a dangerous-sounding label. .
Then there were the ones who seemed close, these people were difficult to sort. Some appeared to be suffering from Asperger’s or were borderlines. These were the people who had always felt like outsiders, who just did not seem to fit in, and who were unable to understand other people’s emotions. Maybe they wanted an explanation as to why they had problems and always seemed to be rejected by those around them and wanted a diagnosis so they could understand themselves better. Sadly, for them, that was not what our study was about so they wound up in the rejection pile.
Then there were the ones who seemed detached, had quite elaborate writing skills and who never indicated any guilt or empathy on any of the questions we had included as our indicators. These people seemed to brag of their abilities to read people’s emotions and manipulate situations yet they indicated little or none of the very emotions they seemed adept at recognizing in others. One respondent said that he had planned to go fishing on the Rogue River with his best friend who he had known since grade school. He received a call from his friend’s wife telling him his friend had died in an accident at work. He wrote that he tried to console the wife yet after the phone call the only thing he could think about was who he could ask to take his friend’s place on the trip. Then, within a month, he was cheating on his wife with his dead friend’s widow. Another candidate said that when his wife of fifteen years announced she was going to leave him he begged her not to go, that he would die without her, but he managed to establish a new relationship with a woman within three days – and he eventually married the woman.
It looked as if we were getting a few good people for our study, except we did not have any women in this sample yet. That sort of bugged me. I would have liked to talk with a woman who was empty of emotion, or at least ranked really low on the empathy scale. None of the four female candidates seemed close to what I was looking for. As I was thinking about the lack of female applicants I sat back a minute and asked myself if I wanted women for the sake of the study, or to learn more about myself. I looked over the questions again, I mean I had helped develop them with Dr Hodge, but this time I wondered how it would look if I answered them truthfully and let him analyse me.
It seemed that the big variable that raised our red flags was the lack of empathy, disregard for social norms, and criminal activities. Well, I certainly scored high on two of these. Yet I wondered about the empathy. I really loved my children, and Matt and Nicol
e, but I felt blank towards others. I wondered many times though, what exactly is love? Did I feel what others felt or was it that Matt and Nicole provided me companionship, loyalty and affirmation? I wondered, if Matt had a heart attack would I just shift to Nicole? Was that the original reason I refused to let either of them go; and why I would go to any lengths to ensure my relationships with them were preserved? Was Nicole assurance that if anything happened to Matt I would not be alone? Is that why I never worried about him while he was flying around the world as long as I was with Nicole? Then again, when I was with Matt I never really gave much thought about Nicole’s well-being. Perhaps that is why I wanted them both with me all the time, not because I feared for them when they were gone, but that I desired the attention I would get from two people in the same home.
What about the children then? I would kill anyone who tried to hurt either Nicole’s children or my own. I had once read the Bible where Jesus said something about hanging a millstone around the neck of people who hurt children and tossing them into the sea – and I was perfectly capable of actually doing it! Was that love? I was devoted to them, played with them, and when they got hurt I actually felt for them – and that was the difference between the adults in my life and the children. Maybe I truly did have empathy for my kids, and Nicole’s – and I vowed to assist them in every way possible to become happy and successful in life. I would certainly do a better job than my selfish father or neurotic mother.
The week passed quickly, and the weather had turned rather gloomy, which was common for the middle of May. I left for the university early to make it before any of the subjects I had contacted would show up. Dr Hodge saw me coming in the door and asked “Melanie, how wonderful! Could I have a moment of your time?” I wondered if I had made a mistake or something as I entered his office and he shut the door. “Melanie, I have good news! It seems a lot of people are interested in psychopaths – our book is doing exceptionally well for its genre.” I was quite pleased, more for the notoriety I would receive than the money. Then Dr. Hodge hit me with a bombshell, “Melanie, after this study is completed I am going to retire.” I was stunned, I had no idea he was ready to leave the university – I was also worried about what this could mean for my future. The logical successor to Dr Hodge was Professor Landin.
Fredrik Landin had never liked me – in fact one time he accused me of being more “histrionic” and attention seeking than most of the people we had researched. Another time when I was praised by Dr Hodge I heard him mumble something in the background about me being a “narcissist.” Before Hodge’s surprise announcement I had no reason to get along with Landin but now I would have to find a way to get him on my side or either lose my position, or wind up with all the tedious tasks that would bore anyone as creative as me to tears.
It did not take long to find out how Landin felt. After Dr Hodge called everyone together that morning to make the announcement, and the staff expressed their sorrow for his leaving, Landin came over to me and stated, “Oh, too bad about Dr Hodge retiring. Guess that leaves you as the only religious nut job on our team.” I looked at him without response for a moment and then just asked, “What did you say?” He smugly looked right at me, “You heard me. You are the one who seems to enjoy all the attention of those right wing fanatics. I can’t say others here share your devotion to twisting psychology to fit whatever agenda you so desire.”
It would not be to my advantage to challenge him at this time. I merely replied, “I suppose if you have any problems you can talk with our superior.” He grinned and said, “I will do that. Oh wait, in a month that will be my role – I will be boss around here.” I suspected I should be careful of what I said or how I acted – people knew he did not like me and I doubted anyone was willing to risk winding up on his hit list just to stand up for me. I chose silence as my response.
I was left trying to figure out some way to fight back and defeat Landin. Sadly, I could not think of anything at that moment. At least being a co-author of what appeared to be a popular book would help me get a good position at another university, I reasoned. However, I did not want to move, and demand for people with my background in higher education was somewhat limited in the Portland area.
I was anxious at that moment, but I had to pull together for the tasks before me. This, after all, was the fun part of research – actually talking with people and attempting to get into their heads. And these were not “typical” people – these were likely psychopathic. Perhaps I could get new insights on how people in the “normal” world were able to function yet hold little empathy; maybe I wanted a glimmer of insight into myself. I had not had much opportunity to directly interview that many of the convicts for the last study, I had only been there to take notes, to assist Dr Hodge in analysis, and of course later do most of the writing of the book. Now I had my very own group of test subjects. I was at least happy I was able to conduct this research while others on our research team did tests on responses to images of brutality as well as the fear index examinations with the subjects. I preferred my job.
The first observation I had, even before the interviews were to begin, was just how normal, how average, several of the men appeared who were waiting to be called in. What was most interesting, however, was that several women were waiting there with them – all of them young and attractive. I thought what might be interesting in the future would be an interview with such women – the ones who were involved with such men. I would be most interested in how our test subjects responded to questions regarding relationships – my suspicion was that their male partners were adept at seduction.
I was not disappointed at all the first day – I interviewed a chronically unemployed man in his late twenties whose older girlfriend, who was from a wealthy family, provided him all the money he could ask for – yet even then he cheated on her constantly, with both men and women. Another was a self-described popular school teacher who functioned quite well and had won several teaching awards. Then there was a sales representative for a large pharmacological firm. All had one thing in common: they were superb manipulators and all three tried their seduction techniques on me while the interview was taking place. I found it amusing to say the least, especially since they should have realized I was not easy prey.
On the way to work the next day I received a text from Dr Hodge announcing that he was called out of town for a few days. Landin would be left in charge. I felt that same anxiety that I had experienced in middle school when I was on my way to school and feared what some bullies might have in store for me that day. I became angry as I realized that Landin could make my life as miserable as those kids had done with their taunts and occasional physical abuse. Yet I had to repress my anger and try to focus. I arrived somewhat late, and as I entered the door Landin looked at his watch and shook his head. I was really getting irritated with him, but again, I had to ignore it. I noticed there were two gentlemen in the waiting room – one was a young man in his twenties and the other a distinguished man with somewhat long gray hair combed back and who looked like he had the body of a thirty year old but was, according to his profile, sixty-two. My colleague and I went in to the room and I motioned to the younger man to come with me, but the older man asked, “I would prefer to talk with you if it is okay.” It did not matter really so I asked him into my office.
His profile only had a first name “Vincent” listed so I asked his last name but he merely said, “That’s not really important now, is it?” I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “Not at this time I suppose.” So then I started the interview with the typical questions about what had motivated him to come in for this study, his job, relationship status and why he believed he might be “different” than most people. One answer most intrigued me, I asked him when he first noticed something in his personality that set him apart and he replied, “I always felt at odds with society. I felt different – I could see the whole picture when those around me had no such ability. I found comfort in my intellectual connecti
on to God and trying to find a higher purpose in life. Yet the death of my daughter was my epiphany! The only purpose is that there is no purpose.” He looked at me blankly and asked, “How old are you Miss Lindberg?” I was taken back, I asked how old he thought I was and he said, “I cannot be sure, you look like maybe…if you grew your hair out you could pass for a teenager.” I wondered if he was trying to flatter me into a seduction. Of course, I thought to myself how amusing this was. Then he continued, “Like I said, before my daughter died, over twenty years ago, I had been a rather devoted Christian. I came from a wealthy family and was an only child.” He now was gazing out the window and talking in a reflective manner, “I had earned a degree in architecture, after all, my dad was a successful developer, but my interests were mostly in society, politics and religion. I put most of my time into religious causes. I even did a humanitarian mission for three years in Brazil. When I came back I became a campus ministries organizer – I was exceptional in my job and everyone told me I was a fantastic public speaker. More than once I was asked to run for political office but for some reason I just didn’t find that something I wanted.”
I asked, “How did your parents feel about your religious activities?” He kept looking out the window, “They indulged me – whatever I wanted, they gave me. My mother reasoned that so many of her friend’s children were wasting their lives partying and showing off wealth that they could afford to maintain my lifestyle of spreading the faith.” I asked about relationships and he smiled and looked down and started playing with his wedding ring, “Well, Melanie…it’s okay to refer to you by your first name, isn’t it? I have read your book so please pardon me for my informality.”
Deliverance from Evil Page 2