“Last time I looked at my face in the mirror it seemed to answer to that name,” he answered, giving a self-deprecating shrug and a cautious smile.
She stood up now and held out her hand, “Beck Singleton, from the Northern Territory, she said.
Now he raised an inquiring eyebrow, he really did have a curious and expressive face, “A singular origin and a singular name,” he said, then, “Pardon the pun, too many singles all in one place.”
She gave him a searching look, “Way to cryptic for me, Doctor. But yes I am here, waiting for an appointment with you, though still rather early. But I decided to sit here to read about you rather than wait down in a coffee shop. Your biography is impressive, but I would have not joined it to your face if I had run into you in the street, perhaps in the same way that my life is full of singularities, yours is full of little discordances.”
Now he genuinely smiled, “Ah, someone to rise to the challenge of the mind. I do like that! My work with memory and the mind is like riddles within riddles. I fear it has affected both my speech and manner.
“But seeing you are not waiting for me in a coffee shop and I am yet to have a morning coffee, please come inside and join me in having one. I am yet to brew a morning coffee which I need to fire up my memory and mental faculties in preparation for my formal meeting with you and the other lawyer, a QC his clerk said, who I presume is yet to arrive. So rather than me drinking my caffeine dose alone, perhaps you will share it with me?”
He showed her through to an anteroom at the back of his examination room. It held a computer with a large screen on one side and a mini kitchen with a gleaming coffee machine and a large jar of chocolate cookies next to a sink on the other side. Between the two places was a large window which looked out to the river, in front of which were two comfortable chairs with a small table between them.
He indicated to Beck to have a seat, filled and pushed a button on the coffee machine, then set two cups and plates, each with a cookie, on the table. He sat silently in the opposite chair while the coffee bubbled away, filling the room with a delightful aroma.
In a minute the coffee was made. He poured them both a small cup and offered cream and sugar, saying, “This is one of my American acquired indulgences, to sit and sip my coffee with a dollop of cream and sugar, along with an American cookie before I start on my day’s work, that of trying to understand how the mind works and, when it stops working properly, how to put it back together.
“I think my days of work are like making complex jigsaw patterns, trying to find shapes amongst so many mixed up bits. The mind is like that; it holds vast stores of information and, remarkably, manages to keep them organized and retrievable, like a massive filing system. What is surprising about memory is not when it malfunctions or fails, but how, in all the millions of everyday tasks, it works so superbly. Understanding how and why it works, as well as the reasons when it does not, is my life’s great challenge.
“But we should leave business until its time has come, for now tell me about you, the singular girl from the singular NT?”
Despite the bizarre introduction she found this man was easy to talk to. She told him about her study to become a lawyer and her job in the NT, she even told him a little of her difficult life with her mother. But she did not want to get stuck there with expressions of sympathy, so she quickly moved the conversation on, asking about him and what had brought him to Brisbane, when a glittering career in the US seemed on offer.
“Well, like you in the NT, this is country is home. After my years in the US I found I was homesick for Australia and particularly for its more tropical places, but yet I needed a big city to pursue my work so Brisbane seemed most desirable. Now I have moved here I find myself content. Neither of my parents is alive and I do not have other family. Sometimes I think of moving north, but it would be hard to sustain my practice and expertise in a smaller town, so here seems to offer the best of both worlds.”
There was a tap on the door and the receptionist indicated the barrister had now arrived. Dr Sangster went out to meet him and bring him in, saying Beck should finish her biscuit and coffee before she joined them.
Dr Sangster poured the barrister his own cup of coffee and went into to examination room for full introductions before they proceeded with their meeting. She and the barrister explained what they needed, for him the most critical requirement was for absolute privacy in relation to his client, for her it was the need to have an objective examination that would stand up to legal scrutiny, but which did not add further injury to an already damaged person.
After this both gave a sketchy outline of the situation, the claim of loss of memory by a person accused of a very serious crime in the NT, the need to evaluate if it was real, and provide a confidential report on this for legal consideration, but without any specifics. It was all generalities.
Dr Sangster put up his hands, saying. “I need to stop you both there. My rooms are private and soundproof. The other consultants all are away doing hospital work this morning. The receptionist is the only other person on the premises, as of now. She is paid to answer the phone and I have told her not to disturb us.
“So I feel we are going in circles and not getting to the point. I am happy to give an undertaking for total confidentiality in relation to this meeting. But if I am to examine this person in any capacity, whether to give you a report or to try and treat her, I need an accurate history of what has happened in order to give you advice about how best to go about it.
“Each person is different, every examination is different. It is something I need to plan carefully before I meet the client and I need to be as open as possible about my knowledge once I know them. I cannot do this if both of you keep talking in circles. Perhaps we can begin by you both deciding on whether you are willing to give me full information about this matter. Then when you have decided that we can decide on next steps from there. I will go out and talk to the receptionists about my patients for the afternoon and while I am there you can talk between yourselves and decide whether you can be sufficiently frank for us to proceed. There is no point going further unless I understand what has happened. If I do not know what happened I risk causing much more harm in the process. I will not do that.”
With that he walked out of the room. Now they had to rapidly strike up an agreement about how to deal with the unknown Susan, how much to share with each other and how much each could tell Dr Sangster.
They quickly agreed they were both happy to engage this man, he was the best in his field and despite some quirky mannerisms there was no doubt about his skill. So they would jointly tell him about the murder trial, Susan’s disappearance and the inquest.
When they got to that point the barrister informed Beck that the information he held about Susan’s current situation could only be disclosed privately without Beck present, because there had been previous internal leaks from the NT government about this case. She winced internally at this, realizing she was on thin ice, and agreed that she would leave the meeting while this information was provided, then return once it was done to confirm arrangements from here.
So they called Doctor Sangster back in and began the story together.
Beck led off. The person of interest is Susan McDonald, I am not sure if you have heard of her, the sensationally labelled ‘Crocodile Woman’.
Beck watched an expressive eyebrow go up as the name was said, and a small nod to indicate that he knew exactly who she was. Over ten minutes she gave a quick summary of the agreed publicly known events from Susan first coming to Australia, travelling in the company of a man with the alias of Mark Bennet, discovering his role in the disappearance of other backpackers and then killing him. She told of the discovery of the head and forearm, the evidence linking to Susan, of her extradition to stand trial and of her guilty plea to murder, but her refusal to describe what happened and why.
She told of sentencing day with a general expectation of a twenty year sentence, then of the sensat
ional evidence of the day about the texts linking Susan’s action to her belief that this man had killed the other backpackers, giving grounds for self-defence, then how the judge had ruled that while this was investigated Susan MacDonald be released on bail, only for her to vanish less than a week later.
Beck told of information suggesting she had become suicidal, evidence suggesting her return to the waterhole of the murder, and then of the failure of all further inquiries to determine her fate. Beck said there had been a general view she was dead but with lots of doubters who thought she had fled justice. Then Beck told how the inquest had returned an open finding about her fate while also making a finding that, despite her guilty plea, there was good evidence she had acted in self-defence.
Beck then told of recent contact by parties claiming to represent her, indicating she was alive but had a total memory loss of these events and refusing to disclose her location. She also told him that the desire was now to resolve her legal situation with the idea of a pardon based on the inquest evidence along with her inability to testify. But in order for this to be pursued they needed to be an assessment of her mental state, to determine whether the memory loss appeared genuine. They also sought advice on the risk of further harm if she was to become aware of what had happened before or if was returned to jail or subjected to further legal processes.
When she had finished her recitation, Ross Sangster leaned back, flexed his fingers and looked at her intently. “Well you have certainly described a situation which captures my interest. Of course you are asking me to play God and tell you consequences of finding out unremembered events, which is unknowable, but I can at least evaluate her current psychiatric state and point out what the key risks are. They are likely to be great.”
Beck returned his ironic tone, “Well, I had not quite mistaken you for God, but as I read you biography, it appears that you are generally regarded as the nearest thing to his surrogate in your field in Australia, so I can settle for an expert opinion from God’s deputy.”
He nodded and smiled back almost warmly, “Well I think you have given me all you can for now about the events up to the disappearance. Now I need to talk to your colleague in private to find out what he can tell me about what has happened since then.
“There is an excellent coffee shop just around the corner from my office. I suggest you allow an hour before you return for us to have a full and frank discussion about the next part. Then, after that, hopefully we can wrap it up fairly quickly and agree on what we need to do from here on.”
So she went and sat in the coffee shop, drinking tea this time. She found herself thinking about this strange man who had burst into her life. He was not particularly physically attractive, though he could improve that with more attention to his grooming. But he had a mind full of sharp edges. They drew her in, challenged and intrigued her own mind. He was a few years older than her, perhaps eight or ten. He had probably got to a stage in his life where his peculiarities where no longer as well held in check and he did not socialise enough outside of his work to knock off his rough edges. But meeting this man with a razor sharp intelligence which probed and tested her own was enjoyable. She had an ill-defined desire to see more of what was hidden below that veneer.
When her phone rang and jolted her back into reality she realized she had been musing for a good half hour. It was time to return to the meeting. Quickly they finalised the contractual arrangements for the fees, examination and report preparation, along with the need for the doctor to be available for legal examination in the NT if required. They agreed on how the client visit was to be managed. Beck agreed to document it and email it out, then each side would come back with their own confirmation within a week.
One thing she asked for and, surprisingly, the other two agreed to, was for the examination to be videoed and the video, at least an edited version, be provided to her to accompany the report. The video was to include shots of both the doctor and patient, with Susan’s face obscured if required. It would cover several questions and the answers which were made.
She knew it would convey a much stronger impression of a real person than any report could. She thought it may help garner support from the Executive Government to seek a pardon. She also had to admit that she felt a burning curiosity to see this girl, how she looked and how she acted, another two years on from when she had last seen her in the witness box.
Chapter 20 – Real Mind Games
It was the middle of February before the examination with Dr Sangster could be scheduled. By now the NT Attorney General had the advice sought from the former High Court judge. While less fulsome than Beck would have liked it gave the view that a pardon could be used in this situation.
They also had a letter from Susan’s parents seeking a pardon for their daughter. It emphasised her cooperation in giving her testimony after release from jail and that this was supported by the inquest findings. It added weight to the legal advice. From the point of view of her boss, the Attorney General, that was a good enough basis to take the request to Executive Government once the assessment of Susan’s mental state was made.
In Brisbane, Vic now sat in the waiting room, while Jane waited at the motel minding the children. He had insisted on a pre-meeting with the Doctor, Ross Sangster before Jane came in, first thing tomorrow.
Her examination was scheduled from 7 am to 8am to ensure that it occurred before anyone else was on the premises. A pre-positioned video camera was to be behind and to the side of where she was sitting. This along with a microphone in front would record what occurred. Vic had the right to see the video tape with the barrister and remove any sensitive parts before a copy was provided for others to view.
Vic had asked to be able to attend the meeting with Susan but this been had declined by Dr Sangster, saying it may interfere with how she acted and responded and it would compromise his own independent evaluation.
Instead Dr Sangster suggested this pre-meeting this afternoon, saying it would allow him to gather further information about Susan, the only name he knew her by. It would also provide Vic with an opportunity to ask his own questions about what was to occur.
So now Vic was just waiting for this, full of anticipation and trepidation at how it could go wrong. He realized that he was jumping at shadows but still it found him on the edge of the chair with anxiety as he sat there. He decided he needed to clear his mind and focus on the now, how to best protect his Jane. So he pictured her smiling face and her playing with David and Anne. He found it helped him to be calm.
A tall and lanky man walked into the room, an overgrown beanpole look, straggly dark hair, mismatched clothes and a slightly weird demeanour. He looked like a mental patient.
Vic felt annoyed at another person being here. Dr Sangster, when they talked yesterday, promised he would be here by himself. Vic asked for this precaution to be extra safe, so no-one else could identify him here.
So what was another person doing being here? Vic was on the edge of getting up and walking out when he realized this strange looking man was talking to him, “Vic Campbell I presume,” he said as he held out his big hand
Vic realized he had mistaken the doctor for a patient. He felt less than reassured and was about to say something cutting.
But the Doctor beat him too it. As he spoke, Vic realized that, despite his weird look, this guy was seriously sharp. “I know I could be mistaken. But, despite your sceptical look, I am really not a madhouse inmate come to visit, Ross Sangster, at your service.”
Vic found himself laughing, “Well I guess my face gave me away Doc, but I have to admit it, you sure had me fooled.”
The Doctor led him out the back and offered him coffee and a chocolate cookie biscuit, while they sat and chatted.
When the coffees were finished this man looked at Vic intently again and said. “First you can stop calling me Doctor, My name is Ross. Second I need to know about this person, Susan. I understand she lives with you, along with her two children.
/> “I know you are very concerned to keep her location hidden. I don’t need to know where you live. But I need to know about her life, anything at all she remembers, what she does each day, about any friends, where she goes, what she does and does not know?
“When I talk to her I must be very careful. I need to ask her questions that demonstrate her knowledge and lack of it. But in doing so I must not undermine her current sense of who she is and cause more damage.”
Vic said, “Well, you need to start by calling her Jane. I did know a Susan once. They tell me the tests show this is the same person, the same DNA or whatever you call it. But the person who lives in this body now is no longer Susan, she knows herself only as Jane, she remembers none other.
“Any suggestion she is not Jane will distress her greatly, it is the only piece of identity she had to hold onto. So you must not suggest that she is another person called Susan.
“It seems to me as if more than just her memory has gone; it is as if the part of her, the part called Susan in another life, has been torn out of her body and mind. Into that vacuum, a new person has moved in and taken up residence. That person is Jane.
“She is the warmest and loveliest person I have ever met. But she is like a person held together by bits of sticky tape. The bits could come apart if something else bad was to happen. Then I don’t know what would be left, would there still be a person there? But the thought it could happen scares the Bejesus out of me. So you need to be careful, really careful.”
Dr Sangster did not reply at once. At first he nodded but said nothing. Then he remained looking intently at Vic, as if deep in contemplation. Finally he spoke. “What do you think? Where have all the memories gone? Are they still sitting somewhere deep inside her, buried to stop the pain, or have they really vanished, been torn out and got lost, so they can never be recovered? Does she need that part of her back?”
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