Alex had regained her composure at the surprise visit and with it, her control.
‘I ask again, what is this about?’ she responded, without offering confirmation or denial.
‘Your patient is in police custody at the moment. She is under arrest for murder. Her parents have given us your name.’
Alex’s hand flew to her open mouth. It was a mannerism that she had practised in the mirror many times. It had taken a while to strike the balance between soap opera overkill and first year drama school, but as with every expression in her repertoire it had been observed, practised, honed and perfected.
One of her earliest lessons had been the funeral of her paternal grandmother. She was five years old and stood between her parents on a grey October afternoon.
Alex had been transfixed at the raw emotion of the mourners.
The old woman had smelled awful and had horrible, ugly spots all over her skin. Alex was pleased the old goat was gone.
Beside the grave, she had watched the mourners’ expressions. The downcast eyes, the stoic withholding of emotion, the biting of the lips and, most infuriatingly, the tears.
Alex stared and stared down at the coffin without blinking, fixing her gaze on the stem of a lily atop the casket. Sure enough, her eyes started to water. She recognised that the mourners with the most tears had trembling shoulders. She added that in and managed the two together.
She felt her father’s hand squeeze her shoulder and although she didn’t like the physical contact she had been pleased with what she’d learned and had used her new skills at every opportunity.
Now, Alex’s database told her the correct response for her current situation was shock.
She gripped the edge of the desk for support. ‘No, I’m sorry. You must be mistaken.’
‘I’m afraid not. Miss Willis has admitted to the crime.’
Of course she had, stupid bitch. ‘But … who … where?’
She noted that the male glanced at the female. A slight nod was the response, barely noticeable. The female’s expression, Alex observed, had not changed once. She would be a formidable poker player.
‘She stabbed a man named Allan Harris.’
He said no more, knowing that she would immediately recognise the name.
Alex shook her head and lowered her gaze to the floor. ‘I’m sorry, but this is quite a lot to take in.’
‘Of course, Doctor. Please take a moment.’
Alex did take a minute, to organise her thoughts. How could she turn this meeting to her advantage? To start with, she needed more information. She looked at DS Bryant imploringly, doubt etching her features. ‘Are you able to tell me what happened?’
Bryant hesitated but didn’t look to his superior before nodding. As she’d hoped, they had come to her for information and sought her co-operation.
‘Miss Willis waited for the victim, either in or close to a dark alley, and then stabbed him with a kitchen knife. The first wound was most likely fatal.’
There was more than one wound. Alex closed her eyes for a second, selecting a lighter shade of disbelief. ‘Oh my goodness, I still can’t believe it.’
Things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but all she needed to measure her success was a face-to-face meeting with Ruth. She pushed her hair behind one ear with slightly trembling fingers. ‘I thought we had made such progress.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Can I see her? She must be desperate.’
‘That won’t be possible, Doctor,’ the female said definitely.
Damn, Alex thought. That would have solved all her problems. Given enough time she could probably have worked on DS Bryant, but DI Stone, clearly, was the boss. Alex would bet the BMW outside that the intense detective inspector had been responsible for the speedy apprehension of her subject.
‘If we could just ask you a couple of questions?’
Alex returned her attention to the male. ‘Please feel free to ask any questions you like, however I will only answer the ones that I feel are ethically permissible.’
She softened her words with just a hint of a smile, meant solely for him.
The detective took out his notebook. ‘Can you tell us how long Miss Willis has been a patient of yours?’
‘Ruth has been coming to me for about three months.’
The detective’s forehead wrinkled. ‘Oh, that’s quite some time after the rape. What made her seek help at that point?’
‘Court order after a suicide attempt. Quite common for victims of rape.’
‘Was she using any prescription medication?’
Alex shook her head. She preferred her subjects clean. ‘No, she had been dosed by her GP for years on different antidepressants, which, at times, numbed the feelings, but they never worked for long and we removed her from that dependency together. I find other methods to be more effective in the treatment for victims of rape.’
‘Like what?’
‘Cognitive Restructuring.’
‘And how did she react to that treatment?’
Alex shook her head. ‘I’m not going to give you specifics about my patient. That information is confidential, but I can tell you about the psychology of a rape victim, understood?’
DS Bryant nodded his acceptance. The female detective had lowered herself into the patient’s chair and crossed her long legs. She appeared either totally relaxed or bored to death.
‘You obviously know the details of this case, so you understand just how horrific this attack was. A rape victim can suffer many after-effects, primarily self-blame. A rape victim might think they deserved the attack either because their behaviour invited it or because there is something in their personality that attracted it. They may feel that they should have done something differently. A victim of rape will often blame themselves.
‘Self-blame brings with it shame about the incident. Shame is more destructive than people can possibly imagine. Rape victims sometimes isolate themselves from their previous life, friends, family members, but most destructively, shame breeds anger and aggression.’
Alex paused to give either of her visitors an opportunity to ask her any questions.
‘Shame has a special link to anger. When victims are shamed and angry they are motivated to seek revenge.’
‘Had Ruth accepted that it wasn’t her fault?’
‘Ruth was prepared to consider that it wasn’t totally her fault.’
Alex enjoyed speaking about a subject of which she was knowledgeable, but she was aware of DI Stone’s attention travelling around the room; appraising the certificates, looking at the photograph that was just within her view.
‘Can you tell me what the treatment might entail?’
‘Cognitive Restructuring involves four steps. The first step is to identify problematic cognitions, known as automatic thoughts, which are dysfunctional or negative views of one’s self, the world or the future. Next is identifying the cognitive distortions in the automatic thoughts. What follows is a rational disputation of the automatic thoughts and finally developing a rational rebuttal to the automatic thoughts.’
‘Phew, sounds complicated.’
Alex smiled, selecting charm as her weapon of choice. ‘Not really, I just threw in some big words to impress you. Simply put, it’s a method of retraining the response of the mind to destructive thoughts.’
There was no reaction from the woman but DS Bryant coloured slightly. ‘Was it helpful to her?’
It would have been if I’d actually used the technique, Alex thought. It would have helped her come to terms with the attack and move on with her life, but for Alex that would have been self-defeating.
‘I thought she was responding well to it.’
Alex’s attention was drawn to the female detective who was checking something on her mobile phone. The woman did not have the decency to listen while she was being generous with her expertise.
‘Is there anything in that method of treatment that could have had any impact on Ruth doing what she did?’
Alex shook her head. ‘The treatment focuses on the thoughts of the victim and trying to change those patterns rather than on the attack itself.’
‘Did she say anything to give you any indication of her intentions?’
Alex decided she’d given enough free information. If they wanted any more they could go and study for ten years or pay for her knowledge. ‘I’m afraid I can’t share any of the details of what was discussed in our sessions.’
‘But this is a murder enquiry.’
‘And you have a confession, therefore I’m not obstructing your investigation into the crime.’
Bryant smiled at her, acknowledging the point.
She smiled back. ‘And, one last thing. If I contacted you every time one of my patients explored a fantasy, people would begin to talk.’
Bryant cleared his throat. Yes, now she was having fun. Men were so much easier to manipulate; such simple, vain creatures.
Alex lowered her voice to little more than a whisper, as though there was only the two of them in the room. So far, this had been a one-way relationship and Alex now wanted payment for her services. ‘Can you just tell me how the poor girl is doing?’
Bryant hesitated. ‘Not too well, I’m afraid. It seems that the victim was sorry for what he’d done.’
Alex steeled herself for what was to come.
‘Oh no, that must be terrible for her.’
Bryant nodded. ‘She’s wracked by guilt. It seems she’d never considered that possibility. In her mind he was still the monster that raped her, not a man who was remorseful and sorry for what he did, and now she’s taken his life.’
Rage burned through Alex’s veins. If she’d been alone, ornaments would have flown and furniture would have travelled. The fucking stupid woman felt guilty for killing the bastard. She actually felt remorse for snuffing the life of a fucking monster who had brutally raped and beaten her and left her for dead.
Alex hid her anger behind a benign smile. Ruth had let her down badly. She’d had high hopes for that subject and she’d ended up being pathetically feeble-minded. Alex wanted her here right now so she could gladly wring her neck.
‘Doctor, we’d like to know a bit more about Ruth’s state of mind at the time of the attack.’
So here it was, the reason for the visit and for the delay on a criminal charge. The detectives were carrying out background checks in case the defence tried to plead insanity. They didn’t want a murder charge that wouldn’t stick.
‘That’s really difficult to state. I wasn’t with her on the night in question so …’
‘But would you be prepared to testify in the defence of Ruth Willis that she was not of sound mind when carrying out the attack?’
‘It would be foolish to assume that because she was seeing a psychiatrist she is insane.’
‘That didn’t quite answer the question, Doctor.’
Of course not, but she was building the tension and showing them that this was a difficult situation for her. Still the female officer had not looked her way.
‘That was the intention. You have to understand that I have known Ruth some time and have built up a rapport during our sessions. She trusts me.’
‘But we have to understand her a little better before moving forward.’
Alex understood that her next statement could change the course of Ruth’s life. If her expert opinion was that Ruth was suffering diminished responsibility or some type of temporary psychosis, there was a good chance that the CPS would consider charging Ruth with manslaughter to ensure a conviction.
Whatever she said next could make the difference between a life sentence and five to eight years.
‘No, I cannot in all good conscience testify that Ruth Willis is insane.’
Boy, she hated it when people disappointed her.
She had their attention now. Both of them. Bryant in particular became more animated.
‘Doctor, would you actually be willing to testify for the prosecution?’
Alex remained silent for a couple of minutes, appearing to torture herself between loyalty to her patient and good, honest civic duty.
She let out a long breath. ‘Only if absolutely necessary.’
There you go, Ruth. Payback’s a bitch.
Bryant shot a look at his superior before extending his hand. ‘Thank you for your time, Doctor Thorne. You’ve been a tremendous help.’
Alex nodded silently, still dealing with the internal struggle.
Bryant headed towards the door and the detective inspector followed. She stopped at the doorway and turned. The female detective spoke for only the second time. Her voice was low, smooth and confident.
‘Just one last thing, Doctor Thorne. I’m a little surprised that with your training, your years in practice and the length of time spent with your client, you couldn’t see this coming.’
Alex met the woman’s unflinching gaze and saw a coldness there that sent a frisson of excitement along her spine. Their eyes locked for a few seconds before the detective shrugged and headed out of the room.
Alex stared at the closed door. Although the anger still ran red hot through her veins it was tempered with intrigue. One thing she never shied away from was a challenge.
As a plan began to form in her head, Alex smiled. When one door closed, another one opened.
TWENTY-ONE
Shane Price stood back as the door opened. A man and woman left and got into a Golf.
Despite his rage, Shane’s heart quickened slightly as he caught a brief glimpse of her closing the door. His anger paused as he contemplated her perfection.
Emotion erupted within him. He hated her, he loved her, he needed her.
It wasn’t a sexual desire within him. He felt no sexual desire for anyone. His ability for that had been destroyed years ago.
What he craved was her perfection, her purity. She was so clean. He knew from their time together that her hair smelled of coconut and that she used a jasmine-scented body wash. Her nails were free of polish but manicured and tidy. Her clothes were fresh and crisp.
His own clothes were the ones he’d been wearing when he’d left Hardwick House in the middle of the night. The light blue jeans were stiff with dirt. The knees caked in grime from ‘working’ behind the derelict bingo hall in Cradley Heath. Each time he’d accepted only a fiver as payment; just enough to eat.
It wasn’t the dirt on the outside that bothered him. It was the filth on the inside. Every cell of his body was soiled with his past. Shane often visualised removing each body part one at a time and washing it in hot soapy water. If he scrubbed hard enough he could put them all back, shiny and new.
But Alex had taken that hope away from him. He would never be free of the memories of his uncle’s organ throbbing inside him. Or the sickness he felt when he recalled the soft caresses to his hair and the intimate murmurs of encouragement that had accompanied the acts. The whispered endearments had been worse than the rapes.
Shane felt the bile rise in his throat as the memories engulfed him. He lunged into a side street and bent over. His hard-earned McDonalds hit the pavement.
The rage returned so forcefully he almost folded to the ground. Until his last meeting with Alex there had always been that tiny sliver of hope that he could be cleansed. That somehow, someone would eventually find a way to remove the grime.
But in that final conversation she had taken that dream away from him. She had taken everything, and now she had to pay.
Shane wiped the spittle from his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. He already knew how he’d get in. A small bathroom window was slightly open at all times.
Shane knew he would get through the small gap. As a child he had excelled at fitting himself into small spaces. To hide.
The next time she left the house he would gain access to her home, her safe place, and then he would wait.
TWENTY-TWO
‘Oh, come on, Bryant. Why would she agree to testify against her own patient?’ Kim asked,
back in the squad room.
Bryant shrugged as he opened his lunchbox. He appraised the contents although they had never once changed: an apple, a ham and cheese sandwich and an Actimel drink.
‘Conscience.’
Kim remained silent. Bryant, she guessed, had been taken in by the cool, attractive woman and the flirtatious smile, and even Kim had to concede that there was a certain allure to her persona, but a couple of things were not sitting well with her. They had visited the psychiatrist to get information and that’s what they’d got, but Kim couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that they’d come away with more than they’d asked for.
Kim also felt that her natural instinct for detecting emotion had been switched off the second they walked in the door. Perversely, despite her own emotional detachment she was perceptive to the emotions of other people and yet with Alex she had felt nothing.
‘Jeez, Guv, what’s your problem? She’s answered our questions and agreed to testify. Happy Birthday to us.’
‘And you’re not the least bit swayed by her looks and flirting?’
‘Not at all.’ Bryant held a sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other. ‘Granted, she’s a very attractive woman, a bit on the skinny side for me, but last I heard being gorgeous was not against the law. I mean, ultimately she knows what she’s talking about. Those certificates didn’t come out of Photoshop.’
‘I’m not saying she’s a fraud … ’
Bryant threw down his pen. ‘Then what are you saying, Guv? The doctor told us everything we wanted to hear. We know that Ruth Willis is not insane and CPS are going to be our best friends forever. This case could be tried in the River Severn and come out dry. It’s watertight so I just don’t see the problem.’
Kim rubbed her chin. Everything he said was true, but it didn’t stop the nibbling in her belly.
‘And that crack on the way out, what was that about?’ Bryant asked.
‘Just an observation.’
‘She’s a doctor, not God. How could she know what Ruth was going to do?’
Kim could feel Bryant’s frustration as reflected in the state of his appearance. His jacket had been discarded, the tie knot loosened and the top button of his shirt undone.
Evil Games Page 9