by John Mead
‘The great thing about Egyptian food is that it can remain heated for a long while before it spoils,’ Alima told her, pulling her into the luxury open plan apartment. ‘Let me give you the tour first. That’s the view,’ she pointed across the open plan, glass fronted living room as she tugged Julie along by the hand, ‘living area, kitchen, bathroom through that door, guest bedroom there and in here is the master bedroom with kingsize bed,’ she breathlessly explained, starting to undo Julie’s jeans.
‘Hold on,’ Julie brought proceedings to a sudden halt, her stern voice making Alima believe she had over-stepped the mark, but with one smooth movement Julie turned Alima around and pulled down the zip on her dress. Alima shrugged and stepped out of the dress, wearing only the skimpiest of knickers, her high heels and lipstick she turned back. Her smiling, inviting, eyes fixed wantonly on Lukula’s. ‘Fuck me!’ Julie stated in a hushed whisper, intending to add ‘you are gorgeous’ but Alima acted before she could speak, taking Julie’s exclamation as a command and, covering her mouth with a kiss, pulled her onto the bed.
Dianne Allaway had arranged for Jenny Cowan’s old doctor, who had treated the girl during her childhood and teenage years to meet with them. The elderly retiree was spritely and only too willing to help, talking at length about Jenny’s troubled upbringing, the suspicions and reports to the foster care service about the often unexplained bruising and occasional broken bones that he saw Jenny and Albert for; reports that came to nothing. How he had seen her after the attack, how changed she was, being almost mute and unresponsive, with occasional unexpected outbursts of violent rage. He also remembered filling in the forms to start proceedings to have her sectioned and later providing background information for the study she was eventually placed on and the name of the professor in Edinburgh who led it, Professor Macalby. However, he had no recollection of Alima Hassan.
It was late when they finished so it seemed only polite, given how smoothly Allaway had organised his itinerary, to offer her dinner. She made a quick call to check that her sister was OK to look after her children, two boys, her husband having been given the boot some years previous. And, being in no hurry they had a drink in the bar afterwards, swapping stories of old cases and what it was like to live in the scenically idyllic Fort William as opposed to the cosmopolitan grandeur of London.
‘The world’s greatest city,’ Matthew informed her, offering another double Ben Nevis ten year old signature single malt whisky. Which she accepted, then another and another, until they wound up in his room for an hour of sweaty, if satisfying passion. Then she had to dash off, swaying slightly as she went, taking a taxi home wondering how she might explain herself to her younger sister, who was normally the one being lectured for coming home late with the smell of whisky and a man on her lips.
The next morning, after a full Scottish breakfast, Merry left early for Edinburgh, feeling slightly worse for wear and a complete dick for once again being the unfaithful arsehole he was. At least he had text Allaway as he waited for the train, thanking her for acting as his guide, introducing him to Ben Nevis and sharing her passion for scotch whisky; he’d have liked to have said more but what was the point? He had to change trains to get to Edinburgh, but he had phoned ahead and had plenty of time before his meeting with Professor Macalby, over coffee and cake at The Elephant House.
‘I do not remember ever actually meeting Jenny Cowan, Inspector,’ Professor Macalby informed Merry, his mid-Atlantic accent telling both of his American birth place and adopted home in the UK, ‘though I’m well aware of her condition and background history from the many reports I received as part of my research project. I published our findings six years ago but it raised more questions than answers about DID, so we have embarked on a much bigger study in collaboration with an American university.’
‘These notes you have been so kind to collate for me,’ Merry, was flicking through a slim A4 folder with papers and data about Jenny Cowan that Macalby had given him, ‘seem to indicate that the project was already underway when she joined.’
‘Yes, new subjects were still being referred, though Doctor Hassan was very lucky to identify Cowan,’
‘Why was that?’ Merry was pleased at the comprehensive file and he wondered if the professor had given any thought to confidentiality but then it was his experience that the general public rarely did when dealing with the police, perhaps that was just a concern of corporations and the guilty.
‘DID cases are relatively rare and often hidden by misdiagnoses, as in Cowan’s case, so Doctor Hassan was lucky in finding her subject,’ Macalby, a small man with thin features and piercing eyes, sniffed before adding, ‘Although, no doubt it was the result of considerable hard work and researching of patient records. As I recall she had a tendency to rush, which made me question some of her results with Cowan, though my concerns were never proven as Cowan left the study before phase two, which would have thrown a spotlight on any inconsistencies.’
‘Inconsistencies?’ Merry puzzled, noticing an attractive Japanese woman taking a snap of the elephant pictures on the wall behind the professor. ‘Didn’t Alima Hassan receive her doctorate based on the work she did with Jenny Cowan.
‘Yes,’ the professor stopped smiling, having posed as he thought for the tourist snap, ‘her work tended to the superficial. I had my concerns about some of the evidence she used in her doctoral thesis, nothing I could pin down at the time. Had Cowan remained in the programme and Hassan’s work put under greater scrutiny in phase two…’ Macalby paused for dramatic effect, ‘Well, to say the least it would have been extremely embarrassing for her if I had been right. That book she went on to publish only proves my point and undoubtedly it dented what little academic status she had. It was more about popular culture, puerile and sensationalist, rather than rigorous academic research. Of course, it would have made her a pretty penny.’
‘You haven’t kept in touch with either Doctor Hassan or Jenny Cowan, professionally or otherwise, I take it?’ Merry, asked wondering if the professor was jealous of Alima’s publishing success. He’d read her book and had found it oddly bland given its subject matter, although he’d put that down to a matter of taste as it had sold very well.
‘No,’ the professor seemed surprised at the question. ‘Doctor Hassan remained in Scotland for a while, I believe, using her brother’s holiday home as a base for writing; rather less bustle in Mallaig than this place I suspect. As for what happened to Cowan I have no idea.’
Matthew’s stopover in Newcastle was more rushed than in Edinburgh, but the detective sergeant who had dealt with Cowan’s case was happy to meet him in a cafe on the station concourse. Matthew again received a slim file of papers, which the DS seemed reluctant to part with, placing it on the table between them but keeping a hand on it.
‘She was in hospital for a couple of days,’ the large rather dour looking man said, his local accent was very marked and Merry had to concentrate to make certain he followed what was said, particularly over the noisy chatter in the cafe, ‘if she’d not used the hammer he would have gone down for ABH. However, the truth got blurred.’ The DS petered off, realising he was repeating himself and Merry checked his watch thinking he needed to start for his train.
‘Given the bad shape she was in no one really doubted her side of events, but it was proving it that was the problem,’ the sergeant continued, paused again and then finally started to say what had been troubling him from the start. ‘Thing was she’d bought the hammer a couple of days beforehand. She denied it, of course, said she’d never seen it before and it must have been his, but we found the receipt in her handbag.’ The DS finally lifted his hand off the file allowing Merry to take it. ‘Don’t read too much into that,’ he warned as Merry got up mumbling his thanks, ‘it weren’t the first time he’d done her over, so we all thought he had it coming and she was never charged don’t forget.’ Merry was going out the door, but waved to show he’d heard.
Merry’s phone had cut out once already as the train sped towards London, the signal strength fluctuated from mediocre to poor, but he finally got through to Proctor in Mallaig, using the number Allaway had given him.
‘I’ve nothing to add,’ Proctor told him sounding annoyed, not appreciating how much of their conversation Merry had missed. ‘The chief inspector they sent up from Glasgow was a shite investigator and turned up nothing of worth. I had a theory of my own but the man I had in mind died so nothing was proven and it’d be no use raking up the past, of no help to anyone.’
‘I understand, ‘Merry said, speaking loudly to compensate for the poor reception, which did nothing to endear him to his fellow passengers, ‘but if you can give me a broad outline of what you found, who you looked at it might be of help. Allaway said you had done a lot more digging than the original investigation.’
‘That’s true enough, not that it took much effort to do more…’ then the line cut out again and Proctor, no doubt annoyed by the further waste of his time by another incompetent inspector didn’t answer when Merry tried again. The unsuccessful phone call did not improve Merry’s mood as he transferred to the overcrowded tube in the middle of rush hour, it was an incomplete question that was failing to form within his mind that was nagging at him, like a word he thought he should know but could not remember.
Julie was having a mixed day, she had not been able to continue questioning Jenny Cowan as her solicitor had raised issues about her client’s mental state and ability to answer questions while recovering in a psychiatric ward. Rather than argue the point Swift had recommended waiting until the patient was released before formally arresting and detaining her. He was in no doubt of Cowan’s guilt but their suspect wasn’t going anywhere and it would give the team more time to collect evidence. Having done some paperwork, Lukula had a late lunch with Alima and the doctor had pointed out how stressed Julie was looking, suggesting they spend the rest of the day at a spa.
Julie was not the sort to shirk her duties but she had racked up some long days and in practice felt there was little she could do until Merry returned, so was easily persuaded. At the all female spa, Julie was pleased at the number of compliments she received from staff about her well toned, lithe body. Though was increasingly jealous as Alima flirted with the young attendants, she wasn’t used to feeling so needy of an exclusive relationship and was surprised at the depth and strength of feelings she had for Alima after such a short time. Although the good doctor made it up to Julie, relaxing her beyond measure and reducing her to a tingling jelly-like state when they were alone in the showers. Alima’s enjoyment of the situation was gilded by the knowledge that it was in the spa that she had first met Chief Superintendent Jackson.
They had stopped on the way back to Alima’s apartment at Julie’s flatlet so she could get fresh clothes, Alima noticeably not making any comment on Lukula’s untidy rooms. Back at the doctor’s much more spacious apartment in Canter Way, Julie was happy to leave the cooking to Alima. However, Julie soon grew bored and decided to check her emails on her phone, only to discover the battery had died. It was as she looked for a charger in Alima’s modern, functional desk that she came across a sheaf of printed papers, notes about the case and Jenny Cowan.
15
The desk was in a home office space within the luxury apartment, around a corner and out of sight of the open plan kitchen, with the dining and living space in between. However, as if sensing something was wrong in the quiet that had descended on the apartment, Alima put down her cooking utensils and crossed to the cubby hole she called her office.
‘What are you doing?’ the doctor demanded, turning the corner and seeing Julie intently reading her notes. ‘Those are private.’
‘Jenny Cowan confessed to you?’ It was more statement than question and if Alima sounded outraged at the invasion of her privacy Lukula’s tone was strident and accusatory, ‘You told us Jenny Cowan never presented herself to you, not in the original research study nor since. Yet you say it was her who attempted suicide and she confessed to the killings.’
‘Please, Julie, it isn’t how it sounds,’ Alima struggled to remain calm, inwardly panicking and realising how things would look to the sergeant, she needed to explain so as to keep Julie on her side. ‘I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you and Matthew everything,’ then seeing Julie’s face grow hard and disbelieving. ‘Please, my darling, just let me explain.’
Julie was thrown by Alima calling her ‘my darling’ – it reminded her of how close they had become and she hesitated long enough for Alima to pour them both wine and sit down in the living area. It also gave Alima time to think and decide on an approach she thought Julie would accept.
‘You are right, I should have told you and I’m sorry I didn’t,’ Alima began, looking unhappy and contrite. ‘When I went to Leanne’s flat and found her bleeding out, I realised that Jenny was the most likely personality to have attempted suicide. It was a guess based on her medical history, as a young teenager she had self-harmed and her years of remaining hidden also suggested a very disturbed and hunted personality. As I bandaged her arm I realised it wasn’t Leanne nor any of the others I knew, so I risked calling her Jenny. It was an educated guess but she responded, she was almost passing out and I was concerned another personality was emerging, but it was Jenny that said “I’ve done it now, I’ve killed four of me”.’
‘Just that? Those exact words?’ Julie was now more puzzled than angry.
‘Yes, then a very frightened Meg emerged and I focused on keeping her alive until the ambulance arrived,’ Alima explained, her head hanging in shame for what she had done. ‘When we spoke at the hospital and I was told of your suspicions I decided I could help the investigation more by not saying anything about it.’
‘How?’ Lukula was thunderstruck at the idea.
‘It wasn’t conclusive and I knew given Jenny’s mental state how difficult it would be to establish her involvement. Afterwards I even spoke with your chief superintendent, who is a friend of sorts, and explained how I could help and in return I would use my experiences to write another book.’
‘You told her what Jenny had said?’ Julie could hardly believe this.
‘No, only that I know the patient well enough to help discover exactly what she knows. Look, I’ve told you that I thought Matthew was partly right about what John told us at the hospital. To me it suggests Jenny has resurfaced and her memories and thoughts are bleeding into his dreams. As you know, I’ve already said that I believe Jenny could commit a murder on impulse but to kill three girls in succession is more than impulse. I have a theory as to how to bring Jenny out into the open and have her tell us what she has done and why, what is driving her to kill. However, it won’t be easy,’ Alima tried to keep a balance between pleading for understanding and being apologetic for what she had done.
‘Surely you can appreciate how quickly things could become confused if the interviews are not handled correctly,’ Alima persisted. ‘Just think how things would have turned out if you had simply sprung this on Leanne or one of the others, it would have been utter confusion.’ Alima knew she had won the point as Julie finally nodded in agreement, her frown of annoyance turning to one of exasperation as the doctor’s words sunk home. ‘Once we can interview her in a consistent way, taking our time and managing the situation to bring out and maintain Jenny’s presence, then I am sure I can get her to give a meaningful confession. To give you more than just vague words or second-hand dreams.’
Lukula had to admit interviewing Jenny Cowan wasn’t easy and, the more she reasoned it, the more she began to realise that Jenny’s confession was far from being that. Alima had hardly lied, just not given her complete opinion of the facts. She looked at the crestfallen and unhappy Alima and it pulled at her heartstrings, she didn’t want to hurt her new found love, ‘You said something about a book?’
‘Yes, I want to writ
e this all up, use a real case to show how psychology can help the police in their interrogation techniques when dealing with the mentally ill,’ Alima couldn’t help sounding enthusiastic, seeing Julie teetering in her favour. ‘I know I may sound like a bit of a commercial whore, no better than a journalist hunting for a story to sell. However, I really need another book deal and I promise that you, Matthew and the others will all be shown as the great police officers you all are.’
‘You should have told us, though I have to admit we would have jumped in feet first had we known,’ Julie conceded. ‘Police size sevens,’ she waggled her bare feet, pulling a wry smile of conciliation.
‘I should have trusted you, I’m sorry,’ Alima slid across to kiss Julie. ‘I should be punished, I know.’
‘Good thing I have my handcuffs with me,’ Julie smiled, responding to the kiss in kind.
At the morning briefing the following day Lukula had a glow and shine about her that caught everyone’s, except Merry’s, eye. To the inspector everything was a uniform and indistinguishable grey, a murky picture puzzle in his mind he could not complete for lack of all the pieces. Had he slept it might have come to him on waking but he had tossed and turned, partly from the guilt that pricked him from having slept with Dianne Allaway, partly from recognising how little time he had spent with his family recently and, partly because he could not define what it was he believed was missing from the case. How could he start to look for something if he didn’t have any idea what that thing was? It was the need to achieve a greater clarity of the whole picture and identify the missing pieces that made him insist they should investigate further before considering their next steps with Jenny Cowan.