by A J Waines
I pressed the pillow to my mouth in disbelief.
‘I thought the false memories would trigger a desire to help. I thought it would make them come forward, but it didn’t work. Instead, they turned the guilt on themselves and…you know the outcome…’
His voice was hoarse now.
‘I knew inflicting the false memories was cruel, but I never dreamt it would lead where it did. I just wanted them to feel overwhelming compassion and respond by presenting themselves as donors. But it didn’t have that effect. That was so incredibly short-sighted of me. I didn’t want them to die – I only wanted them to come forward…’
Leo was the killer!
I felt my faith in him curl up inside me and shrink to a crisp. ‘Leo – how could you do such a thing?’ I whispered.
A yawning chasm opened up between us, pushing us away from each other. I was on one side and he was on the other. Divided by far more than life and death.
‘I wanted you to hear it from me,’ his voice went on.
‘I arranged unnecessary “check-ups” for those four patients after the normal treatment for their injuries. Then I went to work implanting the false images. You were right about that novel – the one you tracked down. My God – you are clever! I borrowed scenes where innocent victims were trapped and panicking, but I added one important element: the oppressive guilt – memories where each of them ignored innocent people crying out...’
I slapped my hands over my ears, appalled, locked in my own bewilderment. Leo was right here, speaking to me in the room while inside I was silently screaming at him. He said he hadn’t meant for the patients to die – hadn’t meant for it to go as far as causing their suicides. But was that a lie, as well?
‘It only took around forty minutes, involving electric shocks and bright lights activated at intervals as I read out passages from the book. None of them had any idea what had happened once they came round.
‘I was useless in the face of my wife’s illness. I felt guilty that it was her, not me, who was dying. Helena didn’t deserve it. I was so desperate. Can you understand that? I was powerless to do anything about it. I’m a surgeon for Christ’s sake. I’m used to making everything better.’
And playing God..!
I didn’t know whether to yell or burst into tears. I sank to the bed and hammered my fists into the mattress. More than anything I was bitterly disappointed that this man I admired had so much had sunk so low.
Why had he gone to all this trouble to tell me this?
‘It’s only a matter of time before you work everything out. You knew the patients weren’t genuine survivors of the Liverpool Street fire. You’re a smart woman – the novel, the fake signature in Terry’s records. You were piecing it all together.’
There was a hiatus and I wondered if the recording had finished. Then his voice, barely there, resumed. ‘I was the one who left the lead in the bookcase in your office. I was taping your sessions to see how the patients were responding.’
I shook my head.
‘There were only ever four of them and you’re not affected, by the way. Any nightmares you’re still having are purely down to stress. I know I should be punished, but there’s not much time left for that. Is death punishment enough? I wish things had been different. I think you know what I mean…’
There was a click, followed by a prolonged hiss.
I couldn’t move. Nothing was solid any more. Then came an overwhelming surge of despair; an acute sense of loneliness and I sat up.
Everything looked the same; the fluffy bunny on the laundry basket Con had won at a funfair, the coat hanger sticking out from behind the chest of drawers. The half-drunk mug of cold coffee on the carpet waiting to be kicked over. It was as if everything in the flat was mocking me, every item was staring at me with its barefaced normality.
But everything had changed.
Leo had betrayed me.
My thoughts were charging around too fast. I had to tell the police. Didn’t I? If I didn’t explain what I knew, wasn’t I some kind of accessory to the deaths of my patients? Could I be charged for failing to report a crime? Then again, had any crime actually been committed?
I stood and screamed at the audio file on my laptop; a thin white bar across the screen, like a flat line on an ICU monitor.
‘Tell me you weren’t in your right mind, Leo! Tell me it wasn’t you who did this terrible thing!’
Why wasn’t he here, standing in front of me, so he could explain everything? The audio file was defiantly silent.
I wanted to despise him, but all I could feel was a devastating sadness. I finished the last dregs of the brandy, crawled into bed and closed my eyes. But my mind was still alert. I went over and over the facts, trying to work out what I should do next. There had been three suicides, but had there been a crime? Death by proxy? Would that stand up in court? Con wasn’t a credible witness – he couldn’t remember a thing.
I thought of Leo, angry and hurt. He’d taken secret tissue samples and run tests and found that those four individuals were potential donors. When they’d refused to help, he’d implanted false memories in their minds to make them come forward. This decent man had seriously lost his moral bearings under the weight of his grief. But, he’d tried to redeem himself, eager to reverse what he’d done to Con. He’d died trying to save him. That had to stand for something. Didn’t it?
I stayed up most of the night, playing the recording again and again. I wished I’d known he’d briefly come out of his coma. How long had he been conscious? Long enough for this and, now I thought about it, long enough to take steps to make sure I was reinstated from my suspension too.
I wished someone had let me know. I could have seen him. I had so many questions stored up inside, but perhaps that’s what he couldn’t face.
By the time dawn was oozing through the cracks in my curtains, I was convinced. Leo had certainly committed a grave sin – he had tampered with people’s free will, but he hadn’t known his methods would have had such dire consequences.
That part hadn’t been deliberate, I felt sure of it – or maybe that was just what I wanted to believe.
I made up my mind. I’d wouldn’t go to the police. There was no need to ruin Leo’s name or drag his daughters through an ignominious scandal – they’d suffered enough. It was over – Leo said there were no more than four victims. He was dead. Surely, he’d paid his price.
As for Leo’s USB stick, I wanted to keep it, for the time being at least. Even though the content was hard to hear, I couldn’t part with his voice just yet.
I propped the photograph of Kim on the mantelpiece and dragged myself to the kitchen to make a strong coffee.
Chapter 42
25 September
The car jerks to a halt. My hands make ten-to-two on the steering wheel, but I have no idea what the time is.
I switch off the engine. Tiny spots of rain spatter the windscreen gradually coating it with liquid fog and I marvel at the way each drop looks like it is heading straight for me and then is caught, just before it reaches my face, by the intervening glass.
I get out and begin the ascent, following the narrow winding path, but it’s not steep like the first time. The rain spits, pricking my cheeks; the wind is fierce, pressing my trousers against my legs as if I’m under water. Just like before. Only now it’s no struggle.
I have all the time in the world.
The air is crystal clear with a mossy undertone and there is a vague aroma of freshly caught fish. With every breath I feel renewed, emancipated, expansive.
Being back here in Stockholm where my life began, is like completing a perfect circle.
I cast my mind back to St Luke’s. When those four patients turned their backs, I had to do something. It was devious and against all my better judgement, but I never wanted them to die – Sam must know that, surely – it wasn’t meant to go that far.
Some might say staging my own death was a cop-out, but I’d got myself into a tight
corner in the end. I couldn’t risk carrying out the reversal on Con and then turning round to find my wrists in handcuffs. Sam was smart – she would have worked it out sooner or later, but I wouldn’t have left unless I’d known one thing for sure. That everything had been set up so she could carry on without me. She didn’t need me any more. And I was forced to run – I had no choice. I could never have been sure that Sam would understand.
I head towards the rocky outcrop, soaking up the view across the lake – it’s breath-taking. Islands are dotted here and there on the horizon, like broken chunks of tarmac, stretching north-west towards Norway, towards other worlds.
The fall from the roof came at the right time. It looked worse than it was; I had a broken rib and internal bruising, that’s all. I turned it to my advantage – into my escape route.
I understand how hospitals work and Lian helped everything along even though she knew I wasn’t taking her with me. I made it clear my feelings weren’t the same. How could they be? Helena is still the blood running through my veins.
Leaving Felicity and Kim was the hardest thing about my entire plan – and so soon after their mother’s death. After I was seen at A&E, Lian made sure I had a private room and that my daughters were my only visitors. She made sure they arrived at the right time and applied clever make-up to make me look like I was at death’s door. Having to lie there, frozen and mute, while they leant over me, weeping, nearly destroyed me.
Then it was a matter of Lian finding a corpse of similar age and build, and swapping toe tags at the right time. An admin ‘mix up’ we engineered meant I was sent for cremation, before the coroner got to hear about the death and by then I was reduced to dust.
I stare out over the sheen of untroubled water. The sun will set here in a couple of hours.
In the long run, my demise will be better for everyone. Felicity and Kim always thought I was a useless father. They’ll get the money from both properties and can do what they want with their lives. Best for them to start again with a clean slate; there is too much ground to make up.
Then there’s Sam. She intrigues me in so many ways; calm on the surface, but complex and troubled underneath. We are both made the same. If things had been different, who knows what might have happened between us.
I come across a pool and pick up a smooth stone. I skim it across the water and it kisses the surface six times before taking a final dive into the depths.
Sam has probably told everyone about my misdemeanours by now – only ‘Dr Leo Hansson’ is dead and the story is over. Such a shame she is too morally squeaky-clean to be let into this final secret. Maybe she could have been part of it, but we are all making sacrifices.
The outcome is I live and breathe. Not as before, but with a new name, Anders Olsson. I’ve still got the off-shore account and I’m free to take my place in the world again, only here, no one knows who I am. My forged papers mean I’m no longer a plastic surgeon. Or a closet psychologist. I can leave all that behind me and start something new. I’ve no idea what that will be, but I will do my utmost to make a difference.
I wait until the minute hand on my watch reaches 4.30pm precisely before turning back. I’ll return to my apartment via the indoor market at Östermalms Saluhall. Stop for a coffee at that cinnamon bakery Helena loved when we came here, years ago.
I get into the car, lay my jacket carefully on the back seat and wait a minute before starting the engine. My mind rewinds to the day I climbed the cliffs in Dover. My other life. I was in shreds then, trying to find a way out. Now, I don’t need gravity to claim me. I am a new man. With a new beginning.
I adjust the gold cufflinks in my crisp shirtsleeves and flip the key in the ignition.
~
About the Author
AJ Waines is the number one bestselling author of Girl on a Train, which topped the UK and Australian Kindle Charts in 2015. She was a psychotherapist for fifteen years, during which time she worked with ex-offenders from high-security institutions, gaining a rare insight into abnormal psychology. She is now a full-time novelist with publishing deals in France, Germany (Penguin Random House) and USA (audiobook).
Her fourth novel, No Longer Safe sold over 30,000 copies in the first month, in twelve countries worldwide. In 2016, the author was ranked in the Top 10 UK Authors on Amazon KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing).
As Alison Waines, the author has also written two self-help books: The Self-Esteem Journal and Making Relationships Work (Sheldon Press). She lives in Hampshire, UK, with her husband.
Find out more at AJ’s Website or follow her Blog. She’s also on Twitter (@AJWaines), Facebook and you can sign up for her Newsletter.
Want to hear more from Sam Willerby?
Coming soon from AJ Waines:
LOST IN THE LAKE
(Dr Samantha Willerby Series - Book 2)
Amateur viola player Rosie Chandler is the sole survivor of a crash which sends an entire string quartet plunging into a lake. Convinced the ‘accident’ was deliberate but unable to recall what happened, she is determined to recover her lost memories and seeks out psychologist, Dr Samantha Willerby.
Sam is immediately drawn to the tragic Rosie and as she helps her piece the fragments together, the police find disturbing new evidence which raises further questions. Why is Rosie so desperate to recover her worthless viola? And what happened to the violin lost in the crash, worth over £2m?
When Rosie insists they return to the lake to relive the fatal incident, the truth finally creeps up on Sam – but by now, she’s seriously out of her depth…
The second book in the Dr Samantha Willerby series, LOST IN THE LAKE is a nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat Psychological Thriller that will leave you glancing over your shoulder.
Also by AJ Waines
THE EVIL BENEATH
There’s a body in the water - and she’s wearing your clothes…
Impulsive and intrepid psychotherapist, Juliet Grey, can’t resist responding to an anonymous text message telling her to go to Hammersmith Bridge at dawn. But it isn’t simply the dead body in the water that disturbs her, it’s the way something uniquely personal to Juliet has been left on the corpse.
Another obscure message - another London bridge - and Juliet finds herself caught up with a serial killer, who leaves personal mementos instead of collecting trophies. Teaming up with local detective, DCI Brad Madison, Juliet strives to find out why she has been targeted and how it’s connected to the accident that killed her brother, nineteen years ago.
Can Juliet use her knowledge of the human psyche to get inside the mind of the killer, before another body is found under a bridge? And how long before Juliet herself becomes the next target?
GIRL ON A TRAIN
By AJ Waines
Everything points to suicide - but I saw her face…
Headstrong Journalist, Anna Rothman knows what suicide looks like - her own husband killed himself five years earlier. When Elly Swift, an agitated passenger beside her on a train, leaves a locket in Anna’s bag before jumping onto the tracks, Anna starts asking awkward questions. But everything points to suicide and the police close the case.
Anna, however, believes Elly’s fears for Toby, her young nephew, missing since being snatched from St Stephen’s church six months ago, fail to explain the true reason behind Elly’s distress. Through a series of hidden messages Elly left behind, Anna embarks on a dangerous crusade to track down Toby and find Elly’s killer.
But nothing is as it seems and Anna opens a can of worms that throws into question even her own husband’s suicide - before the threads of the mystery converge in an astonishing conclusion.
DARK PLACE TO HIDE
By AJ Waines
She’s trying to tell you – if only you’d listen…
About to break the news to his wife, Diane, that he’s infertile, criminology expert, Harper Penn, gets a call to say she’s been rushed to hospital with a miscarriage. Five days later, when Diane fails to return from the village shop,
police think she must have taken off with a secret lover, but Harper is convinced the online messages are not from her.
In the same Hampshire village, plucky seven-year-old Clara has retreated into a make-believe world after an accident. Then she, too, goes missing.
As Harper sets out on a desperate quest to find them both, he has no idea what he’s up against. Could the threat be closer than he thinks? And is there a hidden message in Clara’s fairy tales?
DARK PLACE TO HIDE is a chilling psychological mystery with a cold-blooded deviant lurking at the core.
NO LONGER SAFE
By AJ Waines
She was your best friend. Now she’s your deadliest enemy – and there’s nowhere to run…
When Alice receives an invitation from Karen, her charismatic University friend, to stay in a remote cottage in Scotland, she can’t wait to rekindle their lost friendship. But two more former students arrive – never friends of Alice’s – and as the atmosphere chills, Karen isn’t the warm-hearted soulmate Alice remembers. Barely is the reunion underway before someone is dead and the fragile gathering is pushed to breaking point.
As the snow cuts them off from civilisation and accusations fly, Alice finds herself a pawn, sinking deeper into a deadly game she can’t escape.
NO LONGER SAFE is a chilling Psychological Thriller that delivers a delicious sting in the tail.