Twisted

by Lynda La Plante

  Reid felt very positive, even though he knew suggesting Lena Fulford was sectioned put himself in a position where he had to confront DCI Jackson and update him on the new developments. The major problem was having no physical incriminating evidence against Lena; his whole case against her was, at the present time, entirely based on the ramblings of a journal that was written by God knows who.

  ‘I am upset with Miss Jordan’s misdiagnosis of Mrs Fulford, and yet as much as it grates me, I may need her assistance as she is on very familiar terms with Lena,’ Cornwall conceded. ‘The fact is, I cannot – in fact nobody can – force her to undergo hypnotherapy. Miss Jordan may be able to persuade her to do so, but the reality is, Lena has to want it, and I think truthfully, she might find it an incredible relief.’

  First thing the following morning Reid, with only a few hours’ sleep, went to see Jackson in his office. He was nervous, and having the bullish man glaring and swearing at him did not help, but eventually, when warned more murders could occur, the DCI sat up and listened. Jackson was an experienced officer and knew he was in a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ position, and if he failed to let Reid arrest and section Lena Fulford he would have a lot of explaining to do.

  With Jackson’s approval, Reid could obtain the warrants to arrest Lena Fulford on suspicion of murder and search her house. He took with him DS Lane, DC Burrows, a team of SOCOs, and a forensic botanist to assist in the search for any poisonous mushrooms. He had also asked Marjory Jordan to be present. At first she was furious and refused to play any part in the arrest or help Cornwall, but after Reid explained Cornwall’s diagnosis at length, she realized that Lena’s alter three made her a very dangerous woman. Miss Jordan knew her future credibility and integrity as a psychologist was in jeopardy, and it was best she agreed to persuade Lena to have the hypnotherapy treatment.

  Reid had suggested that he and he alone appear at the house first, while the others waited for him to give the go-ahead. He did not want to scare Lena, but to make it as easy for her as possible, without causing undue stress. Lena looked dishevelled when she opened the door wearing a fur-lined raincoat. She smiled and said she was pleased to see him, but it was not convenient as she was just leaving for a prearranged appointment at an antiques fair in Sandown. He showed her the search warrant, keeping his expression relaxed but pointing out that she had no option but to permit him entry and allow the search to take place.

  Her head jerked from side to side, and her eyes widened. ‘You will have to come back another time,’ she said sharply.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Fulford, but that will not be acceptable.’

  He could feel the tension in her as she made to step back in an attempt to shut the door, but he was prepared and had his foot wedged inside.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Her voice was strained, as she tried again to shut the door; this time he used his arm to put pressure on it to widen the gap.

  ‘Mrs Fulford, please don’t make this more difficult. Just move away from the door.’

  She seemed to jump back and the door swung open. Immediately he reached for his hand-held radio, calling for everyone to come through the gates, and asking that Miss Jordan make herself visible fast.

  It was over very quickly, even though it didn’t feel like it. Lena swore and cursed Reid when told she was being arrested on suspicion of the murder of her husband and Harry Dunn, but on seeing Marjory Jordan she turned her anger towards the therapist. Miss Jordan was impressive, staying calm and very reassuring. Slowly Lena backed up against a wall, asking over and over why she was there as she did not have an appointment.

  Unbeknown to Lena, Barbara Burrows packed her a medium-size bag with clothing, nightwear, washbag and makeup, that was to be taken direct to the secure psychiatric unit she would later be escorted to. Marjory Jordan and two officers led Lena out to the waiting police car where a uniform officer had, as was standard procedure, wanted to handcuff her, but Reid told him that it was not appropriate in Mrs Fulford’s case as it might upset her further. Her mood change was astonishing – she was smiling as they put her into the back of the car with Marjory sitting next to her. Lena didn’t even glance out of the window, but sat explaining how well her new line of stuffed toys was doing.

  ‘Have I forgotten we had an appointment, are we going to your house?’

  ‘I have someone who wants to talk to you, Lena; he’s going to help you, but first we have to go to the police station,’ Marjory told her. ‘You’ve been there before – you remember when you first went to report Amy missing. Remember how nice Detective Reid was? Well, he wants to help you again, so think of it as if we are going to his house.’

  Lena never asked what ‘help’ she meant, she never said another word as they continued the drive to Richmond. She leant further back in the seat, her hands folded over her soft leather clutch bag, patting it with the flat of her hand. Marjory noticed that unlike her usually perfectly manicure the red varnish was chipped and her nails looked dirty.

  Arriving at the police station, everything went like clockwork as Reid had briefed the custody sergeant beforehand. Cornwall was waiting at the secure mental unit in Surrey, and so had arranged for a colleague to have Lena sectioned under the Mental Health Act at the station. They were back in the car and on their way to Surrey within twenty minutes; during the time at the station Lena was perfectly tranquil and never said a word, other than to give her name and address. Reid worried that it was the calm before the storm.

  Marjory kept hold of Lena’s hand as they walked up the path and into the secure unit, which was very clean and modern, with single bedrooms and a number of therapy treatment rooms. She seemed like a frightened child looking around, perplexed and unsure why she was there. Miss Jordan reassured her they were at a lovely new guesthouse and while they were there she could have a good rest, but Lena backed away nervously as Professor Cornwall approached with a smile.

  ‘Mrs Fulford, I am Professor Elliot Cornwall. I have heard a lot about you, and I am delighted to meet you.’

  Lena faltered, taking deep breaths, her hands till clutching her bag. His voice was soft and gentle as he took her through to the interview room, which was decorated in a serene and inviting manner with comfortable armchairs, a sofa and coffee table. Cornwall patted the seat beside him.

  ‘Come and sit down, Mrs Fulford, I think we can have a really pleasant conversation.’

  Miss Jordan looked on as Lena went obediently to sit beside him, and he lifted his eyes towards Miss Jordan to indicate for her to leave the room. As she closed the door behind her she could see Lena was starting to cry. Miss Jordan knew there was a hidden camera in the room that recorded everything and hurried to find the adjoining room to watch the treatment on a monitor.

  At the antiques fair in Sandown, Agnes was growing anxious that she was waiting in the wrong café, which was basically a stall set up for the event. She made some enquiries and went to check a second restaurant used for the races but it was closed. Returning to the first stall, she rang Lena’s house, but there was no reply, so she called her business line, which went straight to answer phone. Presuming that Lena must be on her way, Agnes ordered a second cup of coffee. After another half hour, and still with no sign of Lena, she called the house again. This time the phone was answered and when she asked to speak to Mrs Fulford she was informed that she was not available. She asked rather curtly who she was speaking to, and was concerned to be told that it was DI Reid.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice. This is Agnes Moors, Detective. I was expecting Mrs Fulford; we had arranged to have coffee together, but she hasn’t shown up and I wondered if everything was all right.’

  Reid was taken aback to hear about the arrangement, especially as he obviously knew about Agnes leaking private photographs in her unauthorised press interview. He repeated that Mrs Fulford was not available, even as he privately suspected that Lena’s intention behind the meeting was to at some point administer a lethal dose o
f mushroom poison, and if he was correct, Miss Moors had had a very lucky escape. He asked if her daughter was well, which surprised Agnes, but she said Natalie was very well.

  Eager as he was to end the call, Reid made sure to tell Agnes that she, and her daughter, still needed to be vigilant about the contents of their fridges, freezers, and also any liquids in opened bottles. Agnes asked why now liquids and what was happening with the investigation. With Lena arrested he felt more relaxed about Agnes’s safety and explained that this was something they should have mentioned in the first instance, but had forgotten to do so.

  ‘I will pass on your message to Mrs Fulford,’ he said and ended the call.

  The reason Reid was so sure of Lena’s intentions was because the forensic botanist had discovered, in the shrubbery by the garden wall, a fresh crop of poisonous mushrooms. The area was cordoned off for the botanist to examine and take samples, but clearly visible were patches of stems, indicating that the mushroom heads had been recently removed.

  The interior of the house was in disarray; dirty dishes and cutlery were stacked in the sink, along with burnt pans and discarded half-cooked meals. Empty wine bottles and dirty glasses were left in the downstairs rooms. A fire had been lit in one room, the grate piled high with burnt newspapers and the ashes spilling out onto the polished wood floor and fireside rug. It appeared that Lena had moved from one room to another downstairs; blankets and pillows were abandoned on sofas beside trays of biscuits and dirty coffee cups. The bedrooms were in the same condition; the master suite had clothes heaped across the floor; dirty bath towels, some soaking wet, were left in every bathroom, and only Amy’s bedroom remained in immaculate condition. Lena’s office was a mass of documents scattered over the floor and tumbling out of the wastebasket, while rotting food was left on her desk. Laundry baskets were stacked with dirty clothes and bed linen, some with bloodstains, and it seemed that the cleanliness of the entire massive house had been neglected.

  A discovery in the cellar proved to be very relevant. In a small wooden crate, resting in blotting paper and wrapped in wet tissues, were more poisonous mushrooms. Close by on a small table was a granite mortar and pestle, which contained the remnants of crushed mushrooms. Aware of the danger of inhaling deadly spores in a confined space, the forensic botanist immediately had the area cordoned off and insisted no one was to go in without full protective clothing and mask.

  Reid was in his office back at Richmond when Jackson stormed in, looking flustered.

  ‘What’s been happening? You should have called me, kept me updated.’

  ‘Well I have been rather busy, sir, what with the arrest of Lena Fulford and the discovery of poisonous mushrooms growing in her garden and the cellar of her house.’

  Jackson exhaled noisily. ‘The original search of the house when her daughter went missing was a total cockup. So missing the mushrooms is down to you, not me.’

  ‘At the time, sir, I was investigating Amy as a missing person – poisoning people was not in the equation and even the sniffer dogs were looking for a possible body, not mushrooms.’

  ‘Did she kill her daughter?’ Jackson growled.

  The question threw Reid and he took a moment to think about it. ‘I don’t know, but considering this latest outcome I have even stronger doubts that Marcus Fulford murdered his daughter, or even sexually abused her.’

  ‘What about the fucking incriminating evidence against him? The maroon sweater, the watch, how long before she was declared missing – he could have killed her and in retrospect so could her psychotic mother. They could even have done it together and disposed of her body between them.’

  Reid hated the way the bullish man’s voice grated on his nerves. He did not truthfully believe that Lena would have killed her daughter, but he had to take on board what Jackson was implying and consider her aggressive alter might be responsible.

  ‘I think, sir, we need to wait for Professor Cornwall to talk with Lena Fulford. She’s at the secure unit and he is talking with her now, and will hopefully soon start the hypnotherapy sessions. Rest assured, sir, I will keep you updated.’

  ‘Fucking brilliant, we wait for this trick cyclist to “TALK” to a woman we believe – correction, you and Cornwall believe – wrote that bloody journal. If she is suspected of murdering three people she should be interviewed at the police station and fucking charged with murder, then let a jury decide whether she is guilty or not. I suggest when Cornwall’s finished farting about you bring her back here for questioning, or I will go and get her from the nuthouse myself.’

  ‘I still think we would be wise to wait to hear from Professor Cornwall,’ Reid persisted.

  ‘I am not waiting – do you realize if this ever got leaked to the press it would create a media frenzy, far and above what we already had to deal with?’

  It was at this moment Reid’s desk phone rang, and he snatched it up, grateful for a reason to deflect Jackson’s anger.

  Professor Cornwall was on the line and Reid told him DCI Jackson was in his office and he’d put the call onto speaker.

  ‘I’ve had a long talk with Mrs Fulford and she’s currently resting in the therapy room, having taken a mild sedative,’ the professor began.

  Jackson leaned in towards the speakerphone. ‘What did she say? Did she kill her daughter and—?’

  ‘I haven’t got anywhere near that far yet, DCI Jackson. I can however tell you that she understood that she may be suffering from something more than a bipolar illness, and she has agreed to undergo the hypnotherapy treatment.’

  Reid felt relieved. ‘Thank you, Professor, that is very positive news.’

  ‘When will you start and how long will it take?’ an impatient Jackson asked.

  ‘When I feel she is ready,’ Cornwall replied smoothly, ‘and it will certainly take more than one session to uncover all of her multiple personalities. I will firstly have to attempt to take her back to the beginning of her childhood trauma and this alone will be a very highly charged and emotional session. Everything will be recorded onto a DVD and you are both welcome to watch the procedure via the large monitor in the next room.’

  Jackson sucked in his breath and shook his head. ‘Very well, Professor Cornwall, as long as your methods get results. What sort of time frame are we looking at? I want her back in police custody to interview and charge her.’

  Cornwall sighed with disdain. ‘As I just said, it’s impossible to say how many treatments Mrs Fulford will require at this stage. I will let you know when I think she’s ready to be interviewed by police.’

  ‘This is a murder investigation and I make the decisions about her, not you, Professor Cornwall!’

  ‘Let me remind you, DCI Jackson, that Lena Fulford has been sectioned and detained under the Mental Health Act and I am her appointed psychiatrist.’

  ‘So fucking what!’ Jackson bellowed, leaving Reid disgusted at the way he spoke to Cornwall, who remained totally calm.

  ‘So that means I alone decide if and when she should be released to police custody for an interview. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a patient to attend to,’ he replied with an air of aloofness and ended the call.

  ‘Who the hell does that jumped-up little prick Cornwall think he is? This bloody shambles is a waste of taxpayers’ money and all your fault, Reid. Having that woman sectioned was a bad move – you should have just nicked her for murder then interviewed and charged her. The judge would have banged her up for life anyway and done us all a ruddy favour.’

  Jackson slammed the door hard as he left the room. Reid smiled to himself; he didn’t care what Jackson thought as he knew he’d done the right thing and Cornwall would decide when and if Lena was fit to be formally interviewed.

  In the tastefully furnished therapy room Lena was sitting flicking through a Vogue magazine. She smiled at Cornwall as he came back in, closing the magazine and placing it neatly in line with the others on the coffee table. She frowned, tapping the edges until she was satisfied it was p
erfectly straight. As she turned to him, he noticed she had the most extraordinary eyes, thick lashes, and her skin was flawless – she really was a very beautiful woman. He had not tricked her, or made any promises; he had been kindly and intuitive, as he had explained that he believed he could help her, and that he knew she needed to find peace.

  She said, ‘Thank you very much’, adding she was tired and closed her eyes, her hands holding onto her clutch bag, like a child with a comfort toy. When she was settled, her bag would be taken from her and the contents checked and kept in a locked cabinet. Cornwall decided it would be best to let her rest for the time being and showed her the room she would be staying in while at the ‘Guesthouse’, as Miss Jordan had put it. Lena was very appreciative and seemed to really like the room.

  Cornwall knew it was going to be a long and emotional journey if the outcome of the sessions was to be positive for both Lena and the police investigation. He firmly believed that what he was going to do could relieve her torment, and he was confident that under hypnotherapy her many alters would reveal themselves. His only fear was if the dominant alter, number three, did reveal itself, then he would be seen as an enemy and the alter might try and attack him. If that were to happen, there would be no knowing how much damage the alter could inflict on him, or for that matter on Lena Fulford herself. However, he would have two female staff watch in the monitor room, just to be on the safe side.

  Chapter 40

  Professor Cornwall’s nurses had been shocked by the amount of scars they had seen when Lena was taken to the showers. Her inner thighs were covered in the small marks of self-abuse made by the nail scissors, some of which were still raw and scabbed. Even so, she had remained calm and appreciative to everyone. Due to his prior commitments Professor Cornwall had only been available to begin the procedure that evening. Both DCI Jackson and DI Reid were present and had been waiting in the monitor room.