Evil Games (11 page)

‘Got any suspicions, boss?’ Stacey asked.

She certainly did, but she wasn’t going to share them yet.

Kim looked to Bryant.

‘Come on, partner. We’re clearing up.’

TWENTY

Alex hit the refresh button on each of the online news outlets she’d put into her favourites. What she should have been doing right now was meeting Ruth and collecting the data that was vital to her experiment; but the stupid bitch had got herself caught within forty-eight hours.

Alex had known that the incompetent police would eventually stumble over Ruth as a suspect, but she’d miscalculated. Either a police officer with a smattering of intelligence had landed the case or Ruth had left her name and address at the crime scene with a sign saying, ‘It was me’.

What she had expected was a few days, time enough to extract the information she required. Jesus, had she needed to draw the imbecile a picture? She’d been given the motivation, method and opportunity in the visualisation. Alex had hoped that Ruth’s one contribution to the process would have been a modicum of self-preservation.

Alex hit refresh again. No change. She turned her attention to her usual morning checks. She signed into Facebook and typed in the name, ‘Sarah Lewis’. Twenty minutes later, after logging in and out of every social networking site on her list, she sighed. Sarah was still in virtual hiding, but no matter.

Having Sarah back in the cross hairs made Alex’s life complete. Oh, to have seen the reaction on her face would have been priceless. She wondered if the poky little cottage in the middle of Hicksville was on the market yet. She clicked into Rightmove.com and added it to her favourites. It wouldn’t be long.

She thanked God for this age of electronic access that prevented total anonymity. People could always be found, if one knew where to look. Dark corners didn’t exist in cyberspace.

The doorbell sounded, prompting Alex to check her watch. She’d booked no other patients. Ruth would have been her only appointment of the day.

She opened the door to a male and female standing before her. The male smiled. Alex didn’t smile back. Damn it, this was exactly what she’d hoped to avoid.

‘Doctor Thorne, my name is DS Bryant and this is DI Stone. May we come in?’

Alex’s hand tightened on the doorknob as she checked his identification card. She looked from one to the other. ‘What’s this about?’

‘We won’t take much of your time. We’d just like a word about one of your patients.’

‘Of course, come this way.’

Alex led them into her consultation room. Once inside, she appraised them both quickly. The male she guessed to be mid- to late-forties, who clearly liked to keep fit but was fighting the inevitable paunch of middle age. His chestnut hair was greying at the temples but the haircut was efficient and professional. His face was open and friendly.

The woman’s expression was moody and dark. Her hair was a short shock, the colour just this side of black. It was the eyes that almost took Alex’s breath away. A dark intensity brooded within the unsmiling face and tight demeanour. From a distance it was only just possible to see the separation between the irises and the pupils.

She forced herself to look away and focus on the male whose body language was like an open book.

‘So, Detective Bryant, how can I help you?’

‘We believe that Ruth Willis is one of your patients?’

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.