(2002) Deception aka Sanctum (17 page)

It’s now teatime and I’ve spent the best part of today up here hiding from the crossfire. Firstly there’s Trisha and all the nasty questions I’ve been avoiding: How did Susie look when I visited? What did she say? Is she well, not being mistreated, I hope? Does she have her own room? Is she having to empty her own slop bucket? How the hell am I supposed to know all this stuff? Trisha wants to know if she can come to visit Susie, but I said no, probably not. I’ve promised to ask Susie about her living conditions the next time I go, but I won’t. I’m not driving the forty minutes there and back with Trisha in the car and having her watch me being searched. Susie only gets four visits a month, anyway, and it may be wrong, but I want them for myself. Then Mum pipes up, standing up for me, telling Trisha to write to Susie if she wants to know these things, leave the boy alone, let my people go.

* * *

It takes eight hours to drive up to Cape Wrath from Glasgow. Susie could surely have changed her mind and thought of me, or at least of Margie, once during the eight-hour drive. They showed security film from a service station during the trial, and we all watched as Susie stopped to gas the car up and bought a family-size bag of wine gums and a can of Diet Coke. On the film she is laughing and chatting with the girl behind the counter, pointing back to the car because she didn’t know the number of the pump. As the prosecution said, not exactly the behavior of a woman beside herself with worry about Donna. I’d like to think she was buying the wine gums to bribe herself onward, like I was with the toffees, but I don’t think she minded going up there. I don’t think Susie’d go anywhere reluctantly. I wonder if she’d come and visit me in prison if the situations were reversed, and I can honestly say, I don’t think she would.

* * *

My chest has been hurting from all the smoking, and I’ve got no one to blame that on but myself. I’ve been up here since lunch, transcribing and playing computer solitaire. It’s a dull but hypnotic game. I’ve cut a picture of a Greek seaside town out of the Sunday papers and stuck it up on the wall. There are whitewashed buildings in the foreground and a steep cliff over an electric-blue sea. It relaxes me. Just looking at it, I can almost feel the sun on my neck. I want to go back there.

This time two weeks ago I was still hopeful that the verdict would go our way. This will be the worst of it if she never gets out, these interminable Sundays stretching off into the future until Margie goes to university. By that time I won’t remember what it is to be happy, the loneliness will be all through me like a cancer.

I wish Susie was home. I wish she was up here working and I was downstairs shouting up at her to come down and talk to me. Even if she was up here fantasizing about Gow, I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t care even if she was up here thinking about touching him.

That prison-lovers book says that the women hear whatever story about the murder they want to hear; if they want him to have been protecting a helpless friend, then they’ll hear that in the story he tells; if they want to excuse him on the grounds that he was forced to kill an abusive wife, then they’ll hear that. And if they can’t mitigate the cruelty, then they’ll factor in drugs or drink to explain it. But Susie couldn’t have misheard Gow. She had his records. She was his psychiatrist.

I’m so tired of thinking about it all the time. I’m tired of second-guessing every moment we’ve spent together. I can’t sleep for thinking. Even when I manage to fall asleep, I wake up with my mind careering back and forth over a big map of what-ifs and did-shes. Some did-shes bring me close to despair. Last night on the sofa I played with a did-she that made me feel elated and warm and centered. Suppose she didn’t care for Gow at all and it’s all just a mix-up. She was talking to him in the office, nothing more. She’s my wife, still my wife, and she lies in her little prison bed, hands behind her darling head, and sees me on her ceiling, longs for my presence as I long for hers.

Maybe Susie wasn’t working all the time she was up here. Maybe she was hiding the way I am now, bristling with resentment at the people downstairs. Maybe she was sitting here in this tiny closet thinking fuck them, smoking angrily, avoiding coming down.

What is it she doesn’t want me to see in here?

Box 2 Document 5 Donna’s First Letter to Gow

48 Evington Road

Evington

Leicester

2/2/98

Dear Andrew Gow,

Forgive my writing to you out of the blue but I have been in love with you for three years now so its about time we spoke!! I saw a picture of you in the paper and knew by your eyes your a kind man. You say your not guilty of those crimes and I know it’s true. In my heart I know you will not be trapped in prison forever.

Well who is your mystery admirer!?! I am twenty three and have already been divorced. My first husband was not a kind man. He drank and did not understand that I need room to breath and grow. I am not a complete dummy. I have a GCSE in typing as you can see and an HND in catering. I have a job in a health center where I work behind the reception desk. I like dancing and going out and having a good time on the town.

Sadly my dad died two months ago and it has made me see that I should grab life while I can. That is why I am writing to you. My friends tell me I am mad but I can see an angel from heaven when I look at your picture. I LOVE YOU! I dream about you at night and think about you all day!!

Maybe you will write back. If not just remember there’s a girl out here who thinks your the greatest guy in the world!!

Take care of yourself in there.

Yours sincerely,

Donna McGovern

Fucking hell, Donna!! Learn to punctuate?! I shouldn’t take the piss out of the dead, she might come back from the grave and beat me to death with an exclamation mark. Hope not!?! I should feel an affinity with her, I suppose; she was betrayed by Susie and Gow too. Why would Gow get married if he was involved with Susie?

* * *

I found this psychology report about Gow and keep thinking that one exactly like it is being drawn up about Susie.

Box 1 Document 6 Clinical Psychological Report 1994

CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGICAL REPORT ON ANDREW GOW (DOB 6/23/65): HMP BARLINNIE

1. In response to a request from the governor of the above-named prison and from Mr. Telford of the Scottish Office, I now submit this report on the above-named prisoner. The report is based on an interview of just over one hour, together with analysis of the data from a diagnostic personality test, the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI), which the prisoner agreed to complete. The writer has not canvased the views of any of the prison officers, since she understands that their impressions will be recorded elsewhere.

2. The prisoner, charged with murder, was admitted to Barlinnie prison on December 23, 1993. He is a large man who nevertheless moves easily and talks comfortably in interview. He told the psychologist that he considers himself to be a survivor and the sort of person who adapts easily to new situations. He foresees no problems in coming to terms with a lengthy sentence. He claims he is “easy-going,” can “get on with anybody,” and is “very popular,” although he prefers his own company. Later in the interview he became very angry when asked about his ex-boss at the minicab firm who had sacked him after his arrest. He said he would like to “teach him a permanent lesson.”

3. His early family life seems to have been quite troubled. He was born and educated in Bridgeton, Glasgow, a less than salubrious area. Mr. Gow’s parents fought, principally over his father’s excessive drinking. He enjoyed school and did well up until fifth year, when he failed his GCSEs and left. His parents separated when Mr. Gow was eight. He states that his relationship with his mother was “shite.” When asked to elaborate on this statement, he declared that his mother was “a cow” who never cared for him. He became quite agitated in discussing his mother. He said she made him take responsibility for his siblings and “spoiled his chances in life.” Asked whether his relationship with his mother related to the crimes he was charged with he smiled and refused to speak on the matter. He is high on anxiety and may well have more trouble forming social bonds and restraining impulsive behavior than he declares.

4. His father is now deceased. Mr. Gow no longer has con- tact with either his mother or three sisters. He is married and states that his wife will remain with him whatever the outcome of his trial.

5. Mr. Gow’s early criminal career centered on shoplifting minor items such as cigarettes, a newspaper, and a pair of lady’s tights. As regards to car theft: Mr. Gow took a neighbor’s car and drove into the country until he ran out of gas. He was picked up walking along the M8, making his way back to Bridgeton from Lanark.

6. With regard to the theft charges, he states he was “angry with himself” but wavered when questioned as to whether he regretted getting caught or stealing in the first place. He claims that he did not get caught but confessed to the police of his own volition, showing them the items and the shops he stole them from. He had intended to give the stolen items to girls to “try to get them to like him,” a statement which belies his claim to universal popularity. The charges of drunk and disorderly and breach of the peace were brought in relation to a single series of events. Having gone for a drink after work Mr. Gow became drunk and tried to catch the bus home. He argued with the driver and resisted being ejected by holding on to a seat-back. He was not violent during this or any other incident prior to the present charges.

7. With regard to the present charges, he will not talk. When questioned, he smiles and will not be pressed further. He claims he does not “fancy” talking about the incidents.

8. Throughout the whole interview, Gow was systematic and clear in his report. The veracity of what he told has of course to be taken on trust by the writer, who has only known him very briefly. What Gow has told me has to be taken as the image of himself he wishes to portray to a relative stranger at the moment. He showed no disturbance of thought or emotion at interview, although he tends to be guarded and given to inconsistent posturing, as in his claims to be easygoing/uncrossable, very popular/a loner. No intelligence test was administered on this occasion but he is probably of at least good average intelligence.

9. Gow was slightly wary of subjecting himself to the MMPI. The latter is a well-researched inventory-type test used on both sides of the Atlantic in clinical and forensic populations. Its purpose is to scan for significant personality malfunctions or psychopathy and to measure certain factors which may have predictive value for the person concerned. It also has reliability indices which measure attitudes to test-taking, e.g., tendencies to lie, to alter responses to fit in with anticipated expectations, to exaggerate, or to deny adverse features, all of which are helpful in determining how much weight to give the overall test.

10. These indices were well above normal limits, suggesting that Mr. Gow has either a tendency to lie all the time or a desire to disguise his true profile in this test. However, the attempts to lie were done in a surprisingly intelligent and consistent manner, suggesting a degree of ability when it comes to duplicity. None of the scale scores were outside normal limits apart from the psychopathic personality scale which had a significant T score of 76. Clinically this is of note, being a relatively high score. The general pattern of his test scores and attitude to the psychologist suggest that attempts at rehabilitation may be problematic. Of particular concern is his attitude to the charged offenses. He is either refusing to talk about them because he cannot excuse them, or he simply has no memory of them. The former seems more likely. In light of his high score on the psychopathic personality scale, it is suggested that future treatment of this man should probably involve: (a) limiting his work and activities; (b) perhaps group work to attempt to prompt him to talk about his offenses; (c) always approaching his self-report with care and skepticism.

11. I will be pleased to clarify or expand on anything in this report if necessary.

I hope that it will serve some useful purpose.

Yours faithfully

Valerie Elliott

chapter sixteen

I’VE GOT A HANGOVER.

Morris and Bangor came over last night and took me out for a pint. When I saw them coming through the gate, I threw the kitchen door open and ran across the lawn to them. I found myself getting a bit carried away. Luckily Morris punched me on the arm and I could pretend that it brought tears to my eyes. It’s essential never to show fear or pain in front of Mum or she’ll sit you down and try to make you talk about it. It’s inconceivable to her that anyone would rather not talk, or would like to talk to anyone but her. Of course, I wouldn’t be saying this if there weren’t a lock on this door.

Mum was delighted to see Bangor. She’s always liked him and is pleased that I’ve stayed friends with what she refers to as “degreed folk” (like the little folk but with better prospects). I think it comes from not having been to university herself. She thinks you have to be clever to get in. When Bangor flirts with her and calls her Mrs. H., she clasps her hands in front of her and looks contented.

We went for a pint and talked about football. Neither of them mentioned Susie or the papers or the trial, apart from asking me if I was all right. It was great. We sat in the snug, next to the fruit machine, and sipped Guinness and ate smoky bacon crisps.