Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller (19 page)

I watched someone walking a dog
across the park. Far off in the skyline I could see the gentle
rising of hills on the outskirts of London.

“So how can I help?”

“I’m here about one of your
patients. Josephine Baird.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“Are you aware she’s dead?”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah.”

“She missed an appointment in
November. Sarah called her afterwards—common practice—to confirm
another appointment. But I don’t believe she had any luck getting a
hold of her.”

“Makes sense. She died at the
beginning of November.”

“That’s awful.”

“Is that Japanese?”

I gestured towards a strangely
aged teapot resting on a mat of bamboo.

“Yes.”

“I saw something like that once,
on TV. Some Japanese place where they take fifteen minutes to make
the tea. Makes you think.”

“Think what?”

“What kind of person takes
fifteen minutes to make tea. Maybe they enjoy making the tea more
than drinking it.”

“I would imagine it’s something
like that. May I ask, how did Josephine die?”

“Well, that’s actually what I
wanted to ask you.”

“I doubt I can really help you
with that. Please, take a seat.”

I sat down on the comfortable
leather sofa he had indicated, and he sat down opposite me on a
chair I noticed was slightly higher. I figured that was a
psychiatrist’s thing.

“Psychiatrists can prescribe
drugs, right?”

“Correct.”

“Did you prescribe any for
Josephine?”

“I only prescribe medication
when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“How long was she seeing
you?”

“Let me think… It was summer
when I first saw her. July perhaps. A few months. I could check for
you.”

“Why did she come to see
you?”

“You do realise I cannot easily
share this kind of information, don’t you?”

His expression shifted
momentarily to something more concerned. He still looked calm, but
I could tell he was sizing me up.

“Sorry to be rude, but may I see
some form of ID officer?”

“Why?”

“Please, don’t be offended. It’s
just a habit of mine.”

“No, of course.”

I reached into my inner pocket,
then my outer pockets; making a bit of a show of it.

“This is embarrassing. I must
have left it at the station. I was in a bit of a rush today.”

Dr.Hughton’s expression once
again shifted. He sat back, squinted slightly, and said:

“You’re Josephine’s boyfriend,
aren’t you?”

I said nothing, and the silence
that followed felt aggressive. Car horns sounded beyond the glass
window.

“Yeah, I am. Doesn’t matter
though. She’s still dead, and I’m still here to ask you why.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I
don’t see how I can help you. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

“She died from an overdose; an
apparent suicide. So it’s very much to do with you.”

“In what way?”

“You were her psychiatrist: It
was your job to keep her brain healthy, right? So if it was
suicide, then you didn’t do your job very well.”

“That’s an incredibly
misinformed thing to say.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. You’ve never seen a
psychiatrist, have you?”

“I had a counsellor when I was a
kid once. Pretty useless.”

“A counsellor isn’t really the
same.”

“I’m sure they don’t get paid as
much, that’s for sure.”

He stood up slowly and held an
arm out towards the door.

“I’m sorry… Joseph? Is it? I
understand this is a troubling time for you but…”

“No. You don’t understand at
all. Sit down.”

We stared at each other for a
full few seconds. It was not so much a matter of intimidation, as
much as it was of seriousness. He smiled slightly.

“I get the impression, Joseph,
that you’re someone who can’t leave things unresolved.”

“Who can?”

“True. But you seem almost
obsessive.”

He sat down and looked at me,
then at his watch.

“Well, I have ten minutes. But I
really cannot tell you anything. I’d like to help you, but it would
be a huge breach of practice.”

“Don’t think of me as Josie’s
boyfriend then. Think of me as an interested student or
something.”

“Haha! Very good. Semantics are
a great tool in any argument.”

“What are semantics?”

He looked at me curiously.

“I can’t tell you much, but I
will say one thing: Josephine’s case was a rather strange one.”

“In what way?”

He put his hand to his face in a
thoughtful posture, gauging what he could say.

“Are you interested in
advertising?”

“I usually turn over.”

“No, not just TV adverts.
Advertising as a concept.”

I thought about it. I wasn’t
sure what he was driving at.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ve written a lot about
ethical uses of advertising. And I believe that was the reason
Josephine chose me as her psychiatrist.”

“I don’t understand. Was she
interested in advertising too?”

“To say anything more would be
irresponsible of me.”

“Come on! I need to know! Josie
is de-!”

There was a knock at the
door.

“Yes?”

Sarah opened the door
slowly.

“Dr. Hughton. Mr. Craig is here
to see you.”

“Thank you Sarah. Joseph, I’m
sorry I couldn’t help you further, but – “

“You’ve got to tell me
more.”

“I can’t. Really, I would love
to help you, but I cannot.”

The look on his face was calm
and assured. I knew he wasn’t going to tell me anything more, even
if I begged all evening.

“Ok, fine, but I’ll come back.
And I’ll keep coming back until I find out what I need to
know.”

I left his office before he
could say anything. The blond said goodbye in her formal voice but
I swept myself down the stairs and out into the street swiftly. My
mind was full of questions, and I was frustrated that I hadn’t been
able to get more information out of Dr. Hughton, but I was willing
to wait. There were still some other leads I wanted to follow, as
well as trying to get that laptop. It was enough, for now, to let
him know that I would return. Perhaps when I did, he would have
more to say.

The cold was biting as I waited
outside the gates making idle chit-chat with parents I knew
vaguely. The beginnings of frost were making themselves shown; it
was going to be a bitter winter. The school doors opened and
amongst the crowd Vicky came out carrying her coat outstretched as
if it were a smelly animal.

“What are you playing at? Put
your coat on, Vee. It’s freezing.”

“It wasn’t my fault. I dropped
it in a puddle.”

“What? Oh Jesus, that’s soaked…
On the inside too!”

“It’s not my fault! James pushed
me! I was looking that way and then he did this and then…”

“Nevermind. Here, take mine.
Give me that.”

“What about you? You’re gonna
catch cold now.”

“No I won’t. Not if you make me
a cup of tea when we get home.”

“You’re shaking! You look like a
ghost.”

She was right; it took only a
few seconds before I began shivering.

“I’ll race you to the end of the
street. If you beat me I’ll give you piggy back home.”

“One two three go!”

“Wait!”

I let her win so I would have to
carry her, hoping the physical exertion would warm me up a little.
As I carried her she talked about her day: Painting, the incident
with the puddle, and some book about aliens.

“You looking forward to the zoo
tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess who’s coming?”

“Who? Davy?”

“No.”

“Julie?”

“No, I’ll give you a clue.
Rhymes with Veronica.”

She didn’t answer.

“Come on, can’t you guess?
Begins with M.”

Again, no answer.

“Monika, silly!”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, I spoke to her
today.”

“Awesome!”

I wondered why she hadn’t
guessed her name, and figured that she was cautious about
mentioning Monika around me. It was the first time I had ever
noticed her do that, and it made me a little worried. I couldn’t
blame her, but I hated that she felt she couldn’t say something
around me. I let it pass, glad that things were good between us
again, and that she was happy. I was adamant I wouldn’t let things
get worse again.

The zoo was a washout. As well
as the frost which had begun to harden the night before, it rained
consistently throughout the day. Vicky, Monika, and I traipsed
around the puddle-ridden tarmac paths, between the depressingly
empty compounds. Most of the animals were understandably reluctant
to come out into the rain, let alone play and interact with us.

It wasn’t too bad though; we
spent most of our time in the enclosures, looking at reptiles,
exotic birds, and butterflies. Vicky’s enthusiasm was enough for
all of us to fight the steep coldness until afternoon, but
tiredness set in when the already-grey light began to darken
again.

In the reptile house I watched a
tortoise move its head as if in slow motion. It was huge, and the
weight of its wide, bumped shell seemed impossible. It looked tough
enough to take a bullet. I read a plaque which said the tortoise
was over a hundred and fifty years old. Stupidly, I wondered what
it must be like to live as a tortoise.

“Looks almost as grumpy as
you.”

I turned around. Monika was
standing beside me.

“Where’s Vicky?”

She gestured towards the end of
the enclosure.

“She’s waiting for the dragons
to breath fire.”

“We should probably get going
after we see the monkeys.”

“Yeah, I think Vicky’s getting a
bit tired. It’s freezing. Why did you choose the zoo of all
places?”

“I didn’t, Vicky did. I think
she’s been reading an animal encyclopaedia.”

The tortoise reared its head
towards us and gave us a blank, jaded gaze.

“Are you alright, Joseph?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I can never tell
what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking about this
turtle.”

“That’s a tortoise, not a
turtle.”

“Same thing.”

“Turtles are the ones that
swim.”

“I don’t care what they’re
called. Neither does he probably.”

“It’s a she, I think.”

“No, it’s a boy. Says it
here.”

I pointed at the plaque. Monika
brushed aside some locks that hung from beneath her wool cap and
read it.

“So he is.”

I waited for a family to pass by
behind us and out of earshot then turned to Monika.

“Are you going to Josie’s
funeral tomorrow?”

Monika stood up straight and
held her arms tightly folded. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Are you still on that?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not
going.”

“So why ask? You know I am. I
had to arrange some things for it.”

“Just curious.”

The tortoise looked away and
began the arduous process of taking a forward step.

“Is that a bump on your head?
Have you been fighting?”

“I’m alright.”

“You’re still running around
chasing your tail, aren’t you? Honestly, when are you going to move
on, Joseph? It’s getting a bit ridiculous now.”

“I told you; when I uncover the
truth.”

“Well there’s truth, and there’s
looking for things that aren’t there. You can waste your life
looking for those.”

“I’ve already found out enough.
It’s just a matter of putting it together now.”

“What have you found out?”

I glanced at her. There was a
look of pitying kindness in her eyes.

“A lot.”

“Tell me.”

The tortoise finally placed its
foot down, and shifted its weight.

“There’s this group of people.
Nutjobs; but Josie was interested in them for some reason. I think
they believe in these spirits, magic or something. They’re pretty
violent—hence the bruise.”

“So of course you think they
killed her.”

“Maybe. Do you know her
brother?”

“Sebastien?”

“Yeah.”

“She told me about him. He
didn’t sound nice. Wait… I think I met him actually. Yeah, I did.
He seemed a bit of a sleazebag.”

“He came to see me. Threatened
me, then tried to pay me off.”

“Pay you off? What for?”

“To not go to the funeral.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you take it?”

“Course not.”

“How much?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You think he killed Josie too,
then?”

“It’s possible.”

“Right. Who else? Do you think I
killed her?”

“You could have.”

“Haha. Ok, you caught me. I’m a
serial killer.”

The tortoise raised its other
foot.

“Oh my god, you’re serious,
aren’t you Joseph? You think I killed her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said
it’s a possibility.”

“How is that a possibility?! My
god, Joseph! I tell you what, I want to kill you right now. I can’t
believe some of the conversations I have with you. You are
genuinely insane, you know that?”

“Calm down. People can hear
you.”

“What do you expect? When you
accuse me of murder?”

“I didn’t accuse you. Why are
you getting so upset?”

She stared at me with wide eyes
and open mouth, lost for words.

“I’m… Wow… That’s amazing. I’m…
amazed.”

“I don’t really think you killed
her. I’m just saying it could be anyone.”

“Oh, thank you. Thanks for
thinking I’m ever so slightly too nice to be a murderer—almost. I’m
gonna say this to you one more time Joseph, and I pray to god you
actually remember it. Josephine was not murdered. She commited
suicide. That’s all there is to it. It’s tough, I know, but you
have to get over it. All of this theorising you’re doing is
pointless. Can’t you see you’re just doing this because you can’t
handle it? This isn’t a movie, or some crappy TV drama, people
don’t get murdered like that.”