Medea's Curse (39 page)

There was a long silence as tears ran down Tiphanie’s face. She made no attempt to
wipe them.

‘What’s the second thing about Japan?’

‘It’s a damn long way away,’ said Natalie.

‘I’m not coming back. Ever.’ Tiphanie looked at her hard. ‘If you haven’t told anyone
I can still do it. We both can. Live happily ever after.’ There was focus and a fierceness
Natalie had never seen before. Her father was right. She was a survivor.

‘My family don’t know,’ she added.

‘Amber’s family does.’

Tiphanie still wouldn’t acknowledge it. ‘If you tell Travis, he’ll kill me.’

All things considered, Natalie doubted it.

‘And, he’d have access to her,’ Tiphanie said. Her eyes narrowed, letting Natalie
reflect on the implications that Tiphanie had weighed up over weeks, if not months.
‘I’ll never go back to him, but the fucking courts will give him access. Custody,
if I get put away for what I’ve done. Without me there to protect her, he’ll kill
her.’ She turned on Natalie and hit her hard on the chest, pummelling her with all
her strength. ‘You fucking can’t. He tried to kill her once already, just like I
pretended it happened. He threw her and she hit her head. It was what made up my
mind. I was going to make a better life for us both. Protect her no matter what.
Because he’ll do it again, I know he will.’

Natalie, who was much the same size as Tiphanie, was struggling to remain upright
under the onslaught. In the end she swept her leg under Tiphanie’s so the girl landed
on her butt.

‘This conversation never happened,’ said Natalie.

Chapter 34

‘You look calmer than I have seen you in a while.’ Declan observed.

‘Thank you for not reporting me,’ said Natalie. ‘I wasn’t manic and I’m out of those
cases now.’

She wouldn’t relax completely until Travis had been convicted but he had been refused
bail which augured well. She was taking her pills again; full dose. ‘I’ve made my
mind up on Georgia,’ Natalie added.

Declan raised an eyebrow. ‘An absolute truth?’

‘No.’

Declan waited.

‘To be honest, I don’t know what I’m going to say in court.’

‘You have three options, as I recall,’ said Declan. ‘One: Bad—she had a personality
disorder and acted in anger when killing her children. Two: Mad—she had D.I.D.’

‘It might be a variation of the third one: grey and murky. Personality disorder
plus
external influence; there was pathology in the relationship, no doubt. Paul isn’t
the main driver if he’s involved at all. But that’s gut feeling, no real evidence.’

This wasn’t black and white, it was real life with all its complexities. But Georgia
was in control. And when she had worked out what Georgia had been doing, it had opened
her eyes to Tiphanie.

‘You’d better read it,’ said Natalie, putting her report on Corinne’s desk. ‘Wadhwa
will go mental.’

Corinne’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I thought you decided he was right.’

‘She had me conned for a while.’

‘I’m meeting with him at eleven o’clock. Make sure he has a copy before then and
be here to defend it.’

‘I don’t know about the genetics,’ Natalie began, feeling curiously detached and
barely registering Wadhwa’s look of simmering fury. ‘Certainly the rejecting mother—both
her real one and her aunt—and an affectionate but abusive father left their mark
on her personality from an early age. She was a smart child who craved love and acceptance
but saw that the love of a man was the kind that counted.’

‘Not the love of a child?’ Corinne rather than Wadhwa.

‘I think she mostly felt her children were in competition with her. The first pregnancy
was no use to her, and I imagine it was quite easy for her to separate herself from
it. The others? There were probably times she had positive feelings, even love. Olivia
probably lasted the longest because she was little trouble. But ultimately as a toddler
she was becoming her own person, and Georgia couldn’t tolerate that. She couldn’t
share Paul’s affection.’

‘She dissociates!’ said Wadhwa.

‘Yes, but not into complete personalities, and not enough to explain murder,’ said
Natalie.

Corinne looked at her curiously. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘She has a mixed Cluster B personality disorder—narcissistic, borderline and antisocial—and
she’s smart. She doesn’t have well-defined personalities, nor shifts that last any
length of time. She probably dissociates, but only briefly. And the time she did
it in my office, at least, it was carefully orchestrated.’ She thought about the
toy rabbit and the envelope that just happened to fall out of her bag. ‘She has had
this planned for a long time; she planned it when she was in prison.’

Natalie wasn’t sure about everything, but most things had fallen into place. The
card with the Sydney postmark? All she needed was a friend in Sydney. It was not
beyond the realms of possibility that she had enlisted her mother, Lee.

But this was where the evidence ran out and her intuition took over and where she’d
have preferred to present her third hypothesis. There were things about Paul that
didn’t ring quite true. Why had he stayed in the marriage so long? The word
amused
rang in her ears; his word or hers? He had found Jonah, the boy, dead. He
could
have
sent the cards.

But given the first pregnancy was before Paul, Georgia’s pathology was still the
common factor.

‘She was in prison, a prison full of women from troubled pasts and not as smart as
her on the whole. She just had to wait for the right one, with the right story.’

Wadhwa snorted. ‘I think you are spending too much time with the police and lawyers.’

‘Possibly,’ agreed Natalie, ‘though not for much longer.’

Corinne looked at her quizzically but said nothing.

‘I think she decided to see me because I have a reputation for telling the court
how it is, for getting…over-involved.
She thought I was a man-hater or at least a
crusader against down-trodden women, from Amber, one of my patients in prison, and
that she’d be able to use this to fool me.’

Georgia would have heard about the pink bunny rabbits from the prisoners, as well
as directly from Celeste. Enough to allow her to frame Paul as a paedophile when
she was afraid her D.I.D. diagnosis wasn’t going to work. And do it slowly and subtly.
Georgia had known from Barrett that the chances of D.I.D. getting her off were low—and
that Natalie wasn’t committed to it. Ironic in retrospect: when Barrett had asked,
Natalie was on the verge of being convinced Georgia did have D.I.D.

‘Georgia had enough to set up her husband Paul. And there was an element of luck.
There was a connection with a serious paedophile I knew about, and she picked my
reaction, my request for a photocopy of her bunny card, and went with it.’ Natalie
remembered staring at the logo on the card, Georgia watching her and then demurely
agreeing to mention it to Jacqueline Barrett. Georgia must have thought she’d hit
the mother lode.

Wadhwa looked as if he was going to explode. ‘This is preposterous!’

Natalie ignored him.

‘It’s particularly critical because if Georgia can get the murder charges changed
to infanticide she’ll get a much lighter sentence. She may be able to do it because
Olivia was one week short of her second birthday, and Olivia died in the year Victoria
amended the act to extend infanticide up to the age of two. If I had to put money
on it I’d say that had something to do with the timing of the death.’

‘This is a very brilliant legal case,’ said Wadhwa, ‘but not a psychiatric one. What
is your
evidence
?’

‘Evidence?’ Natalie thought better of reminding him he had told her psychiatrists
should rely on history and mental state. ‘I know about the link with Amber, which
was her link to me. I think Georgia used to push the patients here for information
too; all the abuse victims tended to get worse when they were here in Yarra Bend
with her.’

Natalie took a breath. ‘Then there’s Paul, Georgia’s husband. Paul denies sending
the cards.’ He had been convincing; maybe not totally innocent, maybe stupid, but
thankfully for his daughter, Miranda, there was no evidence for him being a threat,
beyond the line Georgia had spun.

‘Anything more?’ asked Corinne.

‘This.’ Natalie produced her notes from the prison.

Wadhwa grabbed at them. ‘And this is?’

‘Georgia was studying an arts course. These are the subjects she took.’

The three of them looked at the list: Freudian Analysis, Psychology and the Law,
Mental Disorder and Criminal Responsibility.

‘So she plans to use this as an entry into a degree in criminology,’ suggested Corinne.

‘Right.’

Wadhwa started to object. He looked confused by Natalie’s sarcasm.

‘Ultimately,’ said Corinne slowly, ‘it is not up to you to apportion blame. You only
have to state what you have been told and observed, and what your conclusions are,
based on this.’

‘This is all nonsense,’ said Wadhwa throwing Natalie’s notes onto Corinne’s desk.
‘She has D.I.D. and she was
not responsible
for her actions.’

‘Possibly,’ agreed Natalie, ‘but we don’t
know
that do
we? I’ve seen her angry and
she was very much in control.’ She had turned the anger on herself. The self-harm
had been occurring right after Genevieve was born. Mutilating her genitals was perhaps
a way of punishing herself for failing as a mother, hurting herself initially, as
the rage built, rather than hurting her children. Or perhaps hurting herself because
of what she had done to them. With or without Paul pushing the buttons. She was damaged,
of that there was no doubt. But she had the mental capacity to make choices and understand
consequences. That was the difference, ultimately, between bad and mad.

‘
I
know she has D.I.D.’

‘Really, Associate Professor Wadhwa?’ Natalie and Wadhwa both stared at Corinne.
There was a tense silence.

‘Are you questioning my judgment?’

Corinne looked at Wadhwa pointedly. ‘You think there is no chance she knew what she
was doing?’

‘That is correct.’

‘Your certainty is rather alarming Professor Wadhwa. Natalie has been seeing Georgia
Latimer for some time, and psychiatry has its grey areas, don’t you think?’

Wadhwa pulled out a well-used sheet of paper from his leather compendium. ‘I am the
senior clinician. You must accept my professional judgment or I have no choice but
to resign.’

Corinne looked at it, then at Natalie, before stretching out her hand. ‘Thank you,
Professor Wadhwa. I’m sure we’ll all miss you.’

Operation Bunny was on the front page of the Saturday papers. Jesse Cadek had been
arrested. It seemed like there would be months of trawling through his computers
and
following up but the police were already questioning two other men. There was
a small inset picture of Liam O’Shea, and interviews with him on the evening news.
He looked pleased. Travis made page three of the same edition. Bail denied. The media
had already convicted him and cast doubt over the police investigation into the death
of his first child. Amber’s family had declined to comment.

Damian came to Melbourne to have Sunday lunch with her. ‘Our boy is shitting himself.
Thinks he’s going down for life without parole. Still saying he’s innocent.’ Damian
looked at her hard. ‘You don’t seem surprised.’

‘Just a lot to take in.’

Damian looked like he was contemplating asking her something, but then decided against
it. ‘Helped that we found out Travis was thrown out of school for downloading pornographic
literature, among other things,’ Damian added. ‘When we impounded his computer Travis
became convinced we were going to frame him for pornography. Probably more worried
now if he’s read the papers.’

‘You deserve a promotion, Damian,’ said Natalie. ‘You got the bad guy put away.’

Damian just looked at her.

Chapter 35

Natalie hadn’t booked anyone into Jessie’s appointment slot, though she didn’t think
Jessie would turn up. But people could surprise you. Beverley buzzed to say she was
on her way in.

Jessie looked washed out, but managed a smile. It might have been a week since her
hair had seen shampoo.

‘They took him away.’

Natalie nodded. ‘How are you feeling about that?’

Jessie looked out the window. Natalie watched Jessie use the silence that followed
to feel contained, safe. Jessie had already shown great strength. Now she needed
Natalie to believe in her: trust her to deal with whatever came up in the aftermath
of her abuser’s arrest. Not alone, but empowered as well as supported by Natalie
and those around her.

‘I don’t know,’ Jessie said. ‘The first thing I thought was that I needed to do something.
Like I was to blame, and somehow I had to help him.’

‘And then?’

‘Hannah said I was talking shit. Thinks he’ll get what he deserves in prison. Kyle
says he’s an arsehole too.’

‘Kyle?’

‘He never liked Jay. He’s being great. Better now he’s got it straight that I’m gay’—she
grinned—‘and want to wait for Hannah.’

Natalie smiled. The beginnings of the support network she needed were in place.

‘I think Jay shopped Hannah to the police.’ Jessie looked to Natalie for confirmation.

Natalie nodded. The more she had thought about it, the more Jay’s acceptance of Jessie’s
relationship didn’t gel. But he’d been able to effectively remove Hannah from Jessie’s
life. Which meant he hadn’t been as worried about Hannah as he had been about Natalie.

Jessie was picking at a sore on her arm, where the bunny motif had been. The sore
started to bleed. It was going to take her internal pain a lot longer to heal, but
the process had started.

Beverley buzzed her as she was packing up.

‘There’s another patient here,’ she said sounding irritable. ‘Did you book her in?’