The Wave at Hanging Rock: A Psychological Mystery and Suspense Thriller (34 page)

When he didn’t reply she went on.

“People think they’re incredibly rare. And the ones like those are. They’re the outliers. With most psychopaths, you just never get to hear about them. We call them ‘high-functioning psychopaths’. The high functioning part just means they’re able to hide their psychopathic traits from other people. No one knows how they enjoy other people’s pain. Sixty five percent of murders are never solved. Some people have a theory that undiagnosed psychopaths account for a lot of them.”

Dave said nothing.

“It’s not exactly my area of expertise, but I know a little about it. Everything that Jesse described. It’s extremely plausible. Christ he might have been reading it from some of the case files I see from time to time. These people, they kill, they steal, they rape… And sometimes they get caught but most often they don’t because they’re not panicking when they’re acting, like normal people would. They don’t make lots of mistakes. When they kill people they’re enjoying themselves. So they get good at it. Us normal people we don’t expect them to behave as they do. Because normal people wouldn’t do what they do. What I’m saying is…”

She stopped and rubbed her face with both hands.
 

“What I’m saying is. If this man is a psychopath as Jesse described - and I think he is - then flying with Jim’s firm, it’s exactly the type of behaviour we would expect. Not to keep an eye on us as you say. Not despite the risk. He’d do it
for
the risk.”

“I don’t understand,” Dave said after the room had fallen silent.

“Good. I’m glad. You shouldn’t. A normal person shouldn’t understand the motivations of a psychopath. They might have a drive to hurt or kill that makes no sense at all, to us. But to them it’s all that matters.”

“So what do you do, you psychologists, when a psychopath walks in looking for treatment? I mean what happens to these guys? What do we do here?”

Natalie drew a deep breath. “They don’t. It doesn’t happen. We see plenty of people
affected
by psychopaths, but they almost never present themselves for treatment. They don’t know that they have a problem. And why would they? You know there are studies that say one in eight of chief executives of major companies and top politicians are psychopaths? I’m not saying they’re necessarily killers, but they’re psychopaths nonetheless. Their traits help them in life. They don’t feel the same limitations normal people do. They don’t come looking for help because their ability to inflict pain and suffering upon other people without feeling anything themselves is a positive thing for them.”

Dave said nothing, so she went on.
 

“And do you know what we say to people who have been affected by a psychopath? How we treat them?”

“How?”

“We tell them to get as far away as possible. We try to patch up what’s left of their lives and tell them to run away. That’s it. And now we’re stuck with one. You and Elaine and me and my sister, and God knows who else, we’re all stuck with one of these real life monsters, watching over us. Waiting for us to find out about him.”
 

“So we go to the police.” Dave said.

Natalie’s body stiffened at the words. She shook her head.

“What do you mean? We
have
to go to the police.”
 

“You’re not understanding Dave. Jesse was right.”

“Oh damn Jesse. You shouldn’t be listening to that … that scumbag. He needs to be locked up too.”

“No. I know you didn’t like him but he’s just as much a victim in this as Jim was. As we are. In a way he’s more of a victim. He’s lived most of his life being manipulated by this man. And he’s right because he’s had years to think it through…”

“No. No. You’re wrong. He’s wrong. He’s smoked too much I don’t know what, and you, you’re…” Dave left the sentence unfinished and it hung there between them.

“If John Buckingham uses the firm’s helicopters, then he still knows about us. He watched me when Jim went missing, so he knows about my sister and the boys. He’ll know he can control me by threatening them. He’ll know about you too. He’ll know about your wife. He’ll know about Elaine.”

Dave was breathing hard, as if he’d been running.

“Then we tell the police. Dammit this is
why
we have to tell them.”

“
Oh tell them what Dave
? What do we tell them? A multi-millionaire, the partner of a film star is a psychopathic murderer? And what proof do we have? Are we going to show them that rock fall? You saw it. They’ll laugh at us. They’ll lock us up.”

“We can show them the bag. Jim’s file shows the car was left in Cornwall.”

“What does that prove? Nothing.”

“Then we give them Jesse. We make him speak to them, tell them what he told us.”

Natalie sighed. “Even if he would go, which I doubt given how scared he was, why would they believe him? They’ll see him as just another bitter, drug addict fantasist.”
 

“
So why do you believe him
?” Dave’s voice was higher and louder than normal.

They stared at each other until Natalie looked away.
 

“Because I know something about these people.” Natalie closed her eyes hard for a moment, and when she reopened them she looked at Dave, her voice calmed now. “OK. Say he does convince the police, it doesn’t help us because there isn’t enough evidence to act. So all it would do is alert Buckingham that we know about him. It’s probably why he’s been watching us all this time. God knows what he might do.”
 

The way Dave was looking at her, Natalie wondered for a minute if what she was saying was crazy.

“So what then?” He said at last. “Please don’t tell me you’re not considering Jesse’s… His
solution?”

Natalie paused before answering, and the longer the silence went on, the more ominous it sounded to her. “I’m… I’m trying to think of another way. But I’m not getting anywhere. What if there isn’t another way?”

forty-three

IN THE BUILD up to the weekend the forecasts had talked of rain, but when Saturday morning arrived the sky was settled, the few clouds that hung about were wispy, high altitude affairs that the late summer sun would probably burn off. In her preparations for the party, Elaine had fretted about the weather with her husband, or at least had tried to do so - to her frustration he seemed disinterested, preoccupied by something, what it was he wouldn’t say. She wondered at first if she was just imagining it. After all, he had always been less interested in the social side of life than she had.

Elaine liked to throw one good party each year. It was a habit she inherited from her parents, who had entertained throughout her childhood in a similar, if somewhat grander manner. And like her parents she would tell people - anyone who would listen really - that the purpose of the party was to share some of their good fortune with friends and family. To give something back.
 

Elaine grew to understand that for her mother there was another, less wholesome motive for her summer parties. They happened to allow her to show friends and family, and local councillors, prominent business people - the movers and shakers of the town - just how fortunate she had been in marrying into money. But the same could not be said for Elaine. Despite her accident Elaine did still consider herself lucky in life, and perhaps the whole experience changed her. Whatever the cause, Elaine’s parties were less pretentious than her mother’s, no less exclusive but aimed at a different circle. They weren’t a place to be seen at, more an event to enjoy. They were just more fun. And over the years Elaine and Dave’s summer party had grown into an important annual event, not just for her, but for all their friends and family.

That said, Elaine had never fooled herself that Dave entirely shared her enthusiasm. He would normally huddle up with his pilot friends, drinking beer and talking flying while she circulated, but that was OK. That was what he enjoyed. And he at least took the preparations seriously. He’d help to choose wines that were appropriate for the food. He’d see to it that the pool was cleaned. Generally he’d take an interest.
 

 
But this year, something was different. For several days Dave had been distracted and distant. And she’d hoped he would snap out of it but he got worse. He was totally disinterested. And it wasn’t just the party, he seemed to have lost all interest in everything. He wasn’t shaving, in fact he was hardly speaking to her. He was out a lot, which helped to hide it, but when he was there, it was as if he alone knew that the world was about to end. And when she asked him about it he simply denied there was anything wrong. When she pushed him - and Elaine knew how to push - he mumbled something about a problem at work, but not what it was. This in no way satisfied her. She had little interest in how the latest model of Eurocopter differed from its predecessor, and she’d sat through enough discussions of flight levels and rudder yaw to last her a lifetime. Nonetheless, when Dave told her not to worry because it was about the business it pissed her off. Not least because it was her father’s money and connections which had helped to make the business what it was.
 

And this morning - the morning of the party - she finally lost patience and snapped at him. She reeled off a list of jobs he should have done and hadn’t, and then wheeled herself around with an angry flourish. He muttered something in reply, she didn’t catch it with the noise of the rubber wheels on the tiled floor, but five minutes later she saw that he had finally stopped what he’d been doing all morning, hiding in his study hunched over his desk. Moments later she saw he was scrubbing the BBQ griddle, the bag of charcoal at his feet. She calmed down a little. She rolled around their huge, adapted kitchen putting the finishing touches to beautifully dressed tables, loaded with canapés, flowers and rented champagne flutes. She felt both vindicated yet still dissatisfied.
 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have shouted, but really. It had been Dave who insisted on not employing caterers for the event, and now she had to nag him to help getting things ready. And after almost ignoring her all week. But then she began to feel a little more guilty and angry. Dave wasn’t given to bad moods. And she knew he worried about the business. He’d taken the whole thing on since Jim died, and it had grown so fast since then. Plus of course he found social events more stressful than she did. They weren’t really his thing. Not like Jim. She stopped what she was doing and smiled. Jim. She remembered the things he’d got up to over the years. Jim liked to party. She bit her lip. Strange to think of Jim suddenly after all this time. Of course, it was probably because Natalie was coming this afternoon. With her sister too, along with the boys. They’d be, what? Nine and ten now.
 

Dave interrupted her thoughts by walking into the kitchen. He began folding back the doors that separated the kitchen from the patio area. In warm weather they could be pulled almost completely out of the way. It was one of the few jobs she was unable to do in the heavily adapted kitchen, but they’d drawn the line at the extra thousands to install electric ones. She decided to forgive her husband for the ill-natured exchanges of earlier. She would be understanding of how he felt, even if she didn’t understand it. She smiled at him warmly.

“We should keep the main tables indoors just in case it does rain,” she said.

He looked at her blankly, like he hadn’t understood a word.
 

“What?”

Two hours later and the party was underway. The tables were now half emptied, a score of Champagne bottles stacked up empty underneath. The bbq was alight, flickers of yellow-blue flame dancing up through the heap of coals. The band were taking a break, drinking bottled beer and talking with Damien, one of the younger pilots who seemed to know them from somewhere. Most of the guests had arrived, Elaine’s neck was aching a little from having to stretch upwards to receive welcome kiss after welcome kiss, and the doorbell went again. She excused herself and spun around, propelled herself to the hall. She opened the door and held out her arms.

“Natalie, Sarah. It’s great to see you.”
 

“Hi Elaine, we’re sorry we’re late,” Sarah said and shot a glance down to her children. The elder boy looked furiously embarrassed to be holding a bouquet of flowers. He gripped them close to his chest until his mother pushed him from behind, then he held them out to Elaine. “These are for you,” he mumbled.

“Oh Daniel. They’re beautiful. Come here and give me a hug.” The boys took turns to do so, their awkwardness compounded by the difficulty in leaning into the chair.

“Thank you Sarah,” Elaine said when it was over. “They’re getting big. They’re taller than me now.”

Sarah looked unsure how to answer this so smiled instead, then said: “Thank you so much for inviting us. The boys are very excited about the swimming pool.”

Daniel took this as a cue. “Can we go mum?”
 

“It’s not me you need to ask. It’s Auntie Elaine’s house.”

But Elaine didn’t wait to be asked. “Have you got your swimmers?”

There was a chorus of “Yeah”.

“You remember where it is?”

“I think they do,” Sarah said laughing, already being pulled backwards by her children. Then she stopped laughing and added: “Will you be alright Nat?”
 

Until that moment there had been nothing out of place in the greeting, but Sarah asked the question with a tone of such concern that Elaine turned to Natalie in surprise. She seemed to be staring at nothing. Elaine’s smile changed to a frown.

“Such lovely boys,” she said, to break Natalie’s trance.

It was a quite innocent remark, and quite true as well, since, although she didn’t know the boys that well, whenever she had met them they were unusually caring and clever for their age. So why the comment made Natalie wince Elaine couldn’t tell. She smiled again at Natalie, who still hadn’t stepped inside. But the smile she got back was brief, and weak.