Twisted (42 page)

‘Okay, he can go.’

Jackson tucked the files under his arm. It had been yet another waste of time, but he reckoned before the day was out all hell would break loose when the information from the press conference was made public.

Chapter 30

R
eid watched the Fulfords’ reaction carefully as he explained the interim diagnosis of Professor Cornwall. It was excruciatingly painful as they digested the possibility that their daughter was alive, but that an aggressive personality might have taken control of her mind and she might actively seek to harm people mentioned in the journal.

‘Are we to take this professor’s diagnosis at face value, because I find it hard to believe that Amy has taken on another identity. I mean, if this is the truth, does she not know who she is?’ Marcus asked nervously.

‘If, as Cornwall believes, she is suffering from DID, then if a dominant alter takes over her whole being then the real Amy is not aware of it or what she is doing.’

‘Oh my God.’ Lena started shaking.

Reid knew he had to continue. ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder can be linked back to childhood, if there has been a very powerful trauma. It is possible that your decision to divorce may have been the catalyst that forced her into taking on multiple identities.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Marcus said.

‘Each identity will have a separate set of memories. Your separation and the fact that she was placed in boarding school were traumatic for Amy as well.’

Marcus turned to Lena, saying that boarding school had never been his choice. She glared at him.

‘Don’t start trying to put any of this onto me, you can’t blame me. What we should be doing is trying to think back, trying to answer Detective Reid’s question.’

‘What question, for God’s sake? I am at a loss to understand any of this and we don’t even know if she is dead or alive.’ Marcus was nearly losing it. He jumped up from the sofa. ‘If she is suffering from this DID thing I never saw any sign of it. The last time I saw her she was happy-go-lucky and the same as she always was. Now I am supposed to believe she is all these different people and may be living somewhere with a new identity. She is fifteen years old, for God’s sake.’ He was running his hands through his hair, and what interested Reid was that he appeared not to grasp the situation.

Lena yet again was proving to be far more intelligent than her husband and pointed out to him that at no time had she ever demanded Amy’s room be so tidy. ‘Isn’t it more likely that this multiple personality was actually forming with her father?’

Reid did not want to get into a bickering match with regard to who had done what, or who was to blame.

‘It’s important for you both to really try and recall any incident, perhaps going as far back as three or four years old, when Amy had some traumatic experience.’

‘I don’t recall ever being aware of any kind of trauma,’ Marcus said emphatically.

‘Because she hid it, Marcus; for heaven’s sake, sit down and stop pacing around the room.’

‘I am pacing round the room because I don’t recall or remember anything, and don’t start to lecture me—’

‘Don’t be so childish. Sit down and think about it because I sincerely doubt that Detective Reid is asking us about some trivial childish accident. It’s sexual, isn’t it, Inspector?’

She looked directly at Reid; her incredible eyes were over-bright. Marcus slowly sat beside her with an incredulous expression on his face.

‘Yes it may well be,’ Reid said.

‘I can’t believe you’re dredging up that abuse crap again.’

Reid kept his voice low, trying to calm Marcus down, and explained that Dissociative Identity Disorder was frequently a result of sexual abuse as a child.

‘Dear God.’ Marcus leaned back, closing his eyes, and then turned to his wife. ‘How come you know all about this?’

Yet again Lena appeared to be more controlled than her husband.

‘Because I know – just don’t let’s get into what or how I am aware, but believe me, I understand, and we have to acknowledge that something could have happened to Amy.’

Just as Reid thought they were going in the right direction, Marcus went to fix himself a drink. He poured a stiff scotch and walked back to the coffee table.

‘Go back to what you said about an aggressive alter thing harming people. I mean, if that identity is controlling Amy do we take it seriously?’ Marcus asked.

Lena stood up. ‘No, no, that can’t be right, it’s preposterous, and I think we should concentrate on trying to recall—’

‘Shut up,’ he snapped at his wife, and sat on the arm of the sofa furthest away from her.

Reid felt he was losing control and attempted to placate them by gesturing with his hands for them to be calm.

‘I understand that Professor Cornwall’s observations and my concerns must be distressing for you, but I believe we need to take the possible threats seriously. All the people referred to in the journal as “enemies” or to whom hatred is directed will be warned to be vigilant. We should also go over the journal together and see if anyone named could have had a connection to the trauma that brought about your daughter’s illness.’

Marcus drained his scotch and his face took on a moody sullen look; to Reid’s mind he was being childishly belligerent.

‘I will ask you some questions that might trigger a response or a memory. So firstly, has Amy ever attempted suicide?’

They both said ‘No!’ in unison.

‘Have you at any time been aware that she was self-harming?’

Marcus glanced at his wife, and she shook her head. ‘No, never to my knowledge.’

‘Did she ever have a pet, maybe a puppy or a kitten – something she was very attached to?’

Lena said that Amy had wanted a dog, a King Charles spaniel, but the time had never been right, and with her going to boarding school it was not an option.

‘Why are you asking about her having a pet?’ Marcus asked.

Reid explained that it was usual in many cases of DID for the victim to self-harm, or kill an animal they cared about.

‘She never had a pet. I need to make a phone call.’ Marcus stomped out of the room, taking out his mobile, and slammed the door shut.

Lena gave a sigh. ‘I’m sorry, but he’s never grown up and I think he is finding this very difficult to deal with, as am I, but I honestly cannot think of any event that might have caused—’

‘Do you accept Professor Cornwall’s diagnosis?’

‘I don’t know; what in many ways is sort of helping me is the idea that she is alive, because I was beginning to believe she couldn’t be, but if what you have told us is the truth, then it will be imperative we find some answers to your questions.’

Reid could not help but be impressed by her, as she spoke quietly and positively and he admired her for remaining calm, unlike her husband, who came back and stood in the doorway, tears in his eyes.

‘Simon Boatly died two hours ago. I just spoke to his partner, a guy called Grant.’

Lena immediately went and put her arms around him, but he pushed her away.

‘Leave me alone, leave me alone!’ he shouted and, sobbing uncontrollably, left the room.

Lena suggested Reid return in the morning as she felt they could not continue.

‘I’m sorry, it must have been a very difficult interview with us, but I am sure you understand that Marcus will need me, he and Simon were very close.’ She hurried after her husband before Reid was able to agree to her suggestion.

Reid headed back to the station with a heavy heart, but he knew he had to give a report of the day’s interviews. Meanwhile he confirmed Simon Boatly’s death with the hospital, asking them to keep the body in the morgue as he would be seeking permission for a forensic post mortem. As he drove towards the station he recalled his meeting with the elegant suntanned man, who had complained of flu-like symptoms. He remembered all the empty bottles of wine left in the untidy sitting room. Reid’s mind flashed back to the earlier meeting with Mrs Vicks and Amy’s exercise books. He pulled over sharply, the brakes screeching the car to a halt, and reached over to the back seat to grab the plastic bag containing Amy’s school exercise books, pulling them out and stacking them on his lap. He flicked open the history book and found the section on the Roman Empire and the essay on the murder of Claudius Caesar. There it was, right in front of his eyes, ‘Death Cap’ mushroom and organ failure. He threw the book on the passenger seat and again rummaged through the pile on his lap until he came to Amy’s Biology book. He flicked through the pages until he found the drawing of the ‘Ink Cap’ mushroom and the words underlined beneath it: ‘If this is ingested and combined with alcohol, even hours later, it can cause death . . .’

A totally stunned Reid sat back in his car seat and the schoolbooks slid like a cascade of cards, one by one, from his lap into the driver’s well. He banged the palms of his hands on the steering wheel as it dawned on him that one of Amy’s alters intended not merely to physically assault those who had aggrieved it, but to murder them by the use of poison mushrooms. He grabbed his phone and dialled the Fulford house.

Chapter 31

L
ena took the call from Reid in the kitchen.

‘Mrs Fulford, I know this may sound strange but I think one of Amy’s alters is trying to kill its perceived enemies by using poisonous mushrooms.’

He heard her gasp, and then she said, ‘That is totally ridiculous. How on earth can you even suggest something so outrageous?’

‘I know it may sound ludicrous, but her journal has entries in it about poisonous mushrooms and so do her schoolbooks, which one of her teachers gave to me.’

‘I really haven’t got time for this, Insp—’

‘Please hear me out, Mrs Fulford,’ Reid pleaded and then went into greater detail about the journal, the schoolbooks and poisonous mushrooms.

Having finished what he was saying, he waited for a reply, but none came. ‘Mrs Fulford, are you all right?’

‘I don’t know . . . I can’t . . . I mean why, why would she want to poison people?’ Lena said, sounding distinctly shocked by what she had been told.

‘You have to understand it’s not the Amy you love and know who is doing this, but another personality altogether.’

Again there was a pause and he could hear her crying. ‘I don’t want to unduly alarm you, but to be on the safe side, please check your fridge and freezer for anything untoward and put it to one side for me to collect.’

She thanked him for his advice and Reid promised he would contact her later.

Marcus was lying face down across the bed. Lena told him it was about time he got himself together.

‘Go away. I want some privacy.’

‘No I won’t, you need to listen to me because DI Reid has just called with some very disturbing news.’

Marcus sat up and listened intently as Lena recounted the conversation word for word. He would have thought it a load of rubbish, but for the fact that Lena was so calm and serious about the matter.

‘You took Amy to Henley, and it would be in the time frame when this DID was manifesting itself. Maybe I have been right all along and Simon—’

‘Jesus Christ, Lena, Simon would never have abused Amy.’

‘What if he was poisoned as some sort of revenge. How often did she go into his house?’

Marcus let it slowly sink in as he remembered something, and he was visibly shaken.

‘What is it, Marcus? I can tell you’re hiding something.’

‘Amy did go into Simon’s house a couple of weeks back when we went riding. She had a plastic carrier bag, but when she came out from the house she didn’t have it with her. I asked her if she had forgotten it and she said it was just some dog biscuits for Wally and she’d left them in the kitchen.’

‘We’ll have to tell Detective Reid,’ Lena said as she walked out, leaving Marcus in a state of wretched confusion.

She went into the utility room and opened the large double-fronted freezer. She checked through all the various compartments, rummaging through packets of chicken, beef, fish, bags of frozen chips and vegetables, and began to search for any cooked dishes that might contain mushrooms. Agnes would buy in bulk and prepare the dishes, placing them into plastic cartons neatly labelled with the date. These were used at weekends when the housekeeper was not at the house and Lena was alone. Many of the cartons were enough for two people, and she would defrost them and if Amy was at home for the weekend they ate them together.

Lena took out every single plastic carton or zipped bag containing leftovers or home-cooked meals. Throwing them all into a bin bag, she closed the freezer doors, went outside and dumped the bag in the bin.

Returning to the house, she could hear the phone ringing. Marcus must have picked it up from the bedroom, so she went to the foot of the stairs and called up, asking if it was for her. He appeared on the landing above and told her it was Marjory Jordan. Lena frowned, certain she did not have an appointment.

‘What does she want?’

‘To see if you’re all right. Do you want to speak to her?’

‘No, tell her I’m fine and will call tomorrow, and can you come down and look through the photograph albums with me please?’

Marcus went back into the bedroom as Lena went round the house collecting all the family photo albums. She took them through to the dining room and divided them up for them both to go over to try and pinpoint when Amy’s facial expressions noticeably changed to something sinister. Marcus came down after a while and said that Marjory was just checking in, and there was no missed appointment.

He sat beside her and looked at her as she took out a notebook and pen and opened an album.

‘You know, you consistently amaze me. I would have thought you would maybe need to talk with your therapist after what we’ve been told, but instead of you being the one cracking up, I am – I can’t even think straight, I’m so emotional.’

She smiled and patted his hand. ‘You always have been, darling, and you know, sometimes having such awful things to deal with sort of straightens out my thoughts, prevents my darkness from invading me. That’s what it feels like, you know, and it is difficult to control, because sometimes it starts without warning, a terrible feeling of despair envelops me, makes me feel totally inadequate, incapable of thinking straight and unable to cope.’