Lynda La Plante - Twisted

Reid was shocked at the change in Lena’s physical appearance; her hair was clipped back in an unflattering way, she had lost weight and looked pale and drawn. She wore woollen socks as she kept on losing her slippers, which added to her looking older and mentally unstable. Sometimes she was eager to talk, other times her voice was slurred and she seemed to find it difficult to concentrate, often repeating herself over and over, or asking for a question to be repeated as she had forgotten what Cornwall asked.

Cornwall slowly drew from her the details of her enemies. He was able to pinpoint the time when she had begun to have severe lapses of control, which came after Marcus and Lena separated. She was repulsed by her driver, who she claimed touched her in an inappropriate manner, making her feel inadequate and incapable of being able to sack him. This was exacerbated by the suspicions that Agnes and he were in cahoots and passing information to Marcus about her business. Lena’s paranoia had been moving towards a psychotic breakdown, and with Amy spending alternate weekends with Marcus, she felt that everyone was against her. As she grew increasingly incapable of dealing with the pressure, the underlying but as yet controlled DID began to take over her rational thinking. Lena was able to concentrate on her business, and even display successful financial acumen, but after the meeting with the divorce lawyers, her most controlling identity, known as alter three or the Boss, began to dominate and coordinate the means of getting rid of her enemies. By now she was deeply concerned about Amy’s relationship with her art teacher Miss Polka, as her daughter had at some point implied that she cared for her deeply, and this was yet another sign that she was even losing her daughter’s love. She had also seen the abuse directed at Amy on the web, which intimated she was having a lesbian affair with an older woman. Although she had no idea who was responsible, in her mind – by chance correctly – it had to be the nasty little Serena who was responsible and had to pay. For being unkind to Amy.

The Boss took over the story, slyly describing how she knew Amy had put a spare set of Marcus’s flat keys in her kitchen drawer. She related how she had stolen into the flat many times when she knew they were out, and it was most hideous to listen to her explaining how she had used a little poison to make Amy feel unwell. Sometimes she placed a few drops in a half-drunk Coke bottle already in Amy’s room, or in a meal eaten before going to her father’s flat.

Cornwall gently prodded and queried how she had intended removing her ‘enemies’, and a previously unheard voice started to dominate the session. It was a clear, well-spoken, mature voice that often employed Latin terms. She seemed very calm and poised, using her hands very expressively, as if explaining what she was saying to someone unseen with great confidence, as if showing off.

‘I worked hard to come to the best conclusions as to exactly how I should realize my theories. I thought that my optimum choice was the Common Inkcap, Coprinus atramentarius, as if it is eaten in isolation it can have no ill effect, however if alcohol is consumed, a reaction will set in, even if it is taken many hours after a meal. Testing it out on my father, along with the hallucinogenic mushrooms, made the decision for me very simple, however the academic science laboratory was not available. Ergo I was thus forced to grow, and cross-fertilize, the fungi in the garden and basement. I have conducted considerable research into the Death Cap mushroom and was fully aware this would cause severe liver damage. I also had to think of alternative measures, as it was imperative I was not implicated, the reasons being obvious. It had to be very cleverly administered, so I could remain undetected and ostensibly innocent, therefore I chose the slow release method as the most suitable for my desired intentions.’

Lena was sitting up with her back straight, and it seemed as if she was giving some kind of lecture. She began detailing in the same cultured voice the gastric poisons she had studied and tested in a laboratory while working in America. She was very clear about nerve poisons, especially the type that would create hallucinogenic behaviour, resulting in convulsions, irregular breathing, and often death due to heart failure. There were two types of toxins, muscarine and ibotenic acid, she found to be excellent. Her hands gesticulated gracefully as she described testing out the components to make the final decision of which exact combination she would administer.

‘When you had decided this, exactly how did you go about administering it to the chosen enemies?’ Cornwall asked in a relaxed manner.

In the viewing room Reid sat on the edge of his seat, listening and watching as Lena gave a long sigh, pursed her lips and wafted her hand in a dismissive gesture.

‘Oh it wasn’t easy, you know. My problem with Simon Boatly was how and when to get into his house at Henley to administer it. When Marcus said he had to move out from the Green Street flat and asked me to get his clothes it created the perfect opportunity, as I thought, wrongly as it turned out, that Simon was moving back in. When I went to collect the suitcases for Marcus I already knew there was an expensive brandy there from my other secret visits. I knew Simon liked expensive brandy so I decided to inject a few drops into it using a large hypodermic needle. A stroke of genius, don’t you think? Tinged with a bit of good and bad luck though.’

‘What do you mean?’ Cornwall asked softly.

Even her soft laugh was cultured. ‘That poor young man Grant I met at the flat. He had no idea he was taking poisoned brandy back to Henley.’ She spread out her hands as if seeking words of approval from Cornwall.

‘But Grant could have died, and Marcus died because he drank the brandy.’

‘Then Grant would have been my mistake, but my plan worked because Simon did die. As for Marcus, well that was bad luck for him at the time, but looking back he deserved it as it was obvious he was abusing her.’

‘Do you believe that Marcus had something to do with Amy’s disappearance?’

Her face twisted in anger. ‘I refuse to discuss it because it is too painful for me to even consider. The Furies came to me in continued nightmares and made me what I am.’

‘Who are the Furies?’ Cornwall asked.

‘The three avenging goddesses of Greek mythology – they torment me because I have subverted the natural order. I killed my parents, and the punishment inflicted on me by the snake-draped Furies is the madness that constantly persecutes and controls me.’

It was difficult to know exactly what alter was controlling Lena now, as in agitation she twisted her fingers round a strand of her hair and pulled at it sharply.

‘Am I talking to Lena?’

‘Who the fuck do you think you are talking to? Jesus Christ, you are so stupid, I have explained to you exactly what she did, how much more do you want me to tell you. The Furies are punishing her but not me, they can’t frighten me.’

It was the Boss character again and Cornwall asked if she had also intended harming Agnes and Harry, but before he could finish she dragged at her hair so roughly she pulled out several strands and held them between her fingers.

‘Agnes was supposed to eat the bloody bolognese. I’d cooked it the night before the first press conference and I’m surprised the neurotic bitch never complained about the mess of dirty pots and pans in the kitchen.’

‘Why didn’t she eat it?’

‘I put it in the freezer to give her later, but it had no sticky label describing what it was so she took it out and nearly gave it to Lena. But I was smart, see, I knew, so I told Lena to leave a note that Agnes can have it. Stupid bitch then gave it to that halfwit Harry.’