Mo Hayder - Poppet

Isaac knows AJ’s voice. He lifts his hand in acknowledgement. Linda moves the microphone slightly away from AJ.

‘Melanie – what was that you were saying about this being straightforward?’

‘That’s right.’ She glances at Isaac. ‘Yes,’ she says slowly, deliberately. ‘All I have to do is admit my “crimes”.’

‘Your crimes?’

‘Namely the following. That I …’ She pauses and swallows – as if the words are difficult to get out. ‘That I tortured my, uh, my patients. That I inflicted harm on them, which I later explained away as self-harm. That I …’ She sends a wavering glance in Isaac’s direction, as if seeking a prompt on the rest of a script. ‘That I, er—’

‘Hurt them,’ he says dully. ‘You hurt them.’

‘That’s right. I hurt them.’

‘You put ideas in their heads.’

‘I put ideas in their heads. And ultimately, unlikely though it sounds, in two cases, ultimately I …’ She gives another painful swallow. Then finishes in a hurry: ‘I drove them to their deaths.’

‘And that’s what you want to tell us?’

‘Yes. It is.’ She gestures to where Isaac is rummaging through the holdall. ‘That’s what I wore when I did it, so I wasn’t recognized.’

Isaac straightens and produces a Perspex mask. It’s a radiation mask – AJ recognizes it instantly. Some of the people at Mum’s neurology clinic used to wear them. He thinks of the picture Zelda drew, and of what he saw in Melanie’s back garden. That smooth, eerie, skittle head.

There is a long silence. Linda clicks off the mic and uses her heels to wheel her chair back so she is nearer the senior negotiator. ‘Into surrender plan?’

‘Yup – hold for one – I’ll clear that.’

He turns to the staffroom and hisses to the commander. ‘We can start on a surrender plan, it’s looking good.’

The sergeant with the sweet face turns to leave the room, speaking into her radio as she goes. There’s a palpable notching down of tension in the security pod. Linda and the senior negotiator go into a huddle and on screen the men in riot gear begin to move away from the seclusion room. On the second camera, Isaac is working at removing the screws and the iron rods he has used to barricade the door. AJ stares at Melanie on screen. He stares at the radiation mask.

In the room there may be a release of tension but there’s something else too: a kind of disappointment that it’s all come and gone so easily – that Isaac isn’t the deranged man they’d prepared for but a schizophrenic effortlessly defused by Melanie’s ‘confession’. No heroics and no door battering and no hostage situations. Just another wacko.

Only AJ isn’t happy.

‘Sir?’

Everyone in the staffroom stops what they are doing and turns to AJ. He holds the commander with his eyes. ‘Can I speak to him before he comes out?’

The commander cocks his head on one side. ‘The situation is winding down. We’re into a surrender plan, I think we know what we’re dealing with now.’

‘Do we? Are you sure he won’t try something when that door opens?’

‘The team are trained.’

‘And I’m trained too. I’m trained really well with this one patient in particular. He’s bluffing – I know him. I’ve been in this position with him before and I’ve known things go seriously wrong at this point.’

The commander thinks about it. Then he nods at the senior negotiator. ‘Let him have a go.’

‘Thanks.’ AJ checks his phone in its belt holster. He’s waiting for Caffery to call back. He’s sent six texts and left three voice messages, updating him as the situation has unfolded – so far, no reply. He tucks the phone away and goes to the desk. Linda is frowning at him – not happy at all, but eventually she gets up and bad-naturedly pushes the chair towards him.

‘Don’t you cock this up for me now …’ she whispers. ‘Please don’t.’

He nods. Sits and switches on the mic. ‘Isaac?’ he says. ‘Isaac – it’s me.’

On screen Isaac stops what he’s doing. He tips his head back and stares up at the camera.

‘AJ?’

‘Yes. It’s AJ. Isaac – I’ve got a question for you. Did you stand outside Ms Arrow’s window four nights ago?’

Isaac’s eyes are wandering, the way they often do when he’s stressed – the way a blind person’s eyes will wander, unable to hold any sort of contact. It gives the impression Isaac is answering someone he perceives behind his own eyes. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I did.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Um.’ He closes his eyes and opens them. ‘Because she had to be frightened like they were.’

‘Like who was?’

‘Like with Pauline and Zelda and Moses when she sat on their chests. I wanted her to be frightened too like they were.’

Linda clears her throat. When he turns she’s hurriedly scribbled on a notepad the words: Don’t challenge. Go along with it. Collude with him is fine. Objective = get the hostage out .

AJ nods. Then he clicks the microphone on again. This time he allows his hand to rest protectively over the button so Linda can’t switch it off. ‘Isaac?’

‘Yes, what?’

‘ Did you poison my fucking dog? ’

Linda draws in a sharp breath. She stands next to him, staring meaningfully at him.

‘Answer me, Isaac,’ AJ says hurriedly. ‘Why did you poison my dog?’

Isaac moves his head from side to side, as if he’s hearing something so surreal and inexplicable it’s almost beyond wonder. ‘Poison?’ he murmurs. ‘I don’t think I did that, AJ. I wouldn’t do that. I like dogs, I do.’

EVENTUALLY JONATHAN CALMS himself. He takes sips of air, like water, swallowing over and over. Then, when the shaking has stopped, he drags his T-shirt up from the waist and wipes his face.

‘OK?’ Caffery asks.

He nods. He licks his lips. ‘I didn’t know about Zelda. If I’d known it was going to happen again I’d have – I’d have done something.’

‘I’m sure you would. Let’s go back to you arriving at Beechway. When did you first mention what happened in Rotherham to Isaac Handel. Was it when you—’

Jonathan shoots Caffery a quick look. ‘Isaac Handel?’

‘Yes. Tell me how you got talking. You worked with him on his dolls in art therapy – the poppets. You helped him with them.’

Jonathan frowns. His eyes leap all over Caffery’s face as if he’s trying to work out where this is going – what his strategy is going to be. ‘Yes, I did. Handel’s dolls were … his outlet.’

‘You must have let him use tools?’

‘Yes, and I supervised him constantly. Took the equipment away after every session. Followed the rule book.’

‘You know Isaac thought he could control people with the dolls. You are aware of that, aren’t you?’

‘I’m aware he believed that. What’s this got to do with anything?’

‘And you never had any professional reservations about what he was doing? Dolls with their eyes sewn closed?’

‘Reservations? Not really – I thought it was odd, him depicting death like that. But no more than some of the things that go on in places like Beechway.’

Caffery pulls out his phone and scrolls through the images of the dolls. Finds the one of Pauline in the pink satin and holds it out. Keay shifts himself forward and looks at it. He nods. ‘Yes – that’s Pauline. This pink satin – that was his way of making her comfortable.’

‘Making her comfortable? By killing her?’

‘ What? ’ Jonathan blinks. ‘ Isaac? ’

‘This doll he made – her eyes are stitched closed, same with the dolls of his parents. Showing what he wanted to happen to Pauline – what he intended doing.’