Brian Freemantle - A Mind to Kill

‘ You won’t, not again. ’

‘We’ll see.’ Jennifer was euphoric, wanting to laugh.

‘ Laugh then.’

Jennifer tightened her mouth again. ‘Another mistake. Warned me against it.’ Jennifer tried but couldn’t stop the moan at the screech of anger that pounded agonizingly through her head. ‘Beat you,’ she managed. ‘Beat you again.’

‘ You can’t drug me out. They can’t drug me out. ’

‘Why are you so frightened then? So angry?’

There was another echoing scream, as loud as before.

‘So angry, Jane? Lost control, haven’t you? Lost control to me.’ She wasn’t going to laugh aloud but she was still buoyant at the excitement of fighting back.

‘ Not going to do you any good though, is it? Still won’t be able to convince anyone you’re not mad. Still the rest of your life in a mental asylum ’

Jennifer shook her head. ‘I’ll find a way, like I found this way.’

Jennifer brought her head up at the arrival of two new policewomen for the night-shift change-over.

‘Anything?’ asked the newly-arriving sergeant, ignoring Jennifer.

The departing sergeant said, ‘Spent all afternoon mumbling to herself. Totally off her head.’

‘ Listen to them! ’

‘I’m not off my head!’ shouted Jennifer.

None of the women bothered to look at her.

‘ Jennifer Stone’s

A stupid drone

So much off her head

Might as well be dead. ’

‘Shitty poetry,’ dismissed Jennifer.

‘ I thought it was funny. ’

Jennifer went to speak but quickly stopped, halted by the entry of the nurse who’d changed the saline drip. Now she carried a kidney bowl covered by a cloth.

‘ I’ll over-ride it! ’

‘The doctor says it’s OK. That you need to get some sleep.’

‘ Waste of time! ’

‘Please,’ said Jennifer, offering her free arm, sighing at the prick of the needle going into her arm. ‘Thank you. Thank you so very much.’

Jennifer never fully lost consciousness. It was like the sort of half-asleep awareness she’d sometimes had when she knew she was dreaming and stayed like a spectator, refusing properly to wake up. Except this wasn’t a dream but the distant, frenzied voice of Jane trying to get through the sedation, becoming even more hysterical when Jennifer refused, as she’d refused with the real dreams.

It was still early, although daylight, when she did surrender. But Jane wasn’t inside her head. Jennifer remained lying as she was, waiting but there was nothing and hurriedly Jennifer began thinking of the day ahead, seizing the respite. Humphrey Perry hadn’t given a time but she expected him to come that morning. With the barrister, he’d said. Jeremy Hall. Nice enough name. But not a QC. It probably wasn’t etiquette to make the protest direct to the man but she would. Bypass Perry completely and if he didn’t like it engage another solicitor. She couldn’t be bothered with niceties as desperate as she was. She’d still do her best not to offend Hall, of course. Make it clear she wanted to retain him as well but insist her defence be headed by the most experienced person. Proudfoot himself, in fact.

She hoped Perry would have already contacted Rebecca. Would they let Rebecca come personally, here to the hospital? No reason why they shouldn’t. It would be better if she could talk to Rebecca direct, rather than relay messages through Perry. She needed to talk to someone besides police and lawyers: needed a friend. Her only friend. She had to make a list, in her head, of the clothes she wanted brought in. Suits, she supposed, for the court appearances when she was discharged from here and from the hospital wing of whatever prison she was sent to. And for the psychiatrists’ meetings. Important she talk to Perry about that today: get things set up immediately. To be declared sane – not totally off her head – and stop being regarded by everyone like the bearded woman in a sideshow. Except, she supposed, that when everybody at last believed her she’d be considered even more of an oddity.

A lot to think about: think about and get under way. End the whole terrible nightmare. It was good, being able to think like this. Think clearly, logically, as she’d always been able to think: to have her mind back. When would it start again, the chanting and the mockery? A distracting question: not important. What was important was getting everything she had to do established in her head. Not to forget anything. Good to feel better. And she did feel better. Not fully rested, because she hadn’t rested fully. But enough. Sufficient to be able to work things out as she was working them out now. She wasn’t shaking, either. Her hands and arms were throbbing from the cuts but not badly. Wouldn’t need painkillers. Just another sedative, that night. Knew how to get it now. How to beat Jane.

The numbness warned her. ‘ No you don’t. ’

‘I had a wonderful night’s sleep.’

‘ You heard me. ’

‘Not a sound.’

‘ Liar. ’

‘She’s awake. At it again.’

Jennifer shuffled herself upright at the policewoman’s voice. The day-shift sergeant was at the door, looking enquiringly at the yawning pair getting up stiffly from the easy chairs in which they had spent the night. The new arrivals positioned themselves with their backs to Jennifer, so that she didn’t hear the muffled exchanges, but she was conscious of the looks from all of them. For the first time they didn’t appear patronizing. One smiled and nodded at something one of the others said.

‘What?’ demanded Jennifer.

‘Superintendent Bentley is coming to see you this morning,’ announced the day sergeant.

‘What about?’

Instead of replying the woman said, ‘How is the voice?’

‘Jane’s started.’

‘Sure,’ said the sergeant and smiled sideways at the other newly-arrived policewoman, who smiled back.

‘What is it?’ insisted Jennifer, exasperated.

‘You’ll have to wait for the superintendent.’

‘ I’m as curious as you are! ’

‘Stop it!’

The policewoman remained smiling. The sergeant said, ‘That damned voice again?’

‘You know it is!’

‘Do I?’

‘ They’re taking the piss out of you. Jennifer.’

Jennifer fought back a response, grateful for the entry of the nurse with washing water and the repeated announcement that the police were coming to see her. ‘And your lawyer. He asked me to tell you.’

When she began her make-up Jennifer realized her hands were shaking again, although not as badly as the previous morning. Today there were no smudged lines and the swelling on her lip had gone down enough to complete the colouring. She managed her hair more successfully than the previous day, too. Her eyes were still ringed, although not as darkly as before. She was glad there was no sensation to warn her of Jane, easily able without interruption to call to mind everything she wanted to tell Humphrey Perry.

She actually smiled when the shiny domed solicitor came into the ward, ahead of another man who politely held the door for the policewomen to leave. Perry remained expressionless introducing Jeremy Hall, who did smile back although very briefly.

‘The police are coming to see me,’ announced Jennifer, at once.

‘We know,’ said Perry. ‘That’s why we’re here. To talk to you first.’

‘There are things I want to sort out with you-’ Jennifer began, but Perry cut across her.

‘… We want to establish something at once, Mrs Lomax.’

‘ They don’t give a fuck about what you want ’ Jennifer’s skin began to burn.

‘I want, in fact, to hear your story,’ said Hall.

The voice was very deep, more resonant than the solicitor’s – an actor’s voice, almost – and it was not until she concentrated fully upon the man that Jennifer realized how big he was, broad as well as tall. She decided, surprised, that he reminded her of Gerald. Younger maybe, but only by a few years. Same blue eyes and the direct, talking-only-to-you concentration. She could even find a similarity in the voice, although Gerald’s hadn’t been so deep. It registered mostly with her in the self-assured, unhurried way in which Hall actually spoke, a person confident of his own ability. Unlike everyone else he wasn’t frightened of her, expecting her without warning to do something violent. Not that he would have had any cause to worry, as obviously fit as he was. A sportsman, she guessed. What sport? An active, energetic one to have a build like that. Rugby maybe.