Brian Freemantle - A Mind to Kill

‘Her husband was having an affair,’ reminded Hall. ‘Could she have gone temporarily insane at discovering it?’

‘There’s no insanity as temporary as that. You’re talking of enormous, hostile rage.’

‘But she would have known what she was doing, no matter how enraged?’

‘In my opinion, yes. You’ll probably find others who disagree, if that’s the way you want to go.’

‘I want to defend her, to the best of my ability.’

‘That’s refreshing,’ said Mason, in what could have been the first reference to Hall’s inexperience.

‘Let’s hope I can do it.’

‘I’m sure Mrs Lomax hopes the same.’

They rose at the announcement of Humphrey Perry’s arrival with the car. Perry and Mason greeted each other with the familiarity of long association and Hall remained silent for most of the journey while the other two men brought each other up to date with personal happenings. Mason, it emerged, was a bachelor but Perry had six children, all boys but none in law. Both the youngest two had dropped out of university, one ironically from Essex. Mason said he didn’t know the boy but that Perry wasn’t to worry unduly: a lot of kids rebelled at the educational grind at university level and most returned after a year out.

From the greeting Mason also appeared to know the neurologist waiting for them at the hospital. George Fosdyke was a fussy, quick-speaking man with a wet handshake who made a specific point of quoting a psychology as well as a medical degree when he was introduced to Hall. The man’s stiff white coat glistened from starch and his baldness was practically identical to that of Humphrey Perry, who stood slightly apart during the initial meeting. Hall thought the solicitor and the neurologist looked as if they had come off the same assembly line.

‘How is she?’ he asked Lloyd.

‘Had quite a trauma this morning,’ said the doctor. ‘She became very distressed at what she described as a terrible noise she thought was going to make her head burst. But no collapse, like yesterday. Heart and blood pressure are quite normal.’

‘All the other tests done?’ interrupted Fosdyke.

‘I did the spinal tap myself.’

As they walked towards the elevators Mason said, ‘Is she mobile?’

‘She hasn’t been, so far,’ said Lloyd. ‘But she’s not on any intravenous treatment any longer and she’s off the heart monitor, so there’s no reason why she couldn’t be.’

‘You’re going to do a brain scan?’ Mason asked the neurologist, expectantly.

‘Of course,’ said Fosdyke.

‘You any objection to her walking to the scanner?’

‘Good idea,’ agreed Fosdyke.

It was Fosdyke who slowed first, bringing the group to a halt at the sight of Bentley and Rodgers outside the guarded ward: the woman police sergeant was with them. Lloyd said, ‘I didn’t know they were here. I gave no permission to resume the interview.’

Hall eased his way through the group to confront the detectives. ‘This is a medical and psychiatric examination.’

‘So she’s well enough to be interviewed.’

‘Not by you. My client declines to talk to you.’

‘This is obstruction.’ Bentley felt his temper slipping and made a conscious effort to stop it happening.

‘It’s her right. And my advice…’ It needed Hall’s professional control to avoid his annoyance at Bentley’s presence becoming obvious and abruptly he determined to end the interference. Careless of the effect he knew it would have upon the other man he said, ‘We’d appreciate no more irritations like this. There will be no further police interviews with my client…’ He indicated the uncertain policewoman who had obviously warned Bentley of the examination from overhearing the arrangements being made. ‘… Nor will I accept the introduction in any later court hearing of anything my client says or does…’

Bentley moved to speak but Hall refused the objection, anticipating it. ‘… Your initial caution does not extend to remarks or actions overheard by police escorts, which you well know. Or should know. If you didn’t, you’ve been officially told now. I want your policewomen outside my client’s ward from this moment. If you ignore what I have just said… any of it… I shall complain through a judge in chambers to your Commander. Is there anything about which I’ve left you unsure, Superintendent Bentley?’

It was possible to gauge the detective’s heartbeat from the throbbing of the protruding vein in his red-mottled forehead and for several moments the man was beyond speech. At last he managed, ‘I will report this to my superiors.’

Hall didn’t have to force the smile at the ludicrously ineffective response. ‘I’d strongly urge you to do that.’ He gestured through the window to the constable still inside the room. ‘Please call her out.’

Rodgers did so, at a nod from the senior detective. As she emerged Hall said, ‘Please make it clear they are to remain outside from now on.’

Rodgers did that, too. As Bentley stumped off down the corridor, trailed by his inspector, Julian Mason said, ‘What was that all about?’

‘An over-inflated sense of importance,’ said Hall, hoping Bentley was still close enough to hear.

Inside the ward Jane said, ‘ Look, they’re here. Let’s really see how stupid we can make you, shall we? ’

Jennifer tried to clench the sheet on either side of her, wanting something physically to hold on to, but totally against her will her fingers wouldn’t grip, splaying out helplessly instead.

‘ It’s no good, Jennifer. No good at all. ’

It wasn’t. As the group entered her arms flapped up and down, in unison again but slapping harder against the bed, and Jane said, ‘ Now you’re not a puppet, you’re a penguin. Tell them you’re a penguin.’

Jennifer bit her lips between her teeth to prevent the words, holding her breath, but she couldn’t stop a meaningless sound growling in her throat.

‘What’s the voice tell you to say?’ asked Mason, conversationally. ‘Let’s hear it.’

Jennifer’s breath came out in a rush. ‘That I’m a penguin. Oh dear God, this is ridiculous!’

‘I’m the one who’s got to decide if it’s ridiculous or not. That’s why I’m here.’ Mason pulled up the chairs abandoned by the police sergeant. Fosdyke took the other. Both ignored the lawyers, who pulled back against the wall furthest from the bed. Peter Lloyd remained at the foot of the bed. Hall was conscious of the two policewomen side by side looking through the window from the corridor.

‘You’re the psychiatrist,’ smiled Jennifer. ‘God, am I glad to see you! What’s your name?’

Mason told her and introduced Fosdyke as well. Jennifer extended her hand, but as Mason went to accept the gesture her hand began rotating, as if challenging him to catch it. Mason laughed, although not nervously. So did the neurologist. He didn’t sound nervous either.

‘It’s not funny!’ protested Jennifer.

‘You could laugh at her.’

‘ No, you fucking well can’t! ’

‘Does it hurt, in your head, when you hear the voice?’ demanded Fosdyke.

‘Only when she screams. She did that this morning.’

‘Why?’

‘I said I could resist her.’

‘Can you?’ came in Mason.

‘Sometimes.’

‘How?’

‘She’ll know, if I tell you.’

‘Don’t tell me then,’ agreed Mason.

‘ Tell him! ’

‘No!’

‘What’s she saying?’ prompted the psychiatrist.

‘She wants me to tell you how I do it.’

‘Don’t. Let’s resist her.’

The screaming started, not as loud as before but still agonizing. Jennifer said, ‘Oh no,’ and felt herself begin to shake. She tried to get her hands up to her ears but couldn’t move her arms. It stopped more quickly than before and she hadn’t wet herself.