Chris Carter - The Caller

Dr. Barnes saw the look in Webb’s face and explained. ‘This bracelet was given to me by my mother on my thirteenth birthday. We were a very poor family, living in a rough and neglected neighborhood. My father left us when I was five, and we never saw him again after that. My mother had to work two jobs to keep us going, and she saved every penny she could for God knows how long, just so she’d be able to afford something like this.’ All of a sudden, the doctor’s voice saddened. ‘She passed away just months after that.’

Only then Webb noticed the tiny inscription on the heart charm. Three words — one above the other — Always. Be. Strong.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Webb offered in a sincere tone.

The doctor acknowledged his words with a head gesture before continuing. ‘Since my thirteenth birthday, I’ve worn it every day without fail. I never forget to. I’ve never lost it. It’s always with me. The only time I take it off, is when I go to sleep.’

Webb looked intrigued.

‘I can’t sleep with any sort of jewelry on me,’ she clarified. ‘No bracelets, no necklaces, no rings, nothing. For some reason it freaks the hell out of me if I do. It gives me nightmares.’

Webb found that interesting because he had a friend who also couldn’t sleep with any jewelry on her. She had to take it all off before going to bed, including her wedding ring.

‘Last night,’ Dr. Barnes carried on with her story, ‘I got home, took off my bracelet, my rings, and my necklace, and left them on my bedside table, just like I do every night. When I woke up this morning, everything was still there, except the bracelet. The bracelet was gone.’

Webb was about to say something, but Dr. Barnes got there before him.

‘Yes,’ she said.

He frowned at her.

‘Yes. Yes. No. And yes.’

‘I’m sorry?

‘I know what you’re going to ask me, Detective. You’re first going to ask me if I’m absolutely sure that I had the bracelet with me when I got home. The answer to that question is — yes. Then you’re going to ask me if I’m absolutely sure that I took it off in my bedroom and left it on my bedside table, like I said I did. The answer to that question is also — yes. Then you’re going to ask me if there isn’t a chance that maybe the bracelet had come undone somewhere and fallen off my wrist, like maybe in the parking lot where I work, or just outside my house, or even by the newsstand, where I pick up my paper every morning.’

Webb’s impressed face was certainly more pleasant than his unimpressed one, but not by much. And he was impressed. So far, Dr. Barnes had hit every nail on the head.

He nodded at her as he added, ‘That was exactly what I was thinking, Doctor.’ He admitted it. ‘If the bracelet dropped from your wrist at the newsstand, someone could’ve seen it and, instead of doing the right thing, which would be handing it back to you, decided to turn the whole thing into a practical joke.’ He tapped the note twice with his gloved index finger. ‘That would certainly explain this.’

‘It would,’ the doctor agreed. ‘But the answer to that question is “no”. There’s no chance that my bracelet fell from my wrist at the newsstand the morning before last, or anywhere else for that matter.’

Once again, Webb was about to ask Dr. Barnes a new question, when she lifted her hand, interrupting him.

‘How can I be so sure?’ she said.

Back came the impressed look. Webb decided that it was pointless trying to butt in, so he sat back on his chair and allowed her to continue in her own pace.

‘Because there’s no way I can go a whole day without this bracelet and not notice it, Detective. Every time I get nervous, or every time I’m thinking, pondering something, I twiddle with it.’ Her right hand automatically moved to her left wrist. ‘It’s an unconscious movement. I’ve been doing it for years, and on any given day I repeat the movement tens of times. I wouldn’t have gone half an hour without noticing that my bracelet was gone.’

Webb had noticed the movement at least a couple of times in the past few minutes and it hadn’t surprised him. Everybody he knew had a nervous tic. His was running his tongue against his top lip.

‘And last night,’ Dr. Barnes carried on, ‘as I was driving home, I specifically remember twiddling with it in the car, which brings us to my last “yes”. Yes, Detective Webb, I’m certain that the bracelet didn’t fall off my wrist inside my car. I had it on me when I got home last night. I had it on me when I went to bed, and I had it on my bedside table when I turned off the lights. I am one hundred percent sure of it. This morning, when I woke up, it wasn’t there.’

After over twenty years as a policeman, Webb had acquired a knack for summing people up at a glance, even better after spending a few minutes with them. Dr. Gwen Barnes appeared to be a very stable, intelligent, and grounded woman. She never raised her voice, regardless of mood. She was eloquent and, so far, all her arguments seemed to be based on very plausible and possible facts.

‘Not finding the bracelet this morning drove me insane,’ she added. ‘I looked for it everywhere, and I mean everywhere, Detective — under the bed, behind the bedside table, in the drawers, under rugs, in the living room, in the kitchen... you name it. Even in my car. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. I wracked my brain retracing my steps from last night, from the time I got home, to the time I went to bed, because I knew I had it on me when I opened my front door last night.’

Dr. Barnes paused for breath. Right about then, she could really do with a very large glass of wine.

‘And this morning was the first ever time that I was late for my first session of the day. I’m a psychiatrist, Detective Webb, I understand how the human brain works better than most. I’m fully aware that because night after night I go through the exact same motions just before turning off my bedroom light, i.e. placing all my jewelry on my bedside table, it’s very easy for my brain to be tricked into thinking that I did something, when in fact I didn’t. Repetitive actions can have that sort of effect on your brain, but I’m telling you, that’s not the case here.’

Webb ran his tongue against his top lip. ‘So you really do think that someone broke into your house last night, walked into your room while you were asleep, took away your bracelet, already with the intention of doing this.’ He jerked his chin in the direction of the note and the bracelet on the table. ‘And maybe even smelled your hair.’

‘I do, Detective, because I can’t see any other explanation.’

‘Did you notice any signs of a break-in?’ Webb asked.

Dr. Barnes let go of a breath so heavy with frustration, the air inside the interrogation room seemed to thicken.

‘I can’t be sure because I didn’t really check for any. I woke up this morning, I couldn’t find my bracelet, obviously my first thought wasn’t that someone had broken into my house.’

‘Your first thought was that maybe you had lost it,’ Webb pushed.

‘Yes,’ Dr. Barnes admitted in defeat.

Even Detective Webb had to take a deep breath. ‘OK,’ he tried again. He really did want to help her. ‘Before leaving the house this morning, can you remember if you found your door locked or unlocked?’

‘The front door was locked.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I’m sure. I remember unlocking it this morning. I didn’t check the back door, but it’s always locked.’

Webb was unsure of what else to say. Instead, it was Dr. Barnes who spoke again. Her next few words came out slowly and flooded with emotion.

‘Detective, I don’t really know what else I can tell you, but I know that I did not lose my bracelet.’