Chameleon's Shadow

Five

WILLIS FOUND THE HOSPITAL’S head of security, Gareth Blades, waiting in the corridor outside his office. The man, a burly ex-policeman, took him by the arm and led him away from the door. ‘Ms Morley’s inside with your secretary. I thought I’d catch you before you went in. What’s been going on between these two, Bob?’

‘It seems to be a case of who you want to believe. Has Ms Morley changed her mind about reporting it to the police?’

‘No. She’s worried about making things worse for the lieutenant . . . Says she’ll retract what she’s already told us if we take it any further.’ He gave a sour smile. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt he attacked her. She’s holding herself together at the moment, but she was shaking like a leaf at the beginning.’

‘Does she have any bruising?’

‘Not that I can see. I asked her to let a nurse check her neck for marks, but Ms Morley refused. She’s wearing a buttoned-up collar and there’s nothing visible above it. I’m betting there’s plenty underneath, though. She’s very slender . . . It wouldn’t take much to bruise her.’

‘What about her hands and wrists? The lieutenant said he caught them to stop her touching him.’

‘I didn’t notice anything, but she’s wearing long sleeves. Maybe you could take a look when you go back in.’

‘If she doesn’t want to report him, we can’t force her, Gareth.’

‘I know, but I’m not happy about it. There’s other people’s safety to consider.’

‘He’s going to London tomorrow for a couple of weeks. Does that solve your problem?’

‘Not if he’s coming back. The nurse who brought Ms Morley’s bag said Acland had a go at his mother shortly after he arrived here. Is that true?’

‘It was a different scenario. He was in a lot of pain and she wouldn’t stop fussing over him. He grabbed her hand to stop her stroking his hair.’

‘The same nurse said he’s been rude to most of the staff. He sounds like a ticking time bomb, this fellow. Did he explain why he assaulted Ms Morley?’

‘He asked her to leave several times and she wouldn’t go. She also ignored his warnings about standing too close. It became a physical confrontation when she tried to touch his face.’

‘Why didn’t he press his bell?’

Willis shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t have been able to reach it if Ms Morley was between him and the bed . . . not without revealing the injured side of his face.’ He fell silent for a moment. ‘He’s very conscious of his scars. As I understand it, she started screaming when she finally got a view of them. That may have caused him to react the way he did.’

‘He should have backed off.’

‘As should she,’ Willis pointed out mildly. ‘It takes two to tango, Gareth. She’s the one who came looking for him, don’t forget . . . not the other way round. The lieutenant’s done all he can to distance himself from her.’ He paused. ‘Has she said why she came?’

‘As a friend. They were engaged, apparently, and she wanted him to know she was still there for him even though the relationship hadn’t worked out.’ He gave another sour smile. ‘It looks as though she’s well out of it. The male nurse who rescued her said Lieutenant Acland had his hand round her throat and was bearing down like a man possessed. Do you know if he’s been violent towards her before?’

‘Have you asked her?’

‘Won’t say . . . but she’s obviously wary of him. Have you any objections if I talk to him myself? Is he mentally fit to be interviewed?’

Willis nodded. ‘You won’t get many answers. I suspect he’ll allow you to believe Ms Morley’s version of events. He seems to have no interest at all in correcting people’s bad opinion of him.’

‘Why not?’

‘I wish I knew,’ said Willis honestly. ‘At the moment I don’t know whether I’m dealing with post-traumatic guilt over the death of two troopers... or something far deeper.’

‘Like what?’

‘The prolonged destruction of a personality.’

*

In the flesh, Jen Morley looked less like Uma Thurman than in her website photograph, but there was no denying the similarity. She had the same wide-set eyes in an oval face and the same look of childish innocence. She greeted Dr Willis with charm and composure, rising gracefully from her seat and placing her slender hand in his. ‘I’m so sorry to be a nuisance, Doctor, but everyone’s been incredibly kind –’ she flashed a smile at his secretary – ‘particularly Ruth.’ He glanced at her wrist as he released her hand, but it was covered by a cuff. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, gesturing for her to sit down again and moving round the desk to his own seat. ‘You’re certainly looking better.’ ‘A little shocked still,’ she confided, turning sideways on her chair and crossing her ankles neatly beneath her. ‘But what about Charlie? I’m more worried about him. Is he all right? I feel awful about what happened.’ Willis made a conscious effort to view her through neutral eyes, but his first impression was that she reminded him of Charles’s mother. Different hair colouring and a very different kind of beauty, but she had the same instinct to display herself to good advantage, in the elegant way she sat and in what she said. Mrs Acland had invariably started with a question about Charles’s welfare, only to steer the conversation towards herself, and Willis wondered if Jen would do the same.

He nodded to his secretary, who was signalling a desire to leave. He watched her say goodbye to Jen, then pause in the doorway to send him a telephone sign with her thumb and little finger against the side of her face. ‘One thing before you go,’ he called after her. ‘I’m expecting a call from Henry Watson in the next few minutes. You can ask anyone else to call back later, but I need you to put Henry through. Do you mind telling him to keep it brief?’

‘No problem,’ said Ruth, closing the door behind her.

Willis took off his glasses and polished them vigorously on his handkerchief, peering short-sightedly across his desk. The intended effect was to diminish him, take away his authority, and he saw the tension ease from Jen’s shoulders. ‘Charles is also a little shocked, Ms Morley, but with less reason perhaps. I gather he wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I wrote to tell him I was coming.’

Willis allowed the lie to go. Charles had solemnly handed every new communication to the psychiatrist and the last one had been two weeks previously. There had been no mention of a visit, merely a repeat of what she’d written in her earlier letters: I’ve missed you... Do you remember the time...? I’m lonely without you... None made any reference to what had caused the split, and Willis wondered if she seriously believed what she’d put in her email, that amnesia might have wiped the incident from Charles’s memory.

He chose to flatter her ego. ‘You and Charles must have made a handsome couple, Ms Morley. You’re a very beautiful woman . . . But I’m sure you’ve been told that a hundred times.’

She took the compliment in her stride. ‘Thank you . . . and, yes, we were a handsome couple. Charlie, too. Is that part of his problem? He wouldn’t turn round when I entered his room. Is he embarrassed by his face?’

Willis answered generally. ‘Most people find it difficult to come to terms with disfigurement. Other people’s reactions are often hurtful.’

‘I screamed,’ she admitted, ‘and I’m so annoyed with myself. I can’t believe I did anything so stupid.’

‘I’m sure he understands.’

‘Do you think so? The last thing I wanted to do was upset him . . . I just wanted to be friends again.’ She gazed rather wistfully at the psychiatrist. ‘I did it all wrong, didn’t I?’

‘It would have helped if you’d told me you were coming.’

‘I should have done,’ she agreed. ‘You did warn me he wasn’t interested.’ She gave a small sigh. ‘The trouble was, I didn’t believe you. Charlie gets silly ideas in his head when he thinks the world’s against him, but I can usually persuade him out of them.’

Willis nodded. ‘I’m sure that’s true. You’re very—’ He broke off to reach for the telephone. ‘Will you excuse me for just a moment? This shouldn’t take long.’ He placed the receiver against his ear. ‘Hello, Henry.’

Ruth’s voice spoke quietly at the other end. ‘Before you go gooey at the knees, she’s not as innocent as she looks. I think she went through your jacket earlier. I left her alone for a couple of minutes and she moved damn fast to get away from it when I came back.’

‘Don’t worry on that score. There’s nothing important there. Anything else?’

‘She was ratty as hell before her bag arrived, then she asked to go to the Ladies. When she came out again she was sweetness and light. Gareth fell for it . . . but I didn’t –’ Willis sensed her smile down the line – ‘probably because I’ve never been as pretty as that.’

Willis chuckled. ‘OK. Thanks, Henry. That’s very helpful.’ He replaced the handset and smiled absent-mindedly at Jen. ‘Where were we? Oh, yes . . . Charles.’ He eyed her with a puzzled expression. ‘He seems to think I told you to come, Ms Morley. Did he get that idea from you?’

She shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t have been true.’ She thought for a moment. ‘He’s quite jealous, Dr Willis. If he knows you and I have been writing to each other that might have made him suspicious.’

‘He does,’ Willis agreed. ‘I mentioned I’d written to you and that you’d replied.’

‘Did he ask what I’d said?’

‘Not that I recall.’ He smiled apologetically, as if it were his fault that his patient was so uninterested. ‘Was jealousy a problem in the relationship? You didn’t mention that in your email.’

‘You’d have thought me arrogant.’

‘Not at all,’ said Willis in surprise. ‘I can easily imagine you being the focus of a man’s jealousy. You must attract a great deal of attention every time you go out. Was that hard for Charles?’

‘Hasn’t he told you?’

Willis shook his head. ‘He’s been very reticent about everything. All I know is what you put in the email. I remember you mentioned a violent argument. Was that prompted by jealousy?’

Fleetingly, a look of wariness crossed her face, as if she feared that his unassuming manner and constant fussy cleaning of his glasses were a front.

‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,’ he assured her. ‘I’m not of the school of thought that says anything useful can be raked from dead ashes. Charles has told me he has no feelings for you any more and I’ve no reason to disbelieve him. He certainly didn’t want to see you today.’

She didn’t like that. ‘He wouldn’t have been so angry if he didn’t love me still.’ She fiddled with the clasp of her bag. ‘He was crazy about me. A friend of mine used to call him my personal guard dog . . . panting to lie in my lap one minute . . . and showing his teeth the next if anyone came too close.’

It wasn’t an analogy that sat easily with Willis. The Charles he knew was too self-contained to display his feelings so obviously. Nevertheless . . . ‘That suggests possessiveness. Is that how you’d describe him? As a controlling lover?’

‘Totally. I couldn’t breathe without Charlie’s permission. Another friend – the one who persuaded me to break off the engagement – said he had me locked in a cage like an exotic bird, and if I didn’t break out I’d have no freedom left.’

Willis took note of the mixed metaphors. There was a world of difference between a caged parakeet and a siren who handed titbits to a Rottweiler. Nevertheless . . . ‘Your friend was right,’ he agreed. ‘It sounds like an extremely unhealthy relationship.’

But Jen didn’t like that either. Perhaps she felt the criticism applied equally to her. ‘Not from Charlie’s point of view. He had everything he wanted. He turned up when it suited him . . . snapped his fingers when it suited him . . . and showed me off like a trophy when it suited him.’

‘So why didn’t he welcome you with open arms today? You said it was you who ended the engagement?’ He put an upward inflection at the end of the sentence.

‘That’s right.’

He smiled. ‘Men are very simple creatures, Ms Morley. Most of us hanker after an easy life and take a reprieve when it’s offered.’ He breathed on one of his lenses. ‘If you were everything Charles wanted, why didn’t he grasp your olive branch?’

There was a slight narrowing of the huge eyes, but whether in irritation or confusion the doctor couldn’t tell. ‘His pride won’t let him. He’s still very hurt.’

It was a reasonable answer and Willis acknowledged it with another thoughtful nod. ‘Even so, I’m not clear why you want to rekindle the ashes, Ms Morley. You implied the relationship was stifling.’

‘I miss him,’ she said simply. ‘I hoped the fact that he hadn’t told his parents about the split meant he felt the same.’ She produced a crumpled tissue from her sleeve and held it to her nose. ‘You can’t explain love, Dr Willis. It’s chemistry. It happens.’

‘Mm. I’d say that’s a better description of infatuation. Chemistry has a nasty habit of producing volatile mixtures that end in an explosion.’

She shrugged impatiently. ‘We were good together.’

‘In what way?’

‘Every way .. . in bed . .. talking . . . having fun . . . when we were out. It worked.’ She smiled slightly. ‘I asked him once if he ever thought about being with another woman and he said only Uma Thurman . . . but I think he was joking.’

‘I imagine a lot of men fantasize about Uma Thurman. Do you replicate the image to encourage them to transfer their fantasies to you?’

Another tiny shrug. ‘It’s not something I can help. God made me this way.’

Willis eyed her with amusement. ‘I don’t do God, Ms Morley. I’m of the existentialist view . . . that each individual chooses, and takes responsibility for, the path he or she follows in life.’ He replaced his spectacles on his nose, tucking the arms behind his ears. ‘And, with respect, I’m not convinced that a passing resemblance to a successful actress is a good enough reason to hitch a free ride on her reputation. Rightly or wrongly, it suggests to me that you lack the confidence to be yourself.’

She half-lowered her lids to hide her expression. ‘Is that something Charlie said?’

‘No. I was reflecting on your comments in your email about chameleons lacking confidence. It’s a description that seems to fit you rather better than it fits Charles.’

‘You don’t know him the way I do.’

Willis smiled. ‘I’d be a millionaire by now if I’d been given a pound every time someone said that.’ He clasped his hands in front of him. ‘He doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm for Uma Thurman.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘A couple of minutes ago you said he referred to her as a joke.’

‘Not her. Him being with her. He knows it’ll never happen.’ She touched the tissue to her eyes. ‘Me dressing up was the next best thing. Why do you think my friend described me as an exotic bird? I had to deck myself out like Irene Cassini in Gattaca – the Uma Thurman character Charlie most fancies . . . like this –’ she gestured towards her suit – ‘otherwise he couldn’t do it.’

‘What?’

‘Sex.’

Willis let the word hang in the air while he thought about the monkish young man upstairs who avoided all contact with female nurses. Was Jen telling the truth? It would explain a few things if she was, he reflected, not least Charles’s refusal to go anywhere near the subject of sex. ‘I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying he couldn’t achieve an erection without the Uma Thurman stimulus?’

She smiled unhappily. ‘Not at the beginning. It was just a game at the beginning.’

Willis made what he could of this. ‘And then the game took over. Charles preferred the fantasy woman to the real one. Is that what happened?’

‘It made him angry if I refused.’

Willis thought of the conversations he’d had with Charles about Jen’s resemblance to Uma Thurman. The lieutenant had certainly talked about a ‘fantasy’, but not in the kind of terms that suggested arousal. ‘Then I wonder why he didn’t respond more positively towards you today,’ he said slowly. ‘You seem to have done everything you could to evoke positive memories.’

‘He wouldn’t look at me. He stood by the window with his face turned away.’

‘Not all the time. He wouldn’t have been able to catch your hands otherwise.’

‘It was too late by then. He’d already lost his temper.’

‘With Jen Morley or Uma Thurman?’

‘What difference does it make?’

‘It seems quite crucial to me. If he lost his temper with Jen Morley why would he want to throttle Uma Thurman? You seem to have irritated him in both roles.’ He folded his hands under his chin. ‘Are you sure this isn’t your sexual fantasy, Ms Morley?’

Dampness welled in her eyes. ‘Why are you being cruel to me?’

Willis showed surprise again. ‘It was a fair question. I assumed you wouldn’t have come dressed like that if you hadn’t been looking for intimacy with Charles. It suggests the fantasy was a mutual one . . . in your mind anyway.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ she said with a sudden show of anger.

‘Then I’m mystified, Ms Morley. What was the point of today’s exercise? What were you trying to achieve?’

The question seemed to worry her because she checked the contents of her bag while she worked out an answer. ‘What you said before . . . I was trying to remind him of the good times. He liked the attention I got when we were out and people mistook me for Uma.’

Willis frowned. ‘I thought you said he was jealous. The parallel you used was a guard dog who snapped at anyone who came too close.’

She stared at him with growing irritation. ‘But it gave him a hell of a buzz at the same time. He loved the idea that other men envied him.’

‘I’m sure he did,’ he said easily. ‘It’s a common duality of emotion. Did you feel the same way? He was a good-looking man before his injury.’

‘Are you asking do I get jealous? Then, no, I’ve never needed to be,’ she said dismissively. ‘Men are more afraid of losing me than I am of losing them, Dr Willis. That may sound boastful, but it’s true.’

‘Not in the least. You’ve obviously had far more relationships than Charles.’

‘So?’

‘They don’t seem to last very long. Is it always you who ends them?’

‘It’s hardly going to be the man, is it?’

Willis smiled. ‘I don’t know, Ms Morley,’ he said honestly. ‘I’m having trouble understanding why Charles is so unwilling to mend fences if it was you who broke the engagement. In my experience, it’s the partner who doesn’t want the affair to end who tries to resurrect it . . . and the one who makes the decision to split who moves on.’

‘Charlie hasn’t moved on. He’d be taking visits and phone calls if he had.’

This time Willis’s nod was a genuine recognition that she was right. Whatever bonds had held these two together were still strong. Nevertheless . . . ‘He won’t talk about you . . . won’t read your letters . . . indeed, shows every determination to draw a line under the relationship. Why would he do that unless he’s made up his mind to confine you to history?’

He’d finally goaded her into showing her anger openly. ‘Because he’s ashamed,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘And if you want to know why . . . which you probably don’t, since you’re on his side . . . it’s because he raped me. And it wasn’t just any old rape. He pushed me against a wall and buggered me. I bet that little fact hasn’t come out in your cosy conversations with him.’

‘No,’ Willis agreed matter-of-factly, ‘but I guessed something of the sort from your email. You said he was violent towards you.’ He might have added that Charles’s demeanour, whenever the subject of Jen came up, also suggested shame.

‘He behaved like a brute,’ she said with a pronounced shudder. ‘I’ve never been so frightened.’

‘I’m not surprised. Rape is a terrifying ordeal under any circumstance.’ Willis let a beat of silence pass. ‘Shouldn’t you have thought more seriously about coming to see him alone today?’

She delayed answering by blowing her nose. Too forcefully. When she took the tissue away there was a smear of blood on her upper lip. ‘He hasn’t tried to strangle me before . . . or looked as if he was getting a thrill out of hurting me.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘And before you ask whether he got a thrill out of the rape,’ she went on belligerently, ‘the answer is I don’t know because I couldn’t see his face. When he’d finished, he pushed me to the ground and left.’

‘And that was the last time you saw him before today?’

‘Yes.’ She rushed to pre-empt him again. ‘And the reason I wasn’t afraid about coming alone was because this is a hospital, Dr Willis.’ She gave an angry laugh. ‘I thought it would be a safe place to talk to him. I expected him to be on a ward . . . or at least that there’d be a few doctors and nurses around.’

‘Mm.’ Willis set to with his spectacles again, breathing on the lenses and using his handkerchief to wipe them clean. ‘Which makes it more surprising that you chose to play up to his Uma Thurman fantasy . . . and didn’t leave when he asked you to.’

The glasses routine was getting on her nerves. ‘I could have had him booted out of his regiment if I’d reported him . . . still could, probably. The army doesn’t condone rape any more than the rest of society does. How do you think the police will react if I say he had another go at me today?’

‘At a guess, question your motives in coming here . . . ask why you didn’t report the rape at the time . . . or why you began by telling hospital security that you didn’t want the authorities involved this time.’ He shook his head at her expression. ‘You’re on a slippery slope to real delusion if you think you can act the victim in this, Jen. The police will work out, as quickly as I’ve done, that it’s you who’s been using sex to manipulate this relationship, and that’s a poor basis for a rape allegation . . . particularly when there’s only your word that it happened.’

Her eyes hardened. ‘You’d better hope I don’t report you to whatever association you belong to. I bet there’s nothing in the psychiatric code that says it’s OK to condone violence against women just because the rapist’s your patient.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Willis agreed lightly, ‘but it’s a big leap from my pointing out the flaws in your story to you accusing me of condoning violence against women. I’d find your allegation more believable if you’d said you’d made a crude attempt to seduce Charles. He’s a fastidious man – I suspect he’d regard any such attempt as exploitative and demeaning – and I can imagine him turning on you in those circumstances. Rather as he did today, in fact.’

‘You weren’t there. You don’t know anything about it.’

Willis replaced his spectacles. ‘Except you obviously came dressed like that for a purpose – to trigger some pleasurable memories, perhaps – and it appears to have provoked the opposite response. Charles has only negative associations with your Uma Thurman look. Do you want to tell me why?’

‘No.’ She stood up abruptly, clasping her bag to her chest. ‘It’s late. I have to go.’

‘Then I’ll take you to the taxi rank in the visitors’ car park. There’s a short cut through the staff entrance.’

‘I don’t need an escort,’ she said. ‘I want the Ladies. I’ll leave by the main entrance.’

Willis shook his head as he rose to his feet. ‘I can’t let you go alone, I’m afraid. If you insist on a lavatory stop, I’ll have to call a female security officer to accompany you.’

Jen looked murderous. ‘Why?’

The psychiatrist gave an apologetic shrug. ‘Hospital policy. We don’t allow drug abuse on the premises. What you do outside is a matter between you and your conscience . . . but I’d show some restraint if I were you.’

She took a swipe at him with her bag and staggered slightly when she missed by a mile.

He eyed her with amusement. ‘I’m just the messenger, Ms Morley. Don’t shoot me because you don’t like what I say.’

‘Fuck you!’ she said out of the mouth of an otherworldly angel.