Crucified

Chapter 1

Having been told Doctor Kenneth Hargreaves was running late for their appointment, Jack sat patiently in the Harley Street waiting room not knowing what to expect. It was his first visit to the clinic.

It was nearly 9.30 a.m. when the door opened and the receptionist informed him that Doctor Hargreaves had arrived. Hargreaves had actually arrived ten minutes earlier and had quickly scan-read the initial consultation report. Normally he would have studied a patient’s file thoroughly, made notes and carefully considered his approach before meeting them, but today he just hadn’t had time.

Jack entered Hargreaves’ office and the doctor stood up, offering his hand.

‘I apologise for keeping you waiting, Mr Warr. My train was cancelled. Please take a seat.’ He pointed to a comfortable-looking chair in front of his desk.

Jack glanced around the bland, almost featureless room. Hargreaves flipped open his leather notebook and removed a slim silver biro from the grip, which he placed to one side. Jack settled into the chair as requested.

‘It was my wife’s idea to have a private consultation. She spoke very highly of you.’

Hargreaves hesitated while trying to recall the phone call with Doctor Warr. ‘Ah yes, I have an NHS practice at the hospital where she works two mornings a week. She’s on maternity leave now, I believe.’ Hargreaves knew that Jack had walked out on two previous sessions with NHS therapists. ‘But I believe you were not enthusiastic about coming to see me.’

‘Correct.’

‘Are you happy to talk to me today?’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Jack said non-committally.

Hargreaves found Jack’s dark eyes unnerving, almost challenging, but it didn’t disturb him. He had spent years as a prison psychiatrist so had extensive experience of troubled and dangerous individuals. Jack’s physically relaxed demeanour was slightly at odds with his steady eye contact, but he showed no tension with his hands resting on his crossed legs. Hargreaves started slowly.

‘This must be quite a challenging time with a new baby?’

‘You could say that. But Maggie is incredible.’

‘What’s your son’s name?’

‘We’re still arguing about that. I want to call him Horatio, but Maggie hates it.’ Hargreaves looked as if he was about to say something so Jack quickly went on. ‘When Maggie took maternity leave, she went into nest-building overdrive and decided we needed a kitchen extension. She organised it all. It’s open-plan with a glass roof and fitted blinds. She chose the flooring tiles, lights and all the kitchen appliances. Now she wants a load of inside plants from the garden centre.’

‘It all sounds very costly,’ Hargreaves said.

Jack nodded. ‘I had to take out a bank loan and sell my car. Well, Maggie thought it was my car...’ Jack knew he was about to say something revealing but felt oddly comfortable with that. Perhaps because he knew his words would never leave this room. ‘It was a debt someone felt they owed me. Nothing illegal, but Maggie wouldn’t have approved.’

‘Jack...’ Hargreaves gave Jack a knowing smile. ‘Why are you here?’

Jack was about to go off on another tangent, then stopped himself. ‘I worry I might hurt Maggie.’

‘Just Maggie? Are your children safe?’

‘Of course they are.’

‘The aggression you feel — is it verbal or physical?’ Jack frowned as he struggled to find the answer. ‘Have you ever hit out? Lost control? Jack, have you ever physically attacked your wife?’

Jack looked horrified by the very thought. ‘Of course not!’

Hargreaves persisted. ‘But you think you could?’

‘Yes. It’s got so bad that some nights I sleep in a different room. I have no control over it. And recently, it’s got a lot worse. Punching, shouting and kicking out in my sleep.’

Hargreaves leaned back and sighed, wishing his train had not been late. Wishing he’d had time to read Jack’s notes more thoroughly. ‘You’re talking about night terrors.’

‘What did you think I meant?’ Jack said through clenched jaws. ‘That I’m a wife-beater?’

‘Sorry. I misunderstood what I read in the report.’

‘What did Maggie say to you?’

‘Not that, Jack. It was my error. I understand now. You’re in a deep sleep when these episodes occur. Do the nightmares occur frequently or just periodically?’

‘More frequent now. When I punch or kick out, it usually wakes me up. I’ve fallen out of bed plenty of times.’

‘Do you sleepwalk?’

‘No.’

Hargreaves nodded and made a note. ‘Have you had these problems since childhood?’

‘Not that I know of. Maggie said it started a few months ago.’

‘It could be due to the stress in your life right now. The upheaval in your home and a new baby. I want to book you an overnight appointment at a sleep clinic as soon as possible.’ As Hargreaves made a note of this, Jack rolled his eyes. He wanted answers now. Not in a week. A month. Longer? ‘You will be wired up to monitor your brain activity, as well as heart rate and eye and leg movement throughout the night. They will also watch your sleeping behaviour on CCTV. What we find out will allow me to understand your sleep disorder better, then we can discuss how best to control it. How does that sound?’

‘Whatever it takes to stop the nightmares,’ Jack said. ‘And to keep Maggie safe.’

‘You’re still on leave at the moment?’

‘My sick note’s almost up, I think. Do I get another from you?’

Hargreaves smiled. ‘Ironically, they are now called fit notes. Speak to your GP about that.’

The session continued for another thirty minutes, but Jack didn’t invest too heavily in any of it. Once he’d discovered that Hargreaves was too stupid to read his notes properly, Jack had kept things quite superficial. He had given no indication of the torment that sometimes felt like a hurricane raging inside his head. He’d decided to keep that hidden or he’d be written off as mentally unstable. He was surprised Hargreaves had not asked about the content of his nightmares, not that Jack would have told him. Revealing that he had tried to strangle Rodney Middleton with a shoelace and felt an uncontrollable compulsion to destroy him on behalf of the unidentified victims would definitely not be a good idea.

Maggie, dressed in leggings and a vest top, was in the newly built kitchen extension checking on a pot roast. She beamed when she saw Jack.

‘Hannah is at the park with Penny. The workmen have another couple of days on the loft extension before they start decorating, and Piglet is flat out after his last feed. I’m going to start feeding him bottled milk as well.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he’s constantly hungry and I can’t express enough milk... And I miss wine.’

Jack wrapped her in a bear hug and kissed her neck. ‘You’re back in terrific shape and looking gorgeous. We deserve the odd glass of wine in the evening. Just me and you.’

Grinning, Maggie squirmed free and flicked a tea-towel at him. ‘Before I forget, I got an email from Hargreaves. You have an appointment at a sleep clinic at ten tomorrow. I printed it out... it’s on the table.’

Jack went to the table to read the email. He’d got used to their cramped kitchen and it felt strange to have so much space now.

‘So, what did Hargreaves say?’ Maggie asked as she stuck a thermometer into the pot roast.

‘Reckons I have some sort of sleep disorder which, let’s face it, isn’t exactly news! Apparently the sleep clinic monitors my brain and stuff while I’m sleeping, so I’ll have to stay the night.’

‘Did you explain what the nightmares are about?’

‘He didn’t ask. He was late for my appointment. And he didn’t read the report you sent him. He thought I was attacking you when I was awake.’ Maggie shook her head — she’d hoped Jack would have been impressed with Hargreaves, making him more likely to go back.

‘Well, at least he booked the sleep clinic. They’ll help find answers.’

‘Let’s hope so. Oh, and I need a sick note from our GP, or did he say from the sleep clinic. Can’t remember.’ The baby monitor kicked in, emitting a low gurgling sound.

‘Can you go check on him? He might settle when he sees you. I’ll prep the veg then come up.’

Jack deftly circumnavigated the dust sheets covering the stairs and landing. Stacks of paint tins and tools were propped along the walls and stairs leading to the second floor where the men were still working on the loft extension. Jack edged around them to move aside a plastic sheet covering the door to the newly refurbished nursery, which had once been Hannah’s bedroom. It had now been extended to include an en suite bathroom. An alcove led into the next room, where Hannah’s bed, wardrobes and toys occupied one side. There was a new carpet, freshly painted walls, pretty curtains and blinds.

When Maggie had first returned from the hospital, Hannah had thrown a tantrum and demanded that she take ‘the piglet’ back. But as the days passed, she’d become more accepting of her brother’s presence and even seemed to like being a big sister. She was also excited to be starting prep school and especially looked forward to getting her new uniform and hat with a band and a badge on it.

Leaning over the cot, Jack stared at his handsome son lying on his back, his arms splayed out to the side and fists curled like a cherub. He had a robust, healthy appearance, with a round face, blue eyes and thick, curly blond hair, though his eyelashes were dark. He was growing quickly, and Jack knew it wouldn’t be long before the bassinet was too small for him. Jack jumped as Maggie slipped her arms around his waist. She had watched from the archway, touched at the look of adoration on his face.

‘Are we going to decide what to call him tonight?’ Maggie asked.

‘I’ll open a bottle of wine then,’ he said, kissing her. ‘We might need it!’ He made his way carefully downstairs, stepping over the paint tins which reminded him he was running very short of cash; he would have to find some more from somewhere to pay the builders and decorators to finish the work.

Unbeknownst to Maggie, Jack had used up his secret store of illegal cash which he had hidden in the garden shed. The money, which he hadn’t asked for, had been left as a ‘thank you’ pay-off in his car after he had helped the four women involved in the mammoth train robbery to escape.

Along with the hidden cash had been jewellery acquired from another robbery investigation. He had sold it piece by piece over the past year and again used the money to pay the builders in cash. The only item left under the floorboards in the shed was the painting rolled in the cardboard tube given to him by the elusive artist Adam Border. Jack doubted it could be an authentic Giacometti painting as he had seen so many fake works in Border’s studio. He’d also done some research on the internet and had been amused by the fact Giacometti only completed around five hundred works of art, yet it was estimated there were over thirteen thousand on the market. He was amazed by the number of famous artists whose works were routinely faked. In one exhibition of the artist Modigliani in Genoa, twenty paintings had been revealed to be counterfeits. The amount of money to be made from forgeries was astonishing.

Trying not to think about their financial situation, Jack checked the pot roast and turned the oven down. He selected a bottle of wine then vainly searched the kitchen’s unfamiliar new layout for a corkscrew. He had only just found it when his mother arrived home with Hannah. Hannah came hurtling into the kitchen, screeching when she saw him and, with blind faith, she leapt into the air, knowing he would catch her.

‘Daddy, Daddy, I met a puppy in the park and we played together! I really want a puppy — can I have one?’ He swung her around and told her that it would have to wait as she would be starting at her new school, and it was not nice to leave a puppy on its own. Hannah wriggled free then glared up at him, hands on her hips. ‘It wouldn’t be by itself. Mummy, Nana and you are here. And I can play with it when I come home.’

‘What about all the new friends you are going to make? You’ll want to play with them, so maybe a puppy can wait until you’re a bit older?’ Hannah stamped her foot and looked as if she was about to throw a tantrum when Maggie called down for her to come and help bathe the baby.

‘I’m asking Mummy about the puppy!’ Hannah shouted as she stomped upstairs. Jack and Penny shared a quiet laugh as they listened to Hannah shouting ‘Mummy!’ all the way upstairs. Jack opened the wine and Penny put on an apron to make Hannah’s tea and help finish dinner.

‘Hannah has talked non-stop about a puppy ever since we left the park,’ Penny said. ‘She even suggested we swap the baby for one!’

Jack shook his head, smiling. ‘Do you want a glass, Mum?’

‘No thanks, dear.’ Penny scooped up the veg prepared by Maggie. ‘I’ll get these on, set the table and sort Princess’s tea.’

Jack poured himself a glass of wine and sat at the table. ‘I love this new kitchen. So much more space. I think they should finish the loft conversion in a few days, too. Marius has just got to collect the glass for the loft skylight.’

‘He’s a lovely man, I must say, and I think he’s done a great job so far,’ Penny said. ‘Those Romanian workmen of his seem very professional. You know the carpenter is related to his sister’s husband?’ Jack smiled. He knew Marius and Penny saw each other socially, not just around the house. He had taken her to the theatre, and she had introduced him to bingo which, to everyone’s surprise, he thoroughly enjoyed. Jack and Maggie had tried to ascertain if their relationship was more than platonic, but neither wanted to ask Penny directly about it, so were left guessing. Jack’s mobile rang. He didn’t recognise the number so he went into the living room and closed the door before answering.

Jack had just finished the call when Maggie burst in and told him off for promising Hannah a puppy. He raised his hands defensively.

‘I never said she could have one! If she told you I did, she’s lied.’

‘Well, you need to tell her off then. “No name” is sleeping, so do it quietly.’

‘Josh, from the US, just called. Remember, you met him when I was on that drug investigation... he came round for dinner.’ Maggie dropped heavily onto the sofa.

‘Oh yes, he was nice.’

‘He’s coming to London on some lecture tour. He wondered if he could stay for a night? It’s a strange coincidence actually, as I was just thinking about the search we had on tracing...’

Maggie interrupted him. ‘You’re at the sleep clinic tomorrow night.’

‘No, no, it’s the following weekend Josh is coming.’

She frowned. ‘Anyway, it’s not exactly convenient with all the building work. The house is such a mess.’

‘He can sleep in my office. I’ll blow up that inflatable bed. It’ll only be one or two nights.’

‘Well, that doubled quickly! You said one night a minute ago.’ Maggie sighed. ‘I know you’ve already said yes. But don’t just leave the extra cooking and food shopping to me and your mum. From memory, he eats like a horse. I see you’ve already started on the wine.’

‘It’s my first glass. Mum’s finishing dinner, so you grab a drink and we’ll name our son.’

Maggie stood up. ‘Slow down a bit, Jack. You’re drinking more than usual lately.’

He shrugged. ‘It helps me get to sleep.’

Maggie raised her eyes to the ceiling before heading into the kitchen. ‘Well, it doesn’t help with the nightmares.’

Maggie didn’t care that Jack had done little to help with the rebuilding work, other than load a few skips when he was available. Most of the time he had been at the Middleton trial, which she knew had been emotionally draining for him. And the unpredictable swinging between dreadful insomnia and terrifying nightmares had also taken its toll. She was relieved that Jack would be having an MRI and blood tests as part of his overnight stay at the clinic. He’d lost a considerable amount of weight and it worried her almost as much as the punching, kicking and shouting while he was asleep.

Maggie had hoped that, after the birth of the new baby, with Jack on parental leave and then a further two weeks of annual leave to come, his nightmares would get better. But they hadn’t. He was still attentive and loving, but his temper was short, and he had started drinking heavily at night, supposedly to help him sleep. She knew he was constantly tired, and she worried that his volatile moods would only get worse with alcohol. Jack had been reluctant to see the police therapist, snapping that his colleagues would think he was screwed up. How could he retain his fellow officers’ respect if they saw him walking into the fucking police therapist’s office once a week? So Maggie was very relieved when Jack had agreed to see Hargreaves.

Maggie finished making supper while Penny fed Hannah, then took her upstairs to read her a bedtime story and put her to bed. She’d set the dining table for two as she liked to take hers on a tray to her bedroom and watch TV. Maggie sighed. They were so lucky to have Penny living with them. But when Maggie returned to work, she was concerned that Penny wouldn’t be able to cope looking after Hannah and Piglet. Maggie had put out feelers with a few people at the hospital who she knew used au pairs but hadn’t said anything to Penny yet. They had to do something, though. Maggie needed to return to work. Jack was always vague about money, but she could tell he was anxious about it, and they badly needed her salary. She decided that after they’d discussed the baby’s name tonight, she would also raise the question of their financial situation.