Dreams of Fear

Ten

Dr Miriam Thorpe’s consulting rooms were in a narrow street of tall Georgian houses situated, rather conveniently for Vogel and Saslow, just a few minutes’ walk from Exeter’s Cathedral Yard.

The doctor was an unusually tall woman, probably in her late thirties. Her wavy dark hair was attractively untidy, and she was casually dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting sweater. Vogel assumed this kind of style was probably the norm nowadays for someone in her profession — on the basis that in the twenty-first century it was the sort of look required to encourage patients to relax and talk about themselves without feeling intimidated.

Dr Thorpe ushered Vogel and Saslow into a spacious high-ceilinged room, bade them sit on a sofa facing the window, and lowered herself into the armchair alongside. No formal seating arrangement for this one, and certainly no question of her sitting behind a desk while her visitors were forced into low seating accommodation, thought Vogel. Even when in this case the visitors were not patients but police officers, Dr Thorpe was careful to ensure that no party enjoyed a physical advantage over another.

She looked suitably shocked when Vogel explained that he was investigating the death of Jane Ferguson.

‘I h-had no idea,’ she said, somewhat obviously, stumbling very slightly over her words. ‘Jane is dead? My God. Wh-what happened?’

Vogel considered for a moment if the woman might be dissembling. But, in view of what had originally been regarded as the probability of Jane Ferguson’s death being suicide, no announcement had yet been made to the press. And whilst there was already doubtless plenty of local gossip, and probably at least some mention on social media, there was no reason why Dr Thorpe should be aware of it.

‘Mrs Ferguson’s body was found hanged from the bannisters of her home in the early hours of this morning,’ the detective explained bluntly. ‘By her six-year-old daughter.’

Miriam Thorpe gasped.

‘That’s terrible,’ she said. ‘Absolutely terrible. Poor Jane. And the poor child.’

‘Indeed,’ said Vogel. ‘We are here to ask you, doctor, if you are aware from your consultations with Mrs Ferguson of anything which might have led her to take her own life. And further to that, if you had ever regarded her as a person at risk.’

Miriam Thorpe looked doubtful.

‘Well, yes and no, detective chief inspector,’ she said. ‘Most people who seek out the counsel of a mental health professional are vulnerable. So yes, almost all of them are at some level of risk. But as for fearing that Jane might take her own life: no, I don’t think I ever thought that was likely. Although when dealing with someone who has reason to seek psychiatric help, one knows better than to rule anything out, my consultations with Jane never led me to actively consider that possibility. However, I really can’t go into detail, Mr Vogel. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that everything that takes place between a patient and someone in my position is highly confidential. That’s the only way we can maintain the necessary trust. Mine is after all one of the most sensitive areas of medicine... ’

‘I am sure it is, doctor,’ replied Vogel. ‘But perhaps I need to remind you that your patient is no longer with us, and that I am investigating the manner of her death.’

‘The manner of her death, detective chief inspector? You said she’d been found hanged, that she had taken her own life, didn’t you?’

‘I asked you if you knew of anything that may have led to Mrs Ferguson taking her own life, doctor. Now look, I totally understand your reluctance to breach a professional confidence, but there are extremely troubling aspects of Mrs Ferguson’s death which we are investigating, and I suspect it would be of considerable assistance to us if we had access to your notes concerning the deceased’s mental health. I feel sure you would be as anxious to get to the truth of the matter as we are, for everyone’s sake, not least her husband and her children.’

Miriam Thorpe still looked doubtful.

‘I take your point, inspector,’ she said eventually. ‘But I would like to check with Jane’s next of kin first, with her husband.’

‘I’m afraid I have to ask you not to do that, doctor,’ countered Vogel quickly.

Miriam Thorpe stood up abruptly and turned away from the two officers for a few seconds. Then she swung around to face them again.

‘So, you think Jane’s death may be suspicious and you suspect her husband may be involved, is that the nub of it, Mr Vogel?’ she asked eventually.

‘We are investigating Mrs Ferguson’s death, doctor, and Mr Ferguson is helping with our enquiries. That is all I can possibly tell you in that regard at the moment. You must understand that in our line of work, also, there are areas of considerable sensitivity.’

‘Of course. And shall we just say that my contacting Mr Ferguson in advance of any assistance I might feel able to give you could be counter-productive. Is that so, Mr Vogel? Please don’t prevaricate, will you?’

Vogel smiled, very slightly. He was beginning to think that Miriam Thorpe was someone he could work with after all.

‘That is absolutely so, doctor,’ he said. ‘And, if it helps at all, I can tell you that we are about to launch a full-scale murder investigation. This will be announced through the media very shortly, either, I would expect, by the head of the Devon and Cornwall Police Major Crimes Team, or the chief constable.’

Miriam Thorpe nodded. She stood looking at Vogel in silence for a few seconds, then walked to her desk and sat down.

‘All right, Mr Vogel,’ she said, as she fired up her computer. ‘A woman who was under my care has died a violent death, you and your superiors believe she has been murdered, and I accept that any information I have might be of considerable significance in your investigation. Under these circumstances, I will give you all the help I can. You should know that Jane Ferguson’s case is, or should I say was, a very challenging one. She came to me because she was suffering from terrifying dreams. Nightmares, in fact. Were you aware of these dreams?’

‘Yes, but not in any detail,’ said Vogel. ‘We have interviewed Jane’s husband and other members of the Ferguson family concerning this, but they claim to know nothing of either the content or cause of her dreams.’

Dr Thorpe nodded.

‘They may well be telling the truth, Mr Vogel,’ she said. ‘Certainly, Jane always claimed that the nightmares were a mystery to her.

‘We began a series of standard therapy sessions which revealed very little. At first sight Jane Ferguson seemed like a perfectly normal young woman. She claimed to be happily married. She appeared to have only happy memories of her childhood. There were causes of concern, things that had happened in her life which could possibly have caused her to have bad dreams. Her mother was a single parent, and she never knew her father. To all intents and purposes, she had no father. Her mother, Alice, had, Jane said, been quite honest about that. Alice told Jane that she had been going through a promiscuous stage when her daughter was conceived, that she’d been a child of the sixties, everybody was sleeping around, and she’d been no exception. Alice also said that she did a lot of partying as a young woman, she drank heavily, and she experimented with drugs. She claimed she did not know which of a number of candidates was Jane’s father, and she didn’t care. Jane was an accident, but a welcome one. Alice’s message to Jane was that she never for one second considered any alternative to having her child and bringing her up on her own in the best way that she could.

‘Now, you might think that in itself could have caused Jane to be disturbed. But she was quite adamant that she was untroubled by the question of her paternity. She said her mother’s love had been quite enough for her. That her mother always gave her a sense of security and supported her in everything that she did. And, although as you can imagine, I questioned her intensely on this issue, she never gave me the slightest cause to disbelieve her. Now, Alice died nine years ago, of an aneurism. Obviously, that was deeply upsetting for Jane. She said herself that her mother was everything to her. And it is quite possible that it was Alice’s death which sparked off Jane’s nightmares. But I was never able to get anything from Jane which proved that either way. She couldn’t even really remember when they started. Or so she said. Although she did say they got worse after her own children were born. Regarding her father, or rather her lack of a father, Jane seemed extremely well adjusted to that. Her reactions were so reasoned that I concluded that it was certainly unlikely that anything concerning her paternity was at the root of her problems.’

Dr Thorpe glanced at the screen.

‘Ah yes, and then there was the matter of her relationship with her husband’s family, particularly her mother-in-law. This was clearly very strained, not least because of Mrs Ferguson senior’s attitude to Jane’s family background. Apparently, Felix, who clearly knew his mother rather well, had suggested to Jane that they gloss over the issue of her father, and indeed let his parents think that Jane’s father had died when she was a baby. Jane was adamant that she was not going to enter married life on a lie. This caused terrible problems with the mother-in-law who apparently has strong ideas about what she calls “breeding”.’

Dr Thorpe paused.

‘Yes,’ said Vogel, with a little smile. ‘I have encountered that. Mrs Amelia Ferguson is certainly a woman of strong opinions.’

‘So I understand. Well, Jane admitted that there had been times during her marriage when she’d wished that she hadn’t been quite so principled on the issue of her paternity. But you know, although she disliked the unpleasantness, she didn’t seem to me ever to be unduly upset by it. This was a young woman who considered herself to be happily married, who made it quite clear that she loved her husband deeply, and was absolutely sure that he loved her.

‘She was perfectly well physically. She had two beautiful children whom she clearly adored. Her only unhappiness, it seemed, was these dreams. However, she talked about them frankly, and without embarrassment. And she certainly did not link them in any way to the two issues which seemed to be the only flaws in an otherwise charmed life: her lack of acknowledgeable paternity and her strained relationship with her in-laws. She did say if she’d been a brain surgeon or a famous television personality when she’d met her husband, instead of a waitress, it may have helped, but she wasn’t entirely sure. She had a nice sense of humour, and seemed able to see the funny side of most of the negative things in her life. But not those terrible dreams.’

Dr Thorpe paused again, studying intently the computer screen before her.

‘Yes, here’s something I was looking for. She said concerning her lack of a father: “You don’t miss what you never had.” Of course, often in these sorts of circumstances the relationship between the single parent and their child is particularly close, and there is little doubt that was so with Jane and her mother. When Alice died suddenly and unexpectedly, Jane was devastated. But she also seemed to have come to terms with it well enough. By the time I came in contact with her, anyway. She said that when she met Felix, just a few months after her mother died, he brought such joy and support into her life that... ’

There was another brief pause, then Dr Thorpe read directly from the screen again: ‘“It was almost as if my mother had sent him to love and look after me in her place.”’

Vogel was thoughtful.

‘And yet, in spite of her professed happy life, or by and large happy, she suffered from nightmares so severe that both she and her husband thought it necessary to seek professional help,’ he remarked. ‘Isn’t that the case?’

‘It most certainly is, Mr Vogel. She discussed freely the effect the nightmares were having not only on her, but also on her husband and her children—’

‘Her children knew about these nightmares then?’ Vogel interrupted.

‘Well, to some degree, yes. Apparently, her screaming was sometimes so bad that the children were woken up. I pushed her repeatedly on the content of her dreams, but she was adamant that she had no memory of them when she awoke. She described the fear she experienced pretty graphically, though.’

Again Dr Thorpe read from the screen before her.

‘“I feel as if I cannot breathe, as if my breath is being taken away from me. I am in shock, I think. I am never sure whether something terrible is actually happening to me in my dreams, or I am witnessing something terrible. I have never experienced such terror when I’ve been awake, not in the whole of my life, thank God. Felix has always been very good at calming me down. But lately I know I have been quite out of control. I hyperventilate. A couple of times I have lashed out at him. It’s just so awful for both of us.”’

‘That really is extreme, isn’t it?’ interjected Saslow.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said the doctor. ‘And on a regular basis, pretty unbearable. Ultimately I concluded that there was no way I could help Jane without knowing the cause of her dreams. That’s why I suggested regression therapy.’

‘Right. When you take a patient back under hypnosis to their childhood, or some time in their past?’

‘Yes, DCI Vogel. As there seemed to be nothing in Jane’s present life, or in her conscious memory, that might have been causing her dreams, this seemed to be the logical next step.’

‘And she was agreeable to it?’

‘Absolutely. She told me she was desperate to get to the bottom of her problem, and would do anything to do so.’

‘At that stage did you not think suicide was something she might consider? After all, you said yourself she was desperate.’

‘Well, it was clear that something was triggering a severe psychological reaction within Jane, so under those circumstances any medical professional would be irresponsible to dismiss suicidal tendencies entirely, but this was a young woman who was desperate to solve her only real problem in life. There appeared to be no desperation in her concerning the life that she led. She was more than happy with her lot. She just wanted to live free of the nightmares, and she gave every impression that she considered herself to be someone who had everything to live for. I never felt for a moment that she wanted to die. But, I guess I did have to admit, after what happened next, that I came to realize that Jane Ferguson might be considerably more complicated than she appeared to be... ’

‘We have reason to believe she may have been self-harming. There were old scars of small cuts on her wrists and lower arms. Did you have any knowledge of this?’

‘No, no, not at all. I’m a psychiatrist, I do not usually examine people physically. Come to think of it, I don’t recall ever seeing her wearing anything that didn’t have long sleeves. Or I would have thought I would have noticed. But she certainly never mentioned anything like that, and there was nothing in her behaviour that might have made me suspect it.’

‘We also discovered bruising on her body which has led us to explore the possibility of ongoing physical abuse—’

‘Really?’ interrupted the doctor. ‘By her husband, do you mean?’

‘Well, I couldn’t possibly confirm that. But her husband would be a suspect, obviously. Did you have any reason to consider anything of that nature?’

‘No, not at all. Certainly not at her husband’s hands. She repeatedly praised his kindness and his patience.’

‘So, what was it that happened next? Did you have the regression therapy sessions?’

‘Well, we had one. It was not conclusive in any way. But it was definitely disturbing. Jane proved to be easily susceptible to hypnosis, and, at first, I was confident we were going to have a successful session. I follow fairly standard procedure in such cases, trying to take the subject back to his or her earliest memories. Jane began to talk freely about her childhood. She appeared to have been happy both at home and at school. She needed little encouragement to tell stories of days out with her mother, the little dog they acquired, her schoolfriends, her teachers, her first bicycle, one of those with the two little balancing wheels at the back. All very normal stuff. And she showed no sign of distress as she regressed back into her childhood. But I did realize that everything she spoke about was after school-going age, five, or maybe six. She couldn’t be drawn on anything earlier, any stories about herself as a baby or a toddler, learning to walk and talk, that sort of thing. Now, it’s pretty usual for people not to have first-hand memories of that time of their life, but they nearly always have quite extensive second-hand memories.’

Dr Thorpe paused.

‘You understand what I mean, Mr Vogel? I expect you know how much you weighed when you were born, what your first words were, how you behaved as a baby, that sort of thing. But it’s not because you actually remember it. It’s because your parents told you. Isn’t that so?’

Vogel nodded his agreement. He did not mention that his early childhood had also not been entirely straightforward.

‘Well, with Jane Ferguson, it seemed almost as if she had been born aged five or six,’ Dr Thorpe continued. ‘That was the most curious thing about the session. I kept pushing the point. And I think I may have pushed too hard. Suddenly she started to scream, uncontrollably, just the way she described doing when she experienced one of her nightmares.

‘I brought her around straight away, of course. She was white as a sheet and trembling like a leaf. Then she just leaned over and was sick on the floor by the side of the couch.’

Dr Thorpe waved a hand in the general direction of her consulting couch.

‘I have actually never witnessed such an extreme reaction to regressive therapy, although I have read about it,’ the doctor went on. ‘I gave her water to drink, and called the practice nurse in. I was very anxious about her condition, obviously.

‘But she made quite a quick recovery. Superficially at any rate. After just a couple of minutes she swung her legs over the side of the couch and sat up. “How silly of me,” she said. I shan’t forget that, in a hurry. Particularly now that her life has ended so... so violently. “How silly of me.”

‘Anyway, I reassured her that it wasn’t silly at all. That she’d clearly had an extreme reaction to something she remembered whilst under hypnosis. She didn’t respond at all to that. I asked her if she could remember what it was, if she could remember what had been in her mind when she’d started to scream.

‘She said that she couldn’t remember a damned thing. Again, her exact words. “I don’t remember a damned thing.”’

‘Is that usual?’ asked Vogel. ‘Or would you expect a patient to remember the experiences they relived whilst under hypnosis, or certainly the more extreme or significant elements?’

‘It varies, Mr Vogel. Regressive therapy is not an exact science. I had no reason at all to doubt that Jane was telling me the truth.

‘Anyway, I was clearly going to get no further with her that day, and it may well have been dangerous to try. I was anxious about her leaving alone, so I suggested we call her husband and get him to come and pick her up. She was adamant that she didn’t want to do that. She said she had already caused him enough anxiety, and she was going to be just fine.

‘I did insist that she sat down and rested for a while before driving home. She agreed to that, and the nurse took her into the waiting room and made her a cup of tea. I saw her again, briefly, before she left. About forty-five minutes later, when I had finished with my next patient. She seemed to have recovered well. She apologized profusely for having been sick on my floor, and said she really had no idea what had come over her. She even tried to make a bit of a joke of it. She said, “Well, you won’t forget me now, my mum used to say I’d do anything to be the centre of attention.” Then she made an appointment for the following week, and left.’

‘When you saw her again, did you attempt another session of regression therapy?’

‘I never did see her again, DCI Vogel. She failed to keep her next appointment and never made another one. We wrote to no avail, and tried calling her, of course. But she didn’t pick up.’

‘How long ago was that, doctor?’

Miriam Thorpe glanced at her screen again.

‘Just under five weeks.’

‘I see. May I ask, if you were so anxious, why didn’t you do something about it, doctor? Contact her husband, perhaps?’

‘I wanted to. But we are bound by such strict rules of confidentiality nowadays. We are not allowed to contact any third party concerning a patient, not even a husband or wife. I wish I had done so now, of course.’

Vogel was thoughtful as he and Saslow walked to the car.

‘I think we’d better look into Jane Ferguson’s background ourselves, don’t you, Saslow?’ asked Vogel. ‘Starting with giving our Felix another grilling. I’m beginning to believe more and more that the key to all this lies in Jane’s past.’

‘Yes, boss,’ replied the young officer. ‘But everything Dr Thorpe told us would be more relevant if Jane had killed herself. And we now know ninety-nine point nine per cent that she was murdered.’

‘There was a deliberate attempt to make her murder look like suicide, which could easily have been accepted, particularly in view of her medical history. And, after finding that hangman’s fracture at the top end of Jane Ferguson’s spine, a lot of pathologists not as meticulous as Karen Crow mightn’t have looked much further.’

‘Really, boss?’ queried Saslow. ‘With that old bruising indicative of domestic abuse surely any pathologist’s suspicions would be aroused? To me what’s surprising is that the murderer wouldn’t realize that.’

‘Good point, Saslow. But all the old injuries, apart from the bruising and the healed wound on her face, were on parts of Jane’s body which would normally be covered by her clothing. Perhaps the murderer didn’t know about it.’

‘Her husband would have known about it though, surely, boss? He certainly would if he’d inflicted it. And Felix Ferguson is our principle suspect in all of this, and will remain so until we have evidence to indicate otherwise. In spite of what you told him this morning.’

‘Absolutely right, Saslow,’ said Vogel. ‘But even spouses and partners remain innocent until proven guilty. And there’s only one thing I’m getting more and more sure of, Saslow, concerning this case. I think almost nothing about it is quite how it seems. We are going to be opening up a real can of worms. Nobby is obviously quite sure of that. All we can do is take it step by step.’

‘We’re going to need to talk to those children some time, boss, aren’t we?’ said Saslow. ‘Probably formally. Maybe one of them, particularly Joanna, saw something more than we know already.’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ agreed Vogel. ‘And the nearest children’s suite is at Exeter, I expect. I’m going to hold off for a day or two, though, Dawn. See if we can clear this up without dragging them off there and causing them any more distress than necessary. Next step, let’s go back to Bay View Road and seek out Felix Ferguson again. We can start by finding out exactly what he does and doesn’t know about his wife’s background and early life.

‘Oh, and we can tell him that we are now officially upgrading the investigation into Jane’s death to a murder enquiry. That should take him out of his comfort zone.’