You Are Dead

29

Friday 12 December

Jacob Van Dam’s last patient of the week sat in front of him now. Neil Fisher, an army captain who had been given an honourable discharge after suffering a nervous breakdown after his third tour of Afghanistan, a year ago.

During an assault on an enemy position, the officer’s best friend, running alongside him, had been hit in the midriff by shrapnel from a shell. Fisher had carried the screaming, newly-wed man on his shoulders, with half his intestines uncoiled around his face, into the safety of a shell hole, where he had died, sobbing for the arms of his bride. Captain Fisher was now suffering severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

But the elderly psychiatrist was unable to focus on what the former soldier was saying, just as he had been unable to concentrate on any of his patients since his encounter with the strange anaesthetist, Dr Harrison Hunter. His mind was a turmoil of conflicting thoughts.

After phoning his distraught sister Tina to verify that Logan was still missing, he had spent his lunch hour on the internet, frantically searching first the medical register, then googling the doctor’s name. The only Harrison Hunter he had been able to find was the Chief Executive of the Canadian Pacific Railway. And that man’s photograph didn’t bear any resemblance to his new patient.

Dr Crisp had phoned him back, but wasn’t able to provide any real insights into Harrison Hunter beyond his views that the man was delusional and needed psychiatric help. He suggested that Van Dam contact the police.

After Fisher departed, clutching a new prescription for antidepressants that the psychiatrist had written out for him, Van Dam sat in silence, thinking hard. Should he phone the police? But to do that he had to be sure he believed Hunter — whoever he really was. And he had a strong feeling the man might be delusional. He’d had patients in the past who had confessed to imaginary crimes they had committed. On one occasion he had called the police, after a confession to murder, only to discover that no such crime had been reported. And in a subsequent session, this patient had admitted to making it all up.

Was Hunter, as Dr Crisp believed, really delusional? If he were to phone the police, giving them false information supplied by Hunter, might it actually harm or slow down the investigation?

Logan was a lovely girl. Bright, warm and natural. His desperate sister had told him what he had already read, about the manhunt that was taking place to find her. He noticed the winking light on his phone. An incoming call. His secretary had left a couple of hours ago. He lifted the receiver and pressed the button to answer it.

‘Dr Van Dam?’

‘Yes?’ He recognized the man’s voice. ‘Dr Hunter?’

‘It’s not looking good for Logan Somerville, is it?’

The psychiatrist had prepared himself for a further conversation with the man. He’d lined up a number of questions to test him. ‘How well do you know my niece?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know her at all, Dr Van Dam. I only know the man who has taken her.’

‘Is that so?’

‘He’s very deeply disturbed. We are going to have to tread very carefully if we want her to be safe.’

‘Tell me why I should believe you?’

‘Well, it’s because I can tell you something about her that the police don’t know.’

‘What’s her middle name, Dr Hunter?’

‘I wouldn’t know that.’

‘Perhaps you can tell me her birthday?’

‘What are we doing — playing some kind of Trivial Pursuit, Dr Van Dam?’

‘I wouldn’t say there was anything trivial about a young lady who might have been abducted.’

Hunter’s voice sounded almost gleeful. ‘You see? You don’t even know for sure she has been abducted. She might have just run away to safety, to get away from her boyfriend. Sorry, her fiancé.’

Van Dam was jolted by this. It was what his sister had told him earlier when he had called her to ask if it was true that Logan had disappeared. What was his connection? ‘Can you shed some light on how you know that, for me?’

‘It’s on her Facebook page!’

‘I’m afraid I’m not up to speed on social media.’

‘Well, Logan has put a couple of recent posts up on her Facebook page. The first says that she had broken off her engagement to Jamie Ball. The second, a few days ago, says, “Quoting Henry 2nd. Will no one rid me?”’

‘Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?’ Van Dam said.

‘You’re on the money!’

Van Dam frowned. ‘Are you saying the reason for her disappearance is to get away from her fiancé?’

‘You’re meant to be the expert on the human psyche, Dr Van Dam. The lady changes her mind and her fellow doesn’t accept it. Perhaps the smart thing is to disappear. Lie low for a bit. Let him calm down.’

Jacob Van Dam suddenly found his entire thought process in a tangle of confusion. Was this true, had Logan engineered her disappearance to get away from her fiancé? But before going down this route, he needed to be sure this man was real, and not, as he had originally feared, delusional or a fantasist. ‘How well do you know this man who you claim has taken my niece, Dr Hunter?’

‘Well, there’s a difficult question. How well do you know any of your patients, I wonder? You will only ever know what they let you know. How well do we really know ourselves? Do you know yourself? I doubt I know myself. Remove my face and my name, and I doubt I would recognize myself if people were talking about me. How about you?’

‘I don’t think this is an appropriate time for philosophical discussions, Dr Hunter. My niece is missing, and there are people who believe her life is in danger. If you have information to the contrary, I would really appreciate you sharing that with me.’

‘You sound very sceptical, Doctor.’

‘I don’t like people who play games with me. It’s six o’clock on a Friday evening. I’m tired and I want to go home.’

‘I expect Logan would like to go home, too.’

‘You’ve just told me she might have run away.’

‘And I told you earlier today that I’m the only person who may be able to save her life.’

The psychiatrist took his time before answering. All his years in medical practice had not prepared him for someone as odd as this character. Was Hunter the man who had taken Logan? Was he actually a friend or associate of the man who had taken her? Or was the real reason for Logan’s disappearance, as he had suggested, altogether less sinister than everyone thought?

‘All right,’ he said. ‘If Logan has run away to get away from her fiancé, what does she do next?’

‘I wouldn’t want to speculate on that. This is what I’m saying.’

There was something in the man’s voice that deeply perturbed Van Dam. It was as if he was gloating about something. Some superior knowledge that he held. He decided to push him.

‘Would you say that you know my niece quite well, Dr Hunter?’

‘I wouldn’t say so.’

‘But you know her?’

There was a long silence. Van Dam sensed the dynamics had changed. He needed to get to a conclusion — and he was still far from one at this moment. He decided to push further. ‘There is very little you have told me, Dr Hunter, that gives me any indication that you know Logan or anyone associated with her. It’s my view that you are a very disturbed man, trying to fulfil some deep inadequacy. So I’d appreciate it if you would either tell me something significant about Logan Somerville, or else crawl back into your hole and go pick on someone more gullible.’

‘You really want to blow the opportunity to save your niece’s life?’

‘Not at all. But I don’t believe you are the man who can save her. Answer the question I just put to you. Tell me something significant about Logan that will enable me to believe you.’

‘OK, Dr Van Dam. Listen up. I’m going to tell you something. If you go to the police about me, I’ll never speak to you again and no one will ever see her alive again. So just keep this to yourself. Your niece has a mark on her right thigh.’

‘Does she? What kind of a mark?’

‘Three words, two of them abbreviated.’

‘What do they say?’

‘They say, “U R DEAD”.’