Song Of The Psychopath

by Mark Tilbury

  His parents had fired their usual salvo of questions at him, but Tommy had steadfastly clung to his right to remain silent. Marks had also requested another meeting the following Monday with Tommy and Danielle to go through the recording of the session with him. Tommy would rather go through a sewer than delve into any of that shit again.

  He didn’t remember much about who The Master was – only that he was a sick and twisted pervert who got off on being violent and cruel. The bastard who was responsible for the scarring across his back and his buttocks. But everything else was still a blank.

  As for Bella, well, at least he now knew how he’d met her and the part she’d played in abducting him. As with The Master, all else was still a mystery. And it could stay one for all he cared.

  His parents were also talking about Tommy going back to school. How it might do him good to be around his friends again. What friends? He didn’t remember anyone. The past was nothing more than a black hole inhabited by aliens.

  He’d had no more flashbacks since the hypnotherapy, but he was well aware they could return at any time. A face at the window. A voice from the wardrobe. Although the new medication seemed to be helping him sleep better, he still woke up at least a dozen times in the night, sweating profusely and clinging on to the duvet as if to let go would propel him out of the window and straight into the arms of Bella.

  A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s me. Danielle. Can I come in?’

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘I just want a quick chat.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Dr Marks.’

  ‘I’m not going back there.’

  The door opened to reveal Danielle’s latest experiment with hair dye: Green and purple streaks. Tommy thought he might start calling her Rainbow Head.

  ‘Please, Danielle. I don’t wanna talk. Especially not about the clinic.’

  Rainbow Head edged into the room. ‘I’ve had a word with Dr Marks, and he’s offered to come to the house for your next session.’

  ‘There’s not gonna be a next one. All that stuff only made things worse.’

  Danielle moved further into the room and closed the door behind her. ‘But it’s bound to get worse before it gets better.’

  ‘Worse? It’s bloody well bad enough as it is.’

  She invited herself to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘At least we know who Bella is now.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s something to work on. We have a name. Know what she looks like, and that she more than likely lives in Oxford.’

  ‘So, now we’ve just gotta find a blonde-haired woman who might live in Oxford. It’s like having a puzzle with most of the pieces missing.’

  Danielle curled a green streak of hair around her forefinger. ‘But next time, you might remember something else about her.’

  ‘I don’t wanna remember.’

  Danielle squeezed his hand. ‘I can understand that. But these people have to be caught, Tommy. We can’t let them get away with it.’

  ‘They already have.’

  ‘The best thing to do is take it one step at a time. Stop trying to see the whole picture at once.’

  ‘That’s easy to say when you haven’t got bite marks all over your body and a fuckin’ great number nine carved on your back.’

  ‘But, on the positive side, the police have had impressions made of the bite marks, so they can identify him when he’s caught.’

  ‘If he’s caught.’

  ‘I’m pretty confident they’ll catch him if you continue to see Dr Marks.’

  Tommy bowed his head. ‘I’m so fuckin’ tired, sis. I haven’t even got the energy to get outta bed. No one understands what all this shit has taken outta me.’

  ‘Then let Dr Marks come here. I’m sure he wouldn’t offer unless he thought it would help.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘I told him I’d call back later today when I’d asked you.’

  No pressure. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Dad reckons it’s a great idea.’

  ‘I don’t care what he thinks.’

  ‘Give him a break, Tommy. He’s only trying to help.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘He loves you. We all do.’

  ‘Then leave me alone.’

  ‘You’re our flesh and blood, Tommy. We want you to get better. Find out who did this to you.’

  Tommy relented. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just not that hopeful.’

  ‘But, don’t you see, the more we can find out, the more hopeful you’ll get.’

  Tommy didn’t agree. Knowing Bella had taken him to The Master, and The Master had sunk his teeth into him had merely underlined their capacity for cruelty.

  ‘Please have a think about seeing Dr Marks again. I’ll come back after lunch.’

  ‘And if I don’t want to?’

  ‘Then we’ll try something else. I’m going into town in a bit. Is there anything you want?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  ‘Chocolate? A magazine?’

  Tommy shook his head.

  ‘Oh, by the way, I nearly forgot. I’m going to meet Dean for a coffee at Dalton’s Bakery tomorrow during my lunch hour.’

  ‘You texted him, then?’

  ‘Yep. It’s not gonna hurt, is it? Just baby steps at first and we’ll see where it leads.’

  Tommy didn’t know whether to be pleased for her or worried about her. He wanted his sister to be happy, but Bella was living proof you couldn’t trust anyone.

  ‘Anyway, it’ll give me something to do at lunchbreak instead of sitting in the canteen and listening to all the moaning. I swear to God no one’s ever happy these days.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve got a good reason not to be.’

  Danielle rolled her eyes. ‘And maybe they ought to be grateful nothing like this has ever happened to them. Anyway, I’m gonna get off. You sure you don’t want anything?’

  ‘Just some sleep.’

  Danielle kissed him on the cheek, walked out of the bedroom, and closed the door behind her.

  Tommy waited a few seconds, struggled out of bed, and went to the window. A strong wind was doing its best to strip the final autumn leaves from the trees. A broken door on the shed was swinging back and forth as if playing host to a constant stream of ghostly visitors. Two of the four white plastic chairs had been blown against the fence, and the parasol flapped and spun on its rusty pole like a knackered flag.

  Thankfully, there were no images of Bella floating around outside to terrify him, or tendrils of smoke leaking from his wardrobe door.

  Perhaps it’s helped seeing Dr Marks, a voice whispered in his head. You haven’t had any flashbacks since.

  Tommy wanted to believe that. Hold on to it as he faced a future completely dependent on an unknown past. But his minor improvement was more likely a result of the medication. Surely being traumatised couldn’t have a positive impact

  It’s your choice, Tommy. Dr Marks or the Great Lassiter’s Leap.

  He stared at the partially skeletal trees. Admired their raw beauty. Their ability to gracefully bow to the powerful wind. He thought it must be lovely to have no thoughts. No worries. Nothing. Just existing from day to day as part of nature.

  Time ticked relentlessly on. Soon, autumn would give way to winter, winter to spring, spring to summer. An endless cycle of life in constant motion. Tommy was briefly captured by the pointlessness of it all. Everything had to die in the end. It was simply a question of when.

  He walked back to his bed and sat. Put his head in his hands. Begged God to relieve him of this nightmare existence where death seemed to be the only way out.

  As usual, God was otherwise engaged sorting out everyone else’s problems.

  Chapter Twenty

  Danielle returned to Tommy’s room around mid-afternoon. She put a Mars Bar and a bottle of orange Fanta on the bedside table. ‘I got you these.’

  Tommy looked at them as if
they might be poisoned. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Don’t matter if you don’t want them, but I thought they might give you a bit of energy.’

  ‘Ta.’

  She sat on the ottoman. ‘Have you had any more thoughts about seeing Dr Marks?’

  ‘I’m gonna give it one more go. But that’s it, Danielle. If it doesn’t help, I’m done.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘I mean it. Don’t bother coming to me with any more suggestions. I’m sick of having my head messed around with.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You still gonna meet Dean tomorrow?’

  Danielle nodded. ‘I’m pretty nervous, though. I haven’t been near a bloke since me and Sam split up. Haven’t wanted to. But it might be okay now you’re home and my head isn’t all over the place.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘So, is it all right if I tell Dr Marks you’re okay with him coming round next Monday?’

  Tommy thought he was anything but all right with it. ‘Yeah. But I want him to promise me he’ll wake me up straight away if anything goes wrong.’

  Rainbow Head stood. ‘Okay. I’ll go and phone him now.’

  He waited for the door to close, moved to the window, and checked for possible intruders. Imagined or otherwise.

  Danielle returned a few minutes later. ‘All arranged. He’s coming at two p.m. on Monday.’

  Tommy stood down from window watch. All was as it should be outside. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Please don’t let it worry you, Tommy. I’ve got a good feeling about this.’

  ‘Probably ’cos you’re in love.’

  ‘Ha, ha, very funny. I’m meeting him for a coffee. Nothing else.’

  The conversation was interrupted by Rachel knocking on the door and entering without permission.

  ‘There’s a detective downstairs who wants to see you, Tommy.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just to go over a few things.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘How should I know?’

  Danielle rubbed his arm. ‘Don’t worry. The police are only trying to help.’

  ‘How? By asking me if I can remember anything?’

  ‘But you can now,’ Rachel said. ‘And it might be terribly important.’ She left the room with her usual Mother knows best look. The one that combined annoyance with disappointment.

  ‘You’d better go, Tommy,’ Danielle said. ‘You can tell the detective about the hypnotherapy.’

  ‘Fat lotta good that’ll do.’ He reluctantly trudged downstairs with his sister.

  DS Sam Baker was standing in the lounge fiddling with his tie. ‘Ah, Tommy, good to see you. How are you?’

  Do you want the truth or the usual bullshit? ‘Not too bad, I suppose.’

  ‘Have a seat.’

  Tommy sat on the sofa, Danielle next to him.

  Baker perched on the edge of a dining chair. Sniffed and consulted his notebook for a few seconds. ‘We’ve managed to get an excellent dental impression from the photographs of the bite marks.’

  ‘Now you just need the teeth to match it.’

  Baker nodded. ‘Your mother called us and said you’d recalled some fragments of memory. Is that right?’

  ‘It was under hypnosis, so it probably doesn’t mean much.’

  Rachel sat at the table with Baker. ‘It seemed pretty significant to me.’

  Tommy ignored her. ‘Like I said, it was under hypnosis. I don’t remember anything much now.’

  Baker sniffed as if trying to detect deceit. ‘Well, the courts don’t accept evidence obtained under hypnosis, but I’m more than willing to use every means possible to lead us to the offender. Once we get there, we can use more solid evidence to nail them. So, in your own time, would you like to tell me what happened.’

  Tommy told him about Bella picking him up in Oxford and taking him home in a taxi. ‘But I don’t remember nothing until I woke up in a glass room with that cu… bloke. She must’ve spiked my coffee in the café.’

  ‘Do you know his name?’

  Tommy shook his head. ‘He called himself The Master.’

  ‘What did he look like?’

  ‘Fairly tall. Dark hair, dark eyes.’

  ‘Any distinguishing marks?’

  ‘Not really. Maybe six-six-six tattooed on the back of his head.’

  ‘Would you be all right if a sketch artist visited you to sketch Bella and this other guy?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Thanks. We normally get a good response when we release an artist’s impression to the media. Okay, what happened after you woke up?’

  ‘He told me to strip and stand with my hands against the wall. Took pictures of me from the back and from the sides.’

  ‘With a proper camera or a phone?’

  Does it matter? ‘Phone.’

  Baker wrote in his notebook. ‘Anything else happen?’

  Tommy hesitated. Looked at Rachel. ‘Would you leave the room, please?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t wanna talk about it in front of you.’

  ‘But I’m your mother, Tommy. I want to know what happened.’

  Baker interrupted. ‘Perhaps it would be best if you left us to talk alone for a while, Mrs Scarlett. This is clearly an extremely sensitive subject.’

  Rachel scraped back her chair and left the room in a cloud of huff.

  ‘Do you want me to go, too?’ Danielle asked.

  Tommy shook his head. Took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘He made me kneel on the floor and put my bum in the air. Took a load more pictures, then he…’

  ‘What, lad? What did he do?’

  Tommy sighed. ‘Sank his teeth into my bum. It was as if I’d been attacked by a Rottweiler.’

  Baker put down his pencil. ‘I’m sorry, Tommy. It must’ve been hell for you.’

  Tommy’s shoulders shook. He wiped tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Did anything else happen?’

  He didn’t answer for a while. Danielle handed him a tissue.

  ‘When you’re ready, lad,’ Baker said. ‘I understand this is difficult to talk about.’

  Tommy sniffed ‘No. That was it. Then I was back in the room with Dr Marks and Danielle.’

  ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’ve been extremely brave,’ Baker said. ‘I’ll leave you to rest now. If you remember anything else, please don’t hesitate to call me.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Danielle accompanied the detective to the door and showed him out. When she returned to the lounge, her brother was staring out the window as if transfixed by something.

  ‘Tommy?’

  He didn’t look at her. Carried on gawping out the window.

  She walked to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’

  He grinned, but his eyes remained wide and staring.

  Rachel walked into the room. ‘Well, that was… what’s the matter with him?’

  Danielle put a finger to her lips. ‘I think he’s gone into a trance again.’

  ‘But he seemed fine a minute ago.’

  Danielle gently shook his shoulder. ‘Tommy?’

  He snapped his head round. ‘Fuck off, Bella.’

  ‘It’s me, Tommy. It’s Danielle.’

  ‘You know what you are, don’t you? A fuckin’ witch, a bitch and a snitch.’

  Danielle recoiled. Turned to her mother. ‘He’s definitely gone again.’

  ‘Wake him up,’ Rachel demanded. ‘Wake him up, now!’

  Tommy turned his attention to his mother. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Messin’ with people’s heads. Standing there like you own the fuckin’ place. But you don’t. You’re nothing but a skid mark on my boxers.’

  Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth and retreated a few paces. ‘For God’s sake, wake him up, Danielle.’

  ‘But I’m gonna get you,’ Tommy promised. ‘I’m gonna get you one day and stomp all
over your face.’

  Danielle blocked his view of his mother. ‘Tommy, you’re at home. It’s only me and Mum here. You need to come back.’

  ‘One of these days I’m gonna get outta here. And when I do, I’ll come for you. I’ll hunt you down and kill you.’

  ‘I’m going to call the doctor,’ Rachel said, backing out of the room. ‘His medication clearly isn’t working anymore. He needs something stronger.’

  Tommy stared out the window again. ‘I suppose that chain-smoking lump’ll be here in a minute to pick me up. If The Master thinks I’m going anywhere with him, he’s gonna get a nasty shock.’

  Danielle looked at the ceiling as if hoping for divine intervention. ‘There’s no one coming to pick you up. You’re—’

  Tommy raised his hands and slapped the sides of his head repeatedly. Spittle sprayed from his lips. ‘Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?’

  ‘No one’s gonna hurt you, Tommy. I promise. Bella’s not here.’

  Tommy didn’t hear her. He was trapped within his own mind, waiting to be taken to another appointment. Another pervert who thought money entitled him to rape and abuse kids. And worse. Some of them made The Master seem gentle in comparison.

  A few seconds later, he stopped slapping himself and sank back on the sofa. The world around him appeared in a kaleidoscope of purple, yellow, and black dots. A dreadful humming noise buzzed in his ears.

  His last conscious thought before falling into an exhausted sleep was, Baa, Baa, Black Sheep hasn’t any wool. None for The Master, and none for the dame, and a whole heap of shit for the little boy who lives down the lane.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Karl Duggan thought killing the wannabe hairdresser would be a good boost for his morale. Relieve some of the frustration bubbling in his veins. But it hadn’t. If anything, it had made him feel worse. The initial, euphoric adrenaline rush had soon been replaced by a rapid slide into depression. If they didn’t do something pronto about that damned missing kid, he was going to be skating on ice with the consistency of flaky pastry.