Pretty Little Things

by T. M. E. Walsh

  Her eyes scrutinise every inch of my face.

  ‘What have you done with Ruby Tate?’

  I stare back at her. She looks stressed.

  ‘That’s one little detail I’m not going to give you.’

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  ‘Oh, come now, don’t look at me like that. I’ve given you something to work with.’ I shrug. ‘Shall I tell you about that day in Milton Keynes? I faded Charlotte out then before Ruby decided to throw blood over us . . .’

  I give Mads a mischievous look. ‘Sometimes I used to lock Charlotte away when it was time to fuck Iain. It was her body but my mind . . . By the way, he’d tell you he enjoyed the biting, the roughness, the spontaneity.’

  I wink but she’s not biting. Should I give her more?

  ‘Why Bryony? Well, I was in two minds about whether to let her live – I nearly did. But then she realised where she recognised me – or rather, she recognised Charlotte. It was from the County Fair last year. You know what village life is like? Every fucker knows everyone else.’

  I eye them both, staring them out.

  ‘What else do you wanna know?’ I open my arms. I enjoy it when she openly recoils. ‘It’s open-book day, so ask away. I’m feeling generous . . . Oh, wait . . .’ I point at her. ‘You can’t use any of this in court, can you? Well, if this ever gets that far.’

  I look at Doc now. ‘It appears I’m considered a little bit cuckoo . . .’

  I’ve turned my attention back to the good doctor, because I can see he’s eager to engage with me, even if Mads isn’t too keen.

  ‘Have you had a lot of control of Charlotte?’ he asks, without any prompting.

  I nod.

  ‘Like I said before, I can cut in at any time. Charlotte’s not aware of me. Never has been. Sometimes she might see glimpses of things her body has done while I’m in control but those snippets that leak through have been beyond my control.’

  Doc’s reeling here and I admit the feeling it gives is intoxicating.

  ‘How often do you shut Charlotte down?’

  I shrug. ‘I don’t keep a record.’

  ‘Have you always been in Charlotte?’

  These are new questions; now he knows I’m real. Two days ago I had them all running around like headless chickens, not knowing what to make of my revelations – those girls.

  Elle.

  ‘Have you always been inside Charlotte?’ he asks again.

  I don’t like this question but I’ll answer it anyway. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you explain it to me?’

  This is drifting into dangerous territory now. How much do I reveal? Either way, I’m fucked. I’m tired, though. Wherever I end up – Rampton Secure Hospital or prison – it doesn’t matter any more. I’ll be caged, but content to remain so for the most part.

  In truth, I’d rather Rampton. I could still have fun there.

  ‘Joe?’

  I look at Doc. ‘I’ve always been a big part of Charlotte,’ I say. ‘Even if Mads here doesn’t believe me, in this, what’s happening now.’

  His eyes seem to flash. His pupils ping wider, despite the harsh, fluorescent lights overhead. His eyes look almost black now.

  He wants more. He’s hungry for it. Hanging on my every word.

  ‘I’ve been part of her since she was about three. I didn’t feel any need to play inside her head until she was much older. I lay dormant.’

  Doc scribbles on his pad. ‘When did you . . . wake up, so to speak?’

  I smile. ‘I like that terminology. Waking up . . .’

  This will make them both squirm, just watch.

  ‘I woke up when Miles became a problem, rather than just an inconvenience.’

  I relish the effect it has on them both. The mention of Miles sends a shudder through him like he’s been shot with electricity. Mads sits up in her seat.

  I keep the face passive. It can’t be read.

  ‘You want to talk to me about Miles?’

  I shrug. That memory has been locked away for such a long time now, it hardly seems fair. I don’t feel like Charlotte would be able to face what happened all over again.

  ‘It might help to talk about him – to talk about Miles.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it.’

  ‘Maybe you should let Charlotte be the judge of that.’

  I smile. ‘You’re good, Doc.’ I look at Mads and her eyes narrow. She’s taking mental notes; I can see her mind ticking over. Most people can recall that case, even if it is thirty-two years ago now.

  Little Miles’s death had always been thought nothing but a tragic accident.

  ‘Joseph,’ Doc says.

  I look at him.

  ‘Did you have something to do with what happened to Miles?’

  The look I give him says more than words ever could and, from the corner of my eye, I see Mads cover her mouth. In shock or disbelief, I can’t be sure.

  Maybe it’s both.

  The good Doc swallows hard – I can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, prominent through the skin at his throat.

  ‘And Charlotte?’ he says.

  ‘She’s never known what really happened.’

  ‘Help me understand.’

  I frown because I never felt the need to really show myself. I let Charlotte lead the way for years. For years I never interfered. And then Miles was born. It pisses me off that Charlotte’s mother – my mother too, I guess – pushed Charlotte aside.

  One day it came to a head.

  ‘Charlotte didn’t create me,’ I say. ‘I’ve always been here to deal with her trauma, hard-wired in. I’ve always wanted to destroy things, hurt people. One day I just decided to take control and start with Miles. Charlotte was anxious she’d been left to watch him that day.’

  Mads stands up like someone has just lit a fire under her arse.

  ‘Dr Seaward, can I have a word?’

  He’s reluctant to remove his gaze from me, but says, ‘Of course.’

  ‘Outside.’

  His head whips round to stare at her.

  When he looks back at me I cock my eyebrow, because Mads’s voice is harsh. She means business now. She’s pissed . . . and scared, I reckon. Scared what all this could mean – all the information I’m now willing to impart unto them all. She needs Doc right now – as I said before, this is dangerous ground.

  They are both walking a tightrope.

  They both leave the room, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.

  CHAPTER 66

  Madeleine stalked up and down the small corridor, arms folded tight across her chest. Dr Seaward stood a little way back from the door, looking through the small window in the doorframe.

  He watched Charlotte’s body pick at her nails on the other side.

  ‘Come away from that door,’ said Madeleine. ‘What I’ve got to say is for your ears only.’

  Seaward steered her across the hall and into another room. He shut the door after him. ‘We should be in there, getting information. We need to find Elle, you said so yourself.’

  Madeleine’s voice rose a notch. ‘Has it not occurred to you it’s more than likely that I’m looking for a body, not a missing person?’

  He paused. ‘You really think she’s dead?’

  ‘Forensics expedited nail scrapings taken from under Charlotte’s nails when she was arrested. It was Elle’s blood we found, minor traces of it. Kenzie’s too.’ She stepped closer to him. ‘It was Charlotte who picked them both up from the side of the road. We have dashcam footage . . . we think she’s killed them both.’

  The mention of killing didn’t faze him.

  ‘Either way, dead or not, don’t you see? To find them we need to get Joseph on side, to trust me.’

  Madeleine looked at him, eyes wide. ‘Have you lost your mind?’ she hissed. ‘You can’t tell me you believe this Joseph thing is real?’

  ‘Inspector, when you’ve been a psychiatrist for as long as I have, seen what I’ve seen, you
’d be surprised what you come to believe.’

  She held up her hands in front of him, silently telling him to stop.

  ‘This is bullshit.’

  She pointed a finger back towards the door, stabbing the air with force. ‘Charlotte Monroe is a killer. She’s cunning and manipulative. She wants us to think she’s unstable, mentally unsound, so she’ll be deemed unfit to plead at trial.’ She paced around him. ‘Time to wake up, Dr Seaward.’

  He pushed his glasses back up his nose and turned towards her. ‘You think that’s the strategy? Insanity is the defence?’

  Madeleine spun round on her heels to face him. ‘That’s exactly what I think.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Inspector. I don’t believe it’s an act.’

  Madeleine closed the distance between them. ‘I’ve seen some clever killers in my time. They play the system. She’s more than aware of what she’s done to those girls, and probably her own daughter too, need I remind you?’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I’ve got a mountain of evidence, Doctor.’

  ‘Then why isn’t she being held on remand?’

  Madeleine had no answer that she liked. Charlotte Monroe had been sent for psychiatric evaluation. This was not a straightforward case.

  ‘I don’t have time for this crap.’ She rubbed her forehead with her fingers as a tension headache began to build steadily.

  ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder,’ he said. He watched and waited for her to turn and face him.

  When she did finally look at him, her face was impassive.

  ‘You might be more familiar with its previous name,’ he said when she didn’t speak. ‘Multiple Personality Disorder?’

  Madeleine’s lips parted a fraction and she shook her head. ‘Oh, come on.’

  ‘You may laugh, Inspector, but I’ve seen it before. Only once, mind, but it’s possible that’s what we’re looking at here with Charlotte.’

  ‘And Joseph is what? Her alter ego? An imaginary friend?’ she said, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

  ‘None of the above.’

  Madeleine frowned.

  ‘Look, I think her psyche is fractured, Inspector.’

  Madeleine let her arms fall to her sides. She closed the gap between them. She eyed him carefully. ‘In layman’s terms, Doctor, if you wouldn’t mind. I don’t speak psych.’

  ‘It can be hard to explain.’

  ‘Try me,’ she said, jutting out her chin.

  He sighed and avoided her stare. ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder – DID – is about separate identities. They really are entirely different. Joseph is separate from Charlotte and his function is to cope with aspects of life the main identity can’t handle. In this case that main identity is Charlotte.’

  Madeleine stared at him. ‘You’ve got to be joking?’

  ‘Look, DID is extremely controversial, I know that, but hear me out. I believe that Charlotte’s mind has been hiding the truth, something from her past. Something traumatic.’

  Madeleine’s face was blank. ‘What truth?’

  Seaward shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what exactly, but I’d hazard a guess that it has something to do with her brother Miles.’

  ‘What has this got to do with this supposed Joseph and my investigation?’

  ‘When something traumatic happens to us, especially if it occurs in childhood, sometimes our body can build up a wall, something to shield us from the trauma. It’s like a coping mechanism. If that “safe” wall comes down, it can cause untold damage.’ He paused for effect. ‘It can fracture an unstable mind. Usually there’s a significant trigger for that.’

  Her face was stony. ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘Look at the timings of these murders. They all started after something traumatic happened to Charlotte.’

  She studied his face. ‘You mean her car accident?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Her car accident triggered Joseph?’

  ‘Not quite.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I believe Joseph has always been there. When this wall went up inside Charlotte, when Miles died, it essentially locked Joe out, put a barrier between them to help Charlotte cope with Miles’s death . . . until the car accident.’

  Madeleine screwed up her face, trying to make sense of what he was telling her.

  ‘I remember the case of Miles Hanshaw. He was . . . five years old, I think. Charlotte would’ve been eight. They were at a family barbecue, some house in the country. The kids were in the outdoor pool.’

  Seaward nodded. He remembered the headlines that summer.

  ‘Miles left their mother’s side. The next time he was seen was when he was face down in the pool,’ he said.

  Madeleine’s voice was grave when she spoke. ‘Found by Charlotte. She raised the alarm.’

  Seaward nodded.

  ‘Charlotte was supposed to be watching him,’ she said. ‘You think she blamed herself and couldn’t cope with what had happened?’

  ‘It’s feasible her mind put up this wall to stop her remembering what really happened that day and to help her cope.’

  She turned to face him then, another thought taking hold in her mind. ‘You say you believe Joseph has always been with her, though?’

  Seaward nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Before the accident?’

  Seaward’s mouth felt dry, and his face paled as he began to see where she was going with this. ‘Yes . . .’ he said, hesitant.

  ‘Doctor, by your own theory, Charlotte’s mind put up a brick wall after Miles drowned. If Joe has always been a part of her, then he was around when Miles died.’

  He closed his eyes, silently confirming what he was thinking too.

  ‘This side of Charlotte’s psyche is real, Inspector,’ he said at length.

  ‘You’re saying this Joseph is . . . what? Her evil side?’ she said, not quite believing the words she was saying out loud.

  ‘Not exactly. It’s her other identity. He is separate, Inspector, believe me.’

  ‘I’m struggling here, I’ll be honest.’

  Seaward ran his hand down his face, trying to think of how else to convince her.

  ‘Not everyone can agree if DID is real or not. I didn’t think it was until I treated a patient some ten years ago. She had DID. Her other identity was that of an old woman. That identity was harmless. Sometimes a patient knows the other identity exists; some hear a chatter inside their head; some, like Charlotte, hear nothing unless the other wants them to.

  ‘Some patients have complete amnesia. Some people have more than one identity inside them, all part of one core system. Charlotte, in this case, is the core system. These identities, they have their own different experiences, tastes, memories, personalities, appearances, ages . . . Joe told me yesterday that he’s blond, blue-eyed, six foot and eighteen years younger than Charlotte. He doesn’t age. He’s always been twenty-five years old.’

  He paused, watching Madeleine’s face.

  ‘I know how this must sound to you.’

  She pulled a face. ‘You think?’

  ‘Look, I don’t think Charlotte would ever hurt Miles.’

  ‘But Joe would?’

  ‘I think Joe came to the fore when Miles was born, because Charlotte was experiencing something new, a new sibling stealing her mother’s attention.’

  Madeleine paused, taking it all in. ‘This other patient you mentioned. Where is she now?’

  Seaward paused. ‘She’s in a secure hospital. She has been for ten years, but we believe this other identity she had left her some years ago.’

  ‘Why isn’t she out of hospital?’

  He looked sad. ‘She’s too vulnerable to leave.’

  Madeleine rolled her eyes. ‘I just . . . I just can’t get my head around this.’

  ‘Not everyone with diagnosed DID goes on to hurt others, Inspector. These people aren’t monsters. They are stigmatised by society’s perception of the illness. It’s seen in movies, TV… People think the
y are experts.’ He paused. ‘What we are seeing with Charlotte is extremely rare.’

  ‘But it’s not impossible for her other to be malicious, dangerous?’

  He shook his head.

  Madeleine looked away, trying to get her head around what he was saying. ‘When you spoke to Charlotte – or Joseph – just now, he said he kept her in the dark.’

  ‘I need to speak to Joe to help us understand everything,’ he said. ‘My guess is he can be made to leave, for want of a better word.’

  Madeleine scoffed, her scepticism creeping back in. ‘I’m a police officer, Doctor. Guesswork doesn’t allow me to charge anyone, let alone take a suspect to trial. Where the hell does this leave me and my investigation? I can’t touch her until you’re done kicking about in her head.’

  Seaward bristled at her words. ‘I’ve spent more years than I care to remember studying the human mind. Hear me out.’

  Madeleine folded her arms tight across her body, patience waning.

  ‘Charlotte has never been aware of Joe but he is more than aware that he exists in her. He just got locked out when Charlotte’s brother drowned. Joseph was trapped behind a wall. That would explain why, with Charlotte in control, there has been no other violent acts or blackouts for all these years, until six months ago.’

  Madeleine nodded. She understood what he was saying but wasn’t sure she could let herself believe it.

  ‘When Charlotte had the car accident, that brought down the wall, reminding her of the trauma of Miles’s death.’

  ‘Thus re-releasing Joseph back into what I like to call the light,’ Seaward said. ‘Charlotte still isn’t aware of Joe. What I do think, though, is that Joseph is holding back that full, complete memory of Miles and his death. He’s letting Charlotte see what he wants her to see. She might get flashes of memory but it won’t make any sense to her.’

  Madeleine looked at him, her face serious. ‘It doesn’t really make any sense to me and I’m the sane one.’

  ‘Look, I know it’s hard to make sense of, but we need to get Charlotte to confront Joseph and face the reality of what she’s done while Joe had control of her, as well as what really happened to Miles . . . Only then can we move forward.’