by Paul Charles
Kennedy, feeling he was about to receive the ‘long version’, settled back comfortably into the sofa. It wasn’t the same corner he’d occupied the day before, but the spot Coles had nabbed, which was closer to the electric fire.
‘Each year in this United Kingdom of ours, there are approximately three thousand suicides. Around four hundred and fifty of them take place in London and a third of the London total are women. Every single suicide is the act of a mind-tyrant. A little Napoleon lurks in there, ruling the roost and making decisions that are often against the person’s own interests. Though I’d have to say I wouldn’t be altogether sure in Esther’s case that a tyrant was actually in there.’ Watson clasped his hands in front of his chin and breaking his index fingers away from the clasp, he used them as a single pointer to caress his lips. His eyes, though none of the rest of his weather-beaten face, were smiling just as they had the previous day.
How does he do that, Kennedy wondered.
‘Let’s discuss suicide for a moment,’ Watson continued. ‘It’s a multi-faceted event which encompasses cultural, interpersonal, logical, biological, biochemical, philosophical, conscious and unconscious elements. But its fundamental nature is psychological. In simple terms, imagine you are a tree. These elements I’ve just mentioned would be the roots, the leaves, the branches, even the subtleties of the camouflage are an aspect to be considered. Now, unlike ourselves, a tree can’t think. There are no mental problems a tree can solve. It can die because it catches a…a whatyamacallit…a blight, or, someone cuts it when it’s young; or its roots can’t get a grip in the earth; problems like that. But if the tree could reason, say it suffered from psychological problems, then perhaps it would think – my roots aren’t strong enough to hold me up so I’m going to fall. So, if it thinks it’s going to fall, it does fall.’
Kennedy wasn’t entirely sure he was with the doctor on that one, amusing though the concept was.
The doctor seemed to see the scepticism, and he elaborated, ‘No, let me explain it another way. Dying is the only thing on this earth that men and women don’t have to do, they don’t have to arrange, we just stick around long enough and nature does it for us. But…’ Watson continued energetically, his eyes smiling again, ‘conversely, it is the only thing you must do. All of us have serious responsibilities in life – but there is only one responsibility from which we can’t hide, death! There are positively no “ifs” to death. The only questions are where, when and how? Suicide decides the time, the place and the method. It is the only type of death where the victim supplies you, the investigator, with the details required for the death certificate.’
Watson paused, as if to consider the weight of his own words. He turned to face Kennedy, looked him straight in the eyes and continued, ‘I’m telling you all of this because I want you to have a little understanding of what might have been going on in Esther Bluewood’s mind. If you can grasp that, then hopefully you’ll also understand my logic when I tell you what I learned from Esther’s journals.’
‘I’m with you so far, doctor. Or at least I think I am,’ Kennedy offered in encouragement.
‘Thinking you are is always a good start,’ Watson said, his entire face breaking into a complete smile. He looked over his right shoulder, repeating another of yesterday’s habits. ‘We are not encouraged to think much for ourselves. They tell us it’s better if they do our thinking for us… Anyway, back to suicide. With suicide the goals merge into one aim – escaping the turmoil, the pain. This escape is considered relief. That which is peace is desired above all else. By taking your own life you believe that the unbearable pain will become tranquillity. All your suffering will disappear. At least that’s what the suicidal person hopes.’
Again Watson paused, he looked unsure about what to say next. ‘I think it’s worth pointing out, though it’s obviously not entirely relevant to this case, that there are other occasions when we take our lives or…’ Watson nodded back over his right shoulder again, ‘when we may be encouraged to take our own lives by means of ideological methods: hara-kiri, suttee, seppuku and, more recently, by suicidal terrorism. But back to Esther Bluewood, let’s look at what people are trying to achieve when they commit suicide. They are looking for a solution. Suicide is never an accident, it is never committed without some hope in mind. It becomes an answer, invariably the only solution, to the problems of the suicide’s world.
‘To understand Esther’s earlier suicide attempt we simply need to look at her relationship, or lack of relationship, with her father. Now she fought hard to overcome this lack of love. All of the album that made her name was about starting over again. One of the songs was actually called “Resurrection”. And in terms of her life that’s what it’s all about. When her brother found her in the basement and she was taken away for treatment, she felt as though she’d started a new life. Now the great thing about Esther is…’ Watson stopped dead in his tracks, smiled a sad smile and dropped his eyes. ‘Forgive me.’ He paused for twenty-three ticks of the large clock on the mantelpiece, then sighed. ‘I meant to say, Esther was…the great thing about Esther was that she wasn’t naïve enough to think that her illness was cured and that she could then live happily ever after. She knew there was still a disease somewhere deep inside her and if she wasn’t aware of it, if she ignored it, it would eat away at her until eventually it would destroy her altogether. “New Way, New Day”, again a song from that album, examines exactly that.’
‘So her songwriting would have helped her come to terms with her unhappiness?’ Kennedy asked, trying to get a proper grasp.
‘Perhaps. They say there’s always a great song at the end of a teardrop. In Esther’s case her songwriting certainly gave her a voice through which she could articulate and exorcise her demons. It wasn’t exactly that writing songs cured her – it was that the songs are the diary of her need for help, her cry for help, her acceptance of help, her own help as well as the help of others. She became an important person in her own life again. At the time of her death she was in charge of her life. She was successful, she was in a non-competitive situation. That’s one of Paul Yeats’ qualities. Although he’s a fellow artist, he saw the greatness in her work. He wasn’t threatened by it. The opposite in fact, he was extremely supportive and generous with his time and praise. In her eyes, Paul loved her and, as a fellow artist, he loved her work. He wasn’t in the least bit jealous.’
‘But they were about to split…’ Kennedy paused to correct himself. ‘Hadn’t they already split up?’
Again Watson offered another generous eye smile. Kennedy couldn’t figure out if the doctor’s smiles were of encouragement or reproachment. ‘You see, the thing about Esther was that she was ill. She was aware of her illness, she wanted to deal with it, and she was dealing with it. She also recognised illness in others.’
‘What? Yeats was ill as well you mean, like Esther?’ Kennedy asked.
‘No, no, no, nothing like that. Well, in point of face he was a compulsive womaniser. When she met him he was with another woman. She went around to their…their thingamabob…their flat, yes, their flat, in response to an advert. She went around to his flat with the aim of renting a room. They fell in love and the then girlfriend was cast aside for Esther. Perhaps, as an older-looking man, he was replacing her father. Although I personally doubt that. I think she’d already dealt with her father’s rejection by that point. But the honest answer is, we’ll never know and it certainly didn’t do any harm for him to take up that role, if that’s what he did. Unfortunately though, he in turn met someone else and the process repeated itself, this time with Esther being the one cast aside in favour of a newer model. I’m not sure she felt it was entirely over though. It was certainly unresolved and that which is unresolved is never over. Esther reports him as saying something about their growing old together. And he probably meant that. Now, we don’t know the politics of the relationship between Paul and his new girlfriend and how that might make him think about and deal with
Esther. Some women never come to terms with their partner’s ex, they are forever seeking signs of preference, but for this conversation that needn’t concern us. Let’s talk about the emotions involved in suicide…’
Kennedy, like a dutiful student, mentally opened a new page.
Watson continued, ‘The dominant emotion in suicide is helplessness, the feeling of being useless, hopeless. The feeling that the only way out is suicide. Looking through Esther’s notes, I don’t think she felt any such emotion. She wasn’t overjoyed with life but she was in charge of it. She was successful. She had a very comfortable income drawn from her art, and that generated a very satisfying feeling of fulfilment.’
‘I can see that,’ Kennedy said, recalling ann rea’s satisfaction with money earned from her freelance writing.
‘Okay. Now we come to ambivalence. People who commit suicide claim they don’t care whether they live or die. “What’s the difference whether I live or die?” they’ll say. “I’d be better off dead.” Now there have been some very literal suicide victims over the years and they have left a very elegant trail of words, and so, in some instances, suicide might even appear to be attractive. But my point would have to be that people who want to commit suicide do so in order that they can enjoy a better “life”. That which is without turmoil is preferable,’ Watson continued, the lecture now in full flow.
‘Sorry, can we stop there for just a minute? I was with you, pretty much up to that point,’ Kennedy said, intrigued by Watson’s latest remark. ‘People want to commit suicide because they want to enjoy a better “life”. Surely that’s a contradiction?’
‘Yes, if you look at it literally. But let’s look at it from another perspective. Someone is suffering considerable turmoil. Their life is a complete misery due to intense psychological pain. They experience an overwhelming desire to escape the pain and the pressure. They want release. They want to feel better. They want to enjoy their lives just like the people around them do. In their minds, their mental pain is much greater than any physical pain their friends or colleagues might suffer. So, why do they want to commit suicide? Simple. They want to commit suicide because they want to feel better. In other words they want a better “life”, don’t you see?’ Watson proclaimed. He continued in a sadder tone, ‘Suicide is a very lonely act and always an unnecessary act. There are ways to heal yourself and enjoy a better life.’
‘How?’ Kennedy asked simply.
‘By asking for help, that’s how. In many ways a suicide attempt is exactly that, a cry for help. Yes, there is medication and, don’t get me wrong, medication is vitally important, but equally important is therapy. Getting to the root of the problem by asking the right questions. “Where are you hurting?” “Can you describe your turmoil?” And so on. The objective being to work out exactly what the problems are and to show that, perhaps, suicide is not the only answer. It all sounds very simple, but you’ve got to show people that suicide is not the only route available, that it’s not the only way out. By focusing on the problem, you can broaden the range of options available to them. Again, from reading her journals, I have to tell you Esther was most definitely not in that corner when she died. She was dealing with her problems in an adult fashion. She wasn’t running from them. Far from it, in point of fact, she was prepared to endure the pain of a divorce in order to deal with her situation with Paul Yeats.’
‘Do you really think she’d have gone ahead with a divorce?’ Kennedy asked.
‘Who knows? She might just have been shooting a warning shot over his bows. He was always saying that they were going to grow old together and maybe she wanted to call his bluff, to let him know she wasn’t going to hang around while he continued having his affairs. She writes in her journal that she didn’t consider herself to have been unfaithful to Paul when she went with Josef—’
‘But surely—’ Kennedy cut Watson off, only to be cut off mid-sentence himself.
‘She never cheated on their love. She never stopped loving him and she believed that he had never stopped loving her. In her mind’s eye, they were both seeking physical release elsewhere. But that’s exactly how we considered it, you’ve read her words. “Josef didn’t require batteries”, or words to that effect. But back to the point I was making. At this juncture in her life, Esther Bluewood was in charge. A second common trait of suicide is the prior communication of intention. People communicate their intentions, dropping subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, hints to friends and colleagues. They attempt to seek professional help. Again, nothing like this from Esther and don’t forget she had attempted suicide once before, and she’d marked herself, cut herself very badly. In fact, her mother, brother and friends were concerned about her. On that occasion when she attempted suicide she could just as easily have gone into the forest and cut her wrists and no one would ever have found her, at least not until after she was long dead. But she didn’t, she chose the basement of her family home. I personally think if Esther had intentions on her own life, those around her would have been aware of it. People who are intent on committing suicide behave abnormally – they don’t know how to live otherwise. Stands to reason, they’ve never done it before – successfully. Medical doctors, colleagues of mine, have told me that people who are in the final stages of a fatal disease, cancer for instance, behave normally over the final few weeks or months, even with an exaggerated normality, if you know what I mean. But with suicide cases, well, there’s an inherent need to survive. So, by their actions they will betray themselves, or betray their intentions. There were no such signs from Esther. She knew the pain could be reduced by psychotherapy yet she never sought it. She knew that as well as reducing the pain, psychotherapy would help her see clearly again, would dissolve her cloud of mental anguish and lighten the pressure on her. At such times, a little help can bring salvation.’
Watson paused again and Kennedy found the doctor staring into his eyes, as if challenging him. It was quite unnerving.
‘You don’t believe she committed suicide, either, do you?’ the doctor asked.
‘No. I don’t,’ Kennedy replied truthfully. ‘What made you ask that?’
‘Well,’ Watson began, and his entire face broke into a generous smile, ‘I see you sitting here, watching me, listening to me intently, never moving a muscle, except that is for continuously flexing the fingers of your right hand, wanting me…no, willing me to prove to you that Esther Bluewood did not commit suicide. You want so badly for her not have committed suicide. Why is that?’
Kennedy described the sad scene back at the Bluewood maisonette with Jens and Holmer, hand in hand, looking down at their dead mother.
‘I can’t believe she would have killed herself if she thought there was the slightest chance she could have done harm to her children or if there was a chance they might have seen her body.’
‘Fair point, but I should point out to you that when people are intent on committing suicide, they sometimes feel that they will be doing their children a favour by getting out of their lives. You see, they are so preoccupied with their own pain that simple logic is forgotten. Professor Edwin Shneidman has the view that suicide stems from such a deep psychological pain. He believes that when pain comes from frustrated psychological needs, those needs are of mental, rather than organic, origins. He tells us that suicide is prevented by changing our perception of the situation and by redefining that which is unbearable. Esther, in my mind, had long since mastered this.’
Kennedy felt the doctor’s tone implied that he was starting to wind up.
‘There is a need to belong. She belonged,’ Watson continued, raising his thumb. ‘There is a need to be loved. She was loved.’ Watson raised his forefinger. ‘She mentions it in her journal. She felt her children loved her unconditionally. She was aware of the loyalty and commitment of her fans, a different kind of love, I know, but a love nonetheless, and a love which will bear one gladly upon its shoulders. Paul Yeats, she thought, had many faults, one main fault, in fact, but deep
down she believed he loved her in his own way. In her journal she concedes he was the bridge over which she walked from troubled waters back to dry land.’ Watson raised another finger to emphasise his third point. ‘Esther made no cry for help. Neither did she feel helpless. She certainly cared about whether she lived or died. As we’ve already discussed, there was no apparent heightening psychological pain and certainly none is evident in her journal. She sought to solve her mental problems.’
By this time Watson had stopped counting.
‘I would have to tell you, Inspector Kennedy, that there is not a shred of evidence available to me to suggest that Esther Bluewood committed suicide.’
Chapter 14
A FEW minutes later, Kennedy was walking across his beloved Primrose Hill, going over Dr Hugh Watson’s words in his mind.
As he reached Magpie Corner, he spotted two magpies.
One for sorrow, two for joy. He took this as a positive sign. A sign that perhaps the spirits of Primrose Hill were happy that Esther Bluewood’s death was going to receive a full investigation. She deserved nothing less.
He could see the beginnings of a small crowd milling around the corner of Regent’s Park Road and Fitzroy Road. Possibly fans on a pilgrimage to pay their respects, to voice their disbelief and to take comfort in the fact that others were feeling the pain as much as they were. ann rea certainly was taking Esther’s death very badly. ann rea, being ann rea, and honest to a fault, would never have claimed to have been a friend of Esther Bluewood, but Esther had felt comfortable enough to have invited ann rea around to her maisonette a few times.
