Therapy (15 page)

‘Yes.’

No, not really, it's not all right at all
.

‘One last thing. What happened? How did she die?’

‘She was poisoned. Anna Glass was poisoned.’

Viktor dropped the receiver and stared out of the window. Nothing but darkness, impenetrable darkness.

Like the darkness overhead.

29

Later, when he developed nausea, diarrhoea and blurred vision, he could no longer ignore the evidence that he had contracted something more serious than a cold. None of his usual remedies – aspirin, vitamin C, and throat spray – seemed to be having much effect. And his beloved Assam tea, far from soothing his sore throat, was actually making it worse. In fact, the bitter aftertaste was getting stronger with every cup, leading him to wonder if he had forgotten to strain the pot.

The beginning of the end coincided with Anna's penultimate visit to the house. She turned up unannounced that afternoon while he was napping fitfully. Still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown, he dragged himself to the door.

‘Are you still feeling poorly?’ she enquired straightaway.

He wondered how long she had been knocking. In his dream, a pneumatic drill had been going for some time before he realized that it was someone at the door.

‘I'm just a bit under the weather. I thought we arranged to talk this evening?’

‘We did. Don't worry, I won't disturb you. I just dropped by to give you this.’

On seeing that she was holding something, he opened the door a little further and was shocked to see that Anna looked a mess. There was almost nothing left of the smart, attractive young woman who had appeared in his sitting room four days earlier. She hadn't brushed her hair, and her blouse looked creased. Her eyes were flicking nervously back and forth while she drummed her long slim fingers on a brown manila envelope that she was clutching with both hands.

‘What's that?’

‘The end of the book – the final ten chapters describing everything I went through with Charlotte. It was playing on my mind, so I decided to write the story again from memory.’

When? At half past three in the morning, after breaking into my house? Or four hours later, when you called me at home?

She ran a hand over the envelope, smoothing the package lovingly as if it were a gift.

Viktor hesitated. His good sense advised him not to let Anna into the house.

She's dangerous
.

The evidence so far was damning: Anna Glass wasn't who she claimed to be. He knew for a fact that her name belonged to a student who had been poisoned at the Park. But this woman, whoever she was, held the key to Josy's disappearance. If he didn't seize his chance, he
might never answer the questions that were driving him to distraction.

And since he was desperate to know who she was and why she thought they had ‘unfinished business’, he decided to ask her whatever he wanted. It didn't matter anymore if she clammed up or stormed out because she had already given him the final chapters of Charlotte's story.

‘Wait,’ he said quickly, opening the door fully. ‘Why don't you come in for a moment? You must be frozen out there.’

‘Thanks.’ Anna shook the rain out of her long blonde hair and stepped nervously into the warmth.

He ushered her into the sitting room while he lingered in the hall. As soon as he was alone, he opened the bottom drawer of the bureau, took out Halberstaedt's package and ran his fingers over the crumpled paper. The string fell away as the knot came free.

‘Could I possibly have a cup of tea?’

Viktor stood up sharply and dropped the half-opened package. Anna was standing in the corridor. She had taken off her coat and was wearing black trousers with a sheer slate-grey blouse that was buttoned all wrong.

‘Of course,’ he said, taking a handkerchief out of the drawer and closing it quickly. As far as he could tell, she hadn't noticed what was in the parcel.

After steering her back into the sitting room, he hurried to the kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later with the tea. He was feeling so drained that carrying a
full pot seemed downright impossible, so he had only filled it halfway.

‘Thank you.’

Anna barely seemed to notice him and didn't appear in the least surprised when he stopped to mop the sweat from his brow before stumbling to his desk.

‘I should probably get going,’ she said as soon as he sat down.

‘But you haven't touched your tea!’

He slipped the first sheet out of the envelope and read the title:
The Passage
.

To his surprise, it was a laser-printed manuscript. She had obviously brought her laptop with her and talked Trudi, the proprietor of the Anchor, into letting her use the printer in the office.

‘Please, Dr Larenz, I really can't stay.’

‘OK, I'll read the manuscript later,’ he said, shoving the page clumsily into the envelope. ‘But while you're here, I'd like to ask you about last night. What—’ He looked up at Anna and stopped short.

There was definitely something the matter. Anna's eyes were fixed nervously on the ceiling and she was clenching her fists. Whatever was raging inside her seemed determined to get out. He desperately wanted to know whether she had broken into his house and why she had lied about her name, but he knew it would be irresponsible to bother her in her present state. No matter how much he wanted some answers, there could be no justification for precipitating a psychotic episode in a patient who
needed his help. At last he decided to tackle the reason she had come to him in the first place: her schizophrenia.

‘How long have you got?’ he asked gently.

‘Till the next episode?’

‘Yes.’

‘A day? Twelve hours? I don't know. The symptoms are there already,’ she said in a strained voice.

‘Colours?’

‘Yes, everything around me is brighter, more intense. It looks as if someone has varnished the trees and turned the sea a deep, shiny blue. I can hardly bear to look away; it's so incredibly radiant, even in the rain. And the smell is fabulous too. I can smell the salt in the air. It's like everything is steeped in the most wonderful perfume and no one can smell it except me.’

It was roughly what Viktor had expected her to say, but it was sobering all the same. He couldn't say for sure whether Anna was dangerous, but she was definitely ill. And dealing with a schizophrenic patient in the grip of a delusion was no joke – especially on an island in the middle of nowhere.

‘Any voices?’

Anna shook her head. ‘No, but it's only a matter of time. I'm a textbook schizophrenic: heightened colours, imaginary voices, then the visual hallucinations. At least I won't have to worry about seeing Charlotte this time.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because Charlotte won't be coming back. She's gone for good.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘You'll know if you read the manuscript. I—’

Viktor wasn't able to hear the rest because the telephone rang and Anna fell silent.

‘What happened to Charlotte?’ he persisted.

‘You should answer the phone, Dr Larenz. I've resigned myself to it ringing while I'm here. Besides, I wasn't intending to stay.’

‘I can't let you go. You're on the brink of another episode; you need help.’

And I need some answers. What happened to Charlotte?

‘Stay right here,’ he instructed her. Anna stared at the floor, rubbing her index finger nervously against her thumbnail. Viktor noticed that the cuticle was red raw. She obviously had a nervous tick.

‘Fine, I'll stay for a bit,’ she agreed. ‘But stop that awful ringing.’

30

He answered the phone in the kitchen.

‘I was beginning to think you were out,’ said Kai impatiently. ‘You're never going to believe what happened.’

‘Hang on a second,’ whispered Viktor, placing the receiver on the work surface next to the sink. He pulled off his slippers and crept, barefoot, into the hall, talking loudly as if he were on the phone.

‘Yes . . . Really? . . . All right . . . Leave it to me.’

Peering into the sitting room, he was relieved to see that Anna was sitting exactly where he had left her.

‘OK, we can talk,’ he said when he was back in the kitchen.

‘She's not there, is she?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought we had an agreement.’

‘She turned up on the doorstep, and I couldn't exactly turn her away. It's not safe to be outside in this weather. Anyway, I thought you wanted to tell me something?’

‘A fax arrived at the office today.’

‘Who from?’

‘I don't know. I'd like you to take a look at it.’

‘What does it say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You're ringing to tell me that you received a blank fax?’

‘I didn't say it was blank. There's no message; just a picture.’

‘A picture? What's it got to do with me?’

‘I think it's from your daughter. I think Josy drew it.’

Trembling, Viktor leant back against the fridge and closed his eyes.

‘When?’

‘When what?’

‘When did you get the fax?’

‘About an hour ago. It was sent directly to me. Only a handful of people know my private number.’

Viktor took a deep breath and ended up coughing again. ‘I don't know what to make of it.’

‘Do you have a fax machine at your end?’

‘It's on the desk in the sitting room.’

‘Great. I'll fax it through in ten minutes. In the meantime, get that woman out of the house. I'll call back in a bit so you can tell me what you think.’

Viktor reeled off his fax number and hung up.

As soon as he was in the hall, he saw that the door to the sitting room was closed. Cursing inwardly, he immediately suspected that Anna had done another disappearing act. He yanked the door open and heaved a sigh of relief. Anna was still there. She was standing at the desk with her back to him.

‘Hello again,’ he said in a voice so hoarse that it was barely a whisper.

His relief gave way to horror. Anna hadn't heard him come in: she still had her back to him and was stirring white powder into his tea.

31

‘Get out of my house!’

Anna turned round slowly and looked at him blankly.

‘Goodness me, Doctor, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Is something wrong?’

‘Wrong? My tea has tasted bitter for days, I've been feeling wretched ever since you came to the island, and now I know why!’

‘For heaven's sake, Dr Larenz, you're going to make yourself ill. Calm down and take a seat.’

‘Of course I'm ill! You've been spiking my tea with . . . Well, you tell me!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘What the hell have you been putting in my tea?’ bellowed Viktor. The words seemed to scrape against the inside of his throat, making his voice quiver hysterically.

‘Pull yourself together,’ she said briskly.

‘WHAT'S IN MY TEA?’

‘Paracetamol.’

‘Paracetamol?’

‘Yes, it's great for colds.’ She opened her grey designer handbag. ‘See for yourself. I had such an ordeal with Charlotte that I never leave home without it.’ She
paused. ‘You looked so awful that I wanted to help. I was going to tell you before you drank it, but then . . . Oh heavens, you didn't think I was trying to poison you, did you?’

Viktor was thinking all sorts of things, but he didn't know what to believe.

His dog had disappeared, and he himself was suffering from diarrhoea, a temperature and myalgia – classic symptoms of a viral infection.
Or poison
. Cough medicine and painkillers didn't seem to help.

And two people had warned him independently about Anna.

Be careful; she's dangerous
.

‘Look,’ said Anna, showing him her cup. ‘I put paracetamol in mine as well. I thought it might do us some good. I'd hardly want to poison myself, would I? I've drunk a few sips already.’

Viktor stared at her, aghast. He was still too agitated to find the right words. ‘What am I supposed to think?’ he shouted. ‘None of it makes any sense! Why the hell would you break into my house in the middle of the night? What would you want with a weapon? Why would anyone buy fishing twine and a carving knife from the hardware store? What did I ever do to you?’

It occurred to Viktor that the accusations would be ludicrous if they weren't completely true. ‘You even lied about your name!’

‘I'm afraid you've lost me, Dr Larenz. Do you think
I've got some kind of grudge against you, is that the problem?’

‘You tell me! According to Michael Burg, we've got “unfinished business”!’

‘Are you feverish?’

Of course I'm bloody feverish. Isn't that your intention?

‘I haven't said a word to Burg since he ferried me over.’ Now Anna was losing her temper too. ‘I don't know what you're talking about!’

She stood up and smoothed her trousers.

Someone was lying. Either Halberstaedt had made it up or Anna wasn't telling the truth.

‘Fine,’ she said furiously. ‘If that's your opinion of me, we may as well end our sessions here.’

For the first time since their therapy started, Anna was beside herself with rage.

She grabbed her coat and bag and barged past him. Then she stopped in the hall and charged back in. Before Viktor could stop her, she took her revenge in the worst possible way.

Snatching the manila envelope from the desk, she hurled it into the fireplace. The paper went up in flames.

‘No!’

Viktor wanted to sprint across the room, but couldn't muster the strength to take a single step.

‘Why should you care about my story? You won't be seeing me again!’

‘Stop!’ he shouted after her, but Anna marched out
without looking back. The front door slammed behind her.

Anna Glass was gone for good – and with her any chance of finding out what had happened to Josy. The truth was smouldering in the fireplace, escaping through the chimney in a column of black smoke.

32

Groaning, Viktor dropped on to the couch.

What was going on? What was happening on the island?

He drew up his knees and hugged his shins.

Oh God.

He was sweating furiously and his old friend Mr Shivers had returned.