Vogel nodded his agreement. He did not mention that his early childhood had also not been entirely straightforward.
‘Well, with Jane Ferguson, it seemed almost as if she had been born aged five or six,’ Dr Thorpe continued. ‘That was the most curious thing about the session. I kept pushing the point. And I think I may have pushed too hard. Suddenly she started to scream, uncontrollably, just the way she described doing when she experienced one of her nightmares.
‘I brought her around straight away, of course. She was white as a sheet and trembling like a leaf. Then she just leaned over and was sick on the floor by the side of the couch.’
Dr Thorpe waved a hand in the general direction of her consulting couch.
‘I have actually never witnessed such an extreme reaction to regressive therapy, although I have read about it,’ the doctor went on. ‘I gave her water to drink, and called the practice nurse in. I was very anxious about her condition, obviously.
‘But she made quite a quick recovery. Superficially at any rate. After just a couple of minutes she swung her legs over the side of the couch and sat up. “How silly of me,” she said. I shan’t forget that, in a hurry. Particularly now that her life has ended so... so violently. “How silly of me.”
‘Anyway, I reassured her that it wasn’t silly at all. That she’d clearly had an extreme reaction to something she remembered whilst under hypnosis. She didn’t respond at all to that. I asked her if she could remember what it was, if she could remember what had been in her mind when she’d started to scream.
‘She said that she couldn’t remember a damned thing. Again, her exact words. “I don’t remember a damned thing.”’
‘Is that usual?’ asked Vogel. ‘Or would you expect a patient to remember the experiences they relived whilst under hypnosis, or certainly the more extreme or significant elements?’
‘It varies, Mr Vogel. Regressive therapy is not an exact science. I had no reason at all to doubt that Jane was telling me the truth.
‘Anyway, I was clearly going to get no further with her that day, and it may well have been dangerous to try. I was anxious about her leaving alone, so I suggested we call her husband and get him to come and pick her up. She was adamant that she didn’t want to do that. She said she had already caused him enough anxiety, and she was going to be just fine.
‘I did insist that she sat down and rested for a while before driving home. She agreed to that, and the nurse took her into the waiting room and made her a cup of tea. I saw her again, briefly, before she left. About forty-five minutes later, when I had finished with my next patient. She seemed to have recovered well. She apologized profusely for having been sick on my floor, and said she really had no idea what had come over her. She even tried to make a bit of a joke of it. She said, “Well, you won’t forget me now, my mum used to say I’d do anything to be the centre of attention.” Then she made an appointment for the following week, and left.’
‘When you saw her again, did you attempt another session of regression therapy?’
‘I never did see her again, DCI Vogel. She failed to keep her next appointment and never made another one. We wrote to no avail, and tried calling her, of course. But she didn’t pick up.’
‘How long ago was that, doctor?’
Miriam Thorpe glanced at her screen again.
‘Just under five weeks.’
‘I see. May I ask, if you were so anxious, why didn’t you do something about it, doctor? Contact her husband, perhaps?’
‘I wanted to. But we are bound by such strict rules of confidentiality nowadays. We are not allowed to contact any third party concerning a patient, not even a husband or wife. I wish I had done so now, of course.’
Vogel was thoughtful as he and Saslow walked to the car.
‘I think we’d better look into Jane Ferguson’s background ourselves, don’t you, Saslow?’ asked Vogel. ‘Starting with giving our Felix another grilling. I’m beginning to believe more and more that the key to all this lies in Jane’s past.’
‘Yes, boss,’ replied the young officer. ‘But everything Dr Thorpe told us would be more relevant if Jane had killed herself. And we now know ninety-nine point nine per cent that she was murdered.’
‘There was a deliberate attempt to make her murder look like suicide, which could easily have been accepted, particularly in view of her medical history. And, after finding that hangman’s fracture at the top end of Jane Ferguson’s spine, a lot of pathologists not as meticulous as Karen Crow mightn’t have looked much further.’
‘Really, boss?’ queried Saslow. ‘With that old bruising indicative of domestic abuse surely any pathologist’s suspicions would be aroused? To me what’s surprising is that the murderer wouldn’t realize that.’
‘Good point, Saslow. But all the old injuries, apart from the bruising and the healed wound on her face, were on parts of Jane’s body which would normally be covered by her clothing. Perhaps the murderer didn’t know about it.’
‘Her husband would have known about it though, surely, boss? He certainly would if he’d inflicted it. And Felix Ferguson is our principle suspect in all of this, and will remain so until we have evidence to indicate otherwise. In spite of what you told him this morning.’
‘Absolutely right, Saslow,’ said Vogel. ‘But even spouses and partners remain innocent until proven guilty. And there’s only one thing I’m getting more and more sure of, Saslow, concerning this case. I think almost nothing about it is quite how it seems. We are going to be opening up a real can of worms. Nobby is obviously quite sure of that. All we can do is take it step by step.’
‘We’re going to need to talk to those children some time, boss, aren’t we?’ said Saslow. ‘Probably formally. Maybe one of them, particularly Joanna, saw something more than we know already.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ agreed Vogel. ‘And the nearest children’s suite is at Exeter, I expect. I’m going to hold off for a day or two, though, Dawn. See if we can clear this up without dragging them off there and causing them any more distress than necessary. Next step, let’s go back to Bay View Road and seek out Felix Ferguson again. We can start by finding out exactly what he does and doesn’t know about his wife’s background and early life.
‘Oh, and we can tell him that we are now officially upgrading the investigation into Jane’s death to a murder enquiry. That should take him out of his comfort zone.’
Eleven
As Vogel and Saslow had expected, Felix was still at his parents’ house.
Again, Mrs Ferguson senior answered the door to All Seasons and ushered Saslow and Vogel into the big living room, albeit not with very good grace.
Felix was lying on the floor, playing with his children. He seemed unaware that anyone had entered the house and was laughing as the two officers entered. His children seemed in surprisingly high spirits. A good game was obviously going on.
‘You’re cheating, Daddy, you’re cheating,’ cried little Stevie Ferguson, as his sister attempted to climb on her father’s back.
‘No, I’m not, you are,’ countered Felix, still laughing.
Then he looked up and saw Vogel and Saslow.
He stopped laughing immediately. The light faded from his eyes.
‘What do you want now?’ he asked, his voice gruff.
‘I’m afraid we have some more questions for you, sir,’ said Vogel mildly.
‘Look, you’ve already given me the third degree once today,’ responded Felix tetchily. ‘Surely you don’t have to do it again. Not now. You can see I’m spending time with my children, and I’m sure you realize how important that is right now. I want to get everything back to normal for them, as soon as possible.’