‘It would,’ the doctor agreed. ‘But the answer to that question is “no”. There’s no chance that my bracelet fell from my wrist at the newsstand the morning before last, or anywhere else for that matter.’
Once again, Webb was about to ask Dr. Barnes a new question, when she lifted her hand, interrupting him.
‘How can I be so sure?’ she said.
Back came the impressed look. Webb decided that it was pointless trying to butt in, so he sat back on his chair and allowed her to continue in her own pace.
‘Because there’s no way I can go a whole day without this bracelet and not notice it, Detective. Every time I get nervous, or every time I’m thinking, pondering something, I twiddle with it.’ Her right hand automatically moved to her left wrist. ‘It’s an unconscious movement. I’ve been doing it for years, and on any given day I repeat the movement tens of times. I wouldn’t have gone half an hour without noticing that my bracelet was gone.’
Webb had noticed the movement at least a couple of times in the past few minutes and it hadn’t surprised him. Everybody he knew had a nervous tic. His was running his tongue against his top lip.
‘And last night,’ Dr. Barnes carried on, ‘as I was driving home, I specifically remember twiddling with it in the car, which brings us to my last “yes”. Yes, Detective Webb, I’m certain that the bracelet didn’t fall off my wrist inside my car. I had it on me when I got home last night. I had it on me when I went to bed, and I had it on my bedside table when I turned off the lights. I am one hundred percent sure of it. This morning, when I woke up, it wasn’t there.’
After over twenty years as a policeman, Webb had acquired a knack for summing people up at a glance, even better after spending a few minutes with them. Dr. Gwen Barnes appeared to be a very stable, intelligent, and grounded woman. She never raised her voice, regardless of mood. She was eloquent and, so far, all her arguments seemed to be based on very plausible and possible facts.
‘Not finding the bracelet this morning drove me insane,’ she added. ‘I looked for it everywhere, and I mean everywhere, Detective — under the bed, behind the bedside table, in the drawers, under rugs, in the living room, in the kitchen... you name it. Even in my car. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. I wracked my brain retracing my steps from last night, from the time I got home, to the time I went to bed, because I knew I had it on me when I opened my front door last night.’
Dr. Barnes paused for breath. Right about then, she could really do with a very large glass of wine.
‘And this morning was the first ever time that I was late for my first session of the day. I’m a psychiatrist, Detective Webb, I understand how the human brain works better than most. I’m fully aware that because night after night I go through the exact same motions just before turning off my bedroom light, i.e. placing all my jewelry on my bedside table, it’s very easy for my brain to be tricked into thinking that I did something, when in fact I didn’t. Repetitive actions can have that sort of effect on your brain, but I’m telling you, that’s not the case here.’
Webb ran his tongue against his top lip. ‘So you really do think that someone broke into your house last night, walked into your room while you were asleep, took away your bracelet, already with the intention of doing this.’ He jerked his chin in the direction of the note and the bracelet on the table. ‘And maybe even smelled your hair.’
‘I do, Detective, because I can’t see any other explanation.’
‘Did you notice any signs of a break-in?’ Webb asked.
Dr. Barnes let go of a breath so heavy with frustration, the air inside the interrogation room seemed to thicken.
‘I can’t be sure because I didn’t really check for any. I woke up this morning, I couldn’t find my bracelet, obviously my first thought wasn’t that someone had broken into my house.’
‘Your first thought was that maybe you had lost it,’ Webb pushed.
‘Yes,’ Dr. Barnes admitted in defeat.
Even Detective Webb had to take a deep breath. ‘OK,’ he tried again. He really did want to help her. ‘Before leaving the house this morning, can you remember if you found your door locked or unlocked?’
‘The front door was locked.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I’m sure. I remember unlocking it this morning. I didn’t check the back door, but it’s always locked.’
Webb was unsure of what else to say. Instead, it was Dr. Barnes who spoke again. Her next few words came out slowly and flooded with emotion.
‘Detective, I don’t really know what else I can tell you, but I know that I did not lose my bracelet.’
She folded her arms in front of her, as if all of a sudden the temperature inside the room had dropped a few degrees. That was the first time that Detective Webb saw Dr. Barnes display fear. Real fear.
‘Someone was in my room, Detective. I’m telling you. Someone was in there, by my bed, watching me while I slept.’
Thirty-Nine
As the screen on his cellphone faded to black, Mr. J felt his whole world collapse around him. His legs buckled under his weight and he had to hold on to the wall so as not to fall down. His fingers lost their grip and his phone slipped from his hand, bouncing off the bed and on to the floor. Nothing made sense. He felt as if his entire existence had just been devoured by a black hole, leaving behind nothing but an empty human shell.
‘What just happened?’ he whispered under his breath, his crazed eyes searching for refuge in every corner of his hotel room. They found none. Instead, the walls seemed to be closing in on him. ‘I must be losing my mind. This can’t be real. It just can’t be.’
Mr. J brought two shaking hands to his face and rubbed it as vigorously as he could.
The walls were still closing in on him.
He turned around and quickly made his way back into the bathroom, where he splashed more cold water on to his face.
‘Cassandra,’ he said, as he found his own eyes in the mirror, ‘this isn’t real.’ He tried to convince his reflection. ‘It isn’t. And I will prove it to you. None of it was real.’
Mr. J rushed back into the bedroom, fetched his cellphone from the floor, returned to the bathroom, and paused before the mirror again.
‘You’ll see. I’ll prove it to you right now,’ he said, shaking a finger at his reflection, before speed-dialing his wife’s number. ‘I don’t know what the hell this was, but it wasn’t real. None of it was. You’ll see.’
At the other end, instead of ringing, the call went straight into voicemail.
‘Hello, you’ve reached the phone of Cassandra Jenkinson. Unfortunately, I can’t—’
Mr. J disconnected and quickly redialed.
The reflection in the mirror waited.
‘Hello, you’ve reached the phone of Cass—’
Disconnected. Redialed.
‘Hello, you’ve reached—’
Disconnected.
Mr. J’s eyes reverted back to the mirror. His reflection was still waiting.
The house, a voice inside his head whispered. Call the house.
Mr. J speed-dialed his home number.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. The call finally connected.
‘Hello...’
Mr. J immediately recognized the voice at the other end of the line and it was as if his life had just been sucked out of him. It was his own. The answering machine had picked it up.
‘... you’ve reached the house of...’ He waited for the beep at the end of the message.