Louisa calls time out. She fears the questioning will trigger the appearance of another alter. Reluctantly, Valentina agrees to adjourn to a staff room down the corridor.
She bites her tongue while the clinician has her say on how and when the interviewing can continue.
‘So what do you suggest?’ Valentina asks impatiently. ‘We leave it another day? Because that’s just not going to happen.’
‘An hour. Or two. Let her feel comfortable and stable in her own state.’
‘I have a major criminal inquiry running. I really can’t make progress if you keep interrupting just as she starts to tell us what or who she’s frightened of.’
‘I know. I understand your situation, but my duty is to protect her mental health.’
‘And mine is to find the person or persons who dumped a body by a river, severed some woman’s hand and is clearly scaring your patient to the point of madness.’
‘I respect that. And while I’ll work with you to help clear up your crimes, I won’t do it at the risk of making a very disturbed patient even more traumatised.’ Louisa turns to Tom. ‘What was the prayer all about? What does it mean?’
‘It’s a plea for help, made straight to Christ.’
‘Aren’t all prayers?’ queries the clinician.
‘No, not at all. Some are to God the Father, some to angels, some to the Holy Ghost. There are different prayers, for different bodies and different purposes.’
‘And this one?’
‘It’s an intense one. One said personally and directly to Jesus at desperate times. When perhaps life is in peril or a big problem is being faced. It’s really a cry for faith to be fortified, and a declaration of repentance and devotion.’ Tom repeats its words in his head, then translates the end of the prayer: ‘With deep affection and grief, I reflect upon Thy five wounds, having before my eyes that which Thy prophet David spoke about Thee, O good Jesus: They have pierced my hands and feet, they have counted all my bones. Amen.’
The two women say nothing.
To Louisa, a proud atheist, the words are meaningless, while Valentina’s police training inevitably directs her beyond the elements of devotion, supplication and sacrifice and instead focuses on the key words pierced hands, five wounds and bones.
‘Strictly speaking,’ continues Tom, thoughtfully, ‘this should be said kneeling down in front of a crucifix. The prayer begins, “Behold, O good and most sweet Jesus, I fall upon my knees before Thee …” I guess if she hadn’t been so weak after the sedation and surgery, she’d have got out of bed and knelt.’
Valentina shakes her head. ‘It’s not that. Remember her apartment? All the crucifixes were on the ceiling, not the walls.’ She realises the full implication of her own thoughts and adds speculatively, ‘I think this is something that she would recite over and over in bed. I can easily imagine her lying there every night in the dark in that freaky Bible bed, looking up at the shadows of the hanging rosary beads and repeating this until she eventually falls asleep.’
Louisa’s still playing catch-up. ‘She was hoping this prayer would keep her safe throughout her sleep?’
‘She was banking on it,’ answers Tom. ‘But safe from what? The Virgin Mary? That just doesn’t make sense.’
‘In my experience, DID patients often don’t.’
‘She didn’t say Virgin Mary,’ observes Valentina. ‘She said Holy Mother. Is there a difference?’
Tom has to think. ‘Theologically — and pedantically — maybe. Mary was a virgin before she was chosen by God to carry Jesus. At this point she would not have been a mother.’
Louisa interrupts them. ‘I think you’re chasing down the wrong alleyway, or should I say church aisle.’
They look to her to elaborate.
‘I think she meant holy in a sarcastic way. As in her own mother — a mother so holy she’s always right and never does any wrong.’
Valentina sees her point. ‘Could be. You’re thinking she’s traumatised by parental abuse?’
‘It would fit the pattern for dissociative identity disorder.’
‘How?’
‘Long story. Let me try to explain. Briefly, one day Anna gets abused by her mother.’
‘Physically or sexually?’ asks Valentina.
‘Doesn’t matter. Certainly not for the sake of this example. Anyway, she’s shocked and hurt by the abuse. Mother starts to make the abuse routine; this stresses Anna, who develops a mechanism to cope with it. So next time Mother comes seeking her kicks, Anna dissociates.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She imagines that she’s somewhere else and that whatever horrible thing her mother is doing is not happening to her. It’s happening to some other kid. Someone tough enough to take it.’
Distressing as it sounds, Valentina can see the logic. ‘Go on.’
Louisa does. ‘So, when Mother turns up to routinely abuse Anna, Anna routinely sends out her alter-Anna, a stronger and more detached side of her, to cope with the abuse. The longer this goes on, the more permanent the alter-Anna, probably Little Suzie Fratelli, as we’ve come to know her, becomes.’
‘How do you explain the others?’ asks Tom. ‘Cassandra, the Roman victim; Suzanna Grecoraci, the mother of two children; and Claudia from the Sabines.’
‘Sometimes a second or third abuser — or different levels of abuse — enters the dimension, and therefore a second or third alter is needed. As layers of trauma are added, more layers of alters — protection — are necessary.’
Tom hasn’t bought totally into the theory. ‘I know child abuse is one of the horrors of our modern-day world, but isn’t it usually the father, not the mother, who’s the offender? And isn’t it highly unusual for a mother to sexually abuse her own daughter?’
Valentina interrupts. ‘Yes, but not unheard of. And remember, it can be a stepmother as much as a mother. There’s a famous case in Britain of a serial killer who abused her daughter sexually, physically and psychologically for years. She and the girl’s father even killed her sister and buried her under a patio.’ Louisa becomes practical. ‘As I said earlier, now that we have her real name, we’ll search all the local doctors’ records for any history of physical, mental or sexual abuse.’
‘We’ll do the same,’ counters Valentina. ‘We’ll trace her mother and father and search for criminal records, social reports, anything that suggests incest or sexual assault from neighbours or extended family.’
Tom says nothing. He’s lost in his thoughts. Thoughts that suggest what’s going on could be even more than child abuse.
64
Guilio Brygus Angelis is brought into the interview room with handcuffs around his wrists and chains around his ankles.
Federico Assante introduces himself, sets a voice recorder whirring, reads him his rights and sits back without saying anything.
He wants to take stock.
This is an unusual case, with unusual victims. Now he’s face to face with an unusual suspect.
Angelis looks slender and harmless.
Certainly no giant.
At a guess, he weighs in at less than eleven stone. That said, he’s not carrying any body fat, and his arms are rippling with sinewy muscles. He certainly keeps himself fit; no doubt with some form of fight training. Federico wonders if there’s even a special martial art for eunuchs, like there is for Shaolin monks.
He studies the guy’s face.
No eyebrows.
Amazing how one missing feature messes up your whole appearance.
No beard line either. It gives him a strange softness that male models have. Metrosexuality.
The goon has the skin of a ten-year-old boy. Federico runs fingers over his own stubbly beard. It would be great not to shave again.