‘Did you get these presents because you were just a good girl or did you have to do something for them?’
‘Yes I had to do it, Monday, Wednesday and Sunday after chapel.’
‘What were you made to do?’
‘Oh I can’t tell you, I never can tell anyone, and it’s a secret.’
‘Why is it a secret?’
‘Because no one must ever know or I will die, and I know this is true because he told me with my hand on the Bible.’
‘Who told you?’
‘Oh no, you can’t trap me, I have to obey the rules.’
‘How long did you have to obey the rules, Lena?’
‘Mind your own business, you dirty fucking bastard, you try and trap me and I will make you sorry, you listen to me or I will cut your dick off.’
Reid sat back, his jaw open, as the voice Lena had adopted was guttural and coarse. Jackson was equally disturbed, but he refused to even acknowledge that he was suddenly hearing another one of the personalities emerge.
‘Who am I talking to, Lena?’
‘The boss, you motherfucker, I am the boss and I will not have her upset, or asked any more questions about her bastard father, you hear me? He is long dead. You had better not ask any more questions about the way he came into her room and screwed her up the arse.’
‘Is this for real?’ Jackson whispered and Reid declined to answer. Even though he was aware that Lena had been abused, seeing the effect on her made his whole body tense with repulsion, but what came next was even more shocking.
Cornwall had moved on to her teenage years and another character emerged, flirtatious and sexual. She giggled, explaining in a lisping voice that she had managed to lock her father out of her bedroom and he had been weeping and crying to be allowed in, and she would make him kiss her feet and lick them clean.
‘I trod in dog shit so he would have to lick it off.’ She shrieked with laughter.
Cornwall laughed with her, gently encouraging her to tell him who he was now talking to, and she said that it was nobody. She suddenly sat upright and shouted that she should be careful or she would tell them about her mother.
‘Don’t you dare ask her about her mother!’ It was the ‘Boss’ character again.
Lena flopped back, exhausted, as Cornwall signalled for a glass of water. He remained silent, sipping it as she began to curl her legs up and wrap her arms around her knees. He sensed, as he had anticipated, that Lena was beginning to tire and they had not even touched on the poisoning or any details about her daughter.
‘Oh God, please, Daddy, don’t make me do it, please…’
‘What is he making you do, Lena?’
It was hard to determine which character she had become; she seemed exhausted and had started crying again. Cornwall persisted, repeating his question, and she began to make a strange motion with her hands as if washing them, and her face turned from tears into a grimace of distaste.
‘Smell, she smells, horrible smell, she smells out the whole house.’
She persisted in the wringing motion, and her face grimaced as if she were smelling something hideous.
‘Who is it that is making this smell, Lena?’
‘Mother, it’s mother, the cancer, I have to wash her cancer out, and feed her. I hate to do it, but he refused to let anyone else take care of her because they might find out.’
The odd wringing motion took over again; she seemed to be trying to clean her hands, and her face was twisted with disgust, and then there was a low moaning and she began crying even more loudly than before. She turned over with her face buried in the pillow as she sobbed; her hands were clenched into fists as she pummelled the mattress.
‘Sorry, Mummy, sorry, Mummy, sorry, Mummy.’
Cornwall leaned closer and his voice was hardly audible as he asked why she was sorry as she had been a good girl taking care of her mother. He told her there was nothing to be sorry about as her mother had been very ill.
Lena slowly turned over and once again it was the coarse voice that came out. ‘I stuffed it into her mouth, you dumb bastard, I STUFFED IT INTO HER MOUTH.’
Cornwall leaned away from her, as her breathing became erratic and her chest heaved as she gasped for air. The nurses moved closer, concerned at the state of panic she was in.
‘Take deep breaths, in and out, breathe in, and breathe out, that’s a good girl, I am right beside you, nothing you are telling me disgusts me or makes me not care for you.’
She sighed and slowly her breathing returned to normal. He took hold of her hand and checked her pulse, then gently rinsed out a cloth and began to wipe her face.
‘I am so tired,’ she said quietly.
‘I know, and we will stop now and you can have some nice soup and then a long sleep. You have done very well, you are a good girl.’
Cornwall told the nurses to leave them and brought Lena round from her hypnotic state. She clearly didn’t remember or have a clue what had just happened in the room and told Cornwall that she felt as if she had been out on a lovely walk along a beach on a warm summer’s day. Cornwall said that she had, because that was where he had taken her subconscious mind as therapy for her problems. Lena thanked him and Cornwall said he’d get a nurse to help her to her room, but she was insistent that she make her own way there.
Jackson was on his feet, angrily gesturing towards the window. ‘He can’t fucking stop now – he hasn’t even asked her about her daughter. Jesus Christ, this is not acceptable.’
The door opened, Cornwall entered and came over to Jackson, pushing at his chest. ‘She cannot continue; as I said this will require more sessions, and as you just witnessed the emotional stresses she’s been through have exhausted her.’
Jackson stepped back, jerking his head from side to side.
‘In the meantime, Professor Cornwall, what do you expect us to do? We suspect her of murder, multiple ones at that. Dear God, we just heard her admit to stuffing her dying mother’s mouth with Christ only knows what!’
Cornwall somehow managed to maintain his dignity and control as he said that for him it had been a very positive session, and one that gave him and anyone with any sense of propriety an indication of Lena Fulford’s condition. Clearly her sexual abuse for such a lengthy period, from an eightyear-old to a teenager, had triggered the need to protect herself by forcing her mind to split into multiple identities. Added to the abuse by her father, she had also, he was certain, been encouraged to end her mother’s life. The emergence of the strident identity was covering her deep guilt at what she had done.
Jackson became less aggressive, even slightly apologetic, as he said that he understood, but it still left him with unanswered questions.
‘I can’t bring charges against her for killing her mother – what I have to get clarification on is the reason we are here. I need to know if that poor woman did as we suspect poison innocent people. No matter how sorry I feel for her, we still have not been able to discover if she also murdered her own daughter.’
Cornwall rubbed his eyes and sighed, he was so tired.
‘I will require more sessions, and will obviously allow you to be present, but I cannot at this stage say when I feel she will be able, or in my estimation well enough, to continue. I will require detailed lists of questions you wish to be answered, but as I have just said I cannot give you any confirmation that they will be answered in the near future.’
Jackson, still on edge, asked if he felt Lena could be questioned with a solicitor present. Cornwall gave a resigned sigh and abruptly reminded Jackson she was now his patient and he would not allow her to be subjected to any police interrogation until he was satisfied she was mentally capable of answering as herself.
‘Detective Jackson, just what do you expect me to do? Release her into police custody when she is clearly unfit and requires treatment?’
Jackson shuffled his feet, and looked to Reid.