‘Eleven to one, one to eleven, eleven to one, one to eleven,’ incanted Mason, like a mantra. ‘Like a clock, back and forth, back and forth.’
Fosdyke and Lloyd stood motionless against the wall by the window. Hall intentionally stood half obscuring the window, the only unrehearsed part. He felt uncomfortable: intrusive. Was Mason right that strong-minded people were more easily hypnotized than the weak-willed; the mentally ill? He supposed the psychiatrist had to be. That was his job.
‘ Shut up! Don’t listen.’
‘Count the numbers to me the right way: your right way…’
‘… One, two…’ picked up Jennifer. ‘Three… four…’
‘ Stop. Don’t do it! ’
‘… five, six…’ Jennifer’s voice faded.
‘Good,’ said Mason, soothingly. ‘Very good… five…?’
‘… six…’
‘ No! ’ Jennifer’s legs jerked, but not as fiercely as before, little more than an exaggerated twitch.
Hall thought she looked so much better, in her own clothes, into which she’d insisted upon changing the moment he’d entered with the suitcases. Jeans and a sweater, her legs actually crossed at the ankle as she lay back on the bed.
‘No need to do that,’ warned Mason. ‘You can stop jerking your body about. You’re in control, not Jane. And you can close your eyes if they feel heavy. That’s it. Relax…’
The next leg twitch was hardly noticeable.
‘There…’ Unhurriedly, Mason restrapped the watch. ‘You know you’re not asleep, dreaming, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘That we’ve got a lot to talk about?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want to talk to me, Jennifer?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you won’t lie to me?’
‘No.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘What’s the most important oath you could swear on, to keep that promise?’
Jennifer’s brow furrowed. ‘Emily’s life.’
‘Will you promise on Emily’s life to tell me the truth, all the time?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about Gerald’s life?’
‘Gerald’s dead.’
‘How did he die?’
‘Stabbed. Cut.’
‘Who stabbed and cut him?’
‘Jane.’
‘ Wake up! Don’t listen.’
‘Don’t want to listen.’
‘Yes you do, Jennifer. Is Jane telling you not to listen?’
‘Yes.’
‘ Listen to me. Not to him.’
‘Let’s stop her, Jennifer. Drive her out.’
‘ Can’t! ’
‘Can’t.’
‘Yes, we can. I want you to do what I tell you. I want you to stop hearing the voice.’
‘ Can’t! ’
‘She won’t stop.’
‘Go away, Jane! We don’t want you!’ said Mason. He didn’t raise his voice.
Hall was suffused with a feeling of unreality: this sounded more insane than when Jennifer was spouting the words supposedly from someone else.
‘ You can’t stop me! ’
‘Can’t stop her.’
‘Let’s put her in another room then. Close the door. Think of Jane in another room, with the door closed. A very thick door, closing out the sound. Go on, close the door. Can you do that, close the door?’
‘Yes.’
‘ No! ’
‘Shut her out, Jennifer. It’s easy to shut her out, from another room… the door’s very thick…’
‘ No! ’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you closed her out?’
‘Yes.’
‘She’s not so loud now, is she? Put in another room, like a naughty child.’
‘ Who the fuck’s he calling a naughty child? ’
‘No, not so loud now.’
‘Hardly hear her at all?’
‘ Listen to me! ’ There was a vague leg movement.
‘Hardly hear her.’
That’s good: that’s very good. Easy to ignore her now. We’ve shut her out. Do you want her shut out?’
‘Yes.’
‘Gone completely?’
‘Yes.’
‘ Never get rid of me! ’ The sound started.
‘She’s talking, but not loudly.’
‘Is she real? Is Jane real in your head, Jennifer?’
‘Yes. She’s trying to scream but it doesn’t hurt.’
‘So we can talk now, without her?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s that going to be like?’
‘Wonderful.’
‘Do you hate Jane?’
‘No.’
‘What then?’
‘Just want her to go away.’
‘ Won’t go away. Ever! You’ve got to wake up, in a minute. You’ll be mine again then.’
‘Tell me how much you loved Gerald?’
‘Totally.’
‘And he loved you?’
‘Totally.’
‘Who’s Rebecca?’
‘Rebecca Nicholls. Works with Gerald.’
‘Is she your friend?’
‘ Fucked Gerald. Fucked Gerald.’
‘Not now.’
‘You thought she was?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why isn’t she your friend any more?’
‘Had an affair, with Gerald.’
‘Did you know they were having an affair?’
‘No.’
‘Never suspected it?’
‘No.’
‘The police think you did.’
‘Not true.’
‘Is Jane true? Or did you make her up?’
‘She’s true. Here, now.’
‘But in another room?’
‘Still hear her.’
‘Do you know what a Cyclothymic Personality Disorder is, Jennifer?’
‘No.’
‘I’d really like you to tell me. I want to know.’
‘Don’t know.’
‘What’s a Paranoid Personality Disorder?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘You sure you don’t know?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you tell me what an Anankastic Personality Disorder is?’
‘No.’
‘You sure you can’t. I’d really like you to, if you can.’
‘I can’t.’
‘ Trying to trick you. Don’t answer him.’
Without turning to the men ranged behind him Mason raised his hand in a don’t-interrupt, warding-off gesture. He continued it to take a pen from the inside from his shirt pocket. ‘Can you see this pen?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s very hot. Very hot indeed. Do you believe me?’ It was a cheap ballpoint, plastic cased.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m going to put it against your arm…’
Lloyd started forward but Fosdyke snatched out, stopping the protest. It was difficult for Hall to hold back. He was sweating, his back clammy, his hands wet. Jennifer winced, jerking away. Almost at once a perfectly round red burn mark formed on the arm in which the drip had been, before she tore it out.
‘Does your arm hurt?’
‘It burns.’
‘I want to do some tests. Is that OK?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m going to ask you some questions again. And every time I do, before you answer, I’m going to put the hot pen on your arm. If you tell a lie, it will burn. But if you tell the truth, it won’t. Do you agree to that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Define a Cyclothymic Personality Disorder?’ asked Mason, putting the harmless pen to Jennifer’s arm.
‘I can’t.’
Hall tensed forward. No mark appeared.
‘ Trick! Music-hall trick! ’
‘Define a Paranoid Personality Disorder.’ The pen casing went down.
‘I can’t.’
No blister formed.
‘Define an Anankastic Personality Disorder.’ The pen descended.
‘I can’t.’
Jennifer’s skin remained unmarked.
‘Does it still hurt where I first put the pen?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m going to put it there again. It’s going to take all the pain away. And the mark will go.’
Hall felt an unnerved sensation at the back of his neck as he saw Mason place the pen on the angry mark. Almost at once the red began to fade.
‘There won’t be a mark,’ promised Mason. ‘All the pain’s gone, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
Hall was conscious of a relaxation from the two doctors alongside him. He didn’t look at them and they didn’t look at him.
In front of him Mason was asking Jennifer, ‘Do you like the cinema?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you go, with Gerald?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Did you ever see a film called The Three Faces of Eve? ’
‘No.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s a Multiple Personality Disorder?’
‘Don’t know.’
Mason learned forward with the pen again, putting it against Jennifer’s arm, and repeated the question. The skin remained smooth and even.