The doctor swiveled in his chair. "Is your wife a good mother?"
The baron nodded. "Excellent, very loving, but firm — they adored her. They are normal children... however of late, her behavior has greatly disturbed them."
The baron stared into space and then looked down at his hands. "My younger daughter has suffered the most. Perhaps it was unwise for us to have her. Vebekka's breakdowns had begun before Sasha was born."
The baron paused.
"After the birth of each of my sons she became depressed and unstable — twice spending some time in a clinic."
"So you think her illness is connected in some way to the children?" asked Dr. Franks.
The baron twisted his signet ring around his finger. "She was always afraid that the babies would be born deformed; this became an obsession with her. She insisted on visiting doctors sometimes five times a week, demanding X rays, et cetera. She even considered abortions, although her doctors insisted her pregnancies were normal. After giving birth, she would sink into a depression. She did not want to hold the baby, or touch it. She seemed almost afraid of the child, but then the depression would lift, and she would be exhilarated."
"When did you first detect a breakdown, as you call it, not connected to her pregnancies?"
"There have been so many, but the worst came after a lengthy period when I believed our problems were all in the past. Then she became as obsessive about having another child as she had been about the fear of them being born deformed. She wanted a daughter and, when she recovered, I gave way."
Dr. Franks frowned, and tapped his desk with his forefinger. "But you have two daughters, so the pattern continued when your second daughter, Sasha, was born?"
The baron nodded. "Sasha was — how do you say?... not expected, and my wife's gynecologist did suggest terminating the pregnancy." He paused, crossing his legs, and shrugged. "This was unacceptable, on two counts. I am Catholic, and..."
Franks waited, but the baron seemed disinclined to continue.
"So, when did the problems not directly linked to the births of your children actually begin?"
The baron sighed. "The birth of Sasha was not as traumatic, for in fact Vebekka recovered quite quickly. Sasha was doted upon, spoiled I suppose. She is the most delightful child, and the one most physically like her. I thought the problems were over, but they began again. This time my wife said she felt that someone was taking over her body."
"Did that culminate in another breakdown?"
The baron stubbed out his cigar and clenched his hands.
"Yes. We were in Monaco for the polo season. Vebekka took Sasha to a circus. During one of the acts, my wife began to behave strangely, she kept on getting out of her seat, she seemed to want to get into the circus ring. She became abusive when she was restrained by one of the ushers — she was screaming about the clown, it was a midget or a dwarf. She became totally hysterical. Somehow she got into the ring and attacked the clown. By the time I was called she had been taken, incoherent, to a hospital. To my knowledge that was the first time she had actually been violent. Since then, her violence and irrational behavior has spiraled. She has attacked every member of the family, including me. Sasha is very much afraid of her."
"Are you saying she has attacked her own daughter?"
"No, no, but she has destroyed Sasha's possessions."
"What do you mean?"
The baron looked to Helen, and then back to Franks. "The child's toys, her dolls. She breaks them, burns them."
"Has she ever been self-abusive?"
"She has tried to kill herself countless times, in fact she attempted to do so in the hotel last night. But surely you have her medical history?"
Dr. Franks raised his bushy eyebrows. "Of course, but I want to hear firsthand. Please continue."
Franks observed how the baron looked to Helen Masters, as if for approval or reassurance.
"In my estimation, this present attack has been coming on for weeks. Helen suggested this would be the best time for you to see her. Vebekka agreed because of Sasha."
"If I can help your wife, would you agree to let her stay in my clinic for as long as is needed?"
"If you can help her, I will agree to anything you suggest. I cannot subject my children and myself to any more torment. I have had enough."
The doctor could see a muscle twitching at the side of the baron's mouth.
"Do you regret marrying your wife?"
"That is an impossible question. I have four beautiful children; of course I do not regret marrying her. But my sons, my daughters must know if this illness is hereditary. If my wife is to be institutionalized it will affect each and every one of us. You are my last hope."
"Would you please describe the very first time you noticed your wife behave in an irrational manner."
The baron remained silent for at least half a minute, then sighed. "She was four months pregnant with my first son, she was very beautiful, and being pregnant made her even more so. She took great care of herself, and seemed content. We both were. We were very much in love, exceptionally close, idyllically happy. One night I woke up, and she was not beside me. I went to look for her. I found her in the kitchen; there was food everywhere, she was stuffing her mouth. She must have been doing it for quite some time because there was vomit on the floor. Her face was rigid, she was like a stranger. It was awful."
Franks held up his hand. They could hear laughter from the next room. Helen stood up, as if to go into the reception area, but Franks waved her back to her seat.
"Maja is with her. She is very adept at relaxing patients. It seems she has succeeded!"
Vebekka was telling Maja about her days as a modeclass="underline" the gossip and backbiting. She was very entertaining, and the more she relaxed the more animated she became. She stood up to demonstrate how she had first been taught to cat-walk. She arched her back, pushed her hips forward, and paraded up and down.
"You know how many models have back trouble? I mean can you imagine any sane person walking in this way?"
She swiveled on her heels, then glided to the sofa and sat down.
"The gowns were spectacular, and it was amusing to see which celebrity bought which design. Can you imagine the fun, seeing those superb creations on frumpy, rotund women!"
Maja was entertained, it was difficult not to be, but she also detected a strange wariness in Vebekka. Her eyes frequently strayed to the closed door, then she would fall silent, sometimes in mid-sentence, before quickly recovering and launching into a different story. Maja did not attempt to steer Vebekka into discussing how she felt, knowing it would either happen naturally or not at all. But as experienced as she was, she was still taken by surprise when Vebekka suddenly gripped her wrist.
"What are they doing in there? Why are they taking so long?"
Maja made no move to withdraw her hand.
"He's talking about me, isn't he? Of course, stupid question, stupid question..."
She released her hold.
"Dr. Franks needs to know so much about you," Maja said kindly.
"Why doesn't he ask me?"
"He will, but your husband will probably speak more freely without you there."
Vebekka nodded. "Yes, yes, that's true, poor Louis. I am all right now. This is a waste of time, you know..."
Maja looked at her watch. She got up and went toward a glass panel between the rooms. She was going to pull the blind up to see if one of the kitchen helpers was there to make some coffee, but, as her hand reached for the string, she froze.