Dr Carter made the transition from father to professional as he straightened in his chair. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that until you process the correct documentation this remains between us.’
‘That goes without saying. I’m nothing if not professional,’ Jennifer said, unable to prevent her eyes flicking back to the blinds. They really were getting on her nerves.
‘Bit too bright in here, don’t you think?’ Dr Carter said as he got up and walked to the half-drawn blind, releasing it to the bottom of the ledge. Switching on the lamp, he returned to his chair. ‘So tell me, what are your concerns about Mr Bishop?’
Jennifer warmed to Dr Carter even more. ‘I don’t know if you’ve seen the newspapers, but we believe there may be a connection between Bertram and some recent deaths in the area. His whereabouts are unknown and frankly I’m at a loss as to what I’m dealing with, given his lack of history with the police.’
‘And forensically? Sorry, I fancy myself as a bit of an armchair detective,’ Dr Carter said.
Jennifer sighed. This wasn’t meant to be a two-way exchange, but she would have to give something if she wanted to gain his trust.
‘I can’t really say. But it’s only a matter of time until he slips up, and when he does I want to be ready for him.’
Dr Carter nodded as if to say he could read between the lines. The evidence was thin, and made his disclosure all the more important. He took a deep breath and his voice slowed, as if the words weighed heavy on his tongue.
‘Where to start? Bert is a fascinating character, but highly delusional. My colleagues believe his problems stem from the death of his twin brother, but I think it goes back much further than that.’
‘How did his twin die?’ Jennifer asked.
‘A tragic accident. Bert and his brother … what was his name now…?’ Dr Carter took a manila folder from his desk drawer and flicked through the paperwork. ‘Here it is … Callum. They were climbing a tree when Callum fell to his death. Unfortunately, Bert’s mother spent the rest of her life blaming him. Given what Bert has told me about her, it would seem she had several undiagnosed mental health issues herself, anxiety, possibly Munchausen’s … she was not a well woman.’
‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ Jennifer shrugged at the doctor’s raised brow. ‘Armchair psychiatrist.’
Dr Carter’s mouth twinged upwards in a smile. ‘Quite.’
‘Bert seems to have an affinity for ravens, can you tell me anything about that?’
‘Bert compensated for his parents’ apathy by inventing a personal guardian in the form of a raven. It helped him when he was growing up to feel there was someone out there, guiding him. The meaning of his name hasn’t helped. It has only enforced his conviction further.’
‘His name? It’s Bert Bishop, isn’t it?’
‘Yes it is, but the actual meaning of Bertram is raven. In contrast, his brother’s name Callum meant dove. He once told me his mother was surprised to hear the meanings, but I believe it was just another way to enforce her favouritism. That woman had a lot to answer for.’
Jennifer held back a gasp as the memory of the white bird in the forest returned. Was it the spirit of Callum coming back to save her? She rubbed her hand, tracing her finger over the scar that remained. Her eyes returned to the doctor. ‘Has anyone traced the history of the land?’
He shook his head. ‘Much like the police, we deal in fact. To encourage the delusions would only exacerbate his condition. My role was to assist him in coping with life in the real world.’
Just because it’s your world doesn’t make it the real world, Jennifer thought. She would have enjoyed debating the subject, but time was precious.
‘True,’ she said, ‘but we always ensure we have the whole picture when dealing with something as serious as this. His mother is dead, isn’t she? How did she die?’
Dr Carter flicked through the paperwork before pushing it back into the folder and returning it to his drawer. ‘A heart attack,’ he said, discreetly casting a glance over the clock on the wall.
Jennifer itched to take a copy of the folder, but their conversation would have to suffice until the official channels were adhered to.
Dr Carter clasped his fingers together and leaned over his desk. ‘Mr Bishop was fit and well when he left us. People with mental health issues are often subject to discrimination. I’d hate for him to be treated in a way that would result in him spending the remainder of his days in an institution. The most important thing for him is to keep his life normal.’
‘The problem is that he’s been giving readings, and certain recipients have died. I believe he’s responsible for their murders.’
‘Well, DC Knight, I wouldn’t tell you how to do your job no more than I would accept you telling me how to do mine. I’m afraid I’m going to leave the investigation in your hands. If you do arrest Bert I would be very grateful if you could make me aware.’ Dr Carter slid a packet from his breast pocket and pulled out a thick cigar.
Jennifer sensed the doctor’s impatience, but there was so much she needed to know. ‘Do you know anything about his nephew, Christian Bowes? He’s reported Bert for harassing him.’
‘You know as much as I do when it comes to Mr Bowes. But I will ask you one thing. If Bert has relapsed, he may be confused and disorientated. He might have no recollection of his treatment, or indeed may be living in a completely different time. Mr Bowes may be his link to the past. If he turns up and Mr Bowes antagonises him …’ Dr Carter shook his head. ‘Let’s just say it’s important Bert’s returned to our care so we can offer him the help he needs.’
Jennifer nodded, finding it hard to muster sympathy for a man who had left a child motherless and a fiancé without a wife. ‘Thank you, I appreciate your time.’
Dr Carter stood and extended his hand. ‘And I appreciate the opportunity to pay back an overdue debt. If it weren’t for your mother, my daughter wouldn’t be alive today.’
Jennifer shook his hand, hoping to tease out one last nugget of information. ‘So I take it that you’re telling me Bert’s not capable of murder.’
‘Ah.’ The doctor wagged his finger in the air. ‘I didn’t say that. I have no doubt he is capable of violence while in a delusional state. When in this state, with the validation of others, he could prove to be very dangerous indeed.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It should have felt strange, sharing her bed with a man after being on her own for so long. Jennifer breathed in the scent of Will’s pillow as she curled her legs around the warmth of his body. She had forgotten just how much she missed him, and Will’s soft snores were a welcome distraction from the sounds of the branches tapping on her window in the night. As dawn broke through and filtered soft morning light into her bedroom, she wished that she could bask in the warmth emanating from his body, instead of having to face the prospect of a killer loose on the streets of Haven. The haunting figure of Emily’s child replayed in her mind, lost and alone in the house with little food or water. Who would be next? She smoothed over her duvet, eyeing her clothes on the ground. She fought the sudden need to hang them in the wardrobe. Her relationship with Will would not be smooth sailing, she knew that. There would be times when she needed to be alone, and she couldn’t foresee a time when they could ever live together. Will’s messiness would get on her nerves, and he would resent having to constantly clean, once the first flush of their relationship had mellowed. They were the classic odd couple, but that was all right with her. Will stirred and Jennifer edged over to her side of the bed, wanting to be showered before he woke. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slid out from between the sheets.