Now it’s as if everything trapped inside me since Amy’s death has been stirred up again, like a demon that has been there all along, waiting for someone to unlock the door. I don’t know what to do with this demon, but I know he won’t go away.
Bridget was kind this morning. She could tell how upset I was and asked if I wanted her to tell Dr Ebbs that I was unwell. I said no. She put me back into bed after my nausea, told me she’d bring me down a light breakfast on a tray. She washed my face with a cold face cloth, giving me instructions to stay underneath the covers. I lay there as she cleaned the sink of vomit. She did her best to rid the place of the stench. I felt the closest to being loved I’ve felt for a very long time. In a funny way, knowing that Bridget cared helped me before the anger came.
Arriving to see Dr Ebbs, I was determined. The wave of anger that had spread through me after Bridget left had put fire back in my soul. It was the kind of anger I remembered feeling before, the kind that consumes you, but at least tells you you’re alive. I held back at first, not sure which way to go about telling Dr Ebbs. I was afraid of blurting out the whole thing. I recalled how that tack had backfired on me last time around. People had looked at me as if I was mad. Well, I guess I had been. So I knew that today, I needed to be calm. I tried to judge the situation as best I could. But from the moment I opened my mouth, I knew he didn’t believe me. I recognised that look from the get-go. Whenever they ask stupid questions, you know you’re in trouble because you know what they’re thinking: Let the lunatic have her say, and then ignore her.
When he tried to placate me, something else changed inside. I wanted to scream. I knew he wasn’t listening. The hope that you can change someone’s mind fades quickly. I saw exactly how it was going to play out, and I was damned if I was going to go through all that disbelief and frustration again. I wanted out of there, and quick.
So I swallowed the tablets he gave me. I knew I had no choice. The nurse checked I had swallowed them, as she was instructed to do. I waited until she was out of earshot. It didn’t take much to force the tablets back up. Bridget had left some of the cleaning stuff with me in case I was sick again. I cleaned everything up, even though I was weak. But whatever weakness my body felt, my head felt strong, stronger than it had felt for a very long time.
By the time I was finished, the place looked and smelled as perfect as when the nurse had left. I sat looking at Amy’s photograph for a long time before I finally put it under my pillow. When I did, I thought long and hard about how I was going to make things different.
This time around, I have to succeed – with or without the good doctor’s help.
Incident Room, Tallaght Garda Station
Monday, 10 October 2011, 11.30 a.m.
GARDA ADELE BURLINGTON HAD BEEN ANSWERING calls on the helplines since the start of her shift at ten that morning. It was her third day doing the same thing: recording details received from the public, and rating the calls for passing further up the line.
‘Public Information Line.’
‘My name is Dr Samuel Ebbs.’
‘How can I help you, Dr Ebbs?’
‘I’m phoning in connection with the murders of the young girls in Dublin.’
‘Where are you calling from, Dr Ebbs?’
‘St Michael’s Institution. I’m the senior psychiatric consultant here.’
‘And what information do you have?’
‘Well, it’s to do with a patient under my supervision, Ellie Brady. She’s been remembering information about the murder of her own daughter, something that happened fifteen years ago. You do understand why I am hesitant about making this call?’
‘Dr Ebbs, any information you give me will be treated confidentially, I assure you. You can talk freely.’
‘Okay. Ellie Brady is a long-term patient here, and is believed to have been responsible for the death of her daughter fifteen years ago.’
‘Her daughter’s name?’
‘Amy. Amy Brady. She would have been of similar age to the victims in Dublin.’
‘And what has Ellie told you?’
‘She believes the person who has committed the current murders killed her daughter as well.’
‘You sound hesitant, doctor?’
‘Ellie is under psychiatric care for a reason. I have no way of validating any of the information she has given me, but according to her, the way the girls were found, with the plaiting, the ribbons and the crucifix, was exactly how she found her daughter. It was a long time ago, but she is adamant.’
‘Will we be able to speak to Ellie Brady if that proves necessary?’
‘That is the problem. At the moment she is under sedation because of her heightened anxiety. As I said, I don’t know if any of this is true. My main concern is that if it isn’t true, interviewing Ellie would only serve to elevate whatever medical difficulties exist.’
‘Could you give me your telephone number, Dr Ebbs? I will need to call you back to validate the contact source.’