Jackman watched them walk away. They were clearly comfortable working together. He just prayed that Carter’s issues didn’t affect Marie any more than they had already. Perhaps, just perhaps, finding out what happened to Suzanne Holland would draw a line under this whole episode.
Jackman went back into his office and closed the door. When something terrible happened, there was always more than one victim. Disaster had a ripple effect, like a pebble thrown into a lake, drawing in many more people than those directly involved. Jackman sighed. He had a feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.
*
‘At sodding last! Got something, lads!’ Max snatched an email from the printer. Robbie and Charlie hurried over.
‘Doolan is in Scunthorpe General Hospital. He was in an RTC yesterday.’
‘How bad is he?’ asked Charlie.
‘Not good, but not critical either. We need to go see him.’ Max grinned at Robbie. ‘And even though there’s no sun, sea, sand or sangria, like some people’s recent trips, this one is mine.’
Robbie held up his hands. ‘Scunthorpe is all yours.’ He grinned back. ‘Although I am bitterly disappointed.’
‘Yeah, I’m sure. Bitterly.’
Max hurried off to tell the boss, and Robbie and Charlie returned to their desks. It wasn’t over yet. They still had to place him at the scene of the crime. But at least they now knew where he was, and by the sound of it, he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. Another link in the chain.
Robbie stood up. ‘Want a coffee, Charlie-boy?’
‘White with two, please.’ He put a hand in his pocket.
‘Forget it, it’s my turn.’
Robbie strolled along to the coffee machine, wondering how his expat friend was doing. If Harvey had been local, Robbie would have visited him again. He had a distinct feeling that all was not well with HC. Not only that, he knew he had been holding something back. What was it? Could it be important?
Robbie carried the two coffees back to the CID room and set one down in front of Charlie.
‘Thanks.’ Charlie looked up from his monitor screen. ‘I’ve been thinking. What if Ponytail isn’t Ralph Doolan?’
Robbie blinked. Charlie had a knack of saying the blindingly obvious, in a way that made you think again. ‘I’ve been rather running with the hypothesis that there wouldn’t be two Ponytails and Glasses in Suzanne’s life.’
‘Why not?’ Charlie shrugged, ‘He was a dead ringer for Alan Pitt’s cousin, and the boss said he looked like an Arsenal footballer, so? She could have known two Ponytails. It’s not impossible.’
Robbie stared at him. ‘What the hell does the boss know about Arsenal?’
Charlie laughed. ‘Sod all, as far as I know. But if Doolan comes up with a cast-iron alibi, we need to start looking for Ponytail II, don’t we?’
‘I suppose.’ Robbie let out a sigh. ‘I can hardly wait.’
*
Sam Page had just finished a long stint on the riverbank, watching great crested grebes. As soon as he entered the house, he checked his answerphone. No messages.
He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He was worried about Laura. She had been so interested in hearing his opinion of her complex patient, and then nothing.
He made tea and took it through to the sun lounge. He had deliberately left his garden to grow wild, and it was now a haven for wildlife. Sam loved nothing better than watching his “lodgers,” as he called the field mice, hedgehogs, bats and other creatures that had made it their home.
He sipped his tea and thought about Laura Archer.
She had told him the story of this patient of hers called Carter, and Sam had realised that it was one of those rare cases where the client affects the therapist in a profound way. He hated to see Laura so anxious, but he didn’t know what to do about it.
Eventually he muttered to himself, ‘Come on, Sam. Just call her.’
Laura answered before the second ring. She must have been waiting for a call from someone else. ‘Shall I ring back at a better time?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Sam, no, of course not. Now is fine.’
‘I was wondering if you’d managed to tie your man down to an appointment where I can sit in. I’m quite free this week.’
Sam heard a muffled grunt.
‘He’s not returning my calls. I’ve rung and left messages, and I’ve texted him, but he’s not getting back. I’m sorry, Sam, but I guess we’ll have to forget it.’
‘You are very worried about him, aren’t you?’
Her silence spoke volumes.
‘Laura, you can’t heal them all. Just as some physical injuries are beyond the help of a surgeon, injuries to the mind can have the same outcome.’
‘I had a brief word with his friend, Marie. She told me that his fourth friend is with him all the time now. It has scared the life out of me. It’s not something I’ve ever dealt with before.’
‘Yet he still functions?’
‘He does outwardly, and he seems to keep this friend, Tom, well under wraps. No one other than Marie and her DI are aware that anything is wrong. To most people, he’s an amazing survivor — a superhero.’
Sam thought about it. ‘From what you told me, he chose an excellent coping mechanism. As he no longer “sees” the other three friends, it is clearly working for him, but the fourth task is much more difficult. How long is it since this woman disappeared?’
Laura murmured, ‘Eighteen months, Sam. A long time.’
‘And Carter believes that this friend wants him to find out what happened to his wife?’
‘That’s what he says.’
‘And all the time he is being haunted by the friend’s restless, unquiet soul. We have to consider that this case may linger on for a very long while.’ He took a breath. ‘And I’m not sure how Carter will handle that. The labours of Hercules seem a bit tame compared to the task that young man has set himself.’
‘That doesn’t bear thinking about, Sam.’
‘There is another worrying factor.’
‘And that is?’
‘That he has got under your skin. You are too close to this man. You must detach yourself. You cannot afford to let him breach your defences.’
Laura did not answer him.
Her silence told him all he needed to know. ‘Can I ask, have you finished your paper? The one on psychosocial transitions?’
‘I’ve ditched it.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, you know why! He was my main case study, wasn’t he?’
‘Let me take over his case. I know that you are more than capable of dealing with his problem, but you are too involved with the man himself. It’s not healthy, my dear. You don’t need me to tell you about distancing yourself emotionally.’
Laura let out a sigh. ‘God, Sam, I’ve tried all the tricks, even the exercises we use in training. But this time . . . nothing works.’ She paused. ‘You are right, Sam, but because I work for the police force I can’t just hand his case over to you. You don’t have clearance.’
‘Then allow me to help you. Don’t tackle this alone.’
‘Would you? It would be such a relief! And let’s pray that our boys and girls in blue solve the mystery of Suzanne in double-quick time, before we all finish up in therapy!’
Sam hung up, feeling happier. At least if he were there to guide her, she wouldn’t have to worry about errors of judgement. And if things didn’t pan out for Carter McLean, Laura might really need him.