When i know your name, p.12
When I Know Your Name, page 12
‘It was a terrible ordeal, I can see that,’ McAllister said with a kind smile. He paused his questioning for a moment to allow Elena to calm herself before he continued, ‘These people then made a call to your father on the Monday.’
She shuffled in her chair, uncomfortable.
‘Are you feeling all right?’ McAllister asked. ‘Would you like to take a break?’
She glanced at him. ‘No, I’m fine. I want this over with.’
‘I’m sure,’ he said as he flicked through more pages. ‘Let’s focus on the man who abducted you. Could you describe him for us?’
‘He was tall, about six foot and lanky, but he was so strong…’ She drifted off.
‘Take your time,’ he said kindly.
‘He had black hair that was slicked back, and he wore jeans and a T-shirt. I think he wore a leather jacket too, sometimes.’ She shuddered, remembering the distinct smell of it when he carried her into the shack. ‘Is that enough?’
‘Yes, Elena, that’s just what we need. Were there any distinguishing features? Tattoos or piercings?’
‘Yes, he had black tattoos running down both of his arms.’
The two policemen looked at each other.
‘Elena, we have to tell you that a man fitting the description you have given was found dead at the scene,’ McAllister said. ‘The day you were released.’
‘Oh, that’s horrible,’ she said, needing to keep calm. It was almost over. ‘But it does explain those last few hours, I suppose.’
‘How?’
‘That day, when my father refused to pay the ransom, he came to the room, made another call to my father, pointed the gun and fired it straight into the ceiling. Another one of his sick games to terrify me and my family. The bullet’s probably still lodged in the plasterwork – if you haven’t seen it already.’ She watched him write it down and waited, letting him record all the details. ‘I don’t think he ever intended to kill me, not that day anyway. But I never knew what was going on in that twisted mind of his, and I’m not sure he really knew either.’
She paused for a moment, needing to make this count. ‘Anyway, afterwards, I heard raised voices downstairs. Lots of shouting and arguing, and then there was the sound of something crashing to the floor. After that, nothing.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know, maybe the other person did want me dead, and they fell out about it. Badly. I’ll never know though, as I was still held in the room. When I heard nothing else after that, I assumed they’d abandoned the place. A short while later the police arrived. I had no idea he was dead.’
I’m actually doing this.
‘And you were alone in that room until we arrived?’
‘Yes, completely alone, as always.’
‘I know this is very hard for you, but we need this information. We’re here to help you, so if you remember anything, however small, that may help, now’s the time.’
She kept eye contact. ‘I know there was another person there, but I never saw him. Or her, I suppose,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders.
‘Never?’
‘Never. I only ever saw the man who abducted me. The man who is now dead.’
He leant forward, his gaze fixed. ‘So you’re telling me that you never saw anyone else despite being alone in a house with other people?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘That a man, who never showed you any kindness, who beat you, attacked you and taunted you with a gun, also gave you the dressing for your leg?’
She faltered but fought to regain her composure. ‘That’s correct. Like I said, who knew what was going through his mind. I didn’t overthink it. I just wanted to survive.’
Something in the way he looked at her betrayed his doubt at her recollection of events, but she wouldn’t start stuttering and give the game away now, so she matched his stare.
He looked to his notes and spoke quietly with Jacobs as she exhaled slowly and quietly.
‘Tell me, is there anyone you know who might hold a grudge? Someone who might see this as payback?’
Elena recoiled. ‘What are you suggesting? That this was done by someone I know?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything. You come from a wealthy family, with a successful father. We need to explore all avenues, that’s all.’
‘I don’t know anyone who’d want to hurt me like this or my father. But he’s a barrister. Someone may have a grudge. I really don’t know. You’d have to take that up with him.’ She rubbed her head. ‘Are we done now?’
McAllister nodded. ‘Yes, I think we’ve got everything for now. Thank you for your time. I know that was hard.’
‘How long before the case can be closed?’ she asked.
McAllister raised an eyebrow. ‘We’ll need to do a thorough investigation; you’ll want whoever was involved to be brought to justice, no doubt.’
She nodded. ‘Of course, but I just want to put it all behind me. Move on.’
‘Well, I do have to warn you that we have very little to go on,’ he said as he tucked his book into his pocket.
‘Have you dealt with an abduction before?’
‘Yes, I have. Unfortunately, it’s not as uncommon as you might think. I was assisting your parents while you were in captivity.’
Her eyes widened. ‘So it was you who advised them not to pay the ransom?’
‘No, Elena. It most definitely was not.’
‘I see,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Do you have children?’
He looked uncomfortable again but answered anyway. ‘Yes, I have two.’
‘And would you pay a ransom if the worst happened?’
He considered her question and gave a sympathetic smile. ‘It would never happen on my salary, but yes, I would.’
‘Of course you would.’
‘We all make decisions in the heat of the moment. Don’t be too hard on your parents. They did what they thought was right.’
‘But right for whom?’
McAllister stood up from his chair, Jacobs following his lead. ‘Do you have a place to stay after you’re discharged from here?’ he asked.
‘No. I thought I would just go home. I certainly need the peace.’
‘Well, yes, but first we need to make your building secure – which we’ve already discussed with your father. He’s arranging for new security to be added to the building. The locks will be changed, including the exterior door, and there will be panic alarms fitted.’
‘Wow, it’s amazing what a guilty conscience will do,’ she murmured.
He smiled. ‘It may be best to stay with someone you trust for now, rather than be on your own.’
‘Yes, yes, of course, I can arrange that,’ she said in a level tone that contradicted the turmoil inside.
He handed her his card. ‘If you want to discuss anything, or remember something you think is significant, call me. I can be contacted on the numbers here.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she took the card.
‘No problem. You rest now. We’ll be in touch in a few days,’ he said as they replaced the chairs and made their way to the door.
She remained seated as the policemen left. It was done now. Task complete. She’d protected him and wanted no more meddling into the situation. The case needed to be closed, and she would certainly do as little as possible to help any further. He was free, and she was glad. A little damaged but glad. The satisfaction she felt mingled with the knowledge that the old Elena was fading away.
14
Elena’s desire to be alone was to be denied yet again when a woman dressed in a smart black business suit entered the room after gently knocking on the door.
‘Hello, Elena, I’m Dr Jones,’ she said as she pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Do you mind if I sit with you?’
‘Well, I see that you already have,’ Elena said, unable to mask her irritation.
The woman smiled and continued, ‘I thought it might be good to have a little chat. You have been through so much and must be very confused about what’s happened to you over the last few months.’
‘And you are…?’
She smiled again and held up the ID card on her lanyard. ‘I’m a counsellor who works alongside the police, helping people who have been through traumatic situations, giving them a chance to work through their feelings. I’m here to offer you a little support, that’s all.’
Elena glanced at the woman’s ID, which neatly confirmed her full name, her profession, and had a photo from ten years ago, at least. ‘Well, thank you, but I’m fine. Really.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ she ventured on gently. ‘But DS McAllister was concerned that you might be struggling a little with your emotions at the moment.’ She paused and offered another sympathetic smile.
‘I see. I didn’t realise DS McAllister was fully trained in the complexities of mental health as well as being a detective for the Metropolitan Police force,’ Elena replied.
Dr Jones’s expression was fixed, her patience outshining Elena’s curtness. ‘He simply had a few concerns following your interview. Thought a little chat might help,’ she said as she opened her black folder and took out a pen.
‘But I’ve told you everything, and I’m fine, so there’s really no need to waste your time. And I’d really just like to be left alone.’
‘I understand that, Elena, but the fact that you want to do just that indicates that you’re going through an emotional response that may require attention. You’ve been through a very traumatic experience.’
Elena rubbed her forehead.
The counsellor continued, ‘And these things can creep up on us if we let them.’
‘What things?’
‘Adjusting back into your life. That alone can bring its own challenges. You may find the transition difficult, which is totally understandable.’
Elena fought the urge to scream. She wanted help from this woman about as much as she wanted to poke herself in the eye.
‘Is there anything you wish to discuss with me?’
Elena sat rigid in her chair. ‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘It’s okay, there’s nothing to be worried about.’
Elena said nothing, dumbfounded that this woman wouldn’t simply disappear.
‘Elena, I’m going to be frank with you,’ Dr Jones said. ‘DS McAllister felt that you might be holding back a little. Hesitant to give us the full picture.’ She smiled. ‘It’s not so much that he understands the complexities of mental health, just that he’s been doing his job for many years. Nothing would surprise him, you know.’
‘I’ve told him what happened. Why can’t that be enough?’
‘It is enough, but there are no rules here. We just want you to understand that you can talk to us. You can trust us, and nothing you say will ever reflect badly on you.’
Elena faltered.
‘And sadly, it’s well known that a range of psychological symptoms can develop in people who have experienced a captive situation such as yours,’ Dr Jones continued. ‘One of which can be emotional attachments.’
Elena’s body tensed, her spine rigid, defensive.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying, Elena? Do you have any unexplained feelings that you might wish to discuss with me?’
‘Why would you think that?’ Elena blurted out. ‘There’s nothing like that. Nothing at all.’
‘I see,’ Dr Jones said with an expression that indicated she understood a lot more than Elena was giving. ‘There’s no shame in this, really. You were simply trying to survive, and fifty-six days is a significant period of time. Things change. Priorities change, and you won’t be the first person to have developed positive feelings for the person who held you. Especially after such a long period of time.’
‘But that man was evil, pure evil. Why would I develop an emotional attachment to him? And why would I protect a man who is dead?’
‘But perhaps we’re not talking about him, are we, Elena?’ Dr Jones said gently. ‘I’m wondering if there’s anything you’d like to share about one of the other captors. You said that there was more than one person there, in the house. Someone who is responsible for what you went through. Someone who is still out there.’
Panic rose within her, and she felt smothered by it. ‘Really, I can’t do this,’ she snapped as she sat forwards in her chair. ‘You don’t know what happened, and you can’t possibly know how I feel.’
‘Well, that’s true, and that’s exactly why I’m here. You do look to be in some turmoil, and I think you’d benefit from exploring your feelings. Stockholm syndrome is a common–’
‘No, you’re wrong, and you’re not listening to me,’ Elena spluttered as she stood and began to pace the room. ‘I don’t want to know what you’ve got to say. Ever. I don’t care about a stupid syndrome, and I don’t need your help.’
‘Elena, please calm down. I’m only here to help you. Why don’t you sit down? We can take as much time as you need.’
‘Don’t tell me to calm down. I don’t need to talk or explore my feelings, and I don’t want you here. I really think you should leave. Now.’
Dr Jones nodded, took out a small card from her folder, and stood. ‘Okay, I can see that you’re distressed, and I don’t want to add to that in any way. It’s clear that this was all a little too much so soon after your release. I’ll go now, but here’s my card. If you change your mind and wish to discuss this with me, I can be contacted on those numbers. Anytime. The same goes for DS McAllister too, should you wish to discuss anything further with him.’
Elena snatched the card from Dr Jones, just to get rid of her, and watched as she left the room. When she was alone, she ripped the card into tiny pieces and tossed them into the bin.
It took the best part of two hours for Elena to calm herself following her disastrous meeting with the counsellor. She sat in her room, the white card from the flowers in the back pocket of her jeans, with decisions to make. She realised that, in addition to everything else, she had also become institutionalised: letting people tell her when to eat, when to shower, and when to sleep. There had been no need to think, and now she was expected to make these decisions for herself – things that used to be so easy but were now so daunting. She couldn’t even think about how she would tackle her parents.
There was a knock on the door again. Elena groaned and dropped her head into her hands. ‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus around here,’ she hissed. ‘Yes!’ she shouted.
She looked up as Charlotte poked her head around the door, and it changed everything.
‘Hello, Lena. Now not a good time?’
‘Charlotte! Come in,’ Elena said and jumped up. ‘You’ve no idea how glad I am to see you.’
She hugged her friend tightly and found that she couldn’t let go. This was what she wanted – plain, simple comfort. Something she didn’t get from Adam or her own mother, and she began to cry.
‘Hey, calm down,’ Charlotte soothed as she took Elena’s hand and sat with her on the bed.
Elena rambled on through her tears, sharing details about the betrayal of her parents, how she nearly died because of it, and the fact that she had nowhere to go, not able to return to her home.
‘Bloody hell, Lena,’ Charlotte said, hugging her close. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how awful it must have been. But listen to me, it’s over, and you’ll stay with me for as long as you want, and I guarantee they won’t bother you if you don’t want them to.’
‘That sounds perfect, thank you.’ Elena sniffed as relief calmed her. ‘The doctor’s visiting today with a view to discharging me, and I can’t wait to step outside, but I’m a little terrified too.’
‘Well, it’s lucky I’m here. Let’s get your stuff together right away so we’re ready to go.’
They packed up her things. She called her parents and Adam to let them know what she was doing. Adam was surprised that she hadn’t chosen him, but she sidestepped the argument by saying that he was just too busy to have to cope with the added pressure of taking care of her. And he accepted it, for now. Her parents were a different matter. They were not happy at all. Her mother asked when she would visit, as they had so much to discuss, but Elena didn’t care. They had all but abandoned her; she’d see them when she was ready.
The doctor visited and confirmed that he was happy with her medical progress and agreed that she was well enough to go home. The nurse gave her some painkillers and information leaflets that Elena felt were no more than a generic guide on how to look after your mental health, but she took them anyway. She kept the pretty white and pink roses too, tucking them gently under her arm.
‘You take care, my dear,’ the nurse said as she gathered Elena into a hug.
‘Thank you for looking after me,’ Elena said, holding on tight for a moment longer.
Hesitantly, she took hold of Charlotte’s arm and stepped out into her beloved sunshine.
Charlotte’s garden apartment, a conversion of a large Victorian house, was homely and familiar. Elena relaxed the moment she stepped over the threshold, but despite the familiarity, there was no denying the sense that being here now, everything was different.
Charlotte took Elena’s bag from her hand. ‘Make yourself at home. Pootle is around here somewhere,’ she said as she disappeared down the hall to the spare room.
Elena wandered into the living room, calling out for the cat. She checked the windowsill and the sofa back – favourite places that Pootle liked to inhabit – and soon enough the cat flap clattered, and he appeared, a flash of tortoiseshell. His tail high, he mewed and purred, hopeful for food, but she kidded herself it was because he was pleased to see her. She ran her hand down the length of him from head to tail and waited as he turned and let her repeat the process.
‘Are you allowed wine?’ Charlotte asked as she walked past them, smiling at their little reunion. She continued through to the kitchen and to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of white.
‘Who knows, but if you’re opening a bottle, I will have a glass,’ Elena said. ‘No better way to celebrate my freedom than inappropriate quantities of alcohol, I guess.’
