‘Do you ever go back?’ Erin leaned closer to the display case, trying to decipher the medieval French inscribed within a lavishly coloured border.
‘To Belle River? No. Me and my folks…’ he looked away. ‘We’re not close. My younger brother’s the favoured son. Married with two kids, he works with my dad in his construction business. It was bad enough when I left home for the big, scary city, but after my marriage fell apart, things got a bit frosty. They hate that I’m divorced.’ He touched the small of her back. ‘Ready to go?’
The warm sun had burned away the morning mist. As they strolled uptown, the urge to confess everything beat in her head like a drum. With the mention of his divorce, things had taken a personal turn, and it didn’t seem fair to keep lying to him. They crossed into Bryant Park, where the trees sparkled from the recent rain. A group of city dwellers and tourists alike sprawled on the chairs and benches, enjoying the sunshine. She pointed to a vacant bench. ‘Do you mind if we sit?’
He pressed his palms together. ‘Madam, your wish is my command.’ He seemed to be in inordinately high spirits, and she considered dropping the whole subject of Tim. How much easier it would be to enjoy the day and see where things might lead. As Ray sat on the bench and stretched out his legs, the light filtering through the leaves dappled his face. Near his elbow, a fat bumblebee roamed amongst the dog roses.
‘I have a confession to make.’ She slipped out of her pale green cardigan and bundled it on her lap, unable to meet his eyes. ‘My last name isn’t Carson, it’s Cartwright. And I’m not a writer either. I’m a psychiatrist.’ When she glanced up, Ray’s face was still. ‘Following his trial, Tim Stern was sent to a maximum-security psychiatric facility near Syracuse. He’s been there since 1978. I couldn’t tell you the real reason for my interest in his life because…’ she sought his eyes. ‘My involvement in his case is confidential.’
As Ray turned to look at the far side of the park, a muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘Okay. But why tell me now?’
Because I’m tired of lying. She was ready to blurt it out, but what would be the point? He wouldn’t want to see her again, not after today. ‘I’ve completed my assessment.’
‘So, you’re done with the case?’
‘In principle, yes.’ Her cheeks felt hot. ‘I recommended that Tim be released.’
‘Released? To what… some kind of halfway house?’
Above their heads, the leaves rustled in a passing gust of wind. Her skin prickled from a sudden chill. ‘No. If the state agrees to release him, he’ll go live with his father.’
Ray’s chin jerked up. ‘Why would he do that?’
She plucked a leaf from a nearby shrub and rolled it between her fingers. ‘That’s a question I’ve been trying to answer myself. And I can’t get it out of my mind. I mean, Tim killed the man’s wife and daughters. Who’s to say, once he’s under his father’s roof, that he won’t finish the job?’
Show him the floor plan. What do you have to lose? That voice, a sibilant whisper. ‘Go away.’
‘What?’
Had she spoken out loud? ‘Nothing,’ she mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean you.’ A white-hot pain stabbed her temple. The flickering light, coming through the leaves, bothered her eyes. She shifted to the shady part of the bench before pulling the floor plan from her bag. On the backside of the paper, she’d copied some notes from the police report. ‘You’ve been inside Tim’s house, right?’
He hesitated. ‘Once or twice. For that science project, remember?’
A group of tourists, squinting skyward, bumbled past as they pointed their cameras at random objects and people. Erin waited until they were on the other side of the park before continuing. ‘Did you know that the original house burned down?’
‘Did it?’ He shook his head. ‘I never heard about that. But I’ve hardly been back since leaving home.’ His voice was flat, and his face shut down. Here they were, on a beautiful spring day, and she was forcing him to remember a time and place he’d put behind him long ago.
‘This is the layout of the house,’ she said, handing him the floor plan. ‘Could you walk me through the rooms?’
He gave her a searching look before squinting at the sketch in his hand. A ripple of irritation crossed his face. If he wanted to get away from her as fast as possible, she wouldn’t blame him. As soon as he gave her the information she sought, Erin would head for the train station and leave Ray in peace.
‘So, the police are suggesting… what?’ He ran his index finger along the arrows. ‘That Tim killed his sisters in their bedroom, and then went downstairs and murdered his mother in the kitchen?’ When he looked up, his face was pale. ‘Seems very methodical to me.’
‘The deaths were close together in time,’ Erin said. ‘Which makes sense if Tim was in the grip of psychosis. A psychotic breakdown, or drug-induced psychosis, might have triggered a violent response to a perceived threat.’ She shifted her legs on the bench. ‘From the time he was picked up until now, twenty-seven years later, Tim claims not to remember anything about that night, or the three days afterwards when he went missing.’
‘Tim’s psychosis was drug-induced?’
‘Possibly.’ A gust of wind blew a loose strand of hair across her face. ‘The brain is complicated.
