'Black and White' - The White Bridge Crime Series 2 - LGBT, manXman

8

“I’m really getting tired of this.” Rex groaned, entering the bedroom with Dom.

Will had already surveyed the scene, and started photographing the house.

Two uniformed PC’s were keeping the journalists away from the house.

They’d gathered moments after Rex and Dom had received the call about the third body, making Rex think someone inside the police station had told the press.

“I’d say he’s even more tired of it,” said Dom grimly, motioning the body on the bed.

Will ran over the scene with them, before letting them go and start talking to the neighbours while he transported the body back to the mortuary.

*

“So, it’s been two months since Alan Patterson was found, we’ve got three dead men, and we still have nothing?” Cole asked to clarify, rubbing his eyes wearily.

“No DNA, no apparent motive. He forces open the back door, subdues the victims with ketamine in their bedroom, ties them up, waits for them to wake up, rapes them, slits their throat and leaves a red rose on the pillow, before leaving through the front door. He leaves the door open, from some reason.”

Dom sighed and leant back in his chair.

“All of the victims are aged between thirty and forty, all have brown hair. They don’t seem to have anything in common, aside from the doctor.” Rex said.

“What about this doctor?” Cole asked. “Whatever her name is.”

“Rebecca Wilson.” Rex supplied. “We’ve got an appointment with her this afternoon. She’s got a practice up north.”

Cole nodded.

“Take one of the station cars. Get going. Report back to me before you go home.”

*

“Dr Wilson’s with a patient right now. You can wait over there. Would you like anything?”

A leggy blonde receptionist had shown them into the doctor’s office that afternoon.

Rex shook his head and settled into one of the armchairs beside the window.

The office was situated in a small village, high on one of the tallest hills in the area. There were panoramic views of lakes and fields, woods and tiny hamlets on all sides, and the place had a feel of deep seclusion about it. Large, high windows let in lots of light, and offered waiting patients a view of the surrounding landscapes.

After waiting for ten minutes, a door down a short hallway opened, and Doctor Wilson stepped out.

Her hand was comfortingly placed at the top of her patient’s arm, as she guided him back into the reception.

“Feel free to stay a few minutes and compose yourself, Mr Hardy. We had a very good session today.”

The man looked pale; Rex felt rather sorry for him as he sank into a chair and rubbed his face wearily.

Dom and Rex got to their feet and went over to Wilson.

Dom introduced the two of them, and they were shown into the patient room.

Two entire walls were made of glass, flooding the room with light.

Rex suspected the views helped to relax tense patients.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Dom said as they settled themselves into armchairs. “Can I ask, exactly what sort of doctor are you? Psychiatrist?”

“And hypnotherapist.” Wilson nodded.

“Hypnotherapy?” Dom asked, sounding interested. “What for?”

“All sorts. Weight loss, phobias, confidence building, quitting smoking.”

“Does it really work?” Rex asked sceptically.

“Yes. A few patients of mine who are terrified of dogs have gone out and bought a puppy a few months after completing their treatment.”

Dom looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Dr Wilson, we’re here about a… rather sensitive matter.” Rex said.

“I won’t repeat anything I hear.” She said comfortably, sipping a mug of peppermint tea.

“We’re investigating the deaths of three men in our constabulary. Currently, the only thing we can find connecting them is you.” Dom said.

“Do you know what I treated them for?” Wilson asked.

“No. We hoped you could help us. Two we know visited you for certain are Alan Patterson and James Hancock. Henry McCoy is a possible third.”

Wilson logged onto her computer and searched her files.

“Yes, I treated all three. In 2004, 2005, and 2007.”

“Can we ask what for?” Rex said.

She looked doubtful.

“They’re dead, so confidentiality isn’t an issue.”

“Alan Patterson underwent hypnotherapy treatment for ophidiophobia, his fear of snakes. James Hancock for his claustrophobia. He was terrified of being buried alive. He wouldn’t travel on the underground and avoided road tunnels and bridges wherever he could. He was even cautious about opening his wardrobe. Henry McCoy had acrophobia, a fear of heights.”

Rex frowned at Dom.

“Was their treatment successful?”

“To some extent. Alan could open his wardrobe without fear, and drive normally. He was still concerned about the underground, though. He stopped a few sessions before we were due to finish his programme; he told me he was moving away, and couldn’t come back. James was my least successful patient to date, I think. He was still immensely afraid of heights. Just looking at a roller coaster, a tall bridge or a large hill would make him feel panicky, he said. He only had three sessions before he left as well. Actually, he said he was moving home too.”

She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, before her face cleared and she smiled.

“Do you keep transcripts of your sessions with patients?” Rex asked.

“Yes, extensive ones.”

“Are they on your computer?”

“Yes, why?”

“It’s possible someone may have accessed your files in order to find Alan, James and Henry.”

Dom scrubbed his chin with a finger thoughtfully.

“Why target men with phobias though?” Rex muttered to him. “The ketamine would have given anyone nightmares, if they were suggestible.”

Dom nodded.

“Would it be possible for us to see your records, Doctor?” Dom asked. “Not the actual transcripts. We’d just like to see if there are any men in your records living in our constabulary now.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible without a warrant, Detectives.” Wilson said smoothly. “Some of my patients are very delicate, and won’t appreciate you prying into the history.”

“We don’t want to look at their history.” Rex said bluntly. “We just want to know if there are any men who have been treated for phobias by you living in our area. We can offer them protection, until we find the killer.”

“Get a warrant, and I’ll help you. Now, if that’s everything, gentlemen, I have patients to see.”

They were shown out of the office.

“Oh, one more thing, doctor.” Dom said as they reached the front door. “Do you remember any of the victims mentioning that they were homosexual? Or had been experiencing homosexual… urges?”

“No, none of them mentioned it.”

“Thank you.”