A Plea of Insanity by Priscilla Masters Read Free Book Online Page A

smile. ‘Don’t want to overdo it, do I, doc?’
    ‘So you go in when you feel like it.’ Another black mark. ‘And you’re living where?’
    ‘With my mum. I’ve got a sort of self-contained flat there. Over the garage. My own kitchen and bathroom but my mum does most of the cooking.’
    ‘She’s a good cook?’
    It was only making conversation but something crossed his face. Anger. A flame lit the dark eyes, flickered, flared and was suppressed
. She noticed he didn’t answer the question.
    ‘So …’ She was suddenly at a loss. It was tempting to assume that everything in the garden was rosy. That Mr Barclay had finally learned the error of his ways and was going straight. Personality disorder was something you grew out of – eventually. Perhaps he had reached this point but Heidi had not recognised it. Or maybe. Just maybe he was simply being clever.
    ‘You manage all right for money?’ she floundered.
    An amused smile. ‘I manage. Thank you.’
    ‘Your job pays well?’
    ‘Enough.’
    ‘You mother helps you out?’
    ‘Don’t you think that that’s between my mother and myself?’ Said almost gently, in a soft voice. She bent over the notes so he couldn’t read her face.
    Time to ruffle your feathers, Barclay, and see what’s really going on
.
    She wrote something down on his notes: part time job, goes in when he feels like it.
    ‘Have you committed any offences in the last few months? You know we will check with the police,’ she added.
    The nice smile was back again. ‘No need for that. I’m clean.’
    ‘Good.’
    She put her pen down on the desk. ‘Have there been any times when you’ve been tempted to commit an offence?’
    He shook his head – almost ruefully.
    ‘Why is that, Jerome, do you think?’
    He blinked as though genuinely puzzled. ‘I expect I’ve grown out of my evil ways.’ Said with mockery.
    ‘Do you regret the cheque fraud and other offences?’ She deliberately left the sentence to hang, ambiguously. Let him read what he liked into it.
    She only wanted him to admit to the offences. Remorse would have been an unexpected bonus. It should have been easy for him to have affected remorse
.
    He leaned forward. ‘If you want the truth, Doctor Roget – regret? No.’ His eyes met hers, unblinking. ‘If I had attacked my mother – well it might have been because she was – she could be – the most unco-operative of women. And as for Sadie – well.’
    She was beginning to understand why Rolf, Siôna and Kristyna had alerted her to Barclay. Even amongst psychopaths he was King, displaying a complete disregard for the rules that existed between psychiatrist and patient – or client. And she began to realise that this consultation, like probably all the others, was nothing but a game to him, a game which he was beginning to find boring and tedious. He even smothered a yawn.
    Again she tried to flush him out
.
    ‘If you needed money? If the office job came to an end? What would you do?’
    ‘A bit hypothetical, Doctor.’
    ‘It is hypothetical. But how else can I know what stage you’ve reached?’
    ‘In my … cure?’
    She nodded, felt exposed.
    ‘If I was ‘cured’ you could bring the supervision order to an end?’
    She changed tack. Let
him
be the one to explain. ‘Why do you think Doctor Faro wanted you supervised so closely?’
    Barclay shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
    ‘You enjoyed coming here?’
    He shrugged again.
    ‘Do you think it’s brought about any improvement in your behaviour?’
    ‘Is there anything wrong in my behaviour?’ Said with a challenge. ‘You said yourself I’ve only been convicted of minor offences. As for the cheque –’ With an airy wave of the hand, ‘My mother would have given me money anyway.’
    ‘So why steal it?’
    Barclay made a face again. He was getting really bored now. He stood up. ‘Now – it’s nice to have met you but I really have to go. If that’s OK. When would you like to see me again?’
    Something