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

stung her in his manner. It was for her to set out parameters. Not him. ‘This isn’t a game, Mr Barclay.’
    Then the pale eyes regarded her. And he was still bored. ‘I’m perfectly aware that this isn’t a game, Doctor Roget. I’m the one who has to attend here every month or so.’
    ‘And I would also like to remind you that if these orders aren’t complied with to the letter we are perfectly entitled to admit you under the Mental Health Act. Do you understand, Mr Barclay?’
    ‘Perfectly, Doctor Roget.’
    ‘So sit down.’
    Now he wasn’t bored. He was angry.
    ‘Have you a girlfriend at the moment?’
    He yawned again. ‘No one special.’
    ‘Not Sadie?’
    He looked really amused then. ‘You really don’t know anything, do you?’
    She felt at a disadvantage but recovered herself. ‘I’ll learn, Mr Barclay, I’ll learn. Quickly.’
    His smile was supercilious now.
    ‘Well,’ she stood up now. ‘Thank you for coming.’
    Barclay shook her hand, smiled, asked when she wanted to see him again and made for the door. But just before he passed through it he turned, gave her another of his bland smiles. Nothing threatening. ‘Might I make a suggestion, Doctor Roget?’
    ‘Certainly.’
    ‘Read my notes. Thoroughly. From beginning to end. Get to know me, Doctor.’

Chapter Four
    She didn’t press the buzzer for another patient for a few minutes. Barclay had left her feeling drained, vulnerable, inadequate and thoughtful. She regained her equilibrium then started again, working her way steadily through the rest of the afternoon’s patients. At the end she picked up Jerome Barclay’s buff file with the blue star in the corner. He had thrown down the gauntlet. It was difficult not to pick it up.
     
    But she had other patients.
    At the end of her clinic Claire had promised to see both Kap Oseo and Nancy Gold. She had enough to do but still she parcelled up Jerome Barclay’s files. She would take them back to her office and read through them there. They would be a useful case study.
     
    She found Kap on the locked ward, heavily sedated, lying in his bed. He’d wet himself. She could smell the ammonia-stink of urine as soon she walked through the door.
    ‘Kap,’ she ventured. ‘Kap?’
    He rolled towards her, the whites of his eyes showing clearly. A skinny Jamaican with closely cropped hair. She sat down in the chair. Less threatening than bending over him.
    ‘I’m Doctor Roget, here to help you, Kap.’
    He grunted.
    ‘How are you feeling?’
    ‘Bad, man. I feel rough.’
    ‘Kap – no one wants to hurt you here.’
    He gave a long sigh. ‘You just don’t understand.’
    ‘I do – at least I try to. No one is against you here. We’re trying to help you.’
    ‘Why they talk about me, then? You tell me. Why they do that?’
    ‘I don’t think they talk about you, Kap.’
    Frank contradiction is not a good idea. Always leave a chink of daylight for the paranoiac to creep through.
    The patient is not wrong but possibly mistaken.
    ‘Kap, they said you picked up a knife. Why did you do that?’
    His eyes seemed to lose their focus. ‘I got to protect myself.’
    ‘Who from?’
    He waved a hand around the room. ‘I just got to. Nobody seem to do it for me.’
    ‘You don’t need protection.’
    He rolled away, back to face the wall. ‘Like I said, Sister, you just don’t understand.’
    ‘OK then, try and explain to me. Who do you need protecting from?’
    ‘They come in the night,’ he whispered, ‘This place full of tears. I don’t want to die, Sister. Not like the doctor.’
    There was something shocking about the matter-of-fact way that he spoke, as though Heidi’s murder was fact, well known and widely accepted. Kap Oseo didn’t display horror – or shock or even distaste.
    She protested. ‘What do you mean – not like the doctor?’
    Kap Oseo sat up then, bolt upright. He really was frightened. ‘Doctor Faro. She always was good for me. Look what happen to her.’ He