Medea's Curse by Anne Buist Read Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t certain why after all this time the situation
had reached crisis point for Jessie.
    She watched Jessie leave through the car park and get into a beaten-up Commodore.
A gangly man with a ponytail of mousy hair, who had been leaning against the car,
tossed a cigarette into the gutter and moved into the driver’s seat. Jay, she assumed.
    The rest of the day dragged. Natalie didn’t get her mail until she was about to leave.
Beverley passed her a USB stick. Natalie frowned. ‘What’s this?’
    ‘Arrived in the mail. I’d forgotten,’ said Beverley. ‘In a red envelope. No explanation.
I thought you must have been expecting it.’
    Natalie was pretty sure Beverley hadn’t thought about it at all. She fingered the
small red device, worried about the possibility of a virus, but curiosity won. It
contained a single Word document. She opened the file.
    Just one line. I wouldn’t get too close if I were you.
    She hated the adrenaline that surged through her, didn’t want to believe that one
stupid sentence could make her feel so vulnerable.
    She took a breath, closed the file and put the USB in her top drawer.
    Instead of getting on her bike and going straight home she walked to the nearest
newsagents, ten minutes away. The first card had been hand delivered, and she was
certain the USB came from the same author. In the back of the shop were the same
red envelopes and cards, but of course the girl behind the counter had no recollection
of anyone buying any the previous week. Natalie hadn’t really thought she’d get any
useful information. There was nothing she could report that anyone could do anything
about in any case.
    She just needed to be proactive in some way.

Chapter 7
    ‘From a diagnostic point of view,’ said Natalie, ‘Georgia presents some interesting
possibilities. The differential diagnoses to consider are Dissociative Identity Disorder—D.I.D.—and
a personality disorder, Cluster B.’ She smiled at Wadhwa and clicked the mouse.
    Georgia’s case conference at Yarra Bend had attracted most of the hospital’s forensic
psychiatrists and registrars, as well as several psychologists and a few nurses.
Today Corinne was also present. There were obvious similarities with the well-publicised
case of Kathleen Folbigg, a New South Wales mother convicted of killing her four
children, largely on the basis of her diary entries. The previous week’s discussion
of Celeste’s treatment-resistant schizophrenia had not been such a crowd-puller.
    Natalie’s new slide showed a list of symptoms.
    ‘These are the symptoms of D.I.D.,’ she said, clicking again. A tick, a question
mark or a cross came up against each symptom. There were only three ticks. She progressed
to the next slide.
    ‘And these are the symptoms of borderline, narcissistic and antisocial personality
disorder.’ The next click brought up an array of ticks and a few question marks.
Only two crosses. ‘As you can see,’ said Natalie, avoiding Wadhwa’s eyes, ‘there
seems to be more evidence suggestive of a personality disorder in Georgia’s case.’
Catching Corinne’s stern expression she added, ‘At this stage.’
    ‘Dr King,’ Wadhwa interjected, ‘there is no reason she cannot have both D.I.D. and a personality disorder. Indeed, a childhood abuse history is essential to both diagnoses.
She will not have a robust personality structure; this will predispose her to a Dissociative
Identity Disorder. This can be read about in my paper in the Journal of—’
    ‘I agree,’ said Natalie. Her registrar hid a giggle at Wadhwa’s open-mouthed stare.
‘In general. In Georgia’s case though’—she clicked back to the list of D.I.D. symptoms
—‘this remains to be proven, don’t you think? Particularly given narcissistic and
antisocial traits came up on the MMPI inventory.’ Unable to stop herself smiling
as she said it, she added, ‘As well as the high lie score.’ The registrar was less
successful this time, turning the