Jake Conley Mysteries Collection

Chapter 22

A partition wall separated the two men. In their own way, neither wanted to be where he was at that moment, and each was studying the other before their first meeting. Doctor David Richardson glanced through a sketchy report on his soon-to-be patient, PC Daniel Collins, provided to him by Chief Inspector Harveer Singh, and it took only a few words to pique his professional interest. He read:

PC Daniel Collins is a 33-year-old who enjoys praying, spreading right-wing p********a and drone photography. He is intelligent and reliable but can also be nervy and a bit untidy.

PC Daniel Collins is a 33-year-old who enjoys praying, spreading right-wing p********a and drone photography. He is intelligent and reliable but can also be nervy and a bit untidy.He is a Christian who defines himself as straight. He started university but did not finish the course and entered the force instead. Physically, Daniel is in good shape. He is average-height and carries no excess fat.

He is a Christian who defines himself as straight. He started university but did not finish the course and entered the force instead. Physically, Daniel is in good shape. He is average-height and carries no excess fat.He grew up in a middle-class neighbourhood and was raised in a happy family home with two loving parents. He is currently single. His most recent romance was with a receptionist called Letty Starr Burns, who is 19 years older than him. They broke up because Letty accused Daniel of being too materialistic.

He grew up in a middle-class neighbourhood and was raised in a happy family home with two loving parents. He is currently single. His most recent romance was with a receptionist called Letty Starr Burns, who is 19 years older than him. They broke up because Letty accused Daniel of being too materialistic.Daniel has two children with two different partners: ex-girlfriend Cara and ex-girlfriend Dottie: Isabel aged 10 and Sylvia aged 16, respectively.

Daniel has two children with two different partners: ex-girlfriend Cara and ex-girlfriend Dottie: Isabel aged 10 and Sylvia aged 16, respectively.Daniel"s best friend is our forensic scientist, Nancy Lambert. They are inseparable. He also socialises with PCs Gerald Benson and Kelby Glenn. They all enjoy jigsaw puzzles in their off-duty time.

Daniel"s best friend is our forensic scientist, Nancy Lambert. They are inseparable. He also socialises with PCs Gerald Benson and Kelby Glenn. They all enjoy jigsaw puzzles in their off-duty time.Doctor Richardson shrugged. This report told him almost as much about Chief Inspector Singh and his prejudices as it did about the constable in question.

At the same moment the psychologist finished reading this brief outline, the constable was edgily surveying the framed certificates on the waiting room wall. He didn’t want to be there, but he might as well know what manner of person would be checking on him. He read that the doctor was a Chartered Psychologist by the British Psychological Society (C. Psychol.), and another parchment inside a heavy gilt frame informed him he would meet an Associate Fellow of the British Psychological Society (A.F. B. Ps. S.) very shortly. Although it didn’t mean much to him, his eyes continued their perusal of the doctor’s qualifications: Member of the Division of Clinical Psychology of the British Psychological Society and Registered Psychologist with the Health and CARE Professions Council (H.C.P.C.).

Chartered Psychologist by the British Psychological Society (C. Psychol.), Associate Fellow of the British Psychological Society (A.F. B. Ps. S.) Member of the Division of Clinical Psychology of the British Psychological Society Registered Psychologist with the Health and CARE Professions Council (H.C.P.C.).Not that Daniel was impressed – he was only here because the chief inspector had given him a direct order. The constable wasn’t sure it was a psychologist or a long holiday, or both, he needed.

The call came, and he entered to find Doctor Richardson sitting in a comfortable swivel chair with a notepad on his thigh.

“Constable Collins, pleased to meet you. Now, I see your chief inspector has referred you to me; although he’s furnished me with a few details about you, he makes no mention of why he feels in need of my professional services. Perhaps you would be kind enough to enlighten me?”

“I’ll do my best, Doctor, but it’s all rather strange. May I begin by saying I probably wouldn’t have come to you of my own accord?”

“Mmm.”

The psychologist expected some kind of resistance. He had worked with policemen all over the United Kingdom, most of whom suffered from compassion fatigue. Attending road fatalities, knife attacks, school shootings and other unspeakable horrors took its toll of even the most independent, self-reliant, macho-like policeman. Collins looked exactly like the sort of tough individual who would suppress all emotional expression. But he would not pose a problem.

“The reason I’m here is for something that never usually happens in our line of work. I’m afraid I might seriously be cracking up.”

Doctor Richardson sat up and paid attention. This was promising from a clinical point of view.

“Go on.”

“Well, you’ll know about the beheading up at Elfrid’s Hole, I suppose?”

He looked at the doctor for confirmation. The psychologist studied him with a concerned expression and nodded before hastening to a wrong assumption – it was compassion fatigue, after all. The sight of a decapitated body and a severed head might destabilise the hardiest individual.

The constable continued, “We were put on a surveillance rota to guard the site, keeping ghouls, the press and ramblers away. A doddle, really, but that’s when strange things began to happen.”

“What kind of things?”

“I began to hear voices. Voices that came from the cavern. But when I went to investigate, of course, there was nobody there. It was empty. Probably the wind. The next day, I started to see things – like shifting shadowy shapes near the cave. Look, I don’t believe in ghosts and suchlike, but there was something definitely not right about those figures. At first, I thought it was the light and my imagination fooling my eyes into filling gaps between the gloom and the rock. I also felt an icy cold grip me, and I’ll admit I became fearful. You see, people don’t just appear and fade – these, well, I can’t really explain, they were, like, misty figures that flickered and dimmed. I got the feeling they were something that belonged to the earth, but at the same time had left it long ago. I’ve never run off the job before, but I couldn’t stay there! I was totally and utterly scared out of my wits.”

not right“So, now you’ve convinced yourself you’ve seen ghosts. Is that it?”

“How was I supposed to explain any of that to my colleagues and superiors?”

“But you did, didn’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Not exactly. It was my mate, Gerry – Gerard Benson, another constable – he knows me really well, and he dragged it out of me. He was fed up of seeing me mooching around with a long face. In the end, he winkled it out of me. Gerry knows me well enough to take it seriously and knows that I’d be the last person on earth to invent some crackpot story. That’s why he went to the Chief, and that’s why I’m here. There are ghosts up at the grotto, and I’ve seen them!”

A look of desperation came over his countenance.

“I’m telling you, I’m never going back up there! I’d rather lose my job.”

The psychologist jotted down a few notes but then looked at the policeman and spoke in a calm voice.

“And yet, going back there might be exactly what you need to overcome your anxiety. What if you were right all along? Might it not have been a trick of the light? And there’s another thing, Dan, – may I call you Dan?”

“Yeah.”

“I was saying, there’s another thing. Statistically, more than eighty-eight percent of the police admit to experiencing stress, and you wouldn’t believe how many suffer from poor mental health. It’s quite possible that the mind can induce the most unusual delusions when overtaxed. No,” he held up a hand, “hear me out. I’m not saying you’re crazy or a gibbering wreck. I’m saying that the kind of accumulative stress involved in policing could lead even a strong man, like yourself, to have a minor blip, let’s call it that.”

minor blip, “I’d like to believe that, Doctor, but how does it account for the icy feeling that gripped me at the same time?”

“The power of auto-suggestion. You’d probably read somewhere that people feel cold in the presence of ghosts. But let me assure you, as a man of science: ghosts don’t exist.”

Daniel Collins looked and felt embarrassed. The doctor was saying what he’d wanted to believe deep down all along. Only, he had felt cold, and he’d seen what he’d seen. He hadn’t invented it all by the power of his mind, and as a matter of fact, he hadn’t been stressed before going up to the damned cave. Daniel Collins decided the best course of action was to play the doctor along.

had“You’re quite right, doctor, I reckon I knew all this and suppressed it. It was just my imagination. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Ah, but you haven’t, my dear fellow. If I’ve been able to reassure you in that way, then I’ve done my job and can conclude my report for your chief. I’ll recommend he sends you back up there at the first opportunity.

Daniel paled but did not surrender to his desire to plead and cry aloud his fear of returning to the cavern. Somehow, he’d find a way of dodging out of it.

On his way to the station from the surgery, Daniel thought about the power of auto-suggestion and accepted that it might well be a way of creating self-delusion. Then he rejected the possibility as far as his own case was concerned. Surely, he thought, self-limiting programming as practised by Doctor David Richardson was worse. Why should he accept the word of one man, however specialised and highly qualified? He, Daniel Collins, knew himself better than any shrink – and he knew he had seen ghosts.

knewBack at the station, he found Gerry struggling with paperwork, the part of the job his friend liked least and which generally led to outbursts of bad language. This evening, the constable appeared calm and good-humoured.

“So, did you drive the shrink to drink, buddy?” Gerry laughed and put his ballpoint pen behind one of his prominent ears.

“He did his best to convince me that I spooked myself by the exceptional power of my massive brain.”

“Humph! I’m no psychologist, but I’ll go on record as saying that your brain ain’t that massive, pal. I’d go as far as to say–”

“Better not, Gerry, if you value the straightness of your nose!”

“Oooh, officer, the nasty bogeyman threatened me!”

How long this banter might have gone on Daniel would never know because Kelby came in, and as to Gerry as calcium carbonate is to camembert, he brought a serious tone to proceedings.

“Well, the good doctor tried to convince me that my ghosts were all a figment of my imagination. That I’d invented them by the power of auto-suggestion,” Daniel answered his enquiry.

Kelby stared at his friend, whom he had always admired for his stoical level-headedness. It was not possible, and besides…

“I’d have a word with the sergeant if I were you, Dan. He had a chap in here the other day, and I was there when he took his statement, who swears his girlfriend was murdered by one of your ghosts. It turns out one of them’s stalking him. Just saying…”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. The guy seemed quite regular too, not one of your head-cases. I’ll bet the serge can put you in touch with him.”

“I’ll get on to it. It’d be handy. Thanks Kel-lad!”