The Secrets You Hide: A Mind-Blowing Thriller (The Psychosis Series) (13 page)

“It is okay, Jack. You missed it…and Catherine…she missed it too.”

He looked up at me. I could see the suspicion on his face. He wasn’t sure what Catherine had to do with any of this. I bent forward in my chair, lowering my voice and soliciting his trust.

“You told me that you always used to spend the first few minutes of any conversation with Cathy in silence…but was that always the case, Jack? Or did it become a part of your and Cathy’s life only in the months preceding her death?”

I could tell from the dry look in his eyes that I was right. At some level, he already knew the truth that I was about to tell him.

“Those few moments of silence, Jack…that’s how you start every face to face conversation, isn’t it? Even if it is not Cathy? Sometime back…when we met in the alley, you kept quiet when we came face to face. But that was not to intimidate me, Jack…you kept quiet because your mind forced you to, isn’t that right? Every face to face conversation we have had, Jack…we started with a strange period of silence…when you just…when you would just look around saying nothing…

“None of that is an act, is it Jack? It is a compulsion…a manifestation of a thought or an idea you are obsessed with.”

I noticed his hand slip into the pocket of his coat which was hanging on the armrest of his chair. I had no idea what he was doing but I caught his gaze again and continued.

“Is it because you are obsessed with the idea that everybody should stop pretending…that nobody should be able to hide something from you…or lie to you? So you spend the first few minutes of meeting them in…in reading their reactions and noticing the details of their environment…that’s right, isn’t it, Jack?”

He suddenly closed his eyes as if he was trying to choke away everything that I was telling him. But I knew that I was on the right trail. I continued, more confidently, building upon my conjecture.

“And it kept getting worse. That obsession kept growing on you…over days and months…and you could not tell her…you could not tell Cathy because even you didn’t know what it was. You thought it was normal…a part of you. And she did not understand, did she?

“She could not see what you were going through. She thought you were suspicious…she thought you didn’t trust her anymore. And yet she loved you with all her heart. And it drained the life out of her…believing that you did not trust her enough to share your life with her. And…she decided that it was not a life worth living, to have the man she loved, look at her with suspicion and mistrust in his eyes. Did your obsession push her away, Jack? Did your obsession destroy her?”

I let my questions linger in the room. For a second, I turned my eyes to look at the mirrors on the walls surrounding me. The only thing I noticed were the images of Jack with his eyes closed in silence like he was praying, seeking forgiveness for everything he had done. I took a deep breath. Finally, I was getting through to him. I knew I was being cruel to him. In one sweep, I was destroying all the rationalization and all the denial that he had built over months and years. But I could not stop yet. I had to rescue my family.

I stood up from my chair and slowly walked up to him. I squatted on the floor and placed my palm on his left arm in a comforting gesture.

“It was not your mistake, Jack. It was your illness. That’s why people push you away. They think you don’t trust them. But they are wrong, aren’t they, Jack? You want to trust them…but you just can’t. Your mind won’t allow you.

“That is what happened to Cathy, Jack. She misunderstood like everybody else…like I did…till this moment. Even you did not know what was happening to you, Jack. You could not have known…”

His eyes flicked open and he looked at me for a second in a cold stare. Then he broke eye contact and looked down at the floor staring at his own reflection. I tried to hold his attention.

“But your illness did not stop there, Jack. It did not stop with her death…Cathy’s loss changed you. With her death, your obsessions just intensified…they evolved into something bigger…they became even more closely entwined with your need for control, pushing you further into the grip of the disease.

“Everything you have been doing …this story…this is all just…this is just you acting on your obsessions, isn’t it, Jack?”

Jack stood up all of a sudden taking me by surprise. I stumbled, losing balance and falling backward. He walked away for a second and when he turned around to face me, I saw in his hand a gun which he had extracted out of his coat. He pointed it at me.

He shook his head. “None of this makes any sense, doctor. None of this makes any sense. I did not kill my wife.”

I brought my hands before my face, frightened that he might shoot.

“Jack, no! No!”

“Get back into your chair, doctor” he screamed.

“Alright! Alright!”

I struggled to my feet and walked backward to my chair, sitting down into it. He did the same and sat back into his chair, with the gun still pointed at me. I looked down at the gun, hoping that it wasn’t loaded. Then I looked up at him, finding an opaque expression on his face.

“Jack,” I called out to him, “you promised me that we would hear each other without threats…we agreed that it was the only way we could complete this story.”

He didn’t move.

“Lower the gun, Jack. Let me complete.” I was surprised at how fearless I felt in that moment. He had a gun pointed at me and yet I felt in total control of the situation as if I could get him to do anything I wanted him to do…like I controlled him.

“Jack, you know that everything you are doing is wrong…you know that everything I have said is true. I can see that…I can see that in your eyes.

“You need to see it too, Jack. You need to get over what your mind is telling you to do. You need to trust me, Jack. I promise I can help you out of this.”

“I don’t need any help, doctor. We are very close to the end. It will be over soon.”

“No, Jack. It won’t be over. You are obsessed with the idea of demonstrating stories that will show the world the mirror…stories that will force the world to face its hypocrisy…You chose me as your first subject, Jack. You decided to make me and Annie and Sarah a part of this story. But this story will not be your last. When you are done, the same obsession will grip your mind again…you will feel the compulsion to tell another story…with a new set of people…a new set of characters. You will keep repeating this, Jack. Again and again…till you let someone treat you.

“You lost your family to this disease, Jack. That does not give you the right to justify taking away mine. Please stop, Jack! Stop before you reach the point of no return. Stop before you are so far gone that you cannot find your way back. Stop, Jack! I beg of you. Please, stop!”

I saw a tinge of regret on his face, a hint of doubt and internal debate.
Had he gone too far? Could he get back?

I thought about both our viewpoints as we stared into each other’s eyes. I thought about Paul and asked myself if he had had enough time to find Annie and Sarah. I wondered if Jack still believed that he had full control on how this story was about to end. And I wondered if I was right in believing that by including Paul, I had seized control out of Jack’s hands. For whatever it is worth, I still wanted to save Jack from himself.

In those moments of silence, it felt like our worlds– Jack’s and mine–were colliding and yet we were both busy living our own realities, living our own lies. I waited and waited for him to say something but he just sat there, not moving or saying anything, with his gun still pointed at my chest. I said nothing…because I had already told him everything I had to say. It was his turn to decide what he wanted to do.

Seconds and minutes passed before he broke the silence.

“I don’t think I can stop, doctor,” he said, destroying any and every hint of hope that I had.

He continued, “I can’t stop because the hard part is already done. I am trying to help you…I am trying to help the world get over its obsessions, doctor. Do you not see? Somebody has to save the world…somebody has to play the externality, doctor. Somebody has to make the sacrifice.”

“What do you mean, Jack?” I asked. “What do you mean when you say that the hard part is done?”

He said nothing. And then my phone rang, its sound booming loudly in the room. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked up at Jack.

“Take the call, doctor. I know who it is. I know it's Paul.”

Jack’s face contorted and he seemed at the edge of acknowledging all the sorrow that he had kept buried inside him for a very long time. But then he recovered, refusing to lower his gun, and refusing to back down. The pain and discomfort disappeared from his face and they were replaced by a cold and blank expression that gave nothing away. I could tell that even in that state, he was determined to see the story through. He wanted to experience the temporary release from his obsession and the only way he could do that was to bring the story to its end. I did not know what that meant for me or what end he had in mind.

“Take the call,” he said again, this time sounding more threatening.

I looked down at my phone, uncertain what information Paul was going to give me. But I hoped that he had finally found Annie and Sarah. He had.

17: Paul’s Debriefing Interview – Spanning Events Of Day 10

“After getting off the call with Oscar, I…I tried reaching the landline phone at my residence. But there was no response. I tried calling the number three times with no success.”

“And did you stop calling after that?” the debriefing officer asked.

“Yes, for some time. I decided to drive to my place because I suspected that I might find Annie and Sarah there. I stopped calling because I did not want to be distracted while driving. And I figured that I could try calling again once I got closer to my place. I also thought about calling Annie’s phone but there was the possibility that that phone was still with Jack.”

The debriefing officer said nothing. He was shaking a pen in his hand, waiting for Paul to continue.

“It was about noon. There was very little congestion on the road, so I was able to get to my residence in about twenty minutes.”

“And officer, if this report that I have here is correct, another officer deployed by the LAPD had reached your house before you.”

“Yes.” Paul said, “The officer had contacted me while I was on the way there. I was only five minutes out at the time so I requested him to stay put and not go into the house till I joined him there myself. I also warned him to be on high alert as the person who had broken into the house could be armed and dangerous.”

“When did you arrive at the scene?”

“Around 12:30 pm. Even as I got out of my car, I recognized the red sedan. It was unmistakably Annie’s car.”

Paul’s voice trailed off and he fell silent.

“What happened after that officer?”

Paul seemed to have blanked out for a few seconds. The interrogator asked again, “What happened after you arrived at the house, officer?”

Paul looked up.

“I walked up to the door with the other police officer following me. As I got close to the front door, I saw that it had been forced open…parts of the broken lock lay on the floor. I entered the house with my gun drawn out…I slowly passed the corridor to the right and entered the living room…And…and that is where I saw Annie and Sarah sitting on the sofa. Standing at the door of the living room, I could only see a part of their heads from behind. I…I called out their names but they did not turn around or offer any other response. I stepped closer and walked around them to see if they were okay.”

Both Paul and the debriefing officer said nothing for a few long seconds after that.

“Did you find anything else, officer?”

Paul struggled between words. “There was…a light blue envelope…lying on the table before them. It was identical to the envelopes I had seen at Jack’s place…it was similar to the envelopes which Robert had described in his emails.”

The interrogator pushed a couple of pages towards Paul.

“Officer, can you confirm that these pages are what you found inside that blue envelope.”

Paul looked down at the pages closely and nodded.

The first page had three words printed on it.
Follow the script.

“And it is after finding these pages, that you called Dr. Walker?”

“Yes,” Paul said.

18: Robert’s Recollection – Of Day 10

“Paul, I am listening,” I said into the phone. My eyes were fixed at Jack, who was sitting opposite me. His gun-holding hand was unflinchingly stable.

“He killed them, Robert.”

“Wh…what?” I struggled refusing to believe what I had heard. My mind was merely delaying the inevitable.

“Annie and Sarah are gone, Robert. Jack killed them at my…at my place. I am coming for you…”

A paralysis gripped my entire body. The phone slipped out of my hand and dropped onto the floor. It bounced a couple of times against the mirrored surface and came to a stop a few feet away. I could still hear Paul trying to say something over the call but I did not bother to pay attention. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

I looked up at Jack, my vision clouded by tears.

“We are so sure of the stories we hear, doctor,” said Jack, “We can always tell which character is the protagonist and which the antagonist. But real life has more blurred lines. We are all living the same story seen from different perspectives. And we are all the protagonists of our own stories…of the same story told from our own limited views.

“I intended for our story to have only two main characters, doctor–you and I. Your wife, your daughter, Paul…they were just unwitting participants who got pulled in by our actions and choices–yours and mine.

“They are all just…victims of this story. Casualties…of choices made by you and me.”

He fell silent. I sobbed, feeling every bit of the severe pain that had gripped my chest. I did not want to listen to him anymore. I was still seated in the chair, unbothered if he was coming after me next, unbothered if he was going to pull the trigger and punch holes into my body.

“I believe I should have told you…” he continued, “I should have probably told you what I did before we got into this room. But then we wouldn’t have had our wonderful conversation, doctor.

“I…I killed them today morning. When you were in the storage room in the clinic, I could tell who you would reach out to for help. It was so obvious. So I waited outside Paul’s house, watching him. I waited till he left in a hurry. He drove out after receiving some kind of communication from you, isn’t it, doctor? And once he was gone, I took Annie and Sarah in and I shot them inside his house.”

I cupped my head in my hands. I could not think. I could not process what was happening…what had happened…what was about to happen.

“There are only a few obsessions in life that you are willing to cross certain limits for...this must be mine.
I don’t know if I can make this any better for you. But I can tell you that killing them was hard…and I…I was not cruel to them. They were sedated when I carried them into Paul’s house. I killed them quietly, doctor. I used a silencer so both of them could die in peace. I hope they…they never felt the pain.

“I had to do it, doctor. It was what I had promised to do right at the start. At some level, I wasn’t the one that killed them. You did. You killed them by involving Paul.

“But I still feel like I should explain myself, doctor. I want to explain why I did not tell you about it before we walked into this room. I guess I can reference our previous conversation to explain myself. Hmm?”

Images of Annie and Sarah played before my eyes. Their voices echoed in my ears. The touch of their hands pinched my skin. I remembered the last time I had seen them…the last time I had seen them alive.

“Why would a writer hide critical details of his story from his audience, doctor? Why do you think I did that?”

I shook my head in denial, hoping that when I opened my eyes, all of this would go away…vanish like a nightmare.

“Because I wanted you to be fixated on how this ends, doctor. It's that not knowing…that uncertainty which kept you hooked. It pushed you to participate more actively. Because if you had known, you would never have been a part of this. Wouldn’t you agree?

“I hope you do, doctor. Because we do not have much time. We are almost at the end.”

He stood up and took a few steps forward. I saw the series of his reflections in the floor move towards me. I was rubbing my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was a pointless effort. The battle was already over. It was over many hours earlier with the death of my family. I was going to be the last casualty and I didn’t care, not in that moment.

“I told you long back that this world needs to be treated, doctor. This world is so obsessed with itself, it needs someone to play the externality and show it the mirror. An externality which can bring order to things and jolt it back into reality. It needs an externality to do…just what I am doing for you. I am trying to free you of your obsessions, doctor. I want you to be the example that the world can see and learn from. Between you and me, we are going to save the world. Can’t you appreciate that?

“When I started writing this story I wanted to rid you of every object of obsession you had…I wanted to see what was left of you once all of those layers were ripped away. But do you know what I have learnt from observing myself. Obsessions are not diseases. They cannot be treated with medicines. They cannot be cured. Obsessions, doctor…they don't subside…they just evolve. Eliminate one from your mind and another is waiting to grip you in its unforgiving clutches. There is only one real way to be free of them.”

He was standing to my right. The tears flowing out of my eyes had dried out and I just sat in the chair, defeated and looking away from him. I was waiting for my fate…for my death.

“Here…” he held my right hand and made me grip his gun,”…take this gun.” Then he stood behind me, holding my right hand in his like he was trying to make sure that the gun did not slip out of my hand.

“Let me tell you what’s special about this gun. It is the gun I used to kill Annie and Sarah.

“Now…do you know what you have to do?”

I turned my head ever so slightly to look at my right palm which was placed on the arm-rest within Jack’s firm grip. I caught the cold black metal of the gun glistening in the light inside the room but I could not feel my hands. There was no sensation of the gun’s weight pressing against my palm.

Jack placed his chin on my forehead from behind me. “Only one of us will walk out of this room, doctor. And it will have to be me…because my story…my masterpiece has to see the light of the day. But maybe…maybe a part of me will still be here, bouncing forever between these walls, growing smaller and smaller and fainter and fainter with time…but never disappearing. A small part of me will always be here with you.”

He bent forward and pressed the right side of his face against the left side of mine. Then he lifted my right hand and made me press the gun against my forehead on the right. It felt like a recreation of the scene that my father had authored decades in the past.

“I can’t be saved, doctor. But you should save yourself. Your entire life you have been obsessed with forgetting your past. You were destined to die that night…but you survived. You have always kept your emotions away…and that’s the reason you have never been able to understand the actions of your father in his last moments. How can you understand anybody without feeling their emotions, doctor? How can you understand your patients if you strip away their feelings and only assume their perspective?

“Feel the emotions now, doctor. Feel the naked emotions playing on your mind. Rid yourself of your obsessions by giving your life away…just like your father did. The world will learn from you…from this story…that the only way to end this is to make that one big sacrifice…to bring an end to all of this.”

I felt Jack’s grip on my hand loosen, but I still held the gun pointed at my head. Jack stepped away towards the door and then turned around to look at me, waiting for me to act.

I asked myself if I had anything to live for. My mind responded with silence. I had built my entire life around Annie and Sarah, the second family I had created after losing one in a forgotten history. Now, Annie and Sarah were lost in history too. They were gone and so was the new life I had constructed. There was nothing left for me to live for. And I was tired, knowing that I did not have it in me to start again.

I felt the weight of my father’s body against mine…preventing me from moving, from getting up, from throwing the gun away, from saving myself. I felt the trigger press against my finger and the muzzle of the gun press against the side of my forehead. I closed my eyes and remembered my father.

Everything will be okay, Rob.
I remembered his words but I could hardly recall the sound of his voice.

And then I stopped. I was not going to be weak. I was not going to be like my father.

A flood of emotions was breaking through the barriers of my consciousness. A sudden rage was pulsing through every muscle, every bone and every vein in my body.

“No, Jack,” I said blankly, not even sure if Jack was still in the room. “I am sorry.”

I stood up and turned to face him. He was standing quietly by the door looking at me. In a moment, we both knew what was going to happen. We both knew how the story was going to end.

“No!” he screamed and stepped threateningly towards me. I was destroying his story…refusing him the closure that he had been seeking. I was going to stop him. I was going to rid him of his obsessions. I was going to take revenge for what he had done to my family.

I raised the gun and shot him even as he rushed at me–once…twice…thrice…and again. He dropped to the floor and I continued to pull the trigger with the gun pointed at his chest till I heard the repeated hollow clicking of the gun’s hammer. When I finally came to my senses, I dropped the gun next to him as he lay motionless on the floor.

I raised my head and turning around in a circle, looked through the room. The mirrors had cracked in a few places where bullets had lodged in the walls after passing through Jack. Jack’s blood was dripping out onto the floor, spreading quietly over the smooth surface of the mirror. Every other place I looked, I saw my reflections looking back at me. I had killed him once in that room and I had killed him many times over in the infinitely many worlds that existed behind those mirrors. That moment of his death was going to keep repeating in that room forever…bouncing relentlessly between those walls. I did not know if that meant anything.

I stared back at my image in one of the mirrors. I thought about what Jack had said. I felt like I had finally found a release from an obsession–the obsession with not letting my emotions control me.
But obsessions never subside,
I told myself looking down at Jack,
they just evolve. What was my obsession going to evolve into?