People wanted his head.

Let the fucker die. He killed kids. He can starve.

He was evil. So, if he no longer existed, it wasn’t real. It’s the opposite of how people view God and religion.

And this is humankind.

This is how much they want to know.

This is how they treasure the truth.

This is how dearly they crave justice.

This is why they all jump.

105

Detective Sergeant Pace is buzzed into the ERMA offices for his sixth and final session.

It’s the last time he has to trudge up that stairwell and along the wood-clad corridor to Artaud’s office. He stops outside the doctor’s door and looks around at the other three identical doors. Milton, Rossi and Erickson are all accounted for though he has never seen anyone other than his own psychiatrist, even though Erickson is the one who apparently always works the latest.

He taps on the door four times with his knuckles.

‘Come in,’ says the kindly voice he recognises from inside.

And Pace pushes into the office.

‘Ah, Detective, good evening.’ Artaud stands up behind his desk to receive his patient. ‘Our final session.’ And there’s something like a smile on his face, though his mouth doesn’t open to show teeth and his lips are hidden behind his beard.

‘This is the big one,’ Pace jokes. Then he sits down, letting the weight of his torso crash into the upright portion of the chair. ‘Let the healing begin.’

Artaud has come to know his patient over the five intimate hours they have spent together. Even that first session, when hardly anything was said. You can really get the measure of a person from the amount of time they can spend not saying anything. It demonstrates discipline and resolve. Pace was no walkover.

‘Let me start this final hour by saying that I have already cleared you. Any concerns your superiors may have had about your ability to function at full capacity in your role seem to be misplaced.’

‘I knew that.’

‘Quite. Whether you are or are not in some kind of a relationship with a former witness or defendant is inconsequential, really. It is not affecting your outlook. Though I will not be so candid in my report.’ He nods as if they have some agreement.

‘And this report, I guess I never get to see what you write in that? So you could be stringing me along, right? So I say something stupid in this session.’

‘Is there something stupid that you have been holding back on?’

For a moment, Artaud slips back into his role as Pace’s therapist.

‘No. I’m just checking.’

‘I will send my report, along with an invoice, to the police station. You will also receive a letter from me, Detective. I will mail it out tomorrow and it will arrive with you the following day. It’s nothing important. But you should read it all the same.’

‘So, what do we talk about today, if it’s all settled?’