‘Which category does Ruth fall into?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Ruth was different. She could be extremely charming. She could put on a personality, when it suited her, but the person underneath was very cold. I believe that she showed traits of narcissism, of sociopathy, even as a young girl.’
‘But she loved her sister,’ Judith said. ‘From what the Giffords said, she was extremely protective of her.’
Lawrence sighed heavily.
‘You don’t think Ruth loved Miriam?’
‘What Ruth felt for Miriam, I believe, was more primitive than love.’ He kept his eyes looking forward as he spoke, staring out into space, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. ‘For most of us, loving someone means that we care about their wellbeing. We want them to be happy and we accept their autonomy. I don’t think Ruth was capable of that kind of love. Instead, Miriam served as what psychologists sometimes callnarcissistic extension. Ruth and Miriam shared the same trauma, the same abandonment. In Ruth’s mind, Miriam wasn’t a separate person to be loved, but rather the only other person who trulywasRuth. When she looked at Miriam, she saw her own reflection, her own pain, her own experience validated.’
Judith tried to digest this. She felt both disturbed and reassured. She’d seen an echo of herself in Ruth, she couldn’t deny that, but they were fundamentally different people in the end. Judith didn’t have many close relationships, but she was capable of love. She loved Katy, and all of Katy’s family. Loved Rocky. She loved them all in a healthy way. And Ruth, it seemed, couldn’t do that. Why? Because Ruth’s experience had been worse than hers? Because she hadn’t had someone like Rocky to be a mentor and a friend? Because she hadn’t had a Katy, who had always been Judith’s sister in every way that mattered? Ruth had lost her only sister to suicide.
‘You’ve suggested that Ruth may be seeking revenge for Miriam’s death. That makes sense to me. Miriam’s death would have enraged her. But she wouldn’t grieve the way you or I might. For Ruth, losing Miriam would be more like losing a limb or having part of her identity torn away. Ruth’s revenge isn’t about justice for Miriam; it’s about avenging an attack on herself.’
‘If she felt so strongly, then why did she wait ten years? Why now?’
Lawrence shook his head. ‘I can’t answer that question for you. Something might have triggered her—an anniversary, or seeing one of her targets living happily. Something of that nature.’
Judith thought it through. ‘I still find it hard to believe that Ruth didn’t love her sister. I’m not saying it wasn’t twisted, but...’ She let her voice trail off. She didn’t know why she was resisting the idea, except the whole thing seemed so much sadder, so much more screwed up, if there’d never been love.
Lawrence gave her a careful look. ‘Like I said, I haven’t seen Ruth Hall since she was a child. And I’m not a psychologist anymore.’ He got to his feet slowly, and looked down at her with compassion in his eyes. Compassion for her? Suddenly uncomfortable, Judith wondered what he saw when he looked at her. He continued. ‘Miriam was probably the only person in the world who ever made Ruth feel like she wasn’t alone in her mind. When she died, Ruth lost the only mirror that reflected back her own existence as meaningful. That may not be love, but it’s tragic in its own way.’
Judith stood too. ‘You remember her well,’ she said.
He smiled ruefully. ‘I remember them all well. That was my problem.’
‘What do you do now, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘My wife has a business. I’m doing her bookkeeping. Badly, probably, but it keeps me busy.’
She wanted to ask him more, about what it was like to be on the outside, whether he ever looked back and missed it. Not that being a psych was the same as being a cop. They were entirely different.
‘Thanks for your time,’ she said.
‘I should be thanking you, really.’
‘Oh?’
‘You’ve reminded me why I left. Not, I think, that I needed the reminder. But it doesn’t hurt.’ He gave her a nod, and walked away.
Judith walked slowly back to where she’d parked her bike, Lawrence Barr’s words echoing through her mind. She was certain now that Ruth was behind the murders. She’d set out to take revenge on three people, the three people she blamed for her sister’s death; Robert Walker, Jack Miller and Elsa Anderson. Doris Anderson was just collateral damage. Three boxes, and three ruined lives. So perhaps she was finished now. She’d taken her revenge. Judith was convinced that Jack Miller was innocent, and Rocky was surely convinced of that now too. Jack would be released from custody. But would he be safe, if Ruth was out there in the wind? Judith didn’t think so.
Judith thought about what Barr had said about Ruth being a voyeur, about her watching the objects of her latest obsession. Well, if what Barr said was true, Ruth wouldn’t have been able to watch any of her targets easily. All three of her victims lived in very expensive neighbourhoods with multimillion-dollar homes. The Andersons had security cameras. So did the Walkers. And Jack Miller’s apartment was a rear property that couldn’t be easily watched from the road.
Of course, Robert Walker had had his rooms near the university. There were flats near his office building that weren’t wildly expensive, that probably came up for rent fairly regularly. But they wouldn’t have been an attractive option for Ruth, surely. She wouldn’t have been able to get anything much from setting up in close proximity to his rooms. Just the ability to watch Robert Walker go in and out of work a few times a week.
Something occurred to Judith. She took out her phone and called Rocky. He answered immediately.
‘Look, it’s probably nothing, but I spoke to someone who said that Ruth Hall was a voyeur when she was younger. She fixated on people and then she watched them. She liked to get close. It occurred to me, if she is behind all of this, she might have tried to hack the Andersons’ security cameras. Or the Walkers’.
‘I’ll have Arnie check the cameras,’ said Rocky.
‘Great.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Just that I think it would be worth checking Jack Miller’s cameras too.’
