Anxious People(26)

“Why do you think that’s what she’s thinking?”

“Don’t all intelligent people think about that, some time or other?”

At first the psychologist was going to reply with some practiced phrase she had learned during her training, but she was well aware that wouldn’t help. So she replied honestly instead: “Yes. Maybe. What do you think stops us?”

Zara leaned forward and moved two pens on the desk so they were lying parallel. Then she said: “Fear of heights.”

There isn’t a person on this planet who could have said there and then with any certainty if she was joking or not. The psychologist considered her next question for a long time.

“Can I ask, Zara—do you have any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” Zara repeated, but not in an entirely condescending way.

The psychologist elaborated: “Yes. Are you involved in any charities, for instance?”

Zara shook her head silently. The psychologist thought at first that it was a compliment that she didn’t just fire back with an insult, but the look in Zara’s eyes made her hesitate, as if the question had toppled and broken something inside her.

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” the psychologist asked anxiously, but Zara had already looked at the time, stood up, and was now walking to the door. The psychologist, who hadn’t been a psychologist long enough not to be struck by panic at the thought of losing a patient, found herself saying something quite remarkably unprofessional: “Don’t do anything silly, now!”

Zara stopped at the door, surprised.

“Such as what?”

The psychologist didn’t know what to say, so she smiled awkwardly and said: “Well, don’t do anything silly… before you’ve paid my bill.”

Zara let out a sudden laugh. The psychologist joined in. It was harder to identify the extent to which that was also unprofessional.



* * *




While Zara was standing in the elevator, the psychologist sat in her office staring at the woman in the painting, surrounded by sky. Zara was the first person who had ever suggested that the woman might be thinking of ending her life, no one else had looked at it like that.

The psychologist herself always felt that the woman was gazing off toward the horizon in a way that can only have two explanations: longing or fear. That was why she had painted the picture, as a reminder to herself. It was the sort of subject psychologists love, because you can look at it for ages without noticing the most obvious thing. The fact that the woman is standing on a bridge.





25


Witness Interview (Continued)





JIM: I feel stupid now.

ZARA: I don’t suppose that’s a new feeling for you.

JIM: If I’d known you ran a bank, obviously I wouldn’t have said that. Well, I mean, I shouldn’t have said it anyway. I’m not really sure what to say now.

ZARA: In that case, perhaps I can just leave?

JIM: No, hold on. Look, this is all a bit embarrassing. My wife has often told me that I should just keep my mouth shut. I’ll stick to my questions from now on, okay?

ZARA: Let’s give it a try.

JIM: Can you describe the robber? Anything at all that you can remember about him, anything you think could be helpful to our investigation.

ZARA: You already seem to know the most important thing.

JIM: And that is?

ZARA: You said “him,” so you evidently know he was a man. That explains a lot.

JIM: I have a feeling I’m likely to regret asking this, but why?

ZARA: You lot can’t even piss without missing the target. So obviously things are going to go wrong if you get hold of a pistol.

JIM: Can I interpret that as meaning you don’t remember any details about his appearance?

ZARA: If someone’s wearing a mask and pointing a pistol at you, a psychologist would probably compare the trauma to almost being run down by a truck: you’d be unlikely to remember the number on the license plate.

JIM: I have to say, that’s a very insightful observation.

ZARA: That’s a relief, because what you think really matters to me. Can I go now?

JIM: Not yet, I’m afraid. Do you recognize this drawing?

ZARA: Is that what it is? It looks like someone’s knocked over a urine sample.

JIM: I’ll interpret that as a no to the question of whether or not you recognize the picture.

ZARA: Very clever of you.

JIM: Where in the apartment were you when the bank robber came in?

ZARA: By the balcony door.

JIM: And where were you during the rest of the hostage drama?

ZARA: What difference does that make?

JIM: Quite a lot of difference.

ZARA: I can’t imagine why.

JIM: Look, you’re not a suspect. Not yet, anyway.

ZARA: Sorry?

JIM: Well, look. What I’m trying to get you to understand is that you need to try to understand that my colleague is convinced that one of the hostages helped the bank robber to escape. And it seems odd that you were there at all, to put it bluntly. To start with, you had no reason to want to buy the apartment. And you don’t appear to have been frightened when the bank robber aimed his pistol at you.

ZARA: So now you suspect that I helped the bank robber to escape?