a confidential paper distributed by RAIN. Do you know of them?"
Jamie noted it down. "No, but please go on."
"RAIN is a government agency associated with the Ministry of Defense, so it's not under my portfolio. It stands for Research into Advanced Intelligence Network, and their work is aimed at high-risk but high-payoff programs that have the potential to provide Britain with an overwhelming intelligence advantage against future adversaries. That's about all I know, despite trying to find out more. I did see a report on psychic ability and its correlation with mental health, and Monro was one of the names on it. But the agency is incredibly secretive and I couldn't find out anymore. Perhaps you can, Detective. Perhaps it's related to his murder."
Jamie remembered the raindrop symbol on some of Monro's files. It could be connected to RAIN somehow, but what exactly was Monro's involvement?
"It's ironic that RAIN are studying mental illness," Matthew continued, a dark smile in his voice. "There are studies that show that over half of us would meet the diagnostic criteria for mental disorder in our lifetimes. But we keep our thoughts to ourselves so no one will notice the throes of insanity. We maintain a semblance of normality, but who knows what violence goes on behind the closed curtains of our minds? After all, pills can now make us better than well. Why feel even slightly down if you can pop a pill and make it go away, live in happy la-la land, dulled to sensation? Why be even hurt a little when you can medicate to oblivion?"
Jamie thought of the ephedrine she used as uppers, about the sleeping pills she took to keep the nightmares at bay.
"And what do your parents think about your work?" she asked.
Matthew held his arms wide and took a little bow. "I'm their golden boy, Detective." His voice was mocking, bitter. "Their son is an MP, a respected member of the community, on the TV and in the papers. Lyssa was the more spectacular but also the more disappointing. They judged her to be wanting and took her to a psychiatrist in her early teens. She started the medication then. It was only with me that she felt safe enough to come off the drugs." He took another deep breath. "Is it just me, or are you also sick of being conformist? Why can't we all go a little crazy sometimes?"
"But suicide?" Jamie said. "Surely you don't support it."
"I support the right of an adult to take their own life if it's a considered decision. Think about it. Some days it's a surprise that we continue to live. It's much harder to keep getting up and living in this world than it is to give up and relax into the darkness. Embracing oblivion is just a choice, Detective."
"But the misery of those left behind," Jamie said. "Your own grief at Lyssa's death? Surely that would be better avoided? She could have created more, perhaps found happiness on another day."
Matthew ran his fingers along a crack that wound its way up from the fireplace to the ceiling. In any other house, it would have been plastered over, filled in and fixed. But here, it had been made a feature, and Jamie noticed the hands of tiny creatures emerging from the plaster, drawn in black ink. It was hard to tell whether they were imps from a dark place, or fairies coming forth with a blessing.
"Lyssa believed in embracing the cracks in our lives," Matthew said, his voice tinged with a sigh. "But her death was not such a simple thing."
"How did she …?"
"We rented a garage in the next street. I've never needed a car in London, but Lyssa loved to drive. It gave her a sense of freedom and escape. Sometimes she would drive to the ocean for the day, just to see the horizon in shades of blue. She loved the mad weather." Matthew laughed a little. "You know what I mean."
Jamie nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"She had been away the weekend before, some special retreat Monro had got her into, so I didn't see her much that week. The final day, she glammed
Jamie noted it down. "No, but please go on."
"RAIN is a government agency associated with the Ministry of Defense, so it's not under my portfolio. It stands for Research into Advanced Intelligence Network, and their work is aimed at high-risk but high-payoff programs that have the potential to provide Britain with an overwhelming intelligence advantage against future adversaries. That's about all I know, despite trying to find out more. I did see a report on psychic ability and its correlation with mental health, and Monro was one of the names on it. But the agency is incredibly secretive and I couldn't find out anymore. Perhaps you can, Detective. Perhaps it's related to his murder."
Jamie remembered the raindrop symbol on some of Monro's files. It could be connected to RAIN somehow, but what exactly was Monro's involvement?
"It's ironic that RAIN are studying mental illness," Matthew continued, a dark smile in his voice. "There are studies that show that over half of us would meet the diagnostic criteria for mental disorder in our lifetimes. But we keep our thoughts to ourselves so no one will notice the throes of insanity. We maintain a semblance of normality, but who knows what violence goes on behind the closed curtains of our minds? After all, pills can now make us better than well. Why feel even slightly down if you can pop a pill and make it go away, live in happy la-la land, dulled to sensation? Why be even hurt a little when you can medicate to oblivion?"
Jamie thought of the ephedrine she used as uppers, about the sleeping pills she took to keep the nightmares at bay.
"And what do your parents think about your work?" she asked.
Matthew held his arms wide and took a little bow. "I'm their golden boy, Detective." His voice was mocking, bitter. "Their son is an MP, a respected member of the community, on the TV and in the papers. Lyssa was the more spectacular but also the more disappointing. They judged her to be wanting and took her to a psychiatrist in her early teens. She started the medication then. It was only with me that she felt safe enough to come off the drugs." He took another deep breath. "Is it just me, or are you also sick of being conformist? Why can't we all go a little crazy sometimes?"
"But suicide?" Jamie said. "Surely you don't support it."
"I support the right of an adult to take their own life if it's a considered decision. Think about it. Some days it's a surprise that we continue to live. It's much harder to keep getting up and living in this world than it is to give up and relax into the darkness. Embracing oblivion is just a choice, Detective."
"But the misery of those left behind," Jamie said. "Your own grief at Lyssa's death? Surely that would be better avoided? She could have created more, perhaps found happiness on another day."
Matthew ran his fingers along a crack that wound its way up from the fireplace to the ceiling. In any other house, it would have been plastered over, filled in and fixed. But here, it had been made a feature, and Jamie noticed the hands of tiny creatures emerging from the plaster, drawn in black ink. It was hard to tell whether they were imps from a dark place, or fairies coming forth with a blessing.
"Lyssa believed in embracing the cracks in our lives," Matthew said, his voice tinged with a sigh. "But her death was not such a simple thing."
"How did she …?"
"We rented a garage in the next street. I've never needed a car in London, but Lyssa loved to drive. It gave her a sense of freedom and escape. Sometimes she would drive to the ocean for the day, just to see the horizon in shades of blue. She loved the mad weather." Matthew laughed a little. "You know what I mean."
Jamie nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"She had been away the weekend before, some special retreat Monro had got her into, so I didn't see her much that week. The final day, she glammed
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