The Shadow Bird

Ann Gosslin

Description

'A gripping book full of twists and turns.' Alice Clark-Platts
'Unsettling and beautiful' Allie Reynolds
'Kept me guessing until the very end with a brilliantly clever twist that I really didn’t see coming' Sarah Pearse
'A little gem' GJ Minett

Three months into her new role as a psychiatrist at a clinic in New York, Erin Cartwright is asked to evaluate the case of a man who murdered his mother and sisters at the age of seventeen.

Found not guilty by reason of insanity and held in a maximum-security psychiatric facility for twenty-seven years, Timothy Stern is now eligible for release. Upon learning the crime occurred in the same village she once visited as a child, Erin is on the verge of refusing to take the case, when a startling discovery triggers memories she’d rather keep hidden, and a suspicion the wrong man is behind bars.

'A gripping book full of twists and turns' Alice Clark-Platts

'An unsettling and beautifully written psychological crime thriller, infused with a sense of menace from the first line. The mystery kept me guessing throughout and didn't disappoint. I was engrossed!' Allie Reynolds

'I loved The Shadow Bird – it’s such a compulsive read and kept me turning the pages into the early hours. Ann writes with real elegance and evokes such a strong sense of place – especially of Maine in both the present day and the flashbacks. The characters were brilliantly well-drawn and I loved Erin’s dogged determination in seeking out answers about her own past and Tim’s - it has so much to say about the reliability of our memories and how much we can trust our own minds. The plot was gripping and kept me guessing until the very end with a brilliantly clever twist that I really didn’t see coming!' Sarah Pearse

'A little gem… a really accomplished debut novel which kept me intrigued throughout. I'll be following this new name with interest' GJ Minett

Sujets

• New york
• Page Turner
• Denise Mina
• In the Woods
• Laura Lippman
• The Trespasser
• Psychiatrist
• Psychology
• Karin Slaughter
• Tana French
• Asylum
• Dark
• Secrets
• Conviction
• Suspense
• Thriller
• Orient

Informations

• Publié par: Legend Press
• Date de parution: 15 juillet 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781789551167
• Langue: English

Extrait

Legend Press Ltd, 51 Gower Street, London, WC1E 6HJ
[e-mail] | www.legendpress.co.uk
Contents Ann Gosslin 2020
The right of the above author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data available.
Print ISBN 978-1-78955-1-150
Ebook ISBN 978-1-78955-1-167
Set in Times. Printing Managed by Jellyfish Solutions Ltd
Cover design by Rose Cooper | www.rosecooper.com
All characters, other than those clearly in the public domain, and place names, other than those well-established such as towns and cities, are fictitious and any resemblance is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Ann Gosslin was born and raised in New England in the US, and moved overseas after leaving university. Having held several full-time roles in the pharmaceutical industry, with stints as a teacher and translator in Europe, Asia, and Africa, she currently works as a freelancer and lives in Switzerland.
The Shadow Bird is Ann s debut novel. Her second novel, The Double , will be published by Legend Press in 2021.
Visit Ann www.anngosslin.com
Follow her @GosslinAnn
Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form.
Herman Melville
1
The Meadows
Lansford, New York
February, Present Day
The dark hair, hacked off with a kitchen knife, was the only sign of anything wrong. Asleep in the narrow bed, her face scrubbed clean of make-up, she could be any ordinary girl, dreaming of boys and Saturdays at the mall. But once the drugs wore off, she would surely resurface to whatever nightmare had brought her here.
Erin pressed her fingers to the girl s wrist and waited for the flutter of blood. Like any good doctor, she tried to keep her emotions in check, but some patients distressed her more than others. If one of the staff going off their shift hadn t spotted the girl s body in a snowbank by the gate, she would not have survived the night. In her shoulder bag, they d found a four-inch paring knife, a handful of hair, and two keys on a plain metal ring. But no ID, and six hours later still no news from the police.
During those first frantic minutes in the clinic s emergency bay, after they carried her inside, Erin had stripped off the glittery top and torn tights, desperate to rub some life into the girl s frozen limbs. Only to find that the skin on her arms and thighs had been cut and re-cut. A network of hash marks, intricate as fish scales.
Pellets of snow ticked against the window. Erin turned her head, sensing rather than seeing the snowdrifts banked against the glass. Too dark to see much of anything beyond the spectral shrubs, shrouded in snow.
A commotion broke the silence. High heels smacking the stone floor like gunshots. Erin stepped into the hall to see a young nurse hurrying towards her, a panicky look in her eyes.
We ve got trouble. I paged Dr Westlund, but he s not here yet.
At the far end of the reception hall, a woman in a short coat and black leather boots was arguing with the duty nurse. She slammed her palm on the counter, hissed through her teeth. Tall, taffy-blonde hair, the mouth a red slash.
Erin froze. Could it be? No. She hesitated in the shadows, her heart bumping her ribs.
I want to see my daughter. Cassie Gray. Where is she?
Cassie . And this was the girl s mother. Not the warm, suburban matron Erin was hoping for.
The duty nurse seemed to have the situation under control, but where was Niels? They had a protocol for cases like this. But he wasn t here, and this couldn t wait.
Erin straightened her shoulders and approached the desk. I m Dr Cartwright. Your daughter is out of danger, but she s sleeping now. If you could perhaps keep your voice down
Spiky earrings, cheap perfume, that hard red mouth. The woman towered over her like a Valkyrie. What are you looking at, Tinkerbell?
Tinkerbell. Was it her size or the British accent that set the woman off?
A retort sprang to mind, but Erin stifled the urge. She was used to dealing with angry parents. I m sure this is all very upsetting, but if you ll just try to stay calm-
Calm? I get a call from some punk in the middle of the night that my daughter s in this nuthouse, and you want me to stay calm? Screw you. She shoved Erin hard on the shoulder and pushed past.
Pain shot down Erin s arm and she gasped. Before she could react, the woman had clattered halfway down the hall in those ridiculous boots. If someone didn t stop her, she d wake the entire clinic.
But there was Niels at last, striding through the vaulted atrium, jaunty and alert at six in the morning. His blue Oxford shirt and tan chinos were perfectly pressed, the parting in his hair razor-straight. Was that where he d been, standing in front of a mirror combing his hair?
As he approached Cassie s mother, his broad face was wreathed in the appropriate degree of concern. I m Dr Westlund. He extended his hand. Please be assured your daughter is getting the very best care.
The woman jerked back before he could touch her. If you think I m going to let you people mess with her head, you ve got another thing coming. I want to see her.
Let s wait until she s awake, shall we? Niels flicked a piece of lint from the sleeve of his white coat. If it were up to me, Mrs Gray, I d let you have a quick peek in her room, just to ease your mind. But I don t make the rules.
I have a right to see her. I m her mother. Her face was deathly pale in the muted light.
I m sorry. He shook his head. Why don t you go home now and get some rest. We ll call you as soon as we know more.
With a determined look, she pushed past Niels and continued down the hall, shouting her daughter s name. But she didn t get far before a security guard emerged from the shadows and blocked her path. For a moment, she seemed poised to lunge at the guard s throat, but stopped short and whirled to face them.
All right, I ll go. You can call off your thugs.
That mouth, that sneer. Erin s heart missed a beat. Only after the woman was escorted to the door and through the front gate could she breathe normally.
Cassie .
She hurried to the girl s room. Still asleep, her wan face framed by the sad tufts of hair. Erin smoothed the blanket under her chin. You re safe here, she whispered. I ll protect you. A prickling sensation needled her palms.
You wish. No one is safe .
That voice again - whose?
She covered her ears to smother the sound. Cassie was safe. Of course, she was. As long as she remained within the Meadows sheltered embrace. Out in the world, that s where the trouble began.
* * *
Curled in the window seat in her office upstairs, Erin studied the snowy grounds, silent under an oyster-coloured sky. It was quiet enough to hear a clock ticking, but there were no clocks here, nothing to show the passage of time. The scarlet flash of a cardinal provided the only bright spot in the wintry landscape. In the stillness, the stone manor felt more like an English country house than a psychiatric hospital.
Her eyelids drooped. What little rest she d managed to get last night was on the hard leather sofa in the corner of her office. Not an auspicious start to what was supposed to be a day of celebration. After three months of intensive treatment, one of her patients, a girl named Sara whom they d almost lost, was well enough to go home.
Knock, knock. Niels stood in the doorway, waving an envelope like a flag. This came yesterday. I meant to drop it by earlier, but with all the ruckus last night and this morning, I plain forgot. In two quick strides, he crossed the space between them. I had a heads-up on this last week. Pre-approved by the board.
Erin rose from the window seat and took the envelope with a twinge of foreboding. It must be one of those pro bono things she d agreed to when they hired her. A worthy initiative, at least in principle, but so far she d managed to avoid any cases. What with settling into the clinic s routines and her own patients to care for - wasn t that why the board had wooed her away from London? - there was little time for anything else.
She glanced at the return address: Greenlake Psychiatric Facility, Atherton, New York.
Greenlake? The name rang a bell, but it wasn t always called that. Atherton State Asylum for the Criminally Insane, that s what it was, back in the day. Before asylums were repackaged as psychiatric hospitals to lessen the taint of notoriety, though the name change was often little more than window dressing. Isn t that a forensic facility?
Sure is. He cocked an eyebrow. Right up your alley.
She dropped the envelope as if stung. I don t handle criminal cases. She busied herself with some papers on her desk to avoid his eyes. Not any more. Certainly not if they involved violently disturbed men.
Do me a favour and say yes to this one. He popped a breath mint in his mouth. The board meets next week. It will be awkward to tell them you haven t signed onto a project yet.
He had a point. A certain amount of community outreach was a condition of her employment, and she d already turned down three requests. But nothing in her contract menti