Read Online The Monolith Murders by Lorne L. Bentley - Free Book Online
Authors: Lorne L. Bentley
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word bad as having a lot of gradations. It’s a binary, one is either bad or they are not.”
He found Maureen’s comments more emotional than scientific; she had uttered almost the words that a layman would have used in this situation. Normally Maureen overlaid a buffered psychological analysis to such a situation; her perceptions had always been processed and distilled through a controlled, objective view of the world. Her insight was gained by studying the works of past psychological greats such as Freud, Jung, Maslow and Pavlov. That process seemed to provide an effective shield for Maureen where she didn’t have to experience the unfiltered rawness of the real world, and where she could apply a cold analytical analysis and escape unscathed into the purity of the academic world. Now she had seemed to lose that wall of protection and was speaking as a lay woman would, full of fear and one who could not see beyond the brutal clarity of the pure hatred that Donna possessed.
Fred had noticed that Maureen had clung close to him all last night. She was now functioning more like a child seeking protection than a mature, educated woman who had become the ultimate problem solver for hosts of people encountering emotional experiences that they could not begin to solve themselves. Fred didn’t like the change in her—he didn’t like it at all.
“Fred, I worked with you on the previous case with Donna, when you and I tried to uncover the reason for the actions of what was an unknown murderer at the time.”
“So?”
“Remember she was a ruthless murderer, but in her mind her murders were justified and necessary. She selectively killed innocent people to cover up the murder of those people at AU who she either disliked or she perceived were in her way of obtaining a promotion.
Certainly it was extreme anti-social behavior, I give you, but still one that had certain limited constraints on it.”
“Okay, I know that, but I guess you’re saying she was not really a cold murderer at the time, only a lukewarm one.”
“Fred, that’s not funny.” She knew humor was an effective defensive mechanism for Fred but she felt this was not the time for him to use it.
Maureen went on, “Please recall that in the past she would not kill women; her hatred was directed to men in general but even then she was able to exclude those men who were decent to her. My point is that she was a mass murderer but she had governing values, limited as they might have been. But last night she was ready to shoot me and all those around our table without a thought, and you told me last night that she shot Dr. Anderson’s wife.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“What possible threat could Mrs. Anderson have been to her? As dangerous as she was four years ago, there was an element of predictability and selectivity about her. But now she seems like a rabid animal killing not for food or in self-defense, but killing because of what she has become.”
Maureen’s eyes were no longer looking at Fred, they were now staring vacantly at the floor and her voice had unconsciously lowered to an almost inaudible soft whisper. “The veneer of thousands, perhaps millions of years of civilization, has been stripped from her,” Maureen continued, “And she is now the raw killing thing that man was when he first slithered out of the quagmire.”
“Maureen, your description of her sounds more like it was coming from a Dean Koontz novel than from a competent practicing clinical psychologist.”
“I know, it’s just that I’ve never seen someone as pure—as pure . . . .” Maureen couldn’t get the word out.
Fred said, “Pure evil?”
Maureen didn’t respond.
Fred hadn’t put together all the clues as to Donna’s changed behavior, but he knew Maureen was correct. And he knew that Donna was going to release all of her fury in a way this town had never experienced once she gets the device implanted.
The phone rang. Fred
He found Maureen’s comments more emotional than scientific; she had uttered almost the words that a layman would have used in this situation. Normally Maureen overlaid a buffered psychological analysis to such a situation; her perceptions had always been processed and distilled through a controlled, objective view of the world. Her insight was gained by studying the works of past psychological greats such as Freud, Jung, Maslow and Pavlov. That process seemed to provide an effective shield for Maureen where she didn’t have to experience the unfiltered rawness of the real world, and where she could apply a cold analytical analysis and escape unscathed into the purity of the academic world. Now she had seemed to lose that wall of protection and was speaking as a lay woman would, full of fear and one who could not see beyond the brutal clarity of the pure hatred that Donna possessed.
Fred had noticed that Maureen had clung close to him all last night. She was now functioning more like a child seeking protection than a mature, educated woman who had become the ultimate problem solver for hosts of people encountering emotional experiences that they could not begin to solve themselves. Fred didn’t like the change in her—he didn’t like it at all.
“Fred, I worked with you on the previous case with Donna, when you and I tried to uncover the reason for the actions of what was an unknown murderer at the time.”
“So?”
“Remember she was a ruthless murderer, but in her mind her murders were justified and necessary. She selectively killed innocent people to cover up the murder of those people at AU who she either disliked or she perceived were in her way of obtaining a promotion.
Certainly it was extreme anti-social behavior, I give you, but still one that had certain limited constraints on it.”
“Okay, I know that, but I guess you’re saying she was not really a cold murderer at the time, only a lukewarm one.”
“Fred, that’s not funny.” She knew humor was an effective defensive mechanism for Fred but she felt this was not the time for him to use it.
Maureen went on, “Please recall that in the past she would not kill women; her hatred was directed to men in general but even then she was able to exclude those men who were decent to her. My point is that she was a mass murderer but she had governing values, limited as they might have been. But last night she was ready to shoot me and all those around our table without a thought, and you told me last night that she shot Dr. Anderson’s wife.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“What possible threat could Mrs. Anderson have been to her? As dangerous as she was four years ago, there was an element of predictability and selectivity about her. But now she seems like a rabid animal killing not for food or in self-defense, but killing because of what she has become.”
Maureen’s eyes were no longer looking at Fred, they were now staring vacantly at the floor and her voice had unconsciously lowered to an almost inaudible soft whisper. “The veneer of thousands, perhaps millions of years of civilization, has been stripped from her,” Maureen continued, “And she is now the raw killing thing that man was when he first slithered out of the quagmire.”
“Maureen, your description of her sounds more like it was coming from a Dean Koontz novel than from a competent practicing clinical psychologist.”
“I know, it’s just that I’ve never seen someone as pure—as pure . . . .” Maureen couldn’t get the word out.
Fred said, “Pure evil?”
Maureen didn’t respond.
Fred hadn’t put together all the clues as to Donna’s changed behavior, but he knew Maureen was correct. And he knew that Donna was going to release all of her fury in a way this town had never experienced once she gets the device implanted.
The phone rang. Fred
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