Death Delights (19 page)

‘Is she going to be all right?’ I couldn’t help asking, although I’d sworn to myself I wasn’t going to ask that question. I’d heard it a thousand times in the job, coming from distressed parents, lovers, spouses. I knew from experience that there was only one true answer to this question, and it was the younger ambulance officer who said, ‘Can’t say at this stage.’

Before Bob drove me to St Vincent’s Emergency, we had a quick look around the flat. I found a large batik printed bag that proved to be Jacinta’s and searched through it. Some underwear, a few clothes, some papers in an envelope, an address book, make-up in a leopard skin case, a novel and some NA pamphlets with phone numbers scribbled on them sat on the top of a gift-wrapped package that took up the bottom of the bag. It wasn’t clear how long she’d been staying with Renee. Maybe she’d been here all the time, even when I’d spoken to Renee at the brothel. Bob helped me gather my daughter’s belongings together because my hands were shaking so much I kept dropping things. Then he drove me to St Vincent’s.

My daughter was processed in a rush through Emergency and hurried off to be cleaned out. I went to the little hospital shop and bought toothpaste and brush, soap and shampoo for her. I spotted a little doll, dressed in knitted pink clothing that I bought for her as well. I kept thinking of how she’d climbed up to gaze into my eyes when she was little, searching for something, and how I’d always lifted her back down again, distracting her with a toy or a book because I didn’t know what she wanted of me. Now I was starting to understand. She’d wanted
me.
My time. My attention. She just wanted me to sit with her, to be with her, to chat, to listen. But I hadn’t known that then. I hadn’t known a lot of things. I remembered the way Genevieve would charge me with behaving as if I knew everything.

I rejoined Jacinta as they wheeled her into the lift, to take her to an upper ward. As the lift ascended, I looked at her, lying there dead to the world, her lips a little apart, a green-blue vein pulsing slowly on her temple. There were bruises on her shins and the bones stuck out around her thin shoulders. Her ears were decked with dozens of plain silver rings and her left eyebrow sported a silver knob. The sister in charge told me they’d ring me when Jacinta came round and that while she was in Intensive Care, visits would be very restricted, if permitted at all. I handed over the toiletries I’d bought, as well as some underwear and the make-up case I’d found in her overnight bag.

Bob left and I hung around for a while but there wasn’t much point so I left my details and then hailed a cab, directing him to Genevieve’s house. During the ride, I examined the gift-wrapped parcel in my daughter’s bag. I peeled back one of the corners and when I saw what was inside I was stunned. Then afraid. Carefully, I tucked the wrapping paper back and repacked everything on top of it. I zipped it up and held it close to me.

The cab pulled up outside the house that had once been mine. When it drove away I stood outside for a few minutes, not only dreading the next stage, but also very concerned for Jacinta’s safety. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, took a strong hold on the batik bag and knocked on the door. Genevieve opened it and let me have it, both barrels.

‘What do you think you’re doing here?’ she yelled, trying to slam the door closed on me. I pushed myself halfway through and glimpsed someone else in the house. Over her shoulder I saw the large figure of John Cleever Kapit standing in the lounge room.

‘It’s about Jacinta,’ I said. ‘She’s in hospital.’

All the fight went out of her. I walked in past her. The infestation of little figures in pantaloons had worsened, and worst of all, the large figure of John Cleever Kapit stood in front of the mirrored mantelpiece, practically smiling at me as if we were at some social gathering. It was weird standing there, my estranged wife in between two men doubled by the mirror, both of similar height and build. I couldn’t help noticing he was wearing a blazer just like the one Genevieve had bought for me years ago. She wasn’t very original when it came to gifts.

‘Always nice to see you, Jack,’ he said, and I wasn’t sure if he was being hypocritical or ironic. But at least he made no attempt to put out his hand. I ignored him and anyway, my hand was occupied with Jacinta’s bag.

‘Genevieve, I need to talk to you in private,’ I said. ‘This concerns our daughter. The situation is critical.’

I saw Kapit look over to her for a cue and was relieved when she gave it.

‘I’m sorry, John,’ she said to him. ‘I’ll ring you as soon as practicable.’ She gave him a glance that seemed to say ‘as soon as I’ve got this loser of a husband of mine out of here’ as she accompanied him to the door, drifting too close beside him in her purple silky outfit and gold high heels, and I wondered, still smarting from her look of contempt, what she now did with the memories of all our years together, the good times, the love-making of our earlier days, the occasional fun, the births of our children, the shared history. She turned back to me after she’d closed the door after her boyfriend and her face had darkened. But before she could say a word, I got in first.

‘Jacinta’s just been admitted to St Vincent’s.’

I watched her face change yet again. She raced to grab a coat. ‘I’ve got to go there,’ she said. ‘Where is she? What ward? What happened?’ In her face, so drained of colour, her mouth with its dark lipstick looked like a wound.

‘She’s in Intensive Care. Accidental overdose. They may not let you in to see her. I suggest you ring first.’ Genevieve suddenly stopped her manic rushing, one hand still raised like a statue.

‘Overdose?’

I nodded. ‘Visits are restricted in the ICU so ring first,’ I said again. ‘She may have taken Rohypnol as well. She’d also been drinking.’ I quoted the ambulance officer. ‘She’s lucky to be alive,’ I repeated.

As I said all this, I was aware of my desire to punish my wife, to make her feel what her behaviour eighteen months ago had caused my daughter. My vengefulness backfired.

‘This is you,’ Genevieve screamed. ‘This is your disgusting alcoholism! You brought addiction into this family. You brought that to my child.’

I grabbed her arm, pulling her close to me, aware I was very close to losing it.

‘Genevieve,’ I said, hating her in that moment. ‘I
did
something about the way I was!’ I pushed her away from me, angry with myself for this display. ‘It’s just a real pity you never have.’

She stood in front of me, eyes blazing, rubbing her wrist where I’d grabbed it. I waited for the explosion.

But she took me by surprise instead with her sudden tears.

‘Oh Jack,’ she sobbed, ‘what am I going to do? I’m her mother and I don’t know what to do.’ Her heartbroken cry touched me, despite the distance I’d put between us. This was the first time I’d ever witnessed such unguarded humility in Genevieve.

‘She’s in the best place possible,’ I said and my voice was gentler. ‘They’ll do everything they can for her. Ring the hospital—they’ll keep you informed. And I’ll keep in touch.’

There was a moment when I might have stepped closer and said I was sorry about everything, the awful muddle we’d made of it, but I couldn’t. The moment passed and I let myself out of the house and ended up walking for a long time, carrying Jacinta’s bag, thinking about my daughter, my marriage, my mother and my wife. None of the thoughts were happy. Finally, I hailed a cab back to Renee’s apartment.

•

I slipped in behind a resident who gave me a very suspicious look until I held up my ID card. When I got to Renee’s door, it was off its hinges and a locksmith was drilling around the old lock. Renee herself, unpainted and wearing only a man’s shirt and thongs, had a few things to say to me.

‘It was an emergency,’ I protested. ‘My daughter was in a bad way. There wasn’t time for niceties. I’m sure your insurer will pay up.’

‘I heard from next door what happened,’ said Renee. ‘I see you’ve already got her stuff. Is she going to be all right?’

I shrugged. ‘She still hasn’t come out of it.’ I looked around the flat with its sad little stuffed animals. ‘How long had she been staying with you?’ I asked.

Renee lit a cigarette. ‘It feels weird,’ she said, ‘with my door lying flat on the floor and everyone looking in.’

‘No one’s looking in,’ I said.

‘Feels like it,’ she snapped.

I repeated my question.

Renee gave me a long look. ‘I don’t have to answer your questions now or any time. The only reason you’re in my flat at this very minute is because I haven’t got a fucking door. Thanks to you.’ She threw the lighter onto the counter, inhaled deeply and walked to the window where she looked over Rushcutters Bay and across the Harbour, exhaling smoke like a skinny little dragon.

‘Renee,’ I tried again, ‘Jacinta is fighting for her life up the road. Can’t you help me just a bit? You claim to be her friend.’

She frowned, threw me an odd, sideways look, tapped her cigarette and went to a sideboard where decanters of spirits gleamed in a row. A familiar squat figure in Chinese pottery carrying a long weapon next to the decanters made me look more closely. It was Kuan Ti.

‘That’s my patron saint,’ said Renee, noticing my interest, pouring herself a Scotch. ‘He’s the Chinese god of hookers.’

‘He’s also the god of detectives,’ I said as she flung herself on the white leather lounge, kicking off the thongs. Renee looked at me in disbelief and I saw enough to realise that she was naked under the oversize striped shirt.

‘He assists police in difficult investigations,’ I said.

‘Not in this house he doesn’t,’ she said shortly.

‘Please, Renee. This isn’t an investigation. This is about my daughter.’

Renee stared at me as if she couldn’t care less. But I knew it was an act. She glanced over again at the god of hookers and detectives and her voice was less spiky when she spoke.

‘Jass lobbed here a couple of days ago,’ she said, returning her attention to me. ‘Said she was in trouble. Needed a place to stay. Just for a little while till she’d worked out what she was going to do.’

‘Where did she live? Before the “trouble”?’

‘Some dealer boyfriend. I never met him. She had this fancy idea she was going to kick the junk.’ Renee shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Imagine having a dealer boyfriend, and then going and getting clean! Gear laid on and not using it. Makes no sense at all. That sort of put a strain on the marriage.’ Renee rolled her eyes. ‘True lerv flew out the window, would you believe.’ I waited for her to continue. ‘See, Jass started going to NA a few months ago and it gave her ideas.’ Renee raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘It’s an organisation full of losers.’

‘She was going to Narcotics Anonymous?’ I said, remembering the pamphlets she’d had in her bag. Renee stubbed her half-smoked cigarette out, nodding. ‘She’s been trying to get clean. She wanted to get away from Sydney. Go to a new place, start again. Go back to school. Reckons she’d been off the gear for a few months now. But, hell, we all say that.’

‘Where did they live?’ I asked Renee.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘you’re taking up my time.’

I pulled out my wallet, and showed her I only had ten dollars. Renee moved closer and, remembering the occasion at the brothel when she’d grabbed me, I put Jacinta’s bag down and took a step backwards. She smiled at that, took off her shirt and stood naked in front of me. She had a neat, thin body, with almost no breasts and a tattooed leopard that curled from her groin around her pubic area, and up onto her stomach, showing its claws and teeth under her breasts.

‘You can look for ten dollars,’ she said.

I picked up her shirt from the floor and threw it at her. Sex was the last thing on my mind just now.

‘Keep your shirt on, darling,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen it all before.’

‘Suit yourself.’ She shrugged.

I repeated my question and she shrugged again.

‘I don’t know where they were living. Somewhere in the city. But she’d moved out a few weeks ago and was just staying with people. Moving on every couple of days. The guy she was with, the dealer, wasn’t happy about her leaving. You could ask around the streets. I mean, Jass and I see each other around, but we’re not in each other’s faces.’ She put the shirt on again and tucked my money into the pocket.

‘Renee,’ I said, thinking of the contents of the gift-wrapped package in Jacinta’s bag as I took hold of it again, ‘there’s something you should know. You could be in the shit.’

Renee’s light blue eyes narrowed. I saw several things move through her face in quick succession but the expression that stayed was annoyance. ‘What’s new?’ she said.

My mobile rang and it was Florence calling from Canberra. ‘A 1968 Holden’s just arrived,’ she said, in a cold voice. ‘I believe you want to check it out personally. I heard it was involved in the disappearance of your sister many years ago.’

‘I certainly do want to look at it, Florence,’ I said, ‘but I’m not claiming absolute rights to it. There should also be Crime Scene evidence from Parramatta bagged with it. Will you check and make sure that’s arrived, too?’

‘I can’t personally,’ she said, ‘I’m just about to drive up to Sydney. But I’ll ask someone to do it. I don’t shirk my responsibilities.’

‘Thank you, Florence,’ I said. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ She rang off without further conversation and I stood there a moment, staring past Renee out to the Harbour lights. Rosie had intruded again as she always did. But I put her little ghost aside for the moment.

‘You have to help me, Renee,’ I said. ‘Find me the boyfriend. Just leave me a message.’ And I scribbled my phone number again for her to keep.

‘Why should I help you?’ she demanded. ‘What have you ever done for me?’

I stood there thinking about that. ‘There are about ten things I can think of that I could get you booked for right now,’ I said.

‘Like what?’

‘Like anything I fucking well feel like,’ I said, the sudden anger taking me by surprise. ‘Just don’t push me.’

Renee knew that I could do what I threatened. She shot me a look of pure hatred and I felt ashamed that I’d stooped to bullying this skinny little kid. But I was desperate for my daughter’s sake.