Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (30 page)

"What's going on?
”
Bridger said, as he and
Brian came into the office.

"The lights have gone out on Marion",
Grant said. "The feed is still running so it
’
s not a malfunction. I think
he may be doing something that he doesn't want
broadcast".

"Well we can only wait until it comes back
on I guess", said Bridger.

"Right, let
’
s take this opportunity to quickly
assess where we are at with our inquiries", Brian said, looking at
Mike.

Bridger took the cue handed to him by
Brian.

"Ok everybody listen up", he said.

Gillian was sitting with Beth in one of the
interview rooms on the first floor. The Senior Sergeant in charge
of the cellblock had refused to have her in the cells, saying it
would tie up his only staff member with the constant monitoring
Beth would require.

God forbid you would actually have to do
some work, thought Gillian.

It did not help her mood much, but at least
it was warm. She had given Steve the job of contacting the mental
health crisis team to come and assess their detainee; she just
hoped that he would convey the urgency of the situation. Having
this girl tie up her time for any longer than was required was not
something she relished.

Beth was sitting on the floor in the corner;
she was hugging her legs, tucked up to her chest, slowly rocking
back and forth. She had not said anything since her arrest.
Gillian's dislike for this girl was growing.

"Look Beth, you have to tell us what's going
on, it's the only way to help you. Why were you at that house
breaking windows", Beth just stared at her with vacant eyes.

What is going on inside that head of yours,
Gillian thought.

There was a knock at the door and Steve put
his head inside the room. "The crisis team is on another job, they
reckon they will be here in about two hours".

Gillian looked at her watch. "That's bloody
great; we will be well past knocking off time by then".

"Sorry Gill, I tried to convince them to
hurry up but they weren't having it. I'll see if I can convince the
next shift to take over when they get here".

"Yeah, good luck with that", Gillian said
sarcastically, looking back at the empty dark eyes of the girl
sitting in the corner.

Steve closed the door leaving the two alone
once more.

"Well Beth, looks like
it
’
s just
you and me for the foreseeable future", Gillian sighed. "We might
as well get to know each other a little".

Beth just sat there quietly rocking.

The lights came back on, making Marion
blink. Squinting she could see that the male in the suit was still
in front of her. He had not even registered the lights coming back
on, his pupils not reacting the way they should. With his large
pupils and wide eyes, he looked almost comical. A small smile
twitched involuntarily at the corner of her mouth. Looking to her
left, she realised what the object was taped into her hand. The
light was glinting off the edge of a large blade, attached to the
rounded hilt she had clasped in her palm.

Marion gagged, wild thoughts fighting for
attention inside her head, many different scenarios, each ending
badly.

"
What do you
think of your gift, mother? Does it make you feel powerful? Brave
enough to help yourself? Brave enough to protect me? Well to be
honest mother I do not actually care how it makes you feel. It is
only a tool; I am giving you this as a final resort. You spent
years not protecting me; I do not have time to wait for you to
reach any decisions about that and try to change things. It is too
late for that, so now I am just speeding up the process.

This will end a lifetime of self-doubt and
darkness.

I remember vividly the day things changed.
It no longer became just about the violence, a wall went up between
you and me. We have not breached that wall, ever since that
day.

Do you remember when it happened, mother? It
was when father beat me so badly that I shit my pants. I was in the
bathroom trying to clean myself up and you came in. You just stared
at me with disgust in your eyes. I was so ashamed, I felt
humiliated.

I hated you for that, I did not want anyone
to see me but you called the police.

I remember two police officers at the door,
in the darkness. They looked so huge to me. I was only a child.
They looked at me with the same eyes as you mother, not caring.

You were standing there in your ripped
nightdress, showing your world to them.

One of them sat in the lounge with me while
you took the other one to your bedroom. The one in the lounge just
sat there staring at me, not saying a word, as the muffled rhythmic
sound of your coupling came from down the hall.

That's right mother, I have grown up now,
experienced it for myself. I know exactly what you were doing that
night and on all the other nights after that when father was
out.

Did you think I was stupid? I used to lie
awake at night listening to it, the disgusting animal sounds that
operate used to make.

Did you like the uniform mother, was that
what got you? The uniform of the protector, the uniform called upon
to sweep up life's detritus.

You showed me that I would never be safe,
that even the protector would not protect me.

You corrupted the uniform; you drew in the
man like a serpent temptress in twisted version of the Garden of
Eden.

You made the uniform eat the apple; only god
did not punish you as he did the serpent. He punished me.

Even father could not see what was before
his eyes. He just carried on blindly.

What did you get from it
mother?
"

Marion listened to the ranting of the shadow
not quite comprehending his tirade.

The arm that was holding the knife started
to move, the blade flashing back and forth, light was glinting off
the sharp edge. It came closer and closer to the waistband of her
dress, her brain unable to control the mechanical movement. She
felt a slight pressure on her stomach as the blade ran across it,
no pain, but followed by a warm wet feeling. She looked at herself
in the mirror and saw the rosy bloom spread across the white of her
dress.

She looked back into the darkness and felt
nothing.

"This is the bit that I'm most ashamed of
Constable", Mrs. Watson said. "This is where it should have ended,
but it didn't. I made a choice and it was the wrong one. It took a
lot for me to call the police that night; you must understand that,
he always told me to keep myself to myself. He told me that it was
our business and no one else's. They would be too busy with their
own matters to listen to me. He would know that better than
most.

The police came that night, when they stood
in the doorway I could have cried. Just the sight of them standing
there was offering us a way out. I should have taken it. The older
one introduced himself as Glenn, I do not remember the other ones
name but he seemed to be the junior officer. Glenn asked me to
speak with him in another room, the only one tidy enough was the
bedroom. I could not have him see the mess we lived in so I took
him in there. I was in such a state that I had not realised that my
nightdress had ripped open.

Glenn obviously noticed. I saw he kept
looking me up and down when he was speaking with me. I realised he
could see more than he should. I tried to cover up a bit, he just
told me not to bother. That it helped him to get a feel for what
happened if he saw the state I was in at the time. At first, I was
embarrassed, but he had a way of looking at me that I had not seen
in my husband
’
s eyes ever.

I was still young, I could not think for
myself. My husband had seen to that. I was very subservient, to my
husband, to anyone of authority. When he leaned over and kissed me,
I just sat there and let him. When he pushed himself inside of me,
it was nice at first, having a man who wanted me, who lusted after
me. It made me feel special. It made me forget my terrible
existence, if only for a moment.

It was over so quickly, he had not even
taken his jacket off. He got up and buckled his trousers; I did not
know what to say. He just stood there and looked at me with a
strange look on his face. It must have been an age but he finally
said that we must not tell anyone about what happened. I just
nodded.

He watched as I put on my underwear and
pulled down my nightdress. Then he walked with me into the lounge
where the other officer was waiting with Daniel. I do not know if
he even spoke to Daniel that night, Daniel never told me what
happened. Glenn said he would call in to see how I was getting on
over the next few days, and then they both just left.

The door shut and there we were, Daniel and
I, still in the same room as before".

"That's awful Mrs. Watson", Jo said, getting
angry. "They should have helped you, not take advantage of the
situation".

"That's only the beginning Constable, Glenn
would visit me after that, each time it would be the same. He
always got his fill, and each time I would let him. I kept thinking
this time he will help; this is the time that he will take us out
of the situation. This went on for months, and my husband was still
beating me. Glenn never made any comments about my cuts and
bruises. I began to believe that there really was no help out
there. If the police weren't bothered then who would be".

The elderly woman sitting in front of her
captivated Jo, she could not take her eyes off her. She could see
so much torment radiating from her eyes, only now finding an outlet
after all these years.

Mrs. Watson continued to talk.

"Glenn always came when my husband was out;
he had a knack of knowing when that would be. I just put my brave
face on and got on with it. I will not lie to you constable, I did
enjoy the sex. You know how it feels to have someone desire you. It
makes you feel special. Well it did not take much for me to feel
special in those days; I had nothing else in my life. I guess Glenn
took advantage of that, but I let him.

One night when Glenn was visiting, my
husband came home unexpectedly. I heard the front door shutting and
he called out as he always did when he had been drinking. I could
tell he was drunk just by his voice, that would usually mean I was
going to be beaten. He did not need a reason anymore; he would just
get drunk and beat me.

Glenn got up and grabbed what he could,
opened the window and climbed out. It was actually quite comical
seeing his bare buttocks disappearing out the window. He had me
conditioned to what was going to happen next so I just sat there
and looked at the door, waiting for what came next. It was like a
routine for me, it almost did not feel right if he did not hit me
at least once a day. He would show me how much he cared by hurting
me, and I would crave his attention.

I saw it just as my husband came into
the room, he saw it to, and then our eyes moved off
Glenn
’
s
shirt and locked together. He knew that it was not his shirt and he
was not stupid so I did not say anything. His face is something I
will never forget. There was incredible rage in his features, but
his eyes looked betrayed. Like a little boy, lost and hurt. I do
not think he could comprehend how I would do that to
him.

He delivered the first punch with more force
than usual. I do not remember much after that, my eyes went blurry
and my head started spinning. I do remember he climbed on top of me
and then pushed himself inside. It was not sex... it was rape. It
was not gentle, not that he ever was, but this time it felt like he
was trying to hurt me on purpose. He did not say anything; I did
not even hear him breathing.

When he was done, he stayed inside of me and
began to hit my face, repeatedly.

The last thing I remember is feeling the
bones in my face break, my cheeks and nose crushed under the weight
of his fist. Before I fell unconscious, I prayed for an end that I
would not wake into my life again. At that point, I felt that I was
completely alone in the world. There was no one that would help me.
I let myself slip into unconsciousness; I did not even fight it. I
welcomed it with open arms. It would be my salvation.

I did not give my son Daniel any thought at
all.

This all happened on the day of our wedding
anniversary, we had both been so lost in our own wretched lives
that we didn't even remember those dates anymore".

Mrs. Watson let out a pitiful sob, then
closed her eyes tightly and started praying.

Jo looked at Mrs. Watson wondering if she
would continue. She was completely enthralled with her story. The
emotion was clear in her voice it created a vivid picture of what
she was saying. She wondered who Glenn was, if he was still in the
job. She hoped he was long gone; no police officer should act like
that, taking advantage of vulnerable people. She would have to
speak with Sergeant Bridger about it when she had the chance.

Jo looked back at the monitor behind her.
She realised with a shock that Marion had a red stain spreading
slowly across the middle of her dress, and she had a large knife in
her hand.

Bloody hell, she thought, before switching
off the monitor. Mrs. Watson did not need to see that.

The briefing was short and to the point.
They were no further ahead with their enquiries. Every avenue they
went down was a cul-de-sac leading them back to the beginning.
Their meager attempts at brainstorming cut short by the resumption
of transmission from the live feed. The office fell silent again;
no one spoke as everyone listened to the voice talking to Marion.
There was a collective intake of breath as the lights switched back
and revealed the large knife taped to Marion's hand. Bridger could
not hear anyone breathe now as they all watched the blade run
across her stomach leaving a small red trail, like a stream on a
map that was flooding, the red stain breaching its banks and
expanding.