Medea's Curse (34 page)

She hadn’t bothered to ring ahead and the constable indicated that she could be in
for a long wait to see Damian. But Andie Grimbank spotted her, took her through to
the back of the station and made her a coffee.

‘We’re about to interview Tiphanie and Travis. I’ll check with Damian but he’ll probably
appreciate you watching.’

Damian stuck his head around the door a few minutes later. He looked uncomfortable.

‘Can I watch?’

Damian hesitated. ‘I guess. But Natalie?’

‘Yes?’

‘I think…maybe she did do it. Accident, whatever.’

From behind the one-way screen, Tiphanie looked shell-shocked. She was pale and shaking,
and seemed to struggle to understand the questions.

‘You must have found something,’ she mumbled, in response to a question about her
neighbours. ‘In the car. Rick’s car. Are you sure?’

Natalie wanted to reach out and hug her. Would she feel that if Tiphanie was not
genuine? But there was something else in her manner too. Something that reminded
her of Georgia. She stared through the screen and tried to pinpoint it. She replayed
in her head Tiphanie’s initial disclosure about the car; the tone and expression
had been uncannily like Georgia’s when she had talked about the bunny cards. A superficial
sweetness with an underlying wariness? Natalie felt herself go cold all over. Was
Tiphanie still lying? If so,
what about? Why was she so sure they would find something?

Still. Natalie thought of how long it had taken Amber to finally tell her everything.
Of the twenty years Lee had served rather than face the shame of what she had allowed
Cliff to do to Georgia.

Afterwards, she had another coffee with Damian.

‘Can I ask you something? To help clarify things?’

‘I’ll help if I can.’ Meaning he liked her but he wasn’t going to tell her things
he wasn’t allowed to. Natalie figured he wouldn’t have to.

‘Take me through what happened on the day Chloe was reported missing.’

The call had come via triple zero at 11.23 a.m. Tiphanie had been hysterical, repeating
‘My baby’s gone’ and little else. The operator traced the call and dispatched a police
car, which arrived at 11.44 a.m. The police suggested she call Travis, which she
did; he was at work. He had arrived at 12.32 p.m.

‘How?’

Damian frowned. ‘What do you mean how?’

‘His car had been left broken down at his mate’s place the night before.’

Damian looked at the police record. ‘Must have been driven by his mate. He arrived
accompanied by Rick Marshall. The guy we’ve questioned.’

Natalie nodded. ‘So when did Travis pick his car up?’

Damian shrugged. ‘No idea. Does it matter? He had it back by the time we impounded
it. The mechanics confirmed they’d fixed it at Rick’s the next day. He would have
had plenty of time to get it cleaned.’

‘Are you going to question him again?’

‘He’s here.’

‘Can I watch?’

Damian hesitated but didn’t come up with any reason why not.

‘Can you humour me and ask about the car? Ask what was wrong with it?’

Damian paused. ‘Does this have anything to do with the file you asked for?’

Natalie shifted uncomfortably. ‘Not really.’

‘You know I was one of the cops that turned up to that call. Bella-Kaye Hardy. It
still haunts me. You don’t forget the really nasty car crashes…or the kids.’

Natalie nodded.

‘This has got a hold of you too, hasn’t it?’

‘I can’t believe Travis doesn’t have something to do with it. He’s the common factor.
Amber may have been the one to let the baby drop,’ said Natalie, ‘but he was sure
as hell shaking that bough.’

She took the remainder of her coffee into the same cramped viewing room to watch
Travis being interviewed.

‘That bitch is lying to save her own skin. Must be fucking obvious,’ Travis said
sulkily.

Damian looked at Travis, giving nothing away.

Damian took him through his story again. No, he didn’t take Chloe in the car to Rick’s.
Yes, he had sometimes in the past but there was no need to because she was asleep.
Yes, he was sure. Tiphanie had been very sleepy and gone to bed. He’d gone to Rick
and Alli’s, as he often did. They drank, watched footy. He’d said goodbye and left
them at the door. His car wouldn’t start even though there had been no problems with
it earlier. He’d gone back and banged on Rick’s door. Rick had got the car keys and
come out with him and seen the other guys off. He had tried his car one
more time,
then got into Rick’s car and left.

‘Rick’s car was locked; he went back and got the keys and threw ’em at me.’

‘Rick saw you leave?’

‘Yeah.’ So he would have had to come back to get Chloe’s body if it had been in his
own car.

‘You drove Rick’s car straight home?’

‘Yeah,’ said Travis drumming his fingers on the table top.

‘You got home when?’

‘I dunno. Takes about fifteen minutes, I guess.’ Travis paused.

Damian asked about the car, only for her sake, Natalie was sure.

‘I rang the mechanic first thing when I got to work. Why?’

‘So they fixed it?’

‘Yeah, cost two hundred and twenty fucking bucks. For nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘I didn’t get it until the day after, with Chloe disappearing. They couldn’t find
anything wrong with it.’

Damian frowned. ‘It just started up?’

‘Yeah. Cunts still charged me. For turning the key.’

From behind the screen Natalie briefly caught Damian’s glance as he looked up. He
didn’t like unexplained events any more than she did.

Tiphanie was in the waiting room when Natalie left. An older version of Tiphanie
was sitting with her.

‘You must be Kiara,’ said Natalie, introducing herself.

Tiphanie looked surprised to see her. Natalie explained
that she had to come up to
talk with the police.

‘How are you?’

‘Not great.’ Tiphanie was in jeans and a shirt, perched uncomfortably on the edge
of the chair. She looked very young. ‘I can’t believe—’

‘Tiph would never have hurt Chloe.’ Kiara sounded if she was forcing the upbeat tone.

‘I just want to disappear somewhere,’ said Tiphanie.

Kiara gave her a hug. ‘When it’s all over, Tiph. You’ll see, it’ll be fine and you
can take that job and start again.’

‘Job?’ Natalie asked curiously. Tiphanie looked down at her hands.

‘Of course she can’t until the charges are dropped,’ said Kiara, still forcing a
smile. ‘Mum isn’t keen, but Dad and I think it would do her the world of good to
get out of Welbury. Start again.’

Escape this town. Great idea. There was no hope here for Tiphanie. She’d be sucked
into her mother’s or the town’s psychopathology and never emerge. It was what she
should have done before she had Chloe. Now it might be too late.

‘I want to have a service for Chloe,’ Tiphanie said. ‘I can’t bear to…I mean I want
to say goodbye.’

Kiara gave her another hug and they talked about the possibilities of a service and
Natalie said she’d like to be there if it went ahead. Tiphanie looked ill and said
she needed to lie down. But the police hadn’t finished with her; Andie asked her
to come back into the interview room.

Before Natalie left, she asked Kiara where the job offer had been from. The response
was a surprise.

‘Japan. Teaching English,’ said Kiara. ‘Like a private tutor. Tiph did really well
in Japanese even though she had to do it by correspondence.’

Natalie was deep in thought when Damian interrupted to give her his mobile number.

‘You free for a drink before you leave?’

‘Ah, no, sorry. Got to go.’ Natalie turned, but not before she caught the brief flash
of disappointment. He was too nice for her.

Liam caught her on the phone just before she got back on the bike.

‘Where are you?’

‘Welbury.’

‘Anything I should know about?’

‘Damian was interviewing Travis and I wanted to know about the car breaking down.’

‘Important?’

‘Maybe.’

‘I got your voicemail.’

He hadn’t answered his phone the previous night and her message about the rabbit
had been brief—curt even. ‘When will you be back?’

‘Two and a half hours.’

Liam said he’d meet her at her house, and hung up before she could reply.

‘So the warning about meddling refers to Georgia?’

‘I guess,’ said Natalie, pacing. She couldn’t sit still. She’d been over every part
of her warehouse to be sure the worm hadn’t been there, and found nothing. The absence
of evidence hadn’t convinced her.

‘What about your hospital file? Why would I be interested in it?’ Liam hadn’t—yet—received
anything.

‘He’s just playing with my head. To make me think he
knows things.’ She thought of
the pile of case notes she had burned, that she didn’t ever want Liam to see. Unspoken
between them sat the possibility of the video being sent to Lauren.

Liam let it go. ‘You need to tell me more about him and his wife.’

Georgia had yet to go to trial. Natalie was professionally bound not to discuss details
of a patient’s therapy with anyone, let alone someone likely to be prosecuting them.
But she wanted her stalker caught.

‘Could Georgia and Paul be involved in the paedophile ring together?’ asked Liam.
He sounded frustrated.

Natalie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But she hasn’t said anything that would make me
think that.’

‘If Latimer is my Mr Big, he’s damned good at hiding his tracks. More likely, he’s
just a member of the group. But that’s still potentially very useful to us.’

‘Natalie took a breath. ‘The rabbit might have been a reference to
Fatal Attraction
.
From Lauren. She could easily access hospital records.’

‘Lauren?’ Liam stiffened. ‘She might nail one of us to the fence, but not a rabbit.
And nobody’s going to draw that logo randomly. It’s not Lauren.’

‘Okay, so Paul then I guess,’ said Natalie. ‘Initially he was just playing, maybe
trying to get me so on edge that when he asked me to stop seeing Georgia I would.
When he found out about my connection to you, I guess, that was when he really freaked.
The video was meant to drive a wedge between us. But now…’

‘Sending Lauren the video might be the next step in his strategy given he’s now mentioned
me.’ The corner of Liam’s eye twitched.

‘You said you don’t have enough cause to question him, but I do. Maybe it’s time
for Paul and me to talk.’

They had the quick urgent sex of distraction. Natalie willed herself to be in the
moment.

As she watched him leave down the staircase from her bedroom, she hated that she
had felt safer with him there, hated that she even wished he could be around for
practical things too. There were little jobs she never got around to that it would
be nice to share; the window that wouldn’t open, the door hinge that squeaked and
the mess from the tiles that crashed regularly off her neighbour’s roof.

She stopped herself. She was wanting too much.

Jessie was patently nervous, barely holding it together. At least she had turned
up.

‘Have you had more memories? More nightmares?’

Jessie nodded.

‘Try not to worry too much about what’s real and what isn’t. Your mind has blanked
bits out, substituted things. Just talk about what you see.’

Jessie held her black box, lid closed, and stared out of the window. Natalie watched
the flickering expressions of pain and remembered what it was like to be lost and
alone. She had to trust Jessie to do the hard work. All she could do as a therapist
was guide her; help her to access whatever resilience she had.

Jessie was no longer a child: the healing had to help the adult part of her reconcile
all that had occurred in her childhood, and make up for the unconditional love and
safe haven that she had never had.

‘Did he love me?’

The question jolted Natalie. ‘Love can mean different things to different people.’

‘Did he?’

Natalie wasn’t sure how to answer. Who was ‘he’? Her father? Probably. He had also
loved the feeling of power and perhaps of sexual gratification as well. But he had
never loved or valued Jessie as a person in the way a child needed and deserved.
Truth was going to be the best answer.

‘Your father?’

Jessie gripped the box.

‘Abuse isn’t a way of showing love.’

Jessie bit her lip. ‘None of this, these feelings, make sense. I just don’t know
what to do with them.’

‘Give yourself time.’

Jessie nodded. She opened her box and retrieved another drawing, an anime character.
It looked a little like her arm tattoo except in red; thick and reminiscent of blood.

‘Who is it Jessie?’

‘Aoi Sakuraba; she loved Kaoru.’

‘You’re going to have to explain that.’

Jessie’s shrug said ‘no point’.

So who was Kaoru in her childhood?

‘Why draw her now?’ And why in blood red?

Jessie picked up the picture and with both hands, scrunched and threw it across the
room. ‘Just fantasy.’

‘Do you want to put it back in your box?’

Jessie thought for a moment, collected the ball of paper and did as Natalie suggested.
Natalie found her eyes drawn to the tattoos on one shoulder, above the one she imagined
to be Aoi Sakuraba, in the dense area where another had been partially and inexpertly
removed.

‘What was the tattoo there?’ asked Natalie, pointing.

Jessie looked at her. Wondering. A child looking to a parent for guidance. Natalie
was acutely aware of her responsibility. In an instant Jessie’s expression changed.
‘You watched it didn’t you?’ she said loudly. Without saying anything more, she turned
and left, slamming the door behind her.

Natalie stared after her. She went to the window. Jessie strode out the front door,
banging it behind her, and headed towards the car park. Natalie saw a car door open
and a man step out: Kyle. He put his arm around Jessie and, as he ushered her into
the car, turned around, looking back towards the house and directly at Natalie. She
willed herself not to move, meeting the stare and reading in it all the malice that
was intended.