The Caller

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The Caller Page 19

by Alex Barclay


  ‘I made a real effort tonight,’ she said. ‘For us to have a nice meal.’ Tears were back in her eyes. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’

  ‘I do,’ he said.

  She looked up at him. ‘What?’

  ‘I know.’

  She read his face. ‘Oh.’ Her mouth hovered on a smile.

  He rubbed his face hard. ‘I hoped you were going to tell me I got it wrong.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s true. I’m pregnant.’

  ‘How did this happen?’ he said.

  ‘It’s what happens when you don’t take precautions.’

  ‘But you’re on the—’

  ‘Not since the … not since Ireland.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me that?’

  ‘How did you not know?’ Her voice was rising.

  ‘What, did you think I knew and I was actually taking some kind of risk? That I really thought “hey, whatever happens happens and wouldn’t it be wonderful to bring a child into the world”?’ He surprised himself with the intensity of his anger. But not as much as he surprised Anna.

  ‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘You really wanted this, didn’t you?’

  Panic flickered in her eyes.

  He put his head in his hands. ‘That night in those little shorts and … you were …’

  ‘I wanted to be with you.’

  ‘You wanted to get pregnant.’

  ‘You think I’m that calculating.’

  ‘Funny how we have sex once last month – great stats by the way – and you manage to get pregnant.’

  Tears welled in her eyes. ‘Why are you being so horrible?’

  ‘Oh, Anna. Anna, what were you thinking?’

  ‘Looking at you now,’ she said, ‘I really don’t know.’ She tried to leave.

  ‘Wait,’ said Joe. ‘Please wait. I’m sorry. I’m off balance. This is just, this is huge. It’s a shock to me. I … I’ve been thinking about it all day. I don’t know.’

  He reached out and held her shoulders. ‘I’m worried about you,’ he said quietly, ‘why you wanted this to happen. I don’t know where to start with why we shouldn’t be doing this. Your health, your age, where your head is at …’ He lifted her chin with his finger. ‘Sweetheart?’

  She cried, her eyes closed, unable to meet his. ‘I’m so scared. What have I done? Being a mother is such a … it’s terrifying. The world is terrible. I hate it. I never used to be like this. I mean, even if nothing had happened to us, I’d still feel this way: there is no peace out there. Do you know what I mean? You can’t escape to anywhere any more. Everywhere seems to be getting touched by … evil.’

  ‘No, it’s not, honey,’ said Joe. ‘Trust me. It’s just hard for you right now to see all the good that’s out there. And your horm—’

  ‘Don’t say it.’ She half-laughed through her tears.

  Joe smiled. ‘Come here, honey. Everything is going to be OK.’

  He pulled her head to his chest, then brought it down to rest on the cushion, away from the heart he knew was beating too hard and fast to be any comfort to her.

  NINETEEN

  Magda was sitting at the edge of Mary’s bed when her eyes opened.

  ‘Hello, sleepyhead,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Tears streamed down Mary’s face.

  ‘Can you remember anything?’ said Magda.

  ‘David’s dead, isn’t he?’

  ‘He is, honey.’ Magda sat on the bed beside her and stroked her forehead. ‘I’m so sorry. Can you remember anything about your seizure?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘That’s OK. Don’t worry. You might remember again, you might not.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were here alone. And you had a seizure … I came to the door and you were lying on the floor. I called the doctor.’

  Mary smiled. ‘What was I doing?’

  ‘You were just distressed, swallowing a lot … nothing too crazy.’

  ‘Weird. Was I saying anything?’

  ‘Not a word.’ She paused. ‘But this was on your desk when I got here.’ She handed Mary a piece of plain white paper. Mary frowned. She saw her own handwriting – lecture-hall writing, the rush to absorb and preserve at the same time. In clotted black ink, the words were scattered down the page: Shadow. Absence. Loss. Can’t move. Loss. Alone. Can’t move. Red. Cold.

  She stared up at Magda to ease her rising panic. ‘Did you read this?’

  Magda nodded.

  ‘Freaky,’ said Mary, ‘what’s it supposed to mean?’ She read it again.

  ‘It’s just a bad dream, sweetheart. You probably wrote it just before you went under.’

  ‘Shadow. Can’t move. Alone. That’s weird. It feels wrong.’ She started gulping for air.

  ‘It was just a bad dream,’ said Magda. ‘That’s all that was.’

  ‘I need to know what it all means,’ said Mary. Her voice was rising.

  ‘Nothing. Just a few scary thoughts before your seizure you must have written down. Cooties of the mind. Don’t let it get to you.’

  She turned as another sheet of paper caught her eye. Mary got to it first. It had three words across the centre: All. My. Fault. And in the bottom, David’s name exactly as she always used to write it, with the small d curving over to meet the capital one.

  She started shaking. Magda reached out her hand for the paper.

  ‘No,’ said Mary, clinging on to it. ‘No.’

  Julia Embry looked around the room at the nineteen residents of the Colt-Embry Homes.

  ‘Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for coming. I wish I wasn’t, but I’m afraid I’m here with some bad news. Mary Burig has lost her brother, David. He died on Monday. Some of you may have seen the newspapers. He was … murdered.’

  Most of them seemed to have already known. ‘The reason I’m telling you this is, well, some of you know David and also, it’s very important that we’re all here for Mary. She’s very upset. She’s not feeling very well. She’s in her room this morning. We need to give her the space to grieve.’

  She looked around at everyone. They nodded. Some were crying.

  ‘I know what it’s like to lose someone,’ said Julia. ‘Ten years ago, my son, Robin died.’ She looked down. ‘I loved Robin very much. He was only seventeen years old. I thought I could not go on after that. But I did and I’m still here. And you’re all still here too. Some of you lost people in the same accident that brought you here. Some of you, sadly, have lost your fiancés, husbands and wives or family members to … well, to lack of understanding. I know that’s very hard for you to have to deal with. One minute your life is one way, the next it has completely changed. Maybe some man or woman who had one extra beer and got behind the wheel of their car is the reason why you’re here. We can’t control everything. But every one of us is here because we care. I know you’ve all got a lot going on, but we need to look out for Mary. Because she’s in pain right now.

  ‘It’s important to remember, though, that we do not have to be defined by the things that happen to us. And certainly not the negative things. You don’t want people looking at you as just people who have suffered a brain injury. I don’t want people looking at me as poor Robin’s mom. There is a lot more to all of us. Losing Robin was devastating, but it made me want to set up this Clinic. So some good came of it.

  ‘Anyway, I just wanted to say please be there for Mary, you can help her through this and do nice things to make her feel better as soon as she lets you know she’s up to it.’

  Joe and Danny were waiting outside the door when Julia came out.

  ‘Hi,’ said Joe. ‘Is it OK if we have a word with Mary?’

  She paused. ‘What’s it about? She had a seizure this morning, she’s resting.’

  ‘It won’t take long,’ said Joe. ‘It’s just about David and some of his financial records.’

  ‘OK,’ said Julia. ‘What about them exactly?’

>   ‘Why don’t we go talk to her?’ said Joe.

  ‘OK. No problem,’ said Julia. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

  Joe’s cell phone rang. ‘Pardon me,’ he said, falling back as they walked the hallway.

  ‘Detective Lucchesi? It’s Scott Dolan again, Philly PD. You’re not going to believe this – one of Curtis Walston’s buddies in Trahorne Refining has put aside a nice bloodstained black top for us from another Valtry Lab package.’

  ‘Another one?’ said Joe.

  ‘Yeah, it came in shortly after the first.’

  ‘You’re shitting me.’

  ‘I got it right here in an evidence bag. This guy rescued it from the furnace. He hates the boss too, thinks it was total bullshit that Walston was fired.’

  ‘Great news,’ said Joe.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sending it your way right now.’

  Mary lay curled on her bed staring at the photo of David on her bedside table. She couldn’t believe he was dead. She had no-one left. No family. Then she saw the photo of herself and Julia and Magda beside it and she knew she had some people who cared about her. This was her home now. Within a week of arriving at Colt-Embry, she had felt that way. She didn’t want anyone to know anything that would make it have to be any other way. She heard a knock on her door and went to open it.

  ‘Hello, Mary,’ said Joe. ‘Detectives Lucchesi and Markey again.’

  She nodded. ‘Come in.’

  ‘How are you holding up?’ said Joe.

  She shrugged.

  ‘Well we won’t stay long,’ he said, ‘we just have something we’d like to clear up. We were going through your brother’s financial records. We know that he pays for your care here, but before your attack, he was writing cheques for some large sums of money directly to you. Can you recall why?’

  Mary frowned. ‘Well, he was my big brother, he always helped me out …’

  ‘These cheques were for 5000 dollars a month.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Mary. ‘That’s a lot of money.’

  ‘It is,’ said Joe. ‘Maybe you could think about that and see if anything comes to mind or if you recall how you might have spent that money.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Mary. ‘But, I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, I’d remember that.’

  Magda Oleszak walked into the library. Stan Frayte stood in the corner staring at a large framed photo hanging on the wall. It was a blond teenage boy smiling patiently at the camera. A wooden sign that said ‘gallery’ was mounted high above it.

  Six months earlier, Magda had cleared a space where residents could hang framed photos of their friends and family. It was more than just about decoration, it was part of their treatment – to bring familiar faces and memories out from their dark hiding places. Everyone was encouraged to bring in photos. Mary had brought one of David.

  Magda nodded to the photo in front of Stan.

  ‘That was the first photo we hung,’ she said. ‘It’s Robin Embry, Julia’s son.’

  ‘Really?’ said Stan.

  ‘Yes,’ said Magda. ‘Poor boy. Killed in a car wreck.’

  ‘How is Mary?’ said Stan.

  ‘She’s OK,’ said Magda. ‘It’s all very hard for her. Not just the loss, but David is linked to so many of her memories of when she was well and now he’s gone, I think she feels there’s no-one left in the world who knew her when she was stronger, no-one who knew the real Mary.’

  TWENTY

  The receptionist paged Dean Valtry and offered Danny and Joe seats they declined. Valtry came out almost immediately, his smile on, his arm extended.

  ‘Good morning, detectives. There’s a conference room on the second floor,’ he said. ‘You can use that. It’s all set up. There’s water, a coffee machine. I got in some doughnuts … I mean, also some pastries, Danishes …’

  ‘Yeah, thanks,’ said Danny. ‘We appreciate it.’

  ‘How do you want to do this?’ said Valtry.

  ‘Just send them up one by one, go by the list. No need to tell them anything else.’

  Valtry nodded and walked to his office.

  ‘I hate the doughnut thing,’ said Danny as they stepped into the elevator.

  ‘What are you talking about? You love doughnuts,’ said Joe, pressing the button for the second floor.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Danny. ‘Once people get the cop/doughnut thing confirmed, they go straight to thinking all their other ideas were right. Before you know it, we’re all fat, dumb, lazy and racist.’

  ‘And sleeping around on our wives.’

  ‘There’s got to be some perks to laying my life on the line every day.’

  ‘Yeah, I really feel my life is in imminent danger right now,’ said Joe.

  ‘Hey, anyone could walk into this conference room today and—’

  ‘See how quickly a box of grease and sugar can disappear.’

  ‘Well it sure as hell ain’t hanging around my gut,’ said Danny, patting his flat stomach.

  Joe looked at him. ‘Yeah, you’re so hot right now …’

  They stepped off the elevator and noticed someone was already waiting outside the conference room door – a small, bookish Asian girl in rimless glasses, with long shiny hair in a ponytail and a snug white lab coat. She wore pale panty hose and brown don’t-fuck-me shoes.

  ‘That’s our guy,’ said Danny under his breath.

  Joe laughed. The woman jumped.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe. ‘Did I frighten you? Come on in.’ He opened the door.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sorry. I was a million miles away. And I hate any, uh, official stuff.’

  ‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about,’ said Danny.

  She sat down quietly with her hands in her lap until Joe and Danny had poured coffee.

  ‘Let me take your name,’ said Danny.

  ‘Ushi Gahr.’

  ‘OK, Miss Gahr—’

  ‘Ushi.’

  ‘Ushi, something has come to our attention and we were wondering if you could help us out.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said.

  ‘Have you noticed anything suspicious at work in the past few weeks?’

  ‘Suspicious?’ She thought about it. ‘No.’ She shook her head firmly once.

  ‘Anything out of the ordinary?’ said Joe.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like anything you don’t see every day, something that might have surprised you?’

  ‘I can’t think of anything,’ she said.

  ‘Anything that made you feel uncomfortable?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is there anyone you work with who may have been acting strangely in any way?’

  She smiled. ‘I wish,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid they’re a dull bunch. Quiet, hard-working, not a lot of partying. We’re nerds. I mean, I’m the wildest, I would say. Just to put it into context for you.’

  Joe smiled. ‘OK. Does everyone get along well?’

  She nodded. ‘I guess so. As long as you don’t eat food from the fridge labelled with anyone else’s name, there’s no conflict.’

  ‘What kind of boss is Mr Valtry?’

  ‘Fair,’ she said. ‘Enthusiastic about the craft. Everyone he employs here graduated top of their class. Mr Valtry is not someone I would ever have a long conversation with or even a conversation that was in any way other than one sided, but he is not unpleasant.’ She paused. ‘I hope that doesn’t sound too negative.’

  ‘To me,’ said Danny, ‘it sounds like how most people describe their bosses.’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘So,’ said Joe. ‘Mr Valtry – he’s very skilled at his job?’

  ‘The work he presents to us is beautifully crafted,’ she said.

  ‘Is he strict with his standards?’ said Joe.

  ‘Yes, but that’s before he hires anyone. He’s not going to hire anyone in the first place who is not 100 per cent accurate. And once he has that, he doesn’t need to hold anyone’s hand.’

  ‘OK,’ said Joe.
‘I think that’s everything. Thank you very much for your time.’

  Ushi walked to the door, but stopped as she was closing it behind her.

  ‘Ask him,’ she said. ‘Get Mr Valtry to show you how the machines work. It’s very interesting.’ She gave a small smile and left.

  Over three hours, fourteen more employees came through the door, none of whom had seen or heard anything unusual.

  ‘Now,’ said Danny, flicking through his notebook. ‘Why the fuck would I want to see Dean Valtry make me some teeth?’

  ‘Well, Ushi seemed like a very bright young lady,’ said Joe. ‘She either loves her job a lot or she’s making some sort of point.’

  ‘And if it was just about her job, she would have invited us over to her lab bench wouldn’t she?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Joe dialled reception. ‘Hi, it’s Detective Lucchesi in the … OK … thank you, yes … nearly – could you put me through to Mr Valtry, please? Thank you. Oh yeah, they were good.’ He pointed at the doughnuts. Danny took that as an invitation.

  ‘Hello, Mr Valtry,’ said Joe. ‘We’re all done up here. There’s just one more thing – could you give us a quick tour around the laboratory before we go, just so we can get a sense of what exactly it is you do? It might throw something up we hadn’t thought about.’ He nodded. ‘That’s great. We’ll be right down.’

  The laboratory was small with three rows of work benches and three technicians at each one. At the back was a shared bench with most of the larger equipment.

  ‘OK,’ said Valtry. ‘Listen up, everybody. You’ve met our two detectives already – Detectives Lucchesi and Markey. I’m going to give them a quick run-through of what we do here at the lab, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be stopping at different benches along the way, depending on what stage of the process you’re at. Anyone doing a wax-up?’

  A girl at the back of the lab raised her hand. ‘OK,’ said Valtry, walking down to her. Joe and Danny followed.

  Valtry turned to them. ‘Here’s how it works. When you’re in the dentist’s chair and he takes an impression of your teeth, he sends that to us. We pour plaster into it and let it set so we have an exact model of your mouth, like when you see those joke chattering teeth.’ He held up a grey plaster model of a bottom set of teeth. ‘There’s a tooth missing here and I need to make a new one, so I start by constructing it in wax. We use a wax pot that keeps the wax liquid and then we dip in a spatula and build up the wax from there.

 

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