by Anne Buist
Declan topped up his glass. ‘I feel you still have a mindset against Georgia.’
‘I just want to know the truth.’
‘Natalie, you know better than that. I’m talking about your unconscious motivations. Georgia has had to use a range of tactics to survive. I wonder if you recognise having done some of the same things yourself?’
‘Hardly.’ What was he getting at? It wasn’t as if she’d had any babies to kill. Her motorbike accident? Completely different. Her relationships, perhaps? No, she was in control of those—she kept them strictly at a distance. Not enmeshed like Georgia and Paul seemed to be. Repetition? She squashed the thought almost before it was formed.
She didn’t need her second glass in the end. She was tempted to have it just to worry Declan, though the way he was lining the pens up on the desk suggested he needed it more than she did. Then she might be tempted to discuss her social situation and she didn’t need to hear ‘I told you so’, however nicely Declan framed it. She liked playing with fire and if it meant she got burnt occasionally, what the hell. Worse though, she might let out Tiphanie’s connection to Amber, or reveal that she had seen Amber again and had another prison visit planned. Her recent hypomanic episode, even though she had got onto it quickly, had put Declan on alert. But she had no intention of pulling out of this case.
Amber was crying so hard that Natalie broke confidentiality —albeit in a minor way—and assured her Tiphanie was coping and the police were looking at a new angle. This mollified her a little.
‘I should have told her. I should have made sure she knew.’
‘There’s no “should have done” anything.’
‘But murder,’ she said, arms around herself and rocking.
Natalie recognised the problem. Amber was reliving her own early days in prison.
‘It’s Travis that should be in prison,’ said Amber, still rocking.
‘Why?’ The question was as much about Bella-Kaye as Chloe; she hadn’t entirely dismissed Kay’s claim about Travis.
‘I bet he…drove her to it. You know what he was like.’
‘Tiphanie’s case is different to yours. Try not to read or think about it. You can’t change anything.’
‘My family’s falling apart. Mum had to stop Cam from going and beating Travis up.’
‘Your mother is tough, Amber.’
Amber shook her head. ‘First me, then Dad. The farm is a struggle and she does a lot of care for the kids. I should be there to help.’
‘Kids? Cam had another one?’
Amber put her head in her hands as she nodded. ‘Jed’s two and a half now. Bella-Kaye would have turned two a few weeks ago.’
Poor Amber; the anniversary undoubtedly had added to her distress.
‘I haven’t even met their youngest,’ Amber continued between sobs. ‘At first they didn’t want to upset me, then I couldn’t bear the thought of them bringing Sam into the gaol to see me. The two of them run my mother ragged. Cam’s wife works full time.’
Both she and Amber knew that this was the sort of exhaustion Kay Long had dreamed of. It had been denied her with Bella-Kaye, but it sounded like she was making up for it with Jed and Sam.
‘You’ll be there to help out soon,’ said Natalie. ‘When is your parole hearing?’
‘Next week.’
‘Just focus on the questions you get asked. Your record here is clean, so the board should regard the application favourably.’
Amber hesitated, then gave Natalie a quick hug. Natalie could feel her body trembling.
As Natalie manoeuvred her bike into the garage she became aware that she wasn’t alone. She tensed, ready to hit out with full force. Then she saw it was Liam, standing in the doorway.
Had he been there the other night, or was she just getting unnecessarily jittery? No, I am not getting sick.
‘You’re not coming in,’ she said.
‘You’d best close the door, else Bob may disappear.’
‘I will. With you on the other side of it.’
She sensed his hesitation and uncertainty, and admonished herself only a little for revelling in it. She’d never let him know how vulnerable he made her feel.
‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Hey,’ said Natalie turning, ‘I remember that line. The answer’s the same. I have no need to talk to you.’
‘I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.’
‘Okay, apology accepted.’
‘There’s something more.’
‘Not interested.’
‘I need your help to get justice for Chloe.’
She hesitated. She had to put Tiphanie ahead of her personal feelings. And her behaviour at the ball had been appalling. ‘I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes at the Halfpenny.’ She swung the door shut in his face.
It was a busy night. Benny and Maggie at the bar had no time for more than a cursory greeting and Vince just glared. Liam had obviously arrived.
‘Just for the record,’ said Natalie, accepting the Corona Liam thrust at her, ‘I think you’re a shit. I mean regarding Tiphanie, not your wife, okay?’
‘If the murder charge works, will you still say that?’
‘It’s unethical.’
‘It’s where the evidence lies.’
‘I hope Damian gets in there quickly. She’s coughed up that Travis took Chloe in the car that night.’
Liam brightened. ‘You’ve spoken to McBride? He should be able to come down on Travis’s mates.’
‘This was a regular thing, Travis’s paternal contribution to childcare. Chloe, who would go off to sleep in the car. Damian’s going to talk to Tiphanie’s family as well.’
‘Except this time.’
‘Except this time,’ agreed Natalie.
‘Probably wanted her mum, wouldn’t shut up. Maybe before they get to the mate’s house, he hits her. Maybe doesn’t know how much damage he’s done. Maybe she dies then, maybe later. He gets rid of the body and convinces Tiphanie it was her fault for not being a good enough mother to settle her own child.’
‘If you say so. I thought it was the cops’ job to put the story together.’
‘Sure.’ Liam accepted the reproach without the expected enmity. He even sounded convincing when he added, ‘Thanks. That’s great.’
‘Now I have a question for you,’ said Natalie. Liam flinched. Jesus, he was still worried about Lauren. ‘Look, you stupid dick. I’ll say this once and once only. I wouldn’t tell your wife I’d been fucking you if my life depended on it. With her reputation, she could probably make sure I never saw a patient again. But you know what? That isn’t why I wouldn’t tell her. There’s no way I would let her think I made do with her leftovers.’
She couldn’t tell what Liam was thinking, and was annoyed to find she cared.
‘Which, incidentally, is not how I see it,’ said Natalie, ‘but I know she would. The fact that you and I have screwed each other has nothing to do with her as far as I’m concerned. Maybe it does for you. It probably should, but that’s your
problem, not mine.’
She took a breath. ‘So can we do business now?’
Liam opened his hands out towards her.
‘You told me you were investigating a paedophile ring, right?’
Liam nodded.
‘Tell me more.’ Natalie’s second Corona had arrived and she focused on the bite of the lime for a moment.
Liam drained his pint. ‘I can’t. Professional ethics I think you called it?’
‘Bullshit. You want me to help? I need to know more.’
Liam looked at her. She could see he was weighing up what the best strategy was and whether she had anything to actually tell him.
‘You first.’
Natalie shook her head. ‘Forget it then.’
‘All right, but I can’t tell you much.’
Natalie grinned at him. He thought he was so fucking tough and smart but at the end of the day he was still a private school boy with a trophy car.
‘There is a large-scale operation,’ said Liam, putting on that supercilious air that undoubtedly made Carol in the office wet and probably bored Lauren senseless.
‘It involves a number of players, some big ones. Hence the secrecy.’
Which told her fuck all. ‘The bunny rabbit?’
‘In the videos, or at least some of them. Pink. The little girls are…often clutching them.’
Natalie finished her drink and Liam went to the bar.
‘You must have more than that,’ said Natalie when he returned. ‘Every little girl has got a pink bunny rabbit at Easter.’
‘We thought we had the guy behind it.’ Liam’s tone was measured and he wasn’t looking at her. ‘We couldn’t nail him.’
‘You still think it’s the same person?’
Liam nodded, looking at her hard. ‘Don’t even think of asking. I can’t and won’t tell you his name.’
‘Tell me about him then. Must be more to him than a storage unit full of stuffed toys.’
‘He’s smart, keeps his nose clean. No steady girlfriend but has a regular job, people he works with think he’s average but maybe a bit remote. Goes to Friday drinks, doesn’t get drunk or act inappropriately.’
‘Well that really narrows the field. Not.’ But it told her what she needed to know: it wasn’t Paul.
‘He has a tattoo.’
‘So do I.’
‘This one may be a motif that is used by members of the ring.’
A motif? He didn’t seriously believe he was going to get away with that did he? ‘What sort of motif, Liam? Where? On their penises?’
Liam sighed. ‘A signature on the videos and chat rooms.’
‘The signature and motif? What does it look like?’
Liam looked at her and she could see him deliberating. He was asking himself whether he could trust her, which of course he couldn’t. Or shouldn’t. He wanted to, though. ‘Guess.’
‘A rabbit.’
‘See, I didn’t tell you. A kind of Playboy bunny. Two actually.’ Liam spread out a serviette and drew ears and a head, but with a superimposed circle, presumably the tail. In the second half-overlapping bunny the circle was an oval. Male and female? There was a split second where Natalie was sure she recognised it, but just as quickly as the picture flashed into her mind it disappeared. If she had seen it before, she had no idea where.
Chapter 20
Natalie nearly didn’t answer the call. It was a blocked number and there was a chance it might be Liam. She was still uncertain about how she was feeling about him. Avoiding him was easier. Her mania had given her the chance to end the affair; maybe she should go with that. It wasn’t as if there was any future in it.
But it could be about Tiphanie. Nothing seemed to have happened in the last week, with Tiphanie still sitting in Yarra Bend.
She hit the answer key.
‘I wanted you to know the latest,’ a male voice said. No Irish accent, just reason and calm. Damian.
‘Yes?’
‘We’re stuck.’ Damian sounded apologetic. ‘The evidence is slanted towards Tiphanie acting alone. Travis is denying he took Chloe and his car is clean. For the moment we can’t touch the charges.’ There was a pause. ‘I want to get the bastard as much as you, but we have nothing.’
Georgia was back to her middle-class groomed look.
‘I met Virginia last week,’ said Natalie after Georgia had settled into the armchair.
Georgia moved around in the chair and crossed her legs, smile meeting Natalie’s gaze. ‘No cards this week.’
Was Georgia avoiding talking about her aunt, or were the cards—and Paul—overwhelming everything else? Natalie went with the latter. ‘What do you make of that?’
Georgia shrugged. ‘I suppose his way of saying our relationship is over.’ There was an evenness to the delivery, smile never wavering, that made Natalie wonder if Georgia had practised in front of the mirror. Her hands gave her away; as Natalie waited, she fidgeted with her blazer, and smoothed out her dress. Not dissociation, more like disbelief. Unwilling to accept that Paul was not coming back.
‘He isn’t allowed to see me anyway.’
‘And that worries you?’
‘He isn’t allowed.’ Georgia folded her arms and averted her eyes. ‘I know you think I don’t care about losing my children. But Virginia used to hit me if I cried. She couldn’t tolerate weakness. So I learned to smile instead.’ She appeared to force herself to look at Natalie. ‘It doesn’t mean I don’t feel. Okay, not so much about the pregnancy I lost, I concede that. But my girls? Jonah? They were my flesh and blood. For a while I had three, three pieces of me that just…’ She bit her lip and looked out the window. ‘They just slipped through my fingers.’
In Georgia’s quavering words Natalie visualised the children, hazy images melting and disappearing into the oblivion of her patient’s carefully segregated memories.
‘You spoke last week,’ said Natalie after a moment, ‘about how close Paul was to you and your girls. Did that ever worry you? His closeness to his daughters?’
‘Surely every mother worries?’
No. Their eyes met, and Georgia was first to look away. Natalie wondered if what she was seeing was the denial breaking down; the denial that her husband controlled her and abused her daughters. So many of her patients had, as children, told their mothers of the abuse and not been believed. Had Georgia at least subconsciously been aware of it and killed her children to save them from Paul, rather than confronting him? Or was her motive that she wanted Paul to herself?
‘What sort of father was he?’
‘Wonderful.’
‘Tell me more about that,’ said Natalie when the silence had stretched to nearly a minute.
‘He used to give the girls their baths when he wasn’t away. Olivia loved it when he poured water over them both.’
‘Just the girls? What about Jonah?’
‘I had to bathe him; he was difficult.’
‘So Paul was in the bath with Olivia?’
‘Oh yes, it was easier that way.’
There was distance in Georgia’s voice as she reminisced about her girls, but something approached disdain when talking about Jonah. Because he was a boy? Because he was difficult, and made her feel rejected rather than adored? Or because of Paul’s attitude?
She wondered about Georgia’s mention of Virginia, right after she had appeared to ignore the fact of the visit. Maybe Georgia’s real mother would be able to provide something more. Her colleague had tracked down the address and Natalie had arranged to see her on the Friday afternoon of the conference.
The next blocked call was Lucia Cortini ringing on Amber’s behalf.
‘Amber has her hearing tomorrow,’ said Lucia. ‘What the fuck is going on with Tiphanie?’
‘I’m trying to keep her here until she gets bail,’ said Natalie. ‘Tell Amber I’m pushing.’
Lucia started coughing up what sounded like a lifetime of tar and hung up.
Tiphanie herself was in shock, repeating that she’d never harm Chloe and that she didn’t want to talk to the police.
‘How can she be so stupid?’ Natalie asked Declan that evening. ‘I don’t trust her not to change her story again; how does she expect the police to believe her? She may just be adding a perjury charge to the list.’
‘Maybe it’s as well that the police have taken their time,’ said Declan. ‘Stories, as we know, seldom reveal themselves in their entirety in the first telling.’
‘I’ve spoken to the police. They’re stuck. They don’t think there’s any more to find. The neighbours heard screams earlier in the day but Tiphanie says it was play and either is possible.’
Declan, sipping his wine, waited for her to continue.
‘They searched the car and found nothing. Signs of Chloe, but that was to be expected. Tiphanie was probably bombed out when her partner came home. And the next morning?’ She shrugged. ‘That was when she was intimidated and I guess took a shitload of Valium to block out any thoughts at all.’