The Essence of Evil

by The Essence of Evil (retail) (epub)

  Dani reached the driver and, like him, simply stood and studied the carnage in front of her. As she’d walked across she’d expected to feel horror and shock and to be a shaking mess like the man standing next to her. What she actually felt was absolutely nothing. No emotion whatsoever. Dani was numb.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out her ID which she held out in front of the truck driver, her eyes still on the remains of the man she’d been chasing moments before.

  ‘Honestly, I didn’t see him. I couldn’t do anything.’

  ‘I know. I saw.’

  ‘How…? What… oh god.’ He cupped his hand to his mouth and sobbed.

  Dani really didn’t know what else to say. She shook her head to regain her focus. First response. She couldn’t just stand there. She had to help. She turned away and walked with purpose towards the group of people from the other vehicles who were busy trying to rescue the occupants of the two more heavily damaged cars.

  ‘Please stay back!’ Easton ordered the civilians, holding out his ID. ‘For your safety and theirs, stay back. Help is on the way.’

  Easton warily and carefully pulled the largely shell-shocked civilians away. Dani moved up to him. Both the male driver and woman passenger of one of the cars were trapped, the front of the vehicle crumpled beyond recognition and their torsos stuck somewhere among the mess.

  Dani stuck her head through the broken glass of the passenger window.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ she asked, putting her hand on the woman’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was faint, but she was definitely still alive.

  ‘Go check the man,’ Dani said to Easton. ‘But don’t even think about trying to move him.’

  The woman stirred and Dani talked to her quietly and calmly, trying her best to get an understanding of what her likely injuries were, but she really didn’t even know where to start in helping to get her out. A police squad car arrived moments later, then an ambulance, and Dani was thankful to have the paramedics take over from her. Two more squad cars soon arrived, followed shortly after by two more ambulances. Finally, two fire engines hurtled to the scene.

  Minutes later Dani had pulled away from the melee and was standing by a police car, the moment when the man had been creamed by the truck replaying over and over in her mind.

  ‘What the hell happened, Dani?’ Jason said, coming up to her side. When had he arrived? Who had called him?

  Dani didn’t answer. She really didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Come on, why don’t we get you out of here?’

  ‘No,’ Dani said. ‘I’m not leaving. Not until I know those people are ok.’ She nodded over to where the fire brigade were busy sawing away at the roof of the most crumpled car.

  ‘It’s not your fault. You were just doing your job.’

  ‘I’m not even sure that matters,’ Dani said, trying her hardest to hold back her tears.

  * * *

  More than three hours later, darkness fully descended, but the crash site lit up brighter than day with portable spotlights, Dani was still on the scene, along with a large crew of traffic police who had by then largely taken charge of the situation. Jason had stayed too, and Dani had to admit she was grateful for that. The side of the road consumed by the crash was still closed, and would be for a while longer, but the police had managed to move the gridlocked traffic from behind the crash site one vehicle at a time, having them turn around and drive the wrong way to the nearest junction. The opposite side of the road remained jam-packed with evening commuters leaving the city, the traffic backing up way past as far as the eye could see as natural voyeuristic instincts took over and people slowed to survey the grisly scene.

  Dani headed back over to a police car where Easton was busy chatting to a uniformed PC. She’d just taken an update from the traffic officer in charge of the scene. Forensics would be some time yet recording everything they needed before the damaged vehicles could be removed, but the update she’d received had at least told her that there’d been no other fatalities. Yet.

  She’d also spoken to McNair on the phone three times to brief her. McNair had been friendly enough, though Dani was sure there would be a lot more grilling to come. She’d be required to give formal statements. There’d no doubt be an inquiry into what had happened.

  She really didn’t want to think about that right now.

  ‘All good?’ Easton said.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Dani said. ‘Why did he run?’ she asked, as much to herself as to Easton.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Dani. And anyone who asks will get that answer from me.’

  His words of support were comforting, but the potential repercussions were still worrying.

  Anyone who asks will get that answer from me.

  But he hadn’t seen what had happened. He’d already told her – he was running across the playground when he heard the smash. So was he saying he’d lie for her?

  Did she want him to?’

  Jason came over and Easton wandered off.

  ‘Maybe we should go. Not sure we’re of much use here now.’

  Dani wanted to be taking a more active role, but the truth was she didn’t know how, yet she was struggling to pull herself away even though she knew the officers on site had everything under control.

  ‘Come on then,’ she eventually said.

  They walked back to the chainlink fence. The image of the man racing into the road flashed in her mind again and she stopped and squeezed her eyes shut to try and clear it from her mind.

  ‘Dani, are you ok?’ Jason asked.

  ‘I really don’t know.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get back to your car.’

  Jason grabbed Dani’s arm and pulled enough to get her moving again before he let go.

  They traipsed through the dark across the dewy grass back towards the tower blocks. When they reached the row of flats, Dani noticed a uniformed officer stationed outside. Given what had happened, someone would stay there now until the occupants returned or at least until they figured out exactly who was now lying smeared across the dual carriageway.

  Dani recalled the scene from outside the flats hours earlier. The man across the street. Why did he run?

  ‘Give me your keys,’ Jason said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll take you home in my car. Someone else can get yours for you.’

  Dani didn’t protest. She handed Jason her car keys and he headed over to the PC by the flat. After a brief exchange he handed the keys over then made his way back to Dani.

  ‘Come on, my car’s this way.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Day 231

  I’m eternally grateful to the paramedics, the nurses and doctors who saved my life. To the neurologists, psychotherapists and physiotherapists and all the other -ists who further helped my recovery. But there’s no doubt that after those months in hospital, since I’ve been home I’ve felt more alone than ever. I’ve entered a dark place. With the twenty-four hour watch and care of the NHS long gone, I’m struggling, even though I won’t admit it to anyone. Least of all to Jason.

  He’s moved into my apartment now, though we sleep in separate beds, and that’s not just because of my unsociable nocturnal habits that include frequent trips to the toilet, together with agonising bouts of insomnia. It doesn’t feel like we’re a couple; there’s no romance in our relationship. He’s my carer, however much I don’t want him to be.

  Since I’ve come home I’ve had a letter from the DVLA to say that my driving licence has been revoked. I’ll have to go through a full assessment in the future to determine if I’m fit and able to drive again. I don’t have a mobile phone. I’m not trusted with one, particularly following what happened with the Daily Mail article. Jason has taken my laptop and changed all my passwords too. I’m not supposed to operate other heavy machinery – what exactly that means, who knows – not even allowed to boil a kettle or use the hob without supervision. I can’t be trusted. What if I make a mistake? What if I
have a seizure while carrying out these simple tasks?

  It’s a stark reminder of just how different I am now, in other people’s eyes, even if in my own mind I’m still me.

  So Jason being here, in my home, is little to do with affection. He’s basically here to watch and monitor me, and although I do depend on his company now, I hate that he sees me so differently. That he sees me as an inferior rather than his partner.

  I’m sitting on the sofa in my lounge. I’m not dressed even though it’s the middle of the afternoon. I was always such a motivated and get-up-and-go type person in the past. Fitness mad, I worked all hours under the sun. That’s the main reason I’ve never settled down, got married, or had kids. I had no spare time.

  Now I can’t even find the motivation to get out of my pyjamas. I’m told this is normal behaviour for TBI survivors, though certainly isn’t encouraged behaviour. But it’s not just lack of motivation; it’s lack of energy too. I’m tired, all of the time. I can’t focus on tasks. Sometimes I fall asleep in the middle of a conversation or while eating. I can walk for all of five minutes before I need to sit down because my head is swimming.

  Jason comes into the room with a look of concern on his face.

  ‘When did you last take these?’ he says, holding up a box of pills.

  I frown. ‘When I’m supposed to. I can manage taking a few pills each day, you know.’

  ‘Ok,’ he says, in his challenging tone. He’s not all smiles anymore, like he used to be back at the hospital. Now he’s more like an overbearing parent. ‘So tell me, which drugs are these? Anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? Anti-seizure?’

  I have a cocktail of daily meds. Anti-depressants because many TBI survivors naturally become depressed with their new lives, many develop symptoms of bipolar disorder, where one day they’re manically high, then next they’re suicidally down. It’s uncomfortable that those symptoms almost perfectly describe my moods. I also take anti-seizure pills because the risk of a brain seizure for TBI survivors is so high, particularly in the twelve months following the initial injury. If you have more than one seizure, you’re diagnosed with epilepsy. And I take sleeping pills to try and help my brain rest at night, to ease my insomnia and to help me recover. The more exhausted the brain gets, the more likely a seizure is.

  ‘They’re the anti-seizure ones,’ I say.

  He throws the box over. I catch it and look at the label. I read the name of the drug several times, at first convinced that I am right; that these are the pills I’m supposed to take to help prevent me from having a potentially fatal brain seizure. But as I re-read the name over and over, my mistake slowly dawns on me, my confused mind making sense finally. It reminds me of a story I heard of another TBI survivor. He went for a walk with a relative shortly after being released from hospital and damn near got himself obliterated by a double-decker bus at a traffic light crossing. He was convinced the red man meant walk. It’s common for TBI sufferers to be confused by everyday tasks like this, and for them to suffer further horrendous accidents because of their messed-up minds.

  The brain really is a funny old thing.

  ‘Those are your sleeping pills,’ Jason says. ‘Have you been taking those in the morning?’

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ I say, slamming the box onto the coffee table.

  ‘No wonder you’re so bloody tired all the time. Are you sure you’ve been taking the other ones properly?’

  ‘Well I’ve not had a seizure so I’d say it’s all good.’

  He shakes his head in despair and turns to head back out of the room. I know where he’s going. He wants to prove his point.

  I jump up from the sofa and dart out into the hallway to intercept him.

  ‘Stay out of my room!’ I yell as I grab his shoulder and swing him around. ‘Just for once let me take care of myself.’

  I storm past him before he can think of a response and slam my bedroom door shut. I lock myself in the en suite, then open the cabinet and stare at the pill boxes and bottles inside. Looking at the labels now, it doesn’t take me long to figure I’ve been doing it all wrong, just as Jason suspected.

  I feel my bottom lip quiver. It feels like an alien response to me. My psychotherapist tells me I score in the bottom ten percent on the emotion charts they use, in particular my lack of empathy is startling to him. He can’t say exactly how much of that is because of the injury and how much I was like that beforehand, though I know in my own mind that I just don’t feel much in the way of a range of emotions anymore. Certainly I can’t remember the last time I felt truly upset. Bitter and resentful certainly, but not sad.

  And the last thing I want to do right now is cry.

  I slam the cabinet door shut. In the mirror, I see that tears are welling in my eyes. I don’t want that. I’m too strong for that. To fight them off I let out the loudest, most powerful and angriest scream I can muster, and I don’t stop until my throat is hoarse and my brain feels like it might explode with rage.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Neither Dani nor Jason said a word as they drove the short distance back to the centre of Birmingham. When they reached Dani’s apartment block Jason parked up and they both got out. Dani didn’t even think about questioning the fact that he was coming in with her. They headed up the lift to the sixth floor and Dani opened her door and stepped into the darkness. Only then did the emotion she’d been expecting earlier feel like it was brimming somewhere inside, trapped but preparing to burst out.

  She didn’t want it to. She wanted to keep it locked away as long as she could.

  Jason turned on the lights and shut the door.

  ‘Let me fix you a drink before I go,’ he said. ‘Tea, coffee?’

  ‘Something stronger,’ Dani said.

  ‘Wine?

  ‘Stronger.’

  Jason looked unsure. ‘What have you got?’

  ‘There’s some vodka in the cupboard next to the fridge.’

  ‘You sure that’s what you want?’

  ‘No, it’s what I need. Pour yourself one too.’

  ‘Not really my thing. But on this occasion…’

  ‘Give me a minute.’

  Dani headed off to the bathroom and turned on the light above the cabinet. She opened the door and stared at the pill bottles. Dr Scholz’s words from the previous morning about reducing her dosage swam in her head. Christ, had that really only been yesterday morning? It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Dani grabbed one of the bottles and took two pills out, then stared at her reflection for a second. Angered at herself she snapped the cupboard door shut and dropped the pills into the sink. She had no right to take that medication tonight. No right to try to hide away from what had happened. She deserved to have it playing in her mind.

  She found Jason in the kitchen, holding two tumblers. He held one out to Dani.

  ‘I couldn’t find any mixers, so just went with ice.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Dani said, taking the glass and downing it.

  Jason looked a little put out. ‘I know I wasn’t there when it happened, Dani, but you need to hold it together. Getting yourself shit-faced isn’t going to help you.’

  ‘Are you a fucking shrink now?’ Dani snapped.

  Jason paused, though he didn’t look at all put out by her angry response. Dani guessed he was more used than anyone else was to the new, more horrible her. Yet in a way she wished he would pull her up on it. Because she really wasn’t sure she liked the new her at all.

  ‘If I need your advice I’ll ask for it,’ she said.

  ‘Right you are. I thought maybe you wanted some company.’ He put his glass down on the counter and looked over at her. ‘Well, do you or not?’

  ‘You’re not a kid, you can make your own mind up.’

  ‘I guess that’s a no then. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Dani said nothing and didn’t move, as Jason passed her and made for the exit. She heard him open the door, then a long sigh. When she heard the door close shut a few seconds af
ter, she turned around and headed into the hall, a large part of her wanting to see him standing there in the hallway having had a change of heart.

  The hallway was empty and she slumped.

  ‘Why do you push everyone away, you stupid…’

  She headed back to the kitchen and stared at the vodka bottle on the side. For minutes she barely moved, her mind consumed with thoughts not just of the young man who’d lost his life out on that road, but of the two murders she was investigating and how all the events were connected. Also sloshing around was her visit to Ben which now all seemed so trivial. Scholz had told her she was in denial. Damn right she was. Not just about Ben, but about so many aspects of her life. How much longer would she continue to internalise all of the shit that had happened to her before she finally erupted?

  She snapped out of her thoughts and reached for the bottle. Unscrewing the cap, she moved over to the sink. She hesitated for a second before she turned the bottle up and the spirit glugged out. She grabbed Jason’s glass and threw the vodka and ice into the sink.

  ‘No more hiding,’ she told herself.

  From here, she’d face her demons head on.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Grant had a much better night’s sleep than the previous evening, not waking until he was roused by Mary getting up from the bed. He looked over at her and she gave him a friendly smile.

  ‘Good morning.’ She looked and sounded fresh and bright.

  ‘Morning,’ he said. ‘What time is it?’

  He checked the bedside clock. His eyes sprang open.

  ‘Shit!’ He jumped up from the bed. ‘I was supposed to be in for nine!’

  He had a performance appraisal meeting with the faculty head. He’d meant to set the alarm but must have forgotten. Mary just laughed as Grant darted off to the en suite shower. He washed quickly and was out a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. Mary, still only wearing her thin silk nighty that didn’t extend much further than her backside, was standing by the window, looking out.