by Andrea Drew
***
Chapter 4
The signal came through faintly, a pinging, a knocking at my soul, but detectable nonetheless.
−Bad men, want Lisa.
−What? Li, is that you?
−Bad men, bad men hurt Lisa.
−Is Lisa your friend?
−Yes
−Why will they hurt her?
−They want her insides.
I squashed down the churning within my stomach, the rising panic.
−Her insides? Why?
−Money, bad men get money. Bad man that gives Mama Kelly money wants Li.
−Is he going to get her now? Tonight?
−I don’t think so. But boss man wants money. Money comes from Li. Bad man wants Li. Papers in Mama Kelly’s back room. Don’t let him hurt my friend.
−So what do I do?
−Take Lisa, away from bad man.
−Take her where?
Li’s signature grew fainter, and I knew she’d gone. Young, probably only around four or five, the exchange had probably stretched any energy remaining. Her spirit voice sounded high in pitch, feverish, insistent.
If only these damn spirits were bigger on specifics and less on fear-driven orders, I’d be able to do more. I could only hope that Connor shared this vision. Somehow, I doubted it.
***
Camilla lifted her head to see who on earth had entered the office. The loud, heavy breathing meant they’d either gone for a run, or were struggling to take a breath.
Jack Regan stormed across in three loud strides, resting his forearm just inches away from her on the reception desk. The intense aroma of cigarette smoke reached her, and her stomach curled in disgust.
“If this prick turns up asking questions, remember what we talked about.”
“Pardon?” She didn’t like his tone at all, but then again, he rarely gave her the time of day, her presence usually just-barely acknowledged with either a nod or a polite wave.
“There’s a pig sniffing around.” He bared his teeth and his eyes bulged.
“I’ve already assured Kieran of my loy−”
“Shut up!” he hissed.
“What exactly is your problem?” The adrenaline rose to her throat. She didn’t like his tone, and Jack had not employed her, Kieran had. The promises she’d made to Kieran had nothing to do with this arrogant reptilian excuse for a man.
He swept his arm across the desk, and a business card fluttered down to land on the corner of her desk.
“That is my fucking problem. If we don’t nip this in the bud soon, it’ll be your problem too. Keep your mouth shut, you hear me? We can’t afford stuff-ups.” He glared at her, his fist red.
“I don’t think I like the way you’re talking to me.” She stuck out her chest and pressed her lips together, firmly.
“Whatever,” he muttered and stomped away from the desk to the corridor which led to the two larger offices. She opened her mouth to warn him that the boss didn’t seem in a particularly good mood today but then closed it. Let them battle it out.
She just hoped it didn’t affect the lunch appointment she had with Kieran. He needed something to nudge him into committing further to the relationship. He’d agreed in principle to them sharing a flat, but after today’s meeting, Camilla was confident they could begin to establish a future together.
***
I rushed toward the front door, stopping inches away from Connor to scrutinize him and get some idea of what the hell just happened. He wouldn’t look at me; instead with hands in pockets, he shifted his gaze from the floor to the walls, meeting my eyes for only a millisecond before recommencing the ping-ponging gaze.
“What happened?”
“Not much.” Typical Connor understatement.
“What do you mean, not much? Is someone watching me?”
“Considering Jack saw you walking out of Kelly’s place in Camberwell, I’d say so, it’s too much of a coincidence. Not a good sign. He’s gone now, I might have warned him off, but I’ll stay here for the rest of the day to be on the safe side. I’ll talk to Ryan and see if one of the marked cars can swing by to bring home the message.”
“Who’s Jack?”
“Usual low life beat up his ex, sounds like. I’d like to know more about his background though, something doesn’t add up.”
“Did you get a vision a little while ago?”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“No, what now?”
“This spirit girl again, says they’re going after Li, one of the girls. Her signal’s weak so I didn’t get much more than that. I hoped maybe you did.”
“No, sorry. Seems to be only this Kelly woman.”
“Shit, okay. I’ll probably need to go over there again. Apparently Jack might go over there to take a file, Li’s file. They must be kept there.”
“I won’t be able to make it, but next time you pay a visit.”
“I’d love it if we got there together and ran into Jack. He’d get the shock of a bloody lifetime.”
A wry smile slid sideways across his mouth. “You could say that. Look, Gypsy, I know you, you won’t let go of this one. But be careful, okay?”
I sidled closer to him, pulling on his tie lightly. He moved in for a soft kiss, before pulling away.
“I’m serious, Gypsy.”
“You’re always serious, far too serious if you ask me.” A touch of huskiness crept into my voice, which didn’t surprise me considering the close quarters of my own tanned, blonde-haired detective hunk.
“I can’t help it. I worry about you all the time. Ease up just a bit, would you? For my sake.” The frown on his forehead deepened a little.
I moved away and sighed. “What do you mean by ease up? I thought you knew me? It’s not that I don’t want to let go, I understand people would miss me and worry if anything happened, but it’s not going to happen. Somehow I always make it.”
“Gypsy…” He turned away from me, hands on hips. I watched as he shook his head.
After a moment, he stepped toward me, his face lined.
“I’ve backed you every time, even when I didn’t want to. Too many close calls. Just this one time, think about this. You could stay with your sister, just for a day or two.”
“We’ve been over this before. I like my own space, being here with you. There’s one place for me to be at night, and that’s beside you, in bed.” I reached for him, wrapping my arms around him, the muscles in his back tense and rigid.
His voice dropped to a murmur. “All I’m asking is for you to think about it. If this bastard’s bold enough to sit outside our place, you’re on his radar now, a target. I don’t want to think about where that might end up. I’ll find out more from his ex, I hope.”
His sweet breath wafted the few short inches to reach mine. “I’ll take your advice and consider it. For now, let’s go to bed. I need to consider you in more depth.”
“You’re incorrigible, lady.”
“I know that, that’s part of why you love me…you’re only human.” I took him by the hand and led him toward the bedroom.
“Typical,” he said, but his mouth twisted in a grin.
I’d get my way somehow. Plus I had him watching my back; no way would a dirt bag put me down. It would take more than simply parking outside my apartment to stop me.
***
Chapter 5
The night before, in the security of her lounge room, Camilla had rehearsed her talk with Kieran and brimmed with certainty and confidence. Now the next morning, as she closed down the computer and put the phones on divert, her stomach churned.
Tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear, she looked around the deserted reception area. From her desk she could see the entire waiting area, the large windows, filled with discreet and modern blinds. The desk itself was large and made of a deep mahogany, purely to impress the occasional visitors. Considering the fees New Beginnings charged, she wasn’t surprised Kieran had sp
ared no expense when furnishing the place.
Camilla did the bookkeeping, balanced the budget and paid the bills, which were never a problem; the bank account seemed to be frequently topped up with payments in the tens of thousands. Paying bills did not appear on Kieran Walkleys' radar, ever, only the money coming in.
The top drawer squeaked quietly as she opened it. The aroma of pencil shavings and paper wafted upward. Gazing at the contents, she paused briefly at the business card Jack Regan had thrown onto the desk the day before: ‘Connor Reardon Detective, Homicide.’ Perched on top of the stapler, Camilla wondered whether to take it or leave it in its resting place.
Glancing around the empty waiting room, consisting only of the reception desk, four sleek black and chrome chairs in the waiting room, flanked by large indoor plants, she grabbed the card and shoved it into her jacket pocket.
It would be better to have the option than not.
When Jack had flung the card at her, he had smelled badly of cigarette smoke mingled with sweat. He rarely sweated, usually cool and calm, barely wasting energy on speaking to her, let alone glancing her way.
A detective digging around did not bode well for any of them, but particularly Kieran. He had the most to lose. Not only his reputation, but substantial amounts of cash. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to break her news, but if not now, then when?
She and Kieran were practically married anyway, nearly two years together. She’d met him in court, and at first they both enjoyed a passing flirtation. The friendship and attraction had then increased in frequency and intensity until he’d asked her out to lunch.
They’d both returned a little later than anticipated.
Kieran had always been open about his marriage, and of course he wouldn’t leave her, but they had talked about setting up their nest together, an apartment or flat just for them.
Camilla had never planned to fall for an older guy, but she’d been seduced by Kieran’s charm, his maturity, his confidence. He was nineteen years older than her. At the time it had been just a number, but lately, she’d been concerned. His worries seemed more pronounced than usual; the tone of his voice, his bearing had changed. He was guarded, on edge.
She never imagined the pregnancy would ever happen. She’d had one close call in the last couple of years, and since then she’d been careful. The fact that she’d missed her cycle had been written off to stress. Her work schedule combined with the part time work at the clinic meant she had little time to herself.
She’d finally decided to find out one way or the other, last weekend, and bought a pregnancy test. She’d sat in the bathroom, the white test strip in her left hand, waiting for the single pink strip to appear. Camilla had never considered that it could actually be positive.
There were two pink strips on the stick. She’d pushed herself up from the floor, her stomach fluttered and the room spun.
Thoughts tumbling one after the other. How would Kieran react? Would they move in together? Would he be excited? Angry? Or devastated.
Kieran and his wife Margaret had never had children of their own. He’d never explicitly stated why, but she’d read between the lines. His wife wasn’t able to conceive, which suited him just fine.
Her hands shook. She wasn’t so sure anymore. They’d spent countless hours imagining a life together, so surely this would bring them closer together, the catalyst for a change of direction.
Camilla decided to wait for the right time to deliver the news. That had been almost ten days ago. Today was the day.
She picked up the telephone headset to call the restaurant. If they didn’t leave soon, they’d be late.
The door between reception and the corridor leading to the offices opened. Kieran walked in. For someone in his late fifties, he still looked good. Silver white hair, an immaculately pressed grey suit, and laugh lines in all the right places.
His keys jangled as he pushed them into his trouser pocket.
“Ready to go?” His mouth turned up on one side.
“I am,” she said. “I’ll just turn the air conditioning off.” Camilla took a breath, her legs wobbling as she stepped over to grab the remote.
Dropping it back on the desk, she turned to Kieran, looking for an indication of his mood. “Where are we off to today then? The usual? The Firehouse?”
“Yes, I think so.” Kieran stepped toward the door and held it open. She grabbed her keys and bag, and stepped through onto the street, smiling at him.
She paused as he locked the door. “Right, let’s go.” Kieran checked the door. “I need to leave around two; I’m in court at quarter to three.” He brushed an imaginary line of lint from his lapel.
Camilla hooked a hand through his elbow, glad that he hadn’t noticed the tremble as she collected her things.
She watched her feet in measured steps, calming herself. “Actually I wanted to talk about something. Something important.”
She gazed at him, but his gaze remained on the building ahead.
“I’ve had a number of serious conversations lately. They seem to come in threes.” His lips pressed into a white slash.
“Did it have anything to do with Jack throwing himself into the office yesterday, terrified that police were hunting us down?”
Kieran turned on the busy footpath, oblivious to diners outside enjoying the warm day, to the signs, to the laughter, honking and car fumes.
He stood still, barely moving. Her breath burst in and out, shoulders tight. Her heart hammered, but she couldn’t be sure if his breath continued.
“Tell me what you know.” He cocked his head to one side. Camilla wondered if his eyes were narrowing to shield them from the sun.
“He came in blustering and shouting about a cop sniffing around. Wanted to see you. Told me not to talk to him. What’s going on, Kieran?” She reached forward slightly in an attempt to make contact with his hands, but he flinched at her touch.
Kieran’s nose almost touched hers. The cracks in his face loomed larger. The scent of mint and cologne mingled with sweat, and he gritted his teeth.
“Have you talked to him?”
“Who? The cop? Of course not.” Camilla took a small step back and moved her handbag around from under her arm to cover her chest.
“Your loyalty has always been one of your most redeeming qualities. Keep it that way.” His gaze remained fixed on her face as he turned to recommence the slow walk to the restaurant.
Somehow when she’d imagined the scene in her mind, they were both smiling and contented, rejoicing in the news, holding hands as sunlight cast rays of light across the table.
Why couldn’t reality live up to her imaginings, just for this once?
“So, what’s so important that we’re going out for an elaborate lunch? I need to be back in court shortly.” Kieran remained focused on the café, which appeared ahead.
Camilla chewed at a fingernail, picking on a cuticle. “Let’s talk about it when he get there, when we’re comfortable and can concentrate.”
Kieran had stopped walking. Again.
Not here, please not here, this isn’t the time or the place, on the footpath.
“What on earth is so important? We may be faced with a major upheaval, a complete relocation of the project at short notice. Where’s the fire?”
“No fire.” She looked at the ground and made another vain attempt to grab at his hand, but he jerked it away for the second time.
“Then what is it?”
Camilla figured if she looked confident, maybe she would feel it, and lifted her chin.
“We’re having a baby.” She closed her eyes. There, the words were out.
The silence seemed interminable.
His voice may have appeared to a stranger to be composed, low and quiet. Camilla knew better. “How did you let this happen?”
It took a couple of seconds for his words to register, to pierce her bubble. The wash of giddiness almost toppled her over, but she regained her footing.
How did s
he let this happen? What was he talking about? Where had the loving Kieran gone, the one who whispered sweet nothings as he slowly undressed her; the one who created a future with her, talking about the apartment they’d buy together, near the water, as they lunched on the balcony? Where were the sunny days of togetherness they’d planned?
At that instant, they had slipped through the cracks of the footpath and sunk into the dirt between the pavers.
“But…but we talked about this?”
“Talked about it? I am childless by choice. You didn’t notice?” She wondered why she hadn’t noticed the ugly twist to his mouth earlier.
“We planned our apartment by the water, setting up a base, so we could spend more time together. I thought…” She swallowed and began to fumble through her handbag for a tissue. Her thoughts had frozen, her mind a chasm of emptiness, tumbleweeds running through it.
“You thought wrong.”
Camilla brought her face to her hands. This couldn’t be, wasn’t really happening.
“I’ll talk to Tony. He’ll make the necessary arrangements.”
Arrangements. In less than a minute, amongst passersby and the hustle and bustle of the café district, he had relegated their future to mere arrangements, logistics. She didn’t recognize her voice as it rose in pitch.
“Arrangements? For what? To terminate your own child? I don’t believe−”
“It is barely a child. A collection of cells, a zygote, nothing more. If you take care of this swiftly, we can carry on as we did before, but we need to act quickly. Time is of the essence.” She wondered how she could have been so stupid. How had she never noticed the hardness in his eyes, the calculating, and the careless throwaway comments?
Something inside her clicked, as if waking from a dream.
“Oh, I’ll act quickly, rest assured of that.” Camilla hiked the handle of her handbag back up to her shoulder, the reality of the moment dawning.
He allowed a small smile, extending his hand for her to take it.
Her hand remained on the smooth brown leather of the handle perched on her shoulder.