(2011) The Gift of Death (5 page)

‘
Yes, mom, I’m fine,’ said Kate.

‘
I know, but I keep thinking of what you must have gone through. The shock. How awful it must have been for you.’

‘
Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. But honestly mom, I’m fine.’

She saw her mother – still fine-boned and something of a beauty in her seventies – give her that concerned look, like she was trying to peer beneath her skin.

‘
Mom, I said I’m fine. You don’t need to use your freaky X-ray vision.’

‘
Darling, I don’t know what you mean. The things you say,’ she said, laughing. ‘Quite extraordinary. But good that you can joke after seeing such a horror. I thought you’d seen the last of those kind of things when you packed in that grisly job of yours.’

‘
Mom –‘

‘
I know you’ve told me to hold my tongue. And I will, darling. But I’m so pleased that you don’t have to do that kind of thing anymore. Taking photographs is much, much better. But God knows why you chose to go into that line of work in the first place. So macabre. Sends shivers down my spine just thinking of it. Probably your way of rebelling against your father and me. Yes, I know, I know, I’ll keep my peace.’

Hope looked at her daughter, sensing there was something on her mind. Kate seemed tired, drawn somehow. Understandable considering what she had been through – that awful break-up with Josh – and now with what she had seen. And yet – yet she was sure there was something she was not telling her. She sat down at the circular wooden dining table, drawing a chair into the shade of the umbrella and moving slightly closer to her daughter.

Kate remained in control, her face impassive. She was fine, of course she was. But then she felt her mother’s kindly, brilliantly blue eyes searching her face for signs of unhappiness. She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

‘
Oh, mom,’ she said, her face melting with sadness.

‘
Darling,’ said Hope, embracing her daughter. ‘I know, I know. Let it out. Awful, just awful.’

Kate sobbed on to her mother’s shoulder just as she had done as a little girl.

‘
To think of that little thing in the ocean. Who on earth could do such a thing?’

After a minute or so Kate looked up from her mother and wiped back the tears. That’s it, she thought to herself, I’ve had my cry, now pull yourself together. She swallowed the wave of sadness that threatened to sweep over her again and bit her lip. She had to tell somebody.

‘
M-mom,’ she stuttered. ‘There’s something else. I’ve got some news.’

‘
I knew it, I knew there was something. It’s not Josh again, is it? If I ever get my hands on him I’ll wring his scrawny –‘

‘
No, well, yes, sort of,’ said Kate, taking a deep breath. ‘Mom – I’m pregnant.’

Hope did not know what to say. She knew her daughter was desperate for a child. But now? After what Josh had done? After he had left her like that? She waited for Kate to speak again, careful to take the lead from her.

‘
I’m pregnant,’ she said again, tears starting to well in her eyes. ‘That’s great news, isn’t it? Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’

Kate laughed, a sour, bitter laugh that soon turned into a sob. Hope let her daughter cry, holding her as her body shook.

‘
I’m sorry, mom,’ she said, determined to pull herself together. ‘Honestly, look at me, making a fool of myself.’

‘
Darling, don’t be silly. It’s good to have a little breakdown now and again.’

Kate smiled as her mother stroked her hand. ‘But you and Josh – you’re not back together again?’

‘
God, no,’ said Kate, snorting with derision. ‘I wouldn’t go back to him if my life depended on it.’

‘
So – when – how?’ he mother struggled for the right words.

‘
It must have been the last time we went to the clinic. Just before – before Josh decided to - ’

‘
Oh my god. Darling. What are you going to do? I mean - ’

‘
I’m going to have it, no question about that. I know the circumstances aren’t ideal. But I don’t have the time to wait around for another good-looking bastard to fall in love with me.’

She laughed at her daughter’s sardonic sense of humour. She had always been a touch cynical, even when she was a little girl. She could always see through people, perhaps at times too much so, and as a child she had not been the most popular kid in school. Hope remembered once, when Kate had been in seventh grade, getting an irate phone call from one of the other parents at the school – a screenwriter, she recalled – complaining about her daughter. Apparently, the other girl had been bragging about being given her very own pony for her birthday. Kate, annoyed by the spoilt kid, had turned around to her and told that her parents had only bought her a pony because they felt guilty about not spending enough time with her. True, but hardly diplomatic, and the girl had gone home in tears, accusing her parents of not loving her enough. That had taken some smoothing out.

‘
Well, darling, you know I will do everything I can to help.’ She suddenly realised she was going to be a grandmother. Now it was her turn to feel tears sting her eyes. ‘If only your father could have been here.’

‘
I know, mom. I know.’

‘
He would have been so proud.’

They fell silent for a moment, as they watched a couple of swallows swoop down from the palm tree to drink from the swimming pool. Los Angeles rumbled and sweated beneath them, but here in the hills the breeze from the mountains felt clean and sweet.

‘
About the child,’ said Hope. ‘I - ’

But she was cut off by the ringing of her daughter’s cell phone. Kate took it out of her jeans pocket. It was Josh. She stood up and walked over towards the pool, the sight of rippling water suddenly unnerving her.

‘
Hi, Kate here,’ she said, pretending not to know it was him.

‘
Kate, it’s Josh,’ he said. He sounded under pressure, strained. She wondered what was wrong? Was he okay? Then she realised that she was supposed not to care any more. Caring was for a time when they were still together.

‘
Hi,’ she said, trying to sound as indifferent to his call as possible.

‘
How are you?’

‘
Fine. Really.’

‘
Look, I can’t talk for long. It’s been a hell of a night. One of the men in the white collar internet child porn ring we had been tracking has just been found murdered.’

‘
Why?’ Even though she no longer had anything to do with the investigation of crimes she found it hard to step away completely. ‘What happened?’

‘
Are you really sure you want to know?’ There was a pause on the end of the line. Josh could visualise Kate giving him one of those withering, don’t patronise me stares that she seemed to specialise in. ‘Okay, okay. The victim was found in his bath in his house in Westwood, naked, covered in blood. Looks like the perp cut off the guy’s penis, before - before shoving it into his mouth.’

‘
God.’

‘
Yeah, I know.’

‘
Do you know anything else?’ She couldn’t help herself. Her job had gotten into her blood.

‘
We’re not sure yet. There are a few other cuts to the body, mostly surface. But no signs of forced entry, so it seems like he must have known the killer.’

‘
So the victim was an abuser? He’d served time?’

‘
That’s the weird thing, no. No abuse that we know of. Mr Respectability, well on the surface anyway. Worked in a bank in Century City, divorced with two kids.’

‘
But you were investigating him?’

‘
Yeah. Downloading child porn, swapping images, those kind of things. Sorry. Anyway, that’s not why I called. It’s about the baby.’

Kate felt her heart beat faster, her face flush. How did he know? Who could have told him?

‘
She’s been identified. Sara-Jane Gable.’

She felt a sudden sense of shame.

‘
Only child of Susan and Joseph Gable of Los Feliz. Both 28 years of age. Married for two years. He’s an electrician at one of the TV studios, she was a make-up girl before having the baby. Nice kids. It’s not official yet, but we don’t think they’re suspects.’

‘
So someone stole into their house and took the baby?’

‘
Seems like it, yeah. No prints were found, not much in the way of forensics. You can imagine how they must be feeling.’

‘
God, poor things.’

‘
Anyway, we got a call from the mother. Seems like she – well, both of them – want to meet you. To ask you a few questions. And, I think, to thank you for trying to save their daughter’s life.’

5

Kate drove down Santa Monica Boulevard, occasionally glancing up at the hills of Griffith Park. She turned left into North Vermont, past a cinema, a couple of cool-looking cafes and a bookshop and into the maze of streets that lay to the east of the avenue. She parked just off the intersection of Franklin and Hillhurst, around the corner from the public library, and walked until she found the Gables’ home.

The house looked like any other on the street – a single-storey structure that stood in its own small plot of land, with a patchy, yellowing lawn and a few scraggly plants in pots out front. She paused by the gate, nervous about what she would find inside. She tried to imagine what it must be like to carry a child, give birth, all those hours spent nurturing, feeding, loving, only to have your baby snatched from you. The panic. The desperation. The terror. Hours spent waiting, hoping for the best. Then to discover somebody had snuffed out its life by deliberately dumping it into the sea, where it had been left to die. What could she say to make them feel any better? What could she do to take away their pain? Nothing. But they wanted to see her. To thank her. But what had she done? No matter how hard she had tried she hadn’t been able to save that child’s life.

She took a deep breath, opened the gate and approached the porch. She ran her hands through her hair, and nervously bit her lip as she rang the bell and waited. A moment later a young dark-haired man – short, stocky and muscular – opened the door. Kate saw the recognisable signs of grief etched into his face: circles of red ringed around the eyes, pale skin, haunted eyes.

‘
I’m Joe,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘We’re so pleased you could come, Dr – it is doctor, isn’t it? – Dr Cramer. This way, my wife is inside.’

All the blinds of the house had been drawn, but a couple of table lights cast an artificial glow over the interior. In the corner, in a wicker rocking chair, sat a pale, thin woman with hair the colour of straw. She gripped the sides of the chair as she rocked back and forth, staring at the ground as she did so.

‘
Susan? Susan?’ said Joe, gently as if he were trying to wake his wife from a dream. ‘Dr Cramer is here to see us.’

There was no response except for the creak of the rocking chair moving back and forth over the wooden floor.

‘
You’ll have to excuse my wife,’ he said. ‘As you can imagine it’s been a tough few days for us.’

‘
I completely understand. I can’t tell you how I was – how sorry I am.’

The air hung heavy with grief.

‘
Can I get you a drink? Some Coke, water, beer?’

‘
Yes, water would be great.’

‘
I won’t be a second,’ said Joe, as he disappeared into the narrow kitchen at the back of the house. ‘So you’re a doctor. Where do you work? In a hospital?’

‘
Oh, I’m not a proper doctor,’ she said, suddenly feeling like a fraud. ‘The title – which I have to say I don’t really use now – refers to a doctorate I did when I was studying. I was a forensic anthropologist – I worked closely with the police here in the city – but I’m a photographer now.’

‘
I see,’ said Joe, handing her a glass of water. ‘That sounds interesting. Where did you –‘

A harsh, angry voice from the corner of the room stopped him.

‘
So you couldn’t have saved my baby’s life anyway.’

‘
Susan – you know Dr –‘

‘
She just said she isn’t a doctor.’ She said looking up, her eyes full of tears of fury.

‘
I know, Susan, but I’m sure she did everything she –‘

‘
She did nothing,’ she said, spitting out the words. ‘She let our baby die.’