Deadly Deeds (17 page)

I was made ward of the State.

For years, I was angry, frightened, and hungry for justice. I swore to myself I would do everything in my power to stop people hurting others. I swore I would try to find some kind of justice for those who couldn’t get it. Because I felt like I never got my justice. Even as a grown-up, I still ached from years of sexual abuse, for having had my childhood torn in half, for being punished by losing my mother when all I did was try to protect myself.

And now that I was losing Frank, I felt bitter against the world. But I knew with or without Frank, I would never lose sight of my quest for justice. I would never back down and run away. Because in my heart, I was still a little girl who cried in pain, who tried to get back the mother she’d lost a long time ago, who never understood why the people who were supposed to love and protect her could be so cruel.

I made myself a cup of black coffee as I wondered if there would ever be a way to end the hurting inside. I learned to live with it a long time ago, but now and then, when I felt unloved and unwanted, I didn’t cope too well.

And it made my heart bleed that I wasn’t getting on with Michael as well as I wanted.

I smiled to myself, wondering if I was just a big baby who needed to grow up.

Tears came streaming down my face.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

W
hen Frank rang the door bell, I jumped from the sofa in the lounge room as if I was in cardiac arrest. In spite of having just emptied two mugs of black coffee, I somehow managed to fall asleep in less than ten minutes. I knew it was due to my irregular sleeping habits, worries about the Wilson’s homicide, and, whether I’d like to admit it or not, the anxiety of not knowing where I would be in the next six months. I also worried about the internal inquiry by the VFSC and the CIB, and the independent inquiry by the Deputy Commissioner of Police. And the realisation that my friendship with Frank was down-spiralling into a dark pit of nothingness.

When I crossed the hallway and reached for the front door knob, I tried hard to control my churning emotion. I hated to jump on Frank like a scavenging vulture. He needed to know I was level-headed about Jeremy Wilson’s murder. I didn’t go and investigate behind his back because I was jealous of his affair with Teresa, although I wondered at times if that was true.

As soon as I opened the door, he began shouting, not giving himself a chance to catch his breath, ‘I’m getting sick and tired of your bullshit, Malina! What the hell has gotten into you? Why are you trying to ruin my life? For the first time ever, I’ve found someone I really care about. Teresa Wilson might not be your ideal woman, but she is to me. Is this some kind of jealousy?’

I was about to answer, but he went on, ‘Because if it is, you better get some help. This case has gone to your head. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is, and I don’t need more shit from you.’

He stopped abruptly, obviously waiting for me to come down on him like a ton of bricks.

But I remained silent and looked at him with compassionate eyes.

Obviously expecting some other form of reaction, he froze in the hallway, lost for words. He played with the sleeve buttons of his blue shirt, and then tucked his hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans.

‘
Would you like something to drink?’ I said calmly, not reacting to his verbal abuse.

The muscles on his neck relaxed as he realised how tactlessly he had just acted.

‘Give me glass of water,’ he ordered, his tone down a couple of notches.

I paced along the hallway.

He followed, muttering to himself.             

Once in the kitchen, I filled two tumblers with ice and Noble’s purified water.

He stood there the entire time, not saying a word. He was obviously trying to figure out his next move. I had let my guard down, and he hadn’t expected it.

‘
Let’s go and talk in the lounge room,’ I said, carrying a tray with the iced water.

He grabbed one glass and sat opposite me, across the coffee table.

‘Let me begin by this,’ I continued.

He interrupted, raising one hand in the air, as if he was redirecting invisible traffic. ‘My relationship with Teresa Wilson is none of your business.’

I  pursed my lips. ‘Are you going to give me a chance to explain, or is this going to be an on-going monologue?’

‘
All right. Go ahead. I’m listening.’ He sipped from his glass.

I locked my eyes into his. ‘Frank,’ I said, ‘let’s get something straight from the top. I agree your relationships are none of my business.’

He nodded in approval.

‘
And your affair with Teresa Wilson is no different.’

He nodded again.

‘But, in this case, we’re not talking just about an affair.’

This time, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

I went on, ‘If you could just put out of your mind your relationship with Teresa for a minute, we might get somewhere. I want to talk strictly homicidal investigation here. I want to throw out all emotions, all personal interest, all biased opinions. I want you to listen to what I have to say, and I want you to let me finish. Then, I will give you the same courtesy, because right now, it feels like you’re not giving me much of a chance at all.’

He fidgeted with his hands, obviously upset he was made to feel half responsible for the communication problem we were having.

I continued, ‘This won’t take long, but it’s important to keep your mind open and bear with me for the next twenty minutes or so. Okay?’

‘
Right,’ he said, in a tone which implied I gave him no choice either way.

I told him everything I knew so far, even how Teresa had been having an affair with Walter Dunn for over a year. I told him about Walter Dunn’s autopsy, and how it clearly indicated murder was the reason for his death. To support my point, I rushed to my study, raced back to the lounge room, and handed him the copy of Walter Dunn’s autopsy report, which John Darcy had so kindly made for me. The important sections were highlighted with a yellow Boss marker.

As he scanned through the autopsy report, blood drained from his face. He passed one hand over his receding hairline, as if to check if hair had suddenly grown in the last two minutes. He was not taking this too well, and it upset me. I had no intention of hurting Frank, but I had little choice in the matter.

‘
Where did you get this from?’ he asked, avoiding eye-contact.

The letterhead of the VIFM was at the top, showing clearly where the document originated from. What he really wanted to know was who gave me a copy of it.

‘It doesn’t matter where I got it from. This autopsy report is genuine, and everything I’ve told you is genuine as well. I need your help Frank. This is getting too hard for me to handle alone, especially when I feel like you’re against me.’

He threw the copy of the report on the table and remained silent for a few minutes.

I was unsure what he was thinking now.

Grabbing his empty glass of water, I went back to the kitchen for a refill. I wanted to give him enough space for the bad news to sink in. Being in his shoes would have been a nightmare. But had he known the truth later rather than now, his life could have been shattered.

‘All right,’ he sighed, ‘what do you want me to do?’

I crossed back to the lounge room, his glass refilled with ice and water. ‘Get her out of your apartment until we find out what’s going on.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not that easy, Malina. What do I tell her? What reason do I give her.’

‘
Tell her you’re confused, you don’t think you love her or something. You made a mistake, you need more time, God, I don’t know. Use your imagination.’

He stared at me blankly. ‘Jesus, Malina, I care about the girl. I can’t just treat her like shit. It’s not like I made this whole thing up.’

I sat next to him and moved my head forward. ‘I know you care about her, but you’re not the only person in the world who’s fallen in love.’ I didn’t believe he had, but who was I to say.

‘
What would you know about love?’

‘
Frank,’ I protested, ‘don’t. You don’t have to judge my life every time we’re having a disagreement.’

He hesitated and said, ‘Wouldn’t it be better to leave her in my apartment? If what you told me is true, I’ve got a better chance of finding out the truth by being close to her.’

‘No, Frank, because the truth is going to hurt you like nothing else in the world can.’

‘
I can take it.’

‘
No, you can’t. You can’t even take it now. You don’t even know how to handle this. I don’t want you to get hurt, Frank. I care a lot about you.’ My hands reached for his. ‘Don’t do this to yourself. This is difficult for the both of us.’ I reached out for him.

He remained with his head down for a little while, his hands tucked in mine.

Suddenly he looked up and said, ‘Tell me something, but you’ve got to promise me an honest answer. Okay?’

I knew what was coming, and I was unsure if I was ready for it. ‘Okay. What is it?’

‘Do you love me, Malina?’

I swallowed and, without hesitation, said, ‘No, I don’t. I really care about you, but I’m not in love with you.’

I had known that for a long time, but hearing it out loud felt kind of strange. I’d never expressed it so firmly before, not to myself, nor to anyone else. I guessed he must have thought the same thing, because a look of despair crossed his face.

Clearly upset, he retrieved his hands from mine. ‘I don’t understand you, Malina. It’s very difficult for me to make sense of what’s going on. You know how I feel about you.’

‘I know, and you don’t have to say anything.’

‘
And now you make me wonder if Teresa is just an excuse because I can’t have you.’

‘
Don’t be so impatient. You don’t know what the future holds.’

‘
Impatient? Christ, Malina, I’ve known you for five years. How patient am I supposed to be? Do you know how long five years is when you have to work with someone everyday? I make myself sick every night, wondering if you’re suddenly going to find someone else, and then I’d lose you forever. I hope everyday might be the right day to tell you how I feel. I took it slowly for fear of losing you. I’ve never forced myself on you. Never.’

‘
I know you haven’t, Frank. And I appreciate that.’

‘
I respect you, you know. That’s why I never made a pass at you. I didn’t want you to think I was
that
kind of man.’

‘
I know you’re not,’ I assured him, but I was uncertain what he meant. How many ways was there to let someone know you cared about them, apart from being obvious?

I’d known he liked me from the first time we met, but I never guessed he was in love with me, although it seemed pretty obvious now. Men had a bad habit of falling in love too easily. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life listening to me telling him how to dress, how to think, how to be careful every time he stepped outside?

I felt bad for him, but it was impossible to fall in love with a man I wasn’t attracted to.

He emptied his glass of water and said, ‘This is a hell of a lot of stuff to take in for one day. I’d like to spend some time on my own, if you don’t mind.’

I understood how he felt, because I had been feeling like that for the past two weeks.

‘
It’s okay, Frank. You go and do what you have to do. But don’t you do anything silly now. You know I’m on your side, no matter what. Friends, remember?’

He nodded with an awkward smile. ‘If I wanted friends, I’d go to summer camp.’

His reply hurt.

I walked him to the door and kissed him on the cheek.

I was restless on Monday night after Frank left. I made myself sick, worrying about how he was going to cope, how he was going to react to having Teresa under his roof now that he knew things she didn’t know he knew.

Michael called me and asked if he could stay over at Chris’s. I told him okay as long as he kept in touch now and then.

I got out of bed four or five times during the night and tried to read. My mind floated from one stream of thought to another, making it impossible to sleep concentrate on my Sue Grafton novel.

I tried to watch television for a while, but it bored me.

I made myself a mug of hot milk, hoping it would send me to sleep.

But it was way past 5.00 a.m. when I finally closed my eyes and forgot about everything for a while.

At 10.34 a.m., the telephone woke me up. The time was glowing in bright red letters on my clock radio, next to my bed.

I turned to the window and noticed the sky was clear outside.

The answering machine in the kitchen took the call before I had a chance to answer it from the bedroom.

I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen.

‘
It’s John Darcy from the lab,’ the voice said at the end of the line.

‘
What’s up?’

‘
I’ve found something interesting you might like to see.’

‘
What?’

‘
It’ll be better if you come.’

‘
Give me an hour.’

I hung up and jumped in and out of the shower in ten minutes. I dressed in a yellow skirt with matching jacket and a white blouse.

Back in the kitchen I washed down a multivitamin with a cup of lukewarm coffee.

Rushing downstairs, I almost forgot my mobile phone.

As I wondered what John wanted to show me, I inserted the key into the ignition of my car but instead of the engine roaring, there was a click and nothing.

I tried again.

Damn, the battery is dead!

I opened the bonnet, fiddled with the cables connected to the battery, jumped back in the driver’s seat and tried again.