Executive Affair (15 page)

Her car was parked two blocks away. She rushed, her heels clicking, the street deserted. She got into the car and locked the doors from the inside.

The drive home was uneventful. She was careful not to go too fast, or too close to the centre line. She turned left into their street, their large white house in the first block. The sound of a siren startled her out of her thoughts. There was a police car behind her.

Oh shit!

She pulled over, parking neatly by the kerb.

‘Evening, ma'am. Can I see your driver's licence or registration?'

She switched on the car light, pretending for a few moments that she couldn't find her licence in her bag as she desperately tried to think over her options.

‘Thank you … Mrs Pozos,' he said politely, reading her name from her licence when she finally handed it to him. ‘Do you know why I stopped you?'

‘No …'

‘You haven't got your headlights on. Didn't you notice?'

‘Oh … I'm sorry … I had a busy day and I guess I'm a little preoccupied,' she explained with a nervous smile.

‘Have you had anything to drink today, Mrs Pozos?'

He was quite young, only in his early twenties, and Julia smiled at him again.

‘I had two drinks a few hours ago.' She assumed that he could smell the alcohol so it was better to appear to be honest.

‘Can you step out of the car, please?'

Fuck!

‘I'm going to ask you to perform a number of sobriety tests. Do you have any physical defects or medical problems that would prevent you from taking these tests?'

Think of something. Think of something.

‘Mrs Pozos, can you please answer the question?'

‘No …'

‘Are you comfortable doing the tests in the shoes you're wearing?'

What a stupid question!

‘Yes.'

‘I want you to listen to the instructions first … don't start the tests until I tell you to begin …'

Who the hell does he think he is? He's only a kid.

‘I want you to stand with your feet together, hands by your side and lean your head … Mrs Pozos, please wait until I'm finished before you begin …'

‘Sorry, I'm just nervous, I'm not used to this.'

Concentrate, concentrate
.

‘Okay, next one. See this pen I'm holding? I want you to follow the pen with your eyes without moving your head … look left … look more left …'

‘Are we finished now?' Julia asked wearily. She was perspiring. Her feet were aching in her shoes. Maybe she should have taken them off after all.

‘I've one last test … put your hands behind your back, please.'

She obeyed with a sigh.

‘And interlace your fingers …'

She felt cool metal against her warm wrists.

‘I'm arresting you for driving under the influence of alcohol.'

‘What? You can't do this to me! I'm fine, I'm perfectly sober!' she protested furiously as he opened the back door of his car.

‘Please, spare me. I hear it all the time. I know a DUI when I see one. I can almost guess what your reading will be when we get back to the station.'

‘These handcuffs are hurting me … they're too tight,' she complained, trying to move them so they didn't pinch her skin. They moved marginally, exposing red marks on her wrists.

‘They weren't built for comfort,' he answered un-sympathetically.

He made her wait in the back of his car while he filled in some forms. He didn't appear to be in any kind of hurry to complete the paperwork. He didn't care about her discomfort. Her legs were cramped; she was belted into an unyielding plastic seat. The seat was surrounded by a wire mesh. A cage.

‘What do you want me to do with your car? Will I get it towed for you?' He turned in his seat to face her through the plastic window that separated the front of the car from the back. She was so furious that she found it hard to speak to him. ‘It's okay where it is. I live down this street. What's going to happen now?'

He started the car and looked back at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘We're going to jail.'

‘You're not serious … I've already told you that I'm not drunk,' she argued, knowing it was futile but not able to help herself.

‘We'll see who's right when we do the tests back at the station,' he answered.

The smugness in his voice irritated her even more. ‘What tests?'

‘You'll be offered the opportunity for a blood or breath test. You'll have to go to the hospital if you choose the blood test.'

‘I'm going to call my lawyer! I don't have to do any tests – this has gone far enough.'

‘When you accepted your Californian licence, for the privilege of driving in this State, you accepted that you would undertake a blood or breath test. If you don't, then you'll lose your licence straight away and there will be an additional charge against you … and you can only call your lawyer when you have cooperatively finished our process. Understand?'

He looked at her again through the mirror. She turned her head rudely from his stare without answering.

‘How did I do?' she asked, trying to see what he was writing down.

‘You're three times over the legal limit, how's that?' He looked pleased, as if his guess had been proved right.

‘It's wrong.'

‘I've taken two tests … You can call your lawyer now if you want.' He nodded at the phones in the far corner of the room.

‘Can he come and get me?'

‘No. You gotta stay here for a minimum of four hours, until you sober up.'

It was too much. Suddenly she was yelling. ‘
What?
Where? Here? For another four hours?'

The other officers in the room looked in her direction, ready to spring into action if she got physical.

‘No, not here. In a cell.'

‘
A cell!
Are you totally crazy? You're treating me like a criminal!'

‘That's because you
are
a criminal.'

She turned her back on him and strode across the room to the phones. There were four phones mounted on the wall and they were all being used. A woman who looked like a prostitute, her mouth full of chewing gum, finished her call and sauntered away.

Julia called Tom Healy, Robert's lawyer.

He listened to her scrambled version of events before saying, ‘I'm sorry Julia, he's right – you can't go anywhere for four hours.'

‘This is unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable!' She started to cry in frustration.

‘Just calm down. Lie down on the bed and sleep it off. Then I'll come and get you.'

‘Will I have to go to court?' she asked, suddenly panicking about how she could prevent Robert from finding out.

‘Yes, in about thirty days or so.'

‘Can you represent me?'

‘No, I don't do criminal law. I can find you someone suitable. Don't worry about it now, we can talk later.'

Julia hung up reluctantly. She didn't follow his advice about sleeping on the bed; the thin mattress and blanket looked filthy. She sat on it, though it made her skin crawl.

Julia hauled herself into the passenger seat of Tom's Landcruiser.

‘This thing is too high from the ground,' she complained and he winced as she slammed the door.

‘Not for me – I love it.' He looked over his shoulder before
pulling out. ‘I guess you've lost your licence now. How are you going to get by without a set of wheels?'

‘I suppose I'll have to get a cab to work tomorrow.'

They didn't talk for the rest of the fifteen-minute drive. He turned into the street, passing her car parked on the corner.

‘I'll drive it down to the house for you after I've dropped you off,' he offered.

‘Okay.'

He pulled up outside the house. ‘I'll ring you tomorrow and let you know what's happening,' he said, giving her a supportive smile.

Julia opened the door and turned to face him before getting out. ‘Don't mention a word of this to Robert. He doesn't need to know … If the court case happens in thirty days, it will be all over before he comes home.' She slapped the keys into his hand. ‘Slip them through the letterbox when you're finished.'

You're wrong,
Tom thought as he drove away.
Robert does need to know. I'll have to tell him.

Tom was in the process of filing for a ‘no fault' divorce. Julia's drinking didn't have a direct bearing on it, but if she denied the irreconcilable differences, the judge would take her problems into consideration and would come down firmly on Robert's side.

Julia let herself into the dark emptiness. She needed a drink. She walked over to the drinks cabinet. Her hands shook as she poured herself a stiff brandy. She drank it without stopping and immediately poured herself a second. Kicking off her shoes, she sat on the warm velvet of the sofa. It had been a long day but maybe not a totally disastrous one. She relived her conversation with Dr Stearman and felt the optimism from earlier in the
day return. She blocked out any thoughts of the DUI charges. She trusted Tom to make the process as smooth and painless as possible. That's what he was paid to do. Robert had known him for years and had frequently praised his professionalism and trustworthiness.

She needed to hear Robert's voice. It was so long since she had spoken to him. The warmth of the brandy gave her the courage to dial his work number, nervous anticipation making her empty stomach churn.

‘Good afternoon. Samantha speaking.'

Samantha was Robert's secretary. Her voice sounded youthful and Julia felt viciously jealous.

‘Can I speak to Robert Pozos, please?'

‘I'm sorry, Mr Pozos is in Hong Kong. However, I'll be speaking to him shortly and I can pass on a message.'

‘Tell him his wife called. I'm at home … I'll wait for him to return my call,' Julia said with authority.

She poured another glass of brandy. And another. Robert was taking a long time to call back. The bottle was empty.

This is what drunk is … I should call the cops over to do a breath test. I'm probably fifteen times over their stupid limit by now.

Tom phoned Robert from his car phone as he drove home from Julia's. Samantha answered the phone. He had spoken to her before – she sounded like a sweet young girl. She said that Robert was in Hong Kong but she could transfer the call to his mobile phone if it was urgent. Tom classified the news of Julia's arrest as urgent.

‘Robert, Tom here. Isn't Sydney far enough for you? What are you doing way up in Hong Kong?'

‘Keeping my hand in as vice-president – we have a big deal
happening here. It's a nice city but I miss Sydney. I'm getting quite attached to it …' The line wasn't great – Robert's voice had a disconcerting echo. ‘If Samantha has given you this number, you must have something important to tell me.'

‘Yes, I do … Julia was arrested this evening for driving under the influence.'

‘For God sakes, doesn't she have any sense? Did she hurt anyone?'

‘No. I'd say that she verbally abused the officer who pulled her over, but thankfully she didn't harm anybody.'

‘How did you find out?'

‘She rang me. She was outraged at the injustice of it all. Her reading was three times the limit. She's in serious trouble and it hasn't registered with her yet.' Tom was matter-of-fact in the way only a busy lawyer could be.

‘How much trouble?' Robert asked, a sigh in his voice. ‘Will she have to go to prison?'

‘This is California,' Tom said dryly. ‘You could be arrested for DUI three times and they still wouldn't lock you up!'

‘I know Julia. She
will
do it again. And again. By the time she's locked up, it could be too late, someone could be dead.'

‘She should be in rehab, Rob.'

‘I know. She's seeing a shrink but she obviously needs more comprehensive treatment. Try convincing her, though …'

Tom was silent for a few moments. An idea was forming. ‘I could try to get the lawyer to negotiate a term in rehab with the district attorney. We could tell Julia that it's necessary unless she wants to go to prison … She won't know that you never get put away for a first offence.'

Robert clutched at the idea. ‘It's worth a try. She needs to be in rehab, and if this is the only way of getting her there …'

‘I need to check it out with Bill, that's the lawyer. I'm not an expert in this area.'

‘Thanks, Tom. I appreciate this, and everything else that you're doing. Keep me posted.'

‘Will do.'

Julia woke downstairs. The floor was hard. Her hand was at eye level. There was dried blood on her fingers. She sat up slowly. She had slept amongst the particles of glass that were all over the carpet. Where had the glass come from? She had been angry, angry with Robert for not calling back. She groaned when she remembered that it was the decanter, the one Robert had been given for his tenth anniversary with Amtech. The wall was marked from the impact. She was horrified at her own destructiveness and was sick before she could make it to the bathroom. She called work to let them know she was too ill to go in.

Dr Linda Stearman held a coffee in her strong tanned hands. Julia was also holding a coffee. Their cups were matching, pieces from a collector's pottery set.

‘Cherie told me that you were arrested,' Linda said, assessing Julia's expressionless face.

Only her hands trembled as she lifted the cup to her lips.

‘It was the evening you had your first consultation with me, right? Let's talk about what happened after you left here.'

‘I'd rather not.' Julia's voice was unyielding.

‘Okay, your choice, but it's hard for me to help you if you won't confide in me. We need some trust here if we're to get anywhere.' Linda paused to give Julia time to change her mind. She put down her cup on the glass coffee table. She could tell from Julia's whole
demeanour that she wasn't going to give in. ‘How are things with Robert? Have you spoken with him recently?'