Heller's Girlfriend (41 page)

“Sure thing, Boss.”

He returned quickly with a
Heller’s
work shirt and a pair of black track pants.

Heller pushed them into my lap.
“Go and change. You need to get out of those clothes.”

I blearily looked down at my
formerly white singlet top. “That’s a lot of blood. I don’t know if
it’s mine or Daniel’s,” I mumbled, as if it mattered. I stood
slowly, swaying on my bare feet, clutching the clothes with my good
hand.

He walked me to the ladies room
and I spent an age in there trying to dress with one hand, my
coordination not great. The clothes were miles too big for me and I
had to pull the drawstring on the track pants as tightly as they
would go to have even the slightest chance of keeping them up. I
was about to throw my pyjamas into the bin, but realised they might
be evidence. So I laid them next to the basin and stared at myself
in the mirror with despair. I used some wet tissue paper to wipe as
much blood from my face and neck as I could. I washed my hands and
arms free of blood as best I could with one hand out of action and
watched in a daze as the red-tinged water emptied from the
basin.

A woman entered the bathroom,
staring at me in horror. She gave me a wide berth as she went into
a cubicle, locking it instantly behind her. That hurt. I felt like
a freak. More tears dripped from my eyes as I left the bathroom,
hand clamped around my bloody clothes. Heller waited for me,
leaning against the wall yawning. He straightened when I approached
and noticing the tears, held out his arms. I stepped into them and
leaned against him, putting my head on his shoulder and letting the
tears trickle down my face. He stroked my back and my hair and let
my silent tears run their course. After a bit, he gently guided me
back to the waiting room and sat me down. He went to the vending
machines and came back with a coffee each and a sandwich to
share.

I sipped on the acrid brew,
splashing some on my pants as my hand was trembling uncontrollably,
but could barely choke down a bite of the disgusting sandwich.
Heller delicately pushed back the rat tails of my claggy,
blood-stiffened hair from my neck and examined the stitches
expressionlessly.

“Is that a ‘W’?” he asked.

I nodded, head down,
ashamed.

“What’s it for?”

“Whore. Because I’m a
man-stealing whore and I should never forget it.”

His expression remained neutral,
but his fists clenched so tightly that his nails left imprints in
his palms. “You should have let me deal with her myself. I would
have enjoyed it. I would have made her suffer.”

“No.” I looked up at him. “She’s
obsessed with you. She’s so in love with you that every day without
you makes her suffer unbearably. Every day of every year for the
rest of her life without you will be torture for her. And that’s
what I want. I don’t ever want her punishment to finish.”

And at that moment, I didn’t
know which one of us was less human in our anger. We sat
quietly.

“Do you want to talk yet, my
sweet?”

“No.” I never wanted to talk
about it again.

“You were right about her.”

I stayed silent.

“I should have listened to you a
long time ago.”

Silence.

“I’m so sorry, Matilda. I never
imagined for a minute that she would take it out on you.”

“I always thought you would come
when I needed you; that you would know when I was in trouble. But
you didn’t know. Daniel came instead. He knew.” More unwanted tears
ran down my cheek and dripped onto my lap. “My darling Daniel. He
had no chance. He didn’t even see her. I tried to warn him.”

“I know you did. I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry about everything.” I glanced at him. His face was
twisted with guilt and self-reproach. I looked away.

I finished my coffee and
crumpled the plastic cup before throwing it in the nearest bin. I
missed and it fell to the floor.

“Matilda. I feel as if we’re in
danger of losing something between us.”

“Maybe I just need to be more
realistic about my expectations of people. Maybe I’m not as
important to some people as I thought I was.”

I suddenly needed to get away
from him. I stood up and retrieved the litter from the floor, and
placed it in the bin. Then I walked over to Niq, and sat next to
him, sliding my right arm around his shoulder, turning my eyes to
the flickering images on the TV screen. I stayed there, dozing, my
head resting against Niq’s, until I was approached by a couple of
detectives who were on the team investigating the assaults against
Daniel and me. It would be a difficult case for the police to
manage – a rogue cop always attracted media attention, and the
sordid circumstances of this case would attract double interest. I
expected it to be dealt with quickly to damp down speculation and
awkward questions.

The detectives looked at me
askance as they took in my dishevelled injured appearance, but
assured me that Violet had been taken into custody and was
currently being interviewed at the station. Heller silently moved
to my side as they started asking me questions and they gave him
the once-over, but let him stay.

I tried to stay calm and
unemotional as I took them through my ordeal, but inevitably, tears
spilled over and Heller handed me his hankie without a word. They
didn’t ask Heller any questions and I presumed that was because
he’d already given them a statement earlier. Instead they moved on
to Clive. Then Sid and Niq, both of whom knew nothing, Sid having
been tied up in a work problem and Niq thankfully fast asleep at
Daniel’s place. I handed over my blood-soaked pyjamas. They advised
us all that we’d be visited again by some detectives in the near
future and I groaned inwardly. I was getting sick of talking to the
police.

After they left, a surgeon
approached us, heading straight to Heller. He knew an authority
figure when he saw one. He let us know that Daniel was in intensive
care for the night and that the operation had successfully removed
a bullet that had lodged frighteningly close to his spine. He
cautiously admitted that he expected Daniel to make a full, though
slow, recovery. We were allowed to briefly visit him in intensive
care in small groups.

Daniel was pale and thin in the
hospital bed, tubes spilling from his body, machines beeping all
around him, watchful nurses on duty. There’s no place quite like
the ICU. It’s all sombre business in there – no windows and no
fluffy toys or flowers or get well cards or laughing visitors
casually coming and going.

I kissed and hugged his
unconscious body, demanding with quiet tearfulness that he recover
soon. We left Daniel to the care of the medical staff after Heller
gave the attending doctor his phone number, demanding to know of
any change in Daniel’s status, no matter how small.

I didn’t want to go back to my
flat, but I refused to go to Heller’s as he requested. Instead I
moved into Daniel’s place and slept in his empty bed, which smelt
of him, while Niq stayed in the other room. I stayed there for the
next few nights, until I felt strong enough to return to my place.
In the meantime, Heller had arranged for my flat to be thoroughly
cleaned of all signs of the attack. I think I even had a new carpet
in the living area.

Days passed. I visited a
specialist to have my hand properly assessed and endured a few
operations to have pins inserted into the bones that hadn’t broken
cleanly. The stitches were removed from my neck and those wounds
healed nicely. Niq and I spent most of our time at the hospital,
squeezing into Daniel’s bed with him, teasing him, entertaining
him, and watching anxiously as he went through his painful physical
therapy.

Chapter 30

Patricia’s trial rapidly
approached and Heller and I had both been summoned to appear as
witnesses, fortunately scheduled to be in the witness stand on the
same day. I made sure that I looked professional and respectable,
despite my broken hand, scarring and remnants of bruising, Heller
and I both dressed in our
Heller’s
uniforms. I had learned
to manage with just one operational hand and didn’t need to ask for
too much assistance. I fidgeted all the way downtown to the court
complex, and Heller asked me if I was nervous.

“Yes, I’m very nervous,” I
confessed, trying to breathe deeply.

“You have Vanessa’s trial to get
through as well,” he reminded me.

“Violet,” I reminded him. “Maybe
she’ll just plead guilty and save us all the bother?” It was a vain
hope and the sceptical look he threw me only confirmed that.

We waited patiently outside the
courtroom and I was surprised at how many people were there.
Obviously there was an expectation that the witnesses called today
would be dealt with speedily.

I was sitting by myself when
Heller left to buy us a coffee. I heard my name being called. I
turned in surprise, and smiled delightedly when I recognised the
man eagerly striding towards me.

“Bick!”

I’d hoped that he’d also been
called up for today. He enveloped me in a bear hug, not caring
about crushing his Select Security uniform or the curious glances
we received.

“Why haven’t you rung me?” we
asked each other simultaneously, then laughed.

“My boss has been working me
hard. I’ve been out of town for months on an assignment. Just got
back the other day. What’s your excuse, Matilda Chalmers?”

“I’ve been busy too, Bickley
Barnes. A female security officer’s life is not all painting my
toenails and getting my hair done, you know. Heller expects me to
do some work as well now and then,” I smiled.

He noticed my hand, immediately
concerned. He grasped my arm gently and examined it.

“What happened? Been beating up
more men?”

I laughed. “I had a scary
encounter with a bunny boiler. You can read all about it in the
news in a few months when she goes to trial.”

He didn’t laugh, but frowned,
grazing his fingers on my newly healed neck wounds. “This too?”

“What’s this? I leave her alone
for a second only to catch her socialising with the competition,”
Heller spoke from behind me. His tone was light, but his eyes were
heavily guarded and suspicious as he assessed Bick, handing me my
coffee and sipping from his. He was on full alert, hackles up.

“Heller, this is Bick Barnes.
You’ll remember that I’ve mentioned him. We worked together on
Patricia’s assignment. On different sides obviously. Bick, this is
my boss, Heller.”

They shook hands firmly and
sized each other up.

“I know who Heller is,” Bick
said.

“Weren’t you going to send me
your CV?” Heller asked.

“I plan to. I was just
explaining to Tilly that I’ve been out of town for a few months on
assignment.”

“So you didn’t catch Matilda’s
fire heroics or her granny scandal?”

I discreetly elbowed Heller in
annoyance and shot him an unamused glare.

“No! But they sound intriguing.
You’ll have to tell me all about it, Tilly,” he said, flashing that
lovely smile.

“Maybe not, Bick. I’m still
trying to live them down,” I admitted ruefully. The courtroom door
opened and the bailiff called out Bick’s name. He winked at me as
he entered the courtroom, ready to take his turn on the witness
stand.

“Well?” I asked Heller.

“Well what?”

“What do you think about him? Do
you want to hire him?”

“Matilda, apparently unlike you,
I need more to go on than just good looks and a winning smile. I
want to know about his experience and skills. I’ll consider him
properly when he sends me his CV.”

“But you like what you see,
don’t you?”

“He’s well-built and his muscle
tone is strong. He seems friendly and articulate, always a bonus in
a security officer. So from what I’ve seen, yes. However I need
more information.”

But I was satisfied with that
response and sat back happily. Bick and I might be workmates one
day. Heller was called into the courtroom next, and Bick kindly
kept me company until he returned, even though his boss had given
him specific instructions to get back to work as soon as he was
finished. After all, he wasn’t earning his boss any money sitting
in a courtroom.

“So, you still have that
boyfriend?” he asked in a teasing voice.

My face fell. “No,” I said
quietly.

“Oh God, Tilly. I’m sorry. I
didn’t know. God, why can’t I just shut my stupid mouth for once?
I’m always putting my foot in it.”

I smiled at him sadly and
shrugged. “That’s life, hey?”

“That’s life,” he agreed.

When Heller finished and came
out, Bick stood up and said goodbye to us, shaking Heller’s hand
and giving me a quick peck on the cheek. He strode off, turning
around to smile at me once before he left.

Then it was my turn. I was proud
of how calm and reasonable I sounded as Patricia’s criminal lawyer
took me through the time I’d spent with her, my altercations with
the deceased man and my recollection of the events that unfolded. I
was cross-examined half-heartedly by the crown prosecutor, but much
of my testimony was unchallenged and I was soon free to leave the
witness stand.

Heller took me to lunch
afterwards at a cosy, rustic Italian restaurant where we ate pasta
and I quaffed a glass of a lovely shiraz. At the end of the meal,
he reached across the table and took my good hand in his.

“We haven’t talked about what
happened at all yet. I think we really need to, Matilda. We need to
talk about us as well.”
Geez, since when had a man ever
volunteered to do that?

“When Daniel’s completely
recovered, then we’ll talk. I’ll know for sure by then that it
doesn’t matter what she did, she didn’t win.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll go
away together for a few days. Spend some time with each other. Just
you and me, no interruptions.”