Heller's Revenge (39 page)

She nodded sympathetically and
then, as if realising my fragile emotional state, chatted about
boring celebrity gossip the rest of the way to the station. I
didn’t even listen to her, numb with emotion.

At the station, she led me to
one of the smelly, internal interview rooms with no windows and
utilitarian furniture. In a solicitous but misguided attempt to
console me, she brought me a cup of over-sweet milky tea and an
indescribable sandwich of something that appeared to be crumbled
cheap mattress filling with mayo and limp lettuce. I took a tiny
nibble and almost lost my stomach, so concentrated my attention on
the tea instead.

In that bare little room, alone,
silence all around me, I finally let my mind wander back to those
last happy hours I’d shared with Meili before he was killed. The
awful events of the afternoon replayed over and over in my mind,
and I wondered what I could have done differently to save Meili’s
life. I laid my head on my arms and cried. I thought my heart would
break with the amount of tears I shed, creating a small puddle on
the table in front of me. Heller’s hankie was completely useless by
that stage, even when I wrung it out, so I cast it aside and
started using my shirt to wipe my eyes and when that was also
drenched, I started using my arms.

When Brian belligerently stormed
into the interview room, in a foul mood, trailed by his fed-up
partner, they both stopped at the door to gaze at the ruin of me.
My leg was still bleeding and I had a giant wet patch of dripping
blood soaking through the thigh on my jeans to match the giant wet
patch of tears on my shirt.

“Jesus, Brian,” spat Detective
Robbins with unmistakable disgust. “Let her go for now. She’s not
up to it at the moment. She needs medical attention. She’s your
sister
, for God’s sake!”

“Go ring Heller. We’ll talk to
you tomorrow,” Brian said immediately, shamefaced. I rang Heller
tearfully, and pushed back my chair, limping past them with all the
dignity I could muster.

“Thank you,” I said to Detective
Robbins, glancing up at him as I passed. He nodded curtly and I
kept going, not saying a word to Brian, making my own way to the
waiting room, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown my
way.

Chapter 25

“Anyone with half a brain could
see that you weren’t up to an interview today. Your brother doesn’t
even have that,” Heller repeated himself on the drive home, not
realising how furious I was growing with this stupid feud between
the two of them.

Meili had been killed!
A
beautiful, vital man would never take another breath, would never
laugh again. I’d never see him or touch him again and all those two
stupid men could think about was their egos. I could have killed
Heller right then with my own bare hands, which clenched with
bitter anger on my lap as he spoke.

When we arrived home I stalked
up to my flat, fumbling for my swipe card, thankful for the
millionth time that I hadn’t taken my handbag with me on the boat.
I slammed the door in Heller’s face. I took a long shower and
dressed in clean clothes, placing my blood-drenched jeans in a
bucket to soak. Blood wasn’t the easiest stain to remove from
clothes, I’d learned the hard way.

I didn’t bother to eat, knowing
that even a morsel of food would only clog my throat. As I was
deciding whether to attempt to find solace in sleep, there was a
sharp rap on my door.

“
Piss off!
” I yelled out
angrily.

“It’s Dr Kincaid, Miss,” spoke a
calm voice from the other side.

Oh dear!
I limped over
and unlocked the door. “Sorry Doc. My apologies. I thought you were
someone else.”

“Him?” the doctor asked, nodding
over his shoulder to where Heller was standing.

“Yes,” I sighed with
resignation.

It was virtually impossible to
keep Heller out of my place, and I no longer had the energy to try.
They both came in and shut the door quietly. After my shower I had
bandaged my wound as best I could, but it was bleeding a fair deal
and had already soaked through the bandage in places. I rested on
the lounge on my side so he could examine my wound, after laying
down a towel on the lounge to protect it.

“That’s a nasty gash. How did
you get it?”

“I was on a boat that blew up. A
bit of flying metal, maybe? I don’t know.”

“Did they give you a tetanus
booster at the hospital?”

“I don’t remember.”

“They did,” confirmed
Heller.

“Good. Now, how did you come to
split your stitches open, Miss?”

“I chased someone. He stole
something precious from me and I had to get it back. Then I tackled
him to the ground. I don’t suppose that helped either.”

“I doubt it. I’m going to have
to restitch the wound. From memory you’re not the fainting type,
are you?”

“No!” I replied indignantly.
Heller smiled faintly.

“Just refreshing my memory. I’ll
give you a couple of locals and do it now. Move your leg this way .
. . that’s right . . . and we’ll prop it up with this pillow for
stability. Stay perfectly still now please, or I won’t do a good
job and you’ll end up with an ugly scar.”

I endured the needles and
re-stitching, staring grim-faced at my wall.

After a while, the doctor said,
“All done. Here are some painkillers for you. Try to stay off your
feet and rest your leg please.”

“That’s not going to be
possible,” I told him.

“She will,” promised Heller.

They both left and I climbed
into bed, lying in the dark for ages, not able to sleep and
brooding over everything. My emotions were in turmoil and I didn’t
know how I felt or how I was supposed to feel. A soft little knock
on my door interrupted my musings.

I limped out and opened it
cautiously. It wasn’t the abominable Heller, but the perfectly
lovely Daniel. I pulled him inside. He took one look at my
tear-ravaged face and opened his arms without a comment. I stepped
into them gratefully.
Finally!
Someone who knew how to
comfort me without moralising, criticising, wanting revenge or
picking a fight. I hugged him tightly and he hugged me tightly
back, not minding that I was drenching his shirt with my tears.

He guided me over to the lounge
where we sat and talked for an hour, his arms wrapped around me. I
leaned on his chest while I spoke, and sure, I cried some more.
Well, who wouldn’t? He was calm and supportive, but not overly
sympathetic to set me off unnecessarily again. But best of all, he
was completely uninterested in asserting any male dominance in the
situation, content to show his loving concern for me after my
terrible experience. And that comforted me more than anything else
had since Meili’s death.

Suddenly exhausted, I relaxed
against him, emotionally and physically drained. He helped me to
bed, tucked me in and kissed me quickly on the lips before leaving.
I fell asleep immediately and slept for long, dreamless hours.

A stealthy noise woke me up and
I sat up in panic. Was it the jogger? Didn’t he know I’d given the
photos to the police? But then I recognised the familiar tread and
flopped back down on the bed. It was just Heller. Who else?

“You scared me. I thought you
were that jogger coming back to get me,” I accused. He sat on my
bed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
wake you.” I rolled away, turning my back on him. “Matilda, you’re
so angry with me and I don’t know why.”

I rolled onto my back again,
staring up in the darkness at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you why.
Meili Eriksen died today and he was a wonderful, special person who
I was very, very fond of. He achieved important things with
humility and compassion and I watched him die in an instant from
two stupid fucking bullets. He didn’t even realise. He had no time
to prepare himself or defend himself. His loss will be felt around
the world, through the hundreds of thousands of people who read his
blog and Facebook, his millions of fans, his sponsors, his many
friends, his family. An important man who gave up everything he had
to try to make the world a better place for all of us – gone, just
like that, in an instant. Alive one minute and dead the next. And
yet you and Brian spend every precious breath you have hating each
other and trying to bring each other down.” I turned my head
towards him fiercely. “Do you see how I’m making an unfavourable
comparison?”

“I’m not welcome here tonight,”
he said, his voice flat.

“No, you’re not,” I told him
coldly.

He left without another word. I
rolled over and pretended to sleep, although in truth it was
another hour until I could finally close my eyes and relax into
that dark pretence of death.

And I’m afraid that when Will
rang me the next day, reproaching me angrily for not being in touch
with him for so long, he was on the receiving end of a slightly
shorter version of the same lecture that I’d given Heller the night
before.

“Tilly, what are you saying? You
don’t want to see me anymore?”

“I don’t know, Will. I don’t
think I do.” And I hung up on him without even saying goodbye.

I was so upset that I was
considering breaking up with him. I had been unfaithful to him and
that was unforgivable to me.
He wouldn’t want me any more when
he found out, so I should just break up with him
, I reasoned
with myself. It would be easier for everyone if I did.

The next day, late afternoon, I
went down to the police station by myself and gave a very
comprehensive statement. Brian and his partner, whose name I
learned was Jed, showed me the photos I’d taken, with a more
considerate box of tissues and bottle of water on the table close
to me. And I forced myself to ‘bear witness’, just as Meili had
wanted me to do.

So I smiled when I saw the
tree-hugging photos flashing up on the screen, briefly explaining
the reason for them, and I dutifully pointed out the assassin in
every photo in which he appeared. I hadn’t noticed before, but
blown up like that on the wall, you could even see the gun in his
hand. Despite my resolution to be strong, I found that I needed a
few of the tissues after all. They were both kinder to me that day,
and I really took a liking to Jed. For such a big, rugged man, he
was surprisingly soothing and calm, a nice antidote to Brian’s hard
world-weariness. As I left the room, mopping my eyes, Brian put his
hand on my shoulder and I turned around surprised. I hoped he
wasn’t going to yell at me again. I would probably permanently
disown him as a brother at the rate I was going with the men in my
life.

“Tilly, I’m sorry I’ve been such
an arsehole. And I’m sorry that you saw Eriksen die. It was
barbaric and I wished you hadn’t witnessed it. I can see how upset
you are about it. And I shouldn’t take my personal problems out on
you when you’ve done so much to help me. When I was called to this
job because you had asked for me, I was pissed off with you. I knew
that Eriksen’s girlfriend’s murder is still unsolved. I thought I’d
been given a dog of a case, but you turned up with photos of the
murderer and then chased him to get your camera back, thinking
clearly enough to provide us with some of his DNA as well. We even
lifted a few usable prints off your bag. We’re running them through
the system now. You’ll be pleased to hear that the other two
witnesses also positively identified the murderer in your photos.
Thank you.” And he kissed me on the cheek.

But I wasn’t over it yet. “Okay,
Brian. I’m not really in a forgiving mood at the moment, but I will
be in a week or so and I’ll give you a ring then. But thank you
both for all your hard work.” I nodded at Jed and then I went
home.

Obviously I couldn’t go to
Meili’s funeral because I found out a little later that his older
brother had arrived in the country to take custody of his body to
be returned to Norway. I read that his father had wanted to give
him an ancient Viking funeral; that is, sending him off in the
ocean in a fiercely burning funereal boat, surrounded by his
possessions. But his mother over-ruled that fanciful idea to ensure
that he received the formal and ceremonious state funeral offered
by the government and was buried next to Inge. I thought she’d made
the right decision about what Meili would have wanted. At least he
could lie next to Inge again now, for eternity.

I did manage to watch Meili’s
funeral on the internet as it was extensively covered in the
Norwegian press, and briefly covered here by our press. I needed
even more tissues when I watched the casket being solemnly carried
from the church by his father, brothers and cousins to the
cemetery.

As a small salve to my feelings,
I decided to attend the memorial ceremony for Meili held in the
city hall a week later. I intended to go by myself, not even
mentioning it to anyone. But as I was closing my front door to walk
down the stairs to the basement to grab one of the fleet vehicles,
Heller appeared on the landing, dressed sombrely in a charcoal suit
and tie, with a light gray shirt. I hadn’t spoken to him for at
least a week so I had no idea how he knew I was planning to do
this.

He held out his hand to me. I
sighed hugely and took it and we went to the city hall together. I
didn’t know anyone of course, only waving at Maria Kavinsky, who
waved back briefly. She was too ensconced in a group of his friends
and followers to bother with me, a mere casual acquaintance.

It was a lovely ceremony.
Meili’s friends all gave very affectionate speeches reminiscing
about him and his life. All of them commented on his equal intense
loves of the environment and of Inge. Some even showed slides of
him and her together and I had to admit that they made a beautiful
couple, obviously very much in love. I shrank a little in my seat,
thinking that I had surely been a poor substitute for her. Even so,
I hoped that I’d given him some small measure of comfort in our
brief time together. I decided then that I would never speak to
anyone of what had happened between us. No one ever needed to know
that he had momentarily broken his faith with Inge out of
desolation and sorrow. And maybe Will never needed to know that I’d
done the same.