Heroine: California Dreamin' (25 page)

“Let’s summarize”, he concluded the questioning. “What we do know is that Miss Noula had been abducted. At least we must assume that. Our colleagues who had met her with the kidnappers are still very doubtful about that. To be honest we have doubts too.” Irene remained silent. Then he started again.

“It is established that this Mister Gutierrez had hassled you. What happened after that? Did this lieutenant pull you aside? To his side? I suspect that you are in cahoots with the kidnappers. Do you know the Stockholm syndrome? Some call it also the Patty Hearst syndrome?” My brain stopped working. A panic attack let me cramp up all over and I tried to gasp some air.

“Immediately stop to bombard my client with such wicked allegations”, my friend complained. “I have never imagined that you tried to reverse the situation only because your people failed so miserably last week.” The official swallowed twice. Then he pulled himself together again.

“With all due respect, ma’am. We can’t ignore the facts. Nobody could find the alleged rapist in jail. Seems he doesn’t exist. Your client had been treated in jail for an acute drug psychosis. This Diego was allegedly murdered. By now authorities had been searching for a body twice with incredible efforts and at immense expenses. No dead body has been found. Our colleagues from Watsonville reported that your client was seen laughing with her alleged kidnappers while sitting in a restaurant. There was no hint for force and abduction. So, whom should we believe? Miss Noula or our people who worked extremely diligently?”

“Now
you
pay attention”, Irene barked back. “My client had been abducted and was threatened. She was jailed based on false allegations only because you losers were unable to guard your decoy properly. So for heaven’s sake finally quit trying to put the blame for your own failures on my client!”

“Miss Noula was supposed to lead us to the accomplices of this Mister Gutierrez. But instead what did she do?” the official hissed back. “She disappeared with her accomplices and when they were caught …” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Irene banged her fist onto the table and screamed at him.

“Now that is enough for Christ’s sake. You and your people had thrown her into the lion’s den to these people. When she finally got a hold of her husband and begged for help your men were still sitting in their car in front of her house and were bored stiff. Instead of attacking Miss Noula here you should be busy hunting down those kidnappers.” Our vis-à-vis lifted his hands in defense.

“Calm down for crying out loud. This is after all just a working hypothesis. You must understand that we have to pursue all approaches.”

“No, I do not need to understand that! If you have to use hypotheses then use at least those that are plausible.” Irene hissed back but now quite more low-key. For another half hour they kept on debating the issues on hand and which clues should still be pursued. I didn’t follow any of this any longer. The panic had knocked me out of it. Soon thereafter the meeting was adjourned. When we drove out of the underground parking it was dark outside already. We had spent all day with these people. Irene was still silent when we drove onto the interstate.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this male nurse and the diagnosis by this hospital doctor?” she inquired when we passed by San Francisco airport.

“To be honest I was embarrassed. I was so desperate that night that I looked for some support, regardless who it was. But this with the drug psychosis is also an allegation. I already had told the doctor that and set the record straight.” Irene kept on pondering.

“Where do we go from here? Are they going to jail me again?” I inquired carefully.

“Why should they? There is no evidence against you. On the contrary. Beside that they should be happy that you cooperate with them.” Slowly I calmed down again.

“What did he mean by ‘Stockholm Syndrome’?” I wanted to know now.

“We say ‘Patty Hearst Syndrome’”, she replied, apparently relieved that she could change the subject.

“Patty is the heir of a gigantic news media empire in Los Angeles. Sometime in the seventies she was abducted by a gang of crazy people. They wanted to extort ransom money. While in captivity she fell in love with the boss of the kidnappers and finally was in cahoots with them. Those imbeciles called themselves
‚
Symbionese Liberation Army
‘.

“Doesn’t sound any more intelligent than ‚
Church Of The Revelation Of Gileah
‘,” I laughed.

“No, that sounds as stupid as the other one. Now Irene had to laugh as well and I felt relief. For a while I thought that she was mad at me and that she wanted to abandon me.

“In Stockholm something similar had happened. If that was before or after Patty Hearst I don’t remember. On that occasion terrorists had taken hostages at an embassy in Stockholm. After a few days they all found some common cause.” Now I started to understand what that official was up to. First I was appalled but then it became clear to me that I had not been far away from falling into the same trap as Patty Hearst did. In my fear I had wanted to offer myself to Soto and I then could only just about pull myself together. And if the FBI agents wouldn’t have interrupted our breakfast? Who knows since I was already close to ‘surrender’ to Soto, as far as I remembered. The story could have ended completely differently.

Irene dropped me off in front of her house and I said good bye with a long kiss. A black car parked directly behind my car. The two officers were asleep. Irene didn’t notice that otherwise it probably would have meant the end of their careers. Once in my Chevy I checked my cell phone for any messages. Alarmed I saw that Pete had called. I was supposed to meet with him in the afternoon. My heart was pounding when I dialed his number. I did not want to alienate him at all. As always he answered the phone immediately.

“Is everything alright with you”, he asked concerned when I begged his forgiveness still out of breath. “Your voice sounds so strange.”

“Pete, I need your help. I’m still having difficulties. We need to go to Watsonville tomorrow. The FBI questioned me all day long and they don’t believe me. I need to find some pieces of evidence. Will you help me?”

“Of course. I’d love to. Should I come right away?” it took me some efforts to make it clear to him that I wanted to go there with him only the next day. We arranged to meet in the early afternoon. He would leave his job in a repair shop earlier.

“I hope you won’t get into any troubles if you don’t work your shift?” I asked.

“Well, you could pick me up. Then the boys see why I have to leave. Believe me they would think I am crazy if I wouldn’t do that. I could see his mischievous grin through the phone. After ending that talk I still dialed Ron’s number at his dorm. I wanted to give the two officers behind me still some more rest. Very much to my surprise it was Alonso who answered the phone. I didn’t expect that at all. We small-talked for a while then I asked him to leave a message for Ron. The FBI would currently take up all my time so that I had no time to see him at the moment. As soon as I would be available again I would contact him.

“He’ll survive I think. He’s probably out with his new one.”

“He’s got a girlfriend?” I asked quite astounded.

“Oh shoot, I hope I didn’t say anything wrong”, Alonso asked timidly.

“On the contrary, I think that’s great news”, I interrupted him as fast as possible. “It has taken long enough. He was solo for many weeks.” Alonso laughed out loud.

“Ron? Solo? Ever since I know him he has a new girlfriend every week. They indeed wait in line to get laid by him.” I was speechless. Could it be that my human insight had failed me? We finished our talk. My belly was telling me something. It took a while until I noticed that it was a touch of jealousy. Or was it wounded vanity? I honked the horn in my car to wake up my guards then I drove off. On my way home it dawned on me that these guys didn’t want to protect me. They wanted to observe me. For them I was an accomplice and if it weren’t for Irene I would be sitting in one of the FBI’s cells in San Francisco and they would probably try to soften me up. I would have to learn how to fight.

Daniel was already waiting when I came through the front door. He looked up and I saw his disgruntled expression in his face. I understood only too well. First he has to bail me out of jail, then he learned that I had an affair behind his back and today I came home late without letting him know.

“Please forgive me”, I begged him while I sat on his knees and hugged him.

“Irene and I spent the whole day at the FBI in San Francisco. They wanted to know everything in detail and actually connected me to a lie detector. Please call Irene if you do not believe me. Or the officials. It wasn’t my fault.” He grumped for a bit longer but I felt that he was relieved.

We decided to eat out in Palo Alto. There was a small Italian restaurant within an inner courtyard surrounded by palm trees; an old fountain rippled in its center. Terracotta floors gave the room some cozy ambience and soft music promised a relaxed evening. I looked forward to it.

“The car over there was parked outside of our house already for the last two days and now it followed us. Do you know those characters? Do they have anything to do with your abduction?” he asked when we got out of the car. His eyes were squinted to small slits. I giggled.

“They are guarding me. They are FBI. You want me to introduce them to you?” I had already turned around when Daniel pulled me back.

“Are you nuts? I can do without such acquaintances. But why do they keep you under surveillance? Are you a suspect or are they afraid that you might be abducted again?”

“The latter one, darling. The kidnappers are still on the loose. There is no proven evidence.” I shouldn’t have said that. If he would go to the bottom of that he might find out that the justice department still implied that I was an accomplice to the kidnappers. But Daniel ignored the subject. More important subject matters claimed the attention in his head. We ordered some drinks.

“Ingvar will go back to Sweden. He accepted his defeat. And because we are in the midst of a recession he can’t find another job. But in this way he will also get rid of his wife. Therefore he would like to give a farewell party on the weekend after next. We are also invited.” Daniel’s line of work had been in a recession ever since I heard of it for the first time. Perhaps he should look for a better employer.

“Does that mean that I have to pay very special attention to him?” I pressed on in anger.

“Yes, of course. We can’t just cancel that. After all he is my friend.” My husband didn’t begrudge Ingvar his defeat in his career but he didn’t want to go beyond that.

“Will this Mei Li also be there?” His face lit up almost unnoticeably. Only briefly but sufficiently enough to incite my jealousy.

“Of course, she does also belong to Ingvar’s team.”

“Then I don’t come along. I stay at home. Just simply let him know that I had enough of him”, I growled furiously. Let him figure out how he’d relate that to his friend. For a moment he looked at me in silence with eyes wide open.

“But you can’t do that! He’s our common friend. What would he think of me if you don’t tag along?” Then I reconsidered. My goal was to keep him away from his female boss. If I stayed at home then he would have a free hand. He might consider taking revenge. I needed to take control of the situation. Just another crazy day!

“Good. I’ll come along under one condition.”

“Okay, good. And what would that be?”

“When I allow Ingvar to fuck me you will be in the room. You may take part in it or just look on but you will be there. Otherwise I will fuck your ex-bosses brains out, run afterwards naked through the garden and then get down on your female boss. And I will stop taking the pill if you don’t play along. Until Saturday I will ovulate and it will be Ingvar’s child.” The last sentence just slipped out because I was enraged. A child would be the last thing that I needed now. Daniel stared at me with his mouth wide open. He didn’t say a thing for at least a minute. The color of his face changed from red to white and vice versa. I was afraid that I had gone too far when he cleared his throat.

“As you wish. I will talk to him. But you will not discontinue taking the pill. Is that clear?” I had expected that he would cancel going to the party voluntarily. I was therefore quite surprised. But it was set. All that talk had quite excited me and now I thought - with quite a bit of anticipation - about how it would be to seduce Daniel together with Ingvar. After our dinner the everyday life caught up with us again and when we drove back I needed to talk about my emotional state in our house.

“Daniel we must talk. I can no longer stay in the house by myself. Every time when you are gone I have panic attacks and I am afraid that the kidnappers would come back. I can spend the day away from the house as long as I can and then only come home when you are there – I can cope with it. But what do I do when you are on a business trip again? Can’t we move to somewhere else?” Daniel thought about it.

“The company won’t grant me another move. For that we won’t be in the country long enough. Can’t you try to talk about your fears with a therapist? Perhaps that angst will go away again?” I never had thought about such a possibility. I pondered the idea. I didn’t like the imagination to lie on a couch and to talk about my most inner thoughts and emotions. Should I ever have the chance one day to perhaps finish my studies then I would need to commit to some training therapy. That would still be early enough.

“When do you have to leave again?” I asked Daniel. Should he stay home until our move to Switzerland I could bypass those days. I had to work with Irene anyway for two or three days a week. The remaining days I would be spending with shopping. That would also make things easier for the FBI people observing me.

“Next week I’ll fly to New York but only for three days,” Daniel tried to appease me. I stopped breathing. Three nights in the house all by myself? Impossible.

“That won’t work”, I said. “If you are gone for only one night I will go bonkers. I guarantee you that.”

“Perhaps you should check into a hotel?” His suggestion brought me to think. I had an idea.

“How about finding an arrangement such as the one you had with Jan last year?”

“Do you want to go back to Germany and move in with Jan?”

“That would hardly work. It means I need to go to Hamburg but Jan only works nights and then I would be alone again.” I still had ongoing but rare contact with Jan and therefore I knew about his daily routines.

“And in Cologne it is too dangerous for me.” It clicked in my head.

“What about Bruce? He really likes me and you too. Then nothing could happen.” Daniel pondered my suggestion for a while. I noticed from his facial expression that he had difficulties imagining that. Then there was another thing I didn’t understand. He had no problems to ‘surrender’ me to Jan or Ingvar. With Bruce he had quite some problems.

“Let’s sleep on it. Perhaps we can think of another solution.”

The next day started as usual. I packed some items into a large shoulder bag and together with Daniel I fled the house and went to a café until I could go and see Irene. I was allowed to work until lunchtime. My friend didn’t devote one word to yesterday’s FBI questioning. She was as amiable as always and I felt comfortable being close to her.

I had lunch by myself in a simple restaurant on Main Street. An omelet and two cups of coffee were enough for me. I enjoyed the sun, the soft music in the background and felt as good as I hadn’t for a long time. I think I had seen the worst. Nobody was still interested in Robert’s demise and if I had problems with the justice system again I would have my attorney by my side in no time.

Then I dialed Bruce’s phone number. My husband had not yet commented my proposal but Bruce was on my calling list anyway. While the phone was ringing I watched the traffic on the streets through my sun glasses. I spotted a white sports car on the opposite side of the six lane road. The side windows were tainted so that I could not see anything inside. The car had been parked there when I sat down for lunch. So far nobody had gotten out of the car. Bruce did not pick up the phone. I couldn’t make out one single black car on the entire street. Has the FBI changed to white sports cars now? My lower body started to spread warning signals. I called Irene.

“Is the FBI surveillance team now using white Japanese sports cars?” I inquired after a short ‘hello’.

“Not that I know of. Why do you ask? Is something not right?” I told her briefly about the vehicle and that I couldn’t recognize any black car with FBI agents.  Irene promised to call me back. I ordered some more juice. My little Chevy was parked one block down the street in a parking lot. I was afraid that I might run straight into my kidnapper’s arms on my way to my car. There were only occasional pedestrians and drivers wouldn’t really notice anything when Soto and his accomplice acted clever enough. Therefore I remained seated like I was frozen in place. When I recognized Irene’s number on the display I quickly picked up.

“The FBI discontinued the surveillance. They do not expect you being still in any danger. I am really pissed off, I might tell you.” Her voice gave away that she was indeed enraged.

“Tell me about that vehicle. Do you think it sits there because of you?” I describe the car for her and told her that I was certain that I was being watched.

“I will call that guy from the FBI once more. It just can’t be that they let you run around all by yourself.” She hung up without waiting for my answer. Five minutes later a police cruiser rolled slowly down the opposite road side. It stopped right beside the white sports car and thus blocked it in. Other vehicles were parked in front and behind it. Two officers got out of the patrol car. One of them positioned himself sideways behind the automobile while the other officer knocked on the driver’s side window. Nothing moved.

Then everything happened with lightning speed. Suddenly the cop at the driver’s door reached for his gun as the white sports car shot back some distance knocking down the cop who was standing there and ramming the pickup truck parked behind it. Even before the first officer could pull out his gun the vehicle leaped forwards again and drove over the curb onto the sidewalk, accelerated and raced away. It didn’t make it far.

The unhurt police officer had meanwhile managed to pull out his gun and fired several times after the fleeing vehicle. I saw how the rear window burst, then the car slowed down and just rolled into the next intersection where it crashed into a standing automobile and then came to a standstill.

The officer who had fired the shots ran with his weapon raised to the car and ripped the door open. I could see how a motionless body tipped over to its side, the head all covered in blood. Then the scene disappeared from before my eyes.

I felt sick and my whole body was shaking. There was incredible chaos. The hurt officer rolled around the street, screaming, from a distance sirens wailed coming closer quickly. The unhurt officer yelled at bystanders who wanted to get closer to the runaway vehicle. Minutes later the entire street was filled with police cars, several ambulances and fire trucks.

I decided that it was time for me to retreat. Should Soto be waiting for me somewhere he needed to make his way through a bunch of cops that cordoned off the street with yellow-black police tape. At the parking lot I asked one of the officers to let me leave the cordoned off zone where I had been trapped. My little Chevy sat under a palm tree in the hot fall sun and it promised me a bit of security. Then I called Irene and stammering I gave her a short account of what had happened while I was driving. She was shocked and promised to call back the moment she received more info from police.

The more distance I put between me and the shooting scene the calmer I became. The policeman was hurt. That was bad and I felt sorry for him. Hopefully he would fully recover. But this time it was not my fault. After all he was somehow lucky enough because if he had been standing directly behind the sports car he probably would have been squashed.

The man who was on the lookout for me was probably dead. Strangely enough I felt no compassion. Rather satisfaction.

‘You must not think that way. That was a human being and he has a right to live’
I scolded my conscience.

‘I am also a human being and I have also a right to live. That bastard wanted to kill me’
another voice replied defiantly. I preferred that version. Then my emotions changed. Angst gave way and I felt euphoria again. It was like after Robert’s death. One of my enemies had been eliminated and this awareness created the euphoria. On the inside I cheered - though I was aware that this was a perverted attitude.

I thought the most plausible thing to do was to keep my rendezvous with Pete. He wouldn’t forgive me yet another time if I stood him up again. And as long as I was in a state of euphoria I had enough courage to do what I had planned to do. Namely right now I needed a man who would take me into his arms and fuck my brains out of my head. An excessive lust rose in me and blended in with my euphoria.

Beside that it seemed that my enemies had left their observation posts. If Soto or one of his accomplices had been close by then they certainly had made off. I watched the cars in the rear view mirror. None of them behaved conspicuously or stayed behind me for a longer period of time. Just in case I drove a few rounds around several blocks. In the side streets I was partially by myself.