Medea's Curse (23 page)

It was a busy night. Benny and Maggie at the bar had no time for more than a cursory
greeting and Vince just glared. Liam had obviously arrived.

‘Just for the record,’ said Natalie, accepting the Corona Liam thrust at her, ‘I
think you’re a shit. I mean regarding Tiphanie, not your wife, okay?’

‘If the murder charge works, will you still say that?’

‘It’s unethical.’

‘It’s where the evidence lies.’

‘I hope Damian gets in there quickly. She’s coughed up that Travis took Chloe in
the car that night.’

Liam brightened. ‘You’ve spoken to McBride? He should be able to come down on Travis’s
mates.’

‘This was a regular thing, Travis’s paternal contribution to childcare. Chloe, who
would go off to sleep in the car. Damian’s going to talk to Tiphanie’s family as
well.’

‘Except this time.’

‘Except this time,’ agreed Natalie.

‘Probably wanted her mum, wouldn’t shut up. Maybe before they get to the mate’s house,
he hits her. Maybe doesn’t know how much damage he’s done. Maybe she dies then, maybe
later. He gets rid of the body and convinces Tiphanie it was her fault for not being
a good enough mother to settle her own child.’

‘If you say so. I thought it was the cops’ job to put the story together.’

‘Sure.’ Liam accepted the reproach without the expected enmity. He even sounded convincing
when he added, ‘Thanks. That’s great.’

‘Now I have a question for you,’ said Natalie. Liam flinched. Jesus, he was still
worried about Lauren. ‘Look, you stupid dick. I’ll say this once and once only. I
wouldn’t tell your wife I’d been fucking you if my life depended on it. With her
reputation, she could probably make sure I never saw a patient again. But you know
what? That isn’t why I wouldn’t tell her. There’s no way I would let her think I
made do with her leftovers.’

She couldn’t tell what Liam was thinking, and was annoyed to find she cared.

‘Which, incidentally, is not how I see it,’ said Natalie, ‘but I know she would.
The fact that you and I have screwed each other has nothing to do with her as far
as I’m concerned. Maybe it does for you. It probably should, but that’s your problem,
not mine.’

She took a breath. ‘So can we do business now?’

Liam opened his hands out towards her.

‘You told me you were investigating a paedophile ring, right?’

Liam nodded.

‘Tell me more.’ Natalie’s second Corona had arrived and she focused on the bite of
the lime for a moment.

Liam drained his pint. ‘I can’t. Professional ethics I think you called it?’

‘Bullshit. You want me to help? I need to know more.’

Liam looked at her. She could see he was weighing up what the best strategy was and
whether she had anything to actually tell him.

‘You first.’

Natalie shook her head. ‘Forget it then.’

‘All right, but I can’t tell you much.’

Natalie grinned at him. He thought he was so fucking tough and smart but at the end
of the day he was still a private school boy with a trophy car.

‘There is a large-scale operation,’ said Liam, putting on that supercilious air that
undoubtedly made Carol in the office wet and probably bored Lauren senseless.

‘It involves a number of players, some big ones. Hence the secrecy.’

Which told her fuck all. ‘The bunny rabbit?’

‘In the videos, or at least some of them. Pink. The little girls are…often clutching
them.’

Natalie finished her drink and Liam went to the bar.

‘You must have more than that,’ said Natalie when he returned. ‘Every little girl
has got a pink bunny rabbit at Easter.’

‘We thought we had the guy behind it.’ Liam’s tone was measured and he wasn’t looking
at her. ‘We couldn’t nail him.’

‘You still think it’s the same person?’

Liam nodded, looking at her hard. ‘Don’t even think of
asking. I can’t and won’t
tell you his name.’

‘Tell me about him then. Must be more to him than a storage unit full of stuffed
toys.’

‘He’s smart, keeps his nose clean. No steady girlfriend but has a regular job, people
he works with think he’s average but maybe a bit remote. Goes to Friday drinks, doesn’t
get drunk or act inappropriately.’

‘Well that really narrows the field. Not.’ But it told her what she needed to know:
it wasn’t Paul.

‘He has a tattoo.’

‘So do I.’

‘This one may be a motif that is used by members of the ring.’

A motif? He didn’t seriously believe he was going to get away with that did he? ‘What
sort of motif, Liam? Where? On their penises?’

Liam sighed. ‘A signature on the videos and chat rooms.’

‘The signature and motif? What does it look like?’

Liam looked at her and she could see him deliberating. He was asking himself whether
he could trust her, which of course he couldn’t. Or shouldn’t. He wanted to, though.
‘Guess.’

‘A rabbit.’

‘See, I didn’t tell you. A kind of Playboy bunny. Two actually.’ Liam spread out
a serviette and drew ears and a head, but with a superimposed circle, presumably
the tail. In the second half-overlapping bunny the circle was an oval. Male and female?
There was a split second where Natalie was sure she recognised it, but just as quickly
as the picture flashed into her mind it disappeared. If she had seen it before, she
had no idea where.

Chapter 20

Natalie nearly didn’t answer the call. It was a blocked number and there was a chance
it might be Liam. She was still uncertain about how she was feeling about him. Avoiding
him was easier. Her mania had given her the chance to end the affair; maybe she should
go with that. It wasn’t as if there was any future in it.

But it could be about Tiphanie. Nothing seemed to have happened in the last week,
with Tiphanie still sitting in Yarra Bend.

She hit the answer key.

‘I wanted you to know the latest,’ a male voice said. No Irish accent, just reason
and calm. Damian.

‘Yes?’

‘We’re stuck.’ Damian sounded apologetic. ‘The evidence is slanted towards Tiphanie
acting alone. Travis is denying he took Chloe and his car is clean. For the moment
we can’t touch the charges.’ There was a pause. ‘I want to get the bastard as much
as you, but we have nothing.’

Georgia was back to her middle-class groomed look.

‘I met Virginia last week,’ said Natalie after Georgia had
settled into the armchair.

Georgia moved around in the chair and crossed her legs, smile meeting Natalie’s gaze.
‘No cards this week.’

Was Georgia avoiding talking about her aunt, or were the cards—and Paul—overwhelming
everything else? Natalie went with the latter. ‘What do you make of that?’

Georgia shrugged. ‘I suppose his way of saying our relationship is over.’ There was
an evenness to the delivery, smile never wavering, that made Natalie wonder if Georgia
had practised in front of the mirror. Her hands gave her away; as Natalie waited,
she fidgeted with her blazer, and smoothed out her dress. Not dissociation, more
like disbelief. Unwilling to accept that Paul was not coming back.

‘He isn’t allowed to see me anyway.’

‘And that worries you?’

‘He isn’t
allowed.
’ Georgia folded her arms and averted her eyes. ‘I know you think
I don’t care about losing my children. But Virginia used to hit me if I cried. She
couldn’t tolerate weakness. So I learned to smile instead.’ She appeared to force
herself to look at Natalie. ‘It doesn’t mean I don’t feel. Okay, not so much about
the pregnancy I lost, I concede that. But my girls? Jonah? They were my flesh and
blood. For a while I had three, three pieces of me that just…’ She bit her lip and
looked out the window. ‘They just slipped through my fingers.’

In Georgia’s quavering words Natalie visualised the children, hazy images melting
and disappearing into the oblivion of her patient’s carefully segregated memories.

‘You spoke last week,’ said Natalie after a moment, ‘about how close Paul was to
you and your girls. Did that ever worry you? His closeness to his daughters?’

‘Surely every mother worries?’

No. Their eyes met, and Georgia was first to look away. Natalie wondered if what
she was seeing was the denial breaking down; the denial that her husband controlled
her and abused her daughters. So many of her patients had, as children, told their
mothers of the abuse and not been believed. Had Georgia at least subconsciously been
aware of it and killed her children to save them from Paul, rather than confronting
him? Or was her motive that she wanted Paul to herself?

‘What sort of father was he?’

‘Wonderful.’

‘Tell me more about that,’ said Natalie when the silence had stretched to nearly
a minute.

‘He used to give the girls their baths when he wasn’t away. Olivia loved it when
he poured water over them both.’

‘Just the girls? What about Jonah?’

‘I had to bathe him; he was difficult.’

‘So Paul was
in
the bath with Olivia?’

‘Oh yes, it was easier that way.’

There was distance in Georgia’s voice as she reminisced about her girls, but something
approached disdain when talking about Jonah. Because he was a boy? Because he was
difficult, and made her feel rejected rather than adored? Or because of Paul’s attitude?

She wondered about Georgia’s mention of Virginia, right after she had appeared to
ignore the fact of the visit. Maybe Georgia’s real mother would be able to provide
something more. Her colleague had tracked down the address and Natalie had arranged
to see her on the Friday afternoon of the conference.

The next blocked call was Lucia Cortini ringing on Amber’s behalf.

‘Amber has her hearing tomorrow,’ said Lucia. ‘What the fuck is going on with Tiphanie?’

‘I’m trying to keep her here until she gets bail,’ said Natalie. ‘Tell Amber I’m
pushing.’

Lucia started coughing up what sounded like a lifetime of tar and hung up.

Tiphanie herself was in shock, repeating that she’d never harm Chloe and that she
didn’t want to talk to the police.

‘How can she be so stupid?’ Natalie asked Declan that evening. ‘I don’t trust her
not to change her story again; how does she expect the police to believe her? She
may just be adding a perjury charge to the list.’

‘Maybe it’s as well that the police have taken their time,’ said Declan. ‘Stories,
as we know, seldom reveal themselves in their entirety in the first telling.’

‘I’ve spoken to the police. They’re stuck. They don’t think there’s any more to find.
The neighbours heard screams earlier in the day but Tiphanie says it was play and
either is possible.’

Declan, sipping his wine, waited for her to continue.

‘They searched the car and found nothing. Signs of Chloe, but that was to be expected.
Tiphanie was probably bombed out when her partner came home. And the next morning?’
She shrugged. ‘That was when she was intimidated and I guess took a shitload of Valium
to block out any thoughts at all.’

‘Her partner…must be very persuasive. Violent?’

‘Yes. No doubt Tiphanie was under’—Natalie stopped herself saying Travis’s name just
in time—‘her partner’s influence, but I’m equally certain she wanted and loved this
baby.’

‘Not enough to protect her. A bit like Amber.’ Declan looked at her intently.

Natalie willed her gaze to remain steady. Had Declan dropped Amber’s name intentionally?
There had only been that one article in each of the main city papers. Surely he wouldn’t
have taken any note of it, particularly given Amber wasn’t mentioned by name in the
Age
? She couldn’t see Declan as a
Herald-Sun
reader. He might have googled it. But
Declan was upfront about his technophobia.

‘Tiphanie didn’t have a great maternal role model,’ she said.

‘It’s hard to give affection to a child when you’re empty inside, though some people
manage it.’

‘She tried, I think,’ said Natalie. ‘Seems like her grandmother might have been a
bright light in her childhood. Father’s mother. He’s okay too—just needs to grow
a backbone.’

Natalie took a sip of wine and changed tack. ‘Georgia actually showed emotion this
week. I even felt like it might have been real.’

‘Grief for her three dead children?’

‘Possibly. Even probably; but it’s complicated. It’s also about losing Paul. I’m
not sure which is stronger.’

‘It’s good that you are questioning her reactions, and your own.’

‘Because I recognise something in her? A conflict I’ve faced myself?’

Declan smiled; the smile he saved for his star student, accompanied by a twinkle
in his eyes. ‘Now what would that be do you think?’

Natalie took a deep breath. Just sometimes, supervision seemed very like the therapy
she had had years earlier and
ceased, according to Declan, prematurely. ‘As a teenager
I found myself facing a choice. Conform—at least in most ways—or live on the outer.
In sorting out the answer I found a “me” I could live with.’

‘And Georgia?’

‘Georgia had the same choice, but was driven by the need to be accepted by men. Work
gives me who I am and fills my, if you like, narcissistic needs. Georgia is wholly
dependent on her relationships to tell her who she is.’

‘So where does her relationship with her children versus her husband fit?’

‘Paul, I think, was who centred her. But did he manipulate that for his own needs?
I don’t know. It’s possible. He could have pulled the strings and sent her off into
dissociative episodes. Georgia loved her children when she could see them as extensions
of herself. But when her children had their own needs, she would see it as rejection,
right?’

Declan nodded. ‘The narcissist needs to think of himself—or in this case herself—as
one with the child, unique and special. Anything that interferes with that perception
creates a risk that reality will come crashing down around them. They have buried
feelings of chaos and rejection from their own childhood that threaten to bubble
to the surface.’