Birthdays of a Princess (23 page)

Chapter 50

The two men walked out to the parking lot. Macintosh had parked his
car all the way down the private road, just before it entered the round-about
leading to Fraser Drive. Dr. Eaton had his on a reserved space right in front
of the main entrance. They stopped right there to say goodbye.

Macintosh fiddled to get his car key from his pocket before shaking
the psychiatrist’s hand.

Dr. Eaton noticed the detective’s confusion. The conversation with
Tiara had obviously unsettled him. He opened the passenger door of his car,
dropped his briefcase on the seat, closed the door again and turned to Macintosh.

“Tiara is quite articulate, isn’t she?”

“Surprisingly so. She doesn’t sound like a normal fifteen year old.”
Macintosh smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t use words like normal when I’m talking
to a psychiatrist, should I? What I mean is—”

“I know what you mean.”

“Uhm. Yes, she is a lot more mature than most girls her age I’ve
ever come across. I hadn’t expected that, not after finding out how secluded
her childhood had been, with the little education she got, and after all she’s
had to endure.”

Dr. Eaton was leaning against his car, a clear signal that he was
willing to continue with this conversation.

“By the way, it was very considerate of you not to mention that we’ve
seen the footage with the mask.”

“I’m glad she let it go.”

“It would have embarrassed her. She has a tendency to ignore what
she can’t cope with.”

“I guess we can discuss this case now, you and me, right?”

“My assessment has already been completed and delivered to the
judge. MCS Homicide Unit should have a copy by now—”

“It’s been on my desk this morning, and I’ve read it.”

“Good. So we can talk freely. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s beyond any doubt that Tiara has been molested as a child. I’m
talking seriously, repeatedly molested from a very young age on, right?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Has she told you anything about who the molesters could be?”

Dr. Eaton placed his words carefully. “She tends to forget names in
an effort to depersonalize people. So far, she has only mentioned the name of her
dance instructor, Tony, but as far as she is concerned, he was only close to
her family circle and not involved in her exploitation. She rejects this
notion, but we don’t know if that clears him of any suspicion.”

“You bet it doesn’t. We’ll certainly check him out.”

“Then there’s this elusive Purple Shadow, and you heard yourself that
Tiara can’t even identify the sex of this person.”

Macintosh’s eyes grew dark. “Yes, I found that very interesting. A
shame she can’t give us more information on that creep.”

“I suspect him or her to be one of the ring leaders of whatever
pedophile operation was exploiting Tiara.”

“I agree. I’ll let the Sexual Offense Squad in Texas know about this
Purple Shadow. It’s not much to go on, but it might mean something to them. They
in turn will keep me informed, we’re working closely with them. Nowadays there
are no borders when it comes to internet crimes, and everything points toward
Tiara having been a star in one of those revolting networks. There are several
videos of her being promoted as Princess Tia.” Macintosh shook his head in
disgust. “I tell you, I’m glad I’m close to retirement. You’ve seen the video
clip too. Stuff like that starts to seriously freak me out. I only hope we can
catch those bastards. It’s a crying shame that the aunt is not around anymore,
I’d have loved to personally put the cuffs on her.”

“Tiara was genuinely stunned to hear about her aunt’s death, but she’s
shown little emotional reaction. One would think after three years her mother
would have heard about it and told her. But obviously Tiara didn’t know, and wasn’t
sorry.”

Macintosh scratched his chin. God, first thing when he retired, he
would grow a beard, just like the doc, except his wouldn’t look so perfectly
groomed.

“It did strike me a bit odd too. Tiara seemed surprised alright, but
not exactly shocked. I mean, she didn’t ask what had happened and how it had
happened and so on. It was as if the thought amused her. After what this woman
has subjected her to, I’d think she’d be really curious how she died, kind of
relieved, you know what I mean. But she was blasé, as if this was a good joke,
entertainment, and not closure.”

He wasn’t sure if he had expressed his observation right until Dr.
Eaton confirmed it.

“Exactly. Tiara acted as if she doesn’t believe that it’s over. Closure
takes time. I hope she’ll continue a dialog with me, so I can help her along
that road.”

“She sure got a tough deal so far.” Macintosh extended his hand.
“She’ll need a friend when this is over.”

Dr. Eaton shook it. “More than one. I have a feeling she trusts you
too. It may be good if you contact her again. Don’t wait until she asks for
you. Her social skills are seriously underdeveloped and she may feel she can
only ask for your visit if she has another breakthrough in her protective
memory shield.”

“I will.”

Macintosh turned to go to his car, and Dr. Eaton walked around his
to get to the driver side. He opened the door, hesitated and called after
Macintosh.

“Detective. One more thing.”

Macintosh turned back and took a few steps toward the psychiatrist
again. “Yes?”

“Did you get hold of Tiara’s computer?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

“She does. Not at her mother’s place, though. She stored it at her
friend’s place, at Connie’s.”

“Connie?”

“A young woman working the Eastside. She let Tiara stay at her place
when things got too difficult at home. You may want to look into that.”

“You bet. Thanks, Doc.” Macintosh hesitated, then he asked: “What do
you think will happen to her?”

“That will depend very much on you.”

“On me?”

“Yes. You see, from earliest childhood on, Tiara has learned to
consciously suppress emotional responses because she can’t deal with them.
Whatever triggered the attack at the coffee shop has been so traumatic that it
temporarily disabled her complete memory system. Her memory has opened up
again; she already recalls much of her childhood, considering the short period
she has allowed herself to do so, but so far she refuses to address the
identity of the victim or the issue of her attack. It appears that she doesn’t
want to deal with it, for whatever reasons, I do not want to speculate there.
Her memory will come back, but possibly not in time for her court case. She
simply doesn’t appear to understand how important it is to shed light onto what
triggered her.”

“What are you saying? The court will find her guilty? A young girl
with such a horrific background?”

“If her action at Starbucks continues to look like an unprovoked act
of violence, the judge will have no choice but to have her committed. If on the
other hand a clear motive emerges, especially one that points toward her
upbringing, it becomes explainable and treatable and the judge will take that
into consideration, and she’ll receive psychiatric treatment instead of a jail
sentence. In other words, she either remembers and explains herself soon, or
you figure it out for her.”

“I’m not sure if I can do this in time.”

“You better,” Dr. Eaton said as he got into his car. “I’ve done what
I could from my side. It’s up to you now. If you want to help her, you better
find out what motive she had for the attack!”

Chapter
51

Macintosh rushed back into his office, took Harding aside and
quickly summarized his conversation with Tiara, making a point to mention the
puzzling fact that the Purple Shadow might be a woman. He also mentioned Dr.
Eaton’s comment about a young prostitute named Connie.

“Interesting,” Harding said. “I’ll let Josh know about the Purple
Shadow possibly being a female, it might help his investigation. Let’s look
into the Connie connection. I’ll spread the word on the Eastside. We have a few
contacts there, but it might be difficult to get anybody talking. You know how
protective this community is. And just ‘Connie’ isn’t much to go on. Would be
nice to get hold of Tiara’s computer, though. Now listen to this: they’ve
picked up Antonio Alvares. They’re interrogating him as we speak.”

“That’s excellent!”

“Josh said, he is taping the interview and will send it to us. The
marvels of modern technology! We were even contemplating a video live stream,
but that’s legally not possible. But we’ll get a tape of the whole interview as
soon as they have wrapped it up.”

“That’ll go on for hours.”

Harding grinned. “Don’t you suffer from insomnia? It’ll be better
than any of the crap on late night TV.”

Macintosh grinned back. “As if you’d let me watch that tape all by
myself.”

“No way. I’ll sit right next to you and hold your hand, in case you
get scared. I have a hunch that this interview will give us all the answers we
need, if we don’t squeeze enough out of Melissa Brown to piece it together.”

“Is she here?”

“Room two, three doors down from her mother.”

“Perfect. Get your laptop.”

“Wait. Before we go in, listen to Josh’s briefing on the Alvares
guy.” He glanced at his notes to support his memory. “Antonio and his sister
Inez apparently are the last in line of an old Hispanic family with
aristocratic roots. Unfortunately, their parents mismanaged their estate, or
maybe simply had bad luck, and lost the family fortune. Which didn’t matter
much to their offspring, as Antonio was kicked out at an early age, after his
parents discovered his inclination toward ballet dancing. His much older
sister, who must have been his biggest fan, left the run-down family ranch with
him and somehow managed to put him through his dance education. Apparently, he
showed great promise until an accident shattered his leg and his career.”

“Spoilt rich kid with a sense of entitlement, poisoned by artistic
frustration—that’s a lethal cocktail. He’d do anything to get back into the
good life. Those bastards have no morals.”

“And Tiara had the bad luck to get involved.”

“It wasn’t bad luck,” Macintosh said. “It was bad people.”

Chapter 52

Melissa Brown knew something was wrong as soon as Detective Harding
had called, asking her to come to the police station. Riding the bus to
Graveley Street, she had left several messages on her mother’s mobile, trying
not to let her growing desperation seep into her voice.

Melissa looked around the interview room. Was Louise in a similar
room, maybe as close as next door? She struggled out of her seat and walked to
the door, but then decided against leaving. She would have to face the
detectives eventually.

Waves of panic swept over her and she had to hold on to the table to
steady herself. She managed to slide back into her seat, surrounded by the
ghosts she had kept at bay for so long. Tony, Gracie and her weird friends,
Mike even. How could she have thought to be rid of them?

As so many times before, her thoughts drifted back to that final
week in Texas.

It had been a slow, boring day, like so many of them. Dry heat
compressed life until it came to a virtual stand-still. Everything moved in
slow motion, if at all. Melissa had spent most of the afternoon on the sofa,
finally understanding why southern countries often were poorer and less
industrious than northern nations. It was a matter of conserving energy. A
matter of movement, or better, of non-movement.

Gracie and Tiara were out, and when they eventually came back, Tiara
would walk straight past her, without giving her the time of day, and disappear
into her room. Gracie would fuss a little over her, bring her some food and
medication—nowadays Tiara needed a lot of that, she always had something wrong
with her—and would then disappear herself.

On this afternoon however, the atmosphere changed as soon as they
came in. Tiara had been crying, her cheeks and eyes were swollen and red.
Melissa got up, shaken and confused. Gracie glared at her and said “we need to
talk”, in a voice that didn’t allow any resistance, and escorted Tiara to her
room. Tiara had often come back from appointments in an agitated state, but she
had never looked that distressed. Melissa refused to be pushed aside and came
in the room behind Gracie who put Tiara on her bed, making shooing sounds.

Tiara started to cry again. “Mommy, please, help me.”

“What is it, princess? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Melissa looked at Gracie, confused and suspicious. “Do what?”

“He hurt me.”

“Who?”

Gracie pushed herself between Melissa and Tiara’s bed.

“Stop it now, mija. No point in dwelling on it. The pills will work
soon. They’ll take the pain away. Rest now, I’ll talk to your mother. We’ll do
something about it, cross my heart, big promise. Rest now, we’ll be back
shortly. You’re safe here.”

Indicating that it was best to talk out of Tiara’s earshot, she
dragged Melissa by the sleeve out of Tiara’s bedroom.

“What’s she talking about?” Melissa asked alarmed. “Who hurt her?”

“You don’t need to know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Care of
what
? This is my daughter. What’s wrong with her? I
want to know!”

Once they were back in the living room, Gracie pushed her down on
the sofa.

“No need to get your knickers in a twist. It’s nothing I can’t
handle. Don’t worry about it.”

“Damn it, Gracie, tell me now or I go back in and talk to Tiara!”

 Gracie positioned herself in front of Melissa, took a deep breath
and then lunged at her like a wild cat, hissing and spitting.

“Did you see your daughter? Did you see how she has cried her eyes
out? Do you have any idea what this poor girl has gone through?”

Melissa sat up straight and shook her head like a dummy, left to
right to left to right. What was all this about?

 “Tony, your precious Tony—and don’t think for one second I didn’t
know about your sordid little affair with him—has done this to her!”

She understood right away what Gracie meant. “Tony wouldn’t touch
Tiara. Never. He’d never do that.”

Gracie laughed at her. “Really? You think he’s interested in a fat
slob like you? Don’t flatter yourself. He’s smoke-screened you, that’s all
there’s to it. Do you honestly think he’d touch you if he wouldn’t be rewarded
for his bravery? Look at you, you can’t even see your feet when standing up.
Your sagging breasts and your giant gut are blocking the view.”

Melissa wanted to cover her ears. Her arms were like lead; her whole
body immobile. She had to stay put and listen.

“God, that’s enough to make my poor brother turn in his grave. To
open our house to a creep like Tony and let him molest Miguel’s own daughter just
to satisfy your own cravings for a good fuck. You’re disgusting. It’s your
fault, entirely your fault! I never wanted that creep back in the house after I’d
fired him in the first place. You insisted that we hire him again. Even after I
got rid of him the second time, you let him carry on with your daughter right
under your nose. Sweet Jesus in Heaven, how could you!”

Every fiber of her being fought the accusations Gracie was hurling
at her, but she couldn’t react. All she could do was think: no way.

“No way,” she muttered. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t.”

“You bet your fat ass he did. I caught him. This afternoon.”

Melissa’s voice was a mere whisper. “How? Where?”

“At the studio. Usually the door is locked until the photo session
is over, to make sure nobody interrupts. This afternoon, I came back sooner
than expected to pick her up. In his sick excitement the bastard must have
forgotten to lock the door. God knows how often this has happened before. To
think I might have been sitting outside while this pervert … oh, no, it’s just
too disgusting.”

“But … but what’s Tony doing at the studio?”

“He bought it a few years ago. I told you so. You never listen to me.
He’s been doing the pictures.”

“No. I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you like, you stupid cow.”

“He doesn’t have any money. He couldn’t have bought the studio.”

Gracie started to laugh again. This time, it sounded amused. “Well,
he had the twenty-thousand you stole from me. He didn’t spend that much on your
week-long love fest in the cabin at the lake.”

That was the point when Melissa’s resistance cracked. Gracie could
know about her romantic hideout only from Tony himself. If she knew that,
everything else she said was true too. Tony had used her to get to Tiara. The
shame of it was excruciating, unbearable. Her whole world collapsed around her.
To feel anything was too painful, so she felt nothing, not for herself, not for
her daughter.

When Gracie left the house, she went back into Tiara’s room. She
looked at her face, buried in white bedding with rainbow colored dots on it.
Melissa waited for the hollowness inside her to fill with compassion, with
pity, with something. It stayed empty, with just a layer of shame and repulsion
covering its walls.

Repulsion!

Her daughter must have done something to encourage Tony. How else
could he get involved in something as weird as that? It couldn’t have been his
idea alone, she must have seduced him with God knows what kind of behavior.

Tiara stirred, opened her eyes. There was barely any light in them.

“Mom,” Tiara said. “He’s hurt me so bad.”

Melissa closed her ears and her heart.

“I don’t want to hear any of it. Girls your age should know what to
do. Men stop when they’re not encouraged. It’s your own fault if it went too
far.”

The dull eyes of her daughter grew wide, then closed.

“Don’t you breathe a word about it, to nobody. You hear me? Not a
word, or they all know you for the slut you are.”

With that she left the room.

 Tony had touched her daughter. They were both defiled by him.

For a while, she hated Tiara.

Melissa winced. The thoughts had come back so strong, she wanted to
vomit. Her stomach contracted, but all she managed was a silent burp.
Indigestion. That’s all that was left of Tony. If Tiara had told the police
what Tony had done to her, that would put her on the hook.

The detectives would never believe that she had not known about the
rape. Not with Tiara telling them that she had begged her for help. It had been
nearly a week before she finally got Tiara out of the house and back to Canada.
Well, that was something she should stress when the detectives accused her of
neglecting her daughter. After all, she had taken quick action to protect
Tiara. What would it have helped to expose Tony? Tiara would have been exposed
as seducing her mother’s lover, probably in a desperate effort to regain some
of her lost beauty queen status. It would have been so embarrassing. The whole
world would have laughed at her. What had Gracie called her? A fat slob.

The door of the interview room opened and there they were, the
detectives, glaring at her. She knew it, had known it all along, they despised
her. She steeled herself for the inevitable fight.

One of them, this dreadful Macintosh, seemed especially pleased to
see her so disheveled.

“So, here we are again, Melissa,” he said. “Do you know why we asked
you to come in?”

She took a deep breath. “You’ve spoken to my mother.”

“Indeed, we have. She told us what happened when she came down to
Houston to get you.” He let his words linger in the air.

“So she took the money. That’s not really a crime. At least part of
it belonged to me and Tiara. We only took what was ours anyway.”

Macintosh seemed to lose his composure, but regrouped very quickly.

“Yes, but still, your sister-in-law wouldn’t think so. Stealing her
money would make her very angry. How much was it again you took?”

“I told you, I didn’t take it. You got that wrong.” Melissa felt a
glimmer of hope. If Louise had admitted it already, she might be able to
convince the detectives that it hadn’t been her idea. “I only told Louise where
to look. I didn’t ask her to pocket it. It wasn’t much anyway. Five thousand
dollars. Please! Gracie owed me more than that. I did all the housework, the
cooking, the laundry, everything, and I never saw a cent for it.”

Macintosh leaned into her.

“And how much was it you stole from Gracie before your mother
arrived?”

“What? … I … I never …”

“Yes, you did. Louise told us about it. She told us you had been
afraid of Gracie because of that theft.”

The demons around her laughed. Now they had her. Stupid, stupid
Louise and her blabbermouth. She had always known it would come to that.

“It was twenty thousand,” she admitted. But it had been for Tony,
she added in her mind. Should she tell? Could she blame it on him? It had never
been her fault. Things had just happened. And always people made it her fault.

“Look, Melissa, we know already what happened on that day, so why not
tell us in your own words. Give us a chance to see your side of things.
Everybody sees things in a different light. It will make it easier for us to
understand.”

He was right. So she told them. It didn’t differ much from Louise’s
story, except for the one small detail Louise had omitted. Apparently, when
Louise had come to rescue Melissa and Tiara, it had been Louise who had taken
Gracie’s stash of money. Melissa had whispered to her to go back in the house
and look for it, while she was talking to Tony. Louise had found it, had quickly
grabbed it and hidden it in one of the garbage bags. Only after they had driven
away, with Tiara dozing on the backseat, had Louise told Melissa that she had
taken it. They sure could use the five thousand dollars, she argued when Melissa
got scared and worried. She had even wanted to turn the car around and return
the money, but Louise had insisted they drive on. All the way up to the border,
Melissa had been terrified that Gracie would follow them or would have them
stopped at the border.

“Why would you think that?” Macintosh asked.

“Well, Louise had stolen from Gracie. She’d think I was in on it.
She’d think we’d both be thieves, wouldn’t she?”

“Please, you didn’t really expect your sister-in-law to contact the
authorities over a relatively small amount of money. Not her.”

That’s when it hit Melissa. They knew. Not only about that pitiful
theft. They knew about the twenty thousand she had stolen before as well.
Louise told them! They must have interviewed Gracie, checking the story, and,
my God, now the detectives knew everything. Tiara. Tony. The rape. She started
to cry again.

Macintosh smiled. Produced a tissue box from nowhere and slid it
over the table. “Now there, no point in crying. Let’s start from the beginning.
Let’s go back to where you said you did everything and got paid nothing.”

She nodded.