Blood Work (14 page)

“I don’t want
to upset you with this, but I’ve been employed to find Matthew
Hawkins.”

Jessica
faltered in her attention to Ivan for a moment only. She squared
her shoulders and kept rubbing. “What do you want to know about
him?”

“Ultimately,
where he is now. But I’m working my way up to that. He’s a very
reclusive guy. At the moment, I’m following any lead I can
get.”

The young
woman nodded. “And I’m your best lead?”

“At the
moment. Do you mind talking about what happened?”

“Of course I
do.” She let Ivan’s hand go and went to a sink to wash the cream
off her own. “But I will.”

“Thank
you.”

Jessica sat in
one of the tall, swizzle chairs in front of the mirrors. Erin sat
beside her and Ivan perched on the bench, idly running his fingers
over the tricks of Jessica’s trade.

“I don’t know
where he is now. I don’t care where he is, so long as he’s not
within a hundred meter radius of me.”

“Restraining
order?”

She nodded.
“But I don’t think it matters anymore. He was… different during the
trial. It hurt him, what he did to me. I was too young to
understand it back then, but I do now. He’s not a violent man.”

Erin licked
her lips. “I saw the footage from Kirby’s. I beg to differ.”

“He had a
reason.”

“Really?” Ivan
asked. “It must be a good one.”

Jessica looked
at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “It was. Give me a
moment and I’ll tell you.”

Erin and Ivan
sat quietly while Jessica prepared herself. It took a couple of
minutes, her eyes closed and breathing deeply. Then she began
speaking.

“I was sixteen
years old. Just got my learner’s permit and I wanted to take my
dad’s car out. He wouldn’t let me go without him and he didn’t want
to go anywhere. Too drunk, as usual. I took it when he fell asleep.
I was heading down to the coast to see some friends, thinking I was
being a very good driver by staying in the middle lane and doing
the speed limit. But I had the stereo turned right up and I wasn’t
checking my mirrors at all. I didn’t see or hear the ambulance
coming up behind me.”

Guts twisting,
Erin touched Jessica’s hands. “There was an accident?”

Jessica
nodded. “All the other cars got out of the lane. It was only when
the red and blue lights began flashing around me that I realised
what was going on. I saw the ambulance, realised it couldn’t get
past me and knew I had to get out of its way.” She shivered. “I
panicked. I went right, then for some reason thought I should be in
the left lane. The ambulance clipped the back of my car. I spun
into the soft barrier on the left side of the road. The ambulance
went into the cement barrier in the middle of the road.”

“Dear God.”
Ivan clutched his hands together.

“I came out of
it with a few bruises and whiplash. I didn’t know what happened in
the ambulance until a week later. There was a mother and daughter
in back. The little girl had a heart murmur or something. She’d
stopped breathing and the paramedic had just got her breathing on
her own again when the accident happened. He brought her back to
life just so she could die.”

Jessica sagged
in her chair, shivering. Erin stood beside her, hugged her
close.

“It’s okay,”
she whispered. “It’s all right.” But she wondered if it was.

“The driver of
the ambulance died on impact. The mother died of a broken neck and
the daughter had a heart attack and died. The other paramedic, the
one who’d saved the girl’s life, was thrown from the back and
through the windscreen.”

“But he
survived.”

“Yeah. Had a
shattered knee and I don’t know how many other broken bones.”

“Matthew
Hawkins.”

The young
woman sniffed loudly and grabbed up a handful of tissues. Erin let
her go and sat down again. Jessica wiped her face and revealed that
she wasn’t hiding anything with makeup. Her nose and cheeks blazed
with emotion, tears glinting on her lashes.

“So, that was
his reason. I got a rap on the knuckles and he got six weeks in
traction and a life time of pain.”

Erin didn’t
want to excuse him for what he’d done, but it was getting hard to
hate him for it. “That was how long before the incident at
Kirby’s?”

“About
eighteen months. I was so sick because of what I’d done, I couldn’t
leave the house. I went to some psychiatrist about it and I can’t
remember what he called it.”

“Agoraphobia,”
Ivan said. “Fear of open spaces.”

Jessica
nodded. “I’m over it now, obviously. I lost my licence but I don’t
care. I won’t drive ever again.”

“The night at
Kirby’s,” Erin prompted.

“It was the
first time my friends had convinced me to go out with them. I drank
way too much. You know, to deal with it all. I suppose I was pretty
spastic by the time we reached Kirby’s.” She absently touched her
nose. “I didn’t feel any pain while he was punching me. I could
barely register what was happening.”

“You
recognised him, though.”

“Yeah. My dad
had taken me to see him in hospital. Said it was an object lesson.
I’ll never forget seeing him in that bed, strapped up like some
violent animal or piece of art so precious it was too fragile to be
moved. He was in an induced coma, never saw me. After that was when
I decided I couldn’t face the world anymore.”

“But he
recognised you at the club,” Ivan said softly.

“At the trial
when they asked him how he knew it was me, he said he just
knew.”

A shiver went
down Erin’s back.

Jessica stood
up, fixed her hair and asked, “Is that all you needed?”

“Yes, thank
you. I’m sorry we brought up so many bad memories. But you have
helped us.”

“What I said
will help you find him?”

Erin smiled.
“It helps me know him, and that helps me find him.”

They were at
the door when Jessica stopped them.

“Ms
McRea?”

“Yes?”

Jessica hugged
herself. “When you find him, tell him I’m sorry.”

“I will.
Goodbye.”

Ivan was quiet
until they were back out into the hard sunlight and putting on
their sunglasses.

“Wow, that was
intense.”

Erin sighed.
“Glad you came?”

“I got the
name of a new moisturiser at least.”

“And I got one
step closer to our mysterious Matthew Hawkins.”

“Really? I
don’t see how.”

“Think about
it, Ivan. He had a reason for what he did. It doesn’t excuse him,
but at least it means he’s got nothing to hide.”

Ivan thought
about that for a while. “But he must have something else to hide,
because he’s hiding.”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t
think that’s a big problem.”

“Big but not
insurmountable. I know him a bit better now. And I know he used to
be a paramedic.” Her phone rang and she answered with her usual
business voice.

“Erin, it’s
Gavin. How you doing? Did you get that fax?”

“I got it,
thanks. You did fantastic.”

“If you think
that’s fantastic, wait till you hear this. I found your man.”

Erin nearly
dropped the phone. “What? How? Where is he?”

Gavin
chuckled. “One at a time. When I came on shift this morning, I got
a call from the Redcliffe station, passing on a report that came in
from a doctor at their local hospital. Seems this guy was beaten
absolutely senseless by a gang of thugs and managed to drag himself
to the hospital. His ID labelled him as Matthew Hawkins, the same
name as in that arrest report I faxed over.”

Erin grabbed
Ivan’s hand in excitement. “He’s in the hospital?”

“Admitted at
four a.m. this morning.”

“I can’t
believe this. I expected a longer chase, and here he just drops
into my lap. You’re a saint, Gav.”

She fended off
more offers for dinner and felt shitty for it. He had, after all,
just finished this case for her. After she hung up, she quickly
told Ivan and they all but ran back to the office and piled into
her car. Within an hour, they were standing in the lobby of the
hospital, defeated once again and waiting while the admitting
doctor was paged.

Dr Nolan was
about her own age, tall and slender. He looked dead on his
feet.

“Double shift
in ED,” he said by way of an apology for his appearance.

“We won’t keep
you long. I understand you treated Matthew Hawkins this
morning.”

“Yeah. Though
I’m thinking I should have just left him where we found him.” He
waved to the front doors. “He passes out from pain on our front
doorstep and then wonders why he should be admitted to
hospital.”

“How bad were
his injuries if he could just get up and walk out?”

“Oh, he didn’t
walk on his own. He had help. Called in some friends and they
carted him off. Through a fully staffed ED, mind you. Some people
are going to get sent for eye tests.” Nolan wandered over to a
chair and all but fell into it. “He was in rough shape. Needed a
load of stitches and suffered tissue damage to a reconstructed
knee. The man shouldn’t have been able to stand up without passing
out, even considering the amount of morphine he was on. But
somehow, he was vertical when his buddy hauled him out of
here.”

“You reported
the attack to the police but didn’t tell them he went AWOL?” Ivan
asked.

“By the time
anyone realised, it was several hours later, and we had a rush on.
Apparently some restaurant wasn’t too picky about the seafood it
served last night.” He sniffed the front of his shirt. “God, I
smell like puke.”

Erin sighed.
“Did you get an address for Mr Hawkins?”

“Yeah, it
should be on his chart. Let me check.” He hauled himself up and
went to the front desk. In a moment, he was back with a Post-It
note. “Here you go. Hope you have better luck keeping hold of him
than I did.” A strange look passed over his face. “For all that
he’s an annoying bastard, I liked him. Loads of guts. When you find
him, tell him thanks for the shopping list.”

Ivan pulled
out a notepad and wrote that down.

“Dr Nolan, do
you have security cameras in ED?” Maybe she could get a picture of
this guy.

“Nope.”

“In the car
park?”

“Let me
check.” He went back to the desk and returned fairly quickly. “Just
the one out the back, in the ED car park.”

“Can we check
the footage? Maybe his friend parked somewhere we can see a number
plate.”

Nolan sighed
and trudged back to the desk.

“Seems very
put on, doesn’t he,” Ivan muttered.

“He’s just
tired.”

The doctor
waved them over and led them to an elevator. “We have to go
upstairs. The TVs for the cameras are in the admin section.”

An hour later,
Erin and Ivan left. They had a grainy black and white picture
showing a light coloured Prado and three people. One was a woman,
standing a bit back, while a man of average height and size
supported a slightly taller, slender man. No faces could be seen,
but there was a nice shot of the number plate.

“Where first?”
Ivan asked in the car. “Address or number plate searching?”

“Hey, we’ve
had some luck, let’s try the address first. Where is it?”

Ivan looked
and groaned. “All the way over in Ipswich. Man, we’ll never get
lunch.”

“We’ll get
drive-thru. Chin up, young person. This is what detecting is all
about. Just think, if you ever get to be an actor, you could play a
private dick.”

Ivan did not
once run out of ‘private dick’ jokes on the way to Ipswich.

I woke up around noon. There were
some niggles in my back, but that was probably just from sleeping
sitting up. Otherwise, pain free, baby. Mercy had done it.

Speaking of
the Mercinator…

She wasn’t in
her room. I had a mild panic, then went back to my room and looked
under the bed. There was a Mercy sized ball pressed up against the
wall at the head of the bed, as far from any edges where light
might squeeze in as she could get. I got a blanket all the same and
covered her completely. She was zonked. The healing had taken it
out of her. Crazy kid had obviously stayed to the very last minute
and was trapped in my room.

There was a
message on the phone from Roberts, asking if I was okay. The guy
talked tough, but he was a softy. I called him back.

“Oh, you’re
alive. Well, okay. Thanks. Bye.”

“Hang on, man.
I want to thank you again. I really did appreciate it. I owe you
one.”

“You owe me
two suits and some dignity. Gale was not impressed. She really
thinks I need better taste in friends.”

I wandered out
onto the deck and threw myself onto a banana lounge. “How long you
been seeing her? You haven’t mentioned her.”

My neighbour
Charles was out on his deck, in similar position, reading. I waved
and he sort of returned it and then concentrated on his book. My
neighbours think I’m strange. That’s probably mostly my fault
because, well, I am strange. Living a very nocturnal life, no
discernible job, rooming with a hot girl who looked much younger
than me and seemed a bit special needs (which she was, Charles just
didn’t know what sort of special needs). But, part of it is
Charles’ fault as well. He’s the sort of nosey neighbour who can
justify any level of snooping with the words ‘community service’.
What also doesn’t help is their proximity. It makes them
unintentional targets when I’m practicing my psychic skills. I know
things about my neighbours no one outside of their bedroom should
know (Charles claims there is no problem, but his wife, Sue, keeps
hinting about that nasal delivery technology) and in some
back-brain, primitive instinctual way, Charles suspects that I
know. It makes for a weird combination of offence and defence
whenever we have the misfortune of meeting.