Heller's Punishment (33 page)

In the witness
box, Trent came across as measured and unflappable, answering
questions with intelligence and a hint of humour when it seemed
appropriate. Even the judge chuckled at some self-deprecating
comment he made at one point. In the recesses, Gloria demonstrated
her unwavering enthusiasm in support for him, regaling me at length
with why she wasn’t impressed with the arguments from the
plaintiff. When Trent finally stepped down from the stand, he gave
a discreet sigh of relief and flashed me a quick smile and a
wink.

Gloria sat up
excitedly, clutching my arm. “Did you see that? He winked at me! He
must know I’m his biggest fan. Wait till I tell my husband! He’ll
be so jealous.”

I smiled at
her. It was incredible how a celebrity can make someone’s day just
by noticing them. Incredible how we can construct entire
relationships with them in our heads, when they’re not even the
slightest bit aware of our existence. It would be strange to have
people thinking that they know you intimately because they see you
on television every night, when they’ve never even met you. All
these thoughts jumbled around in my head as I sat in the public
seats, studying the man down front who was sitting quietly,
listening intently, jotting down a note or two in his neat
writing.

I couldn’t stop
watching him, and then it struck me how much I was starting to like
him. When I first met him months ago, I’d thought he was a sleaze,
coming on to me boldly, but now I’d seen a more likeable and
serious side to him, and wondered which was the real Trent. Maybe
they both were and his bold persona was his performer’s face?

The rest of the
day dragged by with other witnesses for the defence and at last the
court was dismissed. I had a pounding headache and a sore butt from
sitting down all day. I promised to see Gloria again tomorrow and
waved her goodbye, waiting in the aisle for Trent to finish talking
to his lawyers about the next day. I had my back to the courtroom
door, impolitely trying to lip read what Trent and his lawyers were
saying to each other, when the door was flung back violently,
smashing against the wall. Gavin came charging in, his face red and
streaked with tears.

It all happened
in seconds. I stood directly in his path but I’m not sure he even
noticed me as he went gunning for Trent, his eyes firmly fixed on
his target. I half-turned towards him and had just enough time to
raise my arms defensively before he bowled me over, knocking me
flying backwards. He tripped over my flailing feet and tumbled down
the steps of the aisle with me, clutching my arms. We landed hard
at the bottom, him half on top of me, crushing all the air from my
lungs. Looking back on it later, I realised how lucky I was that he
didn’t break my back, because he was a bloody huge man.

We both lay
there for a moment, groaning at the impact, when the room burst
into flurried activity. The two
Heller’s
men, closely
followed by court security stomped down the stairs, ungently
hauling him off me. The court security took over, it being their
jurisdiction, ushering him out of the courthouse, giving him a
warning. I remained on the floor, refusing offers of help, needing
to get my breath back, before gingerly sitting up. A concerned
Trent assisted me to my feet, where I stretched and rubbed my back
in pain.

“Geez, that
hurt,” I groaned.

“Tilly, you
stopped him from attacking me!” Trent said, admiration in his
voice.

The look I shot
him was full of disbelief. “Trent, I was in his way. He tripped
over me.”

He didn’t hear
me. “I turned around and you were there breaking his momentum, your
arms up ready to take him on. God, you’re so brave! You just threw
yourself in his way. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I tried to tell
him the truth again, but he wasn’t listening. In fact, nobody
except me had seen what had really happened and they all thought
I’d tackled the man and brought him to the ground. No matter how
many times I tried to explain how events had
really
unfolded, they thought I was merely being modest. I eventually gave
up with a mental shrug. Let them think I was Wonder Woman, if
that’s what they wanted.

One person who
didn’t rush to congratulate me was Beyrer, scorn and scepticism
stamped on his face. He believed my story of ineptitude coming to
the rescue. I wondered what his problem was? Misogynist or
Tilly-hater? Either option didn’t bode well for our future work
relationship.

I hoped Dubov’s
father recovered and he returned the next day.

Chapter
22

That night I
began to feel the effects of my assisted tumble down the stairs,
and despite a long, hot bath, some painkillers and my best acting
efforts, I couldn’t disguise my sore muscles. Trent ordered some
home-delivered food for us, even though I bravely offered to cook.
He went off to take a quick shower while I sat on the balcony,
hoping the calming view would soothe my screaming nerve ends. My
phone rang, and I knew who it would be immediately.

“I’m okay, just
a little sore,” I told him, not bothering with a greeting or
explanation. Heller would have heard all about it five seconds
after the men left us.

“Matilda, you
shouldn’t be taking on big men. That’s why I send my men along. Let
them do something now and again, for once. That’s why I pay
them.”

“Heller,” I
complained. “It wasn’t like that.” And I told him the truth about
what really happened and my attempts to convince everyone. “See, I
wasn’t reckless. I was just in the wrong spot at the wrong time.
But it worked out well in the end, because I guess I ultimately did
stop him attacking Trent.” I paused. “I don’t like the new guy with
us, Beyrer. He seems twitchy. I have a really bad feeling about
him.”

“I’ll check him
out with Clive,” he promised, but he sounded a little distracted.
“Hold on,” he told me and muffled the mouthpiece with his hand as
he spoke to someone else. Then back to me. “Is Mr Dawson
appreciative of your sacrifice today?”

I laughed. “He
thinks I’m a superhero.”

His sexy low
laugh. “We all do, my sweet. How do you think tomorrow will
go?”

“The
plaintiff’s been warned by the court security. He’ll be turfed out
if he misbehaves again. I think we’ll leave it up to them to
reinforce that. They’re territorial.”

“Is Mr Dawson
behaving himself?”

“He’s a
complete gentleman. I’m really starting to like him, Heller. I
helped him with his work today and he offered me a job as his
research assistant.” Utter silence on the other end. “I said
no!”

Still silence
from him, and when he spoke he didn’t sound pleased. “Good. Take
care, Matilda.”

“Bye.”

I had no sooner
hung up then Trent came out freshly showered and in time to answer
the door to delicious Thai food. He produced a bottle of excellent
white wine and we sat on the balcony and ate in the balmy evening
air.

“When all else
fails to kill pain, whether emotional or physical, get stuck into
the grog,” he declared, pouring me a large glass. We clinked our
glasses together.

“It went well
for you today,” I commented, sipping my wine.

“Yes, it did. I
wouldn’t be surprised if the judge wants to end the case
tomorrow.”

“You won’t need
me any more then.”

“I’ve paid for
a week. I want you to stay around, Tilly. You can do some other
work for me.”

“That’s
unusual, Trent. Most people can’t wait to see the back of me.”

“I want to get
my money’s worth.”

“Businessmen!”
I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s always about the money.”

“Mostly,” he
said, smiling nicely.

“Are you going
to work tonight?” I asked.

“No, let’s do
something fun. There’s an alternative cinema down the road. Do you
want to see an arty but incomprehensible foreign movie?”

Oh God! More
hours sitting on my bum. “I don’t think you should go out in public
until the trial is over, Trent.”

He thought
about it for a moment. “I guess. Okay, well it’s going to have to
be an evening of my guilty secret pleasure.”

I was worried,
mind crowding with lewd and illegal activities, until he removed a
small plastic guitar from a cupboard and turned on the TV. I
laughed. His secret vice was a simulated guitar game on his
console.

“You tragic,” I
teased, but we had a fun evening trying to beat each other.

He was much
better than me, having evidently and somewhat sadly, practiced
quite a lot. He hit the correct notes frequently, showing his
exceptionally wanky air guitar moves that had me laughing my head
off. But I gave him a run for his money even with my sore muscles,
and he was impressed with my rock star potential even though I’d
been playing on easy mode.

“You have good
reflexes,” he commented. “Like today, when you managed to bring
down that man even though it all happened so fast. I’d barely even
heard a commotion when I looked up and you had already tackled
him.”

“Trent –” I
started, embarrassed by the undeserved praise.

“I know, I
know,” he held his hands up in supplication. “It makes you
uncomfortable when you receive praise. I noticed that today, Tilly.
You didn’t want us to gush over your heroics at all. You’re very
modest.”

“But Trent –” I
tried again desperately, but he cut me off.

“That’s so
refreshing. Especially in my industry where everyone is always
trying to steal each other’s credit. I respect you so much for
that.”

He came over to
me and cupped my cheek in his palm, his eyes full of admiration. He
leaned forward to kiss me gently on the other cheek.
Oh God, I’m
such a fraud
, I thought, even as I enjoyed the close contact
with him.

“Trent, it’s
just my job.”

“You’re a
wonderful woman.”

“I’m not,
really,” I insisted, but he wasn’t listening.

We parted ways
for the night and I tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable
position, my muscles hurting. In the early hours, I slipped with
exhaustion into a light sleep that provided no refreshment. I woke
up groggy and tired. Not a good start to the day. I dosed myself
with a brisk but painful run on the treadmill, a cold shower and
coffee, but knew the day ahead was going to be a trial. I only
hoped that Gavin was able to control his emotions this time.

Trent came out
of his room, rested, well-dressed and handsome. I made every effort
to brighten up so he wouldn’t notice anything remiss in my
services. Over breakfast, he talked excitedly about his hopes for a
speedy resolution to the trial today, so that he could go back to
work. The expected knock on the door interrupted him and I sprang
up to answer. To my incredible disappointment, it was Ozanne and
Beyrer again. I really didn’t want to see Beyrer. His mood hadn’t
improved overnight, but mine hadn’t either. We eyeballed each
other, neither of us mistaking our relationship for anything than
what it was – mutually antagonistic.

“Let’s go,
people,” Trent demanded, breezing past us all. I brought up the
rear as we boarded the
Heller’s
vehicle again. Trent worked
as we drove, but didn’t ask for any help this time, busily
labouring over his documentation himself. I took the opportunity to
have a quick nap. When the vehicle stopped I woke up guiltily,
hoping I hadn’t snored, drooled or given away any other sign I
hadn’t been on full alert. Heller wouldn’t be happy to learn that
I’d been sleeping on the job. Happily for me though, nobody seemed
to notice.

We arrived with
time to spare and Trent and I trooped into the courtroom. Under
strict instructions from his lawyer, Gavin was on his best
behaviour and his supporters also tried to contain their emotion. I
gave Gloria a friendly smile and eased my sore muscles into the
seat she’d saved for me, not looking forward to another long
session of immobility. I sincerely hoped the trial would have a
speedy conclusion so I didn’t have to sit down all day. But
unbelievably there were still the lengthy closing speeches from
each side to survive, and after the second hour, my eyelids grew
heavy with boredom. I needed a very large and very strong coffee to
keep me going, but there was no prospect of it in the near
future.

In the
afternoon, the judge wrapped the whole case up, summarising the
arguments of each side and providing comments that made everyone in
the court feel as though Trent had won this battle hands down. We
were all ordered to return tomorrow for the judgement.

We left the
court complex safely, enduring nothing worse than evil looks. When
we returned to Trent’s apartment, he went straight to work in his
office and I indulged in a much-needed relaxing bath. Trent worked
for the rest of the night, apologising again for doing so, but I
waved his apologies aside, trying to hide a yawn, only too glad to
escape to bed early.

I felt restored
the next day and ready for action when the men turned up.
Damn
,
Beyrer again. This morning he seemed particularly
twitchy, his eyes not staying in one place for long, his body
tightly sprung. I began to wonder if he was on something. Surely
not – Heller would
never
tolerate a drugged-up employee. I
didn’t like to bad mouth a colleague to the boss, but I would have
to talk to Heller about this man when the job was over. I hoped
he’d found the time to discuss Beyrer with Clive. The fact that I
hadn’t heard any more about the matter from Heller only made me
feel as though I was over-reacting to my own instinctive dislike of
the man.

When we
approached the court complex, the crowd of Gavin’s supporters had
grown larger. I hoped they behaved, because there were only three
of us to protect Trent and there were about eighty people baying
for him, calling out that he was a murderer and had blood on his
hands. His jaw hardened with tension from the taunting. We rushed
him up the stairs to the courthouse, not even letting him speak to
the waiting media.