Medea's Curse (36 page)

‘Nothing new, I’m afraid.’

Natalie took a breath. ‘Did you find a rug in Rick’s car?’

‘Rug?’

‘It was cold. Chloe would have been wrapped up while she was alive. Which probably
means her body still is. But maybe the rug or whatever was left in the car and Allison
and Rick removed it.’

There was a long pause. ‘Is this to do with those files you asked for?’

‘In a round-about way.’ It wasn’t a complete lie.

There was another long silence. ‘Okay,’ Damian said.

‘Damian?’

‘Yes?’

‘Can you find out if there are any toys missing?’ The toys that Tiphanie had told
her were Chloe’s favourites.

‘I’ll let you know.’

There were new shadows in the laneway, dark places that seemed more ominous than
before. Natalie parked her bike and, cricket bat in hand, searched a fifty metre
radius. Nothing. Shutting the door, she pulled the chain across and rattled it to
test just how strong it felt. Fair. It would hold up long enough for her to hear
someone forcing the door.

She threw her bag on the sofa and walked around the kitchen and living area. The
alarm hadn’t gone off but she couldn’t reassure herself he hadn’t found a way in.
Had anything been moved? Was there a trace of anyone other than her? His fingerprint
on half-closed curtains—she had
left them like that hadn’t she? —or the drawer that
wasn’t quite closed? She steadied her breathing and picked up her laptop. Time to
take her mind off her stalker.

She began with a Google search of Japanese cartoon characters. It took her a couple
of spelling variations to find the series Ai Yori Aoshi, first out when Jessie would
have been eight. As described, Aoi Sakuruba was sweet and loyal, with short black
hair just like Jessie’s—minus the dye job. It was Kaoru, the love interest, who grabbed
Natalie’s attention; because his parents never married, his life was difficult—particularly
in taking over his father’s empire. Her fantasies about her stepbrother Jay saving
her as a young teenager?

Pulling out the USB she decided not to spend too much time thinking about the ethics.
Jessie had given it to her and all but asked her to look before changing her mind.
Declan wouldn’t be happy, but looking at Jessie’s files wasn’t a reportable offence.
What she did with them might be.

Beverley had copied a dozen folders over. Natalie moved them onto her computer. She
did a search for video files. Family Album had several. She clicked onto one. Knowing
what she was looking at, Natalie could make out the younger Jessie. She was skinny
with short, dark messy hair. There was a look of innocence captured in one or two
of the clips—in one she was holding her baby sister; in the other, opening Christmas
presents. An older man, presumably her father, and a woman with too much makeup were
watching. Jay must have been filming. She checked the other clips. No Jay, no Kyle.

The School Assignments folder didn’t look promising as a title, but she opened it
anyway. Two videos.

The first was of a teenager with light-coloured hair. He was a willowy adolescent
with a few pimples and a winning,
slightly self-conscious smile, telling the camera
about who were the hot chicks at school. No glasses, but it could have been Jay.
If so he had filled out a lot since then. Jay’s features but more Kyle’s frame. He
named a few teachers and made it clear his testosterone was dominating his thoughts
about them. Nothing explicit. He cupped his groin at one point but it was within
the range of normal adolescent behaviour. It was only at the very end that Natalie’s
stomach churned. He winked at the camera and said: ‘Of course I get to do anything
I like to my very own chick.’

Was he referring to Jessie? Had her father confiscated the computer because of what
he feared was on it rather than because it incriminated him?

The next clip was twenty minutes long. Camera steady, fixed, she figured, on a tripod.
The two actors moved out of frame and there was no alteration in the angle or focal
length. She forced herself to watch every minute of it, then went to the bathroom
and threw up.

Afterwards she washed her medication down with a full glass of bourbon and slept,
and managed to struggle through the next day somehow. That night, neither her stomach
nor her head were thinking bourbon was a good option. Natalie knew she couldn’t keep
the feelings buried. She had to think about the video, and eventually talk about
it. Maybe with Declan, but it was Liam she wanted to ring. Perhaps because he had
seen these things before. Maybe just because she needed a hug.

But before she could show Liam the video, she had to talk to Jessie. She found herself
back in the Tiphanie–Amber dilemma. What she had seen needed to be in the hands of
the police—whether or not Jessie was currently being abused,
and whether or not she
agreed. But the current or ongoing risks weren’t clear. Ethically Natalie needed
to maintain confidentiality, unless Jessie gave permission or there was a current
risk of harm to others.

A wave of nausea gripped her stomach and she looked at the bourbon.
No.
She needed
a clear head. Whatever shit she had been through in her past was nothing like what
Jessie had been subjected to. She would be eternally grateful to Eoin not only for
sharing his soul but ensuring that when they lost their virginity together it had
been a normal human experience. Awkward and funny and finally a triumphant soaring
into the adult world. Even Eoin’s death, followed by the year in rehab and all the
tensions with her mother, hadn’t changed that. The adversity had made her stronger.
And she needed that strength now, for Jessie.

Tiphanie and Georgia popped into her head again. Why? Natalie closed her eyes and
pictured the girl in the video. Jessie. Sweet, giggling Jessie, who initially had
been cooperative. A pre-teen, no more than twelve, breasts little more than tiny
buds, with sexual feelings that were starting to awaken. Sometimes girls of that
age thought they knew it all, hid their vulnerability. Jessie’s innocence had been
on full display. She was still essentially a child who had needed her father to tell
her she was beautiful when she went on her first date, who needed to swoon over a
safe, pretty boy at a distance, who needed time to be emotionally ready for the physical
eventuality.

The physical acts themselves were nothing two adults wouldn’t do in a consensual
relationship. Penetrative vaginal sex, anal and oral sex. But the sinews in the perpetrators
arm were taut as he forced Jessie’s head over his cock and the fear in her eyes raw.
Her terror when he entered her from
behind, contrasted with his apparent immense
satisfaction and disregard for the young girl, was stark.

Natalie started dry retching. Then she did something she hadn’t done since her eighteenth
birthday. She cried.

She didn’t check herself. There was no one to know. Then she watched the video again.
But when she finally went to bed, she still hadn’t been able to put to rest a niggling
sense that there was something she had missed.

Chapter 31

‘I know you think I shouldn’t be looking for truth,’ said Natalie. ‘But right now
I’m pretty sure that at least two people and maybe more are lying to me.’

‘You do work in forensic,’ Declan pointed out. ‘Doesn’t everyone say they’re innocent?’

‘Exactly.’ Natalie was wandering around his office. ‘Simplest explanations are usually
best, right?’ she added, more to herself.

‘If you’re talking about behaviour, then yes. People are complicated but their actions
are usually self-serving and rarely thought through. And most of them are not good
liars.’

Which was why they got caught: poorly equipped people making bad choices. Psychopaths,
who manipulated and lied as a matter of course, had a chance of getting away with
it. Liam would say it was better than incarcerating the innocent.

Natalie paused to look at a new bust Declan had put up on the mantelpiece; she wasn’t
sure who it was and didn’t want to show her ignorance. She caught her reflection
in the mirror. Could she lie too? Well enough to fool Declan and
the police? If Declan
worked out what she was doing, would he put it down to her bipolar or to poor judgment?
He’d have to report her to the Medical Board either way.

Declan’s forehead wrinkled into deep crevices as he watched her. She had no doubt
he understood what drove her—some of the time; she was also pretty sure he had no
idea what she was capable of.

Declan spoke to the back of her head. ‘If you’re trying to pick the lies, think about
motive. People, even if they’re not psychopaths, look after themselves.’

‘Which means everyone is lying.’ Natalie’s laugh felt harsh in her throat.

‘Then bring in your personality assessment. The psychopaths will lie more convincingly:
remember they routinely pass lie detector tests. But they’ll lie over even small
things, which is where you may pick them up. Why they are late, how they got the
stain on their shirt. Whether they masturbate.’

Declan laughed and added, ‘If they say they don’t you can be sure they’re lying.’

Natalie was conscious that Declan had made his quip calculatedly but couldn’t manage
the groan that would have been her normal reaction.

Declan continued. ‘In the person without frank psychopathy, emotions will ultimately
show through. Particularly if you catch them unawares on the big things.’ Travis.

She thought of some of the harder interviews she had done. The trouble wasn’t that
there were no emotions on display, it was deciding whether the emotions were a genuine
response to the patient’s situation or an attempt to manipulate the therapist. Georgia
and Paul. Amber and
Travis. Tiphanie and Travis. All with complex motivations, some
but not all self-serving.

‘What if I decide they are lying? I have a responsibility to my patients, of course.
But don’t I have a responsibility to society as well?’

‘If you’re called to court, yes. Then you give your truth, whole truth and nothing
but the truth. To the best of your professional judgment. Making it clear that’s
all it is.’

In Amber’s case there had been no chance to tell the whole truth.

‘Is this the missing child case?’

‘Among others.’

Declan removed his reading glasses. ‘Tiphanie’s charges haven’t been dropped?’

‘No,’ said Natalie.

‘Even though Travis probably did it?’

‘Murdered his child? Yes.’ She thought about the wet clothes, the messy kitchen,
Amber’s scalded face. Oh yes, he murdered his child all right. Then she froze.
Travis.
She stared at Declan. ‘You know.’

‘Of course I do,’ said Declan. ‘I had hoped you would tell me.’

‘I…I haven’t interviewed Travis, just Tiphanie.’

‘You knew you were too close to this case, too much baggage from Amber.’

‘Yes, but that also gave me motivation to get it right this time.’

‘Motivation and bias.’

‘He did it!’

‘It doesn’t matter, Natalie.’ Declan’s voice was hard. ‘I have to be able to trust
you, and your patients have to know you are balanced.’

‘I didn’t lie, but I’m sorry.’ She looked involuntarily at her handbag, where her
USB stick was waiting for her to decide what to do about it.

‘You’re too close to this, Natalie.’

Even if he was right, it was too late now. Her mind was more focused. No matter what
Declan said. Sometimes confidentiality wasn’t the highest value.

The prison guards were more annoying than usual. She recognised one of them as Jen
from the earlier visit. Natalie steeled herself and vowed to smile and not lose her
temper. Yes, she should have rung. No, she wasn’t Hannah Peterson’s shrink. She wanted
to see her anyway. Natalie waited.

It was nearly two hours before she sat down with Hannah in the empty visitors’ area.

‘Is there a problem with Jessie?’ Hannah looked worried, lighting up a cigarette.

‘No, well no more than usual,’ said Natalie. ‘We’re talking about those nightmares
though.’

Hannah nodded. ‘I figured from last time I spoke with Jessie. You saw whatever that
arsehole filmed?’

Natalie hesitated. ‘I’d like her to give it to the police.’

Hannah looked at her grimly. ‘I know people who might deal with him better.’

Tempting. Maybe the backup plan.

‘That isn’t why I’m here.’

Hannah drew on her cigarette.

‘Remember I asked you about the paedophile network. The one that used pink bunny
rabbits to entice the children?’

Hannah crossed her arms, dropping ash over her jeans.

‘I know you know something.’ Natalie had been manic
when she’d last seen Hannah;
she hoped she had read her right. ‘I need you to tell me.’

‘Why?’

Natalie chose her words carefully. ‘Because more than one person’s life is involved
here.’

‘It won’t hurt Jessie?’

‘The paedophile ring is going to be busted anyway. I don’t know what videos are out
there, exactly what will come out or how it will affect her.’ Natalie paused. ‘Whatever
happens, I can help her work through it.’

Hannah nodded and leaned forward. ‘I won’t stand up in court and say this.’

‘That’s okay. This is just for me.’

‘One of the other women that was here. Her man was into little girls.’

Natalie nodded. It was one of several hypotheses she needed to test. ‘The pink bunny
rabbit?’

‘She mentioned it. That’s all.’

‘Did he have the pink rabbits,’ asked Natalie, ‘or were they just like…logos. In
videos?’

Hannah frowned. ‘Not sure. Never asked really. This sick shit isn’t my thing. Men
aren’t my thing.’

Natalie nodded, deep in thought. ‘Hannah,’ she said slowly, ‘in Jessie’s nightmares,
did she ever mention a rabbit?’

‘Jessie never like stuffed toys. She was into Japanese cartoons.’ Hannah flicked
her cigarette end towards the wardens. They weren’t looking.