‘Stop,’ Henry hissed into the phone. ‘I’m in the office. I’ll call you properly after work. But whatever’s going on between you and Mum, that’s between the two of you, okay? I’m not taking sides, and if all you want to do is complain about her, I don’t want to hear it. Now, I’m going back into my meeting. I’ll call youlater.’
Henry hung up. Robert closed his eyes, and put his phone down carefully on the counter. The rage inside him needed an outlet. He had to calm down. He had to think. He couldn’t think. Fucking Milo was whining and scratching at the back door to get in.
Well, that was one problem he could solve.
Robert found the dog’s lead in the laundry room. The stupid thing started turning circles when he saw it, anticipating a walk. Not this time, you little shit. Robert clicked the lead onto Milo’s collar, picked up his car keys, and lifted the dog onto the backseat. He drove six point three kilometres to the nearest dog shelter, where he stopped for just long enough to tie the dog’s lead to the railing. He had no interest in talking to the do-gooders who staffed the place, who would no doubt give him a bloody lecture on responsible dog ownership. He got back in the car and drove away without a backwards glance, feeling—for the first time in days—a little bit of happiness. No more whinging, scratching, shitting or digging. From now on his mornings at home—however many he had left—would be peaceful.
Robert arrived home and made himself a second cup of coffee. The bottle of whiskey was still on the counter from the night before. A hair of the dog would probably help with his residual headache. And of course, now he had something to celebrate. Robert added a generous measure to his coffee cup. He sat at the breakfast bar, opened his laptop, and waited.
James Dunlop joined the Zoom call at exactly eleven a.m.
‘Robert. Good to see you. Sincere apologies that I couldn’t offer you an in-person meeting today. I’m flying out to Sydney this afternoon. We do still have our appointment scheduled for next Tuesday, if that works for you?’
Robert brushed away the small talk.
‘James,’ Robert said, matching the other man’s urbane tone, but adding a touch of sarcasm. ‘Tuesday will be fine, I’m sure. But I want to know what you’re doing right now, in exchange for your vast retainer, to get Judith Lee off my back.’
James Dunlop’s face, already a mask of careful civility, took on a certain frozen quality.
‘Yes. We received your bank transfer. Thank you.’ He said it like the money was something offensive.
‘And?’
‘I have a copy of the complaint made against you by Alexis Turner. The detail of her complaint in no way matches the... uh, activities... shown in the video as you described it to me.’
‘The fake video. And I already told you that the woman in the video is not Alexis Turner.’
‘Yes. Noted. In her statement Alexis claims that you suggested that she might like to try smoking cannabis to ease her anxiety and sleeplessness.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Of course. She says that you told her you were a regular user, and that you invited her to come to your office later on that evening to smoke with you.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘Mhmm. She says that you then stood up, crossed the room, and stood behind her. That you started to massage her shoulders, and then that you let your hands drop and that you massaged her breasts, outside of her clothing.’
A sour discordant note thrummed somewhere deep inside Robert. Memories presented themselves and his mind skittered away from them. It took him a second to gather himself for a response.
‘Well, that’s all bullshit. I found out yesterday that Alexis Turner doesn’t exist. She’s not a registered student at the school. The university has no record of her at all. The phone number she gave the clinic is a fake number. She didn’t give a Medicare number. I told all of this to Judith Lee and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. If you ask me she already knew it. There’s something off about that detective.’ Robert took a breath and steadied himself. ‘I’m aware that I may sound paranoid, but please remember that I’ve been a psychologist for a long time. I know how to read people. When Judith Lee interviewed me, she wasn’t investigating a complaint. She’d made up her mindbeforeshe spoke to me. And when I told her about the fake phone number, she wasn’t interested. She’s not doing her job. It really feels like she’s just out to get me.’
Dunlop’s reaction to Robert’s statement was depressingly low key. Robert was hoping for a condemnation of Judith Lee, and a reassurance that now that Alexis Turner had turned out to be a liar, he, Dunlop, would immediately make the whole thing go away. But instead, the lawyer was matter-of-fact.
‘Yes. We have discussed this. I filed the formal complaint with Victoria Police, as you requested. The complaint would have more force if we could document the weaknesses in the case against you. Would the university give a letter to the effect that Alexis Turner is not a student there?’
Robert thought about it. He figured his chances of getting the university’s administrative staff to put their heads above the parapet were close to zero. It was amazing how fast the rats had gone scurrying in the other direction.
The silence went on too long, and James Dunlop moved on.
‘Well, what about the video? You mentioned that you’d commissioned an independent report.’
‘Yes,’ Robert said. ‘I should have the report any minute.’ He said it with more confidence than he felt. Would Vanessa hold the report back? Use it to get what she wanted in the divorce? He wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. No bloody way. He’d find someone else to look at the video if he had to.
‘Great. Well. When you have the report, send it through to my office.’
‘And what... in the meantime you do nothing?’
James was unruffled. ‘I’ve already made a formal complaint. If you want me to kill this case, we can’t go after them piecemeal. Really we should be holding everything in reserve for a possible trial, but if the complainant has disappeared, we might not even need it. The best thing you can do right now is keep your head down and wait.’
