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I just knew.
Some people are simply born evil.
“So, what has all of that got to do with tonight?” Klein regards me, his pencil floating in midair, ready for my words to take off.
“As I said, he stayed with us for just over a year, then I didn’t see him for years until a few months ago.” Gianni is watching intently, his face hovering in the darkness. “I was working at a café where the owner, my boss, was recently married. It turned out she’d married Carl. Although he wasn’t calling himself Carl, he was calling himself Richard.” Gianni straightens, his mind trying to work faster than my explanation.
“Okay, so, this Carl guy marries your boss. What does that have to do with tonight?”
“I didn’t know my boss was married to Carl. She always called him Richard. But he came to the café one day after work, and I realized who he was. It was clear from the start he was hiding his childhood from her. It was obvious with the change of name. She knew nothing of him being in foster care. And the day at the café, he made it clear he didn’t want her to know.”
“How did he make it clear?”
“I…” I begin, but I don’t know how to put it into words. Carl has this way of looking at you like he’s peeling your skin off your face, and you know you shouldn’t say anything because if you do, he’ll rip the whole thing off. “There was an incident while he was in our care. It will be on your system.” I stare at Klein, hoping he won’t make me tell him everything. I don’t want Gianni to know what happened, and it will be easier for me if Klein does his homework. “I knew Carl wouldn’t want his new wife to know about his past. So, I didn’t say anything. I pretended I’d never met him.”
“Okay, then what?”
“A few days later, I bumped into him in a bar. He asked to speak to me outside. When we got outside, he told me he did not want Cora to know about his past. I told him there was no need to panic and I wouldn’t tell Cora. He was very insistent she shouldn’t find out about him having been in foster care. I didn’t know one of Cora’s friends saw us outside the bar together. They took a photo and sent it to her. She confronted Carl, who told her I’d approached him in the bar and made a pass at him. She believed him, so she sacked me, but not without having it out with me in the café before I left.” Klein scratches his chin with the end of the pencil.
“So, he turned up here tonight for what exactly?”
“Cora has been to the coffee shop. She threatened me to stay away from Richard. She thinks I’ve been pestering him. I’m not sure why she thinks I’m pursuing him. I can only guess it has caused a rift between them, and maybe he’s going out a lot and not telling her where he is.”
“So, she thinks he’s with you?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. But he came here tonight to make sure I said nothing to Cora. He was threatening me with the knife when Lewis came outside to see what was going on.”
“It’s a bit much? A knife to make sure you don’t tell his wife about his past?” I stare at Klein, holding his eyes as if there’s an invisible force between us.
“You don’t know Carl Hardaker like I do.” He holds my gaze for several seconds before dropping it to write something down.
“You’ll have to come to the station first thing tomorrow and fill out a statement. Maybe then you can tell us a little more about Mr. Hardaker. What did you say the wife’s name was?”
“Cora. Cora Grant.”
“Okay, that’s all for now, Miss Daniels.” Klein turns his back to me, already focused on his next task.
Gianni heard it all.
I sit in a heavy daze. A numbness has settled in, making me feel tired. Voices mingle, and words dissolve into the swirling inside my head, where everything appears to be dancing before my eyes. I want this night to end, yet the thought of laying my head upon my pillow in a darkened room only makes me shudder, knowing Lewis’s face will return. My name on his lips will reverberate in my ears, and Lewis’s pale, deathly face is now tattooed on my inner eyelids. Will I ever sleep again?
A woman climbs into the back of the ambulance with an ease that only comes with practice. I struggle to focus on her face. I’ve seen her somewhere before, but my head is so light now I can’t quite place her.
She prods me, straps things to my arms, listens through a stethoscope, and flashes lights in my eyes. Her face never changes. Her eyes study me as her hands continue to gather evidence from me. What’s she looking for? Is she checking I’m alive? Is she analyzing me to see if I am telling the truth about what happened? Or is she here to do my hair and nails? Now I come to think of it, she bears a resemblance to my hairdresser. Is that where I’ve seen her before? Has my hairdresser decided on a career change?
I give my head a little shake. Surely, this isn’t right? None of this makes any sense, but my body makes little sense, and I just want to sleep. Why won’t these people let me sleep? The woman continues to fuss with me, her interest in me seeming unnatural. Klein is back, hovering by the ambulance’s back doors with an unamused look he must save for such occasions. He has another officer with him, a round man in uniform rather than one of the white suits all the other people are wearing.
“I want Miss Daniels taken to the hospital,” Klein instructs the uniformed officer.
“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” I object.
Klein stares at me, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve sustained a head injury. You need medical attention.”
“I’m fine,” I insist.
Klein waits before responding, “Fine. Have it your way.” He turns back to the officer. “Take Miss Daniels to the station to collect further evidence from her,” Klein instructs. “I want samples from her fingernails, hair, and clothing and get Henderson to take a statement. Then I want her back in the morning after I’ve had a chance to review the other incident. Get Marsden to pull the files for me.” As I picture Klein reading the file, a kaleidoscope of colors dance before my eyes. What will he make of it all? Will it change his opinion of me?
“Yes, sir,” the round-faced man replies before steering me out of the ambulance. Klein marches off toward the coffee shop as Piero arrives and approaches him with a feverish face, armed with a thousand questions.
