Inconsolable (Love Triumphs 2)

“Oh,” said Gabriella, which was damn, bugger and I lose any way you wanted to cut it. “I thought you should know we have a problem with your homeless man.”

“What kind of a problem?” Foley asked. Whatever it was, it would be Gabriella trying to point score. The whole resident action thing had calmed down after the competing petitions. There was more community sympathy for the homeless currently as a result of The Courier’s feature stories, and Walter Lam had moved on to the issue of greater policing of speed limits in school zones, functionally a police matter, not a council one.

Gabriella smiled, and that should’ve been a tip-off, but Foley missed its significance so when the woman said, “He’s been arrested,” the first thing she said was, “Walter?”

“Your homeless man. He’s been arrested for assault.”

Hugh

said, “What happened?”

All Foley heard was buzzing in her ears. It simply wasn’t possible.

“He attacked a woman in Marks Park, the last day of the sculpture walk, during that time Foley was supposed to have moved him on. It’s a dreadful thing. I feel like the council has a moral resp—”

Foley stood. “Stop talking, Gabriella. Stop.” She needed to think. Her phone chimed again. Nat. That would be why she wanted a call back. “The Courier already have this.”

“How would you know that?” Gabrielle said, then appealing to Hugh. “She can’t possibly know that? I just told her.”

Hugh balled up the paper bag his sandwich came in. “Yes she can. What do you know, and forget the editorial, just the facts.”

Gabriella huffed. “Police community relations called. They thought we might want a heads-up, given how famous the cliff clinger—”

“Don’t call him that.” Every hair on Foley’s body bristled. They couldn’t possibly have arrested him. They wouldn’t know where to find him. “His name is Patrick Drum.”

“Oh, he has a name to go with his arrest record. I’ll phone that through.”

Shit. She should’ve kept that to herself because there was no way Drum would hurt someone. “What does assault mean?”

“It’s not a trick charge. He beat a woman, sexually assaulted her, probably raped her. I don’t have the exact details.”

But Nat would. “I need to make a call.”

Gabriella held her place in the doorway. “Who are you calling?”

“Gab,” said Hugh, a warning. “Is that all we know?”

“That’s quite enough, isn’t it? I need to brief Roger. You can expect Walter Lam to be right on this.”

Hugh grunted. “You do know I remember there’d be no Walter Lam if it wasn’t for you, so you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending he’s an immaculate conception. There’s no need to go anywhere near Roger yet. Foley, go do what you need to do.”

She stepped around a red-faced Gabriella and out into the corridor, dialling Nat’s number as she made for the street front, somewhere she could have a private conversation.

Nat answered and Foley said. “What’s he charged with?”

“Hey, what? How do you know? What do you know?”

“Cop PR called Gabriella with a heads-up.”

Nat sighed, a blast of static on the call. “It’s bad.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Where is he, Foley?”

“You mean they don’t have him?”

“No. It’s an arrest warrant. They’ve been to the cave but he’s not there. I’m at the station now waiting for them to bring him in.”