Inconsolable (Love Triumphs 2)

Foley shook her head. “Official business.” By the skin of her teeth.

Nat tapped her on the head with her notepad. “Well, you need to officially stop looking at the accused as if you’d die for him, unless you want to become the news.”

Foley sighed. “It was shock seeing him, that’s all. What happens now?”

“They’ll question both of them.” Nat looked across at the remaining media pack milling about. “If they can make a conviction stick they’ll charge him. Don’t look so gutted, it’s not over yet.”

“Your mate Toby has Drum in a jail cell already.”

Nat grunted with annoyance. “Would you want him to blame the victim?”

“No, no. But Roger wants to know the police aren’t harassing a homeless man.”

“You need to tell Roger Drum’s lack of an address doesn’t make him innocent. You’re too close to this. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Nat.”

“I’ve got to go.” She pointed at a bench outside the station. “If you have to be here, sit there and don’t talk to anyone. Pretend you’re a blind, deaf mute.”

Foley sat, she nurtured her hunger and her anxiety and watched Nat work, making and taking phone calls. Neither of them had lunch, though Nat probably could’ve eaten. She phoned an update to Gabriella’s voicemail, left another message for Hugh, kept up with work email on her phone.

People with everyday business in the station went in and out the sliding glass doors with curious over the shoulder glances at the waiting media. Foley didn’t leave the bench seat. She didn’t talk to anyone. She especially avoided Toby. And she prepared herself for the worst by hoping for the best.

24: Word Against Word

Checking Toshber’s teeth was a reflex. A useful distraction from the doubt and horror Drum had seen in Foley’s eyes during that frantic, loud moment when they brought him inside the station. Coming to watch his downfall was fitting, but that didn’t match the expression on her face. She didn’t look triumphant. He’d felt her fear and shock as if they were a physical force, a king hit. It almost stuck him to the spot. He knew he had to keep a lid on how it distressed him, so he checked Toshber’s rabbit teeth for lipstick and was oddly disappointed not to find any coloured stains.

It was useful to note her ankles were still thick and Pagonis’s jaw was still stubble dark, though it was relatively early in the day.

“Did you sleep well, Drum? We have a big day ahead of us.”

He’d barely closed his eyes. He’d dared not return to the cave and the floor of the foyer was intolerably hard, his dreams more than unusually unsettling. He watched Toshber arrange a bunch of files on the desk. Her grey roots were showing down her centre part. It was hard to imagine what she hadn’t seen on the streets, in interview rooms like this, in courts and jails. She was a reasonable person; everything about her suggested she expected to have a shitty day.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to talk again like we did yesterday. It might be that you remember things differently after a good slee

p. You might want to share what you remember with us and we’ll take it from there. Do you understand?”

He understood he’d taken Foley’s trust and compassion and made a funeral pyre of them. “I understand, but I’m not aware of any repressed memories surfacing overnight.”

She laughed. “For an unemployed homeless guy, you sure have a mouth on you.” She slid a photograph across the table. “Do you know this woman?”

And now the flame was lit. A lie would make this go easier. It was the woman from the park, the one he’d seen wandering through the sculptures, same as he’d been doing. If he wasn’t careful the vultures would have all of him. “I’ve seen that woman. That’s the extent of my knowing her.”

Toshber tapped a blunt fingernail on the photo. “Where?”

“In Marks Park.”

“You met her there?”

“Met implies something organised.” He looked from Toshber to Pagonis, trying to read their moods. “We were there at the same time. But so were thousands of other people, looking at sculpture.”

“How many times have you seen this woman?”

He shrugged, it wasn’t like he’d counted. “A couple of times while the sculpture walk was on, then once on the day it was being packed up and trucked away.”

“Did the two of you talk?”

“No.”