Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (23 page)

Wolfrom starts to open his mouth to explain that lawyers aren't allowed in interrogations, but Lewis just shakes her head, so he subsides and watches the student stomp out of the room.

As the door swings closed, Wolfrom says, “I wish they would stop getting legal advice from American cop shows.”

“That's life, Wolfie.”

“Wouldn't you think he'd be friends with the vic, he was out searching for her. You think he's the doer?”

Lewis shrugs. “No idea. But did you see the “Free Byron” button on his backpack?”

“No.” Wolfrom frowns. “What's that mean?”

“It means this Sumner kid supports the G20 protesters.”

“Oh shit.”

Lewis says, “Since all cops are assholes, talking to us is bad.”

“But that was nothing to do with us. That was Toronto.”

“Tell it to the Internet.”

“Yeah.” Wolfrom sighs. “And that crazy Boingboing.”

“All I know is it makes the job that much more impossible. Let's just hope that they're not all like that, 'cause if they are we'll never catch this fuckin' perp.”

Police have stretched crime scene tape around the wooded path, and crime scene technicians comb the immediate area where Natasha was found.

In the light of day, Val Thompson, the security chief, is gray with exhaustion as he walks Detective Lewis along the route Natasha most likely followed. Detective Lewis scans the path carefully, but it just looks like wood chips to her.

A uniformed officer calls, “I need a tech over here.”

Lewis and Val leg it over to where the smug officer waits.

“What've you got?” asks Lewis.

“Looks like somebody's been laying in wait in here. Lots of cigarette butts, stomped down earth, screened by the shrubs.

“That's great,” says Val. “You can get DNA off the butts?”

“Maybe. None of them look too fresh.”

“Maybe this was where he scoped things out. Great work Harris.”

Harris preens as Lewis leads Val back to the paved path, saying. “Just don't expect magic here, Val. CSI is only a TV show, and DNA only helps when there is a suspect to match.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Detective Lewis.”

“Good, then. We may get something out of canvassing the neighbourhood.”

Val asks, “What can we do to help you, Detective?”

“We're gonna have to interview students. Her friends, classmates. Anyone who might have information. Can you round up a room we can use for on site interviews?”

“Yeah. Sure.” says Val, “That's a surprise. The other rape we had didn't get nearly this much law enforcement attention.”

“You talking date rape,Val?”

“Yeah. It was at a frat party.”

“This is different for two reasons. She holds up her index finger and says, “One, it looks premeditated. Laying in wait. Possibly a stranger, but maybe not. Either way, a predator.”

“Uh oh. You're saying this isn't going to be the only one?”

“That's why we're coming down on it hard, Val. The level of violence is very disturbing.” Lewis holds up a second finger. “He hit her hard enough to knock her out. Maybe she knows him, and he didn't want her to identify him, but the perp didn't just rape her, he used her as a punching bag, and when he was done he just walked away. Leaving her out in the elements without even an anonymous tip. Pretty cold.”

“You're saying it's not just a crime of opportunity.”

“We don't know much of anything yet, but it's a strong possibility. And, number three,” adding a final finger Lewis says, “The worst is that the perp doesn't need a conscious victim.”

Val blanches as he gets the implication. “That's bad.”

Lewis nods. “I have to get to the hospital. The victim's regained consciousness. Maybe she can tell us something so we can keep it from happening again.”

“I'll get you that interview room.”

With hair swaddled in bandages and her forehead approximating a rainbow that ends in violet rings around her eyes, Natasha knows she's looked better. Propped up in a hospital bed, she tries to listen to the cop asking her questions but it's hard staying focused.

Detective Lewis asks, “Did you see anyone? Or anything out of the ordinary?”

“It's fuzzy, but no, I didn't see anything. I was on my way to catch a bus, meet Liz, take some pictures. I heard crying.”

Lewis frowns, “Crying?”

“In the bushes, well that's what I thought, anyway. I was gonna keep going, 'cause I'd just had a big fight with my best friend, but then I thought hey, maybe I can help, you know? Famous last words.”

Natasha smiles ruefully and tries to shake her head but the quick movement triggers a wave of agony causing her to freeze mid wince. “Owww.”

Natasha grips the bed rail tightly for a minute to allow the pain to subside. “Okay, I gotta try to remember that the only reason I don't feel like total crap is the heavy shit they're pumping into me.” Her breathing is returning to normal. “Um. Where was I?”

Glancing at her notebook Lewis says, “You heard crying and were going to try to help.”

“Okay, right. So I went off the path where I thought the crying was coming from but then I couldn't hear it anymore so I called and blundered in through the trees. Dumb, eh?”

“No”, Lewis says, “Not dumb. You were trying to help someone. That's never dumb. Going so far of the path— now that was dumb.”

Natasha winces, “Don't make me laugh.”

Lewis pulls a face, “Sorry. You were really lucky your friends went looking for you. If they hadn't found you when they did you would be in much worse shape.”

“Yeah,”agrees Natasha quietly. “The doctor said.”

“That's all for now, here's my card, ” Lewis sets it on the night table, “In case you remember anything else. You got a pretty good thump. When you're feeling better things might come back to you. So you'll give me a call if you remember anything, right?”

“Sure,” Natasha smiles, dreamily watching Lewis leave. And then here comes Liz and Ethan. Natasha smiles wider, careful not to laugh because more than anything they look like the undead.

“You guys look like crap. I hope I don't look that bad.”

“Oh Natasha, I'm so glad you're gonna be OK.” smiles Liz through moist eyes,

“I heard you're the only reason I'm still kicking, girl, and I want to tell you I appre . . . app . . .  bleh . . . you know.”

Liz nods, and Ethan says, “Good drugs, eh Nat?”

“Oh yeah. But I think I'm gonna . . .” and her eyes slide closed. A small trilling snore escapes her lips.

Ethan gives Liz a hug, and tells her, “Okay, she's gonna live. I don't know about you but I need sleep or coffee. Or both.”

Eric stands at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil he pops opens the tin of Darjeeling and measures the leaves into the tea ball then drops it into the cup. But he almost drops the tin when he feels arms encircle him from behind.

Elsie.

Eric can feel his body betray him at the familiar feel of her pressing into him from behind, and she slips her hands inside the waistband of his track pants.

“Mmmm,” she says. “You missed me.”

“Elsie stop it.” he says quietly. He turns around and is struck by how ethereal she looks. Probably worn out from fucking the other half of the guys on campus last night.

He smiles, “Involuntary reaction. Old habits die hard.”

“They don't have to die hard, we can put them to use.”

Of course she lets her robe fall tantalizingly open but even the provocative glimpse of that perfect body can't get the taste of betrayal out of his mouth.

He just shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

The kettle starts to whistle, and he turns to shut it off, then pours the boiling water over the tea bell in his over sized mug. With the tea safely steeping he turns back and she's gone.

Eric sags back against the counter, weak with relief.

Adam is late arriving at school. The lot he normally parks in has been blocked by the police crime scene investigators. He and the other disgruntled students had to park in the overflow lot, necessitating an additional ten minute walk. Not an auspicious start to the day. He falls into step beside a guy he's seen in various lecture halls, the two of them trail the larger group of students hurrying to cover the ground between purgatory and the school.

“What happened?” he asks the guy.

“No idea. Just the cops were waving me away from the Lester Street lot.”

“Yes, me too. Perhaps there was an accident. I hope no one was injured, but I would rather it was cleared up today.”

“You and me both. I don't feature this much of a schlep twice daily.”

“We might end up in very good shape.” Adam says.

The guy laughs. “Buff. What a concept.”

As they enter the oval from the north, a red sports car speeds up the ring road. “Wow,” Adam's companion says admiringly. “Porsche Boxter Spyder. That one might even be this year's model. I haven't seen one offline before. Sweet.”

Adam says, “I didn't think you could park there.”

“Oh, you can't, it's just a drop zone. Usually nobody uses it except for commencement ceremonies when they have celeb guest speakers. Limos. VIPs, that kind of thing.”

“Ah. I'm Adam by the way. I believe we have some classes together.”

The other guy extends a hand for a quick shake. “Dave. Yeah, I've seen you around too. How are you getting along?”

“Okay, I guess. Not quite what I was expecting, though.”

Dave laughs. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“How so?” asks Adam, curious.

“Well, it happened to me too. Quite the shock to suddenly not be the smartest guy in school, eh?”

“You know, that never occurred to me.” Adam stops and suddenly everything is clear. That seems to answer everything. He looks at Dave gratefully. “You may well be correct .” Adam shakes his head and laughs. “I've been feeling as though I've lost my identity.”

“Once you understand that, its not quite so bad.”

Adam grins. “I suspect that if we'd gone to the same high school, I would have been the second smartest student.”

“We'll never know. My first class is over in the Arts Centre this morning. Maybe I'll catch you at lunch, Adam.”

“That would be good.” Adam smiles.

Dave nods toward the Porsche, still idling in front of the Medical Centre. “If that thing's still there when you go by, give one of the tires a kick for me.”

Adam laughs. “I certainly will, Dave.”

The two students go their separate ways and Adam's curiosity about the hot car draws him toward it. Dave seemed seriously impressed. Even Adam knows that a Porsche is a very expensive machine. He's never paid much attention to cars, that's one of the things his brother knows about. Looking at the Spyder it he can kind of understand the appeal. It doesn't look like an ordinary car. Certainly nothing like his beater.

Maybe it's some specialist here to lecture the pre-meds. The med school gets lots of extra perks, probably paid for with the donations they get from doctors they graduate.

As Adam draws near his good mood evaporates when he realizes that the blonde woman in the passenger seat is Barbie.

Last night Adam had hoped what Nick said was all lies, but part of him didn't really believe it, even then. Why would Nick lie? It doesn't look like he did, now that Adam sees beautiful Barbie wound around the driver.

They're kissing and . . . the man's hand is inside Barbie's blouse and he's touching her. They are practically having coitus in public, like one of those terrible movies his brother hides in the back of the cabinet at home. Adam can hardly breathe. But he pauses long enough to kick the rear tire before hurrying past to the tech building.

She liked him.

At least he thought she liked him. She smiled at him, she even kissed him. How can she kiss this other man? How can she let another man touch her like that. Adam should be the only one who gets to touch her like that.

Not some rich creep with a hot car.

Oscar is running late for his first class when he spots Jake weaving down the hall. The freshman looks wrecked.

“Jake my man, we missed you at the meeting. The girls were wondering what happened because we thought you'd be joining us. Although you look as though you've had a busy night.”

Jake shakes his head and waves Oscar away as he ducks into the mens room.

Curious, Oscar follows. Pushing the door open he sees Jake bent over the sink looking as though he's about to pass out.

“Are you sick? Should I bring you 'round to the medic?”

Jake shakes his head, then turns on the water and splashes some on his face, then uses the bottom of his sweatshirt as a towel.

Oscar watches with concern as Jake leans against the wall. “I should have stayed in bed. I'm sorry I missed the meeting, Oz. Something happened.”

“That's okay.” says Oscar, “Just, you look like hell and I'm not leaving you here by yourself. Lets take a bit of a wander to the caf and let me get a few of the major food groups into you.”

“You can't do that, Oz. You'll miss your class.”

“I've missed classes for worse reasons.”

“The caf isn't even open.”

“Ah, there you're wrong. The machines are open always.

“What about the food groups?”

“The vending machines are amply provisioned with salt, sugar, starch, fat and chocolate. Surely that's all the food groups represented.”

Eric smiles at the detective. She's not bad for an older woman. “So,” he asks, “Why did you decide to become a cop?”

Detective Lewis says, “I get to ask the questions.”

“I'm gonna be a writer, one day I might write about cops.”

“Well, when that time comes, you can ask me then. I wouldn't even charge you much.”

Eric raises an eyebrow, “Charge? You'd charge a writer?”

“It's called a consultation fee. But lets get on track here,” she glances at her notebook, “Eric. This is a serious situation. What I really need to know about is your relationship with Natasha.”

Eric shrugs. “Acquaintances at most. We live in the same place but don't usually spend much time together. She introduced me to Monty Python the other night if that helps.”