Medea's Curse (21 page)

The weekend was busy. They had the Bendigo gig on the Friday night, the Halfpenny
on Saturday night and practice Sunday.

Monday morning, Jessie was on time. And she wasn’t alone.

‘This is Jay.’ The man with her smiled tentatively. Blond, tallish—maybe just short
of one eight five—he had a wiry frame and looked at her from behind large black-rimmed
glasses. Category geek, subcategory non-cute. And not ponytail man, Jessie’s occasional
lift.

Natalie took the lead. ‘Thanks for coming.’ Jay hesitated before taking her outstretched
hand. His skin felt cool against hers. ‘I understand you’ve been a great support
to Jessie.’

‘It’s been hard for her since Hannah went to prison.’ Jay glanced at his stepsister
but she was looking around the room.

Natalie spoke to Jessie. ‘Did Hannah tell you I visited?’

‘Yes, um, thanks,’ she said. ‘It meant a lot to us both.’

She seemed to mean it, so at least Natalie hadn’t been manic enough to put Hannah
off.

‘I try to visit and ring as much as I can,’ said Jay. He patted Jessie’s hand, little
fingers entwining. Was this a habit from supporting each other through their adolescence?
Jessie made a visible, unsuccessful, attempt to use it to stabilise herself as Jay
talked about how he worried about her.

‘Jessie, is there anything you’d like to say to Jay while he’s here? Or have me talk
to him about?’ Natalie tried to make sense of the emotions that passed across her
face: it was always going to be about trust. The people she had loved had failed
her before. Even Hannah, by going to gaol, had
fulfilled Jessie’s expectation of
abandonment.

Jessie shook her head.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ asked Jay. He looked at Natalie and then Jessie.

‘Jessie, maybe you’d like to answer that?’

Jessie shrugged.

‘Maybe just knowing you’re there helps,’ said Natalie. ‘Part of therapy is to help
Jessie be more independent.’

‘Do you think I could look after a baby?’ Jessie asked.

Jay quickly covered up his look of disbelief.

‘I think one thing at a time, don’t you?’ said Natalie.

‘Meaning?’ Jessie’s face clouded. Rejection.

‘Meaning it would be great to be able to talk to you and Hannah about this, together.’
Jessie managed a hint of a smile. ‘I know four more years sounds like a long time,’
said Natalie, ‘but you’re still young. The work we do in that time can help you be
prepared, be a better mother.’

‘Hannah wants us to be good mothers,’ Jessie agreed. ‘Not like the trash Hannah has
to deal with.’

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

‘Saw her yesterday and there’s another baby killer in.’

‘They are often mentally ill,’ Natalie said.

‘Yeah well, maybe. Don’t think this one is. They’re just plain shitheads down in
Gippsland.’

The tightening of Natalie’s muscles was hard and sharp enough to stop her breathing
for several seconds. As soon as Jessie and Jay were out the door she went to the
coffee room and found a paper. Page three. Tiphanie had been arrested.

Natalie read every word of the
Herald-Sun
report and then searched the net. Travis
and Tiphanie’s neighbours had finally decided it was their civic obligation to cough
up what
they knew. Or more likely, it was time for payback over something, or for
their fifteen minutes of fame. Amber was mentioned. Would Declan see the article?
The
Age
report was brief, with no photos or reference to the death of Bella-Kaye
by name.

According to one report, Tiphanie had been seen the night before—when Travis was
at his mate’s—carrying a screaming child to a car. Another suggested that it was
a ‘bundle’; the implication being that Tiphanie had silenced the child, perhaps fatally.
Tiphanie was now the last person to be seen with the child. She had clearly lied
earlier. Natalie’s judgment had been right but it didn’t make her feel any better.
And Tiphanie had been charged with murder, not infanticide. Chloe was less than a
year old. What were they thinking?

She rang Damian in Welbury and spent several minutes on hold before being connected.

‘Why did it take these neighbours so damn long to talk to you guys?’

‘Let’s say they weren’t falling over themselves in their attempts to be helpful,’
said Damian. ‘One side have history with Travis, they’ve got an AVO out against him.
The other’s a friend of Tiphanie.’

Some friend.

‘You believe them?’

Damian hesitated. ‘Yes. The media exaggerated the differences between the stories.’

‘Timing?’

‘Vague, but definitely that night, while the football was on. The Collingwood–Essendon
match locks in the timing.’

‘She took Chloe in her car?’

‘They only have one car.’

‘So what car was she carrying the child to?’

‘We’re investigating.’

Natalie wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. ‘Investigating what?’

‘She lied, Natalie, has lied from the beginning.’

‘What else do you have then?’

There was a brief silence. ‘The screaming baby wasn’t that night, but the bundle
was. The screaming was in the back garden during the day. They’d mentioned this to
us before; but they’d played it down, hadn’t wanted to get Tiphanie into trouble.
Now they’ve said they heard more. Something might have happened then.’

Which would mean Travis was helping
Tiphanie
cover it up. Or that she alone had been
responsible for the death and the cover-up. Natalie shook her head in disbelief.
‘Why murder? You saw her. She was a mess, she was on pills. Mental state unbalanced
by childbirth.’

‘I just did what I was told, Natalie. We had a request from the O.P.P. to put it
past them before proceeding and he wouldn’t listen to me.’

‘He?’ asked Natalie through gritted teeth.

‘Your friend O’Shea.’

Georgia had cancelled because of a meeting with her lawyer, giving a welcome break
as Natalie counted down to when her work day was over. She wove her bike through
the peak-hour traffic and parked outside Liam’s office.

Natalie put her helmet through the scanner and went straight to the tenth floor.
Liam O’Shea and maybe half a dozen other lawyers occupied this half of the floor,
protected by the rottweiler secretary at the front desk.

‘I need to see Liam O’Shea.’

‘Mr O’Shea is leaving for the day. Would you like to make an appointment?’ She showed
her teeth. Less rottweiler, more toothpaste ad.

‘Tell him Dr King is here and it’s urgent.’ She put one of her cards down to underline
her status, one that Toothpaste Grin was clearly struggling to believe.

‘I’m afraid he can’t possibly—’

‘It’s okay, Carol,’ Liam said from behind her. ‘This won’t take long.’

Natalie didn’t look at him as she pushed past into his office. It was big and messy
and the view was obstructed by the next building. Liam clicked the door shut behind
them. He walked over to his desk and sat behind it.

‘You were wanting to see me, Dr King?’

Liam’s look was so cold it almost took her breath away. She had never known him,
not really. If he thought he could scare her off he was mistaken. There was a flicker
in his look. Natalie was too fired up to stop and wonder where he was coming from.

‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’

Liam looked at her for a long time. She stared hard at him without wavering.

Liam leaned forward on the desk. ‘You were the one who didn’t want to know about
my wife.’

‘What?’ Natalie kept her voice hard as she tried to make sense of what was going
on.

She hadn’t seen him since the law association gig. She started laughing. ‘Oh shit,
you dickhead. This isn’t about Lauren. Or you.’

Seeing Liam was now confused, she stopped. Admittedly some of the new lyrics she’d
extemporised were a bit over the top, a little risky, but Lauren couldn’t have known
she
was directing them at her husband. But that was beside the point; she’d come
to see him about Tiphanie.

‘Look Liam, I’ve always known you were married and I don’t give a fuck. When I saw
you there with Lauren Oldham, of all people, I couldn’t help but tease you with that
song, but that’s all it was.’

Now she was looking for it, she realised how tense he had been. His shoulders slumped
slightly. She almost felt sorry for him. He had been afraid she was going to turn
into a bunny boiler.

‘So it’s business, and I’m seriously pissed off.’ She took a breath. ‘Why didn’t
you tell me you were arresting Tiphanie, and why murder, not infanticide? You know
she’ll get a custodial sentence if she gets convicted, she might not even get bail.
Was all that caring and sharing of information and cases just so I could set her
up for you? I know that as far as you’re concerned my involvement in the case was
purely a means to get into my pants, but like it or not, I have been involved.’

Liam nodded to a chair. ‘Why don’t you sit down? Coffee?’

‘No, I don’t want us to sit and have coffee like a couple of lawyers,’ said Natalie.
‘I care what happens to Tiphanie even if it’s just another case to you.’

‘You might be surprised.’

Liam stood up and went to a fridge in the corner of his office and got himself a
beer. He offered her one and she ignored him, glaring at him, arms folded. He sat
down in one of the lounge chairs by the window and pointed to the other. Natalie
remained on her feet.

‘I didn’t know they were going to arrest her,’ he said. ‘I was in Hong Kong.’

‘And the murder charge?’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ said Natalie. ‘Trouble is that won’t be how Tiphanie’s seeing it,
whether she did it or not. She’ll be terrified.’

‘Good.’

‘Good?’ Natalie stared at him. ‘You really are a complete arsehole.’

She turned to leave but he was at the door before her, hand over her shoulder ensuring
it stayed shut. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She wanted to
screw him as much as she wanted to slug him.

‘I know she didn’t do it,’ he whispered into her ear.

All the anger drained from her. She turned around; their faces were only centimetres
apart.

‘You want to scare her into dishing Travis up.’

Liam stood back. His eyes confirmed her guess.

Natalie shook her head. ‘I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing.’

Chapter 19

Justice Christina Stavrou delivered a coruscating lecture to the O.P.P. regarding
their insistence that Tiphanie go to the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, and sent her
to Yarra Bend for a psychiatric assessment. Natalie knew about it from the morning
paper before arriving on the ward.

Before she could see Tiphanie, Natalie’s mobile rang: Amber calling from Lucia Cortini’s
office at the gaol. Almost hysterical over Tiphanie’s arrest.
Shit.
She’d have to
see her again. Surely even Declan would concede she had to put her patient first.

Tiphanie looked better than Natalie had expected. She reminded herself of the girl
who had taken off to her grandmother’s with the pile of
Cleo
s. There was backbone
in there somewhere.

‘How are you feeling?’

Tiphanie forced a smile. ‘Crap.’

‘Want to tell me about it? What really happened?’

Tiphanie looked away. ‘I have.’

‘Yeah, well, we both know you haven’t told me everything. Maybe it’s time for the
truth now. It can’t get you in any more trouble than you’re already in.’ This wasn’t
entirely accurate, but then, Natalie wasn’t the police.

‘I didn’t carry Chloe anywhere screaming,’ Tiphanie said, her knuckles white. ‘And
she didn’t scream in the backyard. They’re bloody liars.’ In a softer voice she added,
‘Chloe knew she was safe with me.’

Meaning Chloe
would
scream with Travis? Was Tiphanie denying carrying the child,
or just denying that she had been crying?

‘So what did the neighbours see?’

‘They’re liars.’

‘May well be, but they aren’t lying about this, are they Tiphanie? They saw something.’

Tiphanie stared at the floor. ‘Do you think they’ll change the charge? To infanticide?’

Her lawyer would surely be working on it. Natalie knew she had to make a choice.
Focus on her patient, or consider the bigger picture? Fulfil her responsibility as
Tiphanie’s treating doctor, or buy into Liam’s scheme and scare her, which might
also help Amber.

Natalie kept her tone even; she was just conveying the facts. ‘You can get five years
for infanticide, more for murder.’

Tears started to trickle down Tiphanie’s cheek. ‘I didn’t kill her.’

‘Then tell the truth. But what you tell me, I want to be able to tell the police.
Understand?’

Tiphanie looked up. ‘She played like she always did in the backyard that day. We
make a lot of noise when we play; she hides—well pretends to—and I play animals tracking
her down. She was laughing, yelling, we both were. We were having
fun
.’

Natalie didn’t have time to consider the likelihood of
this scenario; wasn’t Chloe
put in the front of the television all day? Wasn’t Tiphanie being treated for depression?

‘That night she wouldn’t sleep,’ Tiphanie continued. ‘I wasn’t coping. I…let her
go with Travis.’ She was sobbing now. ‘I thought she’d sleep in the car…It’s worked
before. He…he’s her father.’

The neighbours had said the bundle was packed into the car during the football match.
But according to Damian, Travis had been at his mate’s place, with witnesses, for
the entire game. Maybe the neighbours got the time wrong. Made sense; football supporters
would be glued to the box, not monitoring the activity next door.

‘You’re feeling guilty that you didn’t protect her.’ Natalie deliberately softened
her tone.

‘I love her!’ Tiphanie was screaming, loud enough that a nurse came running. Natalie
waved her away.

‘I’m prepared to believe you didn’t kill her, Tiphanie,’ Natalie said, ‘but you might
get charged as an accessory.’ She might have added that, like Amber, she would have
to learn to live with the fact that she didn’t save her daughter by leaving long
before the crisis point.