04 Heller's Punishment - Heller

by JD Nixon

  On the final day, when the museum staff had ushered the last weary patron out, I took the lift upstairs to catch a ride home with Elton. I caught him and Alice exchanging phone numbers. He looked embarrassed, flushing.

  “Alice is interested in a career in security,” he explained unnecessarily as he helped me out of the costume. “She wants to have coffee next week to talk about it.”

  “Sure,” I said noncommittally, my eyes running up and down her again. She would have made the worst security officer I’d ever met, although as a devoted girlfriend . . .

  “Good luck with that, Alice,” I smiled as I dressed, winking at her. She stared at me in surprise, blushed, then smiled.

  “Thanks, Tilly. I really hope to achieve my . . . career goals.”

  “Be gentle.”

  “I’m not sure I can promise that. I’m very passionate about . . . security.”

  Poor Elton was left scratching his head over our incomprehensible conversation. I wasn’t sure whether to pity him or not. The female of the species, et cetera, et cetera . . . And while Alice didn’t look the type to eat her partner after mating, you never knew with the quiet ones.

  I waved him goodbye back at the Warehouse, free again, and enjoyed a quiet and relaxing weekend hanging around with Daniel and Niq, putting up with more spider jokes.

  Back in the office on Monday morning, Heller’s sharp voice invaded my thoughts. “Matilda! Do we have to wait for you all day?”

  My eyes flew up. It was five minutes past the start of our regular staff meeting and I was still sitting at my desk, directly opposite his office. I’d been distracted from the time by the impressively glossy new business brochure for Heller’s that someone had left in my in-tray. It was the first time I’d laid eyes on it and I wasn’t happy, to say the least.

  I stormed into his office, waving the brochure around angrily. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

  “What are you talking about?” Heller asked, his calm voice only serving to irritate me further. As usual, we were meeting in his office in the small grouping of two armchairs and a lounge he’d placed around a coffee table. The furniture was from Europe, sleek, expensive, modern and black. Heller sat in his customary armchair, colossal twins Sid and Clive filled up the three-seater lounge by themselves and Daniel had snared the other armchair. I would be forced to drag a chair from Heller’s desk over to the meeting, which only made me grumpier.

  “This!” I flung the brochure down on the coffee table in front of him and hauled over a chair.

  He looked at it. “Yes. It’s the new brochure. Do you like it?”

  “No, I don’t like it! Why the hell is there a picture of me in my bikini in it?” I glared at everyone, opening the brochure and stabbing at the offending photo with my index finger. “Is that the kind of image that Heller’s wants to project about its female staff? This brochure has gone to every existing client and will go to every potential client for the next two years! Nobody even asked me if I agreed. I cannot believe you people sometimes!”

  Heller couldn’t deny it – there I was, caught unawares on the rooftop, sunning myself in my skimpiest bikini, a lot of flesh on display.

  “Which one of you meatheads decided it would be a good idea to advertise the business with my body?”

  Three of the four men in the room stared at me, perplexed. The fourth had a suspiciously bland expression on his face.

  “Daniel?” I questioned, honing in, watching him like a hawk. His mouth contorted under the control he was exerting. He couldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Daniel!” I screeched with an equal mix of anger and laughter. I threw the brochure at him. “I thought this was real!”

  He dodged the brochure, laughing at me. “You should have seen your face, Tilly. Absolutely priceless.”

  I launched myself on him, tickling mercilessly. He grabbed my arms and we wrestled together on the armchair, both giggling madly, the other three men watching us with varying levels of tolerance. Heller’s level was quite low.

  “Okay, that’s enough, you two. Sit down, Matilda.”

  I plonked myself down on Daniel’s lap, leaning back against his chest, my arm around his shoulders.

  “Get off,” he grunted, trying to shove me.

  “No. You have to put up with me now,” I smiled. “Serves you right for photoshopping that brochure.”

  “God, you weigh so much,” he grumbled. “You should really lay off the chocolate biscuits.”

  “We don’t have any chocolate biscuits here,” Heller frowned, ever the health freak.

  “Of course we don’t,” I agreed innocently, tweaking Daniel’s nose to keep him quiet. “Daniel’s mistaken. As usual.” Heller didn’t need to know that I smuggled them in, but his sceptical eyes suggested that perhaps he’d already guessed.

  Heller sighed. “Please get off Daniel, Matilda. You’ll be straining his back. Go and sit over there. And I’d appreciate it if we could maintain some professionalism. I’m very busy today.”

  I was immediately contrite. I’d never do anything to hurt Daniel.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” I said to him apologetically, planting a kiss on his forehead. I obediently sat in the chair I’d dragged over.

  “Let’s start, shall we? Daniel, what do you have to report?”

  And the meeting followed its usual pattern. Daniel, who was Heller’s office manager, spoke about new and prospective clients and budgetary matters; Sid brought everyone up-to-date on surveillance issues; ditto for Clive on security issues. Heller didn’t speak much, but listened intently. I neither spoke much nor listened much and today was no exception. I spent the time sneaking glances at Heller, trying to decide if I was only sort of in love with him or mostly in love with him, an important distinction for a woman.

  “Matilda? Matilda?” Heller’s snappy voice slowly penetrated my dreamy reverie. “Would you pay attention for once, please?”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “I have a job for you.”

  He was silent for a few seconds, flicking through the paperwork on his lap, beautiful face pursed in concentration. He found the file he was searching for and freed it from the bundle. He spent another few seconds re-reading the information it contained before continuing. “This one’s a little out of the ordinary.”

  I met his eyes. “Heller, I haven’t had an ordinary job since I started working here. I don’t even know what an ordinary job is around this place.”

  “You can come with me to meet the clients tomorrow.”

  “Okay. What’s the job?”

  “We meet them at eleven, so we’ll leave at ten-fifteen.”

  “And the job is?”

  “Don’t be late.” He stood up. “That’s it, thank you everyone. I have a meeting to go to.”

  And he departed, leaving me none the wiser.

  I hated it when he did that.

  Chapter 4

  “This is my daughter,” the man said as he pushed the photograph across the coffee table to us. “I’m sorry, but it’s over two years old. We don’t have anything more recent.” He looked ashamed as he said that, as if he’d just admitted to a great flaw in his and his wife’s parenting skills not to have a current photo of their only child.

  I picked up the photo to have a better look. She was a pretty girl, with long tousled blonde hair, dark blue eyes, a cute pert nose and a sweet cupid’s bow mouth. She was carrying a little baby fat, giving her fullness in her face and the hint of a double chin. She wasn’t smiling in the photo, but she was obviously well cared for, with nice clothes and an expensive diamond and emerald necklace around her neck, a set of matching earrings dangling from her ears.

  “She was sixteen in that photo. We bought her that jewellery for her sixteenth birthday,” said her mother softly. She had barely contributed a word to the conversation so far, sitting next to her husband on the luxurious leather sofa in their sumptuous living room, nervously twirling a strand of pearls in her fingers.

  I passed the photo to
Heller, who looked at it silently before passing it back to me. I put it in my handbag. I would need it later to identify the girl.

  “And how long has it been since you’ve spoken to your daughter, Mr Heyne?” I asked.

  He consulted silently with his wife, before turning back to us. “It would be at least a year since we spoke to Felicia, Ms Chalmers. That was the last time she ran away. She refuses to have any further direct contact with us. She accuses us of interfering too much in her life and bullying her. We only have contact with her through our lawyer now. And even then she usually only contacts him to demand more money from us.”

  “Do you know what she’s been doing during the time since you saw her?”

  His laugh contained no joy at all. “Shooting up, stealing, selling herself and being arrested would be my guess. Precisely what she’s been doing since she ran away the first time not long after that photo was taken.”

  It was a heart-breaking story, but neither of them appeared to be on the verge of tears, although Mrs Heyne definitely looked the weepy type. I received the impression that they had no more tears left to shed. There was an aura of poignant resignation around them, as if they’d finally come to terms with the fact that their only child was not going to be swayed from her choice of lifestyle by their tears and entreaties.

  Mr Heyne spread his hands out in front of him in a gesture of hopelessness, and continued, “This is really our last chance with her. She’s told our lawyer that she wants to kick her drug habit and get off the street. She says she’s willing to take up our offer to go to rehabilitation, which we’ve sweetened with a considerable amount of money to be given to her on successful completion of the program.” He sighed with weariness. “But we’ve been down this road twice before. If it doesn’t work this time, we’re at a loss as to how to help her any more. We’ll probably have to cut her loose. That absolutely breaks our heart, but there’s only so much you can take as a parent. It’s taking a terrible toll on our own health. Do you have any children, Ms Chalmers?”

  I shook my head. I was twenty-five and had been told after a serious car accident that I would never have any children. At that moment, listening to their sad tale, I didn’t feel too regretful about that at all.

  Heller spoke up then, and we all turned to listen. People did tend to pay attention to him. Well, it was hard not to really.

  “Can I just go over the details of this assignment, so that Matilda is aware of exactly what she’ll be doing?” We all nodded in agreement. “Your daughter is flying in tomorrow from down south to attend a rehabilitation clinic located in the mountains outside the city. Matilda will meet her off the plane and accompany her to the clinic. She will stay with your daughter the entire week she attends the clinic, before escorting her back to your house for follow up rehabilitation.”

  “That’s correct,” confirmed Mr Heyne.

  “I have two questions. Why do you believe your daughter will require a security officer? And does she know that you’re hiring Matilda?”

  He sat back on the chair and blasted the Heynes with his eyes. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be on the pointy end of those icy blues, as I knew from much personal experience. They fidgeted a little under his intense scrutiny, before Mr Heyne replied.

  “She will try to run away from the clinic. At least, that’s what she’s done both other times. I’m not sure if you know, but it takes up to seven days to physically withdraw from heroin, so she needs to complete the program. I’m almost certain that she’s only agreed to do this to receive the money we offered. I don’t know if she’s at all sincere in her desire to quit. But now that she’s finally agreed to go again, we want to make sure that she’ll stay for the entire week this time. And then we can consider longer-term rehabilitation for her emotional withdrawal. And we’re prepared to do anything to make her stay – even use force, if necessary. She did agree to have someone with her the whole time, so Ms Chalmers will not be a shock to her.”

  “Good,” said Heller crisply. He turned to me. “Any further questions, Matilda?”

  “Just the details of her flight, please. And you’ve already organised our transfer to the clinic from the airport?” I asked. Mr Heyne nodded and handed over a printout of his daughter’s itinerary. I had a thought. “Um, how are you sure that she’ll get on the plane in the first place?”

  He smiled grimly. “We have someone at the other end escorting her to the plane, making sure she boards.”

  I nodded and Heller and I shook hands with the Heynes and took our leave. Their house was beautiful, in one of the city’s top five suburbs, with expensively lush and well-maintained gardens. I wondered aloud to Heller as we walked down the drive how a girl from such a privileged background, with seemingly caring parents, could end up as a desperately addicted sex worker on the streets.

  “Perhaps she couldn’t handle the pressure of living up to such a perfect life? Maybe her parents expected her to be perfect as well,” he suggested, but I could tell that he couldn’t care less about the girl or her circumstances. As long as he was paid, he rarely took a deeper interest in our assignments. I was the opposite, not really caring about the money, but very curious about our clients and their motivations. I was a pretty nosy person, I guess.

  We climbed into his black Mercedes 4WD, personalised with a black and gold licence plate that simply read: HELLER. We headed back to the Warehouse.

  “Are you okay with this assignment, Matilda?” he asked as we drove, shooting me a sideways glance. I responded with a withering glare. As if it mattered whether I was okay or not – he would make me do it anyway. I didn’t know why he was suddenly pretending to be democratic.

  “I’ve never met a heroin addict before,” I said, instead of replying. “What do you think she’ll be like?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on how she copes with the withdrawal. She’s going cold. I don’t think it will be easy. For her or you. It would have been better if she’d done a methadone program. Frankly, I don’t think this will be successful, especially considering her previous failed attempts. But one thing you must remember, and as her father stressed, is that she cannot be trusted.”

  We exchanged a quick look. “Another fun adventure for me then, huh?” I asked wryly.

  “That’s the spirit, Matilda,” he replied with his sexy, sly, half-smile that I loved so much.

  I spent that evening hanging with Daniel and Niq again. It was something I did most evenings now that I didn’t have a boyfriend, a situation about which they were more than happy. They liked to have me to themselves. The plan was for me to make them dinner and then we’d watch one of their much-loved horror movies, my least favourite pastime.

  Heller surprised all of us by coming to my flat and joining us for dinner and the movie. So instead of spending ninety percent of the movie with a cushion in front of my face, I had the distinct pleasure of burying my face in his chest to avoid the awful bloodshed on the TV screen. He sat on the lounge next to me, gorgeously casual in designer jeans and t-shirt, his arm slung around my shoulders. With his bare feet crossed on my coffee table, he watched the movie with scarcely concealed incredulity and scorn. My Heller wasn’t much into fiction, his business-focussed head firmly planted in reality. Apart from the news, he didn’t watch TV or listen to the radio, he didn’t watch movies, he didn’t read books, he didn’t listen to music. He worked at his business, he worked on his body and he screwed around. That was his life. And if he had any interests outside of those three, I was yet to discover evidence of it.

  I leant against him with happy indolence, one arm thrown across his well-muscled stomach, one leg thrown over his legs, my head on his chest. He was quick to slide his other arm around me whenever I gave a little screech of horror as another person met a grisly death onscreen, even dropping a sporadic kiss on the top of my head. And yeah, sure I played it up a bit for some extra attention from him. Nothing wrong with that.

  Daniel and Niq were slightly resentful that Heller usurped their
places next to me on the lounge. Normally the three of us always sat bunched up, even holding hands sometimes when the movie particularly scared me. But Heller was undoubtedly top dog and they had to vacate their favourite positions next to me for him. I guess I was kind of popular in a small way, at least amongst the Warehouse occupants, being the only female around for miles.

  Niq was fastest of the two to sit on my other side, cuddling up to me, one of his arms hooked around my free arm, while I cuddled up to Heller. Poor Daniel was relegated to a side chair by himself, staring at the screen with a mutinous face. Oh dear, I’d have to make it up to him later.

  “Why can’t we watch something nice for once?” I complained when the movie finished, worrying about nightmares. I had an over-active imagination and it wouldn’t be the first time that I hadn’t been able to sleep after watching one of those ghastly movies. I couldn’t believe how many of them there were, one entire bookcase in the Warehouse’s sixth floor library completely devoted to horror DVDs.

  “Sorry, Tilly. All the Disney animations were booked out tonight. I think Sid and Clive are watching them. They’re probably having a princess marathon,” laughed Daniel. Niq snickered behind his hand. Even Heller smiled and he couldn’t name a Disney princess if he tried.

  “Oh, very funny,” I said, not impressed with his wit. “I won’t be able to sleep now and I have that new job starting tomorrow.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” said Heller, sighing hugely as if it was a great imposition for him instead of something he’d probably planned all along.

  “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” I noted tartly.

  “You can thank me later, my sweet,” he smiled, chasing the other two from my flat.

  We kept a small stock of pyjamas, clothes and toiletries at each other’s places for the frequent times we had ‘sleepovers’. And while I cleaned up the lounge room and kitchen a little, he went straight to my bedroom and bathroom to change into his usual black silk boxers and brush his teeth. I followed, doing the same, and climbed into my bed next to him.