Lasting Scars

by Lenny Brando

  “What about that video?” Flanagan asked. “They’ll fire me.”

  “It has no direct bearing on the case,” Davidson said. “Perhaps you could see fit to keep it confidential?”

  Kapoor laughed. “I think the security lapses alone will impact on your career in property.”

  Davidson made a note on his pad. “In the interests of cooperation, how about you recommend further security training rather than sanctions for Mark? He’s a good lad, just over enthusiastic. No harm done.”

  “Tell that to Alice Madsen.”

  “You know I don't mean that detective.”

  “All right,” Kapoor said. “I’ll do what I can. But no promises. Anyway, Mark Flanagan, you are free to leave. Thank you for your co-operation.” She motioned to Manning to wrap up the recording. On completion of the formalities, Kapoor turned to Flanagan. “If you somehow hold on to your job, restrict your love life to your own bed.”

  *

  When Flanagan and his lawyer left, Kapoor spoke to Manning in the corridor. “Let’s talk to the estate agent about the viewers. And don't mention the video of that idiot and his girlfriend.”

  “He gets a pass on that?” Manning asked.

  Kapoor shrugged. “They’ll find out sooner or later. Anyway, not our problem.”

  “Fair enough. Do you think this guy, Brian Hailsham or whatever his real name is, will go back to Madsen's house?”

  Kapoor sipped on a plastic cup of water. “If this was a straightforward case, I’d say it’s unlikely. Too much hassle, too high risk. Given the changes made to the locks and alarm, he should look for another target. But...”

  “This guy’s different?”

  Kapoor nodded. “Think of the planning that went into this. Copying the keys. The disguised camera. We’ve seen footage of Flanagan in the bedroom, but he’s got footage of Alice too. So, what's he going to do with that?”

  “Might depend on his motive. Is it a sexual power thing or is it connected to South Kensington?”

  As she answered, Kapoor rubbed the back of her neck. “This is personal now. He’s stalking her, and he’s not finished yet.”

  “What do we do?”

  Kapoor crumbled the plastic cup in her hand. A massage would be good, she thought. Her shoulders and neck were stiff. She sighed as if that would ease the stress and tiredness. It didn’t. She shook her head. “The hard part first.”

  “DCI Thorne?”

  “No. I have to tell Madsen we let Flanagan go. Worse, we have no idea who broke into her house and that it is likely he’ll come for her again. We don't have the resources to watch the house, so she’s going to have to move somewhere safe until we catch the bastard.”

  77

  Laura rapped on Tim Burnham’s office door, even though it was open. Burnham looked up from his desk. “Yes Laura?”

  “I want to run something by you. You got a few minutes?”

  He nodded. “You got 2.”

  “I want to make a follow up piece on South Ken. Interview survivors and get their thoughts on the backlash against the Muslim community. But I also want to explore the social media vitriol aimed at Alice Madsen. She was arrested and released, yet people still think she's involved. People threatened her. We could also look at the impact the attack had on the injured and their families.”

  Burnham fiddled with a pen for a moment, then he shook his head. “Don't see it, Laura. Sounds like it needs a full production team.”

  “Are you saying I can't do it?”

  “You're a reporter, not a producer.”

  “But this is a report.”

  “More like a current affairs piece with a too heavy human interest angle.” He shrugged. “Not our thing. Sorry.”

  “Thanks, Tim. That’s just great.”

  He turned his attention back to his computer. “You’re welcome.”

  78

  Alice sat in a comfortable room in the Paddington Havens with specialist counsellor, Dr Eloise Traynor. With gentle expertise, she dismantled the Alice’s barriers. Soon Alice told her every detail about the assault, including the mace and the fact she’d kept that from the police. Eloise assured her of confidentiality, and Alice felt able to talk about Ved Volden and what had happened in Copenhagen. Alice spoke fast, and over the course of an hour, she felt the burden ease a little. Eloise neither judged nor offered solutions. She listened to what Alice had to say and gave unquestioning support with nothing demanded in return.

  When she finished, Alice said, “The detective told me they have the guy in custody. But there’s no closure. The sense of violation won't go away. I still carry the…” She looked down at her wrists. “…scars. Mental scars as well. Too damn many of them. Will they ever go away?”

  “With time and therapy you can heal.”

  “But I’ve been carrying some for years.”

  Eloise nodded. “It’s never too late to begin the healing process, and with proper treatment you will get better. However, right now we need to focus on the physical.”

  Alice shook her head and groaned. “You mean that examination?”

  “The Forensic Medical Examination,” Eloise nodded. “You mentioned he used his finger on your vagina, so...” She spread her palms wide. “It would be no harm to have you examined.”

  Alice crossed her legs. “Another invasion.”

  “I understand.” Eloise leaned in closer. “It’s no harm to see if there has been any abrasions or small cuts. If there is any physical evidence of assault, they can use it in court.”

  Alice pulled on her lower lip with her teeth. She wasn’t sore now, but if she went looking for pain, she was sure she would find it. “I don't know whether the pain is real or imaginary.”

  “Why don’t you speak to the doctor?”

  “Depends.” Alice shifted in the chair. “Is it... I mean who...”

  Eloise nodded. “It’s okay. Her name’s Miriam, Dr Miriam Lambert. She’s excellent.”

  “Can the police force me?”

  “No. Although they may encourage you to proceed.” She smiled at Alice. “But it’s your call. Do you feel up for it?”

  Alice took a deep breath. “Maybe I could try?”

  “Sure. Remember, if you get uncomfortable, you can stop.”

  “Okay, yes. Let’s try.”

  “That’s very brave of you Alice. I’ll go see if Miriam is available.”

  Alice resisted the temptation to power on her phone. She stared at the wall until the door opened and Eloise returned. “Miriam is treating someone else. I’m sorry, but she should be free in around 10 minutes.” She took a seat behind her desk. “It would be best if you don't mind the wait?”

  Alice shrugged. “Might as well wait.”

  “Good. Thank you.” Eloise opened her diary. “I suggest we schedule a counselling session for tomorrow. Would 4:30pm suit?”

  Alice nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good,” Eloise said. She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “You’re expecting your partner?”

  “Ian should be here by now. I have my phone powered off, maybe he called.”

  Eloise picked up her desk phone. “Let me check with reception.” She stabbed at the keypad with her finger, waited a minute, then asked, “Anyone asking for patient Alice Madsen? ... Uh-huh ... Thanks.”

  She replaced the receiver. “Ian’s out at reception.” She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “Come on. I’ll take you to a room where you can be alone with him until Miriam is available.”

  79

  Ian fidgeted in the Haven’s reception area. He had his phone on silent, which gave him the misplaced justification to ignore Paul’s incoming calls. There was a certain satisfaction gained from looking at the screen alert without feeling the pressing need to answer the call. It made him feel in control, but the feeling was false. The text message Paul sent required no sound. Where are you? We are waiting!!

  Ian swallowed as he contemplated a reply. Then he decided no response would be the be
st response. He grimaced as he thought about Jo. Be gentle with her. A lover scorned makes a vengeful enemy. What had he been thinking? But he knew the answer to that, even if there was solace in the thought Alice had contributed to the problem, however unwittingly. Best to park that metaphorical stolen car back in the garage before anyone knew it was missing.

  A woman entered the reception area and approached him. “Ian?” She offered her hand. “I’m Dr Eloise Traynor. I’ve been looking after Alice.”

  Ian stood and shook her hand. “Uh, hi. How is she?”

  “Badly shook. What happened to Alice was a very serious traumatic event. She’ll need your help as well as ours.”

  “Of course.”

  “Have a look at our website. There’s a section with advice for friends and family. Remember to listen to Alice. Believe her. She needs your support, not your solutions.”

  “I get it.”

  “Respect her decisions. Intimacy may be a delicate issue.”

  “That sure won't be a problem.”

  Eloise regarded him with a raised eyebrow for a moment, but she held door open for him and smiled. “I’m glad you understand. Not everyone does.”

  She led him into a room where Alice leaned against the wall and stared at the ground.

  Ian went to Alice and held her close. She clung to him and sobbed as Eloise left them. “Jeez, Alice. I don't know what to say.”

  “Neither do I.” Her voice was low and hoarse.

  “I shouldn't have gone to Birmingham. I’m sorry.”

  She stepped back from him and rubbed her eyes. “Why didn't you tell me about the window? The police told me.”

  “I...” He spread his hands wide. “...didn’t want to worry you. I thought it was something to do with the hash tags on social media.”

  “You should have told me. Is that why you gave me the mace?”

  He shook his head. “No. I got that before.”

  “Why? What happened then?”

  “Nothing. It was just the Twitter stuff.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  Ian rubbed his forehead. His shirt clung to him as the absence of air conditioning compounded the lingering effects of the previous night’s room service champagne. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay? But the mace worked, right?”

  Alice shook her head and backed away from him. “I don’t know what to think any more.”

  “What can I do to help you?”

  “Nothing.” She slumped into a chair. “My head’s a mess.”

  “Can they give you something?”

  “Pfft. You mean something to calm the hysterical woman?”

  “I don’t mean it like that.” He took a step towards her but stopped and shifted on his feet. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  She buried her head in her hands and rocked back and forth on the chair. Ian waited for her to say something, but minutes passed in silence while he stood and stared sat her.

  The door opened and Eloise entered. “Alice? Miriam is available now, if you want to follow me?”

  Alice stood and put her hand on Ian’s chest. “Thanks. I don't mean to be, you know...”

  Ian took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I understand.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve arranged for a locksmith to come to the house.”

  “The police have Flanagan, so it’s not that urgent, right?”

  “Supposing it’s not Flanagan? What if someone else has a copy of the keys?”

  Alice’s shoulders slumped. “Christ. Don't say that.”

  “Should I go? Just in case the locksmith arrives? Or would you prefer if I stayed?”

  She shook her head. “I can get a cab home.” She let his hand drop and walked out into the corridor. Ian went to follow, but Eloise motioned for him to stay.

  Several minutes later, Eloise returned. “It will be difficult for Alice.”

  “So I see. She’s all over the place. Almost as if she blames me.”

  “Has she spoken much about the previous incident? The one in Copenhagen 12 years ago?”

  Ian shook his head. “No. It’s like it never happened.”

  “Her faith in men is rock bottom now. Be patient. Alice is fragile. Hurting. She may well lash out and if so, you will likely bear the brunt of it. Your relationship with her would come under great strain.”

  Ian grimaced. “Great.”

  “I hope it’s strong enough to take it.”

  80

  As Alice glanced around the surgery, she couldn't help but think the doctor’s pleasant nature contrasted with the equipment. The sight of the raised stirrups made her want to bolt.

  Following courtesies and reassuring words, Dr Miriam Lambert asked Alice to go behind a screen, undress and put on a gown. Then Miriam directed her to the reclining chair with the stirrups.

  As Alice shifted onto the chair, her breathing increased. She felt her heartbeat rise. Miriam looked at her with concern. “Are you all right, Alice?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. But I want to do this.”

  “Good. You can stop any time. Remember that. You’re doing well, Alice.”

  Alice lay back in the chair and Miriam lowered it. When she took hold of Alice’s ankle and placed it in the stirrup, Alice tensed and gasped. Miriam looked up. “You’re doing great Alice. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

  Alice blinked back tears. She shut her eyes tight. But nothing could prevent the sound of ripping tape and fastening Velcro filling her head. As Miriam placed her other ankle in the stirrup, Alice had to fight hard to stop herself from kicking out. She took great deep breaths and opened her eyes. Perhaps the bright lights and medical environment would help.

  “Is it all right for me to continue Alice?”

  “Y… Yes.” It was almost a whisper.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. This may feel cold.”

  Alice gripped the sides of the chair. She arched her back and tried to think of anything to take her mind off Flanagan’s straps and gloved fingers. But when she felt the cold steel probe her, she pulled her hips back. “No. Please. No. It's just like...”

  “I’ll stop. It’s okay, Alice. Everything’s okay.” Miriam released her legs and set them down.

  Alice swung over to one side, put her feet on the ground and sobbed for several minutes. Then she spoke in faltering tones. “I’m s… sorry. I… feel so weak. So scared. And it’s getting worse… it’s… like I’m afraid of men. P… penetration terrifies me. That’s not normal, is it?”

  Miriam sat on a chair close by. She handed over a tissue, and Alice sniffled into it. “Don't worry Alice. I know how difficult it is. You are not weak. You are normal. It takes exceptional courage to do this. I could give you something to help. A Valium or Xanax?”

  Alice shook her head. “No. But thanks.” She snuffled and wiped her eyes. “Sorry. Oh God...” She stared at the ground. Her teeth dug into her lower lip so much it hurt. Once again, she held on tight to the edge of the chair. Minutes passed in silence, broken only by occasional footsteps passing on the other side of the door. Then she heard voices followed by low laughter from the corridor outside. Normal life walked by, oblivious to her problems.

  “Why don't you get dressed, Alice? We’ll talk more then.” Miriam rose from the chair, but Alice waved her hand.

  “Wait, please.” Alice nodded several times, more to herself than anything else. She released her grip on the seat and flexed her hands. With another deep breath, she raised her head and looked at Miriam. “I am not weak.” She sat upright and folded her arms. “I may be frightened, but I am strong. I will not let this control me. So come on. Let’s do this. And without the pills. I want to do this for myself.” She sat up on the chair and hooked her ankles into the stirrups herself. Then she lay back. “Okay, Doctor. Go ahead. Do whatever you have to do.”

  81

  The taxi dropped Alice off outside her house. She stopped at the gate and studied the street for suspicious characters. Then she hurried
to the front door and inserted the key into the latch. Before she opened the door, she glanced around again. A vehicle door slammed shut, and she felt a thump in her chest. She went to twist the key, but nothing happened. She looked around again and jabbed at the bell several times in rapid succession.

  Ian opened the door and she rushed in. “Christ,” she said. “I feel like a terrified child.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Horrible.” She shuddered at the memory. “But it’s over.” She took her phone from her bag and followed Ian into the kitchen.

  Ian looked at her and pulled on his ear.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “They let Flanagan go.”

  Alice’s eyes widened and she grabbed a hold of the counter. “Why?”

  “I spoke to Paul. An unpleasant conversation, however, it seems Mark Flanagan has an alibi. There is a plausible alternative, the police believe someone else got a copy of the keys and the alarm code during a viewing. Did the police call you?”

  “My mobile has been off all day.” The phone shook in her hand as she powered it on. When it beeped into life, there were several voice mails and texts, she listened to the message Kapoor had left.

  “Alice, It’s DS Meera Kapoor. I’m sorry, but we had to release Mark Flanagan. Can you call me when you get this? I’m off shift now, but I will leave my phone on.”

  Alice called her. It rang for a long time and Alice was about to give up when a groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

  “It’s Alice Madsen. You let the estate agent go?”

  Kapoor groaned on the other end. “Uh. Yeah. It wasn't him.”

  “So who was it?”

  “We don't know yet. We will try to identify him.”

  “How long will that take? I mean, what if he comes back?”

  “I’m sorry Alice, but I suggest you move somewhere safe for a few days.”

  “But we’ve changed the locks and the alarm code.”

  “Good. However, you're selling the house, so move out earlier.”

  “We’ve nowhere to go yet.”