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Identity Check Chapter 22 |
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"New account
processing, Patrick Kavanagh speaking." "Hello, sweet
thing." Patrick stared in horror
at his work phone. So far David had never called him at work to harass him.
The number that came up was unfamiliar. Probably a pay phone. It was
one-thirty in the afternoon so maybe he was in a restaurant with some
colleagues or clients and had taken five minutes out for a quick harassing
phone call. A full time job and a campaign of harassment require good
time-management skills. "You're a lying
whore," David said, his tone almost conversational. As if he'd just
called to remind Patrick of that fact. "Who fucked you last night?" "Shut up!" A
few people at nearby desks stared at him. Phil frowned, worried looking.
Patrick took a breath and spoke more quietly. "You're crossing a
line here. This is my workplace!" "You crossed a line
when you crossed me, boy. You'll regret it the rest of -" Patrick slammed the phone
down. Shit, shit, shit. Not here. He couldn't have this going on here. "Pat," Phil
said, softly. When Patrick looked at him he mouthed "David?" Patrick nodded. Shit, his
hands were shaking. Phil got up and came and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go and get a
cup of tea, eh?" "No... I... I'm
going to talk to Gwen." Patrick stood and, aware of the people watching
him, crossed the office to Gwen's desk. She was on the phone and he waited
with little patience, fidgeting. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw Phil
had gone back to his desk, but was still watching him. Gwen hung up and
turned to Patrick. She didn't smile, responding to his grim expression. "What can I do for
you, Patrick?" "I need to talk to
you," he said. "Somewhere private, please." She glanced around, and
said, "Follow me." She led him to an empty office and sat at the
desk. Though she waved him to a chair, Patrick didn't sit, too wound up.
"What's wrong?" "I need..." He
hated how much his voice was shaking, with anger he couldn't control.
"Can the telecoms department block a number... well a few numbers it had
better be, from coming through to my phone?" "Yes, they can do
that. What's going on, Patrick? Whose number are you talking about? "It's... an
ex-boyfriend. He's... sort of obsessed." "I see." She
looked at him sympathetically and he thanked God for a woman boss. He
couldn't have said this to a man. "He's harrassing you?" Patrick nodded.
"It's been going on over a month. I've had to change my mobile number,
block him from my email... I thought he'd get tired of it, but he
hasn't." "Is he the one who
beat you up?" "Yes," Patrick
whispered, looking away, ashamed. Her sympathy was both welcome and
humiliating at the same time. "All right,"
she said. "Give me the numbers you need blocked and I'll put the request
through." "Thanks, Gwen. I
don't know how much it will help. He could call from any other number." "Use your voice
mail," she said. "That means he gets no reaction from you when he
calls. With that type of person every reaction just encourages them to
continue." "You sound like
you've dealt with this before." "More than
once," she said. "A couple of the girls have gone through the same
thing with stalkers." "I'm sorry for all
the trouble. I just don't know how to make him stop." "Have you gone to
the police?" "I'm thinking about
it." He couldn't help but think about it now. David wouldn't stop. Gwen
took down the numbers and Patrick went back to his desk, the word 'stalker'
going around his head. Phil looked at him curiously. "What did Gwen
say?" "She's sorting
it." "Was she... okay
about it?" "She was fine."
He shook his head. "I still can't get used to that, you know, people
being fine about me, us." "Don't worry,"
Phil said, with a grimace. "You'll meet enough who aren't fine to make
sure you don't get used to it." * Patrick woke to the sound
of a door closing and then some voices. Was it morning? Couldn't be, too
dark. He picked up his phone by the bed to find it wasn't even three o'clock.
He pulled his bathrobe over the T-shirt and pyjama trousers he wore and left
his room to find Colin and Nick both in Nick's room. They were in the dark
and looking out of the window. "Is something going
on?" Patrick asked, suppressing a yawn. "There's someone
outside in the garden," Colin whispered. "What?" Patrick
hurried over to join them looking out into the front garden. "I don't
see anything." "Keep watching the
beech tree," Colin said. "Er... which one's
the beech?" Patrick said. There were two trees in the garden but he just
called then Basil and Sybil. Their species had never occurred to him. "The one on the
left," Nick said. Patrick watched and
gasped when he saw the movement. "You're right! Is it a burgler? Should
we call the police?" "It might just be a
drunk having a piss," Colin said. "He's been there too
long for that," Nick said. "Anyway, I don't want drunks pissing on
our trees." "So are we calling
the police?" Patrick asked. "Let's just chase
him off," Colin said. "We are three strapping young men, you
know." "You
want to go out there?"
Nick said. "He could be a hatchet wielding loony!" "You've been
watching too many horror movies," Colin said. "Still... tell you
what." He opened the window and called out, "Hey, you out there,
piss off out of it, or we'll call the police." Opening the window must
have activated the sensor for the light over the front door. It came on and
showed up the man standing under the tree. Patrick gasped and Colin swore. David. Patrick ran, out
of Nick's room, down the stairs, Colin and Nick chasing after him. "Wait, Pat,
wait!" Nick called, but Patrick ignored him, flung open the front door
and ran outside. David stood on the path now, perhaps on his way to the gate. "What the hell are
you doing here?" Patrick yelled. "Prowling around like a fucking
lunatic!" "It's a free
country," David said. "I can go anywhere I like." "This garden is
private property," Nick said, coming outside. He and Colin stood on
either side of Patrick. "Yeah," Colin
said, "So get the hell out of it!" "Fine." David
stepped out of the gate, closed it, then leaned on it, smirking. "I'm on
a public street now." "I'm calling the
police," Nick said. "Forget the
police," Colin said. "Let's just kick his head in." "Why won't you leave
me alone?" Patrick shouted at David, trembling, rage and fear vying for
the upper hand. "What do I have to do to make you stay the fuck away
from me?" "You shouldn't have
crossed me, sweet thing. Nobody crosses me and gets away with it." "And beating the
shit out of him wasn't enough payback?" Nick said, taking a step
forward, Colin doing the same. "That was only the
start." David smirked. "By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me
either to take you back or kill you." "That was a fucking
death threat!" Colin yelled. "And we all heard it! You are going to
jail, pal!" "Keep your nose out
of it," David snarled. "This is between me and the whore." Nick surged forward, but
Patrick grabbed his arm to restrain him. "Just... just
stop!" Patrick shouted at David. "Stop emailing me. Stop calling me
at work, stop calling this house. And if you're still calling my old mobile
number, you're wasting your time, because I had to buy a new one after you
fucking smashed it! You owe me money for that!" "You're lucky I
didn't shove it down your throat. New number eh?" He smiled. "Good
to know. I'll find that out. And you still owe me for the damage to my
car." "I never touched
your fucking car!" "Ooh, nice acting, I
almost believed you. Of course, all the practice you get at lying..." He
stopped and glanced behind him, then straightened up suddenly as a flashing
blue light appeared. "Aw, did you boys call the policemen to come and
protect you." They hadn't, so one of
the neighbours must have done. David made no attempt to leave. He waited by
the gate until the car stopped and two policemen approached. "Officers, my name
is David King." He handed over his driving licence from his pocket, and
one of the officers studied it and made a note. "I'm sorry, things got a
bit loud here." "This guy was prowling,"
Colin yelled, pointing at David. "And making threats." "He's a
lunatic," Nick joined in. "He's stalking Patrick. And he beat him
up!" "Everybody quiet
please," the policeman with sergeant's stripes said as he came into the
garden. "I want names from you three." He wrote them down when they
gave them. "You all live here? Right, what's this about?" He looked at David first,
who'd come into the garden with him, while the other officer stood at the
gate. "He was
prowling!" Colin yelled. "I'm sorry,"
David said, voice calm and level. "It's my fault. I really shouldn't
have come over so late." "Why did you?"
the sergeant asked.
Patrick could only gape
at David as if he'd been replaced by some sort of clone of himself. This
was... well, it was the David he thought he'd known before he'd seen the
other side. Too astonished to refute what David was saying, he could only
stammer when the sergeant looked at him. "Is this true, Mr...
Kavanagh?" "What? No! I mean,
yes we were..." He blushed, wanting to vanish into the darkness rather
than speak to a policeman about this. "I don't have any of his stuff!
Anything I had, even gifts, I sent back!" "It doesn't
matter," David said, a touch of sadness in his voice now. "He's
probably sold them by now. Colin's quite the eBay expert. I hope you got a
good price." Colin just spluttered in reply, as wrong-footed as Patrick
by David's change of demeanour and control of the situation. Control. That was key.
Patrick, Colin and Nick were wound up and furious and doing themselves no
favours by yelling and making incoherent accusations. David meanwhile
appeared calm and reasonable. Even their clothes - David actually had a suit
on - while the three of them wore nightclothes and had bed hair. Pretty
obvious who the police would take more seriously. "I'm sure you need
the money more than me, Patrick," David said, his voice full of pity
now. "I'm sorry I bothered you." "Bothered me? You've
been bothering me for weeks!" "He's been calling
and emailing," Nick said to the Sergeant. "Following him! He beat
him up!" David shook his head.
"Patrick, you know, lying to me is one thing, but lying to your cousin,
that's pretty low." "What about these
personal items?" The sergeant said to Patrick. "Have you still got
some Mr King's property?" "No! And I haven't
sold any of it either. He's lying. And he did beat me up!" The policeman
looked at him, presumably looking for bruises. "It was a few weeks
ago." "And you didn't
report it at the time?" "No... I..." "We saw his
bruises," Nick said. "Both of us. And a guy called Ray Bennett,
he'll tell you the same." "He probably picked
the wrong man up and got a hiding," David said, that fake pity in his
eyes again. "He likes it kind of rough. Probably got it rougher than he
could handle and was too embarrassed to admit that to his friends." This time Nick had to
grab Patrick's arm to hold him back as the policeman stepped between Patrick
and David. "That's enough of
that. Mr King, do you want to press charges about the missing items?"
Patrick, Nick and Colin burst into an outraged and incoherent babble of
protest, until the sergeant glared at them to be quiet. "Mr King?" "No, I'll just leave
it. I just want to put all of this behind me now." He sighed. The
sergeant nodded. "Then we'll write
this up as a domestic disturbance and say no more about it." "And what about
Patrick pressing charges?" Nick demanded. "Assault! Harassment!
What about that?" Everyone was looking at
Patrick suddenly, but David's eyes held his attention most. Daring him. Yes,
daring him to try it. Try it and see this same scene played out in court,
with a defence barrister pushing Patrick into an even more agitated and
incoherent state than David was managing now. Patrick didn't take the dare. "No," he said.
"Let's just end this now. End it and I won't press any charges." Did David get the
message? Or was his behaviour too compulsive for him to control? But what
else could Patrick do? It was clear whose side the police were taking here. "Right." The
sergeant wrote some notes, then looked at David. "On your way now,
sir." "Of course. I'm so
sorry for the trouble. It won't happen again." He hurried off and the
other policeman went with him to his car. "And you
three," the sergeant said. "If we're called again for a
disturbance, you'll all be cautioned at least. Now be good lads and keep
quiet." "Yeah, keep quiet
about the rich bastard who beat Pat up and is getting away with it!" Nick's
voice rose as he spoke and the sergeant scowled and started reaching for his
notebook again. "No!" Patrick
grabbed Nick's arm and pulled him back towards the house. "Leave it,
Nick, please. Just leave it. It's over." Aggravating the police could only
lead to more trouble. "Come on. Come inside, please." "Best do as he
says," the sergeant said. Under the authoritative scowl Nick and Colin
slowly and reluctantly turned and headed back into the house. Patrick followed them, wincing as he walked
up the path and step. He'd been too upset to notice until now that he'd come
out in bare feet. As soon as Patrick closed
the door, Nick burst out, "I cannot believe that just happened!" "Quiet!"
Patrick snapped. "They're still out there. Come on. Let's go into the
kitchen." They trooped in there and
Patrick started setting up the coffee machine while Nick and Colin crashed
around getting mugs and milk and sugar, then they stood around waiting for
the machine to brew, its gurgles loud in the heavy silence of their grim
brooding. "You know, on
reflection," Colin said after a couple of minutes, "we could have
handled that a bit better." Patrick laughed and felt
a little afraid, because he didn't think he could stop without crying. Nick
and Colin were laughing too, the same hysterical and relieved edge to the
sound. The reaction spent itself in less than a minute and they quietened
down. "Try to look on the
bright side," Colin said. "Maybe he'll learn a lesson from tonight.
Yeah, he took control out there; but he must know he was lucky. Next time it
might not go his way." "And it's on record
now," Nick said. "Even if nothing is happening now, what you said
about him attacking you and about the stalking, it's all on record." The S word, stalking.
Suddenly they were using it. Not a comparison, not 'like stalking'. Actual
stalking. What else did you call it when the bastard was lurking in your
garden at three in the morning? "For all the good
that does me," Patrick said. "Well, maybe you're right, Colin,
maybe this will scare him off. But maybe he's too nuts for that. He wouldn't
have started this if he was normal would he?" "Can
he really be actually crazy?" Colin asked. "Yes," Patrick
said. "I looked into his eyes when he was about to rape me and maybe
kill me, and yes... yes, he's that crazy." "He was going to
rape you?" Nick's voice was quiet and appalled, his face pale with
shock. Patrick winced at saying that, upsetting Nick that way. But that
moment came back to him now and he saw the darkness behind David's eyes. "I'm pretty sure he
was going to try. Until I punched him in the nuts." "Now that,"
Colin said. "I'd have paid to see." |
© E Charles 2009