The ARC Chronicles Collection

Chapter 9

Not wishing for any fuss, Eva slipped in a side entrance once the police had dropped her back at the hotel. Having only just called him, Eva was nonetheless unsurprised to find Gideon waiting in the lobby with Susan McFey, one of the other doctors from Worcester State.

Susan got up and embraced Eva. “You poor thing, are you all right?”

“Aside from an apparent case of retrograde amnesia, I don’t appear to be too bad. Crazy probably, according to the cops. They don’t appear to believe me at the moment. But physically, I’m fine.”

Gideon held back, remaining in his seat. Eva smiled a thank you to him. They both understood a woman who recently cried r**e would not be seen in public embracing another man the day after.

“You can take as much time off as you need, Eva. The hospital isn’t going anywhere.”

Eva accepted a glass of whiskey from Gideon and eyed it cautiously. “Oh for God’s sake, if I start looking at every glass of liquor like it’s full of poison, I’ll end up exactly the same as any other victim.” With that, she downed it.

“Better?”

Eva smiled. “Much. But no more. That’s what got me into this in the first place.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Gideon rose and put his coat on. “Eva, I’m glad to see you are all right, but the hospital needs me, at least. You just get in touch when you want to come in.”

Gideon left without another word. Susan leaned forward.

“Want to talk about it?

“I wish I could, Sue, but I can’t remember. I have no memory of last night past leaving this lobby and heading to a bar. Moynagh’s I think it was. Beyond that, the first thing I can remember is getting out of the shower.”

“And you are sure it was r**e? Drugged r**e?”

Eva reached up to rub her forehead, squeezing the skin between thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. I was sure it was at first. What else could it be? The funny thing is while my mind, through being screwed with, still screams r**e, my body doesn’t. It doesn’t feel forced. If anything, it feels as though I enjoyed it.”

“Well, do you want to take a walk up to that bar and see if we can find anything out?”

“No, the police are doing that. Honestly, all I want to do is go up to my room and lie down. Take a bit of rest.”

“Well at the least let me see you safely upstairs.”

Eva stood and embraced her friend. “No, I’m fine. You go on back to the hospital. They need you there.”

Eva left her colleague in the lobby and made her way to her room. Despite the warning of the police, Eva had purposefully not returned her room key and checked the floor was empty before she unlocked the door and squeezed between the crime scene tape into her room.

The bedclothes had been completely stripped, and it was evident the room had been thoroughly picked over. Closing the door, Eva sat on the bare mattress, trying to puzzle out any clue about what had happened to her. There was nothing. Her memories ended at the bar the night before, and began again in the shower, as cleanly as if a surgeon had removed them with a scalpel. And whoever it was had her cell number.

Eva reached for her phone. The barrage of messages from Brian had grown desperate, promises mixed with threats. He wouldn’t stand a chance if the cops saw them. There was nothing else. The phone rang as Eva was gazing into space, and she jumped.

“Mrs. Ross? This is Detective Svinsky.”

“That was quick. Do you have anything for me?”

A pause. “There have been some… developments.” The voice was cautious, not telling the whole story. “Look, are you available to come back in? Say in about three hours?”

“Sure, if you need me. I can’t add anything to what I said earlier though.”

“Perhaps we can, Mrs. Ross. I will see you later; will you need a car.”

“No thanks. I’ll be fine.”

The phone clicked off with no more wasted words. Eva lay back on the bed, determined to get at least a couple of hours of rest before the next ordeal.

Three hours later, Eva walked along the sidewalk between the hotel and the police headquarters. Refreshed and clean, she at least felt equal to the task of being grilled once more. As before, she was ushered into the ‘victim room’ as she had come to call it, and was asked to wait.

After a short while, Svinsky and Caruso entered the room, document-packed folders in their hands.

“Thank you for coming back, Mrs. Ross,” began Detective Svinsky. “There have been some developments in your case.”

“So quickly?”

“It happens sometimes. We can get lucky, or as things stand, much less so.”

“What do you mean?”

Svinsky looked to her colleague and Detective Caruso continued. “We have taken DNA samples from the room you were so quick to reoccupy. It seems the two of you had quite the night together. The samples were all over the room.”

“If you say so. Go on, Detective.”

Caruso shuffled through the folder in front of him. “Well, that is where the trail goes cold. We have access to the CODIS database, which has the DNA of most anybody that’s committed a serious crime, and when we run the sample, the search stalls.”

“You mean it can’t find the DNA of whoever did this?”

“No, Mrs. Ross. The search freezes. It is almost as if the system itself doesn’t want to find the target.”

“Like it is forgetting what it is doing.”

“Yes, you could look at it that way. That is the least of our problems, though. We have been to the bars around the area, the most prominent being Moynagh’s on the corner of Waldo and Exchange street. The owner remembers you. He said you ordered a…” Caruso flicked through his notes. “Passion Plunge. Do you remember this?”

“No, Detective Caruso. I can’t remember a thing about last night. Nothing has changed from earlier.”

“Well, would it interest you to know this is now another crime scene? A large blood stain was found on the floor. There is no evidence of a struggle, nor is there any sign of a body. Now, we have you accusing a mystery assailant of r**e, and what appears to be a murder, happening within blocks of each other, and you have been in both places on the same night. Do you have any opinion on that?”

“Sounds like a dreadful coincidence to me.”

Caruso gave her a look that made it abundantly clear he didn’t believe her. “Mrs. Ross, I do not believe in coincidence. Nor luck, fate or any other deterministic concept. I believe in facts and logic. The facts here are firstly you were in this bar at some point yesterday evening, and there is a large blood stain no more than a day old in the same establishment. Later that night, you and an, a yet unidentified male, had s*x in the Hilton Garden Inn. You claim you were r***d, and yet there was no sign of anything other than two people enjoying themselves. Extensively. Logic dictates from these facts there is no suggestion you were r***d at all, and yet, you claim that you were.”

The very idea the detective was trying to turn this around on her made Eva want to reach out and slap him. As she opened her mouth to retort, Detective Svinsky, who had clearly sensed the same thing, stepped in.

“I think what my colleague is getting at, Mrs. Ross, is that despite all the facts we have here,” she emphasised the word ‘facts’ with no attempt at hiding the glare for Detective Caruso, “we are waiting on your memory to return.”

“And what about the DNA? You have this record of the man in my room, yet you don’t seem to be able to use it to identify him.”

“We will keep trying to reference the database, Mrs. Ross,” said a calmer Detective Caruso. “As futile as it is, you are still the key to all of this. All we can ask is you don’t leave the city until this is concluded.”

“I will be staying at the Hilton until further notice, in that same room. Unless you are in the habit of arresting victims, which it appears you to want do; that is where you will find me.”

“Good to know. Just one more thing if I may, Dr Ross?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever come across the term ‘Prosopamnesia’?”

Eva thought for a second. “Yes, I brushed over it in one of my courses. It is the inability to recognise or remember faces. It is extremely rare, having been diagnosed in only two cases. I don’t remember who they were, though.”

Caruso gave her a level stare. “That is not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. It is a very serious condition and no, I am not suffering from it. You may as well allege I have Asperger’s or Parkinson’s disease for all this is going to help you.”

Eva rose to leave and, without looking back, headed for the door. She heard a murmured ‘thank you’ from behind her as she let the door close in her wake.

Outside the station, it was all Eva could do not to scream aloud. The frustration that had been simmering all day was close to boiling over. Clenching her hands, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It was early evening again, only twenty-four hours since she had left her husband and his makeshift prison behind her. What had stopped her from telling the police all about Brian she did not know. Perhaps deep down, she still felt a glimmer of loyalty towards a man that had shown her none. That very thought made her feel guilty. He had treated her like dirt and she was still worrying over him.

The street was crowded. It looked to Eva like a gathering of one of those ‘flash mobs’ that were currently all the rage. She half expected everybody to break into a mass dance, but the passersby kept on moving. Eva realized in the detached reality of the hospital, being so close to home, she had never realized just how busy the center of the city would be. She had never had any cause to come in before, with out of town shopping malls and giant grocery stores practically on her doorstep. The effect was somewhat unnerving.

Seeking a place of refuge, Eva spied a restaurant with a sign reading ‘Club Maxine’. Feeling a sudden near-overwhelming need for food, she ducked out of the pedestrian traffic and into the restaurant. It was a high-class establishment, but Eva was too hungry to care. The only other occupants were a blonde woman in one corner near a grand piano, and a bored-looking waiter.

The waiter ambled over. “Help you, miss?”

“Do you have anything quick to eat?”

“Bunch of bar snacks, some fries, maybe a few things cooked up early for the evenin’. Any of that sound good to you?”

“It all sounds great. I’m starving.”

“Okay, miss. I’ll get right on it. Beer for you while you wait?”

The previous night’s events left a sour taste in her mouth when it came to alcohol. Whatever else had happened, she had definitely drunk more than she had in years. “No, thank you. I would like a soda, please.”

The waiter nodded and moved off to see to the order. Eva found herself a seat at a table near the large window that looked out onto the sidewalk, and the rushing public. She felt a little safer behind the protection of the glass.

The room was warm, and Eva found herself drooping while waiting for the food. She jumped awake when the waiter placed her soda at her side.

“Won’t be long, miss. Food’s almost done.”

“Thank you.”

The jump had made Eva a little more alert, and she surveyed the premises while she waited. The blonde lazed around on a sofa, an untouched glass of champagne at her side. Something about the woman tugged at Eva’s memory. She felt as though she had seen the woman before, but she couldn’t place her.

Feeling emboldened by her recent encounter with the detectives, Eva started to approach the woman when a shadow fell across her from the other side of the glass. The blonde woman was now looking at her, no, past her, at whatever was blocking the light, a strange smile of satisfaction on her face.

Not interested, Eva began to rise, and there was a tap on the glass. Eva turned, and her stomach tightened. There was no avoiding it, no escaping this particular threat. On the other side of the glass loomed her husband.