Читать книгу Maggie Jamieson Crime Thriller - Noelle Holten - Страница 10

Robert Millard was what was known in the criminal justice arena as a domestic abuse perpetrator. Each agency used a lot of different acronyms, which Lucy found hard to keep track of at the best of times.

She was currently supervising Robert on a two-year suspended sentence order, after a judge felt his years of sustained abuse against his estranged wife more than warranted the threat of custody if he breached the imposed requirements. Robert’s wife, Louise, was also granted an indefinite restraining order – which meant that he could have no contact with her unless it was removed.

Lucy made her way to the reception area and called out for Robert. He looked exhausted and unkempt as he dragged his feet and followed her into the interview room designated for the riskier, more volatile offenders. Pointing at the chair across from her, Lucy asked Robert to sit down.

‘Why are we in here? We usually go upstairs.’

She could feel the paranoia and edginess emanating from him as she asked him again to sit down; the last thing she wanted was for Robert to be standing up when she confronted him with the information she now had. She waited as he pulled the chair out and sat down.

‘Do you want to tell me what happened the other night, Robert?’ Lucy had learnt over the years that if she gave her offenders the opportunity to come clean, they were less likely to lash out when challenged. She had been supervising Robert on and off for three years now and wanted him to be the one to tell her. This would also give her a better idea of where his risk status was at.

Robert’s face darkened. He clenched his fists tight and his eyes began to glaze over. Suddenly he snapped.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are, you fucking bitch?’ The spittle from his lips hit Lucy’s face like toxic raindrops. Grabbing a tissue from the drawer, Lucy wiped her face without losing eye contact with Robert. She’d not let him get the better of her.

Lucy raised her hands to her ears to lessen the painful sound of metal screeching as Robert pushed back his chair. He leapt towards the wall and Lucy cringed when she heard the crack of his knuckle as flesh met concrete.

‘You’re ruining my life! All you bitches are the same.’

Robert obviously wasn’t going to be forthcoming about the other night. Her hand hovered over the alarm button beneath the desk. Lucy glanced at the camera in the corner and was grateful that reception would be watching. Punching the wall was meant to intimidate her, but she wasn’t impressed. Robert paced the small room then grabbed the back of his chair.

‘Now what the fuck is going to happen to me?’

Lucy waited for his breathing to return to normal. ‘Are you through then, Robert?’ She let the question hang in the air and watched as he calmed down. He nodded his head.

‘Then take a seat and I’ll explain everything.’

Robert reluctantly sat down again, his eyes blazing. She could tell he wasn’t going to trust a word she said, and she prepared herself for another angry outburst.

‘Robert, you broke the conditions of your restraining order. That means, you also broke the requirements. What did you think was going to happen?’ Somehow she kept her voice icily calm.

‘She asked me to come over. Why am I the one getting into trouble?’ He almost sounded like a spoiled child.

‘You know why, Robert. I told you this. You signed the paperwork and said you understood what you were signing. Let’s not kid ourselves here: this is not the first order you’ve been on.’ Lucy cocked her head to the left and raised her eyebrows knowingly. ‘I explained to you that even if your ex-partner made contact, you were not to reply. Ignoring those instructions, you went to her house; you were drunk, you got angry, and you smashed a window—’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! She wound me up. She was drunk too. Rubbing it in my face that she has a new boyfriend that treats her better – fucking slag. How did she think I was going to react? I didn’t even touch her.’

This wasn’t the first time Lucy had heard this story. Day in and day out, it was always the same. Always someone else’s fault; always the alcohol or drugs that ‘made them’ do it. Not one of these men, or women, ever wanted to accept responsibility for their actions.

‘Look, I have no choice but to give you a warning. You know that. You’ve been charged with a further offence. My hands are tied.’ She pushed across the envelope with his warning letter inside.

‘Are you fucking serious?’ The chair flew back as he stood up and towered over her.

There was no way Lucy was going to let this dickhead take control. She pushed her own chair back calmly, stood face to face with him and looked him directly in the eyes.

‘Whoa, whoa – you need to calm down, Robert. I don’t want to have to push the panic button; there’s no need for you to stand over me like that. Can’t you see how your behaviour could be viewed as threatening?’

Robert once again grabbed his chair but this time he sat back down almost immediately, and Lucy watched his chest rise and fall as he took deep breaths to control his temper.

‘Sorry, miss, but it just seems like every time I’m getting somewhere, it gets thrown back in my face and that pisses me off.’

There it was again. That whiny voice. For a moment it was Patrick sitting across from her. She sat back down.

‘Robert, it’s your actions that’ve caused all this. We’ve been here before. You need to stop and think about things first. You have your group programme coming up soon. You’ll learn some more techniques that will help you recognize the triggers and avoid reacting violently to situations that anger you. We’ve also discussed alcohol previously. And before you say that if you were sober, this wouldn’t happen – just remember, alcohol doesn’t make you do the things you do. You act this way because you choose to. You know you need to keep away from your ex.’

Lucy pointed at the warning letter in the hope that it would encourage Robert to read it. He jammed it into his back pocket unopened.

‘Are we done now?’ He stood up to leave.

‘Do you want to talk anymore about things? Maybe put a plan together in case the situation comes up again?’

‘Fuck that! I’m sick of that bitch getting me into trouble! Just give me my next appointment.’

‘It’s on your warning letter.’

Robert tried to storm out of the room as Lucy smirked behind his back – he needed her to use her swipe card to exit the room. The power was still hers.

‘Open the fucking door!’

‘Right, Robert! Lose the bloody attitude and calm down!’ If she wasn’t careful she’d find herself facing a complaint, but she was so fed up with these men and their controlling ways. Lucy swiped her card and let Robert back out into the reception area.

‘See you next week, Robert.’

Lucy couldn’t help but mutter ‘wanker’ under her breath. The receptionist briefly glanced up from her computer, and Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

There was no response from Robert, but she hadn’t expected one. She knew he was still pretty pissed off, so she made a note to call the domestic abuse team and flag Louise’s address. With Robert in this mood, there was no telling what he might do to his ex-wife.

Lucy needed caffeine to calm her nerves. Her job as a probation officer had her supervising some of the area’s most violent offenders and today was no different.

‘Hey, Lucy. Your hands are shaking, another tough session?’ Sarah asked as she made her way to the coffee machine. Sarah was a brilliant probation officer but also a very good friend.

‘Nah, just the usual, Sarah.’

It wasn’t Robert Millard causing Lucy’s nerves to be on end. She knew that after work her parents and sister were coming around and she didn’t know what kind of mood Patrick would be in, considering he’d been still drunk before she’d left for work. Lucy wished she had the same confidence to deal with the situation at home as she did at work. Self-loathing crept over her as she put a false smile on her face to carry on with her day.

Sarah looked at her in such a way that Lucy wondered if she knew. She rubbed Lucy’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’