Читать книгу They - SLMN - Страница 12
ОглавлениеFor the second time in as many days, Melissa was in the police station. Given her history with the place and the people in it, she did not feel comfortable. At least this time they weren’t keeping her locked in a cell or beating her up on the floor.
Also she had her phone back, and they allowed her to use it. The police had pulled it from a shelf in Tim Barns’s basement. Presumably her kidnapper intended to plant the phone and other items of hers around the house to further implicate the Senator. She guessed someone would tell the police where she was and they’d come and rescue her from Tim’s basement long after she’d been left alone there. Tim would come home into the middle of a crime scene and they’d arrest him immediately. Since she would never have met or spoken to him, she would have no way of knowing whether or not he was involved in her kidnapping. The poor guy could have ended up in jail.
Melissa resented being a pawn in someone else’s game to discredit a state senator. She had no clue who was behind it, nor what Barns had done to piss them off. She did know that using her as the victim sent her a clear message: get out of the country now. She wanted to comply. The irony was that if they hadn’t kidnapped her, she’d be back in Toronto by now. She responded to Jasmine’s deluge of messages by explaining what had happened and that she was safe, relatively speaking. Her agent offered to rebook her flight for the next day. Melissa told her to hold off for now.
Okay, you let me know when you’re ready to go home. I’ve booked the same hotel for tonight.
Melissa texted back her thanks. Next she texted a bunch of assurances to her frantic mother, telling her to please not worry and concentrate on getting herself better.
Shania was next, her best friend keen to know she was okay but far more practical than her mother. Shania was usually the voice of reason in Melissa’s life.
Next she checked a local news site and was unsurprised to see Barns’s face next to hers all over the main pages. All called the incident bizarre, and the tone ranged from assuming Barns was having an affair with her to asking why she was found in the senator’s basement and did she know some dark secret of his. If his dark secret was that he had a messy basement then Melissa was happy to reveal it.
Only one paper, the Richmond Times-Dispatch, carried a picture of Tim being led from his home with his cuff-free hands in the air, and bothered to follow up with the police to discover they had pressed no charges and that her kidnappers were still at large.
The numbers of tweets, comments and messages on her various accounts were now off the scale. She’d never had so much publicity. Normally she would love the attention, but right now she’d trade it all for one more day with Howie.
She scanned a selection of public opinion.
Jones will do anything for publicity #attentionwhore So will Barns. Bet they cooked up the whole thing.
#blacklivesmatter is all talk and marching with no real action. Why can’t they keep @MelissasMoment safe?
Oh sure, @MelissasMoment just HAPPENED to wind up tied up in @StateSenTimBarns basement. What’s wrong with this picture?
Now we know why Barns wife left him
*HUGS* to @MelissasMoment. After what she went through her head is still held high.
Damn girl! That’s a rough couple of days you’ve gotten there.
Tonight we march on Richmond again. Spineless @MelissasMoment would rather hide away and cry. #marchwithus #blacklivesmatter #justiceforhowie
That last Tweet really bothered Melissa. She was used to wild conspiracy theories and personal attacks. She could dismiss threats of death and rape, and insults about her looks, her race and her family. But to call her a coward filled her with rage. Yeah it was just one comment from some guy who didn’t know her, probably had never heard of her before yesterday and clearly cared more about his cause than the people affected by violence, but it made her blood boil.
The door opened and in walked the female officer who had escorted her from the station the day before. Pleased to see at least one person who held some sympathy for her predicament, Melissa asked the officers name.
“Mulligan, Miss Jones. Officer Mulligan. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Thanks, but I’d rather leave.”
“Won’t be long now. I have to check a couple of things with you and then you’re free to go. Ten minutes tops, is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back with my notes and that coffee.”
It didn’t take long for Mulligan to return. The coffee was too hot and very bitter, but Melissa drank it anyway.
“I just wanted to confirm you didn’t see any faces of the men who kidnapped you.”
“That’s right.”
“So there’s no point in looking through this.” She placed a heavy binder of suspect photographs to one side. “I do need to ask you the nature of your relationship with Senator Barns.”
Melissa blinked.
“I don’t have a relationship with him,” she said. “First time I met him was in his basement when he surprised the kidnapper and then cut me loose.”
“Oh, well, it’s just that the officers present saw you stand up for him. They assumed you two were…”
Melissa shook her head. “No no, nothing like that. I just didn’t want him to get in trouble. It was pretty obvious someone set him up and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t arrested after he saved me.”
“That’s very brave of you.”
Melissa didn’t reply. Officer Mulligan smiled at her.
“Now, when the men bundled you into the car, one of them said something to you. Can you confirm what it was?”
“He said I was told not to tell anyone.”
“About what?”
“About what happened with Howie I guess, I’m not really sure.”
“And who told you not to tell anyone?”
Melissa just stared at her.
“Oh,” said Mulligan, looking flustered. “I’m… I’m sorry about that.”
“Was I kidnapped by police officers?” Melissa demanded.
“No, no I don’t think so.”
“Then how did they know what the police told me not to talk to anyone about Howie?”
“I… don’t know.” The officer seemed distressed, much more upset than the victim sitting in front of her.
“Can I go now?”
“Er, yes. Yes that should be fine. I’ll process your release. Do you want police protection?”
“Do you think I want police protection?”
“Well, probably not but I have to ask.”
“Quite frankly I’d rather take my chances with the kidnappers. Nothing personal.” She added, “You’ve been nice to me. Thanks.”
Mulligan nodded weakly.
“Let’s get you out of here,” she said.
There was no taxi waiting for her this time, but the press was out in force. She had to get to the rank further down the street, which meant pushing through the photographers and microphones and questions firing at her from all sides. Nobody had warned her to keep quiet before she left this time, presumably because they felt the kidnapping made that point already.
Melissa was having none of it. She stopped, ignoring the pushing throng of people thrusting mikes in her face.
“Where’s the Times-Dispatch?” she asked.
A female reporter raised her hand, in which she grasped her press pass.
“Harriet Fletcher, Times-Dispatch. Hi Miss Jones, thanks for talking to me. Can you confirm that you were found by Senator Tim Barns earlier this evening, tied up in his basement?”
“That’s correct,” she answered. “He rescued me.”
“Rescued you from whom?”
“I don’t know,” Melissa replied. “Some men grabbed me off the street. They kept me in the back of a van for hours and then took me to what turned out to be Senator Barns’s basement. If the Senator hadn’t returned home earlier than expected, I don’t know what would have happened. He scared off my kidnapper and set me free. Then the police arrived.”
“Have you ever met Senator Tim Barns before today?”
“Never. I’m from Canada so I don’t know much about US politicians. I’d never even heard of him before today.”
“Will you be staying in Richmond or heading home now?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t decided.”
“One more question, Miss Jones. Do you have any idea why you were tied up in Senator Barns’s basement?”
“I have no idea. Thanks, I’d like to get on.”
Fletcher thanked her and she and her photographer stepped aside. The others continued to push in close, however, photographers snapping pictures and shouting at her to look up and to “smile”, which pissed her off. She didn’t feel much like smiling, the insensitive jerks. She was finding it hard to breathe. She couldn’t see where she was going and it was hard to walk.
Suddenly there was a new man to her left. He carried no microphone or camera. He was large, black and wearing a #blacklivesmatter t-shirt. Then there was another to her right. Both were big enough to hold back the press to give her space to walk. Another three or four, some men, some women, all black people wearing the same shirts, moved in to surround her. They didn’t say anything, they didn’t try to steer her in any direction, they simply held back the crush and followed her lead. Melissa thanked them as she reached the first in a line of taxis.
“Wilson would love you to join us on our march later this evening,” one of the women said.
“Did he send you guys to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank him for me, and thank you!” She meant it. “Please tell Wilson that I still don’t feel ready to march, but it’s nice that he’s thinking of me.”
She got in the taxi and gave the name of her hotel, then left them all on the street.
