Read Online Say You're Sorry by Michael Robotham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Robotham
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Detectives have forty-eight more hours.” He addresses Augie. “Mr. Shaw, you will be held in protective custody for a little longer but I’m going to ask that you be well looked after. In the meantime I want a full psychiatric report.”
Augie glances at his brief, wanting an explanation. Mr. Reddrop gives him a sad shrug.
“When can I go home?” he asks in a loud voice.
“You’re still under arrest.”
“But I want to go home.”
Augie is being led away between the two police officers. Victoria Naparstek tries to signal him.
“I’m going to be sick,” he says.
“Not here,” says the officer.
Outside the court, Victoria weaves between the waiting reporters in the foyer, looking for Reddrop. She intercepts him before the main doors. I don’t hear their conversation, but she’s clearly a persuasive woman.
“We can see him,” she says, slipping her arm through mine. “Augie won’t be transferred to prison until later in the day. He’s downstairs.”
Having emptied our pockets and signed the waivers, we are taken along a bleak corridor by a court security officer, who wears his set of keys like a sidearm. The door is unlocked. Augie is squatting on a bunk with his legs folded beneath him like a complicated pair of springs.
He wipes his cheeks and won’t look at Victoria as she takes a seat on the bench opposite.
Some psychologists will tell you that the most important word a patient speaks is the first one. Once events are related, everything that follows becomes a version of the same theme or an attempt to redress a mistake.
I don’t agree. I expect people to lie. I expect them to hide things. The truth is a movable feast. It comes out over time or emerges from the static or the facts that people can live with. Augie looks like a bird on a perch, his head cocked towards the lone window.
“If I’ve done this thing they should just kill me,” he says, scratching at his bandaged hands. “But I haven’t done this thing and I can’t stay in here because I’ll die anyway.”
Victoria reaches out, but Augie pulls away, shuddering.
“Lots of sperm go into making a baby but only one sperm makes it through to fertilize the egg,” he says. “The other sperm are trying to get there first, but they die, you know, they all die.”
“You’re not making sense,” says Victoria.
“The egg splits. Two sperm. That makes us twins.”
He’s talking about his brother.
“… cells replicate, atoms fire, the brain forms…”
Augie turns to me. “I’m just trying to keep people from dying.”
“What people?” I ask.
“If I die, how will I save them?”
His eyes are darting from side to side, dancing in his head.
“I raped a woman. You should have listened.”
“You didn’t rape anyone,” says Victoria.
“I raped five girls at school.”
“That’s not true.”
He stops and stares at me. “Are you here to kill me?”
“No.”
“You’ll kill me eventually.”
“No, I won’t.”
Victoria looks at me, hoping I can help. But as soon as I speak Augie reacts with instant hatred, almost snarling at me. Victoria steps back, frightened. “Are you taking your medication?”
Augie looks at his hands. “You say I have a chemical imbalance. That I suffer from hallucinations. But you’re wrong. What I hear is real.” His shoulders are hunched and a tiny vein throbs at the side of his neck. “I think I killed her.”
“Who?”
“The woman on the road.”
“What woman?”
He whispers in a little boy voice. “What was she doing there? She was standing in the middle of the road.” He looks from face to face. “I think I ran her over. I must have done. I couldn’t stop in time.”
My eyes meet Victoria’s. She shakes her head.
“What makes you think you hit this person?”
Augie wipes a strand of spit from the corner of his mouth. “I tried to swerve, but I think I heard a sound. That’s why the car went in the ditch. When I got out I looked for her. I called
Augie glances at his brief, wanting an explanation. Mr. Reddrop gives him a sad shrug.
“When can I go home?” he asks in a loud voice.
“You’re still under arrest.”
“But I want to go home.”
Augie is being led away between the two police officers. Victoria Naparstek tries to signal him.
“I’m going to be sick,” he says.
“Not here,” says the officer.
Outside the court, Victoria weaves between the waiting reporters in the foyer, looking for Reddrop. She intercepts him before the main doors. I don’t hear their conversation, but she’s clearly a persuasive woman.
“We can see him,” she says, slipping her arm through mine. “Augie won’t be transferred to prison until later in the day. He’s downstairs.”
Having emptied our pockets and signed the waivers, we are taken along a bleak corridor by a court security officer, who wears his set of keys like a sidearm. The door is unlocked. Augie is squatting on a bunk with his legs folded beneath him like a complicated pair of springs.
He wipes his cheeks and won’t look at Victoria as she takes a seat on the bench opposite.
Some psychologists will tell you that the most important word a patient speaks is the first one. Once events are related, everything that follows becomes a version of the same theme or an attempt to redress a mistake.
I don’t agree. I expect people to lie. I expect them to hide things. The truth is a movable feast. It comes out over time or emerges from the static or the facts that people can live with. Augie looks like a bird on a perch, his head cocked towards the lone window.
“If I’ve done this thing they should just kill me,” he says, scratching at his bandaged hands. “But I haven’t done this thing and I can’t stay in here because I’ll die anyway.”
Victoria reaches out, but Augie pulls away, shuddering.
“Lots of sperm go into making a baby but only one sperm makes it through to fertilize the egg,” he says. “The other sperm are trying to get there first, but they die, you know, they all die.”
“You’re not making sense,” says Victoria.
“The egg splits. Two sperm. That makes us twins.”
He’s talking about his brother.
“… cells replicate, atoms fire, the brain forms…”
Augie turns to me. “I’m just trying to keep people from dying.”
“What people?” I ask.
“If I die, how will I save them?”
His eyes are darting from side to side, dancing in his head.
“I raped a woman. You should have listened.”
“You didn’t rape anyone,” says Victoria.
“I raped five girls at school.”
“That’s not true.”
He stops and stares at me. “Are you here to kill me?”
“No.”
“You’ll kill me eventually.”
“No, I won’t.”
Victoria looks at me, hoping I can help. But as soon as I speak Augie reacts with instant hatred, almost snarling at me. Victoria steps back, frightened. “Are you taking your medication?”
Augie looks at his hands. “You say I have a chemical imbalance. That I suffer from hallucinations. But you’re wrong. What I hear is real.” His shoulders are hunched and a tiny vein throbs at the side of his neck. “I think I killed her.”
“Who?”
“The woman on the road.”
“What woman?”
He whispers in a little boy voice. “What was she doing there? She was standing in the middle of the road.” He looks from face to face. “I think I ran her over. I must have done. I couldn’t stop in time.”
My eyes meet Victoria’s. She shakes her head.
“What makes you think you hit this person?”
Augie wipes a strand of spit from the corner of his mouth. “I tried to swerve, but I think I heard a sound. That’s why the car went in the ditch. When I got out I looked for her. I called
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