The Red Mohawk Page 13

  Dr Carter grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her arm away from Touretto. ‘No contact with the patient, please,’ she said softly. ‘For your own safety.’

  ‘Joey Conrad is mental,’ said Touretto.

  Dr Carter sighed. ‘Dominic, what have I told you about calling people mental?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Fonseca noticed that he had a slight discolouration around his left eye, like the last remains of a bruise.

  ‘What happened to your eye?’ she asked.

  Touretto reached up and touched the bruise by his eye. Dr Carter replied on his behalf.

  ‘Joey Conrad hit him.’

  ‘Why did he hit you?’ Fonseca asked, careful to make it look like she knew nothing about the assault and was merely showing concern for his well-being, a ploy that she hoped would coax more information out of him.

  ‘Because he’s a cunt.’

  ‘Pardon me?’

  ‘He’s a cunt.’

  Dr Carter once more interjected. ‘Dominic, what have I told you about calling people cunts?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Fonseca repeated her question. ‘So why did Joey Conrad hit you?’

  ‘Because he’s a motherfucker.’

  ‘Dominic!’ Dr Carter snapped.

  ‘A cocksucker.’

  ‘Dominic!’ Dr Carter’s voice lowered a touch and took on a far more authoritative tone. Touretto looked down at his feet and mumbled a barely audible apology.

  ‘So,’ said Fonseca. ‘Why did he hit you? Did he have a reason?’

  Touretto nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What was it?’

  Touretto glanced over at Dr Carter. ‘I can’t tell you in front of Dr Carter,’ he said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she’s a slut and a whore.’

  Fonseca sensed there was much more to Dominic Touretto than first appeared. She had taken a brief look at his confidential files on her cell phone while Dr Carter was leading her up to his room. She hadn’t delved deep enough to establish his character though, only the crimes he had committed.

  ‘This is normal behaviour for him,’ said Dr Carter. She seemed unfazed by it, or at least she did a very good job of appearing to be desensitised to the unpleasant remarks.

  ‘Would you mind if I talked to Dominic in private for a moment?’ Fonseca asked.

  Dr Carter looked surprised. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’d like to speak with him privately, please.’

  Dr Carter shook her head. ‘What? No. Absolutely not. That’s out of the question.’

  ‘I just need to speak to him on my own. Only for a couple of minutes.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Carter. ‘I can’t let you do that. It’s against hospital rules.’

  ‘Hospital rules,’ Touretto repeated childishly.

  Fonseca edged closer to Dr Carter and whispered in her ear. ‘Let me speak with him in private or I’ll have you thrown in jail.’

  Dr Carter reeled back at the suggestion, her face revealing that she was shocked by the sudden threat that came totally out of left field. ‘You don’t have the authority to do that. Don’t make pathetic threats you can’t back up.’

  Fonseca smiled and fixed a confident stare on her. ‘You know nothing about what authority I have.’

  ‘I’m no fool Agent Fonseca. I know my rights. You can’t throw me in jail for doing my job. The FBI doesn’t have the power. I know enough about the FBI just from watching TV to know that.’

  ‘Well here’s the thing,’ said Fonseca. ‘I’m not really FBI. I’m about a hundred pay grades up from that. You know nothing about me, and I’ll bet my last dollar you don’t really know a damn thing about the FBI either. I, on the other hand know everything about you, Dr Carter, Dr Linda Carter, named after Wonder Woman because your father appeared as an extra in the seventies TV show of the same name. Linda Joan Carter, attended Bengville High School, passed your Psychology exam with a score of eighty-six percent, exactly the same score as your friend Julian Brockman who sat on your left during the exam. Attended Rockwell University and achieved an honours degree, awarded to you by the Dean, Cameron Vosselberg whom you dated for sixteen months, until you unceremoniously dumped him one month after receiving your degree…’

  ‘I’ll wait outside,’ said Dr Carter. ‘You’ve got two minutes. Not a second more.’

  ‘I’ll take as long as I fucking like,’ said Fonseca firmly, pointing to the door.

  Dr Carter blushed a bright red colour. She was visibly flustered but had wisely decided not to hang around. Hardly surprising, really. She knew that Fonseca hadn’t even got down to the really dubious elements of her past.

  As soon as Dr Carter was outside, Fonseca closed the door firmly behind her and turned her attentions back to Dominic Touretto. He was sitting on his bed looking rather sheepish as if he knew what was coming next. Fonseca pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She flicked through a few menus until she found some files on Touretto. Her researcher at headquarters had messaged through a bullet point summary of facts about Touretto. Very interesting facts. There was also a brief message to advise that something else was coming soon. Fonseca smiled broadly then put the phone back in her pocket.

  ‘Were you impressed by how I dealt with Dr Carter?’ she asked.

  Touretto nodded. ‘Dr Carter smells. You dealt with her real good.’

  Fonseca stood motionless, establishing dominance over him by standing tall in front of him, trying to make him feel uneasy. He fidgeted uncomfortably, for the most part avoiding eye contact.

  ‘So you’re Dominic Touretto,’ she said.

  ‘Dominic Touretto,’ he repeated in the same childish voice he had used when repeating Dr Carter previously.

  ‘And you’re a comedian. Am I right?’

  He looked up at her and finally made eye contact. For the first time she saw signs of life in his eyes. He wasn’t playing dumb any more. She’d grabbed his attention, albeit fleetingly. As if realising he’d revealed too much with his body language he quickly switched back to the confused, shifty, uncomfortable persona from before.

  ‘You enjoy taking the mickey out of authority, don’t you Dominic?’ she continued.

  ‘Authority. Yes. Yes.’

  ‘Fun isn’t it? Especially when the authority is oblivious to what you’re doing. But the big laugh comes when the penny drops and they realise you’ve been winding them up, doesn’t it?’

  He threw her another confused look. It was obvious he was concerned about where her interrogation was heading.

  ‘Yeah. Fun,’ he said, warily.

  Fonseca leaned back against the wall and pulled her cell phone from her pocket again. Her update from HQ had arrived. She flicked through a few menus before she continued.

  ‘You’ve been in here for almost three years now,’ she said.

  ‘Three years. Yes.’

  Fonseca found what she was looking for on her phone and readied herself to wipe the smug look from his face. ‘Dominic Englebert Touretto,’ she said. ‘Arrested for the murder of an eighteen year old prostitute, correct?’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘You pleaded insanity and convinced a jury that you didn’t do the murder, and that in fact your alter ego Roy was responsible.’

  ‘Roy. Yes.’

  ‘Split personality huh? And your alter ego was called Roy?’

  Touretto swallowed hard, but said nothing. He looked down at his feet.

  ‘Roy,’ Fonseca repeated. ‘I would have seen the joke straightaway. But the jury didn’t. And neither did the judge or the prosecution. I bet you couldn’t believe your luck?’

  Touretto took a deep breath but kept his gaze fixed on his feet.

  ‘You’ve seen the film Primal Fear, correct?’ said Fonseca.

  ‘Never heard of it.’

  ‘Funny,’ Fonseca went on. ‘Because according to my files you re-enacted scenes from it in court. In the film, Ed Norton plays the part of a guy on trial for murder. He con
vinces the judge and jury, even his own lawyer, that he has an alter ego called Roy who committed the murder on his behalf. And he gets let off and sent to a mental institution because the jury believe that he’s insane and has a split personality, when in actual fact he was a cold, calculated killer.’

  Touretto said nothing and continued to avoid eye contact.

  ‘It wasn’t until after the case was closed that someone spotted what you’d done, and by then it was too late to call a mistrial.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Yes you do. You were convinced you were going to prison because the evidence against you was so clear. So for fun you decided to joke around in court, playing the part of Ed Norton’s character from Primal Fear. You never expected to get away with it, but then it turned out that no one on the jury or the prosecution had seen the film. They really believed you were insane. And then, fuck me, you actually got away with it. And you ended up in here instead of in prison. I bet you couldn’t believe your luck.’

  ‘That’s not true.’ There was a sudden clarity to Touretto’s voice that had been absent before.

  ‘Yes it is. You, you’re of sound mind. So how about you stop pretending to be mental?’

  ‘We don’t use that word around here.’

  Fonseca smiled. ‘I could easily pull some strings and have you retried. So how about you stop pretending to be crazy and answer my questions.’

  She allowed him to sweat over the thought of a retrial for a few seconds before hitting him with her interrogation.

  ‘So, Dominic, or should I call you Roy?’ she said slipping her phone back in her pocket. ‘Why the fuck did Joey Conrad hit you?’

  Touretto swallowed hard. He looked up at her with the same crestfallen look Dr Carter had shown a minute earlier when she was outed as a college cheat. ‘It’s in Gone with the Wind,’ he said.

  ‘Pardon me?’

  He pointed at the books on his shelf below the DVD’s. ‘Gone with the Wind, page eighty-two.’

  Fonseca wasn’t entirely sure what to make of what he’d said. If it was a prank she hadn’t figured it out. She walked over to the bookshelf, keeping an eye on Touretto the whole time. She pulled out Gone with the Wind and flicked through the pages until she reached page eighty two. A small photograph slipped out of the pages and fell to the floor. She bent down to pick it up.

  ‘Please don’t confiscate it,’ Touretto said, his eyes revealing a sudden desperation.

  Fonseca held the photo up in front of her face to get a closer look. It was a photo of a girl in black lingerie. She was a pretty young thing, probably in her late teens with a lovely head of dark hair. She also had an unfortunately placed blue birthmark on her face. ‘Why am I looking at this?’ she asked.

  ‘Joey Conrad wanted it.’

  ‘This is why he hit you?’

  ‘He wanted it for himself.’

  ‘Why?’

  Touretto blushed and raised his eyebrows. ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘Same thing as you use it for I suppose,’ said Fonseca, shuddering at the visual image of Touretto masturbating over the picture.

  ‘I actually met her though,’ he said. ‘Wanted to keep the photo as a souvenir.’

  Fonseca looked at the photo again, studying the girl a little closer. ‘She’s a friend of yours?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Did Joey Conrad ever meet her?’

  ‘Couldn’t have done,’ said Touretto. ‘Unless he’s been sneaking out to B Movie Hell at night.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She lives in B Movie Hell.’

  ‘You met this girl in B Movie Hell?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘When you escaped recently?’

  ‘Uh huh. She worked in a whorehouse called The Beaver Palace. She let me have the photo as a souvenir, seeing as I was from out of town.’

  Fonseca pulled her cell phone from her pocket again and used it to take a picture of the photo of the girl. ‘What’s her name?’ she asked.

  ‘Baby,’ Touretto replied.

  ‘Her real name?’

  ‘I don’t know. She was just called Baby, honest.’

  ‘What about a surname?’

  ‘I didn’t ask for it. Not sure the girls there even have surnames.’

  ‘And did you brag to Joey Conrad about having sex with her?’

  ‘I might have mentioned it.’

  ‘So you did?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And do you think he broke out so he could go to B Movie Hell and have sex with her too?’

  ‘Probably. He was jealous as hell, I could tell. I wouldn’t give him the photo. That’s why he hit me.’

  ‘And yet you managed to keep the photo. That’s impressive,’ said Fonseca, curious as to how he’d managed it.

  ‘I’m very good at hiding that photo. My room has been mysteriously trashed several times since my fight with Conrad. Someone wants that photo real bad, and I’m not just talking about Joey Conrad. I’ve had to hide that picture up my asshole on more than one occasion.’

  Fonseca glanced down at the picture in her hand. It was a little brown around the edges. ‘This has been up your bum?’ she said, resisting the urge to sniff it for confirmation.

  ‘You’re not going to take it are you?’

  ‘Not today. Not as long as you continue to co-operate.’ She stuck the photo back inside Gone With The Wind on page eighty-two. ‘I have a picture of it on my phone. That will do me for now.’

  ‘Please don’t tell Dr Carter about it, she’ll confiscate it without a seconds thought. And I’d hate to forget how beautiful Baby was. Best night of my life since I got sent here, I can tell you.’

  ‘Did you hurt her?’

  Touretto looked at his feet again. ‘I got what I paid for. Everything was consensual.’

  Fonseca closed the copy of Gone with the Wind and replaced it back on the shelf. ‘So Joey Conrad didn’t know this girl then? You’re sure of that?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s no way he could have known her. Like I said, he’s never been out of this place until he escaped. And I’m sure Dr Carter will confirm for you that he’s never had any visitors either. The guy’s got no family and he sure as hell ain’t got no friends.’

  The door to Touretto’s room opened and Dr Carter stepped in tentatively. ‘That’s your two minutes,’ she said.

  ‘Get the fuck out!’ Fonseca snapped at her. Carter looked shocked but wisely stepped back out of sight and shut the door behind her. Fonseca turned back to Touretto. ‘Anything else you can tell me about Joey Conrad?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He thinks he’s a million different people. He likes pretending to be characters from movies. He loves his movies.’

  ‘Do you know who supplies him with his DVD’s and other things?’

  ‘Let me show you,’ said Touretto. He stood up from the bed and pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing a very muscular torso underneath.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Fonseca asked, confused.

  Touretto pulled his sweatpants down, revealing that he was wearing no underwear. Fonseca caught a glimpse of his penis which was semi erect. It took her by surprise and she looked away.

  ‘Can you put your clothes back on please?’ she said.

  ‘You’re not quite so observant as I first thought,’ said Touretto grinning and proudly pushing his hips forward to make sure his penis was in her eyeline.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You pissed off Dr Carter.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So she just locked you in. It’s time to introduce you to my alter ego…. Roy.’

  Twenty Three

  ‘What girl?’ Munson repeated.

  The officer who had walked out of the men’s washroom stood open mouthed, unsure how to answer. His cheeks turned a crimson colour. He looked at Randall.

  ‘Don’t look at him!’ Munson snapped. ‘What girl?’
<
br />   ‘Umm.’

  ‘What’s your name son?’

  ‘Gary.’

  ‘Gary. What girl? Look at me.’

  Munson fixed Gary with a firm stare. The young officer crumbled, just as he expected. ‘Umm, there was a girl running across the field,’ he mumbled.

  Munson turned away from him, freeing him from his vocal stare. He turned his attentions to Candy and Randall to see how they were reacting to the mention of the girl. If the guy from the washroom knew about her then surely they did too.

  ‘Oh right, the girl, yeah,’ said Candy slapping her forehead. ‘There was a girl in here who ran out across the field when the Red Mohawk appeared.’

  ‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  Munson pointed at Randall. ‘Your buddies are driving across the field to get that girl. Why?’

  ‘They’re probably just checking to see if she got away safely. I’m sure she did. The Red Mohawk drove off down the highway, didn’t he Candy?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Candy agreed. ‘The girl will be fine. The Red Mohawk wasn’t after her, I don’t think.’

  Munson nodded as he listened to them concoct the story. Something didn’t fit quite right here. Everyone he had encountered in the diner was acting like they had something to hide. And it possibly had something to do with a mystery girl.

  ‘Do you know who this girl was?’ he asked. ‘I’d like to question her. After all, she’s a witness to the killing, isn’t she?’

  Candy stared up at the ceiling and scratched her chin. ‘You know what?’ she said. ‘I didn’t really get a good look at her. She hadn’t been in here long before the killer struck. I hadn’t even taken an order from her.’

  ‘Uh huh. And where was she sitting?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Where was she sitting? In one of the booths? Or at the counter?’

  ‘Ummm.’

  Randall intervened. ‘I’d imagine it’s hard to remember all these tiny details, right Candy? I mean, I guess you must be in shock.’

  ‘Yes, I am, I think,’ said Candy nodding. ‘I’m in shock. I don’t remember where the girl was. I only really remember seeing her running across the road into the field. Everyone else drove off. She obviously didn’t have a car.’