Lost Hours Page 3

  “Josh! Josh! Oh Josh!” She screams beside herself with pain, her eyes clouded with tears running towards the roped off area. An older man with a bushy white beard -if a kid saw him in the street, he would swear it was Santa Claus-holds her back and stops her before she can reach the body, which in a few minutes will be turned over to the forensic team, as soon as the judge in turn processes the order.

  I stand and move towards her.

  “Miss, I´m Paul Tischmann. I will be heading this case. I want you to know how sorry I am.”

  “Sorry? Who the fuck needs sorry! Find the damn murderer who did this. Now!”

  The older man takes what appears to be the victim´s wife to a nearby room. She´s still screaming but I can no longer make out the words.

  Meantime, Stuart approaches with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Thanks for the coffee Stuart, but wipe that stupid grin off your face.” I tell him seriously.

  “Yes sir, boss, sir. Laura has probably brought you up to speed. We´re dealing with a luxury druggie here, they found powder in his nose.”

  “We´ll have to wait on the tox exams Stuart. How many times have I told you not to get ahead of yourself?” I ask exasperated, and take a sip of my coffee, “the cocaine could have been placed in his nostrils to put us off the trail. That´s all.” Stuart nods, not daring to contradict me. Can´t really say he´s got his balls in the right place. When I was assistant to the now retired John Peck – one strict bastard-I used to contradict everything he said when I thought I was right. Poor John was patient with me, deep down he was like a father to me, and all I know about this business is thanks to him. We´ve hardly kept in touch since he moved to Malibu. I want to imagine him in his office with an ocean view, writing police novels as he had always dreamed; taking care of his garden or drinking cold lemonade on the porch beside his wife Melinda, the most charming and kind person that I`ve ever met. Lucky guy, this Peck.

  I observe the mourning woman in the other room at length. It makes sense, but there is something in her that bothers me. She keeps looking around but seeing absolutely nothing. She shakes her head violently in denial, silently, and it seems her fragile neck could snap any second. When she´s settled down a bit I´ll have to go in and talk to her. The older man beside her offers her a pill and she swallows it dry without hesitating.

  I go over all the steps taken by the forensics team, not that I don´t trust them to do their job well, but I want to make sure we don´t miss anything. Not one thing.

  Five minutes later, Josh Parker´s body it taken away in a gurney. All the pertinent tests have been run in the crime scene.

  As the employees continue to arrive, their eyes wide, their hands to their mouths; the question of the day is: «what in the world happened here? » No one seems to know anything, but I have a feeling that one of them is the murderer. Or not. I have the bad habit of being wrong. I also thought Ana loved me and was faithful and it turns out she was screwing a guy behind my back. I have to stop thinking about Ana, I can´t let it get to me and cloud my judgement. This Josh guy may have been a son of a bitch, but no one, absolutely no one has the right to take another´s life.

  PAULA

  Wednesday, November 9, 2013

  A soft caress wakes me up, but when I open my I eyes I find Matthew is no longer in bed. I never know exactly what schedule he keeps, so I imagine he´s gone to work early today.

  I push myself up on the pillows, looking at the disheveled bed; it´s a mess, proof of a restless night, twisting and turning. I have a monster headache courtesy of the numerous Bloody Marys consumed the previous night. The clock shows half past seven.

  As I walk toward the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee y remember last nights dream. It´s easy, it´s a recurrent dream that has been plaguing me for a while.

  «I´m facing away from my line of vision, wearing a vintage dark blue dress that´s been in my closet forever. In my right hand is a heavy suitcase, in my left an umbrella in white and mauve -the colors I dislike the most-. Around me all is dry, an arid mountain in the middle of nowhere. I walk continuously and I can never see my own face. It´s windy and my red hair is pushed forward interfering with my vision of the horizon, of the overcast sky from which huge bubbles emerge.

  0:800 hrs.

  I leave the apartment with a radiant smile on my face. There´s no particular reason I should be so happy, yet something tells me it´s going to be a great day, even if the New York sky chose to be cloudy. There´s only one thing that could spoil my day: meeting Josh.

  «How can I look him in the eye after last night? What am I going to say? What will he say to me? » A countless number of thoughts go through my head as I move through the over crowded streets and countless traffic jams in the noisy city streets.

  I don´t even want to think about the possibility of being fired just because I didn´t give in to Josh´s advances. If they did, boy, would I fight back. I would definitely rat him out, no questions about it. «No, no, no! Out with the negative thoughts, Paula. It´s going to be a great day. I am going to have a great day. » I repeat this to myself over and over. I smile again, but it doesn´t last more than a few seconds. On the morning program on the radio, a nonchalant announcer is talking about a murder at the agency where I work:

  «The police arrived at six forty this morning after being alerted by the cleaning lady of the prestigious advertising agency, DIC, -to which, by the way, I sent a CV two years ago and hasn´t replied, radio doesn´t pay much, you know?- Anyway! The murder occurred last night. We will keep you posted as new information develops. And now, let’s all put on a smile! We all know Wednesdays suck, but the weekend will be here in no time! On with some music!»

  I switch off the radio. I am stopped at a red light and I´m all goosebumps. A name comes to mind immediately: Josh. Who else could it be? He was the last one left in the office, there was no one else.

  A part of me would have chosen to go home and avoid the comming crash with reality. A murder! At my work place! On the other hand, I want to park my car and get up there as quickly as I can to see if I am right; if Josh is no longer with us.

  Sometimes I ponder about death. I have always believed that when we die, there´s something more; that inside our bodies a soul dwells that flies free when the end comes. I believe in the existence of other dimensions, a place where the souls that have departed from the living make their home.

  I enter the parking lot, find my spot and remain in the car for a few seconds staring vacantly, with my hands on the wheel, squeezing hard. A chill travels down my spine, from end to end, and I begin to suffer hallucinations. “Josh? Is that you Josh”? A car parks beside mine. It´s Lisa, abruptly she jumps out of her car and taps my window.

  “Pula! Paula, come on! What a mess! Let´s get up to the office and see what´s happened.” She tells me as if it was some kind of a show we are not involved in. I stare at her bewildered, shaking my head I try to rid myself of that feeling of confusion that is so common when facing the unknown. Or at least that´s what you think.

  “I heard about it Lisa. Let´s go up and see what´s going on.” I reply as calmly as I can, wrenching myself out of the car and walking beside Lisa to the lift that will take us up to the office.

  CHAPTER 3

  PAULA

  Monday, September 8, 2003

  My legs felt like jelly. It was my first day at the renowned DIC Agency. After numerous aptitude tests and personal interviews -which by the way I had passed with flying colors-I had achieved the position I wanted.

  DIC stands for ´Dream In Color´, and that alone says a lot about the kind of advertising agency it was. I wouldn´t be allowed to just get in and get along as I did when I had the editor position at a teen magazine. At DIC I´d have to give it my all, every single day.

  I dreamed of pushing ahead and doing great things. I was to be assistant to one of the most prestigious creative directors in New York: Josh Parker. It boggled my mind that something so cool could happe
n to me. Josh had been responsible for some of the most wonderful and famous publicity campaigns worldwide. And I was going to be one of his assistants!

  For the occasion, I had picked an austere two-piece suit with a white shirt -top two buttons undone-. I put on some incredibly uncomfortable but high end killer heels, and got in the car. I was still shaking, but the excitement and vitality typical of twenty-six-year-old who wants to gobble up the world with fries on the side, helped me to get going.

  I parked at my reserved parking spot. I now had a parking spot! Another dream come true.

  Just as I was getting out of the car, a girl was moving into the spot beside mine. I figured she must have been about my age. She had a pleasant face and had chosen to wear clothes similar to mine. I walked slowly towards the elevator that would take me to the main entrance of the agency and the girl clumsily stumbled in her high heels towards me.

  “These pumps are going to kill me. I´m Lisa Veltman. Today is my first day at the agency.” She squinted her light brown eyes in a playful manner and smiled timidly revealing a neat row of perfect whites.

  “Paula Hawkins. Pleased to meet you Lisa. It´s my first day too.”

  “Really?” She asked enthusiastically, “You´re not one of Josh Parkers assistants by any chance?” I nodded “Wow! That’s great! I was scared witless to walk in alone!”

  “Me too.” I acknowledged with a smile.

  I was quite familiar with the place. I had been there at least five times before for the painstaking personal interviews. We stopped at the front desk to make inquiries and were directed to one of the immaculate rooms, all white, with matching leather couches; I was familiar with these though.

  “For the last interview, they had me waiting here for forty minutes,” whispered Lisa, “I think they have cameras to check how you react.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that, but they did the same to me.” I shrugged and turned to look around for some signs of a miniature lens that I might have missed.

  After five minutes, a tall well-built man walked through the door. His eyes were the most beautiful I´d seen in my entire life.

  “Good morning, I´m Josh Parker, I guess you are Paula Hawking and Lisa Veltman,” he greets us peering into a battered folder. We both felt somewhat overwhelmed, “if you can come with me please.”

  We walked into one of the meeting rooms. Two young women were there. From the way they stared at us, it was clear they had been working here for a while. Confident and overdressed, they evidently felt we were competition. Both were blonds, like Lisa, and rather than assistants to anyone, they resembled Victoria Secret´s top models.

  “Let me introduce you to Charlotte Heston and Nicole Witte. They have been my assistants for over eight years and you are going to join them in our team. We are going to do great things Paula, Lisa,” he promised with great enthusiasm putting all formality aside. He bit his lower lip and looked at me. My heart immediately jumped, it was the first time in my life I literally experienced butterflies in my stomach. Hundreds of them, letting me know that this man was to be an important part of my life´s story.

  PAULA

  Wednesday, October 9, 2013

  Lisa and I walked in the office. I look at her and it´s as if we´d stepped back in time ten years. We were just as nervous as the day we started at DIC.

  It´s half past eight. You can feel the tension. All the employees come and go aimlessly glancing furtively at the cordoned area. Lisa and I are also looking in that direction and I can´t help putting my hands to my head. The murder took place in exactly the same place where I was with Josh last night. In the meeting room. There are five cops working there, the broken partition and glass shards scattered all over, and blood, blood everywhere. In the adjoining room I can see Charlotte, Josh´s wife. Ten years ago she was one of the assistants, my comrade in arms. It saddens me to see her cry and scream, deranged by the pain. She´s standing by and older man, perhaps her father.

  “This is really heavy,” whispers Nicole as she joins us, looking compassionately towards Charlotte. “They killed Josh.”

  I don´t react. I can´t react. Last night he was alive, with me and he tried to abuse me. «What if someone saw it? Did someone take vengeance because they thought he was a sexual predator? My goodness… What if it´s my fault? »

  “How did it happen?” Asks Lisa, who doesn´t seem to be as upset as Nicole or myself. I find I can´t even speak.

  “Apparently his throat has been slit. This is terrible. Terrible” Nicole repeats through her tears. She glances sideways at me and shakes her head, rests her hand on my shoulder and attempts to smile. “You were his favorite. Did you know?”

  I nod uncertainly. I want to go to my office and appear to be normal. The truth is I´m shaking and there´s an oppressive knot in my throat, a gnawing feeling of guilt. Guilty because I left Josh alone. If I had stayed he might still be alive. Or not. Maybe I´d be dead too.

  A cold hand on my shoulder stops me and as I turn I see a strong, tall man with dark hair and extraordinary brown, slanted eyes. He looks tired, overwhelmed, the bags under his eyes and his pallor attest to it. But even so, he smiles candidly at me.

  “Paula Hawkins?” He asks. His voice is deep, but there is a melancholy tone to it that attracts me.

  “Yes, that´s me.”

  “I´m detective Paul Tischmann. We are questioning all the employees at the firm; nothing personal. You were the last person to see Josh Parker alive, right?” He asks, spacing the words in an exaggerated manner, like when you want someone who doesn´t speak the language to understand you.

  His question echoes in my head. I am paralyzed, I don´t know what to say or how to react. Yes, it was I, the last person to see him alive. Alive! Damn it! What happened afterwards?

  “Miss Hawkins?”

  I can´t even tell him it isn´t miss, bur Mrs. And I feel guilty because I find it pleasing. I am young in his eyes, and I can see in them that he feels as attracted to me as I do to him. Theres´a hint of curiosity in his expression and he hasn´t stopped smiling, regardless of the circumstances.

  “I´m sorry,” I manage to say with a fake smile. “it´s been too much of a shock, arriving and finding all… this… Yes, I was the last person to see him alive. Well not the last one, of course, I…”

  “Time of death has been set at between ten and eleven. At what time did you leave the office? Can you remember?”

  “At nine thirty.”

  “I normally can´t recall the time at which I do things so clearly.” He says frowning and writing something in a small notebook.

  “I’m obsessed with time, as if I might lose it or something.”

  “Did you find anything strange in Mr. Parker?”

  Should I tell him? Would he believe me? Could it get me into trouble?

  “You see…” I look at my toes, feeling thedetective´s fixed stare above my head. “Could we go to a quiet place Mr. Tischmann?”

  He nods, and with a dazzling smile, he gestures for me to go ahead and guide him to that quiet place. We walk in front of the Agency Director´s office, Samantha Hemsley. She glances at me and smiles painfully. Bad time for Samantha, I know she was fond of Josh.

  We walk into a small meeting room. I turn on the lights, close the door and look fixedly at the detective. He is waiting for me to say something, but I´m not sure I should tell him about last night. Was it worth it? Would it help solve the case?

  “What is it you want to tell me?” he prompts me curiously.

  “Well you see, last night… Last night he tried to abuse me sexually.”

  “Do you know if he was on drugs?” he asks as if he wasn’t surprised at all by what I just told him.

  “Yes, he seemed somewhat agitated,” I reply brooding. Somewhat… he was very agitated. I was terrified but I avoid revealing that information. “Some time ago we had an affair. Well, it was just a couple of dates and a one night thing, you know. Right after that he began to date Charlotte, another of hi
s assistants and our thing was over.”

  «Why have I told him all this? », I ask myself as soon as I finish speaking.

  “Were you resentful? I mean, that he chose Charlotte?”

  “No, no, no not at all detective. No hard feelings. We got along well, it was a professional relationship. That was just flirting.” I expound. “But last night, just as I mentioned before, he tried to rape me.”

  “I´m really sorry about that.” He sympathizes, again writing something in his small note book.

  “I don´t know if any of this has been useful. As you can imagine, I left in a hurry to get home, got there at ten past ten. Though I met a friend and we stopped for a drink. Shouldn´t have done it, I have a splitting headache,” I want to laugh, but I just can´t, “By five minutes to midnight, I was in bed.”

  “You and the time!” he laughs shaking his head, “very precise. Thank you for the information miss Hawkins.”

  “Detective Tischmann…”

  “Call me Paul.”

  “Paul, I´d like to help you in the investigation,” I say sincerely, daring to use his first name, “I feel guilty. If I hadn´t left, Josh would be alive, If I hadn´t…”

  “Paula,” he interrupts me gently, “you are not guilty of anything. Stay in town, it´s all I´m going to ask of you. We´ll get to the bottom of this. We always do. Thanks for staying available.”

  As he walks out the door I want to stop him. I don´t know why but I want him to stay. His smile, his gaze, his gestures… something in this guy has made me powerfully curious and I have to find out what it is.

  PAUL

  Wednesday, October 9, 2013

  Poor girl. This Josh guy was a real piece. She´s not the first victim of this type I´ve come across. Handsome successful guys that think that they can have everything, even if it isn´t offered. These guys usually come to a bad end. Parker´s just one more.