Chapter Sixty-Five
Sixty-Five
‘Why did we have to drive this far for lunch?’ Denise asked Mary, as they were shown to their table at the small taqueria in Westlake, on the northernmost edge of San Mateo County.
‘Because I can’t risk the two of us being seen together, Denise,’ Mary whispered, as they took their seats. ‘You coming to my place was already risky enough.’
‘Maybe I should’ve knocked at the door at Quaddra’s house instead,’ Denise said, pulling a defiant face at Mary. ‘You’re practically living there already.’
‘That would’ve been a terrible mistake.’
‘I know, sis. God, I was just joking. Would you relax a little.’
‘I’m serious, Denise,’ Mary volleyed back. ‘You know the rules. You turning up at my apartment in the early hours of the morning was crazy irresponsible. What if someone had seen us together?’
‘Like who?’
‘I don’t know… maybe a neighbor, or someone.’
‘Do you know any of your neighbors?’ Denise challenged.
‘That’s not the point.’
‘Of course it is,’ Denise cut Mary short. ‘And even if somebody had seen us together, what could they say – that they saw you talking to another woman in the hallway?’
Mary glared at her.
‘No one could identify me.’ She pointed to her baseball cap.
‘My hair was tied up and tucked under my hat, like so… my top is twice my size.’ She pinched her sweatshirt, just above her breasts, and stretched it out to demonstrate how large it really was before indicating her face.
‘And I’m wearing no makeup. You mentioned looking like a hobo earlier…
’ She used both index fingers to point back at herself.
‘Well, I’m the bag lady… the sole definition of a “forgettable” person. ’
‘Still a risk, Denise, and you know it. Let’s just stick to the rules from now on, OK?’
A waitress came to their table, and they ordered two mezcalitas and a selection of assorted tacos.
‘Talking about rules,’ Denise said, once the waitress was out of earshot. ‘How about the psychologist side of the plan? Have you got that ball rolling yet?’
‘Of course,’ Mary replied. ‘Those have always been our trump cards – the psychologist and the lover. No jury on this planet can argue with those two witnesses. The psychologist testifies to the domestic abuse and the violence and the lover confirms it. They are our game-set-match cards. Especially with the evidence package.’
Another key element in Mary and Denise’s wedding con was the ‘evidence package’ that got mailed to whichever therapist they were using at the time, just as the trial had started.
The package contained all the Polaroid photos that either Mary or Denise had taken of their ‘bruises’ since they had met their mark, in this case Quaddra.
Also included in the package were several Dictaphone tapes, where either Mary or Denise – whoever was playing the wife – would describe the ‘abuse’ in detail, including dates.
Those dates would perfectly match the therapist’s notes, because Mary and Denise both knew that therapists would always make a note every time they noticed a new bruise on their client.
In a court of law, that kind of information, when given by a well-respected psychologist, would weigh very heavily in their favor.
‘So, you’ve started the package already?’ Denise asked.
‘Of course.’
‘And when did you start seeing the therapist?’
‘Ten months ago,’ Mary replied. ‘The same week that I moved to San Francisco.’
‘That’s what? Five, six months before you met Quaddra?’
‘A little over five months,’ Mary confirmed.
‘And who is she? How did you find her?’
‘Her name is Dr. Lillian Fox,’ Mary explained.
‘And I found her through an internet advert I saw almost a year ago, before I even moved to San Francisco. I checked her out and she was perfect – well known, with a great reputation and very well respected. In court, her testimony will be worth its weight in gold. Trust me.’
‘And how’s it going with her?’ Denise asked.
‘Smooth as silk,’ Mary’s tone was full of pride.
‘During those five initial months, before I met Quaddra, we’ve talked about all the normal therapy subjects – childhood, family, love life…
you know the drill. Then, five months into therapy, there’s a mention of me having possibly met a new love interest. A couple of weeks later, the love interest has become a full-blown romance and boom, every now and then, a few expertly placed bruises start showing up – arm, shoulder, legs – same as always.
Never something too exposed or too visible like on my face, neck or hands.
She gets to see them every now and then because sometime during the session, I accidently hitch up my sleeve a little too much, or my blouse, or my skirt, or whatever. ’
‘Has she asked about them yet?’ Denise questioned.
‘She mentioned them, yes.’
The waitress came back with their drinks. ‘The food will be right along.’
‘Oh, there’s no rush,’ Denise said, giving the waitress a sympathetic smile.
Once the waitress was far enough away, Denise’s attention returned to Mary, but this time, it was full of concern.
‘Hold on a second here. Doesn’t California law require a therapist to tell the police if they suspect that a patient of theirs is being a victim of domestic abuse, domestic violence, or both? ’
‘That’s exactly right, yeah,’ Mary replied, as she sipped her drink. She didn’t seem concerned.
Denise frowned. ‘And how isn’t that a problem, sis? You said that she’s already noticed the bruises, right? If she reports it – which, by law, she must do – the cops will come knocking… Quaddra will probably be arrested… and that’s that. End of. We’ll walk away with nothing.’
‘Yeah, but she won’t report it.’ There was real confidence in Mary’s tone.
‘How can you know that, Mary?’
‘Because of one tiny detail… but a very important one.’
‘Which is?’
‘Doubt.’
Denise’s head recoiled back half an inch. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that Dr. Fox is a very well-known therapist,’ Mary began.
‘With a solid reputation. A reputation that she won’t want to tarnish.
For her to go to the authorities with a “suspicion” about one of her clients, that “suspicion” has to be pretty undeniable, because if she makes a mistake…
if it turns out that there was no abuse happening at all…
if it turns out that I was just clumsy, like I told her I was…
her “solid” reputation will take a huge hit – and that’s the last thing that a therapist of Dr. Fox’s caliber would want.
’ Mary lifted a finger at Denise, for emphasis.
‘Plus, I never told her who my partner was. She doesn’t know his name, his profession, or anything, but I made damn sure that she understood that he was a very, very influential figure.
The kind of influential that could end careers, if he got rubbed the wrong way. Do you know what I’m saying?’
Denise took a second.
Mary smiled. ‘She knows very well that, like you’ve said – if she reports it, the cops will probably come knocking…
Quaddra will be, at least, taken away for questioning…
and that would certainly rub him the wrong.
That means that she knows that if she gets this wrong, it’s the end of her career.
I never, not once, complained about Quaddra to her.
I never said anything bad about him either…
meaning that I never “explicitly” voiced any sort of concerns about him.
So, sure, she might have suspicions, but she will also have doubts…
the kind of doubts that will make her second guess her decision every time.
Why? Because her career is on the line.’ Mary shook her head.
‘Without concrete proof, she won’t risk it because the consequences can be too damaging, and concrete proof will only come with the “evidence package”. ’
Denise chewed on all that for a moment. ‘You really got good at this, didn’t you?’
Mary took a bow. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘So, you stuck with the “being clumsy” story?’ Denise asked.
‘Of course – and of course I made sure that Dr. Fox noticed that said clumsiness seemed to have magically appeared just after I started dating Quaddra. Small bruises at first, but soon they’ll start getting just a little larger, which will coincide with my mood changing to sadder and sadder, and me becoming more and more withdrawn.
I’ll start showing a little fear just weeks before the grand finale. ’
‘So how often do you see her?’ Denise asked.
‘For now, once a week,’ Mary replied. ‘I have a session tomorrow afternoon actually, but just like always, I’ll increase the sessions to two a week, once the wedding is out of the way.’
‘How about Quaddra?’ Denise pushed. ‘He must’ve noticed the bruises too because the two of you are practically living together.’
‘Of course he has,’ Mary confirmed. ‘But I laid the groundwork right on our first night together.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘How clumsy I can be.’ The smile on Mary’s lips was a smug one.
‘We had just finished having sex for the first time,’ she recounted.
‘I was exiting the room and bumped my shoulder on the doorframe… hard. When he asked if I was alright, I told him that I’m usually clumsy, but I get even more clumsy when I get nervous. ’
Denise chuckled. ‘You’re a bad bitch.’
‘Since then, he’s seen me bump into tables, chairs, desks, the kitchen sink, the fridge, the bed… you name it.’ She nodded firmly. ‘He’s getting used to it.’
Denise sat back and had a sip of her mezcalita, just as the waitress came back with their selection of tacos.
‘So, the stage is all set then,’ Denise said, as she rolled herself a Tinga de Pollo Taco.
‘Pretty much so,’ Mary replied, making herself a Taco Alambre.
‘How about the romance?’ Denise asked, in between bites. ‘How’s that going?’
Mary paused and allowed her eyes to slowly move to Denise. She bit her bottom lip to try to curb the smile that was already more than apparent. ‘He’s going to propose… when we go to Europe.’
Denise almost spat out half of her taco. ‘You guys are going to Europe? What the fuck? Have you lost your mind?’
Mary was already expecting that exact reaction.
‘Don’t worry, Denise, we’re not going anywhere near the UK.
We’ll fly to Austria, and we’ll take it from there.
But Quaddra will go wherever I suggest. Plus, the reason for the trip isn’t because we need a vacation or anything like that.
He’s going to propose, and he wants to do it in a unique location…
somewhere “romantic”.’ She used her fingers to draw quotes in the air.
‘How do you know he’s going to propose?’ Denise finished her Tinga de Pollo and began preparing another one. ‘He didn’t tell you that, did he?’
‘Because I saw the receipt for the ring,’ Mary replied. ‘Bought at Tiffany, about a week ago.’
‘Wow,’ Denise commented. ‘That’s fast, isn’t it? How long have you guys been dating?’
‘Five months. Yeah, it’s fast, but not as fast as Nelson. He proposed in three and a half months, remember? And Phillip in five.’
‘Either men are too fucking easy,’ Denise chuckled, ‘or you’re too fucking hot.’
‘Both.’ Mary laughed.
Denise laughed with her. ‘So, when are you guys going? To Europe, I mean.’
‘When he’s back from LA,’ Mary replied.
‘And when will that be?’
‘Whenever he’s done with whatever business he’s dealing with this time. It could be a couple of days… it could be a week… or it could be this afternoon.’ Mary’s tone went back to being stern. ‘That’s why you turning up at my place the way you did was so goddamn risky, Denise.’
Denise used a napkin on her mouth before replying.
‘I knew that he was away, Mary. I saw him leave the day before yesterday. I also saw you leave the gallery this morning, after the exhibition, on your own and heading towards your apartment, not his house… which clearly meant that you weren’t expecting him back yet.
Give me some credit, please.’ She, once again, pointed at herself.
‘Not just a pretty face, you know? It’s not only you who’s good at this. ’
‘I know. I just want to get this completely right so that we can finally stop doing it for good.’
‘I’ll definitely drink to that,’ Denise said, as she reached for her cocktail. ‘Cheers!’
‘Cheers!’ They touched glasses. ‘Where are you staying at the moment? Not in San Francisco, right?’
‘For the time being, yeah,’ Denise replied, after downing her mezcalita. ‘A nice little hotel downtown.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Mary’s tone left no room for discussion. ‘Not until I give you the green light that it’s time for you to casually bump into Quaddra somewhere.’
‘Mary, this is San Francisco,’ Denise tried arguing. ‘Not Woburn, Massachusetts.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Mary fired straight back.
‘Shit happens, Denise, you know that, and I’m not taking any unnecessary risks here.
This…’ she gestured at the table that they were sitting at, ‘… will be the last you’ll hear from me until I give you that green light…
and the last time we’ll see each other until you walk into that courtroom, as a last-minute witness for the prosecution. ’
Denise filled her cheeks with air before blowing it out slowly. ‘Do I get any kind of ballpark timeframe here, or what?’
‘Hard to say,’ Mary replied. ‘Like I’ve explained, the engagement is just around the corner.
From there, I’ll push for a quick wedding, and I don’t think that we’ll have any problems in making it a very small gathering.
Quaddra was an only child and his parents are gone – father died of cancer a few years back and his mother passed away during the Covid pandemic.
Friends-wise, he’s got no more than just a handful and like I’ve said, he likes to keep himself to himself, so I’m sure that he won’t want any sort of extravagant party or anything. ’
‘So, what are we talking about here?’ Denise insisted. ‘Six months? More? Less? I really just need a ballpark figure.’
‘I don’t think that it will be less than six months.’
As if on cue, Mary’s cellphone rang inside her handbag.
‘Talking about the devil.’ She winked at Denise before taking Quaddra’s call, and just like that, her voice went soft and seductive.
‘Honeyyyyy… I was wondering why you hadn’t called me yet.’ Even though he couldn’t see it, Mary made a sad puppy face. ‘I miss you.’
‘This bitch,’ Denise whispered to herself, while shaking her head at Mary.