7. LORAINE
1660 Words
“Don’t worry, there’s nothing broken,” informs Logan, the paramedic who has just treated my nose.
I’m sitting on one of the restaurant chairs, and I have the sensation of having a whole box of tissues stuck in my nostrils. The blood kept flowing, but I could very well have handled it on my own. On the other hand, the guy that Mark seems to have struggled with is going to need some care.
“Are you okay, Loraine?” Anthony asks.
“It’s going to be fine, thank you. I don’t think he did it on purpose. The punch wasn’t intended for me.”
I don’t add that, even if it seems spectacular because of the blood, the guy seriously lacks technique. Someone a little more trained would have broken my nose.
“The chief is here.”
“The chief? Our chief?”
“You know how it is when one of us is hit…”
I roll my eyes.
“I have a nose bleed, it was an accident, no one died.”
“Yes, but this isn’t what you might call an accident,” he said, gesturing to the broken chair and the upside-down furniture.
This is the moment that Logan, who was putting away his equipment, chooses to join in the conversation:
“Oh! It’s not a little nosebleed that will make our Loraine’s head spin!”
He gives me a pat on the back, a gesture certainly invented in the Palaeolithic era between men wishing to congratulate themselves after a good game of hunting, and that those of today still like as proof of their virility. I never know if I should be happy about it (sort of means I’m from their clan), or worry about it (what other woman gets pats on the back?).
I give Logan a forced smile. He’ll deduce what he wants from it.
“See you at the game next week?” he asks.
“I should hope so.”
“A game of what?” asks Anthony.
“Basketball,” says Logan. “Loraine is our captain.”
“Ah! That’s nice!”
As I sense what will follow, I look at Logan. But he seems quite closed to my distress signals, too happy to find someone to brag about our team to.
“And you play in a club?”
“It’s a team that we put together at work, and since we were missing two or three guys, we recruited them at the police station. The best idea we’ve ever had! Loraine is exceptional, you should see her on the court. You should come to cheer us on in the next game. We’re playing against the Verne Estate.”
Anthony’s eyes light up.
“Yes, I could even play a bit with you, if you’re not against one more cop! I practised a little at university, I wasn’t bad,” he announces with pride.
Logan suddenly looks dubious. He gives me a sidelong glance, and I give him my most beautiful smirk meaning: good luck getting out of the situation you put yourself in!
“Well…” starts the paramedic.
“Great!” exclaims Anthony.
Logan opens his mouth, but no protest comes out. I understand that Anthony considers that he has a place on the team. It’s the second time this evening he has done that.
Not wanting to spend another minute with him, and since I’m done with the paramedics, I slip away.
“Chief,” I greeted my supervisor.
“Miss Basso, nothing broken, I hope?”
“No, sir, just a little blood. But I’m good,” I said lightly.
“I wasn’t worried, I know you’re strong. Since you’re operational again, I would like you to inform these two gentlemen that they must follow us to the station. To tell the truth, I had the idea that we could take Mr Tuffin with us, the other will come on his own, I think he’ll have to take a little detour to the hospital.
“Why not ask Mr Tuffin to meet us directly there too?”
“I’m not going to take the risk that he doesn’t go.”
“But can we trust the other one?”
I know I shouldn’t argue with my boss’s orders, but I don’t understand his logic.
“According to witnesses, it wasn’t he who started the fight, in my opinion, he’ll want to file a complaint.”
Was it Mark who started it?
“Okay, I see.”
“Don’t forget to handcuff him.”
“Handcuffs? Is he in custody?”
“He did enough damage. When we see your face and that of the poor fellow he attacked.”
I turn my head towards the individual who was fighting with Mark. From what I understand, this is a musician who was playing in the restaurant for the evening. Why did Mark throw himself at him? No idea. I don’t think it’s because of a musical disagreement.
I don’t want to contradict my boss twice in less than two minutes, but I try anyway:
“I know Mark Tuffin a little, sir. I think he’ll follow us without making a fuss.”
My boss looks at me with a frown. Is it because of my impertinence? He answers me, annoyed:
“Miss Basso, unfortunately, I have dealt too many times with this young man to give him the benefit of the doubt. Now do your job.”
I am surprised that he alludes to Mark’s criminal past. Well, criminal, I never got the details, but we weren’t talking about anything serious either, I believe. Just enough to make him endure a few hours at the station with a summons from his parents, or a few fines. I also know my boss, everything in his head is white or black, grey doesn’t exist. If he has decided that you’re on the wrong side of the law, it will be very hard to cross the border back again.
So I go to the side of the room where Mark was sitting, his wrestling buddy having been put in the ambulance, I suppose, to separate them, but also because he’s a little more messed up. Mark has an ice pack on his hand, but other than that he looks to be doing pretty well for a guy who just got into a fight. He’s surrounded by Marie-Jo and Erik who talk with him in low voices. Mark seems lost in his thoughts. One of my colleagues is keeping an eye on him. Why didn’t the chief ask him to make the arrest?
“Hi… uh…” I started.
Three pairs of eyes turn to me, certainly dazzled by my unparalleled speech. I clear my throat and try to sound a little more confident. Okay, I’m talking to a guy I like, but since I’m not inviting him for a drink either, I have no fear. I’m a professional.
“Mark, you’re going to have to come with us to the station.”
I see Marie-Jo frowning out of the corner of my eye. Mark gets up without a word and signals me to follow him. Ouch, this is where the awkward moment comes in.
“To be honest, the chief asked me to handcuff you. I’m sorry…”
I don’t have time to add anything, Marie-Jo explodes:
“Handcuffs? Are you crazy!”
I’m about to answer, but Mark does it for me, in a lifeless voice:
“Forget it, Marie-Jo, I don’t have a problem with that.”
Doesn’t this pose a problem for him? Indeed, I don’t have twenty years of experience behind me, but I have never, and I mean never, met a suspect who would accept shackles on his wrists without the slightest protest.
I hesitate for a second, then I pull the metal cuffs out of their holster on my belt. Mark obediently holds out his hands to me. An idea crosses my mind. I dreamed a thousand times of grabbing his arms, but it wasn’t to do this. Well, to be completely honest, maybe one day I let my imagination run wild and a pair of handcuffs were involved… but in my version, we were alone, in a bed, and a lot less dressed. And of course, now that I think about it, I can feel the red rise in my cheeks! I try to do it as quickly as possible. As soon as I let go of his arm, everything will be better. But inevitably, by wanting to hurry, I squeeze too hard. Mark flinches. I’m sorry, I realise that I’m redder and redder, I’m hot. Damn it! I messed up this guy more in one night than the guy he fought with!
“You want to put on a jacket for…”
I point my chin at his shackled wrists. There are people in front of the Café de la Place, he’ll already have to make his exit in the police car, I can perhaps prevent everyone from seeing him handcuffed.
“I don’t have a jacket.”
“Okay... so let’s go.”
I hesitate to grab his arm. But something tells me that he’ll follow me without my having to force him to do so.
We leave the restaurant and walk past the ambulance. The back door is open, the other fighter is sitting on the stretcher, a paramedic is disinfecting his cheekbone. It was then that a detail surprised me. Next to him is a young auburn woman whom I know well. This is Jenny, Mark’s girlfriend. Why is she alongside the musician and not Mark? Mark walks with his eyes riveted on the ground, and I have the feeling that it’s not because he’s afraid of falling. He doesn’t want to see them.
Suddenly there is something very clear about this whole story: Jenny is certainly the key to it.
- Writer
