Chantal van Mierlo - Julia Menken

She retrieved her phone from her bag and called Daniel. It went straight through to his voicemail. It was around midday: he should be on his way home. Perhaps he was in the car. She left him a message and then opted for her doctor’s number. The assistant’s cheery voice instantly irritated her.

“I’m calling about a repeat prescription.” She gave her name and date of birth.

“Which medicine is it for, madam?”

“Seresta.”

“OK, one moment please.” The assistant put her on hold, forcing her to listen to a mechanical sounding tune. She had a nagging headache behind her eyes and she told herself she would go home early today.

“Are you still there?”

Julia mumbled something.

“Doctor van Bernhove would like to briefly see you before issuing a repeat prescription.”

She sighed. Of course that was to be expected after their last conversation. They had a slot available at half past five. She put the phone back in her bag and took out a packet of cigarettes. She had bought them at the petrol station yesterday. Smoking was always a point of discussion between herself and Daniel. She had actually stopped years ago, but she needed the nicotine right now. She took a first drag and felt the tension slip away. She smoked her cigarette in peace and then walked back to the office.

She had only just sat back behind her laptop again when Justus put his head around the door.

“Can you come to the interview room? Gert Huisman is here, Brian’s dad.”

She grabbed her pen and notebook and walked across to the interview room, where she found Diego sitting opposite Brian’s dad. Mr Huisman was huddled together, like his grief was pressing down on his shoulders like a huge weight.

“Your son wanted to go to the doctor, but ended up at the Rietgrachtstraat. What was he doing there?”

The man shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said softly and stared at his hands.

“Did you speak to him that day?”

“I spoke to him on the phone in the morning and sent him a message in the afternoon to ask how he got on at the doctor’s, but he didn’t reply. I had been out in the taxi since seven o’clock that morning and after my shift I had gone straight to the factory.”

“Is that a normal daily routine for you?”

“It’s normal for me four days a week. I work alternating shifts and can effectively combine the two jobs.”

“And Brian was on his own on the days you drove your taxi?”

He looked up with tears in his eyes. “He was very independent. He seemed much older than he actually was. I thought it was OK. We needed the money.”

“Of course, I completely understand sir. It wasn’t an accusation, we’re just doing our best to reconstruct what Brian did that day as precisely as possible. It really helps us to know what his usual day-to-day life looked like,” Diego said.

“Did you give Brian lots of money?” Julia asked.

“I gave him a tenner pocket money a week. And he bought his own clothes, so that would have been another 50 euro a month for that.”

She was thinking about the branded clothing she had seen in his wardrobe and the brand new laptop. Individually those sweaters were worth more than Brian’s monthly budget.

“And did you ever give him expensive gifts?” she asked.

“No, ma’am, I can’t afford to.”

“But you have two jobs.”

He briefly looked at her with a hard look in his eyes and then lowered his head again. “I’m not proud of it.” He was fiddling with his hands. “I have debts to pay off. I had a hard time after Marlina’s death and I did some stupid things.”

Marlina. The blonde woman on the photographs. Diego had told her she had committed suicide. Julia sat up straight and exchanged a look with Diego, who shrugged his shoulders almost completely imperceptibly.

“I started gambling. Simply to give myself something else to think about. I don’t do that anymore. I stopped, but I still have some debts left to pay off.”

“Who do you owe money to?” Diego asked.

“Just with the bank.”

Julia listened to Diego finishing off the conversation, after which Gert Huisman was guided back outside again.

They both sat in silence for a while, completely absorbed in thought. Julia went through Brian’s dad’s answers again in her head. She thought about his demeanour during the interview. Intensely sad, but there was more.

“That man is not telling us everything,” she said. “Brian’s room was full of expensive things. Something’s not right.”

“Yes, I got that impression too,” Diego said.

“What do we know about the mum’s suicide?”

“Nothing yet. I’ve left that with Justus.”

“Didn’t they take statements from his friends too?”

“They visited all of his classmates. That lad, Boris, he came to the police station with his mum on his own accord yesterday,” Diego said.

“The throwing stones one.”

“Yes, he also confirmed Brian didn’t have any friends apart from him. I still find that rather odd.”

“I don’t know. I get the impression Brian has been through an awful lot over the last few years. A mother who decided to kill herself, a father who couldn’t deal with any of it and decided to gamble away his money. And all the while he was left to his own devices, with all of his grief,” Julia said.

“You don’t know that. He may well have had a really good relationship with his dad.”

“Yes, I know theoretically that’s perfectly possible, but listening to Mr Huisman, I think he was more focussed on his own problems.”

*

She had to go via the GP for her prescription on the way home. She had sat down in the chair opposite Dr Van Bernhove with clammy hands. He had been her GP since she had moved to Gouda eight years ago. He knew her entire history, including all the ugly phases of the last few years.

“You want some sleep medication?” he asked and looked at her over his reading glasses. There was no point lying to Van Bernhove, he knew her too well. She’d had more faith in him then all the psychologists she had spoken to.

“I can’t quite do without just yet.”

“But we had agreed you were going to wean off them, right?”

She nodded and stared at her hands, which lay folded in her lap. Why was this so damned hard? Surely he could just write her a piece of paper which she could take down to the pharmacy? Like she couldn’t get it from elsewhere if he didn’t prescribe them for her.

“I’m working on a case. Another child murder.” She stared out of the window. “It’s brought an awful lot back again and the nightmares have returned too. I can’t get to sleep without help. And I can’t function without sleep.”

“Mrs Menken, I can continue prescribing those tablets for you, but you know as well as I do that this ultimately won’t solve the problem. What does your psychiatrist say?”

“I haven’t been to see him for quite some time.”

“Shall we agree that I prescribe you a small amount of tablets, but that you make an appointment with the psychiatrist?”

She nodded.

*

She went straight to the pharmacy from the GP practice. She had corrected the prescription with a black pen. She needed more tablets. She added Provigil too, tablets which would help her to get rid of the subsequent dullness. She didn’t have a choice in this situation. She told herself she would stop as soon as this case was done and dusted. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she didn’t have time to go and see the psychiatrist. Plus those conversations generally just made her feel worse and she really couldn’t be doing with that right now, she was having a hard enough time keeping her head above water as it was.

She got back home before six o’clock. She could see a small figure running through the living room through the large window. Mees. She couldn’t wait to have a cuddle with him and listen to all of his stories about today’s events. She quickly went in and threw her handbag down near the coat rack. She could hear Evi’s high-pitched little voice, followed by a burst of laughter. She couldn’t help but smile.