The sharp ring of the doorbell made her jump. Sharp raps and shouts of ‘police’ followed the sound. She hurried to unlock the front door. The two uniformed officers stood in the doorway. Behind them, two paramedics in green and yellow overalls stood ready to enter.
“Alice Madsen? I’m Constable Aaron McNulty and this is Constable Stephanie Moore.”
“Are you all right, Alice?” Moore asked. “Are you injured?”
“I’m okay. I don’t need the ambulance.” She glanced at the beeping alarm panel.
“They need to check you, Alice,” Moore said. “Just in case.”
“May we come in?” McNulty asked. Without waiting for a reply, he entered. Alice shrugged and moved back. She waved them toward the kitchen and stood while they filed into the hall. She shut the door with a clunk and unset the alarm.
“Right, Alice. We need to check the house while the paramedics examine you. All right?”
“Yes. Yes. But...” Alice said.
“Okay, Alice.” McNulty raised a hand. “Like I said. Let’s secure the house first.”
While McNulty searched the house, Alice, Moore and the paramedics entered the kitchen. The first paramedic spoke to her. “Okay, Alice. I’m Tom and this is Susan. Why don't you sit down and let Susan have a quick look at you?”
“Did he harm you in any way?” Susan asked.
Alice nodded.
“How?”
Alice glanced at Tom, then looked at the floor. A glint of light caught her eye. Something had jammed in the crack between the kitchen island and the stone tiles. It looked like a sliver of glass, but she couldn’t be certain. She shuddered. The shape reminded her of Flanagan’s knife.
“It’s okay Alice,” said Susan. “Say, um, Tom’s going to get paperwork from the ambulance. Right Tom?”
Tom nodded and left, closing the kitchen door behind him.
“Alice, you can talk to me. It’s all right. PC Moore will take some notes for the record. Is this okay?”
Alice nodded. “Yes.”
“Did he sexually assault you?”
“He…he tied me to the bed. He h…had a knife.” Alice kept her eyes focused on the floor. “Then...”
“It’s okay Alice. Take your time.”
Alice’s bit down hard on her lip. It helped hold off the tears. She took several deep breaths. “Then he… he used the knife to cut off my underwear. He put his hands all over me. His finger... he put his finger inside me. He scratched my chest with the knife too. And there’s a cut on my neck. See?”
Susan leaned in and eased Alice’s chin up. “It’s just a small scratch. May I see the one on your chest?”
Alice snuffled and opened her robe. Susan nodded as she examined Alice’s chest. “Okay, Alice. You can cover up again. Thank you.”
“Will it scar? I have enough of them already. I don't want any more.”
“No. It’s not deep. It should heal in a few days.”
Alice dabbed her eyes and recovered her composure. She folded her arms tight against her chest. “Good. I don't want a doctor.”
Susan leaned in closer. “Look, I’d suggest you go to a Sexual Assault Referral Centre, they’re known as SARCs. There’s one not too far from here, it’s the Paddington Haven, near St Mary’s Hospital.”
“I don't know.”
“You may need a forensic medical examination if this case goes to court. You know, for evidence.”
“There was no penetration with his...” She shook her head. “Why can't I say the damn word?”
“It’s all right, Alice. You're safe. You can talk to me.”
She took a deep breath. “Not with his penis. He only used his finger.” She scoffed. “Only. As that counts for something. Only his finger...”
McNulty barged into the room, and all three women glared at him. McNulty took no notice. “There’s nobody else here,” he said. “How is she?”
Susan shook her head. “Alice is a victim of sexual assault. Traumatised, however, no obvious injuries requiring hospitalisation.”
Alice ran her teeth along her lip. It's as if I’m not here, she thought. “I’m fine,” Alice said. She looked at the paramedic. “Thanks. But I’m okay.”
Susan pulled out a notepad and wrote in it. She tore off a page and handed it to Alice. “The number for Paddington Haven. They’re available 24/7. You should at least talk to them. They’re very helpful.”
Alice took the paper and clutched it tight. She rubbed her eyes again and nodded. The kitchen felt crowded with the heavy uniforms and the weight of authority. She had no space. Indecipherable voices crackled on strangers’ radios. They forced themselves on her. The kitchen closed in. It grew smaller. Crushed her.
Then the other paramedic, Alice had already forgotten his name, poked his head into the kitchen, filling it further. A scream formed in Alice’s lungs. She wanted to vent with fury. To lash out. All the time her eyes remained rooted to the floor. She looked along a line of clumsy boots, each scuffed from contact with rough life. She blinked as she stared, thinking she now had her own scuff marks courtesy of Flanagan’s knife.
Alice looked up. McNulty shrugged at the paramedics. Moore looked at Alice. “Are you happy for the paramedics and the ambulance to leave, Alice?”
“Yes. Yes. Go. The kitchen is closing in on me. I can’t breathe.”
With a final sympathetic look at Alice, the two paramedics left, and she heard the front door click shut.
“Can you show us where it happened?” McNulty asked.
They climbed the stairs, and Alice led them into the main bedroom. It seemed different now, and she grimaced at the straps hanging limp at each corner. While the police stood by the door, she crossed to the bed and threw the duvet on it. When she turned back, the two police exchanged a querulous glance.
“Sorry, Alice,” McNulty said. “This is a crime scene. Please don't touch anything else.”
Alice shrugged and moved toward the door. “I was in bed. Asleep.” She
