Pretty Falling Pieces by Isabelle Culpo

Chapter Eighteen

Idrop the bottle in shock and the contents splatter across the bathroom sink.

Using a tissue I stand it back up on the counter. If my suspicions are confirmed, I don’t want to cover any fingerprints.

The scent is ten times stronger now that it’s out of the bottle and it makes me feel dizzy and nauseous. In a panicked frenzy, I pull open the bathroom cabinets anxious to see whether anything else has been tampered with.

Once again, at first glance everything seems normal.

Maybe I’m just being completely crazy, and the conditioner has turned and that’s the cause of the smell. It was a strong chemical odour and maybe I mistook it for something.

I don’t have much here because most of it I took down to Queenstown. One of the only things I left was the large bottle of mouthwash I had. The plastic packaging is hiding the contents, so I grab another tissue and open the lid, pouring some out in the sink.

As I pour the electric blue liquid down the drain I notice specs of white.

What on earth is that?

I can’t say as though I’ve ever paid much attention to the insides of the bottle before gargling it down my throat, but this does not look normal.

My stomach gets tighter by the minute, as though someone is reaching inside my gut and squeezing my organs with a death grip.

I leave my ensuite and decide to check the drawer of my bedside table that’s been left slightly ajar. I don’t want to touch anything and nothing out of the ordinary is jumping out at me. Just a handful of books neatly stacked in the corner, reading glasses, and a lavender scented hand cream.

Since I’m next to my bed I lift up the covers, I don’t know what I expect to find but instinct tells me to do it anyway.

Nothing.

Just crisp white sheets.

I pull back the pillows and that’s when I notice a corner of the sheet has been turned up.

I toss and turn during my sleep, often pulling the sheets and covers with me, so every morning when making my bed I ensure the bedding is tucked properly, never leaving the corners loose like it is now.

I reach underneath the bed to lift the sheet and when I pull it back, I’m left horrified.

A soiled, mouldy rag cloth is lying right underneath where my pillow would lie.

It looks like it’s been accumulating mould for weeks, the white fabric littered with black and green spots.

Ugh gross.

My sheets were recently changed and I’ve never seen that cloth before which can mean only one thing. Someone put it there.

My stomach bottoms out and I feel like I’m going to be sick. Had I not noticed this and waited another week to change my sheets I could have become seriously ill.

I rush back into the kitchen to grab my phone from my bag.

There’s a pounding in my ears that makes it difficult to think. My thumb shakes as I try to unlock the phone and my hand must be sweating because it won’t recognise my fingerprint.

Who do I call is my first thought.

The police?

Building security?

Norman?

Before I have a chance to decide, I hear a rustling from the cabinets. The sound stops before I get a chance to hear it clearly enough. It sounded as though it was coming from one of my bottom cabinets where I keep my dry pantry goods.

I crouch down and open the door hesitantly.

When I see the unmistakable length of tails, I let out a scream so piercing I’d be surprised if anyone in my building didn’t hear it.

My deepest fear.

Rats.

Multiples of them, crawling round in my kitchen cupboards.

Immediately I slam the door so hard and fast the sound hurts my ears.

That awful sensation of when you fear something and you feel like it’s all around you overcomes me, and I frantically check around my feet and behind me, terrified one’s about to start crawling up me.

In complete shock, I don’t even realise I’ve picked up the phone and called someone before I hear Theo on the line.

“Imogen, is everything okay?” he asks.

I want to speak but I can’t find the words, my throat feeling tight and constricted.

“Imogen, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he demands, this time sounding more concerned.

I take a deep breath and answer, “Can you come here please?” I barely manage to squeak out.

“Why? What’s going on?” His voice is breathy and short as if he’s running.

“I think someone’s been in my apartment.”

As I confess what’s happened to Theo all of a sudden I can’t hold back the tears anymore.

“Get out of there. I’m two minutes away.” Then he hangs up.

I could hear the sound of his ignition so I know he really will be here any moment.

Thank god he decided to go back into the office as opposed to his home, otherwise he would be at least another half an hour away by now.

I look down at my phone and see another text from Jess.

JESS:No why? What’s going on?

I don’t bother telling her yet, as I know she’ll be worried and want to come see me. Until I have a grip on the situation, I don’t think I can face telling her right now. I drop my phone on the counter and lean over it. Shaken and out of breath.

I’m terrified, but I know everything will be okay.

It could’ve taken me weeks to realise someone had tampered with my belongings.

At least I noticed it immediately.

As I try to gain composure over the situation, the reality of what could’ve happened hits me. Who knows what else has been done?

If someone really has been in here, then I have no way of knowing what’s salvageable.

Whoever’s responsible for this was clearly trying to get away with it unnoticed.

My heart breaks as I survey the rest of the room. This was my sanctuary, a little piece of heaven I created myself. When I was in Africa, I pined for the days where I could be here reading, cooking, or watching TV. Enjoying my perfectly curated pink and rose gold home.

I put so much of myself into this little apartment and now I don’t think I’ll ever be truly comfortable in here again.

Theo warned me to get out of here, but I can’t help myself from checking what else has been compromised. Careful not to touch anything, I look around the lounge area. I can’t think of how a couch and table could be vandalised but I check anyway.

The couch looks untouched, no sign of imprints of dents on the cushions. My coffee table books are still neatly stacked, the TV remotes are sitting in the exact same location, the bouquet of artificial peonies is still facing the correct direction but that’s when it catches my eye.

The vanilla bean diffuser.

It had been almost empty, and I’d made a mental note to replace it as I love having my apartment smell nice. The reeds still look saturated and ready to be replaced but the liquid inside the diffuser has been filled to the brim. I get closer to it and take a whiff.

That’s the smell I noticed earlier.

I catch my mistake immediately and back away from it.

What if it’s hazardous to breathe in? Or some sort of chemical weapon?

I need to get out of here now. Grabbing my handbag and suitcase, really my only “safe” belongings, I reach for the door to wait outside for him.

It isn’t long before I see him running down the hallway towards me and it’s enough to send me straight into his arms.

He pulls me towards him in a tight embrace and aside from last night it feels like the most intimate moment we’ve shared.

“The police are on their way,” he says, reassuringly.

Thank God. I’m glad he handled that for me.

“I’m going to take a look inside, but I want you to stay out here, okay?”

“What? Theo, no! It’s not safe in there, there’s a weird smell. Let’s just wait for the police.” I plead.

“Imogen, I need to see for myself what’s happened so I can find whoever the fuck did this to you.” He lets go of me and reaches for the door handle.

“Are you crazy? It’s a crime scene now and it’s not worth risking your safety over!” I’m holding my ground on this; I really don’t want anyone going in there until we know it’s safe.

I try another tactic. “Please, Theo. I don’t feel safe up here, let’s just go downstairs and wait for the police,” I beg, grabbing his hand.

He looks at me, gives my hand a tight squeeze then nods.

The twenty minute wait for the police to arrive passes by in a second.

I feel like I’ve already been through an inquisition with Theo’s questions.

Who do you think could’ve done this? I don’t know.

Did you see anyone?No.

Are you sure Jess is the only one with a key? Yes.

I’m going to kill whoever did this!Please don’t, then you’ll wind up in jail.

Theo stands to meet the police.

“Good afternoon, I’m Officer Herangi and this is my partner Officer Rajet,” one of the policemen says. “Is there anywhere private we can go to discuss further, Mr. Coleman?”

His voice sounds assured yet calm and his deep brown eyes appear sharp and intelligent.

“We can probably use one of the staff rooms,” I say. “I’ll just need to check with Norman.”

I head towards the reception and the other three follow behind me. No one is behind the desk, probably because it’s the weekend and everyone’s finished up for the day, but I try ringing the bell anyway.

Eventually, Norman appears.

When he sees us, his face slips but he quickly pulls it together. It reminds me of his strange reaction to me when I arrived. I doubt Norman would hurt a fly, so I don’t know why my mind is going there.

He probably just had that same initial fright many people get when they are confronted by the police. Even when they’ve done nothing wrong.

“Imogen, how can I help you?” he asks.

Officer Herangi answers for me, “Would you mind if we use one of your rooms out back?”

“Of course,” Norman replies, rounding the desk so he can let us in through the staff door.

He takes us to what I assume is the staff lunch room. “You won’t be bothered here,” he assures us. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. We shouldn’t be too long,” Officer Rajet replies and takes a seat at one of the tables.

“Ohh…well if there’s anything you need.”

“We’ll let you know, thank you.”

Norman nods then leaves, closing the door behind him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gone to fetch a glass to press against the wall.

“So, why don’t we start at the beginning. What happened when you returned to your apartment?” Herangi asks.

I relay the story to them, explaining Theo and I had been away for the past couple of days and when I came back, I noticed a strange smell in my apartment then the sink, conditioner, mold and the diffuser. When I get to the rats, the part I left out before, Theo loses it.

“What the fuck? This person’s psychotic. I can’t believe they’ve done this to you,” he says outraged.

“Please calm down, Mr. Coleman, we will do our best to find whoever’s responsible. Was there anything else unusual you noticed?” Rajet prompts.

“No, I left the apartment after that.”

“Okay, now is there anyone you know that may have had a reason to do this? Were there any conflicts prior to your trip to Queenstown? Anyone you know may have been mad at you?”

My mind immediately goes to Allie.

I suspected she’d resurface again to stir up things between Theo and I, but would she really go this far? Whoever did this is certifiably insane. Allie is the typical high school mean girl whose bark is worse than her bite. She’s narcissistic and cruel but not criminal.

At least I don’t think she is.

“No. I’ve been in Africa for the past year, and I have a tight social circle. There’s no one I know that would’ve done this.” I hang my head in my hands, feeling drained and confused.

“Look, I think we’ve got enough information for now. We’ll have a specialist team examine your apartment. I understand this must be very scary for you, but you need to leave it with us now. I suggest you get some rest. We’ll need you down at the station tomorrow morning, but for now our priority is completing the investigation of the scene.”

“Thank you for your time, officers.”

Once we’re out of the staff room and the police have taken the elevator to my apartment, I turn to Theo.

“Is it okay if I stay at your place? If not, I can always ask Jess if—”

“You shouldn’t even have to ask. You’re staying with me.”