A Heart of Gold

Chapter 30

The toe of Ron's grungy work boot thumps like a heartbeat against the metal leg of the table.  The rhythm echoes off the tiled walls in the bright interrogation room.  He is hunched over the table in his mechanic's coverall, nervously drawing circles on the shiny surface with his finger, his hair flopped over his forehead.

Leo, conversely, sits relaxed, with his legs stretched out in front of him.  His wide, pleated trousers are unwrinkled and his loafers are shiny.  He leans his arm casually on the back of the empty chair next to him and twirls an unlit cigarette between his fingers. 

"Stop it." he growls.

Ron shoots him a sideways glare but when he meets Leo's frostier one, his gaze drops back to the table top like a scolded puppy.  He frowns and begins to pick at his cuticles, dark with grease. 

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

I've never watched anyone though one-way glass before.  It is an eerie experience.  Harry and I stand on the other side, waiting for his lawyers to arrive.  I breathe deeply and try not to fidget.  Harry stands like a block of ice.  He doesn't take his eyes from Leo and his anger seeps and fills this small space like a fog. He clutches my hand tightly.

Leo lets out a disgusted grunt.  He pushes away from the table and stands, but it is not a fluid movement.  He appears full of smug and swagger but his body tells a different story.  He is older and his frame is slight and stooped, perhaps from years of lugging heavy camera equipment or crouching in unnatural positions while lying in wait for his prey and I notice a limp in his step as he paces the perimeter of the room.  It's a wonder Jake didn't snap his arm when he had him pinned against the hood of Karen's car.

He brings an unlit cigarette to his lips, muscle memory making his head tilt to the side, and I can see a blue bruise brewing just under his right eye.

A similar darkness pools under Harry's eyes and it makes my heart ping.   Leo has brought back such heartache for him; the stress that paparazzi brought to him and the rest of the boys during the days of the band and, most painful, the way they marred his special friendship with Louis.  Neither of us has slept well since this nightmare began.  I marvel, though, at how those dark circles don't detract from his beauty.

"Can't believe I'm here," Ron moans.  "I'm gonna get fucking fired." 

"Relax, man.  Don't be such a wuss." Leo snaps.  "And don't act nervous, makes you look guilty."

He turns and looks directly into the mirror.  He knows we are watching him.  "Styles is a spoiled pussy.  He'll get knocked off his high horse eventually."  A sly smile plays at his lips and his eyes are defiant.  I feel Harry prickle next to me and I'm thankful this glass is between us, keeping Harry from lunging for Leo's throat.

Susan Bennett, the first of Harry's lawyers, arrives.  She clicks the door closed behind her and quietly lays her slim Prada briefcase on the table.  He acknowledges her with just a nod as he tracks Leo's movements around the room, like a wolf stalking its prey.  An ironic turn of events.

She speaks to Harry in low tones, reassuring him that this will be over soon.  Her prim bob is so flawless and smooth that it swings like a curtain when she moves. 

She whispers to him that the police and investigators now believe that he was indeed set up for the photos.  After interviewing Jake, Sofia's mother, Jane and us they have collected enough evidence to bring these two in for questioning.

She describes how Jeff and the rest of Harry's team have leapt immediately into damage-control mode, ready to spin whatever might have or might still come out regarding the photos.