Sweet Oblivion

by Rhiana Ramsey

  Ben rubbed his head and face, he was exhausted too. He hadn’t slept for days, the worries of the future keeping him awake at night. His company, that he had worked so hard to build, was teetering on the brink of collapse, a former employee was threatening to sue him and he’d roped Louise into it by simply being her friend.

  ‘Right, let’s think about this. What’s the worst he can do?’ Louise stated, her brain running through options and ideas.

  ‘We can legitimately show that redundancies are necessary for the survival of Biztalk, we can show that he is one of the least productive staff on the books and would therefore be a candidate for redundancy, we can show that he has a personal vendetta against me…You know I don’t think this is actually that bad Ben when you stop and think about it. It just means we’re going to have one ugly fight.’

  ‘An ugly, costly fight. What if I lose? Think of the costs. Maybe I should speak to him and find out what his price is?’

  ‘Ben! No you can’t! You cannot give in to this bastard. He’ll want reinstating for one and there is no way that can happen.’

  ‘You’re right, you’re right,’ Ben agreed.

  ‘I say go and find yourself an awesome lawyer and wait for the court summons to come through. He could be bluffing after all.’

  ‘I don’t think so somehow, he’s obviously thought this through. Why else would he take the pictures?’

  ‘Hmmm… I guess this means we shouldn’t really see much of each other over the next few days or weeks? People might actually start to believe Derek if we’re seen out together,’ Louise asked.

  ‘Fuck that Louise. I will not let him dictate my life and you shouldn’t either.’ Ben rarely swore and his use of the expletive made Louise realise just how upset he truly was over the whole thing.

  Louise smiled at him.

  ‘I’m glad you said that. You’re the only person I can talk to at the moment.’

  Ben answered something but Louise could no longer hear him, her attention was drawn to the front cover of the newspaper Ben had placed on the kitchen table. The headline mentioned something about murder and two photographs of the victims occupied the front page. The man on the right looked familiar to her, she racked her brain trying to work out where she had seen him before.

  ‘… I don’t know how much a lawyer will cost but I guess I might be able to find one of those no win, no fee firms…’ Ben continued.

  She had definitely seen this man before.

  Where dammit? Where do I know that face from?

  She picked up the paper and began to read the article.

  ‘Lou, are you listening to me?’

  ‘I know this guy,’ she said.

  ‘Which guy?’ Ben asked quizzically.

  She turned the paper round so Ben cold see the front cover.

  ‘This guy Ben. The second victim, ‘Mark Faversham’,’ she read his name from under his photograph. ‘He’s the guy! He’s the guy that spoke to me that day at the tube station. The one who said: ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ What the fuck?’ she looked at Ben, her face knotted with confusion.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah!’ she glanced up and saw that at that precise moment the TV was also showing a segment on the murders of the two men.

  She raced into the living room, grabbed the TV remote and turned up the volume, listening attentively to the news report. Ben followed her out of the kitchen wondering what had suddenly grabbed her interest.

  ‘Holy fuck. Two guys murdered, by a woman they reckon! My God and he spoke to me like he knew me. How did he know me Ben? I swear I’d never seen him before that day.’

  ‘Maybe he mistook you for someone else?’ Ben offered.

  ‘Yeah maybe. Do you think I should tell the police?’

  ‘Tell them what? That he spoke to you? Doesn’t really advance any investigation does it?’

  ‘No I guess not, especially as I don’t even know where he is supposed to know me from. Jesus, this is all so weird. I feel like I’m living in some sort of twisted parallel universe.’

  They stood there together watching the segment, both wondering what had happened to their nice ordered lives, what had happened to their rosy futures which had seemed so certain up until a few days ago. Louise’s brain was doing somersaults, her mind was reeling. As if things weren’t odd enough already.

  A noise by the front door broke their reverie.

  ‘Postie,’ Louise said.

  On cue the letter box opened and several envelopes were pushed through, pattering to the ground in an untidy heap.

  ‘Shall we get out of here?’ Louise asked. ‘I could really do with some air to clear my thoughts.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Ben concurred.

  Louise grabbed a jacket from the hook on the wall next to her front door, stooped to collect the envelopes, placed them on the small table that held her keys and opened the front door. She didn’t inspect the post she had received for if she had she would have seen that one of the envelopes had been hand written in a tight floral script, a hand writing not dissimilar to her own.

  For now though the post was ignored and she headed out the door with Ben, chatting about a great café down the road where they would be able to get a fabulous fried breakfast, she was in the mood for stodge and whatever happened, her life couldn’t get any stranger. She didn’t know then how wrong she was.

  ************************************************

  DI Robert Scott sat outside Superintendent Meadows’s office, unimpressed at being made to wait, he kept catching Meadows’s PA’s eye and it was getting embarrassing. She was a good looking woman, but he wasn’t looking at her because he fancied her, which is what she probably thought, he was simply looking at her because he was bored and her head was blocking his view out the window.

  ‘Shouldn’t be much longer now sir,’ she said politely as Robert caught her eye once again.

  ‘No problem,’ he muttered, swiftly looking away. He was so angry about the news report he’d seen the night before, and further infuriated by Meadows’s failure to take his calls that he had stormed over to Meadows’s office first thing after his morning briefing to confront the man, who now seemed to be studiously avoiding him, probably hoping that if he made Robert wait long enough he would eventually waft away like a bad smell. He’d already been waiting for 15 minutes, his leg angrily twitching as he sat, quietly fuming.

  They’d already had 22 crank calls since Meadows’s big-mouthed report, 22 calls his officers had to look into, 22 calls that were wasting his officers’ time, 22 calls that would probably take them precisely nowhere further forward.

  In all his years as a police officer, Robert had only once received a genuine tip off that had directly led to the arrest of a criminal they were actually looking for after the release of an appeal for information when they didn’t have a suspect photograph, and that had only been because the suspect’s ex-wife was only too delighted to have her chance to inform them as to the whereabouts of the man that had royally screwed her over with his philandering and criminal activities.

  If they had a picture of their suspect, if the press had released that, then he would have taken these phone calls a lot more seriously. For now though, they were simply a nuisance that he didn’t have the time or resources to follow up on.

  That morning his officers were following up other various lines of enquiry, none of which Robert honestly expected to yield results. At the moment the victims’ computers were the best sources of potential evidence that Robert could think of; he hoped it wouldn’t take Ian long to find some commonality between the two machines. All they needed was a site name, a user name, anything which could link both victims to the killer.

  The killer. He wondered what she was thinking about the news report, would she be pleased, pissed off or indifferent? Would she be proud, gloating? He decided she probably didn’t even care. After all to be committing murders of this sort she probably possessed a supreme arrogance that she wouldn’t ge
t caught, she was certainly exceptionally careful at the crime scenes not to leave a trace.

  He wondered how she had received Meadows’s revelation that they knew the killer was a woman? Maybe she would come after Meadows? Perhaps he should consider offering Meadows some form of security detail? Ultimately, Robert decided that Meadows would just have to take his chances, after all it was his own silly fault if he wanted to go and have his huge head broadcast into the living rooms of the unsuspecting British public.

  He briefly pondered how guilty he would feel if Meadows did indeed end up being a victim and decided that the worst thing about that scenario would be seeing the boss’s flabby body sprawled naked on a bed, no cuts between his legs as, let’s face it, the boss had no balls. Robert chuckled to himself, the thought cheering him up immensely.

  The door to the office opened and Meadows’s considerable bulk loomed large in the doorway.

  ‘Robert, come in.’

  Robert followed his boss into the spacious office and followed his example, sitting himself at the circular table in the corner of the room. There was a large mahogany desk at the back of the room which boasted a state of the art computer, a mountain of paper work, which Robert suspected Meadows may have just put there to make himself look important, and a couple of photographs of Meadows’s wife and daughters.

  ‘I guess you’re here because of the press release?’ Meadows initiated the conversation.

  ‘Yes. I had to come and see you, face to face, to see if you have any idea at all of the shit storm you have created by revealing the killer is a woman? To see if you have any inclination as to the extra amount of work you are causing my detectives? To see if you actually even care about this enquiry at all?’ Robert’s tone was measured; he was trying very hard not to loose his temper.

  Meadows looked at him for a moment, annoyed with Robert’s blatant lack of respect for his rank.

  ‘You think my comments to the press have anything to do with your office receiving crank calls? Even if I hadn’t suggested that maybe the killer was a woman, do you really think you wouldn’t still have had crank calls, time-wasters calling up trying to do their civic duty? Wake up Robert. This isn’t about what I said at all, it’s about the fact I organised a press release without you.’

  ‘That’s bullshit and you know it. I don’t give a shit about the fact that you did this without consulting me. For all I care you could go on national TV and do naked cartwheels outside the front of the station, if that would make you happy. What I do have a problem with is that you have revealed a hugely significant detail far too early in this enquiry. You have put us under the spotlight and are exerting a massive amount of pressure on us to get results when you know too well that we are currently clutching at sweet FA.’

  ‘I would like to remind you who you are talking to inspector. What I say goes. You will simply have to deal with this as best you can. The media were due a release and I gave them one. You are assuming that you will not get any positive leads from this which, I would suggest, is quite close-minded.’

  Robert shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘How can you be so arrogant? Don’t you care that this is prejudicing our enquiry? Oh no that’s right, you’re looking for your next promotion. What do you care about solving crime?’ Robert could feel his temper rising, he swallowed hard to try and keep it under control.

  ‘How dare you come in here talking to me like that! If you’re not careful I will pull you off this investigation altogether and let headquarters run this enquiry instead.’

  ‘Don’t threaten me, sir, it’s not necessary. You known you have made this enquiry a hell of a lot harder by that TV appearance. My team is already working exceptionally hard on this case and now on top of what they’ve already got to do, they’re having to deal with this shit.’

  Meadows thought about this. He knew that the press release would probably shake the team up a bit but in his mind that wasn’t a bad thing. He had thought it might give them more focus knowing they were under the microscope and scrutiny of the public, he hadn’t even considered the additional work load it could generate. Robert was a difficult man to manage, stubborn and outspoken, but he was also an excellent detective with a natural instinct for tracking down criminals and an excellent manager; his team were very loyal to him.

  ‘Robert, are you saying you are unable to handle this enquiry now?’ Meadows asked, antagonistically.

  ‘No, that is not what I’m saying. I am saying that I am now under resourced; my detectives are being pulled in too many directions. I need more people.’

  ‘Fine. I will second three officers from Headquarters to your team for the duration of this enquiry. Their role will be to follow up the telephone leads. Better?’

  Robert was perplexed, it wasn’t like Meadows to try and be helpful; he felt instantly suspicious.

  ‘That would be helpful. What’s the catch?’

  ‘No catch. Maybe just pay me a little more respect next time. We are on the same side and I do want the same result as you,’ Meadows said.

  ‘Right, right. So you’re not thinking that if you have more officers on the team you’ll be able to take the credit when this is solved? And if we fail, well that’ll be the fault of my officers and my head will be on the chopping board instead of yours?’ Robert asked knowingly.

  ‘That’s particularly cynical Robert, even for you.’

  ‘Is it?’ Robert didn’t bother to wait for Meadows to respond, he’d had enough of the man for one day.

  He got up and headed out of the office, roughly pushing the door open. As he walked past the pretty PA, who was looking at him quizzically, he heard Meadows’s office door slam shut in his wake. He’d let Meadows’s officers deal with the cranks and he would be grateful for their assistance, but he was dammed if he was going to let that man believe for one moment that he didn’t know what he was up to. If it wasn’t bad enough having to try and second-guess the killer, Robert also had to try and second-guess his boss; it was exhausting.

  As he left the building and began his journey back to the police station, Robert decided it was time to attempt to break in to the bondage world. The Garden needed to be visited, they needed to try and break through the veil of anonymity that protected the clientele. He wasn’t expecting a friendly welcome, but what the hell, it wasn’t as if this enquiry was still under wraps, Meadows had seen to that. At this stage, they really had nothing to lose.

  Chapter XXVI

  The group of detectives stood outside The Garden like a group of under-age teenagers trying to buy alcohol from the local corner shop; excited, slightly nervous and desperately hoping to get what they had come there for.

  Robert, JB, Elizabeth and Tony had put themselves forward for tonight’s witness trawl, although each of them was exhausted from the amount of hours they had put in over the past few days, each of them was eager to try and find a witness or clue that could help them crack the case. This was what being a police detective was to them; it wasn’t just a job - it was their lives.

  ‘What? You’re coming too?’ Elizabeth had asked when Tony had also volunteered earlier in the evening briefing. ‘I thought you were totally against the alternative lifestyle and wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like that?’

  ‘That was before I knew it meant I would get to spend the evening with you,’ he’d replied, whispering into her ear. She’d smiled and wondered at the warm feeling his words had conjured in her midriff.

  Each of them was armed with a full colour head shot photograph of David Saunders and Mark Faversham which they were going to show to people in the club in the hope that someone might recognise either of the two men. They still didn’t have a photo of their killer, but if they were able to find a good enough witness who had seen either of the men with the killer, they could potentially produce an accurate e-fit picture of her, assuming of course their memory and descriptive skills were good enough.

  ‘Ok, here’s the plan. We go into the club and spread out, o
ne in each corner of the club, we will show pictures to as many people as possible and then get out of there. Once we’ve done inside the club we will come back out and show the pictures to punters going in. Once we’re happy the club is pretty much at capacity, we’ll bugger off and get some well earned sleep,’ Robert said.

  ‘If you feel like you’re making headway with anyone in there, ask them about regulars, female regulars, anything you think could be useful. I don’t want us to reveal too much though, the media haven’t got hold of the fact that there is a bondage element to these murders yet and I would like it to stay like that for now.

  ‘What do we tell the people in there then? They’re bound to ask why we’re trawling here in particular?’ JB asked.

  ‘Just say it was one of the last places David Saunders was seen alive. We don‘t actually know if Mark Faversham was here on the night of his death, but we’re showing his picture too as it is likely he was,’ Robert replied. ‘Just use your common sense people, go with your gut. If you think it’s worthwhile divulging more information about the case do it, but don’t get carried away.’

  ‘No worries guv,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘One last thing, I don’t know what goes on inside these clubs. If you observe any criminality, such as drug taking, drugs changing hands, I want you to ignore it.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Yes, we are here to solve a murder, that is it. This audience will be hostile enough without us arresting them for having a bit of blow,’ Robert stated.

  ‘You’re the boss,’ Tony acknowledged.

  ‘Right, we ready?’ Robert asked.

  The group confirmed they were and marched up towards the front door of the venue. Robert pushed the heavy outer door open and the detectives made their way into the vestibule area.

  The strains of loud hardcore music could be heard emanating from the club beyond and the pulsating lights of silver strobes periodically flickered out from underneath the door. The burly bouncer that Robert had seen previously eyed them up suspiciously as they made their way towards him, his long black coat swishing around his ankles as he turned to give them his full attention.