by L. J. Sealey
Unbelievable.
Michael squeezed his way through to the front. There were two police cars, lights still flashing, and an ambulance was just pulling up beside them. Officers were ushering the on-lookers to stand back including Michael now. He stretched his head to glance around the officer that was standing in front of him and could see a gray blanket covering every inch of what appeared to be a body on the ground. Whoever it was was dead. Another jumper he presumed.
He watched as one of the medical crew pulled back the blanket. A young girl with blond hair lay still and lifeless with her eyes wide open. She was dressed in her night clothes−light blue pyjamas from what he could see−and there was a pool of blood by her head. One of the ambulance crew checked her over only to confirm the obvious and placed the blanket back over her face. He heard sobs in the crowd and one girl fainted across the way from where he was standing. An officer went to assist her followed by a medic. This was the fifth suicide in just over a week and Michael knew that if he didn’t find out what was going on pretty quickly it wasn’t going to be the last.
* * *
The ambulance had taken the body away and, after taping off the area where the body had been with yellow tape, most of the police had gone. Students had begun to return to their rooms. Most were still shocked and upset by what they had just seen. A few of the officers had stayed behind to get statements and any other information they needed from witnesses.
Michael made his way back to his building.
Before going back to his room he bought a hot cup of coffee from the vending machine and decided to hang around downstairs for a little while. There was a security guard, a large man with graying hair and moustache, now sat behind the desk watching a small portable TV.
Michael noticed the guard watching him as he sat on one of the sofas near the door.
“Have you just come from the drama?” the guard asked with a deep gravelly voice. He had a strong accent. Michael guessed from the south somewhere−Texas maybe?
“Yes. Were you there?” Michael replied.
“I was the one who called it in.”
“You found her?” He sipped on his coffee.
“I sure did. I was out doin’ my rounds. By then there was nothin’ could be done for her, poor soul.” He had no idea how right he was about that. Committing suicide definitely wasn’t the best thing for her soul. “Cops just took my statement. Makes you wonder what’s goin’ through these kids’ minds. It’s gettin’ crazy ‘round here lately.”
He reached over and turned the sound down on his TV. “Haven’t seen you before. You new here?”
“Yeah. Just got here today. I’m filling in for someone. I’m only here for a couple of months.” That was only partly true. He hoped his investigation wouldn’t take anywhere near that long.
“Well. You couldn’t have come at a stranger time,” the guard said. Then he turned the sound back up on the TV, leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the counter.
Michael finished his coffee which was just as well as the guard was clearly done with the chit-chat. He needed to wait until the heat died down a little over the new jumper before asking any questions so he figured he might as well go up to his room and get back to what he was doing before he completely gave up on the idea of studying for the next four or five hours. His first class was at nine and, although he couldn’t care less about his teaching skills (or lack thereof), he had to make a good impression on his first day so he needed to make sure he was ready for it; putting it off wasn’t going to help. Why couldn’t the position have been for something more interesting like football coach? But he soon realised he wouldn’t be much good at that either.
CHAPTER FOUR
Time had passed quite quickly once Michael had managed to get his head back into his research. By the time he’d finished piecing his class together and gathering up his notes on Statistical Methods and Social Cognitive Theory, his laptop clock read 07:15. He powered down and after a quick shower, rummaged through his only bag of clothes−which was actually a canvas sack, like the ones you got in the army−and pulled out a navy blue shirt and a gray pair of trousers. They were crumpled but clean. Still, he wasn’t going to look good turning up for his first day of work looking like he’d just stepped out of a tumble dryer. He looked through the kitchen cupboards and thankfully found an iron and did his best to iron the clothes on the counter top which wasn’t easy but he somehow managed. They weren’t perfect, but it was a big improvement.
He quickly ran his fingers through his deep blond hair in the bathroom mirror until he had some kind of style before heading out early for some breakfast.
It was already busy in the large dining room situated in the main building to the front of the campus. Michael stood in line at the food counter with mostly other members of staff. There were one or two students about but not many due to the fact that most classes−for them anyway−didn’t start until nine. He helped himself to the various hot breakfast buffet items on offer, piling his plate high with bacon, scrambled egg and hash browns, before grabbing a cup of coffee from the machine and paying the rather grumpy looking cashier. She was an old, gray haired lady who clearly looked like she’d had enough of the job because she’d probably worked there for far too long. He was beginning to think that all the staff were miserable in this place. Well. . . all except one. Lacy Holloway couldn’t be included in that thought because she’d been pleasant with him yesterday.
He sat at a vacant table by the far window overlooking the main parking lot and placed his bag−which was full of his research and notes−down on an empty chair next to him and tucked into his food.
It wasn’t long before he was interrupted and a pleasant scent of rose mixed with a hint of apple filled his nose.
“Michael? Hi,” a pleasant female voice said. He recognised the soft British accent of Miss Holloway straight away and when he looked up she was standing across the table smiling at him, her large, pale green eyes smiling with her. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail except for a few wispy strands that fell either side of her face. She was dressed in a beige pencil skirt that stopped just below her knees and a black short sleeved blouse, holding a blue file in one hand and a breakfast bar and juice bottle in the other. “May I join you?”
She’d been kind enough to spend the time explaining things and showing him around the place just after he’d arrived yesterday which made him grateful for that and the fact that he felt like he actually knew someone now.
“Hi, Lacy. Yeah. Sure,”
She sat down at the opposite side of the table, freeing up her hands and pulling the straw from her juice box. “So, are you ready for your first day?” she asked as she pierced the little round hole on the top with it and took a sip.
“Yes. I am actually. A little apprehensive maybe, but I’m looking forward to it.” Was he hell! He had no idea what he was doing but it was hardly the worst thing he’d ever had to do so he’d get through it somehow.
He threw a convincing smile at her.
“You’ll be fine. They’re really not a bad bunch. I’ve taught Joanne’s class a couple of times when she’d had doctor’s appointments.”
Michael liked her. She was easy to talk to−friendly, and her perfume made the air around them fresh and comforting. He decided to casually ask about what happened last night to see what she knew of it all, if anything. “Terrible what happened last night wasn’t it? That’s five all together isn’t it?”
“Yes. I was filled in when I arrived here this morning. I’ve heard that there are going to be police patrolling the campus for a while.” She sighed heavily. “I can’t believe what’s happening. They’re saying it’s a suicide pact. Even though we know that these kinds of pacts are usually made because suicide to an individual is so daunting that they can't face it alone, there’s also a chance that the victims have no connection to each other. Apparently the local media have been asked by the authorities to hold off printing their article about this
latest one. They fear the more media exposure, the more copycat deaths. It’s just so awful. ”
Michael took another sip of his coffee and then swilled what little was left around the bottom of his cup. He nodded. “Did you know any of them?”
“No. None of them were in psychology. I’m glad I didn’t. It saddens me enough as it is and I daren’t think of their poor families.” She took another sip of her drink.
“She looked young,” he said before drinking the last of his coffee.
“You saw her?” Lacy looked surprised.
“Yeah. I heard the sirens from my room and went to see what was happening.” He shook his head. “Such a waste of life.”
“Indeed,” she said, and for a moment it looked like her mind had wondered somewhere else. Then she blinked and looked at him again. “I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Michael wasn’t convinced.
After a short silence, Lacy looked at her small black leather strapped watch. “I better get going.” She grabbed her stuff. “I have to finish preparing an assignment. Good luck today.”
He laughed. “I think I’ll need it.”
She smiled at him. “You’ll be fine. If you need anything at all just come and see me. I’m in room M103 for most of the day.”
“Thanks.”
“Bye, Michael.”
“Bye.” He watched her walk away happy to know at least one person.
He finished up and decided to head for his first class. No use trying to put it off. He had no choice but to get on with it and hope that the day wouldn’t be a complete disaster.
He walked along the old, dark corridor of the psychology department. The building at the west side of the campus was the oldest on site and the many wooden classroom doors all looked the same, each with small plastic plaques on them containing white class numbers. He finally reached his room−CS101−and hesitated for a moment with his hand on the handle. He felt nervous, which was strange. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Get a grip, Michael! He told himself, clutching his file under his arm. He took in a deep breath, turned the handle and walked in to face a large room full of faces that looked up at him all at once. Damn! He thought, feeling like a rat in a cage. Here goes.
* * *
Michael was back in his apartment by three.
He sat in blissful silence. He’d done it.
Relief washed over him quickly as he sat leaning on the dining table with his head in his hands. He’d managed to get through it. There were no hiccups, no one had questioned his work and he hadn’t made a fool of himself like he thought he would. He’d survived it. No more classes or lectures for today. Thank God.
He’d grabbed a coffee from the machine downstairs on his way back and was about to enjoy it when the phone rang. He reached over and grabbed the handset from its cradle on the kitchen counter and answered, “Hello.”
“Hello, Mr Warden?” a male voice said at the other end.
“Yes, speaking.”
“I’m from Oakly Laundry services. Your suit is ready, sir.”
Michael had dropped it into them yesterday afternoon, but had forgotten all about it with everything that had happened. “Oh. Great. I’ll come and collect it. What time do you close up?”
“Five-thirty, sir.”
“I’ll be there before then. Thanks very much.”
“You’re welcome.” The voice said before hanging up.
Michael didn’t have much but there were a few things he always made sure he did have: a computer, for research purposes; a heap of fake ID’s, for when he needed to be someone else; a gun, which he’d stored away under a loosened floorboard by his bed; and a good suit.
He had the rest of the day off so he figured it was a good time to go into town and pick up his suit and get some groceries and a few other things he needed.
Oakland was a small town. There seemed to be plenty of stores, though they were all pretty small: thrift stores, grocery stores, coffee bars, the odd second hand book store and a sports store which sold mostly college stuff.
After picking up his suit and grabbing some groceries from the store across the street from the cleaners, Michael began to head back to his car. He noticed a young man leaning against a wall by the bus shelter up ahead, hood up, smoking a cigarette. As he got closer, the man looked up at him and as soon as he saw Michael he pushed himself from the wall and began to walk away. It was Jake, the guy he’d seen Nina leaving the bar with last night.
Michael called out to him as he upped his pace. “Hey!”
The young man stopped and slowly turned around. His black, hooded top was torn on the arm and his scruffy indigo jeans didn’t fare much better. The guy lifted his head and as he stood and stared, as if Michael had inconvenienced him, he played with the piercing in his bottom lip with his tongue. Michael saw another stud in his left eyebrow.
“You go to SPU right?” Michael asked.
Jake flicked away what was left of his cigarette; sparks flickered from it when it hit the ground a few feet away. “Yeah. I’ve got no classes this afternoon though.”
“That’s ok. I just saw you last night with Nina. You were leaving the bar with her right?” Michael tried to sound as casual as possible.
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Why?”
“Well it looked like you were arguing. Is everything all right? I’m a little concerned about her that’s all.” Michael explained. He was just clutching at straws, but he had a feeling that something was going on between the two of them and found it a little strange given how upset Nina was last night about her boyfriend dying. It was probably nothing, but it was an avenue he felt he had to explore before he could move on.
“She was just in a weird kind of mood. She’s like that. She stormed off back to her dorm or something, I guess,” he replied. His voice was almost as blank as his expression. His eyes were framed by dark circles and his skin was pale. He looked like he needed a good sleep, and a long soak in the bath.
There was his first lie. Michael thought. Jake had definitely been the aggressor outside the bar and Nina had been visibly upset by it. Not realising that Michael had spoken to her straight after, Jake was trying to pull a fast one and he wasn’t buying it.
He had to find out if there was a connection between Nina’s dead boyfriend and Jake. “You’re her friend right?”
Jake was beginning to fidget, pulling the zip on his sweater up and down. “Yeah.”
“So, how well did you know her boyfriend? Danny, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t. Look. . . I gotta go.” He pulled another cigarette from his pocket then turned and walked away.
Michael raised his voice after him. “You’ll let me know if she needs anything won’t you.” No answer.
He needed to have another conversation with Nina.
* * *
Later that evening, after Michael had eaten some frozen pizza that he’d burned for himself, he’d decided to take a walk over to Lucky Seven’s figuring if he was going to bump into Nina that would probably be the place. It was a modern looking bar: lots of dark wooden beams across the ceiling, a dark wood floor, and a large round bar in the center which was lit with color changing panels all across the bottom. Apart from some more of the same panels around the edge of the ceiling, there wasn’t much light to speak of. His eyes scanned the place but there was no sign of Nina or Jake. It was busy, mostly students, and yeah, he felt a little out of place so he ordered a beer and found a corner where he could keep his eye on the entrance and still hide away quite easily.
Or so he thought. . .
“Hi, Mr Warden,” one of three girls said, all were smiling, as they passed his table. Students he recognised from one of his classes earlier. He acknowledged them with a smile and carried on with his beer.
About an hour passed and there was still no sign of either of them. Michael was on his third beer and was still sitting alone, even though another one of his students had asked if he’d wanted to join him and his friends fo
r a game of pool over in the other corner. He’d politely declined.
He was about to give up and try somewhere else when he caught sight of Jake amongst a crowd who came walking through the door. He was on his own. Michael sat back in his seat and watched as Jake scanned his eyes around the room then ordered a drink at the bar. He seemed anxious, looking over at the door every time it opened. There was no doubt he was waiting for someone; could be Nina. Hopefully, he’d find out soon enough.
Another hour soon passed and Michael was beginning to get a headache from the Indie music that was blaring through the sound system: At the moment, some guy was singing about a girl out of her head and staring at the ceiling. It was no wonder half the campus was suicidal. He watched as Jake threw back the last of his Corona and headed for the exit. Looked like whoever he was meeting had stood him up and he was clearly pissed off about it. Michael got up to follow him out and got collared by the girl who’d smiled at him earlier. “Mr Warden, I was wondering if−”
“Not now. I have to go. Sorry.” He dismissed her quickly but by the time he’d gotten outside Jake had gone. “Shit!” He looked around but there was no sign of him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Days had passed and Michael had seen nothing of Jake or Nina; in fact, things were quiet, a little too quiet. Apart from working, he’d spent most of his time doing research on the internet and finding out who the friends of the dead students were. He’d gathered a list of those who he wanted to speak to so he could see if he could find out if there was any connection whatsoever between those who had died. There had to be something. Even though the cops had asked all the questions they could and had concluded that none of them even knew each other, there still had to be something they were missing.
