Cut Down To Size: A Sebastian Cork Novel

by Neal Davies

  She can see how tired he is and she tilts her head lovingly. “Yes, my darling, I’m afraid it is. Are you sure you’re awake? I need to have my shower now.”

  Sebastian blinks hard in an attempt to shunt himself into an awakened state. It’s not too long before he has all his aching joints moving, so he briskly throws on his dressing gown, grabs his clothes and heads down the stairs to the guest bathroom to shower, which saves him time waiting for Cynthia to finish. He then moves quickly to the kitchen and puts the percolator on. When Cynthia finishes showering and joins Sebastian in the kitchen, she finds a perfect coffee and fruit toast waiting for her.

  “Well thank you, darling. What a pleasant surprise!”

  Sebastian, still at the toaster awaiting his fill, faces her and sardonically remarks, “What took you so long? A minute later and someone like Paul might have been sitting in your spot enjoying your lovely breakfast.” Sebastian chuckles at his own wit and turns back as his breakfast pops up from the toaster.

  Even though Cynthia generally has an unfailing ability to deal with Sebastian’s idiosyncrasies, her mood suddenly changes. “Let it go, Sebastian! You’re a big boy now. Get over it!”

  He finishes buttering his toast and parks himself at the table, takes a sip of his coffee and innocently smiles at her. She frowns back at him and he eventually breaks the silence.

  “Oh, come on, Cynthia! It was a joke and it was focused on how silly I acted moreso than aimed at you,” he protests rather weakly.

  Cynthia, quite aware of which way his sarcasm was directed, takes advantage of the situation and runs with it. “You’re right, Seb. I’m a bit touchy this morning. I should have known that after making this lovely breakfast you wouldn’t ruin it with a sarcastic comment towards me.”

  He looks up from cutting his toast and replies, “Exactly. Just a bit of a joke, that’s all.”

  Cynthia smiles beatifically while slightly tilting her head to the side. “I’m so glad you are over Paul arriving when he did and me giving him your breakfast. Sometimes you’re more understanding than I give you credit for.

  He withdraws his focus from his plate and smiles up at her, “There is nothing to get over, really,” he says with some renewed confidence.

  Cynthia stirs her coffee and looks into it as if mesmerised by its ripples. Dreamily she says, “I’m very pleased you feel that way, Seb. I was really concerned that it would put your working relationship in jeopardy.”

  Sebastian’s chin cocks back into his throat. “Not at all. I was never really angry with him. No, there was no real issue; I just found my routine out of order, that’s all. I actually like the young man, to be honest.”

  Cynthia smiles as if she is sincerely relieved about his newfound forgiveness. “That’s great, Seb. I rather like him too and I think we should ask Paul and his fiancée over for dinner one night.”

  Sebastian having taken rather a large bite of his toast gags and spits into his napkin, muttering under his breath. Cynthia, grinning like the Cheshire cat, enquires insincerely, “Are you okay, Seb? It seems like you may have bitten off a little more than you can chew.”

  Outside, a horn toots.

  “Paul’s here, my love. I have to go,” he says with a pasted smile. He kisses her and heads for the door but just before he gets out of the kitchen she calls out to him, “Sebastian!”

  He looks over his shoulder, “We will talk about it over dinner tonight but I really have to go now!” he replies, hoping she will have forgotten by then. She straightens her shoulders and glares at him in the motherly way which brings him to an abrupt halt. “Oh come on, Cynthia! I haven’t got time to discuss it now!” He says hastily.

  She places her hands on her hips and tilts forward like an aggravated hen. “I’m not about to discuss having dinner with Paul and his fiancée at this very moment, although I do intend to remind you later; I wanted to inform you why I arrived later to breakfast than usual this morning. I decided to go back to our room to see if you had remembered your folder, and of course, you hadn’t, so I brought it down with me and put it on the hallstand. All I wanted to say to you was, please make sure you grab it on your way out.”

  Sebastian closes his eyes, bows his head and grimaces. “Thank you, I do appreciate you doing that for me.”

  Cynthia walks over to him and kisses him on his lowered forehead, then smiles into his eyes while straightening his tie. “Now go or you’ll be late.” Sebastian heads for the front door and is about to open it when he hears, “Don’t forget the folder!” He glides back to the stand as if on ice, grabs the folder and his cane then hurries out the door and to the waiting navy blue sedan.

  Paul’s sitting patiently in the humming car when Sebastian opens the rear door, flings his folder and cane onto the seat and then plops himself down in the front passenger seat. “Morning Seb,” he says with a welcoming smile.

  “Good morning Paul. Why didn’t you come in for a coffee?”

  Paul waits patiently while Sebastian puts on his seatbelt. “I thought it might be a bad idea after yesterday. I know I mess around a bit at times but I really don’t want to overstep my boundaries with you.”

  If Sebastian wasn’t feeling down on himself before, he certainly is now. He’s already aware his old world, which remained unchanged for so many years, has converted from being confined to research, lecturing and counselling clients to dealing with another world that exists outside of what seems like his normality, so his immediate reaction is to set things right. “Look, Paul, what happened yesterday is dead and buried but what I’d like to do is ask you and your fiancée over for dinner one night so we can all get to know each other a little better.”

  Paul, driving towards the gates, turns his head slightly. “Okay, I guess.”

  Sebastian’s lip curls on one side. “Well, is that a yes or a no?”

  Paul replies, “Yes, Seb, just let me know when. By the way, how did you know I was engaged?”

  Feeling he has a ‘one up’ on Paul, Sebastian becomes mischievous. “Someone mentioned it to me at the station some time back. Anyway, that’s irrelevant. I’ll talk to Cynthia and arrange a time and date for dinner.” He removes his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and dials Cynthia and lets her know he’s invited Paul. She takes a while to respond as she really didn’t expect Sebastian to go along with her suggestion but is overjoyed that he has. Arrangements are made for a month’s time and Sebastian decides to find out a little more about Paul’s fiancée. “Tell me, Paul, where did you and your fiancée meet?”

  Paul is still having trouble coming to terms with Sebastian’s new found attitude, especially after yesterday’s confrontation. He finds the sincerity in Sebastian’s voice off-putting and can’t help but reply unsurely, “It’s a long story, Seb. Why?”

  Sebastian, who is always quick to let go of any indiscretions – especially if they are his own – can’t understand why Paul seems so apprehensive about answering his question. “Well, I just thought if you and your fiancée are coming over to dinner, I would like to be a little more informed. I’m sure it would enable better communication and make her feel more comfortable.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, Chelsea is a model and the first time I laid eyes on her was at the airport. She was on a photo shoot for a magazine and I had just finished a tour of Afghanistan. As soon as my plane landed I grabbed my gear and headed straight outside to hail a cab. Once I was outside, the photographer, lighting crew and models were all blocking my path so I told them I needed to get through. The dumbass photographer glared at me and yelled, “IMPOSSIBLE, YOU WILL JUST HAVE TO WAIT!” It had been a long flight and there was a lot of stuff going on in my head, so I brushed past the lighting crew and grabbed him by his shirt and said, “I’ve seen impossible where I’ve been and this isn’t even close!” I gave him a bit of a shove and kept walking. I was still in my military outfit and Chelsea connected immediately.

  Apparently she had lost a cousin after he came back from a long stint in the army
in Iraq. I guess he was no longer able to deal with the things he had seen and experienced, so the poor beggar ended it all by jumping off a bridge. At first, I thought Chelsea may have felt sorry for me but the more we saw each other, the more I understood that pity isn’t her thing, so I guess in some strange way she felt an affinity with me. Anyway, she grabbed my arm and asked if I would wait for her to finish the shoot, so I did. Later we went for drinks, as she wanted to know what it was like to fight in an unfamiliar place and how that would make her cousin change to the point where he would take his own life. We just seemed to hit it off that day and have been together ever since, although she does spend some long stretches overseas modelling at times.”

  Sebastian frowns. “I suppose she would. How do you cope with that?”

  Paul grins. “Skype, my friend, Skype.”

  They are only a few blocks from the station now and Sebastian spends the rest of the trip gazing placidly out of the car window, which makes the smooth drive to the office quiet but pleasant.

  Outside the station both of them alight simultaneously but just as Paul is about to lock the doors, Sebastian remembers. “Wait! I left my folder and cane on the back seat,” he bellows and turns back toward the car. Paul crosses his arms, focuses his eyes skyward while moving his head side to side in a disapproving manner. Sebastian snatches his belongings from the rear seat.

  Paul is waiting impatiently with pursed lips. “Is there anything else you’ve left in the car before I lock it?” he snaps cuttingly. Sebastian, still in a positive frame of mind after performing his good deed for the day, thinks that Paul is being courteous. “No but thanks for asking,” he replies respectfully, which aggravates Paul even further but he betrays nothing of his true feelings, unsure whether Sebastian is deliberately baiting him.

  Sebastian strolls past Paul in a nonchalant manner, then stops and looks back over his shoulder “Are you coming, Paul? Why is it you always seem to be lagging behind?”

  Paul sucks in a deep breath, looks skyward again, and then plummets his dead eyes until they focus directly into Sebastian’s. “I am so sorry, Seb. I have a bad habit of being ignorant and tardy. I need to work harder on these negative issues. Anyway, you go ahead. I really need to grab myself a coffee as I seem a little distracted this morning and a good espresso may be just the thing I need to pick me up.” He retorts sarcastically.

  Sebastian, as usual, has his focus on other things and responds, “Good for you, lad. I had a feeling you were having an off day and it takes a real man to admit it.” He heads to the station, whistling joyfully. Paul, in turn, fumes off toward the coffee shop at pace.

  Sebastian clamps the report between his arm and ribcage, strolls to the reception desk and begins chatting with one of the policemen. Eventually Paul joins him and Sebastian with his cane and folder and Paul sipping his coffee head off to Jim’s office. Emily, busily typing away with her earphones on, gets a start when Paul throws a crumpled piece of paper across her desk. “What the …! Hell, Paul, you scared the living daylights out of me!” she barks, as she pulls her earphones off.

  “Sorry Emily. I didn’t know what other way to get your attention. Is Jim in?”

  Emily, still a little disgruntled, replies disdainfully, “Of course he’s in and he wants to see the two of you immediately.” She hops out of her chair and announces their arrival.

  As they enter, Jim ceases pacing and begins fidgeting with items on his desk.

  “What’s wrong, Jim? You appear to be out of sorts.” Sebastian enquires.

  The Chief snaps, “I’ll be okay if you wrap up this case quick smart!”

  Sebastian has a brilliant mind and there are times where he shows signs of eccentricity but it would show exceptionally bad judgement to underestimate the man’s ability to perceive what others see as the unperceivable; so his mouth curls at one corner which, in turn, bends his nose in the same direction. “Okay. So what is it, Jim? Did the victim have connections in high places? Or more likely, I will say this killer has struck before and you have concerns that he or she will strike again.”

  As always, Jim finds himself surprised at Sebastian’s amazing insight. “We’ve been going through some of the cold cases and found two more murders that match the format of this one. The Commissioner has asked me to keep a cap on this possibly being a serial killer. We have informed the press that we can’t give any details of how the victim was murdered until we have received the Coroner’s report which we will delay for as long as possible. The moment that there’s any hint of there being a serial killer involved, there’s bound to be a public outcry, which in turn leads to pressure coming from above.”

  Sebastian cuts in, “And you’re sitting directly below the political draft so as you said, you want this case cleared up fast.”

  Jim now sits to attention. “Do you have any clues after viewing the crime scene?”

  Sebastian slides his folder across the desk and, in turn, Jim takes a folder from his desk drawer and passes it across to Sebastian. “Now here’s the file on the two prior murders. The only thing they had in common is they both frequented the same gym and, judging by the jogging suit our latest victim was wearing, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had been there as well.”

  “I’ve been asked by the commissioner to set up a task force but I know how you like to interview suspects and witnesses before their thoughts and remarks are inadvertently tainted. I’ve stalled putting it together momentarily but I can’t hold off forever, so I need the two of you on to this, pronto.”

  Sebastian thanks Jim for having faith in him, grabs the file from his desk and both he and Paul head down the corridor to Sebastian’s office, The Dust Pit. On arrival, they pull up a seat opposite each other Paul starts making phone calls to sponsors labelled on the dead man’s tracksuit, while Sebastian opens the manilla folder Jim has given him and begins perusing the previous victims’ files. The first is a salesman named Nathan Spedding, a single man who only lived in town for a few months before his murder. He had been found in the same manner as the dead man they had seen at the park; only Mr Spedding had been left on a railway station platform not far from Truscan Park. The second, Owen Coleman, was propped up under a tree in a nearby schoolyard overlooking its playground.

  After making a number of calls, Paul excitedly declares, “I’ve got him, Seb! The victim was Mike Cohen and he was about to be selected for the national triathlon team.” Sebastian, looking through a magnifying glass at photos from the latest crime scene, raises his eyebrows, tilts his head to one side; Paul knows exactly what that look means and stares up at the ceiling while moving his head from side to side. “Yes Seb, You were right as usual. You were also right when you said it may be a serial killer.”

  Sebastian puts his magnifying glass down and gives Paul his full focus. “I suggest you inform Jim of this so he can send someone around to notify the next of kin.”

  Paul rises to his feet. “I’ll get onto it now Seb, see you shortly.”

  Not long after he returns to find Sebastian still folded over his magnifying glass scanning the photos of Michael Cohen’s body. “All done, Seb, Jim said he will have someone out to their house within the hour.” Sebastian glances up, gives a nod and quickly focuses his eyes back on the photos.

  Without warning, he raises his head again and says, “Look at this, Paul!” He holds one of the photos up and continues, “There’s a small tattoo of what looks like an insect on the right knee. I thought it was a speck of dirt at first but upon closer inspection I could see it actually has legs. Here, use the magnifier. You’ll be able to see it better.”

  Paul looks carefully at the photo. “I could be wrong, Seb, but it looks like a flea.”

  “No, I don’t think you’re wrong at all. I’d say that’s exactly what it is and if you look carefully, you’ll see it’s been cut into the skin.”

  Paul frowns, “So what are you saying, Seb? Do you believe the killer may have put it there?”

  Sebastian peers up. “Yo
u know me better than that, Paul. I’m not saying anything, I just state the facts. But it is a possibility and if it is, then this little flea may have a large impact on the case. I think we need to pay Mike Cohen’s parents a visit. Paul, would you mind ringing them? Although you may have to make the call a bit later on to give them time to take in what has happened to their son and I think it would certainly be better if the call came from officialdom, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Paul’s eyes flitter back and forth in thought. “So when would you like me to arrange the meeting?”

  Sebastian, who has returned to examining the photo, creases his forehead as he looks up, “That’s a good question, Paul. I’m sure they will still be fairly incoherent due to the trauma of losing their son but if we don’t interview them quickly, vital recollections may be lost. Normally when we lose someone we tend to reflect on the good and bad times that we have had with those who have passed. What we actually need to know about, are others that the deceased has connected or associated with. So the quicker, the better; I think tomorrow morning would be an ideal time.”

  Paul nods in agreement.

  Sebastian rings Cynthia and asks if she can check the financial status of the Cohens as Paul looks through the other victims’ files. The morning turns into afternoon and Paul gets on the phone to the Cohens and arranges a meeting for the following morning. “All done Seb; we have to be at the Cohens around nine in the morning”.

  Sebastian looks up from what he is doing. “Good work, Paul! Now I need to stretch my legs and I think a coffee is in order as well. Can I get you one?”

  Paul has his head buried in his computer, checking if there is any criminal history regarding the Cohens and without looking up, replies, “That would be great Seb, I could really go for a pick me up.”

  Sebastian soon returns with two smoking mugs of coffee and places Paul’s on the desk next to him.

  “Thanks, Seb. It seems like the Cohens are squeaky clean; apart from a couple of speeding fines but that’s about it.” Just as Sebastian is about to reply his phone rings and Cynthia is on the other end.