by Neal Davies
Nothing still. Sebastian crosses his arms, looks to the roof of the car, then brings his eyes back down and simultaneously closes them as he sighs deeply. A few uncomfortable moments pass before he finally opens his eyes and breaks the silence:
“My goodness, man! I thought you would be the last person in this world who would say something like that to me!”
Paul is jolted out of his self-absorption. “Wha- what do you mean?”
Sebastian peers at him through narrowed eyes. “What do I mean? I will tell you what I mean! Every Tom, Dick and Harry who ever met me or heard of me thought I was some sort of super-genius; do you know the pressure that brings on someone to constantly perform at a certain level or even do better? It was a constant bloody nightmare, that’s what it was!”
“And just when I think I have found my escape from it all, working with someone I admire for their courage overseas in a horrible war and their down to earth characteristics, they turn around and tell me they’re overwhelmed by who I am! Now stop the bloody nonsense, make me feel human again and tell me what you bloody well observed!
Paul’s brow folds and he remains silent.
“Tell me something, Paul, before I make a fool of myself by assuming you have suddenly been struck dumb or perhaps you are bloody well deaf?”
Paul turns with a glazed over stare. “No, Seb, I haven’t been struck dumb and I haven’t lost my hearing either. As for your question, here is my answer: Gail seemed unsure about Kate’s name as if they’d never met and yet she went to the same gym as Michael and left when they apparently come to an agreement. I’m still not sure that an agreement was reached because she nervously scratched her face when she made that statement, therefore I would imagine they argued over her leaving the gym to pursue her own interests and that she is more familiar with Kate than she is making out.”
Sebastian looks out the side window at the scenery. Paul glances over at him at intermittent intervals and eventually exclaims, “Well?”
“Well what?”
Paul rolls his eyes. “Well, how did I do?”
Sebastian, waggling his head from side to side in an exaggerated motion, turns back to watching out the window.
Paul’s eyes flash with anger. He swings the car to the curb and brings it to a screeching halt. Sebastian and Paul are jolted forward and only the tension of their seatbelts prevents a couple of very sore heads; then they are flung hard back into their seats. Paul grips the wheel with both white-knuckled hands and Sebastian glares mindfully out the window, still and quiet for what seems like an eternity.
First to break the silence, Paul flicks a venomous stare in Sebastian’s direction and hisses “Now you can either answer me or get the hell out of the car and walk the rest of the way!”
Sebastian calmly turns and smiles pleasantly. “Good! Now we are back to some sort of normality… but a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“What?”
Sebastian strokes the dash while pushing his chin forward. “Melodramatic, you know; over the top?”
Paul’s brow wrinkles and he frustratingly splutters, “I know what melodramatic means; that’s not what I was asking you about! What did you mean by being back to some sort of normality?”
Sebastian arrogantly grins as he explains. “Well, for a start, who would talk to a world-renowned psychologist in such a manner? Good for you! And secondly, I couldn’t have made that deduction any better myself, right down to her body movement indicators.”
Paul humbles and looks at Sebastian through admiring eyes. “Seriously, do you think so?”
“No, but it was exceptionally accurate. Now, if you wouldn’t mind.” He turns his head forward and juts his chin.
Paul indicates, pulls back out into traffic and glances back over at Sebastian. “You really know how to piss people off when you want, don’t you?”
Sebastian barely moves a muscle and just the corner of his lip curls as he replies, “Yes.”
Paul shakes his head and smiles.
On their return to the Dust Pit, Sebastian remains standing. “If you don’t mind, Paul, I will head over to Jim’s office and inform him of the details of the interview with the Cohens. Tell me something before I go. When you were in the Special Services, what were your duties?”
Sebastian is in the doorway so Paul swivels to face him. “I had a lot of duties, Seb. Armed and unarmed combat, surveillance…”
“Yes, surveillance, so you used maps and the like?”
“All the time; we needed to know how to locate the enemy or find our way back if we were ever separated from the platoon. Why?”
Sebastian rubs his chin. “Well, I was hoping that tomorrow we might try and find where these murders took place.”
Paul places his hands behind his head and pushes back into his chair confidently. “So you want me to scan over some maps in order to find a possible location?”
“Yes, would you mind?”
“No, not at all. But I won’t be able to get much done until tonight. I still have a bit to finish here before we leave, so I better get onto it.” He drops his arms and swivels around to the desk.
Sebastian acknowledges Paul’s needs and begins his walk up to Jim’s office where Emily announces him.
“I read yesterday’s report, Seb, and I have to say great job to the pair of you in finding out who the victim was so quickly. I rang the Commissioner and explained that you were on the case and the progress you had already made. I also explained that if we form a task force right now it may hinder your progress, so he has decided to hold off for now. But he said if I didn’t keep him updated or provide proof that the case was achieving substantial inroads, he would have to insist the task force be put in place. So I hope you see this more as a positive result than a negative one.”
Sebastian nods agreeably. “Definitely Jim; it’s nice to know we have that kind of support.” He hands the Captain his report. “The other thing is, Paul and I were hoping to take tomorrow to see if we can locate where the murders were committed.”
Jim nods with his chin out. “Great idea, Seb, but please be very careful. If you see anything vaguely suspicious, get Paul to call it in and wait for back up. I mean it, Seb! I don’t want any heroics from either of you!”
Sebastian grins. “Trust me, Jim, I am no hero and have no intentions of putting myself in any peril whatsoever.”
When Sebastian arrives back at the Dust Pit, he brings Paul up to date on his meeting with Jim. Then Paul waits patiently until Sebastian has packed his papers and collected his cane so they can head down to the car together. Paul turns the motor over but before he drives off he looks at Sebastian with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier today and I appreciate what you said about how people saw you differently and how hard it was to live up to others expectations. It definitely made me think about how I should approach you in the future.”
Sebastian exhales deeply with annoyance. “Seriously, Paul, I feel like you have totally missed the point I was making!” If you have to consider how you will approach me in the future, rather than be yourself, then I have failed miserably in what I have attempted to communicate to you. Oh, by the way… I never quit what I was doing because of the pressure. I quit because I achieved all I could and became bored. So it was more about the adrenaline rush than the pressure I was under. Everything else I said was true, but I will often alter perspectives to make a point.”
Paul’s eyes bounce around like a pinball. “Well I certainly understand your point now but how do I know you aren’t altering the perspective of this conversation to make another point?”
“You don’t. Can we go now?” He says as he turns his head to the side window.
The engine throbs a minute longer.
“No! We can’t! You want me to be myself, so that’s what I’m going to do, but in return I want something from you”
Sebastian impatiently turns to face Paul “And what would that be, my friend?” he conveys sarcasti
cally.
Paul looks him in the eyes with purpose. “I want you to try and remember that you haven’t always possessed the perfect gift you have now; it took years to hone it.”
Paul sits staring at Sebastian for an uncomfortable moment, then engages the motor and begins the drive home. Sebastian remains solemn and silent along the way. On reaching his house he collects his belongings from the back of the car and peers over at Paul. “I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, by the way… point taken and condition accepted!” The rear door closes.
Sebastian makes his way halfway up the path to where Cynthia awaits him, “You really should ask Paul in for a coffee now and then, Seb.”
Sebastian greets his wife with a smile. “Yes, I think you are quite right and do you know something else, my love?” he bows his head and kisses her on the forehead, gazes straight into her eyes. “I think he is a fine young man with a lot of potential.”
Cynthia grins lovingly. “I knew you would come around sooner or later.”
He looks curiously at her. “What do you mean?”
She smiles warmly into his eyes, “Men don’t always see what women do, you know? That young man looks up to you as a father figure.”
Sebastian’s head tilts to one side. “Do you really think so?”
Cynthia gently shakes her head. “No, Seb. I know so. Now, come on, there’s a drink waiting in the study.” She tows him down the hallway and then leaves him, to check on dinner. The fire in the study is comforting and burns with a mild incandescence and on her return she finds Sebastian sitting drowsily in his leather chair neither awake nor asleep. “Come on, old man. Dinner is served” He looks up at her with an intoxicated smile and rises to his feet. After dinner Sebastian catches an early night.
5. THE FARM HOUSE
The following morning brings a contradictive day with the sun seemingly warmer than normal until the breeze whips up a crisp and arctic chill. Sebastian is feasting on a hearty breakfast that Cynthia has just dished up for him when Paul arrives earlier than expected and gives a sharp toot of the horn.
“You told me last night I should ask him in for coffee, so that is exactly what I will do; after all, I certainly won’t let this delicious French toast go to waste,” Sebastian says determinedly while rising from the table.
Cynthia smiles as he lumbers out the front and retrieves his partner from the awaiting vehicle. By the time they get back into the kitchen she has already poured an extra coffee and begun frying bread in the pan. “Good morning, Paul. Breakfast won’t be long,” she says looking over her shoulder from the stove.
Paul holds both his palms outward, “It’s okay Mrs Cork, I have already had my breakfast and I’m sure Seb could go another round.”
“Nonsense, Paul, it’s only French toast. And I told you before not to call me Mrs Cork; my name is Cynthia!”
Paul looks to Sebastian for support.
“Well, don’t look at me, Paul; I’m not going to argue in your defence. If you know what is good for you, you’ll take a seat and enjoy whatever Cynthia dishes up.”
Cynthia’s eyes abruptly divert from Paul to Sebastian, “What’s that supposed to mean Seb?”
Nothing at all my love, I am just trying to encourage the young man to eat, that’s all.”
Sebastian moves his plate one chair down. “There you go, my good man. Sit here!”
Paul looks at him uncertainly. “But that’s your seat, Seb.”
With Cynthia focusing on her cooking, Sebastian motions with his hands impatiently for Paul to sit down. It’s not long before she joins them at the table. “Tell me something, Paul. How are you coping with my husband’s antics?”
Sebastian, who is about to take a gulp of coffee, places his mug back down and frowns at her with squinting eyes. “What do you mean by my ‘antics’?”
Cynthia takes a bite of her breakfast and takes her time to respond. “Perhaps the word I should have used is ‘idiosyncrasies’.”
Sebastian picks up his mug, only, this time, he partakes in the aromatic brew, then places it down to continue a conversation probably better left alone. “I love that word, ‘idiosyncrasies’, but I’m not quite certain of its definition. Tell me, Cynthia, does that mean ‘personal peculiarities’? You know, like brushing one’s hair exactly ten times on each side, or stirring one’s coffee three times one way and four the other? Oh yes, then there’s the toilet paper…”
“Sebastian, that’s enough!” Cynthia snaps with her eyebrows clenched.
Paul is quick to intervene, “Ah, to answer your question, Cynthia, I haven’t been coping quite that well and I noticed my idiosyncrasies are causing Sebastian some problems as well but when you are partnering someone you both have to work hard to understand the other’s traits.”
Sebastian and Cynthia look like pupils who have just been caught flicking paper at each other and go about the rest of the meal in a more respectful manner. Once breakfast is out the way, Cynthia sees them both to the front door. “Here’s your cane, Seb. I want you to be careful today, do you hear me?”
Sebastian kisses her on the forehead. “Loud and clear my love; loud and clear!”
Then she turns her attention to Paul. “Make sure you bring him back in one piece, won’t you? And take care of yourself too.”
He smiles respectfully at her. “You know I will, Cynthia.”
She smiles back, “Yes I believe you will.”
As they travel through the city they are dwarfed by the massive buildings looming on both sides of them. The haze and smell of fuel predominates but to their surprise the traffic remains unusually steady. Paul, quite proud of himself, explains how diligently he worked the previous evening, mapping out areas that should coincide with the distance travelled by the killer to Truscan Park.
The first half of their day is spent investigating sites in and around the suburbs. They search in and out of abandoned warehouses on the docks for any sign of recent use but all they come across is musky, dank ruins, where whispering winds creep in intermittent puffs through shattered windows in the lofts. Glowing particles of dust dance erratically in the concentrated beams of light, gently but persistently forcing their way deeper into the depths of the murky shadows below. In all the corrugated towering buildings they search the only inhabitants, congregated in the soiled debris that has accumulated over years of neglect are rats, pigeons, spiders and the odd feral cat. Sebastian and Paul use the early afternoon to move from the docks to the outer suburbs’ industrial areas but eventually reach the conclusion that none of these are plausible murder sites due to their proximity to other buildings and amount of pedestrian and vehicle traffic. There’s no doubt in their minds just how difficult it would be to move a body in or out of these congested roads and pavements without someone noticing or questioning the culprit’s motives.
The long morning has turned into late afternoon and as the sun wearies; their search takes them outside the city limits where the bushland is dense. During their tedious journey they catch sight of the odd farm through the breaks in the trees, scattered here and there, far and few between. Many of the paths they drive down become inaccessible or serve up no evidence of suspicious activities. They motor down an unpaved road and the blend of dust and pine works its way through the vents, leaving them with an ashen taste in their mouths and throats. Worse, like all the others, it seems to be taking them nowhere. Sebastian becomes frustrated and weary, “There’s no sign of what we are seeking here, so can we search for somewhere to turn around and begin our journey home?”
A look of disappointment falls over Paul’s face. “I just don’t get it! I went over and over a map of all the areas last night and this was the most promising of them all!”
Sebastian lifts his chin and stares fixedly at the road ahead. “Just a moment Paul. Is that a driveway to the right up there?”
The possibility of vindication within his grasp, Paul ascends the winding, private road bounded either side by dense bush. They come into sight of the remn
ants of an old homestead burnt to the ground. There’s no sign of blackening to the surrounding shrub, so it seems the fire was isolated to the building alone and any other materials, apart from rusting metal that had escaped the intense heat of the fire, have been expunged forever by the elements. A distance from the burnt out remains stands an old red barn made of timber which was most likely collected from the surrounding forest. As they alight from the car Sebastian points with his walking stick. “It may be worth taking a look in there but be careful.”
Paul nods and then responds by drawing his gun from its holster and moving with stealth towards the building. Dusk is closing fast and the dappled sunlight filters through the trees in a way that makes Sebastian flinch with a sense of insecurity. A floating cobweb brushes his face, sending a tingle down his spine. He convulses with a shiver and feels a pounding pressure in his ears as his instinctive fear is now overwhelming. He stands and listens to the eerie rustling as the wind flutters the leaves on the bushes around him and he casts an anxious glance towards them. Sebastian decides it may be safer if he walks away from the barn toward open ground; if anything or anybody is to come out of the shrub toward him, he feels he will have clear sight of them and time to ready himself for battle.
Even though his family were farmers Sebastian lost his affinity to the land when he was eight years old. His parents had emigrated from England the previous year and like any boy of his age, he loved to explore but this time he wandered too far. The thoughts of being lost in the forest for two nights are back, vivid and overwhelming. Suddenly he senses that something is lurking behind him. His eyes grow in terror and his expression tightens as he freezes rigid, chills running down his spine like ice water. Then, when a twig snaps his reflexes are sharp and he whirls his body around, his cane held high in readiness to bring it hurtling down on whomever or whatever has snuck up behind him.
Just as he’s about to release all the force that flows through his body like electricity, a large figure throws his palms outward in an effort to deflect the blow that would surely crush his skull. “Whoa, Seb! It’s me, it’s me!”
