by Neal Davies
Sebastian, hyperventilating, his eyes fixed and bulging with frenzied fear, is momentarily numbed by Paul’s words.
Paul has seen this response before from soldiers who had witnessed more than their minds could handle. “It’s okay, Seb, it’s me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Sebastian closes his eyes and inhales some very deep breaths. Still muted with fright, he opens them again and stares fixedly at Paul. “I’m really sorry, Seb. I thought you heard me coming. Are you okay?” Paul slowly lowers his hands.
Sebastian, visibly shaken and with trembling hands, collects himself when he sees Paul is genuinely worried about him. “It’s okay, Paul. You just gave me a bit of a start, that’s all. I should have been more focused but my mind was somewhere else. Thanks for your concern.”
Paul sees Sebastian is embarrassed by his own reactions and rapidly changes the subject. “Anyway, Seb, I searched the entirety of the barn including the loft and found nothing of interest. Do you want to come and have a quick look before it gets dark? He licks his dry lips nods and then hesitantly follows Paul in.
The barn smells damp and musty. A moulding mass of hay lays heavy in the corner of the otherwise vast deserted interior. The last rays of the sun, beam through the loft window illuminating small particles of dust that drift in the stale air. Sebastian moves directly to the middle of the barn and slowly turns clockwise, pausing intermittently. His eyes move up and down and side to side as he scans every square inch of his surrounds. Paul squints at him curiously. “What are you looking for, Seb?”
Sebastian, emotionally inert and still scanning, replies, “You would do better to ask me what I’m not looking for.”
Paul shakes his head from side to side rapidly and one side of his mouth turns as if he’s making an effort to sustain a wink. “Okay, I’ll run with that. What are you not looking for?” he sarcastically replies.
Sebastian points to one corner of the barn at the rear, then over to the other. “That and that,” he says and then continues, “I’m not looking for old building materials; I would rather find something new. See those steel girders over there?”
Paul’s eyes follow in that direction.
“They’re not old at all. Therefore someone has renovated this barn not so long ago. Now why would you do that? If you were going to spend money on this property, wouldn’t it be on the house? It’s not as though they have any livestock or are using it to dwell in. There are no bedding or kitchen utensils.”
Paul can see that Sebastian has hit upon a very good point and replies, “Although, there are some old bicycle tracks over here.”
Sebastian remains tight-lipped but walks forward, gently pushing small remnants of hay to one side with his cane. “Oh yes, there. I can see them. You’re quite right, Paul, that is interesting.” He cuffs both hands over the top of his cane and squats down for a closer look, almost losing his balance in the process. Sebastian reaches one hand into his jacket pocket, draws out a small knife and without opening the blade, places the handle across the tyre track.
Paul squats down also. “So, what do you make of them, Seb?”
Although Paul speaks directly to him, Sebastian’s thoughts are far away; he continues staring at the centre of the knife while moving his head to the left and beyond it, then slowly back and to the right and beyond it. “Ah ha!” he declares and quickly places the knife back in his pocket and nonchalantly glances over at Paul. “Like you said, they’re tyre tracks but it’s way too soon to know if they have anything to do with these murders. I think I am going to have to make another journey up here at some point.”
Without seeing any reason to linger or utter another word, Sebastian pushes down hard on the top of his cane to bring himself to his feet, makes a ‘Mmm’ sound, brings his cane up to rest on his shoulder and starts heading out of the barn. It is only at the entrance it occurs to him that he has forgotten something or someone. While still squatting like a chicken about to lay an egg, Paul remains stationary; a blank look veils his face as he waits impatiently for what Sebastian has in mind to do next.
“We have seen all we need to see here, my friend, so I suggest we head home. I will ask Cynthia to make some enquiries regarding the ownership of the building and we will see where that leads us. By the way, great job on finding this site, Paul. It may turn out to be vital to the investigation.” His words only appease Paul somewhat and Paul’s joyless reply reflects his disinterest.
“Thanks, Seb.”
Sebastian’s shadow precedes him as he leaves the barn. The dull green of the bush has now faded into grey silhouettes. Paul continues past Sebastian to the car as he hesitates for a brief moment to focus through a break in the trees where he can see the sun’s last rays igniting the horizon like a forest fire across the valley. Before he gets in the car he takes one last hesitant glance over his shoulder at the surrounds when the woods echo eerily with the hoots of an owl.
He sinks comfortably into his seat as Paul starts up the motor to begin their journey back down the old dirt road and it’s only a matter of moments ’til shades of grey turn to black masses, while eerie flashes of shrubs are lit up by the headlights leading the way. This weighs heavily on the lids of Sebastian’s tired eyes, while the warmth inside the vehicle appeases his fears and insecurities and he’s soon fast asleep.
It seems like only a matter of moments to him when he is abruptly woken by a vice-like grip on his arm. “Only a block to go, Seb. Are you awake?”
Sebastian, slowly and semi-conscious, turns his head. “No, Paul, I always sleep through someone vigorously shaking me and idiotically asking if I’m awake. Of course I’m bloody well awake!” He looks down at his arm, where Paul’s rather large hand still clings like a possum to a sapling. Then his fiery eyes shoot up to meet Paul’s “Now, if you wouldn’t mind unleashing me so I can regain some sort of feeling back into my lower forearm and hand, I would be ever so grateful!”
Paul’s hand retracts to the steering wheel from whence it came. His eyes are focused steadfast on the road but he’s clearly annoyed. “Well that’s a little ungrateful, isn’t it?”
Sebastian rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as his chin turns unwillingly toward Paul. “What do you mean?”
Paul remains rigid and focused on his driving. “Well, anyone else would have woken you earlier but being the considerate guy I am, I gave you the opportunity to get some rest before we arrive back at your house.” Paul glances sharply over to Sebastian and continues, “After all, who else would put up with that noise while they’re driving?”
Sebastian’s forehead folds like a well-ploughed field and his eyebrows move to introduce themselves. “I beg your pardon! What noise?”
Paul grins inwardly knowing he has thrown out the bait and the hook are about to be set. “You’re kidding me, right? Surely Cynthia must complain about your snoring… or do you sleep in separate rooms? Not that it would make a lot of difference.”
Sebastian’s eyes open wide and he fixes a venomous gaze as he retorts, “No we do not! Not that it has anything to do with you. And no, she hasn’t commented on my snoring… because I don’t bloody well snore.”
They round the corner and pull into Sebastian’s driveway and he’s quick to get out. He bends down before closing the door and abruptly says, “I will see you tomorrow Paul!”
Paul flashes a cheeky grin and replies, “I’ve got something I need to do first thing in the morning, so I won’t be able to pick you up, Seb. Sorry about that.”
Sebastian just gives off a deep grumble.
Paul feels an urge for some additional sarcasm and finishes off the day with, “Sleep well, my friend… because I’m sure there are a lot of people in your neighbourhood who won’t!”
Sebastian slams the door shut and marches briskly up the driveway while Paul drives off with a beaming smile across his face. Cynthia has heard the car pull up and the door slam, so she waits anxiously at the entrance.
“Are you okay?” she enquires with a con
cerned gaze.
He gives his wife her habitual greeting kiss but the conversation with Paul is still fresh in his mind, so Sebastian continues his march into the house with her trailing behind.
“Stop right there, Sebastian Cork; what the heck is going on?”
He looks around at her as a child would their mother. “Do I snore?”
She looks askance at him. “What?”
“Do I bloody snore?”
Cynthia has drawn a mental blank. She can’t work out what snoring has to do with the mood he’s come home in and stares at him blankly. Sebastian becomes more and more frustrated. “Well, my goodness! Here stands a woman who has an IQ of one hundred and thirty, who topped her class every year at university and yet is stumped with a simple question. Well, butter my bread on both sides! Will miracles never cease?”
Sebastian begins to realise he has overstepped his boundaries and knows the repercussions that are about to rain down on him can’t be good. Cynthia crosses her arms and tightens her lips. “Of course you snore, Sebastian. In fact, do you remember Mrs Chalmers who used to live next door?” she says, every inch the lawyer.
“Yes,” he replies meekly.
Her eyes, flash with pure determination, as she makes her point, “Well, why do think she moved out?”
Sebastian’s heart sinks. “Was it because of my snoring?”
“No! Because she was eighty-nine years old and her children put her in a bloody home; what a stupid answer from a man that topped all his classes in psychology and has an IQ of one hundred and fifty!”
“The reason I didn’t answer your question initially is I was stunned by it. Don’t you think that at some stage during our many, many… many years of marital bliss, I would have informed you if you were a snorer? Where the heck did you get this ridiculous notion from?”
Sebastian, embarrassed to have been taken in so easily, decides not to disclose any further.
“Oh, um, I don’t know. Somebody from the station was talking about it and I guess I began to wonder. As far as being snappy, I sincerely apologise, my love. It’s been a big day and I guess I’m a little tired, so I truly am very sorry.”
Later that evening after dinner, Sebastian and Cynthia head to the study where they often have a quiet drink and discuss the day’s events. “You were unusually quiet at dinner tonight Seb; is there something wrong?”
Sebastian takes a long gulp of Bourbon. “No, all is good my love, just a very tiring day, that’s all.”
“You still haven’t told me if you and Paul located a site where the murders may have taken place.”
Sebastian pauses. “We found a place that has some possibilities; it’s just outside the city in fairly dense bushland. I was hoping if you had a spare moment tomorrow, you might make some phone calls in the morning to see if you can find out who owns the property.”
Cynthia finishes her sherry and rises to her feet. “That won’t be a problem. Just leave the details for me and I will follow that up for you. But for now, I’m going to have an early night. Are you coming?”
“I really am indecisive about what I should do; there’s an interesting documentary I’d like to see but I also have an early start tomorrow. So perhaps I will just watch some of it and turn in when I tire.”
“Well, Seb, you’re old enough to know what is required, so I will love you and leave you. Oh, by the way, do you want me to set the alarm?”
“No, no I will do that when I come up. And I will try my hardest not to wake you in the morning.”
She rinses her glass and places it back in the cabinet. “Goodnight, my darling,” she whispers as she bends forward and gently kisses him on the lips. Sebastian finishes off his drink on his way to the cabinet to pour himself another.
Sebastian becomes enthralled in the program and time escapes him until the show eventually concludes, “Oh my goodness, is it really that late?” he mutters to himself as he turns off the TV and gingerly rises to his feet. He remembers he still has to write down the address of the property and he knows if he doesn’t do it now he will most certainly forget in the morning. So Sebastian shuffles his way to his office while rubbing his eyes, he writes it down and works his way back to the kitchen where he leaves it on the bench. Sebastian thinks about a cocoa, but better judgement kicks in and he decides bed is a much better option.
Between silk sheets, he closes his eyes momentarily until the dark memories from childhood spring forward like a clown in a music box. Sebastian stirs restlessly and his uneasiness lingers throughout the night as savage eyes and blood-curdling howls from wild dogs of a childhood past, arise from the pitch black corners of his mind. In the early hours of the morning his eyelids slowly close and his mind finds peace as it eventually shuts down into a deep slumber.
6. AN URGENT REQUEST FROM THE CORONER
Sebastian feels like he has only just closed his eyes when he’s woken by Cynthia who is busily working her way around each of the bedroom windows, hauling on the cords to let the sun’s torturous ray’s burn into his more than sensitive eyes. His first reaction is to throw both his arms across his face like a vampire exposed. “What the heck are you doing, woman?” he growls indignantly from the lack of sleep and nervous strain.
Cynthia, fully dressed, stands over him with her hands on her hips and a straight face. “What do you mean, what am I doing? Wasn’t it you who said you needed to be downtown early? Wasn’t it you who said you’d try not to wake me when you leave? And wasn’t it you who was going to set the alarm? Well, guess what? You didn’t! And now you need to get a move on if you still want to be in early. So what I suggest is you shift your grumpy bum out of bed and get a hustle on!”
Sebastian throws the sheets off and catapults himself towards the shower. “How late am I?” he says, tripping and stumbling while he tries to remove his pyjama pants.
Cynthia follows close behind picking up his discarded night clothes. “It’s alright, Seb. I’m sure you will make it in time. There’s a piece of toast waiting in the warmer for you and I’ll have a coffee ready to go. Calm down or you will only get in your own way.”
When Sebastian has finished showering, he finds all his clothes for the day laid out on the bed so he quickly dresses, heads down the stairs and finds Cynthia waiting with his toast and coffee at the bottom.
“I know I am a complete pain in the ‘proverbial’ sometimes but don’t ever get the notion that I don’t appreciate everything you do for me,” he kisses her lovingly on the forehead.
Cynthia gives him a beguiling smile as her eyes become deeply entrenched in his and she finds herself going weak at the knees. But she is soon brought back to reality when Sebastian destroys the moment by snatching the goodies out of her hands – ‘no time for idle chit-chat, have to rush, love you!’ – and racing out the door.
Cynthia strolls into the kitchen for a relaxing coffee. She takes a deep breath and murmurs, “Oh, thank goodness for time alone!” Then the front door opens again and a deep voice reverberates down the hall. “In case you didn’t notice, if you look on the kitchen bench, I have left an address and I am hoping you can find out who owns that site; bye!” The door slams shut once more.
The drive to the station is rapid and on arrival Sebastian scurries up the concrete steps, still drinking his morning coffee from a cardboard cup that Cynthia keeps in the kitchen for such occasions. Although he has got off to a slow start, he has beaten the odds by reaching the station early and hopes to get some phone calls out of the way before working through many of the other things he has planned. After wishing the policeman on reception a good morning, he walks at aquick pace toward Jim’s office.
“Good morning, Emily, I’m just letting you know I’m here. Have you seen Paul?” he enquires politely.
Emily raises her eyes abruptly from her computer. “No he hasn’t checked in yet but Cameron asked if you would drop down and see him.”
Sebastian’s plans for the morning haven’t allowed for this type of distraction and he dr
ops both his head and his lip, knowing whenever the Coroner wants to see you; he more than likely has some vital information which requires your immediate attention. “Did it sound urgent?”
Emily looks at him with a frown. “What do you think?”
Sebastian tries to make light. “You know, Emily, you should never answer a question with a question!”
Always busy at this time of morning, Emily bites her lip in vexation. “And you should know better than to ask a question that you already have the answer to!”
Sebastian’s eyes roll upwards, aware that her statement has cleverly counteracted his, “Very good point Emily, my apologies.”
Sebastian makes his way downstairs, past the morgue to Cameron’s office and finds him busily working on his notes. “Good morning Cameron, what have you got for me?”
Without lifting his head, Cameron replies, “Won’t be a moment, Seb. Grab a seat while I just finish up.”
Sebastian grimaces with annoyance; he had assumed Cameron would be ready and waiting for him. A few more minutes pass and Cameron throws his pen on the desk, pushes back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I have something for you, Seb.”
Sebastian still annoyed abruptly responds, “Yes, Emily told me as such. What is it?”
Cameron gives him a long cool stare and places his hands either side of his desk as if bracing himself for a collision. He clears his throat, frowns and squints. “Get out of the wrong side of bed, did we?”
Silence.
Cameron leans forward and cups his hands. “Well, hopefully, my news will cheer you up and give you something more to go on with this young man’s murder. You were quite right asking me to check for a sedative in the victim’s stomach. What I actually found was a substance called Ketamine hydrochloride… also known on the streets as super acid, ket and various other names. Ket is a drug that comes in a white powder form, tablet or liquid and is dropped into unsuspecting victim’s drinks at bars.”
