Cut Down To Size: A Sebastian Cork Novel

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Cut Down To Size: A Sebastian Cork Novel Page 8

by Neal Davies


  Sebastian is surprised by the enormity of the interior. The receptionist sit sat a semi-circular desk directly across from the entrance and to the right and left, small booths sell gym equipment, health food and sports drinks. He informs the receptionist that he has an appointment with the manager, Max Martin and she rings through to his office at the rear of the building and then points Sebastian in that direction.

  The path to his office leads Sebastian directly through the workout area and his senses fill with an overpowering smell of liniment, the sound of clanging metal and muffled voices of patrons and instructors. He eyes everything around him in a desultory manner, as he strives to familiarise himself with the scene.

  Only a few strides along, there is disharmony between a middle-aged pair. She is trying to encourage her partner to stay close and he is making it overtly obvious that he’s there against his will. Sebastian slows his pace and continues to observe them.

  He will often challenge himself to understand what others communicate with their bodies rather than orally and walking through the gym gives him an opportunity to hone his already exceptional skills. The woman constantly pulls at her jacket in an attempt to prevent it creeping upward means she is carrying more weight than she would like. As the fellow is quite muscular and lean, Sebastian muses, she may have dragged him along because of her own insecurities. She flutters from one machine to the next in her matching pink tracksuit and joggers like a bee in floral heaven. In contrast, her partner’s outfit – camouflaged cargo pants and sleeveless checked shirt – isn’t your regular gym attire but that of a woodsman, hunter or labourer.

  Sebastian is soon bored with these two. Spying a spritely young woman about to board a treadmill, his mood soon changes to one of being inspired, as he ponders the thought of buying one for home. He murmurs to himself, “Mmm. That would certainly save me being late to breakfast again!”

  Now Sebastian comes across the ‘real deal’; one rather solidly built fellow lies flat on a slab and above him sits a set of gigantic weights, held together with a bar surely way too lean for the enormous discs it supports. A muscular friend, or perhaps trainer, is arched over, ready to take the torturous weight from its racks and lower the bar carefully down. There’s no doubt in Sebastian’s mind that these two are gym enthusiasts, disciplined and dedicated, something that he admires, even if he has no interest in the activity.

  On he goes until his eyes abruptly shift to the right. “Well, well, well, there’s hope for me yet!” he exclaims as he catches sight of a massive form of a man trying to keep rhythm with his overlapping stomach on yet another treadmill. Sebastian is so enthralled he doesn’t see a rather plump, middle-aged woman cross his path. As they collide, his hand flies out and accidently grabs hold of her ample breast. “Sorry, sorry!”

  She stands there smiling at him, glances down at the hand that has yet to disconnect from her bosom. Sebastian also glances down then back up. His mouth opens; his forehead wrinkles and he gives an involuntary smile before releasing the object like a red hot ember. To make matters worse he’s so flustered he begins brushing down her breast in a reflex action.

  “It’s fine. You can stop now”. She says smiling warmly and gently nodding her head.

  Sebastian hesitantly smiles back and then leaves as quickly as he can, no longer interested in anything except his destination.

  After a long loping stroll at a good pace, he finally reaches the manager’s office. An immaculately dressed and powerfully built man sits behind a modern desk strewn with paperwork and bodybuilding magazines. His hairline is receding and his tight, light blue, Italian shirt bulges from the muscular outcrops that lay beneath. The strong but pleasant smell of cologne wafts through the office.

  “Max Martin and you must be Mr Cork. How can I help you?” he says in a deep gruff voice that can only be compared to a heavyweight wrestler.

  Sebastian hesitantly steps forward, preparing himself for a bone crushing grip, but this mountain man’s grip is firm but gentle.

  “Nice to meet you, Max but please call me Seb as you know…”

  Max interrupts “Before you continue, Seb, let me get you a seat.” He reaches around the corner and pulls a plastic scoop chair into the office. “There you go. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you very much.”

  They both take a seat. “As I was saying,” Sebastian continues, “I am here to investigate the murder of Michael Cohen. I have spoken to my superior and it is okay to inform staff and other people who knew Michael that he is deceased; it won’t be long before it makes the papers anyway. Can you tell me something about him?”

  Max sits back in his chair and drops his head to one side. “I didn’t have too much to do with him. What is it exactly you want to know?”

  Sebastian places his elbows on Max’s desk and folds a fist inside the palm of his other hand. “Well, for a start, what was your perception of his personality?”

  Max slumps back and crosses his arms. “In all honesty, Sebastian, I don’t like to speak ill of the dead – or anyone for that matter–but I have met a lot of elite athletes during my time and am aware of how focused they are, so I try to ensure they are left alone. But Michael came into the gym as cocky as a new rooster in a pen full of hens and started demanding this and that.”

  “So how did you handle that Max?”

  Max’s eyes widen and his lips tighten. “It wasn’t easy. On one hand we didn’t want to lose him because someone of his status will always bring us additional clientele. I mean, when friends mention that a well-known athlete attends their gym… well, you know what I mean. But on the other hand, no matter how high and mighty an athlete thinks they are, there is only so much pampering you can do before the other clients feel they’re being treated second rate. So it becomes a matter of balance.”

  Sebastian leans back and places his hands flat on the desk. “As much as I hate to ask this…”

  “I know what you are about to ask,” Max interrupts. “I’ve been working seven days a week for the last five years to make this business a success. Once it began to do well I decided to take my wife somewhere she had always wanted to go, so up until two days ago we have been touring China.” Max pulls his passport from his top drawer and shows Sebastian, “I brought this with me today because I thought this question might come up.”

  Sebastian relaxes into the chair. “Thank you for being so candid, I appreciate it. Now I have a big favour to ask of you.”

  “Go ahead; I’m only too happy to help.”

  Sebastian bites his bottom lip as his eyes bounce to and fro “Well, we would like one of our detectives to join the gym and you would be the only person who would know he is undercover. Could you work with that?”

  Max nods in the affirmative, “I don’t have a problem with that at all but what will you need me to do?

  Sebastian opens his hands and curls one corner of his mouth, “Nothing we just wanted to inform you of our plans, that’s all and if you see or remember anything of interest to us; we would like to be informed immediately. Here is my card.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. Now that is all sorted, I have a few questions regarding certain people who have frequented the gym recently.”

  Max nods again.

  “Can you tell me something about Nathan Spedding?”

  “Yes. Nathan was a hell of a nice guy. I don’t think he would have spent as much time trying to push his advertising if it wasn’t for Kate.” Sebastian screws up the corner of his mouth while rapidly shaking his head. “Sorry, Sebastian, that was stupid of me. There’s no way known you’d know who Kate is. She has a shop that sells power drinks within the complex. Nathan seemed to have a strong interest in her.”

  Sebastian tilts his head slightly, “How do you mean?”

  Max’s eyes seek the ceiling as he ponders his answer. “Well, not in the romantic sense, more of an interest in her background. He was always asking me if I knew anythin
g about her family. Of course I told him no, as I don’t.” Max shuffles a magazine around his desk. “Do you think Nathan had something to do with Mike’s murder?”

  Sebastian sits back in the seat. “So you don’t know?” he leans forward again in a serious manner. “Before I explain some things to you, I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you is highly confidential.”

  This time Max leans forward and crosses his forearms on the desk. “Of course, of course,” he replies with curious concern.

  Sebastian scratches his head, indecisive about how much to reveal. “Nathan had nothing to do with Mike’s murder; in fact he was killed in a similar fashion.”

  Max’s eyes open wide with astonishment, which confirms to Sebastian that he has had nothing to do with either murder. Finally, he gains his composure, “So are you saying that the murderer… no, a serial killer could be walking amongst my patrons?”

  Sebastian remembers Jim’s concerns about public disclosure. “A serial killer? No I doubt it, but a possible connection. That’s why we want one of our men in here, to keep a close eye on things.”

  Max rubs his pitch-black receding hair, and then looks at Sebastian accusingly. “Are you sure this nut case, that may or may not be running loose in my gym, isn’t a serial killer; I don’t want to put my people at risk!”

  Sebastian knows he has to dispel Max’s thoughts regarding a serial killer so he gently nods his head and explains, “I understand your trepidation, Max, but as a psychologist I can tell you many serial killers will commit their murders within a few miles of each other. They will also kill numerous victims in the same place at the same time, but they rarely revisit a public place where they have murdered before.” Sebastian knows only too well that the murders haven’t taken place in the gym as the victims have been murdered elsewhere.

  “Okay, so what’s next?” Max asks in a warmer tone.

  Sebastian keeps the conversation rolling to distract any further thoughts of a serial killer; he doesn’t dare tell Max about Owen Coleman as he knows this would surely put the cat amongst the pigeons.

  “Was there anyone one else connected with Kate who seemed suspicious to you?”

  Max puckers his mouth to one side in thought and replies, “Only one guy. His name was Owen… yes, that’s right, Owen Coleman, but that’s going back a bit. I never liked him at all.”

  Sebastian is keen to get more information and responds quickly, “Really? Why is that?”

  “He just came across as sleazy, that’s all. I mean Kate really had feelings for that guy. He’d take her out for lunch and everyone could see that they had a thing going on. Right up until she found out the guy was married; that’s when she dumped him like a hot potato.”

  “Worst thing was, it really broke her heart and I believe she never got over it. As for him, he just disappeared from the scene; if he hadn’t I would have kicked him the hell out anyway. I don’t normally interfere but Kate’s a bit of a loner and people here are like family, so we tend to look after our own. Anyway, apart from him, I haven’t noticed any others that seem suspicious and as I said, that was quite awhile ago.”

  Sebastian decides at this point he should veer the conversation away from Owen Coleman. “Is there anyone else you can think of that may have some idiosyncrasies that prevent them fitting in, or have had confrontations at the gym?” Max screws his nose up and Sebastian, always the observer, is quick to jump, “Come on, Max! Who are you protecting?”

  Max cocks his head back. “What do you mean?”

  “When I spoke of confrontation your lips tightened, pushing your cheeks upward. Someone came to mind when the word ‘confrontation’ was used and now the frown that brings your eyebrows together tells me I’m right.”

  “What are you, some sort of expert in facial expressions?”

  “Something like that but that’s not important. Who are you protecting?”

  Max looks to the ceiling. “I’m not really protecting anyone - well, not in the sense that I think they have committed a murder and I’m trying to keep that from you - but Jamie Hanigan, who is my best personal trainer and runs the social club here, did have an altercation with Mike a few weeks ago. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that question; I was sure you’d get the wrong idea and start jumping to conclusions.”

  Sebastian sits back again, “In all reality, Max, you don’t know me and you could well be jumping to conclusions by assuming that.”

  “Fair call. Look, Jamie’s been with me for six years and the only complaint that’s been lodged against him came from Mike Cohen. Mike detested homosexuality; he had upset a couple female patrons with name-calling prior his confrontation with Jamie.”

  “So, Jamie is gay?” Sebastian paraphrases.

  “Hell, yes, everyone in the gym knows that! Anyway, Jamie tried to point out to Mike that he wasn’t lifting a weight correctly and he made some pretty insulting remarks about Jamie being gay. He tried to walk away from a confrontation but Mike threw a full bottle of water at him, hitting him in the back of the head. Jamie was furious, as anyone would be, so he turned around and grabbed Mike by the throat. A couple of the other clients noticed what was going on and got in between them. Immediately after the confrontation, Mike comes to me with a complaint. I called Jamie into the office and let him know I wouldn’t tolerate that sort of loss of control from my staff. He understood he’d done the wrong thing so he apologised to Mike. Mike told me he wanted Jamie fired or he would press charges for assault but I told him that wasn’t going to happen. I had witnesses who saw him assault Jamie first so he backed off. Mike realised that it wouldn’t look good for him with his sponsors if the truth came out. The one thing he did do though was demand another personal trainer and we were only too happy to accommodate him. There were no more problems. Now, I know that sounds bad for Jamie but he would never have killed him; he’s not like that.”

  Sebastian pulls at his chin with his right hand. “Did you write a report on the incident?”

  “Yes, but as I said, I don’t believe Jamie would ever kill anyone.”

  Sebastian, still in thought, ignores Max’s statement. “Is there any chance of getting a copy of your report for my own file?”

  Max rolls his desk chair back, retrieves a file from the metal cabinet and places it on the photocopier. Once done, he hands Sebastian the copy and places the rest back in the cabinet.

  Sebastian scans through it and looks over to Max who has his hands behind his head in frustration. “I’m sorry to pry, Max, but it’s important I ask these questions. Do you know where he worked before coming here?”

  Max hesitates to answer and then responds reluctantly. “Jamie had been in prison. He was finding it hard to get a job so his parole officer gave me a call and asked if we had any positions available. Don’t ask me what Jamie had done as I didn’t want to know unless it had something to do with hurting kids. The parole officer told me it was nothing to do with that, so I hired him.”

  Sebastian scratches the middle of his forehead. “Isn’t it a bit unusual for a parole officer to ring a gym on behalf of a client?”

  “Not in this case. The officer was a long time member here until he couldn’t fit it into his hectic schedule anymore. Look, I know this doesn’t look good for Jamie but, honestly, Sebastian he really is a great guy and is loved by both the staff and clients. I’d go as far to say that without a doubt I would trust him with my life.”

  Max is feeling uncomfortable and defensive and Sebastian doesn’t want to make an enemy of him so he’s quick to move on, “Look, Max, everyone has their issues, so let’s get off Jamie for now and perhaps you can think of another member of staff that’s a bit of a misfit?”

  Max hits the tips of his fingers on his desk. “Of course! Joe Devonport, I don’t know why I didn’t think of him earlier,” he replies while tossing his eyes upward at his thoughtlessness.

  “Tell me about this Joe Devonport; is he a customer or a worker here?”

  “Joe’s
all that and a bit more. He has a delivery business and he does deliveries for Kate but for a while there his business wasn’t doing so well, so we gave him some work around the gym as the odd jobs man. He’s on his feet now but I’d like to keep him on staff as he’s a diligent worker. He’s a small fellow and although he doesn’t look it, he’s very strong as he works out in his free time. Joe has access to everything in the gym and has a bit of a chip on his shoulder when it comes to taller guys but we just see him as a bit of a character. That’s why he didn’t come to mind.”

  This statement piques Sebastian’s attention. “How did he get on with Michael Cohen?”

  Max pauses and thinks for a moment. “As strange as this sounds, he seemed to get along better with Mike than most others.”

  “Really, how so?”

  “Well it was rare for Mike to give anyone the time of day but when it came to Kate and Joe, they all got along quite well. Then again, Joe and Mike seemed to be a bit distant just before Mike disappeared.”

  Sebastian grasps his bottom lip in his fingertips and then probes further, “Did anyone witness an argument between them?”

  “No, nothing like that; the water just ran cold, that’s all.”

  Sebastian pushes down on his cane and rises to his feet. “Well, I would like to thank you so much for your time and patience, Max. Now I really must leave you to do your work and also get back to mine. Hopefully we will meet again under more favourable circumstances.”

  Max leans across the desk and shakes his hand. “Before you go, Sebastian, would like to have a tour of the gym? We do cater for mature people as well, you know.”

  “Well, I am starting to run out of time.”

  Max smiles. “Come on. Fifteen minutes, that’s all it will take. I’m sure you can spare a measly fifteen minutes.”

  Sebastian gives this proposition bona fide consideration and assents. Before his tour with Max, he jots down names and events and then excuses himself to make a quick phone call to Paul, so he knows how long he has to finish whatever it is he is doing.

 

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