by Sammy King
I wrenched it from his grip I continued to stare icily at Michael, who hadn’t taken his eyes off my face.
“It’s Dylan’s baby?” he said. I nodded and he finally dropped his head back down as the reality sunk in.
He sighed, and rubbed his face again.
“Mon it wasn’t done to hurt you, I didn’t even know you were pregnant.” He looked up at me and shook his head; his eyes had begun to glisten. “For what’s its worth, you look beautiful, and just like your mum when she was pregnant with you”
“Michael, that’s enough” Dad growled.
I looked over at Dad, whose face was twisted into anger. Michael nodded and ran his hand up through his hair.
“Look this is a shitty sorry situation, and it was nothing against you, no one wanted you to be hurt. No one knew that you and Dylan. Fuck, Dylan was Tilly’s boyfriend, she thought he was fucking Shelly” he rubbed his hand through his hair again, as he blew out a breath in frustration.
“So is that why you did it? Because you thought him and Shelly were together?” I asked quietly.
I could see his frustration starting to mount, as he shook his head.
“Yes, no. Look Mon you’re playing with stuff you shouldn’t be playing with” he looked up at Dad “Shane, please mate, don’t make her go through this, if you are any of the father you have always pretended to be you won’t make her go through this shit”
Dad sat back down next to me and shook his head.
“Through what, nobody is saying anything, were you set up to kill him?” I barked.
Michael sat back in the chair; he rubbed both hands over his face.
“Yes Mon I was, I was paid to kill him that will come out at the trial. I was a fucking idiot and let money for heroin wins me over, and as I result I killed him”
It was like a knife going straight into my heart. I finally had some of my answer, and it hurt so much to hear it.
“By who?”
Michael stared at me, but just shook his head slowly.
“I can’t tell you that Mon, look I know you want answers, you’re a beautiful girl, and I don’t want to hurt you, hell I’ve loved you since you were a tiny bump in your mum’s belly” he said, as a tear escaped and ran down his cheek.
I heard my Dad groan beside me, and when I turned to him, his face was red. He wouldn’t meet my eyes though. I turned back to Michael; my anger hadn’t eased at all.
“Then have enough respect to answer my god damn questions” I spat.
Michael stood up from his chair, and looked down at me.
“Was it Richard?” I asked, he looked at me with shock, as he slowly sat back down again.
“How do you know Richard?”
“I met him yesterday; Dylan had his number written down”
Michael grabbed at my hand that sat on the table, I tried to pull it out of his grasp, but he held on tight.
“Listen to me Mon, you stay right away from that man, he will bring you nothing but trouble” he looked up at Dad “Shane, if you have a lick of sense in your fucking head, you’ll make sure she stays away from Richard”.
I was finally able to snatch my hand out of Michaels grasp as he stood up. I sat watching him as he walked out of the room, and to the waiting guard. Dad patted my leg, and gave it a little squeeze.
“Come on Mon, let’s go home” I heard him say distantly.
I stood up and followed Dad, but it felt like I was walking in a dream, as if in slow motion. All the way home my thoughts were on Richard and what Michael had said about him. It didn’t match with the fat man I had met on the station platform.
When I got home I sat in my room, I fingered at the piece of paper with Richards number on it. I had promised Dad that I wouldn’t contact Richard again, but I knew as I was making the promise that it was a lie. I needed to know why Michael was so against Richard and what he knew that he hadn’t told me. My visit with Michael seemed to leave more unanswered questions. I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere.
I leapt up from the bed, and marched to the phone as I punched in the number which I had almost learnt by heart, from looking at it so often. When the phone picked up, I heard the familiar voice of Richard on the other end.
“Richard it’s Mon, I need to see you, I need answers, and you are going to give them to me, I’ve had enough fucking around” I spat.
From the silence on the other end, I could tell that he was shocked.
“Ok, tomorrow, same place, and ten o’clock” he said quietly as he hung up the phone with a clunk.
I instantly had regret, and felt so guilty that I was lying to my dad but there was an inner force that continued to push me forward and I couldn’t give it up until I knew who killed Dylan.
Chapter Twenty.
My hands were in a constant tremor as I entered the empty dank train platform. I saw the silhouette of Richard standing close to the vending machine he wore the same red flannelette shirt. He had his back to me and jumped slightly when I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Mon” he said loudly in his fright.
I fought the urge to start laughing at the comical look of fright on his face.
“Richard, I saw Michael yesterday”
Richard frowned, and shoved his hands into his jeans pocket.
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to speak to you again, that you were a bad person and I should stay away from you, why would he say all that?”
Richard’s frown grew deeper, as he began to rock back and forth from foot to foot.
“Is that all he said?”
I nodded, as I watched him, and tried to read something from his face.
“He’s probably right, you shouldn’t be speaking to me, and I’m not a good person”
I raised my eyebrows at him, I felt like I should have been scared, but I couldn’t be. The fat man that stood in front of me was about as scary as a teddy bear with a clown mask. I smiled at my own analogy, but quickly tried to wipe it from my face.
“I don’t believe that” I said.
He looked at me, with shock on his face, he shook his head.
“You know, you and Tilly are a lot alike. Your both stubborn mules, who don’t take no for an answer”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Would you give up on the answers if you were in my situation” I said as I ran my fingers over my belly.
He watched me carefully.
“I would if the answers were too painful to know”
I felt my anger beginning to rise.
“Why does everyone think I can’t handle the truth, I know I’m only sixteen, but seriously, don’t I deserve the truth?” I said through clenched teeth.
Richard nodded.
“Your right, you do deserve the truth” he said; he sounded exasperated, he ran his fat tattooed hand over his face.
“I know that Michael was paid to kill Dylan, but by who?”
Richard pointed to the green metal bench seat, as he moved and sat down with a grunt, I sat down beside him.
“By me” he said; he watched me out the corner of his eye.
“Ok, so why? What had Dylan done to you?”
Fear had begun to creep in between the layers of anger, Richard had just admitted that he had ordered the death of Dylan, and here I was sitting opposite him. Suddenly Michael’s words seemed all too real and I wasn’t sure whether I had made the right choice in coming to meet with Richard.
“Dylan, hadn’t done anything to me, hell I didn’t even know the guy, like I told you, I was seeing Tilly, I was, am in love with Tilly, the drugs, they make her crazy, but I can see through that, I can see around the addiction and see her”
“Then why the hell would you have him killed, if he had nothing to do with you, if it was Tilly you wanted, he wouldn’t have cared, he wanted me”
Richard nodded and ran his hand through his curly brown hair.
“I know that now. Look I didn’t do it because I wanted Tilly; I knew that sh
e would have broken up with him if she wanted to. That wasn’t the issue”
I stared blankly at Richard, I tried to comprehend what he was saying, I tried to read between the lines, but I couldn’t work it out.
“Oh for fucks sake, Mon, Tilly wanted Dylan dead, not me, Tilly did”
A loud ring echoed through my ears, and my head began to spin, I suddenly felt like I was going to faint or vomit all at once. I began to shake all over, and had to hold onto the back of the bench seat to keep from falling off. Richard reached out and grabbed my arm. I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead and heard Richard swear, as he stood up, he lifted my feet onto the bench and eased me down to a lying position.
The ringing was so loud, that I couldn’t hear anything he was saying. Suddenly everything went black. When I came to, I opened my eyes gingerly; the sweat had turned cold as the breeze whipped down the empty Sunday platform. I sat up a little shakily and looked around. Richard was nowhere around. I felt sick to my stomach, but the ringing in my ears had eased.
I touched my belly and felt the baby leap in response. I slowly stood, feeling a little shaky, but was able to hold myself up. With every step I felt a bit stronger, and soon realised that I was ravenous. I got to the food court and ordered a Big Mac; I gulped it down, and felt like I hadn’t eaten in weeks, I saw Richard appear at the entrance. He came scuttling over to the table where I woofed down chips, like a mad woman.
“Shit you scared me then” he said, as he sat at the table in front of me.
I shrugged, as I slugged large mouthfuls of coke and took a large bite from the Big Mac, feeling fuller and better with every bite.
“Why did Tilly do it?” I asked between mouthfuls.
“Jealousy, drugs, and a mix between the two” he said.
I nodded. I was so angry, anger I had never felt before, a betrayal that I didn’t think anyone could fully comprehend.
“Are you ok now?” Richard said he watched me with a mix of disgust and amusement at my maniacal eating. I nodded, and shoved chips in on top of the mouth of burger I already had in my mouth.
He stood and left without a word. I didn’t even look up to see whether he paused or looked back. I didn’t care about him anymore. All I cared about was making sure that Tilly got what was coming to her.
All the way home, I thought about going and cutting her throat, beating her the way she beat me. I just wanted her to see death, I wanted her to feel pain, and I hated her. It didn’t matter anymore who she was, in that instant, I held nothing but hatred for her. As I rounded the corner of her street, my anger rose and my hatred filled every crevice of my heart. My head was pounding with the anger that pulsed through my veins. Dad’s car was in the driveway, and he looked shocked when I swung open the front door, and marched into the lounge room.
“Where is she? Where is that murdering piece of shit” I screamed, my hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my palms.
Dad leapt from the couch and came towards me his face twisted in concern.
“Mon, who are you talking about?”
“Tilly” I screamed, tears flowed down my face, my anger released like torrents of waterfalls. “She fucking killed him, she did this, and Richard told me”
Dad shook my shoulders, and put his face close to mine.
“Why did you speak to him again? Mon you promised me”
I nodded, and wiped the tears from my cheek with an angry swipe of the back of my hand. My knees began to buckle as I leant into Dad’s chest. He pulled me in tight, as he smoothed my hair and guided me over to the couch. He rocked me gently, he cooed in my ear, and held me tight.
“What did he say Mon?” he asked as he pushed me away slightly to look me in the face.
“He said that he paid Michael to kill Dylan, he did it for Tilly, he was in love with Tilly, and she did it because of a mix of jealousy and drugs, pretty fucking weak reason to kill someone” I hiccupped through sobs.
Dad reached up and put his hands on my cheeks, he wiped my tears away with his thumbs.
“Mon, you can’t take this on, this is your sister, and you have to let it go”
I frowned, and snapped my head back out of his hands, I moved swiftly to the other side of the couch out of his reach.
“No” I yelled. “I’m not letting this go, my baby, your grandchild, is going to be raised without a father because of that bitch”
“And what are you going to do? Kill her? Then the baby is going to be raised without a mother too, how selfish is that?” he said calmly.
I slammed my fist down on the edge of the couch, frustration and anger escaped me. I felt so helpless; my options seemed twisted and broken no matter what I did.
“I’m going to the cops. I’m going to tell them” I spat.
Dad nodded slowly.
“I’m not going to stop you from doing that, but just remember that this is your sister and what this will mean for her” he said.
“Why are you sticking up for her?” I said as fresh tears flowed down my face.
“Oh Mon, I’m not, but no matter what she has done, I still love her, she’s still my daughter, I would do the same for you” he said, as he reached out for my hand, which I snapped out of his reach.
I stood up, and felt a little unsteady. I saw my dad reach out to me, I stabled myself and marched to the front door, and swung it open, to see Tilly standing there, her hand ready to turn the knob. Her face was shocked, but soon turned to a mix of anger and hatred. I was sure my face mixed hers.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
I couldn’t form words, as I pushed past her and ran down the driveway. I heard Dad’s car rumble beside me as I rounded the corner. I stopped to look at him and went to the curb I opened the door and flopped down onto the seat.
“To the police station then?” he asked, as he pulled away from the edge of the road.
Dad didn’t come in with me when we pulled up at the police station; I didn’t look back at him, but just kept focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. I asked to speak to Sergeant Renee about the information I had.
“Monica, you want to come with me?” she said, as she pointed towards the door.
I followed her into another small interview room, filled with a desk and typewriter. I sat down on the hard backed metal chair.
“How long have you got left?” she asked as she nodded towards my belly.
“Ten more weeks” I said; I patted my belly with a smile. She smiled back at me.
“What did you want to tell me” she said; she took out a large note pad and pen.
“Michael was paid to kill Dylan, by a man named Richard, who did it on the word of my sister Tilly” I said, the words just seemed to fall out of my mouth.
Sergeant Renee, her pen poised above the paper, looked up at me, a frown furrowed her eyebrows. She slowly stood and told me to stay where I was, while she left the room. Soon she returned with a big man, not in a uniform. The man almost filled the room he was so big. His size was intimidating but not as much as his big booming voice when he spoke to me. I felt suddenly more fear than I had in months.
The police man introduced himself as Detective Simon Green, a homicide detective, who was dealing with Dylan’s case. He sat down at the desk, as the Sergeant Renee left; she had left me and the Detective to face each other. The Detective pressed the record button on the tape recorder that I hadn’t noticed previously. He spoke the date and time into the recorder, and explained who he was and who I was, and the reason I was there.
“Ok start from the start, how do you know that Richard paid Michael and Tilly asked Richard to kill Dylan” he said to me, his eyes softening.
Over the following two hours, I told my story to the Detective, who listened intently, occasionally writing a note in the big notepad and asking me to clarify certain points. He only stopped the tape once to organise a drink of water for me. With every word I spoke I felt like more and more was lifting from my heart. I felt like it was some s
ort of therapy, to finally see some justice to come for Dylan.
“That’s it” I said, as I leant back in the chair, and rubbed my eyes; I felt exhausted.
“That’s the end of taping at 6.54pm with Monica Tomlinson” he said as he switched the stop button on the tape recorder.
“Thank you Monica, you’ve done the right thing” he said; his smile was gentle. He reached over and shook my hand. “We are going to get some justice for Dylan now and for your little one”.
I smiled gently, as I stood to leave the small cubicle. When I came out it was dark outside, and I could make out Dad’s car still in the carpark, he jumped slightly when I opened the door, he had his chair back and his eyes closed.
“Mon. Everything ok?” he said, as he put his chair back into a sitting position.
“Yes, everything is ok now” I said.
“Home then?”
“No” I said shaking my head “I want to go back to your house, I want to speak with Tilly” I said.
“Are you sure that is wise?” he said; he fired the car to life.
I didn’t respond, but the one thing my dad seemed to have learnt about me, is that I never say I want to do something unless I mean to do it. As the house came into view, I could see the marked police car out the front. When we pulled into the driveway, two police men stood at the front door, I recognised the Detective that stood inside talking to Tilly. He looked over at me and gave me a slight nod. I smiled. He stood Tilly up off the couch, and placed handcuffs on her wrists behind her back. He began to lead her out the door, when she noticed me standing there. Her face contorted instantly into anger I had never seen before, she pulled on the restraints of the Detectives arms.
“You fucking little cunt, you did this” she hissed.
“Yes I did” I called as the Detective lead her out the front door, I followed them. “And Tilly?” I called.
The detective stopped, as Tilly turned to look at me.
“The baby, its Dylan’s” I called; I summoned up the biggest smile I could muster.
She screamed, and jerked at the Detectives arms, but he held her tight, as he pulled her towards the marked police car, and pushed her down onto the seat. I stood in the front door, and watched as they drove away. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but I could hear her muffled screams as they pulled away. The sense of relief was huge, as they drove away. Justice had finally come.
