Crocodile Spirit Dreaming - Possession - Books 1 - 3

by Graham Wilson

  “So, on their behalf, I have a series of questions to ask you. If you are happy I will go through them, one by one.” Susan nodded.

  Detective Brent placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of him. It looked like it had about ten questions on it. He began.

  “Did you meet a Mark Bennet while in Australia?

  Susan answered “Yes.” They looked at her questioningly, as if to say. Is that all? She remained silent.

  Detective Brent moved restlessly, as if feeling impatient with the proceedings. However Susan remained impassive. He moved on to the next question. “Where did you meet him?”

  Susan answered, “In Cairns.”

  Detective Brent rolled his eyes. “Could you be a bit more expansive?”

  Susan replied, “On a boat tour to the Great Barrier Reef. We were two of ten people who did a dive together. We were diving buddies.”

  “Did you have a continuing relationship with him?

  Susan answered “Yes.”

  “What was the nature of that relationship?

  Susan replied, “It was both a friendly and sexual relationship.”

  Susan could sense their frustration with her minimal answers. But she knew these people were not here to help her, they were here to gather evidence that could later be used against her. So she maintained a poker face.

  Brent continued. “Did you go travelling with him?”

  She answered “Yes.”

  Could you tell me where you travelled and over what period?

  Susan answered, “I met him in Alice Springs around the start of August. I travelled with him in his Toyota four wheel drive through a range of parts of the Northern Territory until we came to Timber Creek. Then I left him to travel to Darwin, and return to England. He told me he was going to Western Australia via Kununurra as he had work there.”

  Brent continued. “When did you last see him?

  Susan replied, “In Timber Creek.”

  Brent asked, “Did you have any conflicts or arguments with him?

  Susan could feel this make her shake inside. She tried to say nothing and maintain her poker face, pausing until she felt in control. She answered, “No.”

  Brent raised an eyebrow, “Are you really sure that is right? You travelled with a man, with whom you have admitted to having an intimate relationship, across the Northern Territory and had no arguments, conflicts or other heated exchanges?

  Susan said nothing.

  Brent continued. “Do you have any knowledge of what has happened to Mark Bennet since you last saw him and have you had any further contact with him since this time?

  Susan answered, “No to both questions.”

  There was a long pause. It was as if the interview had not gone as the detectives expected. Now they seemed unsure of their next step. In the meantime they were using silence to put pressure on her. The silence seemed to go on and on.

  Finally Susan said, “Will that be all?”

  Finally Detective Brent replied. “They have asked us to request that you provide a DNA and fingerprint sample.”

  Susan felt a sinking feeling, there must be much more to this inquiry if they wanted that. She was determined to maintain her composure. She said “You need to explain the basis on which this is requested before I could agree to it. So, as of now, my answer is No.”

  Then she asked “Is the Interview finished?”

  At this juncture she watched them quietly confer for a minute. Then they both excused themselves and stood up. Sergeant Lacey asked her politely if she would wait for a few minutes. She nodded and they left the room.

  Five minutes passed. An older lady, who looked like an orderly, came in with a jug of water and a glass. She said, “How are you dearie? The inspector asked if I would offer you a glass of water and also see if you would like a cup of tea or coffee.”

  Susan nodded her thanks, and took the proffered glass of water.

  The woman waited, “How about that cup of tea, I am sure you have had a busy day?

  There was something kind and motherly about the way the woman asked, like she cared. Susan could feel her hard resolve crumbling. She dared not speak, lest her voice give her away, so she shook her head mutely.

  The woman said, “Right you are then,” gave her a little pat on the shoulder and walked out.

  Susan felt tears start to form in her eyes at this kindness. She knew they were watching her and was determined not to crack. She steeled herself, took a deep breath, and pressed a tissue to her eyes and nose.

  This time the silence seemed to go on and on, perhaps it was another five or ten minutes. Susan tried to keep her mind blank.

  Finally the door opened and three people walked in, the two former police officers along with a third, older man. He introduced himself as Senior Detective Inspector Davidson. He said he headed this part of Scotland Yard, whatever part it was. He reminded her of her father, a weather beaten face but with kindly, if sharp, eyes.

  His manner was different. As soon as he sat down he turned to her in a friendly and engaging manner.

  “Susan, I watched the formal interview that happened with you a short while ago and while you answered the questions you were far from forthcoming. So I have just been on the phone to my Australian counterparts, to seek their agreement to tell you more of what this is about. They have agreed that if we want your cooperation it is only fair we tell you why we are questioning you and what we need to find out. Then we will all be on the same page, and not going in circles around each other.

  “So I will tell you what I can about the circumstances of this investigation. At the end of September part of the body of a man was found in the Northern Territory in a billabong, by a fisherman. At first it was thought he had died from a crocodile attack, but then it was found that he had a fractured skull, which had occurred prior to this. The man’s identity was unknown. This was widely reported at the time, and he had been called Crocodile Man in the press. As you can imagine it was a sensational story, particularly when it became a murder investigation.

  “The Northern Territory Police now believe this man was Mark Bennet of Alice Springs, though the press do not yet have that information.

  The police have also obtained CCTV footage showing a person who looks remarkably like you shared a room with a Mark Bennet at Yulara. They have provided this image from the CCTV footage,” he said, passing a sheet of paper across the table to Susan. She stared at it, it was a full face photo of herself; it was absolutely unmistakable. The realisation was like an electric shock.

  He continued, “Two days ago the police matched this photo with an image of the same person on arrival in Cairns. It gave them a name and passport number. As a result they sought our assistance. I think we are all agreed that this person is you. Now you have told us you knew and travelled with Mark Bennet in the Northern Territory until shortly before he was murdered.

  “At this stage your identity and that of Mark Bennet is not publicly known, but the police will have to release this information very soon. You will be named as a person of interest in his disappearance with a possible connection to his murder.

  “As I am sure you can imagine, when this happens your photo will be on the front page of every newspaper in Australia and Britain. There will be all sorts of lurid speculation about a beautiful English girl’s love tryst with the man they have termed “Crocodile Man.” There will be a frenzy of media interest in everything connected to you; friends, family, boyfriends.

  “As well as assisting the Australian police in a murder inquiry, we are conscious of trying to protect your and British interests in this case. You are a British citizen. What we have found about you in the last two days leads us to believe, while you had an affair with this man, involvement in his murder is out of character.

  “So we are seeking, both us and the Australian authorities, cooperative assistance with our inquiries. We need to know who Mark Bennet was, who else he knew and met, where you went, all that sort of thing?

&nbs
p; “If you agree to assist then the information released to the media can be kept limited while we pursue our investigation, simply naming you as a person who knew and travelled with him, someone who is assisting the English and Australian police in tracing his movements and determining the identity of people, as yet unknown, who may be involved in his murder.

  An alternative scenario, which may play out if we don’t have your cooperation, is that you are identified in the media as a likely murderer, killing your companion is a lovers tiff, feeding him to the crocodiles to the hide the evidence. We both know how such a story is likely to run.

  “So I come in here to ask for your cooperation. I understand the request for DNA and fingerprints is for exclusion purposes at this stage, but that is a matter on which you may wish to seek your own legal advice. “

  He finished speaking and paused for a minute, as if to let her digest this information.

  Then he turned to her in an almost fatherly way and said. “Well Susan, I have laid my cards on the table as honestly as I can. I don’t know what happened but you seem like a nice girl and I would not pick you for a murderer. So can you help us? We are asking for your help in this matter and if you give it, we will do our best to hose down all the media sensation.

  Susan looked at his kindly face. She wanted to say yes, but could not, cooperation would mean telling all she knew of Mark and giving over all the secrets he had given her. She could not do that. And despite all that they saw of her nice girl image, the charge was true, she was Mark’s murderer. So to cooperate to tell a lie was pointless.

  She would just have to let the cards fall where they may. All she could think of was playing for a bit of time so that she could at least tell David, and her family and friends that their marriage could not happen. It would all be out in the open soon enough anyway.

  So she took a deep breath, turned to face them all and said. I wish I could help you more, but there is very little I know. As you say I will need to talk to a lawyer, particularly about giving DNA or other samples. So I would ask if you could give me a couple days before I reply to that request. The glass that she had drunk from still sat in front of her. Almost absently she picked it up and wiped its surfaces, inside and out with a tissue before she carefully placed it back on the table. The detectives were all looking at her strangely.

  “That was a very strange thing to do for someone who is assisting us,” said Detective Brent. She could sense his antipathy and knew she had not done anything to get him in her corner.

  Suddenly it was all too much. She felt as if inside she had lost the will to fight. She could feel her body and resolve crumbling as she looked away. She was so tired; it was all too hard. Why had it come to this? It was not what she wanted and yet she seemed to be trapped inside this horror story that never went away. She turned to the side and covered her face with her hands. She could feel her body shaking with the effort of trying not to cry.

  She took a deep breath and asked in as normal voice as she could muster. “Can I leave now?” She directed her question to Inspector Davidson.

  He replied. “If that is really what you want to do, though I think it would better to talk it through some more. I suggest you engage a lawyer, and if you don’t know one I can give you some names. I will ask the Australian Police to hold off from releasing any information to the public for another 48 hours, but that is the best I can do.

  “If we do not have your agreement and a real demonstration of your willingness to cooperate by then I expect the Australian Police will inform the press of their information and seek public assistance in locating Mark Bennet’s killer. I think we all understand what that means.

  “Susan, I know your father, not well but we have met a few times. He is a man I have great respect for, a senior civil servant of Her Majesty’s Government. I am trying to protect your interests, but I am also trying to protect your father and your family’s interests and those of this government. I would prefer that none of us get caught up in a distasteful and extremely sensation piece of publicity, that will sell lots of newspapers but help none of us.

  “Of course at a public level the police will be helping the Australian government and be completely impartial in relation to where the evidence leads. But nevertheless I am asking for your assistance, it will make it easier for us all if we can offer this to the Australian Police.”

  Susan stood up and just looked directly at Inspector Davidson, “Thank you for your honesty, telling me what you know. I would tell you if I did, but I simply do not know what I will do.”

  With that Susan walked out the door. The lady at the front counter saw her coming out and asked whether she would like her to call a taxi. Susan shook her head and went outside.

  Chapter 15 – A Friend

  Susan walked away from Scotland Yard with her mind in a daze.

  Her thoughts were a jumble of incoherent images, images of Mark when she last saw him, a mangled corpse in the mouth of a crocodile, images of him holding her in his arms and loving her, images of his serious half smiling eyes, images of David in his Tweed jacket leaning on the side of his sports car in the English country side, images of the little church in Watsons Bay where she and David had sat quietly together and planned their marriage, images of tabloids screaming out her name, images of the shocked faces of all her family and friends as she was exposed in the papers and then led away in handcuffs, hideous images of a gleeful crocodile spirit cackling in delight at her comeuppance.

  It was a November afternoon and night was rapidly descending on a bleak London day. It was not raining but the wind was blowing heavy low clouds across the sky. She only had a light jacket on. She wrapped this tighter around herself but was otherwise impervious to the outside; her mind was lost in mazes of memories.

  She walked aimlessly, at one stage along the Thames, at other stages through largely deserted city streets. She did not have her handbag and could barely recall where she left it. Perhaps she had put it down at the police station somewhere. She knew she should contact her parents. They would be worried when she had not come home by this time of night. There were also lots of other things she should do, but she could not think clearly enough to plan and do them.

  Somehow, well into the night, her feet led her to the part of London where Anne lived. She found herself standing in front of this building, Anne’s flat was upstairs. A few lights were still on, so not everyone was in bed yet, though Anne probably was. Familiarity and force of habit made her ring the bell, she had no clear formed intention of going in. There was a long pause of silence, Susan did not ring again. A voice came over the intercom, a bit bleary. “Is somebody out there?”

  Susan replied, almost mechanically, just repeating her name into the speaker, “Susan.”

  Anne’s voice came back, “Susan, what in God’s name are you doing outside at this time of night? Come on in”. The front door lock clicked open. Susan stumbled up the flight of steps to Anne’s landing. Anne was there in her nightdress.

  “My God, Susan, what happened to you? You look awful.” Anne put her arm around her friend’s shoulders and led her inside. As she came into the warm Susan started to shiver violently. Anne pushed her into a chair, picked up a blanket and draped it over her and said, “First things first, a hot cocoa for us both then you can tell me what this is all about.”

  She heard Anne bustling in the kitchen. A minute later a hot cup was pressed into her hands. Susan tried to lift it to her lips but her hands were shaking too much. Anne took the cup from her and placed it on the table.

  “You look like you have seen a ghost. Spit it out, what has happened to you?”

  Susan tried to think of how to say something, but a mass of fragments inside her head would not connect. “I, it, they, Mark Bennet, David, a billabong in the Northern Territory, I went to work, I must have lost my bag.”

  Susan put her hands to her face. “Oh, Anne, it is all too hard, it is just such a confusing mess. My head is spinning. I have walked around for
hours trying to think what to do. I did not plan to, but somehow I ended up here and I don’t want to dump this on you either.”

  Anne looked at her with something like confused irritation. “Dump what?”

  Finally she got together a coherent thought. The police asked me to come to Scotland Yard this afternoon. She stopped there, trying to think what came next.

  Anne said, “And?”

  The “And” gave Susan a place to go on from. There were so many ands. Now they came spilling out.

  “When I went travelling to Australia I met a man called Mark Bennett, and I went travelling with him in the Outback, and I am going to have his baby and he has been murdered, and crocodiles have eaten him, and the police know I was with him, and they want me to tell them what happened, and I can’t tell them, and I can’t, and I can’t marry David. It is not fair to him and I will probably be in gaol. Oh Anne, it is all such a total fucked up mess. I just want to crawl into a hole and die.”

  Anne came over and put her arms around her. “Oh my poor, poor Suzie. I knew there was more to the Australian story, but this is much more, so much more, than even I thought. Just stop worrying for a minute. I am your friend. I know you are a good person, regardless of this mess, as you call it. So, when you are ready, tell me about it. At least tell me what you can without upsetting yourself too much”.

  Then Anne picked up Susan’s cocoa and gave it back to her. “Now, no more talk until you have drunk all this,” she said, in her most official, school teacher type voice.

  Susan sipped slowly; her hands were under control now. She stood up and walked over to the mirror in the hall. She really did look like a ghost, hair sticking out in all directions, wild eyes, white drawn face, and clothes askew and dishevelled.

  Suddenly she looked at Anne and smiled, a big smile. Anne smiled back a bit bemused. Susan started to giggle and then laugh. Anne could not help herself, she was laughing too. After a minute Susan controlled herself. “It all seems so ludicrous that I only half believe it is true. It is like the last night I spent with Mark, the situation was awful; it had spun out of control. Then suddenly we started laughing together. Next thing we were friends and lovers again. It solved nothing but it was wonderful, and this situation feels sort of the same”.