Susan sat down on the chair and laid her head on the table. All her forced jollity had drained away. It felt like someone had put a pin in a balloon. It was as if, since giving him the diary, she had a thread of hope that he may help her find some way out of this. Now that bubble was popped too. But more, she grieved for the loss of the one person who seemed to genuinely care about what had happened to Mark.
And beyond that she liked this man, really liked him, his humour, his vitality, his zest for life, his dark, handsome, wiry features. On that day, when he had jested that she pass Mark over in his favour and she had reposted that he had plenty already in the mile high club, a part of her subconscious had known that if she wasn’t with Mark she would have done the mile high thing with him too.
It was not that she had sought anything other than Mark, but she had recognised this man also had a primal attraction for her. But that was history. Like all that was good in her life he was gone too. She had thought her life felt empty before, now she understood what true emptiness was, that place when all future life hope ran into a dry well.
She realised after a minute that Buck was still standing there looking down at her with serious eyes. “What an idiot I am,” he muttered, “I assumed you would know, that is if you knew Vic at all. It was a major land and sea search which was on top of the news every night for a week.”
She lifted tear glistened eyes and tried to conjure a smile. “No, it is not your fault. As you say, I barely knew him. I only met him the once, with Mark. Then he came to visit the day before Christmas. It is just that, of all the people I have met since I came here, he is the only one who really cared about what I had done and who cared about Mark. The others – for them it was just a story or a crime to be solved, it could have been anyone. Vic cared he had lost his brother, that’s what he called Mark. He was so angry with me for killing him.”
She saw surprise on Buck’s face at the open admission, “That’s right,” she said. “I did kill him, and I am going to plead guilty. I made a mistake; I can’t explain it more than that. But it is past time for pretending.”
Now Buck sat down on the seat opposite looking stunned too. He shook his head as if it was hard to think of anything useful to say after that. After a while he leaned back and folded his arms.
“I came here with a plan to help you, imagining that you wanted to get out of this place. But the more I look at it the more it seems that you have decided you like it best in here in this cage. So much so that you are determined to stay here, come what may.
“So, maybe I am a bit daft, but there is an elephant in the room and everyone is trying to pretend it is not there, even as it is trampling on us. There is plenty that I don’t know, but I have just spent an hour talking to Sergeant Alan Richards, and I am starting to put a few pieces together. It is far from a full story, but I am about to tell you what I know, what I don’t know and what I think.
“You can nod or shake your head, or look blank, or act dumb, as you choose. But the story I am going to tell you needs to be said and, like it or not, I am determined to make you stand up and fight, even if it is only to fight back at me.
“Mark was my friend too, as was Vic. One is definitely dead and the other may well be. So it seems to me that I am the only one left standing in your corner. And the person you have to thank for that, like it or not, is Mark. He appointed me. So here I am, because I know that is what Mark would have wanted.
“He would not have cared a fig what this story said about him but, as sure as I know my name, I know he would have wanted your freedom, not to mention the freedom and the chance of a better life for his child that you carry.”
Susan could feel her resolve begin to crumble before this onslaught, the tears only a second away. She put her hands to her ears. “Please Buck, please, stop now. Don’t you see that is what this is about? If it was just about me, it would be simple, but it is about the future of our child. Others can think what they like, but I carry the responsibility.
“I cannot bear to have my child know the truth about his father. I know there was another Mark, a good Mark, but once the genie is out of the bottle it can never go back in. So I am imploring you. Don’t go there. It is not a good place to go. I would rather spend my life in jail and die with the secret. So yes, there is a secret, a terrible secret and I cannot tell it, even to you. For a minute I entrusted it to Vic, despite my fear.
“But it is an omen, now he is gone too with the secret untold. So it will not come from me, I will help no one who tries to go there. I will kill myself after the child is born to keep the secret locked away if I must. So go now, please seek the truth no further. I will not help you and I will stop you if I can. For my sake, for Mark’s sake, for Vic’s sake, but most of all for our child’s sake, just let it be.”
Buck looked completely stunned. He turned to walk away. But before he did, he looked at her with great sadness and said. “If that is your wish I will respect it.
“But before I go there is something I must tell you. On the night at the station, when you stayed there, Mark came to see me. He asked me to witness his will. He named me as an executor of his estate, he named you the sole beneficiary, and in doing so he placed on me the responsibility to help you anyway I can.
“I know he would not have wanted it this way, he named you because he loved you. So from here, whatever I do, it will be a betrayal either of him or of you. I only do what you ask because I think he would have me abide by your wishes, even if they are wrong.”
Susan looked at this strong man she had bent to her will and felt ashamed. Why were there no good choices and why did it always have to be so hard.
She walked over and put her hand on his arm. She said, “Thank you Buck, it is hard for me and even harder for you. Mark would know he could not have asked for a better friend. I know about his will and I know about his love, and I wish, with all my soul, I could bring him back. But I cannot, so now I must live without him in an empty place.”
Buck replied, “Wrong though I know you are, even Mark would have been impressed by your courage. God Damn you are one obstinate woman.” He gave her a half smile.
Suddenly she refused to be bowed. She smiled brightly and looked up at him saying. “Thank you so much for coming and visiting me. It was good to laugh and remember happy times. Please stay my friend and come to see me when you can. It would mean much to me.”
Chapter 9 - Who is Vincent Bassingham
Alan rang Buck on his mobile just before he logged on to work in the mid-afternoon, having been told that he would be finished his prison visit by then. Buck picked up on the first ring. “Buck here.”
“Well how did the visit go?”
He heard a hesitation come down the line, but then it cleared, just a half grunt then nothing for a few seconds. It was as if Buck was reflecting for a second what to tell.
“I was just doing a mental back flip about what to say. “Then I thought, we have been straight this morning, we might as well stay straight, and let the cards fall where they may.
“Actually I can’t tell you much. She is her normal charming self, quite gorgeous actually. I told her I was sorry that I could not bring Firefly, the horse she rode last time. She starting laughing. It was the most delightful and unaffected laugh, we both laughed till tears ran down our faces.
“But then I told her about Vic. Like you she had not heard the news, she had no idea it happened. When I told her he was missing and almost certainly dead it was as if someone put a knife through her soul’s brightness, her light was gone. She sat in the chair with her face on the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, she looked so defeated.
“She told me she had flown with him in the Gulf with Mark and he had visited the day before Christmas; that he was the first person she had met who really cared about Mark. Now he was gone she was devastated, as if emptiness would swallow her.
“Then she said she had told Vic something really important that day he visited, she said she had trusted
him with a secret. It was like she had some hope he could help her get out of this mess, and with his loss her hope had crumbled. She looked so forlorn.
“So I told her how Mark had entrusted me to try and help her. Then I tried to push her into telling me what the real story was, I started to spell out what I thought might have happened.
“But she has a steel core. I have never met such a tough cookie. Just for a minute I thought she would crack and give me something. But it was like you told me about that day when you first brought her in for questioning in London. She starts to soften, then something happens.
“This staggering self-control pulls her back. She is determined not to tell, she knows, you know and I know that something happened on that day, or maybe the day before, that told her that Mark was not who she thought he was.
“We are only guessing but she knows something real. I don’t begin to know what it is but she is determined never to let it out. She more or less told me that she had a secret that could never be told, she would protect it with her life. She even suggested she would kill herself rather than let it out. She said it was to protect her baby.”
“She told me she knew about the will, then she said she had killed Mark, but in doing so she made a terrible mistake. Now she is determined to plead guilty and take the punishment for her crime.
“She implored me not to try and find out, not to seek the truth, she said it was much better that I did not know. In the end I gave her my word I would not try and find and reveal this secret. So, in a way, I am compromised by her determination for secrecy too.
“I told her I would let it go. And so I must. That is why I hesitated. But I did not promise that I would not share this knowledge with you. And someone must find out. I have been thinking what to do for the last hour since I saw her. In the end I knew. I must hold to my deal with her, be her friend and dig no further.
“But Mark was my friend too. I shared good times and bad with him over eight years. He must have done something terrible, but he has given me responsibility for her. If it came to a choice for him between him and her I know, with certainty, he would have chosen her. It was obvious every time he looked at her; there was something so tender and protective in his eyes when they were together.
“So I cannot sit by and watch her spend twenty plus years in jail, to protect something she knows about him. I am completely sure Mark would not have wanted that. So I decided I must at least tell you what I know, perhaps it will open up a way to find who Mark was. There must be an explanation in his past life. In a way it makes sense, the man with no history is like the man who can never allow his history to be known.
Perhaps he killed his parents as a child, perhaps he murdered a brother or sister in a fit of rage, perhaps he is wanted for a terrible crime in another country; there is something and she knows it.
But she will not tell it. I have promised I will not try to discover it myself. If Vic was here perhaps he could. But my hope is dying that Vic and I will again sit together by a campfire and share more stories.
So all I can do is tell you what I know. I leave it for you to see if you can get to the truth. I cannot swear a deposition that there was a will naming her or that Mark’s real name was Vincent Bassingham. But perhaps in that name lies a history that will open up this story.
Alan felt a weight descend on him as these words were said. It was up to him, and his bosses had effectively closed the door on him working on this, at least officially. But yet he must find a way. He was glad Sandy was coming back in three more days. It might help to seek her wise counsel on this matter. He would struggle to find a way to chase this down without some real evidence. He contemplated making a sworn deposition that he had received this information from an anonymous source, in order to give him a basis to investigate. He was bound by his word to Buck, notwithstanding that he was an officer of the crown, just as Buck was bound by his word to Susan. Still a name was a name.
Knowing that he could do nothing further this week and his life was about to be consumed by his new job he parked it in his mind. Remember Vincent Mark Bassingham!
The next three days were frenetic and he barely had time to think. He was whacked when he logged off late Saturday, having just worked over forty hours in the last three days. He went home, showered, shaved and fell onto bed, having set the alarm to get up at 11 pm to meet Sandy off her Sydney plane.
Homecoming was lovely, bed was even better, though a bit more sleep would have been nice. In the early morning, after renewing their intimate acquaintance yet again, Alan told Sandy about his need to find if this man was really Vincent Mark Bassingham.
After a minute of silence Sandy looked at him and laughed. “Well you might have been pulled off the case. But no one has given any such instructions to me. And, as best I can recall, I am still the official pathologist on the case.
“I have a man with two names and possibly a third. Clearly I still have an identification to make. If he may not be Mark Bennet, or even Mark Butler, and may even be this new name, Vincent Mark Bassingham, then I have good grounds for further investigation of his identity, to try and locate the next of kin, to try and correctly inform the court as to his true identity, perhaps even to investigate, based on his DNA, whether he is related to any of the identities he claims.
“So leave it to me to try and hunt down Vincent Mark Bassingham. It is an uncommon name, so even though it may take a month or two, it should be possible. At least I will try.
“It is funny, but as I was by myself in Sydney, after you came back here, I sensed my work on this case is far from finished, that there is more for me to do. Perhaps it is some kind of funny thought transference from Susan and that strange crocodile spirit that I have sensed. So I am pleased to do this, particularly if it helps her. In the same way that Vic talked about Mark as his brother, I feel that Susan is my sister.
“I think to start with I will visit her in jail. After all I have never actually met her, just glimpsed her in court, despite how well I feel I know her. I will not try to pressure or frighten her, but talk to her, woman to woman, ask her my own questions and see if my female intuition, combined with my pathology investigation skills, will lead me anywhere.”
Chapter 10 – Meeting of Spirit Sisters
It was Wednesday before Sandy could arrange a prison visit. She decided to do it in a fully official manner, to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s. So first she explained to the senior pathologist about the dual identity; that two people had identified her murder victim with different names, albeit similar. So she must attempt to determine the victim’s true identity. She proposed to start with a visit to the prisoner, to seek further information on a true identity. Then she would pursue other leads which might be of value, particularly DNA based.
Her senior officer agreed that this was the correct thing to do and sent her an email of confirmation. Once this came through Sandy talked to the prison officers and scheduled her visit for 11 am the following day.
On arrival at the jail the warder asked Sandy if she needed her to stay in the visitor’s room.
Sandy shook her head, “No thank you, I am sure there will be no trouble.”
The warder showed her a button to push to notify them when she was finished, or to use as an alarm if the need arose. With that she nodded and left to fetch Susan. Sandy looked at the CCTV behind her realising it was all on camera and running through to a central console somewhere. A minute later the warder brought Susan in, directed her to the seat opposite, then left locking the external door behind her.
Sandy was surprised that, up close, Susan was both prettier and more diminutive than the image she had formed. In the distant court view and in dreams of Susan’s face, as seen through the mirror of Susan’s own mind, she was a bigger and plainer person. Perhaps this image was influenced by the media portrayal of her as some sort of seductive monster. Sandy had also imagined, from Alan’s description of her on the aeroplane, that Susan would be more fragile and vulnera
ble. Sandy was sure that if it was her sitting in Susan’s seat that would certainly have been the case.
Instead the real Susan who sat opposite had a very self-composed presence about her and the image that now formed in Sandy’s mind was closer to sprung steel than a porcelain doll, despite the pretty face.
As she sat down opposite Susan Sandy felt as if she should go through the formal introduction process. Instead Susan, without introduction, started the conversation. “I am so glad to meet you at last Sandy, as I feel I already know you. Both since the night of my dream of you at the billabong and more, since you gave evidence in court, I have this sense of having known you for a long time.”
Sandy looked at her in surprise, it was so much what she had been thinking and yet had been reluctant to say. To put it into words seemed somehow a bit crazy. Yet this lady spoke as if it was perfectly natural to know somebody from a dream shared months ago when they lived on opposite sides of the world.
It felt creepy, this thought communication thing. Yet she had encountered so much that was strange in this case, beginning that day at the billabong with that hugest ever crocodile that seemed to have sought out her and Alan. It had swum up right next to them and just stared, as if telling her and Alan something. Then the way Charlie had told her of the bad crocodile spirit of that place which needed to be placated, how it had fought him for the man’s head he had caught, in a tug of war, Sandy’s own knowledge of this girl’s face before she saw it on CCTV. So this shared connection was no more unusual than all the rest.
Susan continued, “I am really glad you have come to visit me, I have felt very much on my own lately and all visitors are nice, but you especially. I wanted to see if I liked you as much in person as I had imagined through seeing into your mind. And I am pleased that my first impression is that I do.
Crocodile Spirit Dreaming - Possession - Books 1 - 3 Page 52
