“I will, thank you.”
Matt found it difficult to walk away. He was looking forward to the day the case closed for two reasons. The first being the Butcher would finally be behind bars where he belonged. The second was so that he could finally ask Natalie out. He was seriously having trouble keeping his distance.
He handed her a folded piece of paper he’d retrieved from his back pocket. “When you’re done, just fax it over. The number is on top. Any questions—”
“I’ll call you,” Natalie finished as she unfolded the sheet and glanced down. “It all looks fairly simple and straightforward.”
Matt hesitated. He really didn’t want to leave her. Especially knowing there was a man out there who considered her his possession. He would get Nick and Dean to dig into this Derek Butler’s background. If Natalie thought he’d do it again it was more than likely she wasn’t his first.
“Goodbye, Matt,” she said as walked him to his car.
He climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. She waved to him as he drove down the street. He shook his head. That woman had seriously done a number on him. He headed back to the LAC, suddenly motivated to get some work done.
Chapter 17
“I read the file,” Hallie said as soon as Natalie entered the interview room. “It wasn’t easy. In fact, I felt like I was being flayed alive.”
Natalie blinked at the sudden ambush. She studied Hallie as she took her seat and got comfortable. “How do you feel now?”
Hallie shrugged. Her red-brown hair rested on her shoulders and her body was poised with a quiet calm. Natalie hadn’t been sure what to expect. She should have known Hallie would triumph. She was strong, resilient, and determined. If Hallie put her mind to something there would be nothing that would stand in her way.
“Fine I guess. Numb maybe. What am I supposed to feel like?”
“There is no wrong answer to that and numb is an understandable response,” Natalie advised. “Did the nurses have to calm you?”
Hallie shook her head. “No. I was surprised. It took me a while but I got through it. When I first started reading, I felt sick. There was no escape. My mind couldn’t retreat and I was made to accept what I read and as I did, my memory became clearer, sharper. I remember being in the foot-well of the car and hearing the brakes squeal against the road. It was like all my senses came alive.”
Natalie listened to Hallie as she reiterated how she had felt each precise moment, her memory so detailed, Natalie had no issues with imagining the scene. She watched as Hallie breathed through her distress, her rage now contained and no longer tactile. It appeared to Natalie she had made the right choice, having Hallie confront that night. She had faced her fear, accepted the truth and could now move on. She was still young and the human brain had an amazing capacity to heal. It wasn’t over but it was the first step forward.
Natalie couldn’t have been more proud. Hallie had made such strives in their short acquaintance and her sheer will kept her going. Much like it had that night, Natalie thought. She couldn’t wait to share the news with Matt, who would be overjoyed as well. They alone cared what happened to Hallie.
“What else do you remember?” Natalie prodded when Hallie fell quiet.
“Nothing I haven’t said before. Dark hair and eyes. He was tall, about the same as my father. Strong. He pulled my dad through the window of the car like he weighed nothing.”
Ian Walker, Natalie knew from the reports she had read, had been five-foot-seven and had weighed a little over a hundred kilos.
“I have the strangest sensation that I should know him. I looked at him and he felt familiar to me. But I know I don’t know him. Maybe I am crazy.”
“You’re not crazy,” Natalie told her. “I dreamt of him once and I had the same thought, that I had seen him before. We were in the forest and I saw you running. You were so scared and all I wanted to do was save you from him, from the future I knew you would have. But it was dream and I couldn’t.”
“But you thought you knew him?” Hallie asked, her brow furrowed.
Natalie nodded. “I did at the time. I turned and saw him. He was as close to me as you are.”
“What happened?”
Natalie decided against telling Hallie the truth. She didn’t want her to know she had dreamed of him stabbing her. “I woke up. But unlike you I had been looking at the rendering the police artist had drawn from your description before I fell asleep.”
“I guess the same could be said for me too. I’ve had years of being haunted by him in my nightmares. After all this time I kind of do feel as if I know him. At least his shell.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Damn, I was really hoping I could help. You and Matt have been so great to me. I would’ve loved to give you something that would crack the case.”
Natalie reached across the table and placed her hand on Hallie’s arm.
“You have done far more than you can imagine. You gave them something when they had absolutely nothing. You keep underestimating yourself, Hallie, and you have to stop. You are an amazing woman and to think you’re only seventeen. I can’t wait to see what else you’ll do.”
Hallie blushed at the compliment. “You have more confidence than I do. It won’t matter what I do. I will always be the daughter of murdered parents or the girl who spent time in a mental hospital. I could cure cancer and my past will be all anyone will remember.”
Natalie squeezed the arm beneath her palm gently. “You’ll overcome it as you have with everything else. Remember no one in this world is untouched. No matter how perfect their lives may seem. Everyone has experienced some kind of trauma, just in varying degrees. But it’s what we do with our lives that counts.”
***
Hours later, Natalie sat at her dining table, printouts of newspaper articles in front of her. After leaving Hallie, she had called Matt and advised him of Hallie’s progress. As she had thought, he had been pleased if not a little disappointed that it had yielded nothing he could use. She had told him it was still early, and that Hallie’s memory would continue to get clearer as each new day passed, but she had advised against getting his hopes up. There could be moments Hallie may never recollect but Natalie felt Hallie would be unlucky enough to remember with crystal clear clarity given enough time.
She had hung up with Matt and returned to her office where she had brought up Google and printed out every article pertaining to the Butcher. She had to find this man, now more than ever. She didn’t want anything to hinder Hallie’s progress, and Natalie wanted nothing more than to share the world with her, but she knew that while the Butcher still roamed free Hallie would remain locked behind the doors of the hospital. Hadn’t Hallie’s past convinced her of that?
Outside, a storm was brewing and Natalie could smell the rain coming on the breeze. Even in spring, Harbour Bay had a good amount of rainfall. While other cities were on water restrictions, they were still enjoying watering their gardens and washing their cars.
She had taken a shower earlier, trying to alleviate the tension in her body. It had been a hard and stressful couple of days and she was looking forward to when it was all over. She’d dressed in her warmest flannel pyjamas with a panda bear print on them and had poured herself a glass of wine to fortify herself against the horror she knew she was about to read.
The unknown man, the Butcher as the media had called him, had been active for years before the Walker double homicides or so the police had believed. Every case they attributed to him had been reopened and cross examined in the hopes of finding some evidence left behind by a young amateur but even back then, he had been meticulous.
His frenzied attacks had been quick to incapacitate so there was no DNA to be had from a struggle by the victim. But he had taken his time after that first debilitating blow. Natalie shivered. How horrible it must’ve been for those women, knowing they were going to die, knowing help wouldn’t come. It was the most frightening thing she could think of, spending your last few hours on
earth with a monster like him. A man who got pleasure from ending lives and felt no guilt.
He was a conundrum, Natalie admitted. None of his victims fit a type, but with the exception of Ian Walker, they were all female. No two were alike, spread across the country far and wide, from both the city and outback. They were of different ages and occupations and she remembered Matt telling her the police had researched each victim thoroughly and had found no schools or gyms in common either now or in the past.
Each victim had no traits identical to another and were murdered on different days and dates which ruled out ritual killings and other patterns they searched for. She could certainly understand their frustration and was slowly but surely driving herself insane trying to find that one clue that would answer all her questions.
Natalie sat back in her chair, allowing the back to provide support and brought the sheets of paper littered on her table closer where she could reach them. She heard the thunder outside. It crackled throughout the dark sky, following the bright lightning flash and knew the storm was imminent.
She tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the newspaper articles her Google search had located. There was one that had a picture of the Senator and his wife during their happier days. Another newspaper had found a family snapshot taken just months before their deaths and had published it against a gory title.
Natalie picked up the print-out with the snapshot. The Walker family smiled up at the camera. They looked so happy. Little did they know they would soon be torn apart forever. It was a senseless murder. One that had changed the nation and not for the better. A Senator and his wife. Two people devoted to each other, their daughter, and their country.
The newspaper report had gone on to speculate it had been a political murder; that perhaps someone who had not yet come forward to claim responsibility had wanted to make a very clear statement. The police had denied that in a media release and had said the perpetrator was most likely a drifter, a transient, and the couple had been unfortunate to happen upon the wrong time and place.
The task force had closed down after seven months when it became clear the Butcher had left the state, moving on to greener pastures. He would later become the worst serial killer in the country and the most anonymous, never once seeking out attention by contacting police or the media.
Natalie stared at the family photo. Ian, a handsome man in his early forties, had been a favourite among voters. His beloved wife, a homemaker looking younger than her thirty-something years, had boosted his ratings with the family man image. Then there was Hallie, an adorable child about to embark into her teenage years, a mop of red-brown hair on her head as she smiled cheekily at the camera. Natalie’s heart broke. She had held that child in her arms while she had cried for her family and mourned their loss and her own.
Natalie sat there for minutes, her gaze fixed on the family photo. She watched as it blurred before her eyes. She blinked away tears, trying to refocus. Once she had some semblance of control over her emotions, Natalie looked back at the photo and noticed it no longer held the Walker family, but a different family altogether and her hand uncontrollably shook.
The man wore a proud look, his teeth slightly crooked as he smiled towards the camera. One arm was around the waist of a blonde woman, his other resting on the shoulder of a six-year-old. There was a look of utter bliss on all their faces. A perfect family photo. But then only happy days were generally recorded in photos but the bad ones seemed to stay with you forever, without the 2D memento.
Natalie recognised the photo. She had seen it many times before. Had touched it, stroked it and even wished upon a star with it. She felt the tears fall down unbidden and she allowed herself to be swallowed up with grief, to go to a place she fought to forget. She closed her eyes remembering the farm house, the chipped paint, the screen door hanging precariously by one hinge. She had been so scared, fearful her stepfather would wake up and catch her as she folded the photo in half and tucked it into her jeans pocket. She had picked up her school bag, not filled with books that day but with clothes and a few of her worldly possessions.
She had been twelve, running away from home. Her father had passed on four years ago and in a state of despair and possible financial ruin her mother had remarried. Little had she known he was the town drunk and would often beat her when he got home from the pub.
He had drunk them out of the little money her daddy had left them and her mother had become more distant in her melancholy, opting to leave the world with pills and booze if only for a short time. When her mother had stopped being an amusing victim, Natalie’s stepfather had turned on her. His so called child-rearing and discipline a world of cruel punishment. A child should never know what an adult’s fist feels like, should never know the people who were supposed to protect them were the ones destroying them.
It had been after a particularly brutal beating from her beloved stepfather that little ‘Natty’ had decided no more. She had vowed then and there that she wouldn’t allow that man to touch or hurt her again. She had lived in constant fear and her nerves were shot while she waited for her liberation day.
She had packed her school bag and had slowly descended the staircase, creeping past her unconscious stepfather lying on the living room floor. She opened the door and as it had screeched, had held her breath silently praying he would sleep through the sound. Her heart had pounded in her ears and had almost given out when he rolled over, his face to her. It had taken a few moments for her to realise he was still asleep. She had grabbed her bicycle and had ridden for hours until she came to the closest bus station where she waited, her small body filled with tension, hyped up on adrenaline for the bus to come.
It had taken sixteen hours for her to finally arrive at the Harbour Bay Bus Terminal but when it did, she thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world. She was free. She had hopped off the bus and had searched the waiting faces until her gaze had landed on her aunt’s face.
She could still remember, even to this day, the sound of pleasure coming from the woman’s voice when she had called out to her. She had run into her Aunt Maggie’s waiting arms and she had been home.
“Well, look at you,” Aunt Maggie had said, looking her up and down critically. Natalie had wished she had brushed her hair on the bus and rushed to finger comb it now. “So grown up. Your father would be so proud of you. Come on, let’s go home, I bet you’re tired, huh? Uncle Roger is there waiting for you.”
Natalie knew she owed her entire life and future to Maggie and Roger. They had been there for her when her own parents had failed.
A thunderclap brought her out of her reverie. Her hands shook and tears were rolling down her face but she managed to keep the sobs bound within her. This was why she helped other people and never thought about her own past. Nothing good came from it and she always wound up in a state.
She put the article down as another thunderclap rolled across the black sky. Rain drops started to splatter against her large bay window that overlooked her backyard. She lifted up another newspaper clipping highlighting the details of the gruesome murders. She could see the crime scene in her head, like she had just arrived there and it was fresh in her mind. She saw the mutilated bodies. She could smell the metallic stench of blood and death. She swallowed hard to keep the bile that was threatening to surface at bay.
She took in other news clippings of the other murders accredited to the Butcher. Their crime scenes too found their way into her head. The graphic images swirled around and she swore she could smell their decomposed bodies and the coppery taste of blood in her mouth and imagined she could feel the blood warm and sticky on her body. The lightning outside flashed over her face as she struggled to the surface from the nightmare she found herself in. Her hands flailed about as she tried to grab hold of something solid in this reality. Natalie knocked over her wine glass spilling red wine all over her table, the glass smashing into tiny pieces as it hit the hardwood floor.
She grabbed the
table, holding on as she waited for her vision to stop spinning. Her nails dug into the shiny table top as images flittered across her mind. She opened her eyes and looked out into her garden just as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Staring right back at her from the other side of the glass were the blackest eyes she had ever seen.
Chapter 18
Natalie jumped up from her seat screaming. She knocked over her chair as she got to her feet and scrambled backwards. The light disappeared from the sky, returning the world to black once more. Her heart pounded in her chest and threatened to burst through her ribcage. She placed her palm over her heart for a few seconds in a futile gesture to still it before she took off for the kitchen.
She opened the top drawer of her merle-grey granite bench top and immediately located her flashlight buried amongst her other emergency items such as candles and matches and tested the batteries. Satisfied they were in working order, Natalie made her way to the front door, collecting her car keys from the island bench on the way past. Her keys cut into her palm as she held onto them tightly. She could feel the panic button attached to her key ring and felt somewhat protected.
Armed, Natalie opened her front door and stepped out into the night. She clicked on the flashlight, the strong beam lighting her way as she slowly walked towards her backyard. She could feel the fear induced perspiration coating her skin, making her uncomfortable in the muggy air. Her street was quiet, the promise of rain keeping her neighbours inside. She could hear a dog bark several houses down and wondered if he could smell her intruder.
Lights shined brightly in the surrounding houses but no porch light came on. No one came to investigate her scream. She felt saddened by that fact and a little annoyed if she was honest with herself. What if she’d been attacked? She didn’t like to think what would’ve happened to her if she had been. How long would it have taken before help arrived? Would anyone miss her? She was alone in the world now with no real friends and no close relatives. She barely knew her neighbours, only enough to say hello.
Not Forgotten Page 13
