by P. Wish
“I’m resigning,” she said, barely audible.
“What?”
“I’ve decided to resign,” she said, her voice growing louder.
“Jane…” Her supervisor was breathless for a moment. “Wow…this is so sudden.”
Jane ignored her queasy stomach and nodded. Her supervisor pulled the while envelope towards himself.
“Well,” he exhaled. Jane’s gaze was fixed on the edge of the wooden desk. “What’s the reason?”
“I…I’m not well. I want to take some time off.”
“Is it Charlie’s death?” he asked. Jane was silent. His musty brown eyes turned to the computer screen. “It must have been hard.”
Jane nodded.
“What are you planning to do after you quit?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his low voice reassuring. Mark had been her mentor during her years as a homicide detective. She really needed to hear him tell her that she’d be okay. Because, she didn’t believe it herself.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the window, which was covered by blinds. Jane couldn’t see the expression in his eyes so she waited for him to speak. His hands clasped together and he sighed. Though he was letting it go for her sake, she knew that he must be affected by the news of her resignation. It was just like Mark to not ask her personal questions. That’s what she respected about him. He turned to her and distant look of nostalgia solidified on his face. “I happened to remember the day you joined the police academy. Back then….”
Jane smiled. She remembered it too. More than anything, she remembered the mistakes she’d made as a new police recruit. “I was barely twenty-two. I did a lot of stupid things.”
“You looked me straight in the eye and said you wanted to be a homicide detective. I laughed at you back then. Who knew you’d come this far?”
Jane fought a wave of sentimentality. She was supposed to be level-headed. She was a cop and a detective. Emotions had no place in her vocabulary. “It’s been twenty years,” she said in a low voice. “A lot has changed.”
“So, why did you want to become a detective?” he asked. Jane looked up at him. “You said you’d tell me why you became a detective once you got into my department. I never asked you.”
“Oh, it was a silly bet,” Jane said, stifling a sob with a chuckle. Her job was everything to her. It was her existence, her identity and her passion. For as long as she could remember, she’d been a detective. She’d never envied other people who got holidays or had fixed schedules because all she wanted was to be a detective. She had never imagined a future beyond that. She had always thought she’d retire just like the rest of them.
Being a detective was nothing like the movies. She had to watch suspects for hours without getting a wink of sleep. She always had to be ready for the worst. The smell of rotting corpses, blood and the likes had become usual. No matter how much coffee she drank, it was never enough. She thought her juvenile sense of excitement would fade away in a few years, but it never did. Every time she got a call, it only made her more eager to unravel another truth. It was what made her heart beat.
But it had stopped Charlie’s. Like a bullet, the painful realization pierced through her heart. She couldn’t go on after what had happened. Guilt tore her apart every day. Her mental condition was rapidly worsening. She needed to get away from her work. She needed to take time off before anyone found out that she couldn’t think clearly anymore. She owned at least that much to the job she loved.
“Jane, are you all right?” Mark asked.
“Uh…yes,” she said, blinking her tears away. She stood at attention with her arms clutched behind her back.
“So…? Why did you become a detective?” At this point, a tear almost escaped her eyes. Hastily brushing it away, she turned to Mark. “It’s silly. Some guy at university said girls couldn’t be detectives. I wanted to prove him wrong.”
Mark smiled. He stood up. “That’s just like you- always a fighter,” he said. Jane wiped a tear from the corner of her eyes.
“I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m really sorry, Mark.” Jane inhaled forcefully, trying to suck in the tears that were at the edge of her eyelashes.
“Jane, can I ask you why you decided to leave?” he asked.
At this point, Jane was sure her eyes were red and there was no hiding the emotion that was breaking her heart.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to-”
“Charlie,” Jane barely managed to get the words out. “He died.”
“I heard. I’m really sorry.” Mark said.
“I can’t go on….” Jane said. “Everything I do, everything I see reminds me of him. Some days, I can’t wake up and face the daylight. When I’m working, I think about all the ways in which I failed-” She stopped abruptly and took a breath. She couldn’t go on without breaking down. “I hope you understand.”
Mark nodded, empathetically. “We’ve been colleagues for so long….I never thought there would be a day when we said goodbye. I’m getting old.”
Jane smiled. Mark stood up and walked towards Jane.
He held his hand out. Jane shook it. “It was a pleasure to know you, Detective Grey.”
“Thank you, Mark. The pleasure was mine.” Jane heard how distant and wistful her voice sounded.
Her career as a detective vanished like the droplets of condensed steam on the mirror.
At 7:30 p.m., Jane stepped out of the dining hall onto the damp grass, heading back to her room for a short rest. It was drizzling. The temperature was higher than last night. Jane swiped the card key and walked into the dormitory. She stretched and stifled a yawn with her palm. The corridor was quiet and dark. The environmentally friendly light switched on as she navigated the corridor.
When she reached the third floor, she saw that Mr. Greene’s room was open. Jane’s feet hovered outside the room. Her eyes traveled the breadth of the corridor, searching for any trace of Detective Myers. Quiet steps thudded on the floor. She stopped outside Mr. Greene’s. The door was locked.
It opened suddenly. Detective Myers walked out, colliding with her. Jane caught herself before she crashed to the floor. She got to her knees and faced Detective Myers, whose body hovered over her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Jane held the wall for support as she stood up. “What are you doing here at night?”
“I’m doing my job,” he said. Jane nodded and backed away. Her eyes met his, locking them in an intense gaze.
Detective Myers held his hand up. He held a piece of paper.
“What is that?” she asked.
He shoved the piece of paper into this pocket.
“There’s been an interesting development,” he said.
“What kind of development?” Jane scrunched her nose.
“An interesting one. But, I’m sure it isn’t something that interest you anymore,” Detective Myers said, turning away. He reached for the door handle and shut the door. Jane’s eyes moved towards it. “How’s your new job?”
“Good…” Jane’s eyes were fixed on his hands, which he’d buried in his pockets.
“I think I should switch to teaching too. This job is getting tedious,” he asked, pulling his hand out of his pocket. His intense expression changed to a gentler one.
“I wouldn’t say that when you’ve got your hands full,” Jane said. “Didn’t you just find something interesting?”
“This is the most exciting thing we’ve had in Tenterden in…forever,” Detective Myers said.
“But you don’t like it here?”
“I’m a city guy. What am I supposed to do in a village?”
“Chase chickens and find pigs,” Jane said. Detective Myers smiled.
“If this were a movie,” he said. He took a step closer to Jane. Suddenly, the silence in the doorway overwhelmed her. “Well, I should get going. I have to be on time to
eat Mrs. Abbington’s potato poppers. It’s the most decent thing she makes.”
“Who is Mrs. Abbington?”
“She owns the pub down from where I live.”
She couldn’t believe she was making polite conversation with Gary Myers. They had been in a relationship once—one that had ended too soon. She didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but she could never be too sure. Feelings may become memories but memories always remained. Their past connected them. She took a deep breath. Gary knew nothing about Charlie’s death. He’d been in Exeter when it had happened. By the time he’d returned, she’d quit.
It was his own fault for leaving without every saying goodbye. Especially when they were supposed to be in a relationship.
“Do you remember how it all started?” she found herself asking. Gary turned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
But, the images were already forming in her mind. Gary’s marginally slimmer, more youthful form lit up the reel of her memory. She remembered the striking navy blue coat and the scent of cigarettes on him six years ago on that night. The team had decided to go down to the pub for a drink after a long day. At that point, she was ten years into her career as a detective and they’d pulled many all-nighters trying to track down a murderer. Mark decided that they all needed a drink so they had planned to meet.
It was the year 2000 and Spice Girls’ Viva Forever was playing in the background, reminding her of an era gone by- both in music and in her own life. The pub was packed in the evening. Jane could feel the beer slide down her throat but she couldn’t taste it. The bitter taste of her recent divorce lingered in her tongue. A long, uncertain future lay before her eyes and she didn’t know where to start. With every line of the lyric, she remembered the first time she and Ben had met. He’d been a barrister, defending his client in a criminal case and she, a witness.
She turned her eyes to the televisions screen that broadcast yet another soccer match. The images were slightly blurry.
“Somebody’s having a good time,” It was Gary’s raspy voice. Jane turned. Gary Myers, sat next to her. She saw him unbuttoning his navy coat. He wore a charcoal sweater underneath which strangely matched his eyes. Jane looked the two long glasses, empty. Had she drank all that?
“You’re here…” her voice was groggy.
“Honestly, I just wanted to go home and sleep but I couldn’t leave you alone.” He said, his voice sounding flirtatious. But again, this was Gary Myers and he flirted with every woman.
The bartender slid a mug of beer to Gary. Gary sipped the beer silently, his eyes moving towards the TV screen.
They talked for a few minutes, during which she managed to ingest a lot more alcohol. She couldn’t remember what they spoke about because all that time, she was thinking about her life with Ben.
None of her colleagues had shown up. Mark had decided to go home and trade their night of celebration for a night of sleep. But Jane didn’t want to go. Nothing but the fragments of her empty life awaited her at home. Ben was at his father’s tonight and she didn’t have the courage to face Ben. When she looked at her glass, she realized that she had drunk six glasses of hard liquor and now, everything around her was beginning to blur. She held onto the edge of the table for support, trying to steady herself.
“Are you all right, Jane?”
She turned and saw Gary, his penetrating grey eyes boring into her soul. Their eyes met and she felt like he understood.
In him, she saw hope. A night of escapism. The disheveled brown hair and hint of a salt and pepper beard that she hadn’t noticed suddenly made her hormones react. No wonder women found Gary Myers attractive. If she were herself, she’d have shaken herself out of it but she was already too far into this path.
“Jane? Should we leave?”
Even his raspy voice had a tinge to it. How long had it been since she and Ben had shared any kind of intimacy? For the last six months, they’d been dodging each other. There was nothing left for her to say. They both knew that they’d marriage had gradually fallen apart while they were busy making their lives work. But, she felt wronged. Today, of all days, she craved that warmth and intimacy. And, here her opportunity was, in human form.
He began to move. She leaned in closer and held onto him. He turned, his eyes lit with surprise. Her arms wrapped around him, absorbing all the warmth he had to offer, as his body filled hers. And, she melted. Her mind zoned out, her eyes closed and her lips met his. The sounds of football fans cheering in the background never made it to her ears. Her kiss grew hungrier, more needing, more demanding.
It took him a moment to react but he kissed her back, with all the intensity she needed to numb her pain. He held her tighter, answering her with a hunger of equal measure. She remembered the faint scent of alcohol coupled with cigarette and Old Spice. The taste of his tongue, flicking against hers, filled her hungry soul. One night. That’s all she needed. One night with Gary.
She pulled back and their eyes met. He wanted more and so did she.
“Let’s get out of here.” She said. And the rest was history.
“I need to get going.” Gary said, putting a halt to her flashback.
“Huh? Yeah…”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
As Detective Myers disappeared down the hallway, she continued to stare at him.
“Good night, Gary.” She called out.
“Good night, Jane.” He said, without turning.
She saw him walk away. Jane stood outside Mr. Greene’s locked room, tape covering the door.
She absently and walked into her room. Her eyes fell on the pile of books she had forgotten to sort. With a sigh, she closed the door and began arranging the books.
April 13, 2002
The thirteenth—what an appropriate day for a funeral. The constant drizzle amplified the gloom that rang in the atmosphere. In the damp green grass stood a row of people clad in black. The surroundings were a mix of grey graves and irises. All of a sudden, her mind was filled with the image of a grey grave, and she read the words carved into it:
“Charlie Grey.”
Images of the sinking sun, the darkness and Ben’s words played simultaneously in her mind. She looked at the long row of shadows, all dressed in black. Her hands felt the air for something to hold on to. And to think her therapist had thought a new setting would do her good.
Jane turned to Mr. Greene’s grave. As the priest read the prayers, Jane wondered if Charlie’s funeral had been the same. An involuntary tear escaped her eyes. Detective Myers, who was standing next to her, looked at her. Jane brushed the tear away and looked straight ahead. Mr. McEwan, Mrs. Wolverhampton, Mrs. Maeda and the rest of the teachers were there. Oliver stood in the back row, his head low.
Across from her stood a new face—a man wearing a black suit, with light blond hair that was fading into white, a sharp jawline, a bulging waistline and deep-set eyes. Jane immediately identified him as Brian Greene. His eyes were downcast. He wore a plain golden band on his left hand. He was married. She felt Gary’s fingers squeezing hers. She turned to him and gave a nod. He let go.
As the faintest hint of sunlight emerged, Jane saw the hard lines and age marks that were etched on Brian’s face. His dark brown eyes were misty and tired. He’d arrived earlier that morning for his brother’s funeral. His hands were clasped together in front of him as he solemnly witnessed the lid of the coffin being slid closed. The gruesome sight of his brother’s discolored body was hidden forever.
At 10:30 a.m., after an hour and a half of prayers, the casket was lowered. Damp soil was tossed on top of the dark, polished coffin.
The ceremony ended. The row of black figures began to dissipate. One by one, the teachers left. The gravestone was erected and the priest marked the end of the funeral.
The teachers collected around the gravestone, paying their last respects to Mr. Greene as the day grew deeper and greyer. Detective Mye
rs and Brian Greene stood to one side of the grave, whispering to each other. Jane moved towards them, straining her ears to hear what they were saying.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gary began. Brian Greene was trying to hold his tears back.
“It was so sudden. How…how did this happen?” he asked, his face muscles tensing.
“We don’t know yet. The police are looking into that. I need you to come down to the police station later today. There are a few papers to sign.”
“You said you found something?” Brian Greene said.
“As a matter of fact, we did,” Detective Myers said. He began walking, leading Brian further away.
“What is it?” Brian asked, his brow furrowing.
“We found a note in his bedroom,” Detective Myers said.
“What kind of note?”
“A suicide note.”
“What?”
“And that’s not all we found,” Detective Myers said. “He’s been on medication for depression.”
Brian Greene’s eyes enlarged. “Who told you that?”
“We found pills in his bedroom. They’d been used.”
“Prescription?”
“Didn’t find any.”
“That is strange….I ever thought Herbert-”
“So you didn’t know about this?”
“No. This is all…wow…” Brian covered his face with his hands.
“Though it appears to a clear case of murder, there may have been a suicidal intent.”
Brian Greene listened as Detective Myers went on. “He must’ve have been having issues at the time of his death. It would be helpful if we could get more information on his mental state towards the end of his life.”
“Did he say why he…ummm…did what he did?” Mr. Brian Greene asked.
“We found something that resembled a suicide note,” Gary Myers said. “However, its significance remains unknown. Do you think he had any regrets?”
