Sebastian Cork: Forget Me Not

by Neal Davies

  “There’s nothing to thank me for; in fact I need to thank you for breathing life back into a lost soul. But enough of this, can I get you a drink?” “No I’m good thanks Sebastian; I had dinner at the local before I came here and I think another drink may put me over the limit.” Sebastian gestures with his hand for Tony to take a seat.

  “Well let’s get down to it shall we?

  Chapter 18

  SEBASTIAN TELLS TONY THE WHOLE STORY

  Tony relaxes into the armchair and looks up at Sebastian, “Aren’t you going to take a seat?” Sebastian takes a mouthful of bourbon and places the glass on the mantelpiece.

  “No Tony, I think I’ll stand. There’s a lot to say and if I sit down I’m going to relax and lose track. Now where do I start?” Tony gets fidgety like a child awaiting his share of the cake.

  “Well for a start you can tell me who murdered my brother!” Sebastian bites his top lip, looks at Tony in a serious manner and then drops his bombshell.

  “You Tony, it was you! And you also played a part in the demise of your cousin, Sam.” Tony pulls his head back and looks at Sebastian in astonishment. He begins to laugh nervously until he sees Sebastian is unmoved.

  His ashen face becomes solemn, “I’m sorry Sebastian. If that’s an attempt at humour; it isn’t a good one. You probably knew I didn’t give a shit when I heard my cousin had topped himself. But Frank was my brother and he is dead Sebastian. Not funny at all!”

  Sebastian takes another sip of his bourbon, nonchalantly places it back on the mantel and declares, “You’re quite right Tony this whole thing shouldn’t be made a mockery of. And I was far from joking when I said you killed your brother.” Tony places both hands on the arms of his chair and presses down in an effort to stand,

  “Ok I’ve heard enough I’m leaving. What is this? Some sort of revenge because I lost it at the shelter? Look! Don’t even bother answering. I don’t know what you’re on but I’ve got enough shit in my life without this!”

  Tony is now on his feet and ready to go. Sebastian stands there as if his leaving wouldn’t bother him at all. “You’re welcome to leave Tony. Or you can sit and listen to what I have to say, before I present the proof I have to the police.” Tony’s curiosity gets the better of him and he eases himself back into his seat.

  “Actually why not? I’ve got nothing to worry about, and you’ve got nothing at all. Go ahead, Mr Smart Arse!”

  Sebastian stares straight into Tony’s eyes and feels fully in control as he begins to tell him what he knows. “Before I explain how I know that you murdered your brother and cousin, we need to understand what led me to your involvement in the first place. When I was told that the money from Frank’s trust fund had disappeared into your Aunt Gina’s account, I had my wife do some checking and found out that Gina was a very wealthy lady thanks to your uncle’s legacy and the amount that was placed into her account wouldn’t have been worth her while going to jail over. I confronted her anyway and it was easy to see from her body-language that she was telling the truth when she told me she had no idea that the money was there. Further investigations showed she isn’t the smartest person when it comes to bookwork and she requires an accountant to take care of her business transactions. So I ask you, how could someone of her minimal financial capabilities, be able to embezzle money from someone else’s account into her own. And what motive would she have to do so?

  After interviews with many of Frank’s friends and associates, I found them to be even less capable of this feat than Gina is. So it made sense that it would be someone who wanted to destroy her. The worst thing of all was my hesitation to see you as that someone. Knowing your past and your incredible knowledge in the field of IT, I later realised you had both motive and means. So this aroused my curiosity as to just how far you would go for revenge.

  There were quite a few contradictions of events that threw me off track; like thinking you cared enough about your brother to hire a private detective to find him and also that little stoush you had with Patrick at the shelter. But on the other hand, it also struck me as peculiar that three days prior your brother’s death, when your hired detective said he was on the verge of finding Frank, you gave him the day off. You had desperately searched for all those years to no avail and there you were about to be reunited with your only sibling and decide that Ben Coates needs a break. So I kept asking myself why you would do that, why? Then on his return Ben ironically finds Frank dead in his apartment. Now what would be the odds of that?” An evil smirk appears on Tony’s face.

  “I don’t know! What would be the odds of that?” Tony sneers. Sebastian looks at him, grins and says, “Very high. Yes, very high indeed.

  Now, let us revisit the night of the murder. Two people spotted a short stocky fellow scurrying away from the apartment. The first witness said he saw a guy running from the bottom of the stairwell wearing a black leather jacket with a scratch on the left shoulder. The other witness saw the killer leaving Frank’s apartment, only this time the suspect was wearing a brown jacket. This person also said they heard a strange pinging noise as the killer fled. Then on my way to work a few days ago, I stopped to get petrol and heard a pinging noise coming from the buckle of a leather jacket someone was wearing and I remembered where I had heard that noise before. It was on an extremely cold day when I distinctly recall you wearing a brown leather jacket into the session. And the reason I remembered was; the buckles were undone and every time you moved around in your seat I was distracted by the sound they were making. All the information I’d compiled was pointing to you as the killer.”

  Tony speaks confidently as though he is unconcerned by Sebastian’s evidence, but his fidgeting and rapid eye movement are telling another story, “Ok, you have two witnesses with two different contradicting statements. What does that prove?”

  “To be honest with you Tony, I presumed the witness upstairs from Frank’s apartment got it wrong and that the other guy; Gino Gambini, was guilty of Frank’s murder. Then I thought the two of you may have been in it together. But after we took Gino into custody, he told me he was on his way to apologise to Frank and was heading up the stairs when he heard a shot. Now Gino isn’t what you would call an upstanding, law- abiding citizen, so when he heard a gun being fired he panicked and ran. He just knew he had to be out of there before the police arrived. Gino had no idea it was Frank that had been shot. The noise of him running back down the stairs alerted the landlord and of course he saw the black jacket with the scratch as he was heading out the door.

  As you were coming down the stairs you heard the landlord yell out to Gino and you waited in the stairwell until he went back inside. Then you quietly snuck past his door without him hearing you.”

  Tony responds smugly, “Just a little far-fetched and hard to prove, don’t you think?” Sebastian is undeterred by Tony’s seemingly confident manner. After all his years in psychology, he knows how to draw out hidden insecurities and secrets better than most,

  “I agree it seems farfetched but not hard to prove when forensics, examine your jacket for gunpowder residue.

  It gives me great pains to imagine that you could do this sort of thing but it’s hard to argue with the two facts that kept going around in my head. Fact one: I realised an IT specialist of your calibre could find anyone, anywhere, at any time with the numerous resources available on the net these days, so why would you need a detective. Fact two: Having myself and Ben Coates on your team made you look like an innocent man. Knowing the crime and sleazy characters that live in and around Frank’s neighbourhood, who would suspect a devastated man doing all he could to locate his brother.

  I was also told of a simple sentence that had been overheard on the night of the murder, yet couldn’t make any sense of it, until I could clearly see your involvement in it all. One of the witnesses overheard the killer yelling out something in Italian which sounded like, “a bad motto.” It meant nothing in English but what about Italian? The word most like that is ‘abband
onato’, which is Italian for abandoned. Now there is a probable cause. You were angry at your brother for abandoning you. Once the deed was done, you needed an airtight alibi in case either your private investigator or I got curious and began to snoop around. You must have gone over and over the plan in your head till you thought there were no flaws, and trust me, I was amazed to the extent of the detail and how it was carried out.

  Your cousin Sam, who had molested Frank, went on to do the same to you and you made your mind up that he was going to be your next victim. You knew Sam had a history of drug abuse and attempted suicides since his facial scars had left him looking hideous. After hacking his computer you also knew he was engaging in child pornography, as you had found incriminating photos that would put any sexual predator to shame.” Tony placed his hands behind his head and sat there with a blank gaze. It looked as though he was lost in his own nothingness, which even sent a chill running down Sebastian’s spine. Sebastian continued wearily, “After an anonymous caller rang in to tell police they heard a gunshot and that there was something strange going on at Sam’s place, the station sent a squad car out to investigate. The two policemen found the place locked up. No one was answering the door so they thought they would try around the back. While walking up the side of the house they stopped at a window and spotted Sam’s limp body lying on the floor.

  As the house was in a very small street in a new estate, there were only four other houses apart from Sam’s there. Police interviews of the surrounding neighbours found two weren’t home that night, another was on holidays and the one that lived closest to his house is deaf. Sam wasn’t the type of person that made friends easily. So who would know about suspicious behaviour or a gunshot unless it wasn’t a suicide, but a murder? Again I was puzzled; forensics told me that the suicide note had not been forged and there had been no signs of him writing it under duress. They went on to say that normally they see signs of shakiness in the writing if he was being forced in any way. The other posing question was; if he was murdered, why would the killer want him found? So it made sense to me that whoever killed Sam, also killed Frank, as they were both shot with the same gun.

  Once forensics had finished their investigation they believed the probable cause was suicide and that Sam had actually murdered Frank. I decided to do a bit of probing myself. So I saw the coroner and he told me that Sam had tried to commit suicide several times in the past without success. He went on to tell me it had been many years ago and he could see no sign of recent attempts. Normally in my profession we see Sam’s unsuccessful attempts at suicide as a cry for help caused by emotional frustration, and, we have found most people that really want to suicide are normally successful. When I went to see Gina about getting a key to Sam’s house so I could take a look around, she was so keen to find Sam’s killer she didn’t hesitate to comply. However while going through her keys she found the one to Sam’s front door was missing and gave me the key to the back door.

  On the way to his house I stopped over to talk to an old colleague of mine; Andrew Keeny, a psychologist who had been working with Sam for the past five years. Andrew was in disbelief that he’d actually suicided, as he could see that Sam was on the road to recovery. It was becoming more and more clear to me that my doubts regarding the murder suicide theory were more than warranted.”

  Sebastian senses he needs to bring Tony back into the conversation to break any homicidal thoughts he may be having about him. “I guess you’re wondering how I knew about Sam being involved in child pornography?” Tony takes his hands from the back of his head and begins tapping his fingers on the chair, whilst beads of sweat begin to gather on his forehead.

  “Who cares? But you seem to be enjoying yourself, so go ahead.”

  Sebastian continues, “Well, while I was at Sam’s house I noticed one small speck of wet soil near the coffee table where Sam’s body had been lying. It had been raining the evening before Sam’s death and the killer had diligently wiped his feet on the outside mat, but a small speck must have clung to the heel of his shoe until his heel brushed the far side of the coffee table, dropping it into the shagpile. There were other marks from where the police had come through the window and walked to Sam’s body. As soon as they saw he was deceased, they withdrew through the front door, ensuring nothing was disturbed until forensics arrived, who of course wear covered shoes. Therefore no one with muddy feet could have possibly gone to the far side of the body, except the killer. While I was on my knees looking at the speck of mud, I spotted the corner of a piece of paper jammed behind one of the legs of the sofa, so I moved it and found this picture.” Sebastian pulls a crinkled, photocopied, pornographic photo from the inside of his suit jacket, shows Tony and then goes on to say, “This is how it went down Tony; you patiently stood outside the same window that the police spotted Sam’s body from. Your legs must have got tired and you squatted down to rest them, not realising you were leaving drag marks in the mud from your raincoat. It must have been so tiring to be standing there for all those hours, just peering in and waiting for Sam to go to bed. When he finally did, you opened the front door with the key you’d stolen from Gina.

  You knew that Sam loaded up with sleeping tablets of a night and there was no way he would hear you walking over his plush new carpet once you were inside. When you reached the coffee table, you scattered the pornographic photos over it and left a typed note that would have read something like this; ‘I have sent another copy of these photos to the police and they’ll arrive soon. Do the honourable thing for everyone’s sake.’ You then left the same gun you used to kill your brother on the coffee table. Upon Sam seeing the photos he knew his illegal activities would have repercussions and bring public humiliation to his family, especially his mother. He saw no other way out. The big bonus for you was Sam left a note saying he was sorry for what he’d done.

  Naturally, the police and forensics saw this as a letter of apology for Frank’s murder, but it was actually to do with the photos. What you didn’t see, was when Sam fell to the floor, his hand brushed the coffee table and one of the pictures autumn leafed under the sofa. Police never found it because it was hidden behind a leg. It was only by chance that I saw it. All night you waited, and when the deed was done you came in and burned the remaining pictures and the note that you had left for him. Being exhausted from your vigilant night watch and in your haste you didn’t take the time to count the photos. The police were a bit baffled by the burnt paper in the fire place and just assumed Sam may have been cold.

  All I need to do is get the chief to send his forensic team to your house with a search warrant and, even though you’re an expert in your field, I’m sure if they send their IT specialists in, they’ll find where you have hacked both Gina’s and Sam’s computer. If that’s not enough; there’s always the possibility of a key to the front door of Sam’s house or a shoe with traces of mud from his home on it. Let’s not forget your brown leather Jacket, which I’ve explained to you, will more than likely have gunpowder residue on it from the night you shot Frank. Once enough evidence is gathered and I take the stand to piece it all together for the jury, the verdict will be a foregone conclusion.” Sebastian has pushed Tony to the brink.

  He stands up and glares at Sebastian, “Have you finished now Mr High and Fucking Mighty! Are you done with your fucking melodramatic appraisal of events?”

  Still calm Sebastian glares back at Tony and replies, “Yes, I believe I Am done.”

  Chapter 19

  THE CONFESSION

  “Now it’s my fucking turn and you can stand there and listen! Pricks like you, who are born with silver spoons and have always, lived in your high and mighty ivory towers, you sit there and listen to what others tell you but you have no idea of the real tortures a person like me feels!

  You only know the shit you read in your wonderful little text books. It’s all about helping others for awhile, but then you get sick of their shit and it becomes all about the money. So don’t stand there on your
podium, judging me and thinking you are so cool because you feel you got the upper hand. You’re just a waste of fucking air space, who’s so bored with life you want to stick it up some poor bastard to make yourself a big man again!

  Yes, of course I killed Frank and set it up like that scum of the earth had done it! He abandoned me and left me to suffer at the hands of that wicked whore and her degenerate son. I hated him for every night that hideous, disfigured freak climbed into the bed next to me and made me stare at his face, telling me over and over how he was paying me back for what my brother had done to him and then raping me. I hated him for the beatings I took with the cord, and how I was reminded I was getting twice as fucking many because he wasn’t there to get his share. And you! You think you’re so fucking smart working it all out, but you’re not smart at all. You should have gone to the police before you came here, because without your testimony they only have circumstantial evidence that won’t stand up in court.

  My computer’s been wiped and even if they find mud on my shoe, I’ll just say I was visiting. And as far as the key goes, they’ll find it inside a jar at Gina’s house where I put it, so it’d look like she’d misplaced it. Now knowing how well I’d planned this fucking thing, it didn’t even occur to you that I’d be smart enough to get rid of my brown jacket? What sort of idiot are you Cork?

  You like to look at the facts! Well, here are some facts you can look at all you fucking like. At the moment the police don’t suspect anything and you have the only photo and testimony that can incriminate me. Here’s the last fact you’ll ever hear, as much as I really do admire your intellect, there’s no way known I can let you live.”