The Psychic, the Cop and the Killer

by Annette Morris

  "Get inside," John says urgently. "Quick. Get inside and lock the door." He pushes the door open and shoves me inside.

  Stumbling, I stagger as I trip over the threshold.

  John slams the door closed behind me. Something thumps hard against it. My fingers scramble to lock the door and I back slowly away, until I'm leaning against the far wall.

  A thump on the door rattles it in its frame. The walls seem to bounce.

  My eyes search for an escape. I am unsure if the door will hold. What will happen if they get in here? Will they try to kill me? I have no idea. I knew one thing though. There was no way I wanted to touch that detective again anytime soon. The one that had killed Trudi Whelan. I didn't ever want to see him again. He scared me senseless. The visions I received from him ... were still causing my stomach to churn in disgust.

  I look around the room for a window... another way of escaping. There is none. I'm trapped in this room, with cops pounding on the door and braying for my blood. The walls shudder again and again. The pounding on the door intensifies. Men are yelling. My legs give out and I slide effortlessly down the wall to sit on the floor. I cover my ears and hope that John can hold them off.

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  A loud boom, like a cannon sounds. I jump at the sound. Was that a gunshot? Did someone fire a gun? Was John hurt? I stand again, unsure what I should do. I listen carefully. Everything has stopped. A deep and utter quiet penetrates the walls. A voice suddenly bellows, "Enough!"

  I sag against the wall in relief. Finally someone has taken control.

  "You will all stop whatever you're doing or you will all be fired!"

  I hear someone yell out in protest.

  "I said enough," the voice bellows again. "You," he yells to someone. "Get out of here. Go home. See a lawyer."

  I hear loud yelling, someone arguing.

  "I don't give a shit," the guy yells. "Get the fuck out of here now."

  Something smashes. Things hit the wall. Then I hear the slam of a door. Then silence.

  "Now. The rest of you listen up. I will sort this out."

  Voices rise in anger again.

  "You are cops!" he yells over the top of them. "Act like it! You're not a lynching mob. If he has done the crime, then he will do the time. Give me some time to sort this out. Okay?"

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  "Now. Clean up this damn mess. Someone dump the trash. You lot... you sort out all this paperwork."

  Someone yells out in protest.

  "I don't give a shit! We are police officers. We follow the law. We have procedures. And by God .... we will follow them."

  Someone else yells again in protest.

  "She's a psychic," the voice bellows back. "She sees visions. I haven't even talked to her yet. Give me a break! I swear to God ... one more person says one word ... you'll all be on report. Now clean up this fucking mess. And get back to work. That's an order!"

  "Tom ... Charlie," the voice continued. "Dig out Trudi's file. Go through it again. Find me a damn reason to put that jerk-off behind bars."

  Another voice calls out in protest.

  "I don't fucking care Danny," he bellows. "You want to believe that piece of shit is innocent. Then you go stand with him. I've worked with this psychic before. And when she stands here and yells out Trudi's name and says he killed her ... then I fucking believe her! Now the rest of you... clean this place up."

  I hear sounds like desks being shoved around and glass being swept up.

  Then the voice comes nearer to the door. "John ... bring her to my office now."

  "Yes sir," John replied.

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  Chapter 5

  A knock comes on the door.

  I reach out to unlock the door and am surprised to see my hands shaking. I shouldn't be surprised though. I'd just been through a terrifying ordeal. I finally manage to unlock the door. John is standing there. His eyes roam over my face and body to ensure I am okay. "Are you okay?"

  I nod. "Yeah." My throat is still hoarse. It's painful to talk.

  "Come on. I have to take you in to see the Captain."

  I follow him as he leads me through the pit again. This time I stay closer to his back. I don't want a repeat of what happened before.

  I notice the room is jam packed with police officers. They are all working towards cleaning up the mess in the room. As I walk past, each group stops working and stare at me. By the time, we are halfway down the room, there is a complete and sudden silence. Some stare at me with hatred in their eyes. Some with confusion.

  John grabs my elbow and pulls me quicker through the area. The silence lingers and deepens.

  Trembling slightly, I walk as fast as I can.

  There are still obstacles in the way we are forced to go around, and that slows our pace. Feelings bombard me as I accidentally touch other cops as I move through. It is impossible not to touch them. The area is too small for me to avoid touching anyone. I tune them out though. I try not to let the visions in. To just let them go. I get glimpses but force them away. I've seen enough visions for a while. I don't want anymore.

  I look around the room instead. I see now the place is a shambles. Chairs are in pieces, lying on the floor like broken ragoffs. Desks are on their side. Computers and lamps lie smashed on the floor. Over it all are reams of paper strewn around like confetti. The room looks like a tornado hit it. I don't make eye contact with any of them. I just want to get out of this room.

  John ushers me through an open door and into a large office. The door closes behind me.

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  I close my eyes and sag in relief once we're inside the room. I hope there is a back door so I don't have to go through that gauntlet again. I open my eyes and look around the room, straightening up quickly when I realise we're not alone.

  A large man stands looming behind a wooden corner desk. If his size didn't tell me who he was, the authority I could sense in him would. This man was the one in charge. Here was the heart and soul of this place. It breathed in with him. Black eyes bored into mine. Even through his glasses I could feel him analysing me, measuring me to see if I'd fit into his world. He had huge shoulders and was also tall. He was well over six foot. In his late forties or fifties. But it was his eyes that grabbed you and wouldn't let go. It was his eyes that demanded and expected obedience. It was his eyes that now swept over me. He took in the red paint still covering me. He pointed to a couple of chairs and sat himself.

  John and I both walk over and sit facing him.

  His eyes don't blink as he stares at me, assessingly. "Caitlyn," he begins slowly. "It's good to see you again. I hear you've had an eventful morning."

  I nod at him. I do remember him now. We'd met briefly at the previous cold case I'd worked for them.

  "Can you tell me what happened out there?" He pointed outside in the direction of the pit.

  I take a breath before starting. "I became separated from John. The other cops blocked me in. I couldn't get out." I take a breath. "The detective ... sorry I don't know his name."

  "Travers. Detective Bill Travers," John bites out.

  I nod. "Detective Travers crowded me, called me names..."

  The Captain held up his hand to stop me. "I understand this is difficult for you... but I need the words Caitlyn. I need almost verbatim. What you can remember... what he said to you."

  I sighed and sat back against the seat. "Okay." I closed my eyes and thought back before starting again. "He started out by saying... well, who do we have here? Could this be our very own psychic? Then he asked... what are you doing here witch?" I shrug and continue. "I'm confused with what he's asking me and I reply, What? He replies... we don't want your kind here." I shrug again and continue, "I become angry and say... my kind? ... you mean you're sexist?... you don't like women here?"

  John makes a sound like he's strangling a laugh.

  I continue explaining. "The detective becom
es angry at that and replies... you little shit. I'm talking about you being a witch. I'm not talking about you being a woman. I reply to the detective ... so you don't like women then? You prefer men?"

  This time, John couldn't stop the laugh. He silenced it quick enough though. I thought I saw a half smile on the Captain's face, but wasn't sure.

  "After that remark, he stepped closer to me and said... you listen here, you little cunt. But he was interrupted by someone yelling and he didn't get to finish it." I glance down for a minute, then back up at the Captain. "I took the opportunity while we were standing close together to touch the detective. I grabbed his shirt and clenched my fingers in it." I shrugged again and explained, "When I touch someone, or their clothes I get visions," I explain to the Captain. "This time was no exception."

  "You got visions from touching the detective?" The Captain asked me.

  I nod. "Yes."

  "What did you see?"

  I take a breath, close my eyes and picture the visions again in my mind. "I saw the detective repeatedly punching someone inside a jail cell. Him hitting someone on the street. Him slashing someone with a knife. I see him knife someone in the stomach and run away. I see him inside a house, raping a woman. She's screaming for help. He puts his hand over her mouth to silence her and kills her. I see him kill ... others. I see him ... raping a young girl. She's screaming. He's raping her in the back seat of a police car. She's a child. Only a child." I stumble to a halt and take another breath, before continuing. "She's wearing a school uniform."

  I open my eyes and stare into the Captain's. "In the vision, she stares into my eyes," I hesitate and the Captain interrupts.

  "Tell me everything," he demands.

  I nod. Close my eyes again. "I see the pain... reflected in her eyes. She talks to me... " I stop talking and take a breath. I look up at him again. "I have to say ... that has never happened to me before. In any vision I get, I only ever see what has happened. I have never had a victim speak to me before."

  The Captain nods and motions for me to continue.

  I sigh. "I'm Trudi Whelan. She screams it to me... My name is Trudi Whelan." I take a breath and stop talking. I can't continue. My throat has closed over. Tears stream down my face.

  John grabs my hand and squeezes it. No-one speaks.

  The Captain clears his throat.

  I look up at him.

  The Captain has tears in his eyes also. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He looks away, takes a minute, then begins talking. "Trudi Whelan is a ten-year-old girl. She disappeared ... one day, she went to school, left in the afternoon after classes ... and nobody has seen her since. Her parents ring here every week, asking for updates. We've been searching round the clock for her. For clues. For something. To date, we've found nothing." He turns back towards me. "Then you come in here and tell me that one of my detectives raped and killed her."

  I stare at him while he's talking. There's nothing I can say or do to take away the pain he's feeling. I rub my forehead as a headache blooms and takes hold.

  "If what you say is true..." He raises his hand as if to stop me from talking... "then one of my detectives, a cop... is responsible for the rape and murder of a ten-year-old girl. That, apart from the devastation to the child or her family, will rebound for years. It will devastate the department. It will devastate every cop not just here but all cops everywhere." He takes a breath. "It's devastating for the force as a whole. We're dedicated to... we dedicate our lives to help... to protect the community... the children." He hesitates again. "This will have repercussions for a long time to come." He looks at me with those piercing eyes. "But I want justice for Trudi Whelan. Do you understand what I'm saying? I want you to be very certain Caitlyn. Very sure of what you saw."

  "I understand what you're saying Captain," I interrupt. "I wish I didn't have to tell you this. I don't want this outcome either." I took a breath in. "But I know what I saw. I can only tell you what I saw."

  He takes a breath himself before talking again. "Are you ever wrong Caitlyn?"

  I shake my head. "No. Never. Because I only tell people what I see. It's up to whoever I tell to analyse it. I only see visions. I only see events."

  "That's what I thought."

  "So." He leant forward, arms crossed on the desk. "Back to your vision. You said that Trudi Whelan had her school uniform on."

  I sat forward slightly and nodded in thought. "Yes." The Captain was analysing the visions. It was important to ensure I remembered the vision accurately.

  "You also said she was in the back of a police car. How do you know it was a police car?"

  I closed my eyes to remember. "The cage," I blurted. "There was a steel cage between the front and back seats. And ... " I concentrated on that section of the scene. Trying to bring forward the clues he needed. "There was sound ... like ... voices ... ah!" I remembered what it was I'd heard. "It was a radio. A police radio. Someone was talking on the radio in the background."

  The Captain nodded. "Okay. If he was in the police car, that gives us a timeline to start with. Do you have any idea where... Trudi is now?"

  Again, I closed my eyes and concentrated. I allowed my mind to flip through the vision again. "All I know is she's buried somewhere. That is her body... is buried somewhere. I can sense that, but no detail as to where."

  He nods. "Caitlyn... are you willing to work with us to find her body... and to lock this bastard up?"

  I nod. "Yes. Sir. I am." I would give anything to be able to lock that detective away. Especially for Trudi's rape and murder. Her eyes were still haunting me.

  The Captain turns his head and looks at John. "Detective. I'll arrange for the paperwork. You'll have to take her to your place. Both of you get cleaned up. Work on hunting up any more clues to nail this bastard down."

  I blinked in shock at his words. Why did he want me to go to John's place? "Um... Captain. I can go home to get cleaned up. My clothes are there anyway."

  The Captain shakes his head. "I'm sorry to tell you Caitlyn. You can't go home," he replies gently. "I've had reports there have been more attacks on your shop. The media have gotten hold of it and are camped outside your mother's house."

  Shock had me jerking in the chair. "What?" The media are camped outside the house? My first thought was for Anna. She'd be terrified.

  The Captain went on explaining. "Apparently the article in the paper stirred the media up. They went to your shop to interview you and found ... well ... the red paint thrown all over it. That has stirred them up even more. They want interviews and photos. They're not leaving... not for a while, anyway. It's safer at this stage for you to go to Detective Williams's house. Clean up there. I'll send the files there. You can both work this case from there. That way the media won't find you."

  "My daughter... Anna..." I asked with my heart in my mouth. Oh God! I hoped she was safe.

  "She's fine Caitlyn. She's home. I've rang and spoken to your mother. I've told her what's happened. She told me Anna was spending her time, with her nose up against the glass window watching the media. So they'll get some lovely close up shots of Anna's face and that's about it." He grinned at the words.

  I relax at his words. Anna was okay.

  "I've also sent two officers around to stand guard and to keep your family safe and to make sure the media stay back." He hesitates then says, "This case... Trudi Whelan... It takes priority now Caitlyn. We have to find her. We have to find the evidence to convict this bastard."

  I nod. I understand. I want to find the evidence too.

  "Just one thing before you go." He rummages around on his desk, until he locates a file and then pulls out a photo. He hands it over his desk to me.

  I know what's coming. I had a hunch he would want me to confirm my vision.

  I take the photo from him and stare down into Trudi Whelan's eyes. I jerk as I see the joy in her face. That joy had all been wiped away when I saw her in the vision. Without the pain reflecting, I saw her eyes were clear, so full o
f life and hope. It hurts me physically to see them like that and know they will never again show that joy and hope. In the photo, I notice she's wearing her school uniform. Her short brown hair, brown eyes and round face fill the photo. Her smile lights up. There is so much happiness and love in that young face. I hand the photo back to him. "Yes. That's her," I clear my throat to continue speaking. "She was so happy and alive in that photo. When I saw her in the vision she was..." I stopped talking. My fists clenched in my lap. They didn't need to know that.

  The Captain coughs and takes the photo back from me. "I'm sorry. I had to check."

  "I understand Captain," I reply quietly.

  John rises and helps me up. Which is a good thing because I think I have lost all feelings in my legs. "Come on. Let's go clean up."

  He props me up as best he can and hauls me out a different door so we don't need to go back through the pit again. I'm grateful for that. I'm not sure if I'm up to walking through that room again. The happy smiling face of Trudi tears at me, pulling me apart. The violence that was caused to her. It should never have happened. The way I last saw her... so scared and in so much pain... I doubt I will ever forget it.

  On the drive to John's house, neither of us talk.

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  Chapter 6

  John's house comes as a surprise. The house is a large one storey with a double garage attached. There are no close neighbours. I think I was expecting more of an apartment than an actual house. Standing in the lounge room now, my eyes widen as I take in the scene before me. "Oh wow!"

  "Oh!" John says. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting guests."

  My head swings slowly around to him. "So you like books?" I ask drily.

  He laughs at my words.

  My head swivels back again. My eyes simply can't take it all in. There are literally books stacked against every wall. There are books placed on top of each other on lounge chairs, the small tables, and the floor. The piles on the floor are almost seven feet high. There's barely a path left to walk down the hallway.