A Killer Among Us

by Rhys Stalba-Smith

  Charlie allowed himself to be pushed, the feelings of inadequacy being kept aside by curiosity. He watched the people around him. He couldn’t help but notice that all the people were different to him. He guessed people with rehabilitations came in all shapes and sizes, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  They passed through a double door, down a long hallway with more people being removed from the building. Some shuffling along. They came into a large open area, looked like a cafeteria, then exited into another hallway. Long and with people moving quickly. Through big double doors. Now outside. Lots of people milling about. Lots of them in wheelchairs too. Charlie had that feeling again, noticing something. For a rehab clinic there sure were a lot of old people. He only saw people that seemed at the end of their life, not at the end of their ability.

  Percy swung him wide and they took a big birth of the workers, a few doctors. The doctors looked angry. Pissed off that someone had made such a mistake.

  So what happened? Charlie asked. Someone lit a fire in the kitchen?

  No, an accident, Percy said. A grease trap caught fire. But it’s hard to put out without the right tools. But that’s not it. The clinic here is a bit outdated. The board’ve been working as much as they can to update and renovate, but each year they have to decide what gets done in what priority. Unfortunately this year the oxygen tanks weren’t moved. The oxygen tanks however, are right behind the kitchen. Which is also near the gardner’s shed. And the bloody idiot had his fertiliser delivered early.

  Ahhh, Charlie said. Like pouring petrol on a match.

  Exactly, Percy said. He wheeled Percy to a group of people. Went over to a lady with a check board and told her his name. You’re just gonna sit here, okay chief? I’ll be back in a bit, still gotta get people out, Percy said. But like I said, probably within the hour you’ll be back in your room. Just in time for lunch.

  Charlie nodded his understanding, watched as Percy headed off, then began looking around. The group he was in now, overall was younger, but he couldn’t help but notice something else. They were younger, but seemed somehow more vacant. The looks of confusion and vapidness not missing him. He wondered why Percy had put him with this group. Probably something to do with group allocation, he thought to himself. He remembered when he was a psychiatrist, at the clinic or hospital, they held people according to their illness. Their grouping dictated everything. Care, procedure, what the patient was allowed to do and not do. Signs like this, grouping them in a way was old hat, the new school opting for a more inclusive environment. But he knew in aged care facilities this often wasn’t the case.

  Charlie’s mind went blank then. Realisation flashing at him like a blinding light. He looked around. Saw the people. Saw the staff. Saw the patients. His heart quickened. He looked around and saw Percy headed back to the building. Panic. This wasn’t a rehab clinic at all. He was in aged care. He was here because of his brain. Because of the accident. Because his medication was about to be increased. Which meant—

  He called out to Percy. The lady behind him saying something along the lines of calm down. Percy turned.

  The blinding light he’d been imagining did happen then. A noise came with it too. A loud crack that hit him in the stomach and would’ve pushed him backwards had his brake not been on.

  The oxygen tanks behind the kitchen had exploded. The fireball burned into Charlie’s eyes. Screams began everywhere around him. Shouting and yelling. He looked at the building and saw the flames consuming the building. Lighting up like a giant beacon. People running out of the building on fire. Rolling on the ground, trying to put themselves out. Charlie saw the body of Percy, still on the ground, smouldering away.

  Charlie looked around, trying to find someone to tell. They had to know that Percy was on fire. He had to tell someone. He had to let someone know in all this chaos that Percy—But his world turned grey.

  He was being wheel backwards by someone he couldn’t see. He called out but the bag on his head tightened, stopping his call and choking him until he began coughing. He was moving backwards at an incredible rate. The wheels bumping and lifting. His body jarring. He could still hear the screaming and yelling, the dying and the living. He realised he was still calling out as well.

  They came to a stop. Charlie was turned around. Another shape coming at him. Lifting him up and throwing into the back of a vehicle. He landed with a crash on a metal surface. He yelled in pain. Began crawling on his arms, the bag slightly getting out of his vision. He could see he was in the back of a vehicle. A truck. A truck he’d seen before. The gardner’s truck. The gardner he used to watch. The gardner that was in fact a girl.

  After all this time Charlie Gardner, I’ve finally got you, someone said. Then the bag was jammed back on his head. Something heavy hit him. He turned groggy. Could no longer call out. His tongue stupid. He was jostled about. Felt tape wrapping around him. Then the something heavy hit him again. Then Charlie drifted away.

  PERSECUTOR

  V

  PERSECUTOR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  So what did this mugger look like? Davidson asked. He was leaning on the arm rest of his chair. Notepad in front of him. Pen lay unused.

  I didn’t see him, Charlie said. Like I said before, I was walking and got attacked from behind.

  And that’s how your face got bloodied?

  No. I was attacked from behind, then hit in the face. I don’t remember much else, I just blacked out soon after.

  Davidson was nodding, picked up the pen and wrote down a few lines. There was a cup of coffee by Davidson’s side, he’d brought one in for himself. Not for Charlie. Right right. So being attacked from behind. Then your face. What about the hands? You said they had a knife?

  Yeah. Well I mean, it was my leg. Cause I fell down and that’s when I got hit the face. But I put my hand up.

  So they came at your face with a knife? That’s pretty lucky, Davidson said. He was playing with Charlie. Mind if I have a look at your knees, or get someone to?

  Charlie’s eyes went wide. He stuttered.

  It’s alright, Davidson said. He smiled then. I trust you Charlie Gardner. Probably one of the most trustworthy guys I’ve ever met really. Turning your life around. Working hard for your family. Course you seem to have a bit of bad luck dog following you. That poor girl. Finding a body not long back. Now getting mugged. Don’t think you can type with hands like that. Seems someone’s got it out for you.

  Charlie laughed uncomfortably. It feels that way.

  So then, kicked down, face attacked, hands cut with a knife, then what happened? You woke up in the alley? Do you remember which, per chance?

  No, sorry. It’s all a bit blurry.

  That’s okay, Davidson made a note. Maybe a bit of concussion. You gonna go to the hospital?

  I, I dunno, Charlie said.

  Davidson noted the answer. And what time do you think this happened? When did you leave Wok, Stock, and Two Steamed Buns? Davidson’s pen poised.

  I don’t know, Charlie said. It was after work, probably there for an hour or so. I guess eightish.

  Eightish. Davidson wrote it down. And how was it?

  How was what?

  The steamed buns? I’ve been to that place heaps of times, great food, open late, walking distance from the station here. One of the best places on Gouger. I know Nguyen real well too. Loves West End beer for some reason.

  Oh, they were great. Really liked ‘em. Charlie felt his footing coming loose, he had to stick to the easier parts of his story. He couldn’t promise anything that he didn’t know. Yeah real tasty.

  I prefer the beef ones, in my opinion, Davidson said. He’s known for the chicken buns, but I prefer beef. Maybe it’s an animal thing. Just don’t trust chickens, ya know? Flighty, running around, pecking at shit, eating shit.

  I’ll take your word for it, Charlie replied.

  Mmm, Davidson put his pen down. Sat back. Course you would’ve tried both anyway last night. Part of the
job.

  It is, Charlie agreed.

  Davidson smiled, drank his coffee. Want a smoke?

  No thank you, Charlie said. He could remember the last time he’d smoked with Davidson all too clearly.

  Sure? Alright. He took his packet out and lit up. Took a long drag. You know I’ve thought about it too.

  What do you mean? Charlie asked.

  It’s just so easy for men, ya know? Well, both sexes. Both me and my wife really. Davidson crossed his hands, letting the cigarette hang in his mouth, rolling his thumbs. Wife’s home alone all day, I’m away all day. Barely see each other in the passing. Course I see plenty of women while I’m out and about too. Real easy to have an affair.

  What? Charlie spluttered, but Davidson just smiled.

  Please Charlie. You’re either having an affair and got mugged, or you were down at the rave in the Port.

  I dunno what you’re talking about, Charlie said. Legitimately not understanding the first part of Davidson’s accusations.

  Charlie, I know you weren’t at Nguyen’s. Wanna know how? Cause I was there, with Roger. He did the review. You didn’t turn up so Nguyen called him. So if you weren’t there, you were somewhere else. And to be honest, Davidson regarded Charlie now with skeptical eyes. I dunno if you got it in ya to be a killer at a rave. But I can see you dippin your stick in another pot.

  Charlie was speechless. Surely Davidson wasn’t this stupid? Giving him an answer, an alibi almost—

  Of course, you might not be the killer, but maybe you know them. Him, I believe you said. I mean, on that, Davidson took another notepad from his pocket. Flipped through it. Funny though about the rave I mention, the weirdest thing. I’ve got a testimony of a man here who was at the rave. Claims he saw that Gardner dude having a bad trip. He paused, looked at Charlie for a while. But who can trust him, he was off his chops on ecstasy and everything else. His piss was neon green. Davidson laughed. Now stood, adjusting his shoulders and stretching, wrapping his coat about him. So what story is it Charlie Gardner?

  Charlie looked away. What would he say? What was better, worse? Did he let this man think him a cheater? That was easy. The answer given to him, but would it find its way back to Eve? What would Roger have told Carl already?

  I’m, Charlie began. Staring at the table, mind whirring. A flicker on his right. I am, he started again. Another flicker in his vision, the other side. He closed his eyes and raised his head. I am having an affair, he said. Opened his eyes to Davidson.

  Sarah stood behind him in the shadows. No older than the day she died. Charlie gasped, closed his eyes.

  That’s what I thought, Davidson said. He threw Charlie’s wallet and keys to him. I won’t ask you where you’re dipping your stick. Piece of shit like you probably has a different one each week. I’m sure your wife suspects the same. Projection and all that shit at your, why you were so angry at her at the party. You’re doing it too.

  Charlie said nothing, staring at Sarah. She was unsmiling, staring just about his head.

  Now get the fuck outta here, Davidson said. You know, I said I’d thought about it, but I’d never cheat on my wife. Whatever we are in this shitty world, we are. We’re a team. You on the other hand are a low level, he stopped himself. Best thing happening to you was fucking up, huh? Allows you to do whatever you want now.

  Charlie stood from the table. Technically he’d not been arrested, technically he could’ve left anytime. But it would’ve been worse, seemed worse, if he hadn’t played along. He had bigger things to think of. Had to think of his family. If this misdirected the police, protected him and his family from Ethan, then so be it.

  Davidson opened the door. Allowing Charlie to leave. Charlie walked past him, feeling the air thick in his lungs. Disbelief in the fact that he was walking out without any issues.

  Hey Gardner, Davidson said. Real quick, where were the cheshire cat’s eyes?

  Charlie’s eyes darted to Davidson’s chest reflexively, remembering the girl from the warehouse rave. The kiss…

  That’s what I thought, Davidson said. Be careful Charlie Gardner. You’re memorable. Soon you’ll slip up. Make a real problem for yourself then. At that Davidson closed the door and went back to the table, got his coffee, Charlie watching through the window.

  Charlie turned and left without saying anything. The confidence he thought he’d had quickly deflating. His mind running. He had more balls in the air than he could realise. Sarah back. Shit shit shit. What was happening? He had to calm down, figure things out. He had to get a grip. He had to breath. His hands clasping and clenching, the blood crusting and pumping out. He let himself out of the visitors door. Started making his way to work. He had to set it all straight. He had to stop Ethan before anything worse happened. He had to watch his back. Every step he took was being watched. Everything he did had a double meaning. He was being manipulated and persecuted, he had to get in front. He had to get ahead. He was losing it. Losing everything again. He had to get a catch on it. He had to—

  His pocket began rumbling. The phone ringing. He answered. Was congratulated. Then the phone went dead.

  When Charlie entered the office it was pandemonium. Every journalist he could see was on the phones, even the assistants were taking calls. Twenty bodies, Charlie heard someone say. All Stacey was doing at reception was answering and putting calls on hold.

  This is crazy, Charlie said.

  Non stop since I got in at six, she replied. Carl called me late last night. Shit has hit the fan and people are freaking out.

  Charlie was looking around. It was chaos, pure fear. How and where had twenty bodies come from? Statements from people at the rave had already begun circulating on the television. Each paper had been working against the other to get the first release.

  What happened to you anyway? You look all kinds of pathetic, Stacey said.

  Thank you, Charlie replied. He stuck his hands in his pocket.

  Either way Carl and Roger want to see you. They’re not happy. She looked at his pockets, trying to glimpse his hands. Then his face again. Tip is you been naughty, she said.

  Charlie smiled sarcastically at her and walked off, making his way across the floor. There was a tv in the corner blaring out the news channel, voices echoing the same stories in the room. Except that one thing kept jumping out at him, his own name.

  Charlie Gardner, thé fallen psychologist … the rave in the Port had a special VIP among them, what does this mean? … Whether he’s involved or not I dunno, but you know what I do know? Ten years ago he was responsible for three women’s deaths … multiple witnesses now are coming forward … maybe it is coincidence? Maybe it isn’t? But the PK Killer and Charlie Gardner are linked. How many times is this guy gonna be found at the scene …

  This was why Davidson had picked Charlie up. He knew this was going to happen. He knew—that was why Roger—Eve.

  Charlie had the urge to turn around and go home. To call Eve and make sure she was okay. To get away from all this crap and get out. Not again. Not again. Not again. God he hoped Eve hadn’t turned the tv on. He hoped the girls weren’t watching anything. Even then, if it was like last time there would be all the news out the front of his house.

  Charlie stopped walking, realised there was a quiet in the room. People staring at him now instead of answering calls. The tv continued in the background and answered Charlie’s fears.

  His house on the screen. Eve yelling at them to leave her alone. A taxi arriving, pushing through the mob. Eve pushing Harper out through the crowd, Rachel by her side. The cameras flashing non-stop. Journalists yelling. Gary came in off camera and pushed a path through. They made it to the taxi and got inside. It drove away out of shot.

  Gardner!

  Charlie turned to the sound of his name being called. Carl at his office door, beckoning to follow. Roger inside watching through the glass. Charlie crossed the room quickly, entered the office and closed the door.

  Carl was on the phone, standing and watch
ing the offices. Yes, yes that’s right Andre. You too. We’re going a different angle here, but it won’t be a problem. Alright. Yep, catch you later. He hung up. Charlie Gardner, he said, sitting down. The infamous—

  Look Carl, there’s an explanation for all this.

  I’m sure there is, he answered. So let’s hear it. He looked to Roger with a smile.

  I, Charlie said but stopped. Look—

  You chose to party than do your review, Roger said. We know.

  But it’s more than that, Charlie said.

  Yeah, Carl gestured at Charlie. What’s with the hands and face, did it happen moving those twenty bodies?

  You know I didn’t do that. When would I have time?

  But do I? Carl replied. I don’t know you Charlie. I know what you’ve done. But I don’t know you. For all we know you are the PK Killer. Which, if you are is pretty neat. I don’t think anyone would suspect someone so close to be the man, but then again, the truth is always uncanny. Never what you expect. You said you had a funny feeling about him, didn’t you Roger?

  That I did, Roger said. Just how he was.

  Charlie was speechless. I’ve barely met you, he said. What about Roger? He barely works, spends his time getting drunk instead of doing his job, pays detectives for leads—

  And how, could you tell me, do you know that? Carl said. Roger was smiling.

  Charlie looked between the two. You gotta be kidding me?

  Charlie, Carl said, standing up. Given recent events, your current inability to work, gesturing at Charlie’s hands. We at the Adelaide Courier believe it best to let you go. Of course our decision has also been influenced by the current media allegations. We will be investigating privately on our end, but nevertheless, effective immediately is your termination. You’ll be paid another months salary—