Milieu Dawn

by Malcolm Franks

Matt had lost count of the number of coffees he’d drank over the last few hours, as he impatiently paced the waiting area. Will had stayed with him, insisting he wouldn’t be able to settle until he knew Jenna was going to be okay.

  A sideways glance revealed two approaching white clothed figures, steadily narrowing their distance to him. The smaller of the two was pointing towards him and he recognised the nurse called Esther. The taller, authoritative looking woman he hadn’t seen before. The ebony skin made her face and hands stand out against the white background, her black hair pinned tautly to the scalp. Matt held his breath as the stern-faced women neared and he began to fear the worst. They were almost upon him when the tall woman stretched out a long thin hand, bedecked with even longer and thinner fingers.

  “My name is Sabrina Campbell,” she introduced, “from the Acquired Brain Injury Clinic.”

  “Brain injury?”

  Her facial muscles relaxed into a warm smile.

  “Don’t worry. Miss Douglas is going to be fine. We’ve had to do a bit of work but she should make a full recovery.”

  She did explain the nature of the injury and the measures taken to repair the wound; most of her words went straight over Matt’s head. All he could think about was Jenna and that he needed to see her.

  “She is a remarkable young woman,” said Campbell. “The absence of any obvious post trauma symptoms made our work much easier. She must have a very strong mind.”

  Matt glanced sideways to Will, who had remained seated. He was listening intently to what the tall woman was saying, blinking at Matt in acknowledgement without adding anything to the conversation.

  “Can we see her?” Matt asked.

  “For a short time only, she needs to rest. Esther will take you to the room but you must not stay for long. She needs plenty of rest.”

  “Thank you,” he said nudging Esther into motion.

  They had gone a few paces when some sort of sixth sense made Matt look behind. He noticed his companion remained in his seat.

  “Will, come on,” he said, “I want you to meet Jenna.”

  They crept quietly into the white room. Jenna’s eyes flickered half open and glanced towards the open door. Matt hurried over to the bed and gently grasped her hand.

  “Hi,” he said.

  The first thing to catch his attention was the bald patch around the wound. Several stitches were obvious to the naked eye, too many to count, deepening the feelings of guilt he was unable to shake off. She opened her mouth to speak when he pressed his finger softly against her lip.

  “No, don’t talk, rest. There’ll be plenty of opportunity for you to scold me once we get you out of here.”

  His smile was weak.

  “I’m so sorry, Jenna,” he said quietly.

  Matt had rehearsed a deep and meaningful apology. These were the only words he could muster. Her attempted smile of reassurance lacked any real energy.

  “I shouldn’t have driven off. It was unforgivable. You only stayed last night because I asked, so the least I could have done in return was fly you home to Vancouver personally.”

  The words did little to assuage his guilt.

  “I don’t understand what caused your injury. I will get to the bottom of it though, I promise. And I’ll make sure it never happens to anyone else.”

  Opening her lips to try and speak again, she stopped on noticing the figure standing behind him. Matt turned to see what she was looking at.

  “Jenna, I’d like you to meet the man who may well be responsible for saving your life today,” said Matt. “This is Will, Will ...”

  “Salmon,” said the man, “Will Salmon.”

  “I remember your face,” she managed to utter.

  Her eyes blinked back towards Matt.

  “Don’t say anymore,” interrupted Matt. “You have to rest. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

  Jenna’s gaze became anxious. He leant forward to stroke her brow when the door opened and Esther appeared through the opening.

  “Mr Durham, there are some people here who want to talk to you.”

  “People, what people? Tell them they’ll have to wait.”

  She approached him quickly and leaned over to whisper into his ear.

  “Police,” she said.

  Although surprised he shook his head vigorously.

  “I don’t care who they are, they can wait.”

  “They say it’s urgent,” said Esther, calmly.

  One curse followed another in his mind. Their presence couldn’t be ignored. Irritation would have been a poor choice of word to describe how he felt about leaving the room. He was much, much angrier than that. He forced a reassuring smile at the patient.

  “I won’t be long.”

  Jenna’s hand touched onto his forearm. The anxiety in her expression had deepened. He responded by leaning across to peck her cheek with his lips, in the hope this would provide some comfort. Again he felt her hand against his skin only this time her fingers dug into the flesh, as if she were trying to give him a message. He lowered his ear to her mouth.

  “Not the plane, a woman … hit me. She had dark hair and a star tattoo on her forearm.”

  Matt was stung into a temporary, stunned silence. At first he thought he had misheard the statement. Seconds drifted by as his mind sought to accept the unbelievable news. It seemed inconceivable to him that anyone in the world would want to harm Jenna. There wasn’t a purer soul on the planet. Now, his feelings of guilt had been replaced by both shock and horror.

  He gazed back at the worried frown resting on the pillow.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, and she blinked her eyes in confirmation.

  He had to think quickly. Jenna clearly needed some kind of protection, only there was the problem of law enforcement at his door. One deep exhalation of breath and he had decided.

  “I have to see some important people outside for a few minutes,” he told her. “Will is going to watch over you while I’m gone. You can trust him. Okay?”

  The pretty smile signalled her acceptance. Matt looked towards Will.

  “Stay with her, please.”

  The new man appeared happy to comply, intrigued by the exchange between the two.

  “What do you want?” asked Matt in the sharp tone he always reserved for officialdom.

  “I’m Detective Early, this is Detective Danbridge,” said the man holding up his identification badge.

  Matt scrutinised the name. Daniel Early, it read.

  “And yours?” Matt said to the woman.

  She pushed out a small hand to reveal her ID card; Marcia Danbridge, RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police).

  “Is there somewhere private we can talk?” the policeman asked Esther.

  She pointed to a room directly opposite and they ushered Matt into the designated space. The poorly lit room was small and bereft of meaningful furniture bar a small circular plastic table, forcing them to stand. After placing the laptop onto the table they stood and looked him over, giving Matt the chance to reciprocate.

  Neither looked rugged or world worn, and younger than he expected. Then again more and more people appeared younger to Matt these days. Likely they were overly qualified ex-graduates who couldn’t get a proper job in the prevailing economic climate, judging by their fresh complexions and energetic looking eyes. Matt concluded they were both paid up members of the healthy body, health mind brigade.

  The man was clean shaven with short cropped blonde hair and light blue eyes. His movements were sure and purposeful, authoritative but veiled behind a welcoming smile. She was shorter, closer to Matt’s height. The brown hair tied behind her small head suggested a disposition more overtly aggressive and forceful. This impression was reinforced by the direct, penetrating gaze from her large dark brown eyes. Mutt and Jeff was his immediate assessment.

  “Can’t this wait?” he complained. “I need to make sure the injured passenger across the hall is properly treated.”

  “No,” insisted th
e male detective. “We’re investigating an incident we believe to be a case of attempted murder.”

  Matt hid his surprise behind a blank stare. There was no way these people could have already discovered the assault on Jenna. What shade of darkness was at play here, he wondered. He decided to play dumb, until he could get a better fix on what was going on.

  “This was an accident, nothing more. You can’t honestly think I’m in the market for killing off my own passengers?”

  “We’re not talking about your passengers, Mr Durham,” said the female officer. “We believe someone is trying to kill you.”

  Matt returned the woman’s steady gaze without giving anything away. He glanced across to the male detective and was met by the same impassionate stare.

  “That’s crazy. No-one has any reason to want to harm me. I don’t have any beneficiaries nor am I indebted to anyone, not even the bank, so no-one could possibly gain from my demise. Besides, I wasn’t even on the plane.”

  “But it is your plane?” quizzed Danbridge.

  “It’s one of them.”

  Neither responded, though Matt was sure he caught sight of a few furtive glances being exchanged between the two law officials.

  “Friends?” asked Danbridge.

  “Don’t have any close friends,” he said with a shrug.

  “Have you upset anyone in particular recently?” asked Early.

  “No more than usual.”

  “Had any problems with business acquaintances?” asked the female officer.

  “That’s as much as they are, acquaintances. I prefer to keep my distance.”

  The constant, emotionless staring never faltered. Added to the tactic of firing questions in turns, the whole exercise was beginning to annoy him. No doubt, this was a well-practised routine.

  “Look, what makes you even think someone has tried to kill me?”

  Danbridge flipped open the laptop. Almost immediately, pictures began to frame up on the screen.

  “This is your plane?” she asked curtly.

  Matt could see the registration painted on the side of the yellow machine.

  “Yes, it’s under a few feet of ocean at the moment.”

  “No, it’s been recovered. The following are photographs of both the left wing strut and supporting float, taken after it was pulled from the ocean,” she added.

  Her hands manipulated the cursor to reveal a steady stream of close up stills. There were nine in total, showcasing the relevant sections.

  “You’re moving too quickly,” he told her.

  Danbridge repeated the exercise, waiting for a few seconds before moving through each of the images. The damage was all too worryingly evident, jagged metal edges occupying spaces where seams and fittings were supposed to have been in place.

  “Inconclusive, could have been caused by the impact,” said Matt.

  “And the faulty wiring to the engine?” she quizzed.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Your mechanic,” said Early. “He’s thinks this is sabotage.”

  “Trying to cover us before the safety investigation begins.”

  Another furtive glance passed between them.

  “You’re not taking this very seriously, Mr Durham, given the evidence,” Danbridge snapped.

  “Look,” he retorted sharply. “As impressed as I am by the speed with which the public sector moves on this island, it would be better to wait for the findings of the official safety investigation before jumping to any conclusions.”

  Her eyes lit with an inflamed rage at the dismissive quip. The phrase looks could kill sprang to mind if there ever was any truth to the saying then Matt would be already toast.

  “Jumping to conclusions? Someone has tried to kill you man,” she yelled.

  Detective Early attempted to placate his angered partner by raising an arm. Matt could see she was struggling to contain her mounting fury by the way she bit her lip. It amused him.

  “Do you have security cameras on site, Mr Durham?” the male detective asked.

  Matt shrugged.

  “This is Victoria,” he replied casually.

  The two officers looked at each other, and then Danbridge contemptuously snapped the laptop shut. Matt concluded he’d pushed his luck far enough, the last thing he needed was to have the local bobby brigade sniffing around.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My sole priority at the moment is for the health and welfare of the injured passenger. I’m sure your motives are well intended but no-one accrues any advantage in harming me in any way. If you don’t mind I’d rather get back across the hall to make sure the patient has everything she needs.”

  The two officers paused. Matt saw the fire in Danbridge’s eyes had dimmed and was hopeful he’d done enough to douse her interest.

  “Perhaps we could talk to you later, at a better time,” said the man called Early

  Matt nodded appreciatively and half smiled at the two officials.

  “Thank you for your concern,” he replied. “I guess I’m still a little shaken.”

  The detectives left promptly. Rather than dash straight into Jenna’s room, Matt took a few moments to rationalise what had happened. The damage looked like sabotage; and if the engine wiring had been tampered with then this was a real worry. Why would anyone want to hurt him? Other than the brief fracas with the unruly youths in The Keg the previous night Matt had no other enemies, at least none he knew of.

  And why would anyone want to assault Jenna? There was something in play here, something not obvious to the naked eye. Knowing he couldn’t use his mobile inside the hospital Matt searched for the nearest exit and rang the office.

  “Donna, I need you to bring a couple of things to the hospital for me,” he said.

  Matt had fixed his attention on the computer screen for almost four hours, flicking through the CCTV security footage for the previous night. The remaining embers of daylight, outside the hospital canteen window, were fading into darkness. His eyes felt strained and tired, but there was no other option other than to keep going to make absolutely sure. The tape was showing three in the morning, well beyond the cruise ship’s departure point, so none of Will’s friends had retaliated to the incident in The Keg and paid his premises an untimely visit.

  He was starting to believe this had been a waste of time, and he had entirely overreacted to the insinuations of the local constabulary and their far-fetched and slightly unnerving story. This is Victoria, after all. Then he saw them. First one, then two, and then a third figure emerged from the shadows and moved cautiously towards the jetty. Matt sat transfixed as the trio used a series of hand signals to communicate. They deftly stole across the open space towards the plane. All were dressed in dark overalls and balaclavas.

  The smallest of the three stood on watch whilst the other two set about their dark business. A small torch light flickered on and one of the figures placed a gloved hand to a waist belt, retrieving some sort of hand tool to open the engine flap and start work. Matt glanced to the side of the screen and could see the other head by one of the floats. The shape examined the fittings and then began the sabotage.

  The fact none of the company employees, including Matt himself, had noticed anything untoward the next morning was a testament to these people’s skills. They were professionals.

  There could be no doubt. Matt was under attack. First, they had siphoned money from his business account. Then they set about causing a plane accident. Someone was out to get him. Two questions occupied his mind. Who were these people and why were they doing this?

  “What are you up to?” said the voice to his left. “You’ve been gone for hours and Jenna’s more than a little peeved you’ve deserted her.”

  Matt closed the lid of the laptop and glanced back at Will.

  “Tell her I’m nearly done, accident reporting records and all that stuff. I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

  Will nodded and headed back in the direction of Jenna’s room. As soon a
s he was out of sight, Matt re-opened the laptop and resumed reviewing the tapes.

  The dark-clad figures were in place for over half an hour, working silently away. It was the smallest figure, on guard, that bothered Matt most. Something about the movements of this individual didn’t sit right, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Re-winding the tape he focussed once more on the slightly built figure. There, that was it!

  A hand of the dark shape reached up to its collar bone and briefly massaged at the shoulder. It happened on a number of other occasions. He wondered if it was a wound though there was no sign of physical discomfort to the action, more part of a usual routine. For minutes on end he searched his mind for inspiration but could find no answer.

  In frustration, he turned away from the machine and began to look around the room. His gaze settled upon two female nurses sitting a few feet away, talking animatedly over a coffee and what looked like a salad bowl. Jenna should be doing this, chatting to a nursing friend during a meal break instead of recuperating from injury in a hospital room.

  The nurse facing him touched at her shoulder with a hand before moving it in some sort of half-circular motion, as if she were putting something back into place. And he realised. The third intruder, the one on guard, was a woman. She had been adjusting her bra. There were coincidences, and then there was the blindingly obvious. The sentry at the jetty last night had to be the same woman who had attacked Jenna on the plane. Matt’s attention darted back to the screen.

  Who exactly are you, bitch?

  Chapter Seven

  Chase