Are You Listening to Me? : A Detective Toby Mystery (9781927899403)

by Cushnie-mansour, Mary M.

  “But he had the plants in his house!” Tessa protested.

  “Sure he did; so could someone else have them in their house. Get his computer. Hopefully, it will have the emails still on it––the ones the killer sent.” With those words, Brody turned and left.

  “I’ll get Bryce to make the call to the judge,” Tessa said. “I also have to fill Cole in on what’s going on. He thought this would be an open and shut case so he could get Camden expedited back to Vancouver to face those charges.”

  Jack headed for the front door. “I’m going to talk to Emma; maybe she can make her brother see the insanity of what he is doing.”

  “Don’t bet on it. And, hopefully, she hasn’t had a change of heart and removed any of Camden’s personal possessions. If she has, our ass is on the line for having trusted she wouldn’t!” Tessa called after Jack.

  “And that would make her an accessory, wouldn’t it?” Jack stated.

  “Yep.”

  As Tessa headed to Bryce’s office, she passed Travis. “Good luck, young man.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t what Tessa would have classified as a cheerful smile. “Thanks,” he said and headed to the room where Camden was waiting. He set the bottle of water on the table and sat down. Travis tapped his pencil on the files in front of him.

  “There is a lot of evidence against you, Camden. There is only one way I can plead you as not guilty and expect you to get off––you will need to plead insanity.” He stopped, waiting for a reaction.

  There was none. Camden sipped on his water and then set the bottle on the table. His eyes were once again empty pits of torment; his lips were sealed. Travis called for an officer to come and return Camden to his cell. “I’ll look at this stuff and come by tomorrow.”

  Camden hung his head and shuffled out of the room.

  ~

  Jack knocked on Emma’s door. It took her a few minutes to answer. “Sorry, I was upstairs.” She opened the door wide for Jack to enter.

  Jack’s heart skipped a beat. Hopefully, she wasn’t tampering with evidence.

  “I took an empty box up to Camden’s room and left it on his bed. I figured you could put anything you need to take into it.” Emma walked into the living room. “Would you like something to drink, Jack?”

  Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “No thanks. Tessa should be here soon with a warrant to obtain Camden’s belongings.”

  “I would have just let you take them, Jack. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but this way it’s legal. Camden’s lawyer won’t be able to fight the technicality of an illegal search and seizure.”

  “He won’t.”

  “Camden wants to plead not guilty, Emma.”

  The shock on Emma’s face was genuine. “Excuse me? He wants to plead innocent?”

  “Yep … that’s what his lawyer told us.”

  “His lawyer?”

  “Yep, he asked for a lawyer.” Jack sat back in the chair and observed the confusion on Emma’s face.

  “Who is paying for this lawyer?”

  “Court-appointed.”

  “He wants to plead not guilty?” Emma still could not believe what she was hearing. She had added up a lot of things that had happened over the years, and she knew, deep down, her brother had a problem––he was guilty.

  “Yep.” Jack gazed directly into Emma’s eyes. “Is there any way you can talk to your brother and convince him this road he is thinking of taking is madness? Your brother is mentally sick, Emma; he needs help. He wouldn’t survive a week in a maximum security prison. I know what he has done is horrible, and I would like to see him rot in jail for killing all those people, but I also see how sick he is. Can you help us help him? If anyone can get through to him, you can.”

  “Let me think about it. I’ll give you my answer in the morning.”

  They heard a car pull up and stop in front of the house. Emma went to let Tessa in. Tessa handed her the search warrant and then nodded to Jack to follow her upstairs. “Show us Camden’s room,” she ordered Emma.

  “First on your left,” she replied without moving.

  Jack and Tessa looked around Camden’s room. Jack unhooked the laptop and put it in the box Emma had provided them. Tessa inspected the closet, finding the coffee grinder. “Look what we have here, Jack! Bingo! The appliance he used to grind the seeds … still some residue in the cup.”

  Jack was looking under the bed: he pulled out the well-worn photo album. He flipped through the pages, then placed it in the box.

  Finding nothing else of value in the room, Jack and Tessa headed downstairs, thanked Emma for her co-operation, and headed out the door. Jack told Emma he would call her in the morning for her answer. She nodded and closed the door. Emma watched the car leave and then headed out to her three-season room to tend her plants. Duke was waiting at the back door. She opened it and let him in.

  It didn’t take long for the police’s I.T. guy to find the emails on Camden’s computer. He smiled as he told Tessa that that evidence alone would be enough to put Camden away for life. The coffee grinder also tested positive for castor bean residue. Tessa left the station with the knowledge that Brody Kaufman was going to be one jubilant district attorney.

  Thursday, July 9, 2009

  E

  mma called Jack’s house at eight in the morning. “I’ll talk to my brother,” she said. “I’m ready whenever you want to come and get me.”

  On the way to the station, Jack thanked Emma for making this decision. She just looked out the van window and said nothing. When they arrived, Jack escorted her to Camden’s cell.

  “I’d rather talk to my brother in private––in his cell,” she expressed. Jack motioned for the officer who was guarding the cell to let her in.

  “Hello, Camden.” Emma sat down beside her brother on the bed. He pushed himself up and backed up to the wall at the head of his bed.

  “Emma, what are you doing here?” His voice was barely audible.

  “I have come here to talk some sense into you, Cam. The police tell me you want to drag this whole thing through court. Do you really think that’s wise? You’ll end up in prison, and I won’t be able to come and see you there. If you plead insanity, they’ll be able to help you.” Emma reached out for her brother’s hand. “Please, Cam, for me. Don’t make me go through a trial and all the publicity that comes with it. I’ll never be able to show my face outside the house.”

  Camden hung his head. He raised his hands to his temples and rubbed hard. He was in so much pain. He just wanted everything to go away. He hit his forehead a couple of times, tears in his eyes.

  “They have your computer, Cam, and they took a coffee grinder from your room. They seemed pretty happy about that. If you make a deal with the district attorney, this could be over before you know it. They’ll put you in a maximum security mental hospital, so I’ll be able to visit you all the time.”

  “You will?” Camden looked into his sister’s eyes.

  “I promise.”

  “I’ll think about it then.”

  “Don’t take too long, Cam; I need you to do this for me––for us. Remember what you always say to me … together, forever … you and me.”

  Camden nodded.

  “I have to go home now,” Emma rose and bent over and kissed her brother on the cheek. “Please do what is right,” she whispered in his ear. And then she was gone.

  Camden agonized over what his sister had just told him. He knew she was right. He couldn’t be so selfish and expect her to visit him in a maximum security prison. Camden was not fool enough to believe he would get off. He curled up on his cot, put his thumb in his mouth, and stared into space.

  When Camden’s lawyer arrived later that morning, Camden told him he was ready to make a deal.

  Travis breathed a sigh of relief.

  EPILOGUE

  Saturday, July 11, 2009

  I

  t was going
to be a joyous day. Toby was coming home. He would still be laid up for quite some time, but the vet had promised that with a lot of tender loving care, Toby would be as good as new in no time. He had the heart of a lion.

  Jack, with Andrew and Emma’s help, had arranged a welcome home party. Several police officers, including Tessa and Bryce Wagner, would be present. Jack fired up the barbeque and threw on steaks; nothing but the best for his Toby.

  Andrew and Emma watched over the goings-on when Jack went to pick up Toby. The guests hid in the backyard. Toby thought something might be up when he smelled the barbeque. “Bit closer than the neighbours’ … wonder what Jack is cooking me tonight. He should know I can’t chew very well yet.”

  As Jack walked out to the back deck, with Toby in his arms, everyone jumped up and hollered surprise. Toby almost had a heart attack. “These guys should be careful. I am very fragile right now; the old ticker has had just about enough for a while!”

  “We have to be careful with Toby,” Jack mentioned, “he’ll still have the casts on for a few weeks. I think he would enjoy company, but not for too long at a time because he’ll need his sleep to recuperate faster.” Everyone laughed when Jack mentioned sleep.

  “I don’t think cats have to be encouraged to get their sleep,” one of the officers hollered out.

  Bryce stepped forward with a big box. “Toby,” he began, “once again, we don’t know how to thank you. You have proven … beyond any reasonable doubt … you deserve to be awarded this plaque and this badge for your great detective work. It is an honour for me to present it to you.”

  Everyone clapped.

  Andrew stepped forward. “Toby, to thank you for saving my life, I have placed an order at the pet store for your treats to be delivered on a weekly basis––the best treats a cat could ever wish for.”

  Everyone clapped again.

  Toby looked around for Emma. He saw her standing off to the side. Jack noticed the direction Toby was looking, and he motioned for Emma to come forward. As soon as she reached into his box and stroked his head, Toby began to purr.

  ~

  Later that night, alone in her house with Duke, Emma smiled. It was good to be alive. It was good to finally be free. It was good to be able to stay in one spot now, for as long as she wanted. Camden was a good brother. He had always been willing to do anything for her, especially after the rape. He would never know. No one would ever know that she had known all along what he was up to. She had been very careful to play the part of the fragile victim and Camden had never suspected––not once. Neither had anyone else.

  Emma had observed how angry Camden was after the guy who raped her walked away with a mere slap on the wrists. She had listened to his speeches about revenge against everyone who had wronged them, including their parents. She had remained passive and delicate, and he had stepped up to the plate to make life decent for her. In return, she had looked after him well, making sure his meals were always ready and the majority of the household duties were looked after.

  The only problem was they’d had to move around too much. And then the moves had escalated, and Emma began to tire of moving. She decided she wanted stability. When they moved to Brantford, she had hoped she would have time to get him to stop; she would stop playing on her fragility and show him she was okay now. That is why she had mentioned that she see a counsellor; she wanted to move forward with her life.

  But Camden had too quickly gone right over the edge: there was no stopping him. She saw how tortured he was. Emma would sometimes look in on him during the night when he was sleeping, and she saw how he curled like a baby and sucked his thumb. She even knew how to check his emails, and she was aware of his special one, which he sent to his victims. She knew what he was doing when she heard the grinder in his room.

  Emma always made sure she looked after the plants, especially the castor bean plant, which she had suggested they buy. She remembered the day she had told Camden all about the castor bean plant and what it could do, and she could still see the look of amazement, and then excitement, on her brother’s face. He was smart; he’d figure a way to work it out.

  Emma thought back to her childhood: to her negligent parents who thought of no one but themselves; to the kids at school who teased her and Camden without mercy; to the day she and Camden entered foster care because their parents had been arrested for fraud; to the six foster homes they were subjected to, only two of them being warm and protective. She remembered the beatings she and Camden had to endure, and the beatings he would take for her. Those thrashings had made her tough––tougher than Camden.

  However, her strength had been temporarily shaken on the day the last foster father they lived with had raped her. She had staggered from her room and had run from the house out to the barn. She had thrown herself into the hay, her only comfort at the time being a couple of big orange farm cats. That is where Camden found her when he returned from delivering something for their foster father. Her clothing was ripped, her face streaked with tears, her legs streaked with blood!

  Camden had gone to the police, but it hadn’t done any good. Their foster father was a respected man in the community and who were they––just a couple of kids who had already been through five other foster homes. One of the officers had even snickered and suggested Emma had asked for it. The officer had been unaware Camden had heard him, but he had, and he told Emma how disgusting the man was––as much as the man who’d raped her!

  Later that night, Camden had told her to pack her bags, they were leaving. They would survive; he would look after her. He was fed up with everyone else ruining their lives. It was time to take charge. During the next few months, it had been difficult; Emma had had to listen to Camden rant and rave about everything and everybody. He went through several jobs, always losing them because someone had done something to him or blamed him for something he didn’t do. She soon began to put behind her what had happened, but she was careful not to let Camden see that. She liked the new Camden, the one who wanted revenge.

  Camden had gone to see a few doctors and had even been admitted to the mental health hospital at one time, but she had always kept her distance from the medical organizations. She wasn’t willing to have them start probing into her mind. And Camden had been protective of her, even in this, when she explained to him how devastating it would be for her to have to remember the entire rape ordeal––and the other abuses inflicted on them.

  Emma remembered the day she was looking at the newspaper with her brother and he was scanning the job listings. She had pointed to the ad for a gym. She had told him that lots of different people went there, and she had warned him there might be some not so nice ones, too, but he should just ignore them. She had known Camden wouldn’t be able to do that. She had secretly talked to one of his doctors; she knew her brother was paranoid delusional and should be taking medication to help him control his urges. Camden did take medicine sometimes, but even then it wasn’t the pills he was supposed to be taking. Emma had always switched them with a placebo.

  It was after Camden got the first gym job that he truly changed. It was then he started to pick the seeds from the castor bean plant, always thinking he was hiding it from his sister. Emma ensured there were plenty of those plants available to him. He had started to take charge with an authority she had never seen before, and at first, it had been fun, but it had grown tiring.

  When Camden met Doctor Lucy, he began to change. Emma couldn’t have that; she wasn’t ready to let go, so she suggested she pay Doctor Lucy a visit. She had told her brother she didn’t have to go over events from the past; she just wanted to meet the woman who was making such a difference in her brother’s life. After the visit, Emma told Camden she didn’t think Doctor Lucy was right for him, which, again, was something no one else knew. It was shortly after that conversation that Emma had heard the grinder for the sixth time, and she knew they would be leaving very soon.

  “Come along, Duke,” she sai
d as she got up and went out to the three-season room to water her plants. She gave an extra bit to the castor bean plants to ensure their hardiness. One never knew when they might be needed again.

  “They were right, Duke––I am the strong one.”

  About the Author

  Mary M. Cushnie-Mansour resides in Brantford, ON, Canada. She is the award-winning author of the popular “Night’s Vampire” series. Mary has a freelance journalism certificate from Waterloo University, and in the past, she wrote a short story column and feature articles for the Brantford Expositor. She has also published five collections of poetry, two short-story anthologies, a youth novel, nine bilingual children’s books, and a biography.

  Mary has always believed in encouraging people’s imaginations and spent several years running the “Just Imagine” program for the local school board. She has also been heavily involved in the local writing community, inspiring adults to follow their dreams.

  You can contact Mary through her website http://www.writerontherun.ca

  or via email

  mary@writerontherun.ca