by Neal Davies
Sebastian’s been so tied up with his police work of late, he rarely has time to reflect on his past career. If most others were presented with the highest award in the field of psychology, it might change the way they see themselves but not Sebastian. It seems to have no real bearing on the ‘here and now’ and even the books he’s presently writing are focused on the criminal mind, an area he has never fully delved into before. Her flattering spiel has pleased him enormously and he didn’t blink an eye as he replies, “Coffee would be great. Thanks, Mrs Green. My goodness me, I am surprised anyone would remember that book. Your kind words are overwhelming, thank you!”
“Call me Olive, it’s short for Olivia. As far as you being surprised, perhaps a little, but overwhelmed, definitely not.”
He folds his arms and looks into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
This time her lips push her cheeks upward as her smile broadens further. “Look at you with your arms crossed and a frown on your forehead! There’s really no need to get defensive! Now if you had fidgeted with your collar, or even raised your eyebrows a bit, I may have agreed that you were overwhelmed but those steely eyes gave you away.”
Sebastian unfolds his arms and breaks into laughter. “Very good, Olive! You have not only been reading my books, you’ve also been using my theories to your own advantage. Well done, you!”
She confidently takes a seat at the table with him, opens a tin that contains homemade fruit cake and pushes it toward him. “So what brings you here, Mr Cork; are the neighbours trying to get me put away?”
He takes a piece of cake. “Sebastian. You can call me Sebastian. No, it’s nothing like that. I’m actually a consultant for the police these days, and I just wanted to ask you if you remember a fellow by the name of Joe Devonport? His family lived four doors down from here.”
She begins pouring him a coffee and a worried frown eclipses her exceptionally smooth forehead. “Is he behind bars?”
Sebastian squints at the question. “No. This is just an enquiry, that’s all.”
She goes to the refrigerator without saying a word, then returns with a small ceramic jug of milk. Before she withdraws a chair to sit opposite him, she rests both her hands on the back of it and takes a deep breath. “That’s a long time ago, Sebastian, and if you don’t mind, I’d rather change the subject.”
Sebastian can see she’s frightened; all the same, he doesn’t waste his words. “I’m happy to do that for a short time, Olive. But I’m on the clock and will need to leave shortly. I hope you understand.”
She shrinks back into her chair. “Yes, of course. But can you tell me, what made you leave your brilliant career so soon after achieving the highest accolade in the field of psychology? You were at the pinnacle of your career!”
Sebastian feels he owes her an explanation, especially since she has followed his career for so long. “Honestly Olive, I was turning sixty. Yes, I was at the apex of my career, and perhaps that’s the reason I was feeling the lack of challenge in my life. All I knew at the time was: I needed a break. The thrill I had for my career was dwindling and that couldn’t be good for my clientele or my students. My wife, in all her wisdom, believed I had more to offer than just retirement and providence provided the solution.”
A client’s brother was murdered and the police were understaffed. Although I was saddened for my client’s loss, I felt thrilled and excited at the new challenges the case would bring. And I have never since regretted the path I took as it has breathed renewed energy into this old man.”
Olive tilts her head toward her shoulder and waves it gently from side to side, “Yes I still have the paper clippings from when you solved the murder. Look Sebastian, I know I haven’t been much help but there are some things even Psychologists don’t get over.” She gets up from the table, goes back to the refrigerator and grabs a pen and notebook from the top of it, then returns and begins jotting down some notes, “This is the phone number and address of Joe’s old headmaster. He’s retired now but I’m sure he’ll be able to help you more than I can.” She rips the page from the notebook and hands it to Sebastian.
“I understand Olive, and thank you.”
She places both her hands over his, and, in an emotional voice replies, “No, thank you! Not just from me but from Elsie as well, God rest her soul.” Olive sees him out to the gate where they say their goodbyes and Sebastian plods steadily onwards in the direction of his car.
No sooner does he open the Bentley’s door, throw his cane in the back and sit in the driver’s seat then he receives a call from Cameron Buckley. “Hi, Seb. I have just received the results back on your patchouli oil and it is an exact match. As usual you have hit the nail on the head, my friend.”
A large smile eclipses Sebastian’s face. “Thank you so much, Cameron. I appreciate the good work you and your staff do; it makes this job so much easier.”
“No problems, Seb. Have a great day.” Sebastian hangs up the phone and then reads the name and address written on the paper Olive has given him. It reads ‘Henry Collins- 58 Sampson way Ph.79582123’ and even though Cynthia has been constantly on his back to use a GPS, there are some things he has trouble changing; so he pulls his book of maps from the glove compartment and sees the address is only a block from where he is now.
Sebastian rings Henry to let him know he’s coming and then begins his short journey through the narrow streets and arrives near his house within a matter of minutes. It’s quite a busy little district with very few places to park and Sebastian is angry with himself for not walking from where he was originally. He eventually finds a spot further up the street, parks the car, grabs his cane and strolls along the well-worn pavement to the old principal’s home.
As he passes through yet another creaking gate and up the glazed red brick paved path toward the house, a tall solidly built balding man wearing circular wire glasses opens the front door and greets him at the entrance. He extends his arm to shake Sebastian’s hand. “Hi, I’m Henry and you must be Sebastian. Come in, come in.” Henry leads him halfway up the hallway and then veers off into a quaint little lounge room with paintings hung on every wall. “Take a seat, Sebastian. My wife’s out shopping at the moment and we don’t have much in the way of biscuits or cake until she gets back but can I offer you a tea or coffee?”
Sebastian eases back into the comfort of the antique lounge chair and rubs his hands up and down the smooth French oak at the front of the arms. “No, I’m fine thanks, Henry; I just had one but thanks anyway.”
Henry collapses back into the chair opposite and rests his hands across his stomach by interlocking his fingers. “I received a call from Olive straight after I got off the phone with you. She tells me I’m in the presence of one of the greatest psychologists there ever was; is this true?” he says as his wrinkled face takes on an inquisitive surveillance.
Sebastian pushes his chin up and looks at the ceiling, then begins rubbing the hair on the back of his head with the tips of his fingers. Sometimes he wishes his past achievements could remain in the past but it seems fame always comes with a price.
Henry can see his question has put Sebastian out of sorts and is quick to rectify his mistake. “Sorry, Sebastian. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable; what can I help you with?”
Sebastian slowly drops his head back down and places his index finger across the top of his upper lip and his thumb beneath his chin. “No, please, don’t apologise and no, I don’t believe I’m the most famous. Don’t get me wrong - I am good at what I do but sometimes life throws some people more opportunities than it does others. As for what it is you can do for me, I’m wondering if you recall a young boy who attended your school, his name is…”
Before Sebastian can finish his sentence Henry completes it for him. “Joe Devonport. Yes, I remember him well. Olive also told me why you were coming here and gave me permission to inform you why she had been so apprehensive about communicating her experiences with Mr Devonport. Back then there used to
be a warehouse down the bottom of Olive’s street. I’m pretty sure there’s a car yard there now. Anyway, Olive used to go there to feed the stray cats that would amass in and around it for shelter. One particular evening she went down there and found Joe torturing one of the strays; in fact it was so badly mutilated she had to take it to the vet to be put down. Olive knew the school blazer he was wearing and came to my office the following day to report what she’d seen. I was appalled at what she told me and I immediately called Joe to my office while Olive was still there. I thought if he saw her in the flesh he would confess. I still regret my decision to have her present as it was a huge mistake.”
Sebastian becomes curious. “What makes you say that, my friend?”
Henry continues, “I don’t know if she told you but Olive was a fairly prominent psychologist around here and she had done some counselling work for some of the students previously. That’s how I knew she wasn’t exaggerating about what she’d seen but the moment Joe strode into my office as cocky as all get out, he began denying her whole story. In fact, he then threatened her by saying that if she kept saying things about him there would be consequences. I ended up giving him detention just for his attitude but there was nothing else I could do, it was her word against his. Anyway, Olive had a cat of her own that she’d let out at four every afternoon and it would always come back at five for a feed but the day she visited the school the cat went out and didn’t return that evening. She found it the next morning wired to her gate and mutilated so badly it had choked on its own blood; suffice to say Olive hasn’t had a cat since.”
Sebastian sits forward in the chair. “That explains Olive not wanting to discuss Joe. Tell me, were there any other incidents at the school involving Joe that you know about?”
Henry curves the corner of his lips on one side and nods gently in the affirmative. “When Joe first came to the school he seemed to have a needy air about him but overtime he began to show an inner evil strength. Some things were brought to my attention by my staff and I dealt with them as I would any other issues regarding pupils but after the episode with Olive, I kept a very close eye on him. There were further incidents that we believed Joe was possibly involved in where a couple of boys had been cut by a very sharp object and even the police were called in to investigate but we believe the boys were so frightened of what Joe might do, they said they had been playing with broken glass and cut themselves. I was convinced there was more behind it than what they were saying, so I put him on watch even during recess but he was smart enough not to try his antics inside the school grounds again.”
Sebastian pinches his bottom lip and then sways his head in disapproval. “What about his parents, Henry? I was told that violent domestic quarrels were a regular event in their house and were often followed up with the boy getting a beating?”
“What you heard is more than likely correct Sebastian; advocates from the child safety department would regularly come to the school to check up on him as they were getting nowhere with the parents. Each time someone was sent to the house to investigate the matter, they were told the boy was clumsy and always falling over, so they approached Joe as well and he would back up his parents’ claims.”
Without warning Sebastian cuffs his hands over his cane which is resting between his legs and pushes himself up to his feet, “Well I can’t thank you enough, Henry. Your information will help me build a fairly good profile but I really must be on my way now.”
Henry sits to attention and then rises to his feet and moves to shake Sebastian’s hand. “Tell me something, Sebastian, what’s this all about?”
Sebastian grasps Henry’s hand and holds it steadfast. “Henry, I’d love to tell you but as you know some things need to remain confidential.”
Henry grabs the back of Sebastian’s right hand with his left and smiles cheekily. “Of course… but no harm in trying.”
Sebastian smiles back. “None at all Henry; none at all. Oh, by the way, Henry…do you know if a flea has any significant meaning for Joe?”
Henry releases Sebastian’s hand and affirms Sebastian’s question by nodding his head. “Unusual question but the answer is yes. It was a nickname the older boys gave him because of his height. They never used it in a way to belittle him in front of others – well not that we saw anyway – and it never seemed to bother him, so we didn’t see it as bullying.”
Sebastian deep in thought remains emotionless and without blinking an eyelid he begins his walk to the front door. Once there he turns and shakes the retired Head Master’s hand again. “Thanks again, Henry. I appreciate your hospitality and information. “Henry smiles and waits on the porch until Sebastian is through the gate before he goes back in.
Sebastian strolls back toward his car while remaining deep in thought, so deep in thought in fact, he walks straight past it and doesn’t realise ’til a passing ambulance with its sirens blaring jump starts him back into the real world. He finally returns to his car, throws his cane in the back and takes out his phone from inside his jacket. It has been a long day so he decides to ring Paul and tell him he will be going straight home, rather than calling into the station.
That evening Sebastian is uneasy as he sits eating dinner with Cynthia. His thoughts are fully consumed with what he has learned about Joe and contemplating if it is possible for someone like Kate to be in two places at the same time. He filters and sorts through all types of scenarios and vague possibilities that rapidly run through his mind like sand in an hourglass and will only shut down his thinking process once the improbable has been totally eliminated and the most plausible of all results is achieved. Whenever he’s in this deep mindset, Sebastian tends to hit a switch within that shuts him off from all that is happening around him.
Cynthia, who knows him better than anyone, stops chewing, puts down her knife and fork and slumps back in her chair. “Okay, Seb, what’s going on in there?” she says with a mixture of annoyance and concern.
Sebastian, who is separating peas with his knife and then scrambling them again with his fork, is drawn from his thoughts by her probing question. “Sorry, my love. I was just thinking about the case and there are quite a few things that aren’t making any sense whatsoever.”
She smiles within, knowing it wasn’t so long ago that he was contemplating retirement and how it would have been a great loss if he hadn’t found this newborn enthusiasm working with the police department. “Is there anything I can help with?” she asks sincerely, as she leans forward to pick up her utensils again.
“It would help me immensely if you could make a few phone calls for me tomorrow.”
She gives him a small grin and says, “That won’t be a problem, Seb. Just write out the details after we finish our dinner; all I need to know is who you want me to ring and what you want to know and I will get onto it first thing tomorrow.”
After dinner Sebastian has to be reminded by Cynthia about the list of information he requires, so he goes to his office, types up his requests and then returns to spend the rest of the evening discussing the case with his wife in the study.
13. CUTTING IT FINE – THURSDAY
The following morning during his drive to the station, Sebastian receives a call from Paul. “Hi, Seb. I’m on my way to the gym now and I might spend a full day there, so I will ring you when I finish and we can debrief over the phone if that’s alright with you?”
“That will be fine Paul; I will talk to you later.”
Sebastian continues his journey without interruption to the station and on arrival he heads straight to the Dust Pit, where he spends several hours reading through all the notes from the previous day and then typing out an updated file for Jim.
Once complete he goes to Jim’s office and Emily tells him that he has just missed Jim as he has gone out to lunch. Sebastian leaves his report with her and works his way back to the Dust Pit. Just as he takes a seat at his desk his phone rings.
“Hi, Darling. Wow, this was a hard one! But I think the informa
tion I have for you is just what you are looking for.”
“Wonderful! Go ahead, my love.”
Cynthia continues with enthusiasm. “Well, apparently during Kate’s travels overseas, she has been accompanied by a young boy who has cerebral palsy; his name is Dylan McConkey.”
Sebastian scratches his head. “That is interesting, my dear, and such an unusual surname at that.”
Cynthia is quick to reply. “Yes that’s what I thought, so it wasn’t hard for me to find out where he lives with his mother whose name is Michelle. As soon as we get off the phone I will text you the details of their address.”
Sebastian thanks his wife, hangs up and waits for his personal message to come through.
Once he has the address, he works his way out of the building, jumps in his car and drives to Michelle McConkey’s apartment but finds there is no one at home.
Sebastian makes some quick calls and then gets on the phone to Cynthia again. “Hello, my darling. I’m sorry to bother you but I need you to look up someone else rather urgently please; in fact it could be a matter of life and death.”
Cynthia is temporarily quiet and then replies, “You aren’t in danger, are you Seb?”
“No my love but someone – I’m not sure who but someone – is if I can’t get this done quickly!”
“I’ll get onto it immediately, Seb, and send you through another text as soon as I can get the answers.”