Acts Beyond Redemption

by S. Burke

  FBI Task Force H.Q.

  Nigel got in early. He grabbed a coffee and a doughnut and sat waiting for Mike Matheson to arrive, going over in his head just how he would play this meeting to achieve a satisfactory outcome.

  He was surprised when Henry Weisman came in, mainly because Henry looked unwell. The man approaching his desk appeared to have aged almost overnight.

  “Morning, Henry.” Nigel said.

  Henry nodded. “Not such a good morning, Nigel. I’m glad you’re in early, I need your help with something.”

  “Just ask, Henry. Whatever I can do.” Nigel indicated the seat opposite. “Did you want to talk here, or in your office?”

  “Here’s fine. It’s not anything the rest of our people won’t know shortly anyway.”

  “Now you have me curious, Henry. What’s happened?”

  Henry was about to talk when Mike Matheson entered the room. Mike looked over to where they were seated and headed in their direction.

  “Stay here, Nigel. I have the feeling that Mike may need your expertise after my announcement.” Henry stood and grabbed another chair, dragging it across the room and placing it next to his own. He gave Mike a smile as the big agent sat.

  “Is this a private session?” Mike asked.

  “Not at all, Mike. That’s why I grabbed you some seating. I’m glad you’re here, it saves me having to tell you the news individually,” Henry said quietly.

  “What news?” Nigel and Mike asked simultaneously.

  “It’s about Trish.”

  “What? Is she okay? What’s happened to her? Where has she been?” The questions tumbled from Mike in rapid succession, showing clearly just how worried he had been.

  “What is it, Henry?” Nigel asked.

  “Trish resigned this morning. Now before you both start asking questions I want you to hear me out. Understood?” Both men nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  “Trish has had a breakdown. She is currently undergoing treatment for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I offered her leave for however long it takes for her to be well enough to resume her role here, and she declined. I have read her analyst’s report, and I have been made aware that this is not going to be a short term process. Trish has opted to retire and take her pension, as is her right. Now … she is here, in my office. I warn you in advance she doesn’t look or sound at all well, so please no questions. She wants to clear out her office, and say her goodbyes. If she chooses to stay in touch, it must be her decision, but I wouldn’t count on it; at least for quite some time.” Henry raised his hand to forestall the questions clearly waiting to be asked. “I need your word you will not bombard her with questions. Without that I will recommend she doesn’t see you at all. Is that clear?” Henry stood and waited.

  “Yes, of course, you have my word, Henry.” Nigel said.

  “Mike?”

  “What … yes. Hell, Henry! What the hell am I gonna do without her?”

  “The same as the rest of us, Mike,” Henry responded. “My main concern right now is Trish. Not how we will manage without her.” He glared at Mike, and continued, “I’ll bring her down shortly.”

  “Henry? While you’re here and Mike as well, I need to fill you in on what’s happening with the Sheila Harrington investigation,” Nigel said.

  Both Mike and Henry resumed their seats.

  “Go ahead, doc.” Mike said.

  “Craig Lombardi has completed his assignment. Sheila Harrington comes up clean. She has said and done nothing to indicate she is in any way involved in these ‘Countdown’ murders. Craig has accordingly been reassigned and will already be on his way to that next duty. Given that information, I can only conclude that the incident in the interview room was some form of psychosis. I have discovered that Sheila Harrington had a nervous breakdown several years ago, after the sudden loss of her parents. Governor Damon Henderson is already aware of it- she told him herself when they began dating. I apologize for leading us on a wild goose chase. For the record, I also believe we have seen the last of these murders.”

  Both Henry and Mike were taken by surprise. Mike did a better job of concealing it than Henry was able to manage.

  “Are you recommending we close the case, Nigel?” Henry asked.

  “Not yet. I’m sure there are a few loose ends that need tying. But to continue to utilize the task force if no more victims come to our attention in say, six months or so, wouldn’t be the best use of highly trained manpower. That will be my recommendation.” He looked over at Mike and continued, “Sorry, Mike. This is no reflection on the Task Force team, I know how heavy a price you have all paid working on this fucking thing … especially now, in light of what has happened to Trish.”

  Mike Matheson sat quietly. Too quietly. It seemed an age before he finally spoke and when he did it was in a monotone neither of the other two had ever heard him use.

  “I’ll have my resignation on your desk as soon as I can focus on the wording. I can’t see Trish, not right now. Gentleman … I am going now. I intend to get blind stinking drunk. Alone! Do not offer me a shoulder. Either of you. Trust me, you do not want to be in my company right now.”

  Mike stood abruptly and pushed his chair back with enough force to send it flying across the room.

  “Mike …” Henry began, but the big agent had already left.

  “Henry? What now?” Nigel asked.

  “Now I bring Trish downstairs. Please prepare the rest of the team. When we receive Mike’s resignation it will be accepted without question. Then … I want this fucking case closed. The toll is simply too high. I’ll leave you to assign two people to finalize the loose ends. The task force will be disbanded and the team relocated. Any objections to that?”

  “I believe you have made a wise choice, Henry. I’ll sign off on it with absolutely no reservations.” Nigel said.

  Henry nodded. Then he stood and headed upstairs to Trish.

  Four Months Later

  Mike Matheson sat in the bar waiting for the Press conference to begin. It was ten o’clock in the morning and he was already drunk. He hadn’t been sober for longer than a few hours since his resignation had been accepted .The rumour mill had been busy, and if it were correct? He laughed out loud, and then he filled his glass and raised it to the television screen in a toast.

  “Good luck, Governor. You are sure as hell gonna need it.”

  CNN Coverage of Press Conference

  Governor Damon Henderson’s Mansion

  New York

  The good looking blonde man raised his hands for quiet. He smiled at the press gathering and began.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentleman, and thank you for joining me here today. Many of you have already surmised one of the reasons why I have called this Press Conference. I can confirm that I will be throwing my hat in the ring for the upcoming Presidential Election. Before I take questions, I want to share with you the second reason for you all being invited here today. Last night I asked a very beautiful young woman to become my wife and I am delighted and relieved to tell you all that she said yes. Please join me in welcoming my fiancée Sheila Harrington to the podium.”

  The curtain to the left opened and Sheila Harrington began to walk towards her fiancé. She had only taken a few steps when she appeared to stumble. It became obvious that the heel of her shoe had snapped off, and everyone held a momentary breath waiting to see how she would handle what had to be a very embarrassing moment.

  She held up the offending shoe and began to laugh. A rich, warm, contagious laugh, as welcome as it was unexpected. The press watched as she, still laughing, removed the other shoe and walked calmly in her stocking feet to join her concerned fiancé. She held up her hand and composed herself, still chuckling as she addressed the now smiling faces in front of her

  “Phew! I’ll give you all a moment to delete the words ‘poised’ and ‘elegant’ from your pre-prepared notes.” She laughed again and held up the offending shoe, and made a show of looking inside. “Well, now tha
t explains it! From now on, unless it’s made in the USA, I won’t be wearing it.”

  Those watching swore later that was the pivotal moment Sheila Harrington became known as Damon Henderson’s ‘Secret Weapon’. The press loved her. Television cameras were made to exploit beauty like hers.

  The producers of half a dozen prime time talk shows were already on the phone trying to set up interview times.

  As a bonus, and an unexpected side-effect, those female voters who may have decided she was too beautiful to be a First Lady changed their minds. She was the same as everyone else. Hell, her heel had snapped, and she handled it like a trooper.

  Backstage, after the press had reluctantly stopped asking questions and left, Damon Henderson put his arm around her shoulders. “Darling, you were just amazing. They loved you. It couldn’t have gone any better if we’d planned it that way. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Damon, you may need to have someone clean my dressing room. The sawdust is a bit of a giveaway.”

  “You didn’t?”

  Sheila Harrington just smiled.

  Biography

  Suzanna Burke (or Soooz as she is known to her friends) lives with her Daughter and two-year-old Grandson in the beautiful city of Sydney, Australia.

  Soooz began writing for pleasure at a very young age. It has taken many years for her to have the confidence to present her work for publication.

  Previously published under the name of Susannah Burke is the romantic comedy ‘Dudes Down Under’. She has now discovered a passion for writing psychological thrillers. Enjoying the novelty of creating scenarios where characters are never quite what they seem to be. As a crime author she writes under the abbreviation of her name, S.Burke.

  When she isn’t writing she enjoys watching good movies both old and new, and entertaining her Grandson.