by Ink Blood
*~*~*
*VI*
In the back of the patrol vehicle, unshielded from the sun, Martin sat quietly. He wasn’t sitting watching the scenery passing by nor was his replying to any of the conversations the officers were trying to make. Instead he sat staring at his hands folded in his lap. He’s sweating but not from the heat, because he’s nervous.
His tightly wrapped hands were over each other, tightly and hot. He felt the heat in them. Sweat dampened his palms. Finally his hands turned white and cold, and they were shaking now. The darkness will come for him. It won’t be this hot and bright forever. Soon the sun would fade, leaving a space for the darkness to come through. If his home soon he would be safe from an unexpected attack from the darkness he feared more than Janet.
Martin started to shiver as the thought of him exposed ran through his mind. Maybe the darkness won’t attack him or even come close, knowing there was too many people around. This could be a hidden blessing. They have nothing on him. He would be home soon and the first chance he gets he‘ll be on the road to where ever it took him.
Martin throws his head back and closed his eyes. He remained still for a while then looked at the two officers in front of him. He forced a smile and looked down again.
“Does anyone of you have some painkillers I have a headache that’ll kill me before we get to town.”
“No sorry, would you like me to stop at the drugstore?” The driver asked.
“That’s fine I left my wallet at home. Had to leave in a rush, I’m sure you can understand that. Can’t you make a plan, what’ll you tell your boss if I die in your custody?”
“Nobody’s ever died from a headache.” The one officer corrected.
“No they didn’t, but they did because of them going crazy and ballistic from the pain.” Martin said and threw his head back.
Martin wasn’t joking. His head felt really beaten.
He needed to have a sober mind when he wanted to flee in the early hours of the morning. He heard the vehicle on the property again, just before dawn and decided to hide the vehicle behind the house. Later while having breakfast he had decided to make haste retreat and the vehicle ended in a ditch. He managed to get the vehicle out but for some reason it wouldn’t start. He was still in the backyard in the freedom of the bright light of the sun trying to fix a problem he couldn’t see.
The darkness couldn’t reach him so it did the next best thing. It had reached into the deepest parts of the country and had brought the one thing he did not fear. It brought Andrew to his doorstep.
*~*~*
*VII*
Andrew leaded Martin down the passage towards the holding cells at Frank’s office. He didn’t want to think too much. He felt sorry for Martin, not for what he did but for the state he was in, although he didn’t want to show it. He started to doubt himself wondering if Martin really had something to do with what happened.
Andrew shook the doubt out of his mind. He had the proof that Martin did everything he suspected him of. Soon he’ll crush his so called proof of an accident and show that it wasn’t Janet and Christopher that had perished. These deaths were just convenient for him and he had claimed it as his own. How could he proof it, if a woman and child died in the accident, if it happened? He had much to do and only forty eight hours to do it in. If he failed it meant he had to release Martin and then he’d never find again.
Andrew reached the holding cells. He stopped in front of a single cell with a bunk bed and a small basin and toilet. There was nothing else in the cell and no one shared it with Martin. At least he had time to think about the situation he was in. Maybe the next time they spoke he would be a little clear minded.
“Sorry Martin, but you know the drill. I need you to stay here while I contact Dayton Police to check out your story. I‘ll be back for you soon.” Andrew said and waited for Martin to enter before he closed the door.
Martin glanced at Andrew and smiled. He was taunting him and believed that he had the upper hand. Andrew just frowned at him. Martin wiped his fingers across the bars, showing that the cell wasn’t bothering him, but it did. More so he was now alone and cornered like the rat he felt he was.
“Please could you send someone down here with some painkillers for me? I promise I will be a good boy.” Martin smiled again.
“Sure.” Andrew said and walked away.
On the way out of the cell area Andrew met with an officer and asked him to collect tablets for Martin and something nonalcoholic to drink. He continued to Frank’s office and looked around. He was nowhere in sight.
“If the sheriff’s looking for me, please tell him I’d gone to the bed and breakfast and then to the diner.” Andrew informed the office woman sitting at one of the desks.
“I’m sure you might find him there, when he disappears out of the blue he’s usually at the diner.” She informed and continued her work.
“Thanks.”
Andrew headed for the door when he noticed Frank coming out of the men’s room and headed down the passage towards him. “Is the suspect tucked into bed?”
“Yes, as snug as a bug.”
“You’re not going to get weird on me, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the way you’re looking at him. I can see it in your eyes even now.”
“What, I don’t have a clue what you mean?” Andrew asked lifting his shoulders.
Frank said. “You feel sorry for him. Don’t believe he did it, do you?”
“I know he did it, it’s just after all the years it’s hard just to treat him cold like he deserves. I know he wouldn’t have done this deliberately.”
“Then why is he still covering his tracks?”
“Is he?” Andrew asked unsure.
“You have forensic proof over those bogus papers he had given you. If you ask me we cut to the chase and get a court order to open those so called graves.”
“It’s not a bad idea, but that’ll take a while. And the judge would probably insist on us checking out this accident first.”
“If I were you I’d take a little drive. Just a short distance, say fifty something miles. Do it personally and check out the hospital. That’s where they took all the victims. Not that I‘m trying to tell you what to do. I’m sure you’ve already thought of that.” Frank suggested smiling.
He slapped Andrew on the shoulder that he stepped forward just to keep his balance.
“You must be good. You read my mind.”
Frank said. “You know what. I can’t help for the friends I have, even if he happens to be the town judge.” He lifted his eyebrow and took the case file out of Andrew’s hands. “Could I borrow this till you get back? My friend might be a judge but his dreadfully fare.”
“Sure I only need the accident report and the death certificates.” Andrew extracted them from the file.
“Despite all you still need to do, why don’t you and that lovely woman that came with you, join me for lunch at the diner? It’s such a lovely homely place.”
“Sure I am sure we’ll meet you there.”
*~*~*
*VIII*
After lunch Helen and Andrew left the small town and drove to Dayton. They had no trouble finding the police precinct mentioned in the accident report and found the police officer that had obviously called on Martin.
The officer seemed confused about who Martin was. He couldn’t recall the accident either. This didn’t sit too well with Andrew. Does an accident of this nature happen so often? Could it fade from thought and memory once the day ended? The accident happened last. Although it felt to Andrew that no one remembered it.
Andrew showed him the report in an attempt to jolt his memory. He waited while he read through it thoughtfully. The police officer told him about the accident relating to the report. The accident he remembered seemed to be different from the one Andrew described and shows him the vehicle involved.
Andrew took some snapshots of the vehicle from different angles includi
ng the license plate and left the precinct.
Arriving at the hospital he had just as a hard time as at the police precinct. The doctor thought him to be crazy but did confirm that he had signed the death certificates. He didn’t recall leaving out the name. The doctor informed him that he moved the bodies to the morgue after the husband identified them when he arrived. He recalled that he completed the names on the certificate.
The signed document Martin gave Andrew had his name on it, but he didn’t sign it. According to the doctor someone stole stationery from his desk about a week ago. He didn’t think too much of it. The completed documents where signed by who knows who trying to pass it off as legitimate papers.
Clearly someone wrote the names if at a later stage. This would explain everything. Martin had found someone to steel the papers off the doctor’s desk. With the real accident they, collected the documents with the correct information then just completed the names once Martin paid for the stolen documents. This explained why no one recalled the events that Andrew described.
Andrew was even more confused by the time he reached the morgue. The pathologist pulled the file on the already cremated bodies. His report and autopsy matched that of the accident report but it didn’t match the death certificate.
He copied the report and left the hospital. He hurried out of the hospital with renewed hope. Now he had Martin just where he wanted him. Martin could try as hard as wanted. He wouldn’t stand a chance in a court of law. He was ready to take him back to Hazy View. There he would pay for his crime.
Andrew and Helen drove back to the Sheriff’s office three and a half hours later with far less words as they had spoken on their journey to Dayton. Andrew surrendered all emotions towards Martin. He focused his mind on proving that he had murdered his family, weather he remembered it or not.
He had killed them brutally according to the forensic report and tried to conceal it. He was aware of what he did when he dumped their bodies. Now he‘ll crush him like a bug on the bottom of his shoe. He’ll walk into Hazy View with his head high and shock all the residents that might stand up for Martin.
*~*~*
*IX*
Andrew was angry for wasting time but more so for falling for Martin’s antics. Now he sat in the interrogation room with the case files in front of him. Frank and Helen sat in a jointing room only separated by a two-way mirror recording the interrogation. Two officers left to collect Martin from the holding cells and were on their way back.
Andrew sat at the table smoking and sipping on a cup of coffee. Martin entered and sat at the other end. Beside the table and four chairs there’s nothing in the room. The officer took a chair to the corner in view of the hidden cameras.
“Martin, why don’t we stop these games of yours and you start telling me the truth.” Andrew started.
Martin looked up at him confused.
“What games?”
“Why don’t you start by telling me what happened to Janet and Christopher?”
“I told you there was an accident.” Martin started and paused.
“Yes. I know there was an accident, terrible what happened to that poor mother and child. What made you believe that it was your wife and son?”
“The police officer told me they tracked her to me.”
“How did they manage that?” Andrew asked.
“They said that they tracked me through her vehicle registration.”
“They didn’t use her license registration?”
“No, they got the address off the vehicle’s registration.”
Andrew opened the file and removed four postcard size photos of the vehicle crushed by a runaway truck. The vehicle was too badly damaged. It was difficult to believing that anyone made it out alive.
“It was really sad about the mother and child.”
“What are you getting at?” Martin felt annoyed with the cat and mouse game.
“Did you ever go to identify the bodies?”
“Yes.” Martin started weeping softly.
“Did you see the vehicle?”
“No. I didn’t want to.” He admitted.
“When you went to identify the bodies, did you look at them?”
“Of course I did. Do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” Martin got up but the officer in the corner swiftly seated him.
“No, but this’ll continue until you tell me the truth.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” Martin protested.
“Let’s concentrate on the child for just a moment.”
“What about Christopher?” Martin looked hard at Andrew.
“Christopher is now what five years old?”
“Yes, your point is?”
“The child that had died in the accident was about eight or nine, according to the doctor’s report.”
“Well the doctor was wrong.” Martin said protesting against the information.
“Fine, then the doctor was wrong, it happens. Let’s look at the vehicle.”
Martin picked up the photos and looked at it. His hand started to shake and he wept softly again. He dropped the photos on the table and placed his hands over his face and cried louder.
Andrew waited for a few minutes after Martin failed to control himself, he and added. “That isn’t Janet’s vehicle. Hell it isn’t even close.”
Martin stopped crying but didn’t speak.
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What happened to Janet and Christopher?”
“There was an accident like I told you.” Martin insisted.
“Yes Martin there was, but Janet and Christopher wasn’t in the vehicle. They didn’t die in this accident. The people that died were Asian. What happened to them?” Andrew slammed his hands hard on the table, causing a banging sound that rang through Martins mind.
“If they didn’t die, then they must still be alive.” Martin seemed excited.
“Who did you bury in those graves on your property?”
“Janet and Christopher...” Martin said and instantly he wept again.
“A few seconds ago you told me that they were still alive, where are they?”
“Where’s who?”
Andrew was more angry then annoyed. Martin’s fixated on the idea that Janet and Christopher died in an accident. No matter how much evidence Andrew through in front of him he still seemed to weep for them. Either Martin’s truly convinced of the accident or he was playing more games to confuse Andrew. He was not going to feel sorry for him anymore. Now it was a clear case of murder and weather he remembered it or not he would continue to build a case against him. What was he trying to do proof, insanity?
Andrew was silent. He looked at Martin, reading his expression.
Finally Andrew asked. “You know what’s going to happen now?”
“What, you’re going to tickle me under the feet with a feather until I tell you what you want to know?” Martin asked smiling coldly.
“We’re all going out to your house and we’re going to open those graves and I’ll show you that whoevers buried there isn’t Janet and Christopher.”
“You’re going to disturbed them?” Martin asked surprised.
“There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“I will fight it in court.” Martin was angry.
“It’s already too late for that.” Andrew collected the photos and files and stood up.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I already have a court order. You can come with or stay, it means the same to me.”
Andrew headed for the door.
The officer stepped forward and handcuffs Martin before leading him out the door and down the passage to the street.
*~*~*
*X*
Andrew, Helen and Frank were already in the cruiser when the two officers came out with Martin. Three vehicles left and follow Frank the three miles to the old Holloway farm. Martin was in the third vehicle under police watch. Slow
ly the convoy of vehicles snaked along the dirt road and onto the property. The trip once again felt like it took too long for the short distance they had to travel. They continued pass the house into the backyard.
Before the group made their way through the long grass they took equipment from the trunk.
The officers stripped out of their uniform shirts to keep it clean. They shoveled ground away from the homemade graves. The sun was still hot and sweat ran freely down their skin. Helen didn’t take any offense to their appearance. She wanted to jump in and help to dig. Martin sat on the ground sobbing with the two sheriffs standing guard over him.
Hours passed and the digging was becoming tiresome. Helen refreshed the men with bottled water, bought earlier. The men was making turns digging.
The more the men dug, Martin begged for them to stop. His plea fell on deaf ears. His sobbing did nothing to help his cause. Finally he grew quiet and he mumbled softly. “Sorry honey, they don’t want to listen.”
Hours after starting the digging on the two graves the one team hit something hard inches under the ground. They buck down on their hands and knees. They swept away as much sand as they could to reveal a homemade wooden box about four feet into the grave. The box’s loosened and lifted before it’s placed on the edge of the hole. It didn’t take long to discover another small box and lift it out. Now laying side by side the two boxes’ opened and photographed, starting with the larger of the two.
The box was empty.
They open the second.
Empty.
Not bothering with formalities and niceties Andrew knelt down in front of Martin. Andrew pointed at the homemade boxes still looking at him.
“Why don’t you tell the truth now? You can now see that there’s nothing in the boxes. Why don’t you stop tormenting yourself?”
Martin said nothing.
An officer stood by with a camera recording the excavation. Martin might claim that they tampered with the boxes. He now turned the camera on Andrew as he continued the questioning.
“Do you mind if I told you what happened?”