I flipped over the cardboard outer of the file quickly, like tearing off a Band-Aid. I hoped that would make it less painful. It didn’t.
I began to read my school reports which were situated at the front of the file. The academics were not too bad, but the emotional stuff was disturbing. I hadn’t known it at the time but I was a train wreck waiting to happen.
Abandonment issues, anxiety, psychological solitary confinement.
The words jumped from the page, forming images in my mind of my childhood, things that had been long deep and buried in a place where they could not harm me anymore. Memories of sitting in that window, staring out at the old oak tree, wondering if I could jump from my window to the tree and make my escape.
I flicked past my school reports feeling they were of no benefit to my current conundrum, and then I found two pieces of paper stapled together, marked ‘confidential’ on the top. One seemed to be a police statement given by Mrs Stephenson, and the other, a hospital record.
I read the police report first.
On the 28th day of April, 1990, I attended the Queen Elizabeth Infirmary with one of the students in my care. Namely, Connor Donovan.
I had found Connor buried in soil at the Stony Brook Cemetery, after another of my pupils, Steven Harris ran to me, informing me that some of the other boys had buried him as a joke.
When I reached the cemetery, Connor’s body was limp and so I immediately called for an ambulance.
On talking to the boys involved I learned that Johnathon Maxwell had been the initiator of the prank and coerced the other boys into acting with him.
I am releasing Jonathon Maxwell into the care of the state, for interview, psychological analysis and if necessary, correction.
Margaret Stephenson.
Johnny Maxwell. The flashback in court. I had to really try hard to control my anger. The pieces of the puzzle that was my history were starting to come together, but I could not understand the relevance to me being left body parts. I started to read on, compelled by the mysteries of my youth.
Queen Elizabeth Infirmary 28th April 1990
Patient: Connor Donovan
Connor was brought into us at 3pm on the 28th of April, 1990. His airways were blocked and he had stopped breathing. He was dead on arrival.
Connor was resuscitated using a defibrillator which was successful on the second attempt.
Due to the lack of oxygen for an extended period of time, we have yet to establish the extent of any psychological or neurological damage that may have occurred, but at the moment, he is in stable condition.
Connor will need to be assessed regularly by his primary care giver to establish any long time physical or psychological damage that he may have sustained from the aforementioned event.
I died! I actually died. I staggered away from the table backward. I needed a drink. I poured myself a glass of my finest aged scotch and sat back at the table to read the next instalment. A psychology report. I found it a little sad that I had a shrink at 11 years old. I guess I was more screwed up than I thought.
Connor Donovan
Interim Psychological Analysis Report
Since the accident three months ago, Connor is displaying unusual behaviours.
His usual timid personality has been overridden by anger. He often lashes out on people and things and becomes frustrated very quickly when not in control of the situation.
His sleeping patterns are often disturbed and he regularly sleep walks. We have prescribed the appropriate medication to control this.
I recommend another assessment in 6 months to assess progress with weekly psychotherapy sessions in the meantime.
My knees felt weak and my heart was racing. I guess I owed more than I realized to Mrs Stephenson, for helping me through it all. It was not until now that I knew the extent of exactly what she had had to help me overcome. I flicked to the back of the file, not wanting to read anymore.
I could still not establish a connection between my past and my present, other than the one common denominator. Johnny Maxwell. A rogue then and a rogue now, not really the kind of person I wanted to be associated with, but whatever my feelings a prison visit seemed to be in order.
I didn’t have a visiting order and it wasn’t visiting hours, so I would have to use my capacity as a lawyer to get in. Arranging a visit to a prisoner who had committed a crime against a client of mine was no easy feat. Luckily, I had a befriended the man who worked at the desk with charm and small talk, after years of standing there signing release forms and other mundane paperwork.
And so I set off for the prison, on what was beginning to feel like a wild goose chase, but as wrong as it was, I had to admit that I was enjoying the hunt a little. Goose tastes quite good when served correctly…
Chapter 6
I arrived at the prison and after a little flirting with the girl at the desk and the go ahead from my friend Barry, the station clerk, I was led to an interview room to await this reconnect of my long lost school friend. I wasn’t sure what reaction I should expect from him, or if he would remember me, but I had to brace myself for every possibility.
After ten minutes or so he was led into the room and sat down at the other side of the table facing me. He was not cuffed, as he posed no threat to me. I was not really his type. I inwardly chuckled to myself at the joke I had made in my head.
I examined his face, not much had really changed. Older, uglier, a little fatter, but his eye’s still had that evil glint in them I had witnessed personally on that afternoon so many years before, and blatantly, the events of that day had had a profound effect on me as I still did not seem to rest very well at night.
“Can we make this quick?” He prompted, “They are having apple pie for dessert and I don’t want to miss it.”
“The worries of a prisoner really go deep, huh?” I said sarcastically, albeit a little cautiously; I knew what he was truly capable of.
“True.” He said. “Now, what is it you’d like me to do for you exactly, Connor?” His tone was deep and menacing, but had a sense of urgency, like he was trying to remain calm and get me out of there as soon as possible. His words confirmed that he knew who I was.
“I know who you are.” I was hedging my bets, hoping he would confess to sending me a festering foot in a box straight away so I could go back to my life.
“And who would that be?” He leaned in inquisitively. At this point I would be risking my career if I accused him of a crime in this manner, so I played along a little more.
“You buried me alive…” I croaked a little as the words came out. He smirked at me, showing his stained brown teeth.
“Ok, so you know who I am... But do you know who you are? I’d dare to bet that I know a hell of a lot more about you than you do,” his smug grin made me want to punch him in the face.
“I got your clue, I went to the school, and I got my records. If you had asked me that question yesterday, I would say no. I thought I knew, but I didn’t, but everything it seems have changed. Now I know.” My response was defensive. He looked at me, his face creasing up with a confused expression, like he was trying to remember something.
“Well you got what you wanted. I am in prison. I cannot tell anyone now. They wouldn’t believe a con anyway. Sorry about your leg by the way, it was only way I could get away.” His apology was not genuine, rather a gloat, but perplexing none the less. Now I was really confused.
“My leg? Tell anyone what? What are you talking about?” the questions fell from my mouth faster than I could think them up. He looked at me, and sat back in his chair, eyeing me up and down, weighing me up. It made me nervous.
“You don’t have a fucking clue do you?” he laughed. “Why are you here?” I leaned in to whisper to him so the guard outside could not hear what I was saying.
“I got the foot, and the fingers. I know it was you.” I felt stupid as he laughed loud and hard in my face.
“Think you better go and see that woman of yours, from th
e bar. Erm, Julia is it? You are wasting my time. Guard!” The officers came in and escorted Johnny out of the room. I sat there looking at the four clinical white walls coming in on me, wondering what the hell had just gone on.
Chapter 7
Julia Stone was a middle aged woman, who oozed sex appeal. Her long blonde hair, voluptuous curves, blood red lipstick and piercing blue eyes would lead you to take her for a lady in her early 30’s, but it wasn’t until you spoke to her that you realized she was as wise as someone twice her age. I had not discovered this until she became a witness for me in the case against me, because the night I met her, I was completely intoxicated. Not unusual for me, but it was lucky I met Julia on this night, or I could very well be in prison now, in the cell next door to Johnny flaming Maxwell.
She came forward as a witness when she read my story in the press. I was usually not much of a people person, the closest I ever came to a relationship was a string of one night stands, but the day she walked into the police station was the day I realized that sometimes, you need other people in your life.
I had not spoken to Julia since back during the time surrounding the case. So mustering up the courage to call her yet again, and asking her for help may very be the most terrifying thing I would ever do. I spend my days threatening the freedom of criminals, seducing women and apparently chasing murderers, yet none of those things made my heart beat as quickly as making this phone call.
I punched her name into my cell, and clicked the call button before I could back out.
“Hello handsome.” A sweet, yet confident voice answered.
“Hi Julia. Long-time no see, how are you?” Small talk was not really my forte and I think she could tell.
“Not bad, but I miss your company.” She said with a cute giggle. I realized I had in the short time I had known her become quite accustomed to that giggle.
“Could you meet me, maybe for coffee?” I proceeded cautiously; it was rare a woman would ever turn me down, but for some reason my usual charismatic, overly confident demeanour faded away in the presence of this woman.
“Of course. When?”
“Now? Georgios’?” Georgios’ was a great little Italian restaurant I had taken her to as a Thank You after my case was thrown out.
“Sure, see you soon.” She hung up before I had chance to say goodbye. I ventured back into the police station where I had been standing outside of to get a better signal, and collected my briefcase from the interview room before going to the bathroom to freshen up. I had had an adrenaline fuelled last couple of days, and it was starting to take its toll.
I looked at my face in the mirror, leaning on the sink in front of me. I was looking drained; small bags had appeared under my eyes and although my skin was dark, I looked pale. It was likely due to the fact that I had hardly eaten anything over the past couple of days. I turned on the cold water and splashed some water onto my face before drying it off with a paper towel.
Gathering my belongings and my thoughts along with them, I walked out of the bathroom and the building, and called for Sam to take me to Georgio’s.
Chapter 8
Sam picked me up outside the police station a few moments later; he had luckily been in the area.
“Unusual to hear from you this time of day.” He smiled as I clambered into the cab.
“Yes, I have an appointment, well, sort of a date I suppose, actually. Can you take me to Georgios’?”
“Course. Who’s the lucky lady? That gorgeous woman from the other night? Julia was it?” I hadn’t fully taken in his question before I had begun to answer.
“Yes Julia…” I trailed off, when his words hit my slightly sluggish mind. “Wait, the other night?”
“Yeah, you know, you asked me to pick you both up from the bar on 4th and to take you to the club. You had somehow hurt your leg, remember?” I didn’t, but in the interest of not looking crazy I played along.
“Oh yes, sorry Sam, it’s been a long day!” I frantically searched the depths of my mind, the deepest darkest corners where the secrets and guilty pleasures are hidden from the world.
“You’re a lucky man, you should hang onto her, and she tipped me double what you normally do!” he said winking at me. I laughed, but due to nerves it came out as more of a squeak than a laugh.
I sat in the car quietly for the rest of the journey trying to piece it all together; the foot, the farm, the school, Johnny, Sam, and Julia. I just could not find a logical explanation, I could not even find a connection between them all. I was the most accomplished lawyer I know, and yet I could not piece this together. Someone had to be setting me up. It was the only logical explanation.
Johnny could not have sent the foot; he was in court that morning. Which left Julia and Sam, but neither of them met the profile of a killer, nor did I want to think either of them were capable of that, they were dear sweet people. It just didn’t add up. I decided to reserve any judgement until after I had seen Julia.
Chapter 9
Shortly afterwards, the car pulled up outside Georgios’. I paid Sam and gave him a large tip, his guilt trip about Julia paying better had worked. For the first time ever, I looked at Sam in a suspicious light as I left the cab. This was something I would never have imagined doing, but as soon as he smiled at me with his cheeky grin, I shook the notion from my head. Sam was the closest thing I had to a friend. How could I think that way of him?
“Might call you later” I commented as I walked away from the cab and walked towards the doors of the restaurant. When I entered the restaurant, Julia was already sitting at the bar waiting for me, looking incredible as usual. Her long silky leg teased passers-by as it peeked from the slit in her black leather skirt and ended at the floor, in a black stiletto. She was the essence of elegance. She knew she looked good and thrived on the admiring glances from every man in the room, and some of the women.
She had one eye on her drink, probably to ensure no-one came close enough to spike it (Georgios’ wasn’t in the most desirable part of town), and one on the door looking for me, so she spied me as soon as I walked into the joint.
Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she made her way over to me, flinging her arms around my neck and giving me a peck on the cheek. I reciprocated in order not to offend her, or perhaps it was because I wanted to, but I would have never have admitted that to myself fully.
“I thought you’d never call.” She said smiling at me, more with her eyes than her lips, but her lips were mesmerizing nonetheless.
“The other night seems like a lifetime ago.” There it was again; the mention of the night I cannot recall. I was either losing my mind, or this was all some massive plot to make me think I was. Either way it was not good. My paranoia was growing out of control.
At that point we were interrupted by the restaurant concierge.
“May I show you to your table?” He asked. I gave him a nod and a smile, following him through the restaurant to a table next to the window, strategically planning my next comment that would shed light on the situation without making me sound like a mad man. I didn’t need to. Julia opened the conversation without any prompt from me.
“How is your leg?” she asked, showing genuine concern in her eyes and her tone. This was my opening to find out exactly how that happened.
“A little sore. I guess the alcohol that night must have helped.” I was making an educated guess there was alcohol involved that night as Sam mentioned that I had asked him to take us to a club.
“Without a doubt, it helps with most things right?” her laugh was infectious and I found myself laughing along with her despite the sinister nature of my investigations.
“Who was that, the guy you were chasing when you bumped into me?” Now we were getting somewhere, although she clearly did not know who Johnny was.
“Johnny Maxwell. He is the perpetrator in one of my cases.” I responded, I wasn’t going to lie to her, but I would only tell her as much as I felt appropriate.
“I
saw the scuffle, what were you fighting over? It’s a shame he got away but after he cut your leg you had no chance of catching him.” Johnny seems to have sent me to Julia on a wild goose chase; she only knows what he’d already told me. I found myself disappointed but decided just to enjoy her company in the meantime.
“Oh, I guess I got my work and personal life tangled up. I’d had a drink and I was angry at him for what he had done to my client. He’s in prison now, so it’s fine. He has paid one way or another.” At least I now knew what happened to my leg, but why had I been fighting with Johnny in the first place? None of it made any sense.
“It’s nice to see you during the day.” She beamed. “I only ever usually see you at night. You look even better in the daylight.” I was flattered, but confused all over again.
Duplicity Page 3