The Kristina Melina Omnibus: First Kill, Second Cut, Third Victim

by Laurent Boulanger

  ‘Easy to say, but I’m fighting this alone.’

  ‘What about your partner? What has he got to say?’

  ‘He wants to lay low for the time being. He thinks that if we get involved, we might be next on somebody’s death list.’

  David stared at me for a moment and said, ‘I haven’t known you for long, Kristina, but I know you want to catch this killer more than anything in the world. If he’d been my friend who’d been killed, I’d want to catch the killer as well. You do what you think is right. Don’t let them water down this investigation. You have to remain strong and level-headed. You know as well as I do that the odds can only make your stronger. You’ve got to do this not just because she was your friend, but because of everything you believe. That’s why you took on this case in the first place.’

  ‘I know, David, And I know you’re right. But sometimes, I wonder what’s it all about. Can one person really make a difference? At the end of the day is anyone going to notice? Does it really matter?’ I had no idea where all this negativity was coming from.

  ‘It only matters if you want it to matter,’ David went on. ‘That’s what life is all about. Caring about something. The moment you give up, you might as well not be living.’

  I puzzled over his comment for a few seconds. Was life really just a battle of will against fate and other people’s misdeeds?

  I spent another half hour with David, only to end up feeling guilty about sucking up his time just to make me feel better about my own existence. Although I would have loved to stay longer, I knew it wouldn’t be fair on him. He seemed to enjoy working in the bookshop, and if I’d stayed, he probably would have felt obligated to close for the day and entertain me.

  ‘You don’t have to go, really,’ David insisted, and I knew he meant every world of it.

  ‘I know I don’t,’ I said, ‘but I’ve got a lot of work to do. This investigation has taken most of my time, and I’ve got clients jumping up and down in regards to some work I was suppose to have finished weeks ago. I really need to clear up my schedule and my mind.’

  On my way back home, I was wondering how I was going to face Goosh. I knew I had to tell him what I had discovered because the only way I was going to find out what had happened to Evelyn Carter was to explore every avenue possible. I didn’t agree with Frank about putting Goosh on the back-burner. To me, it felt like it was easier to deal with things straight away rather then letting them simmer and increasing the chances of another disaster. And if it was indeed Goosh who was trying to jeopardise this investigation, then I knew he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

  The federal elections were only two weeks away, with both major parties promising GST or no GST, and some minor parties promising a white Australia or more lenient gun laws. I had had no time to put my thoughts around any of the issues being offered by the political parties. I would make up my mind at the last minute when it came to voting. Frankly, it all seemed like waste of time to me since I wondered how well-balanced a person could be by thinking him or herself capable of running an entire country.

  When I arrived home, Frank and Michael were waiting for me at the door steps. The sight of them nearly caused me a heart attack. Although I wasn’t exactly surprised to see Michael, I hadn’t expected to see the two of them together. It was almost as if they had conspired some evil plan, the way men seem to be doing when they get together.

  I parked the Excell in the driveway, just behind Frank’s Ford. I stepped out of the car and forced a smile. Anxiously, I paced towards the front door, my fingers gripping tightly my briefcase.

  ‘What up now?’ I asked in a tone which probably didn’t sound too friendly, which in a way seemed justified because of the way they were staring at me.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Frank began, giving me the impression that this was going to be a me-against-them type of situation. I wasn’t ready for it, and, for a spilt second, I considered telling them to buzz off and to leave me alone.

  But the look on Michael face seemed so desperate that all I said was, ‘Why don’t we go inside if we’re going to talk?’

  They both looked at each other and stood on their feet.

  I opened the door and feared the worse. What had I done this time? Had I turned into a worse mother than I already had been by not spending enough time with my son? Or maybe I was too harsh on him? Maybe he’d grown-up much more than I had noticed, and I wasn’t giving him enough room to move? Thoughts were running at a hundred miles an hour in my head. I had tried to keep my distance with Michael in the last few days, not only because he had asked me too, but because I wouldn’t have known what to do anyway. And every time I opened my mouth, the wrong words seemed to be coming out of it.

  ‘You guys want something to drink?’ I asked when we reached the kitchen. I wasn’t thirsty, and I gathered they weren’t either, but that was my way of getting ready for a joint verbal assault.

  ‘This is serious,’ Frank said as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

  ‘What?’ I said, looking at Michael instead. ‘Have I done something?’

  Michael rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘It’s nothing like that,’ Frank said. ‘Michael rang me up, and he was all worked up about you and him, and I drove over here, and he told me what was on his mind.’

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out for a few seconds. Frankly, I thought Michael never liked Frank, so it did take me by surprise.

  ‘Why didn’t you call me on my mobile?’ I asked Michael. ‘If something is wrong, you should know better than calling Frank at work.’

  ‘See what I mean,’ Michael said to Frank. ‘She’s talking like that all the time. What chance have I got?’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Frank said to Michael. Then to me: ‘You’re going to have to back off a bit. You’re driving him insane. I don’t think you’ve realised that he’s done a lot of growing up since last year, and he feels that you’re still treating him like a child.’

  An iron fist was stuck in my throat. How in the world did I end up in my own kitchen with those two clowns, and Frank telling me how to be a mother when he had no idea what it was like to have a child?

  And yes, as far as I was concerned Michael was still a child. He didn’t have a driver’s license, the right to vote, the ability to generate his own income, and the maturity to face issues head on.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I asked.

  ‘Kristina, this is not a you-against-us situation,’ Frank said.

  ‘No, so what is it? Why does my son need someone else to speak for him? I mean why you? Why not just get a lawyer and make it official? Why not take me to court and sue me for being a bitch?’

  ‘Kristina, you’re twisting everything around. Michael called me because he didn’t know how to handle you. He knows you act irrationally when it comes to you and him, so he spoke to me, hoping I would be able to mediate between the two of you.’

  I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Mediate? What? We’re going through a divorce or something? Jesus, Frank, why don’t you mind your own goddamn business?’

  He twisted his lips, obviously hurt. ‘Hey, I’m only trying to help here. Your son comes to me and asks me for help, what did you want me to do? Turn him down? Call you on the mobile and betray him? If you guys are having a problem, you should get it resolved as soon as possible. I’m fuckin’ tired of your bullshit!’ His tone of voice had gone up by a couple of notches.

  ‘Michael!’ I snapped, glaring at him straight in the eyes. ‘What in the world is wrong with you? I’ve done everything I can to make you happy. I’ve given you the freedom you wanted. I’ve stayed clear when you asked me to. What in the world do you want from me?’

  He stood there, not saying a word. There was pain in my voice, and he must have sensed it.

  ‘Mum, I don’t think you understand.’

  ‘Well, try me, you might be surprised.’

  And then he started to cry.

  Frank crossed his fingers e
mbarrassingly.

  I moved behind Michael and hugged him from behind while he was still sitting in his chair.

  ‘I love you, Michael,’ I said. ‘You know I love you, and I want to make things better for the two of us. You tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best to give it to you. All I want is for you to be happy,.’

  ‘I know...’ he sobbed. ‘I don’t know, mum. It hurts so much inside. I’m scared all the time.’

  ‘You can see someone if you want. The school principal has already told you that. You don’t have to keep it all inside. Talking to someone will help you to overcome your fears.’

  ‘I’m not a freak, I don’t want to see a psycho head. The other kids at school are going to make fun of me.’

  I wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘No one has to know, Michael. This is just between you and me.’ I glanced at Frank from the corner of my eye. ‘And Frank.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Michael said.

  ‘And people who go to see psychiatrists are not nut cases. They’re just having problems dealing with every day situations for one reason or another. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t know how the hell you can deal with all this by yourself. I think that’s the insane bit. You nearly got killed last year. You’re still suffering from post-traumatic shock. It’s not going to go away all by itself. I promise you will feel a lot better if you talk to someone.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  I turned around and faced him head on. ‘Why don’t you do this for the two of us. Try it for a couple of weeks, and if you don’t like it, then you don’t have to go any more.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, hesitating.

  ‘And remember,’ I added. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to. Do we understand each other?’ I tickled him in the ribs.

  A small laugh came out while he was still crying. ‘Okay. I love you, mum.’

  ‘I love you too, Michael.’

  Frank looked outside the kitchen window, one hand covering his face from embarrassment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I was on my way to the St Kilda Road Police Complex, fear taking over me as if I was someone having my last meal on death row. I drove over the West Gate Bridge, from which I had a vintage point of the entire city of Melbourne and its surrounding docks. The famous Crown Casino and the newly developed tourist-enticing Southbank river-side walk stood to my left, attracting thousands of Melburnians on weekdays as well as weekends. Five years ago, the city was dead. With a change in government, Melbourne had become one of Australia’s premium cities with the hosting of the Australian Grand Prix, the Australian Open and the forthcoming Paramount Film studios in the docklands.

  I exited the freeway at Princes Highway, drove straight up for a couple of kilometres, took a left turn, and slipped into St Kilda Road.

  After speaking at length with Frank the previous night, we concluded that if I wanted to confront Goosh, then it was up to me. He advised me against it at this stage. In spite of his well-intended recommendation, I knew I had no choice in the matter. After all I was in charge of the investigation, and so the finally decision rested on my shoulders. It wasn’t as if I could just walk away and feign ignorance. Either way, he would back me up, he said, but I shouldn’t be expecting him to get too involved. When it came to solving cases, he was willing to do anything, but inside politics and internal investigations were not in his line of expertise. Did he actually believe that they were in mine?

  All night, the apprehension of what I was about to do engulfed my nerves and paralysed my sense of reality. Tossing and turning, my mind and body were in a state of almost non-existence, as if I was floating on clouds. In spite of being aware that apprehension was nothing more than a state of mind, I couldn’t detach myself from the claustrophobic chains which made me doubt my own logic.

  But the next morning, as I drove down the West Ring Road and towards to the city centre, my fear was being taken over by anger. Why do people always fear the bad guys? Why is it that evil has such a power over us? The dark forces in our lives always seemed to be dominating righteousness in spite of our moral sense of truth and justice. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was following a logical chain of events based on the evidence I had found during the course of my investigation. I hadn’t pulled Goosh’s name out of the computer at random and tried to frame him. It just happened that he was involved in this case, and he’s left me no choice but to proceed in a manner which I believed to be diligent and virtuous. And if he was in fact responsible for the disappearance of Evelyn’s body, then I had every right to be angry.

  I parked the car in front of the St Kilda Road Police Complex, ignoring the red-and-white no-parking sign. Angry and anxious all at once, I stepped out of the car and slammed the door without locking it.

  As I made my way up the steps of the building, I took a deep breath, gathering in vain the nerve and courage I needed to confront the man who was the moving force and the spokesperson for the entire police community in the state of Victoria. Although I should have been used to face-to-face confrontations with Goosh, this time the stakes were higher - I was going to accuse him point blank that he was directly involved in a murder. Being a reasonably logical person, I would normally be able to anticipate the result of any confrontation. This time, however, I had no idea the depth of complication I was getting myself into. If this case did involve corruption at a high level, I knew my life would be in danger. But that was a chance I was willing to take, if not for myself, at least for Evelyn Carter who would never be able to fight for justice.

  After clearing myself with security, I passed the metal detector and headed for the elevator.

  One minute later, I was on the ninth floor of the St Kilda Road Police Complex.

  ‘Is he in?’ I asked Goosh’s secretary, a young strawberry-blond bimbo who seemed to be at his service for other things than administrative duties.

  ‘Have you got an appointment?’ she asked, pursing her lips as if I’d just swore at her. The contrast between her and me was like fire and water. I wore plain make-up and choose my clothes for comfort and appropriateness of a given situation. A business meeting required me to dress in the obligatory blouse, skirt or trousers, and matching jacket. Everything Goosh’s secretary wore was a come-on sign, from the ash-blond peroxided hair and the bright cherry lipstick, to the almost-see-through, flower patterned cotton dress and little white socks. Even though she looked in her mid-twenties, she dressed like a sixteen-year old who was wrestling with an overwhelming newly-found sexuality. She knew I thought she was cheap, even though I had never said a word to her. Call it women’s instinct if you wish.

  ‘It won’t take a minute,’ I said and aimed for his office door.

  ‘You’ll have to make an appointment,’ she protested.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid this is kind of urgent.’

  Not looking back, I knocked twice and, not waiting for an invitation, walked in.

  Goosh lifted his eyes up from some documents he was reading. His face was flushed, and his eyes expressed surprise.

  ‘Dr Melina?’

  ‘I need to talk to you right away.’

  He glanced at his diary and said, ‘Have we got a meeting of some sort?’

  ‘No, we haven’t, but this is rather important.’

  ‘Well, have you ever heard of the phone?’

  ‘It’s about the Evelyn Carter investigation.’

  ‘Include it in your progressive report.’

  I moved closer to his desk. ‘I think you’d might like to hear what I have to say before I include it in the report. This matter actually concerns you.’

  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. How in the world had I threatened him just by telling him I had important news for him regarding the Evelyn Carter investigation?

  ‘A beg your pardon?’ I said.

  ‘What do you
want from me?’

  The defensive attitude seemed ridiculous. Maybe he’d guess what I was here for. If he was in fact involved with the breaking in of Evelyn Carter’s apartment, then he knew there would have been always the chance that I was going to connect her death with him. The fact that he seemed to have been a client of her told me that he knew this conversation was going to take place sooner or later.

  ‘Okay, so I know about you and Evelyn Carter, and that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘You know what?’

  ‘Ah, come on, do you want me to spell it out for you?’

  He silently glared into my eyes for a few seconds, and followed this by a full minute of silence. I waited patiently for him to compose himself. He did a half turn and stared blankly out of his office window, overlooking St Kilda beach and the endless blue sea, which became one with the sky as far as the eye could see. I looked as well and realised that life was so simple - it was only humans who made it so complicated.

  Finally, he turned his attention back to me. ‘So what do you want?’

  ‘What do I want? Surely you have had enough time to anticipate this moment was going to take place. You’re going to tell me why your name was found in Evelyn Carter’s address book.’

  ‘What address book?’

  ‘You know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘I thought you couldn’t find that address book.’

  ‘Let’s just say I have for the time being. My point is still valid. Why was your name in her address book?’

  He stared at me for a few more seconds and picked up the telephone handset. ‘Take messages for the next half hour,’ he said into the receiver, ‘and cancel my four-thirty appointment with the Shadow Minister for Police and Emergencies, whatever the hell his name is.’ He slammed the receiver and turned back to me. ‘I have nothing to do with her death.’

  ‘I’m sure you don’t,’ I said matter-of-factly. ‘And I’ve never implied that you had. My main concern is that her apartment has been ransacked. Someone has been trying to get access to something they can’t find. My guess is that whomever that person was, he wanted to get his hands on the address book.’