Hear Me

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by Julia North


  Elsa sits silently in thought for a few seconds before nodding. ‘You’re right. I saw her two days before. I’d also have known.’ She turns to Nat with a cynical smile. ‘We saw it often enough, didn’t we? She just needed to have one drink and I knew.’

  ‘Do you think Karlos encouraged her to drink that night? Maybe it was the first time since rehab …’

  ‘I don’t know … he could’ve talked her into it … he’s also an alcoholic. Perhaps he was craving some, I don’t know. I guess it would explain the empty whiskey bottle Eunice found.’

  ‘Maybe, you’re right,’ says Nat.

  ‘All I know is that we need to find out a lot more about Karlos before I let him get his grubby paws on Lissa’s money,’ says Elsa, ‘My intuition’s always proved correct in the past. I don’t see why it should be any different now.’ Elsa stabs the key in the ignition and the BMW purrs to life. ‘I think I need that drink. Let’s go.’

  I watch them drive off with a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Deep inside I know that I’ve just experienced a vision both of heaven, and the reason for my death. Elsa’s intuition is right. And I know why I’m back. My sisters are right. I wasn’t drinking, despite the empty bottle and the stink of alcohol on my pyjamas. Someone tried to make it look that way and that someone is the shadowy figure from the vision we’ve just shared. I need to find out who the hell he is. But first I have to somehow get Nat and Elsa away from suspecting Karlos. They’ve been biased against him from the start, but they need to know it can’t be him. There was nothing in Karlos’ behaviour that would ever suggest he’d want to harm me – if anything, he couldn’t do enough for me. We were so happy. We hardly ever disagreed about things, never even had an argument. I know he loved me, truly loved me. Even when I was in hospital, he looked so broken by it all. Karlos went to the gym at five every morning, so it wasn’t as if he’d suddenly left early on that day. If there was someone plotting to get me, all they would’ve needed was to watch the house for a few days to know when I’d be alone. We’re creatures of habit even though we think we’re not, and that makes it easy for any would-be perpetrator.

  Nic stalked me. Had I ever told Nat or Elsa? I shake my head in irritation. No, I’d only ever mentioned it to Karlos. I don’t think they’d even remember who Nic was, even if I somehow could bring his name into their minds. But how could he have given me anything? How could he get into my house, and why kill me and not Karlos if he was really stalking me? My mind jumps to a picture of Alison’s pale, pinched face. She hated me because I’d taken Karlos away from her, or so she thought, poor girl. Who knows what went on in her sad head. Maybe the shadow man is a she rather than a he? I shake my head. No, she might have wished it, but I don’t think she’d be able to do anything given her high level of anxiety. But it had to be someone who knew I had a drinking problem – otherwise why would they have made it look like I’d been drinking? Wolf? Hattie? Those scum would certainly fit the bill, but they’d have had to pour more than one bottle of whiskey down my throat to cause the type of fitting I had, and how could they have done that? No, it’s got to be a poison, but how did my killer give it to me? How?

  Chapter 29

  I will myself to calm. I have to think rationally and find out exactly what caused my fitting. It’s got to be some kind of drug or poison. My first thought is to find a medical dictionary which lists substances that might cause seizures. I hadn’t taken any prescription drugs at Shaloma and I know Karlos didn’t. We both hated anti-depressants and tranquillisers; he said he’d had a breakdown once when coming off a Prozac derivative and never touched anything after that. Wolf’s ugly face with its blackened teeth rises up in my mind. He said he’d had a breakdown coming off Valium. It could quite possibly be him and Hattie using some drug they had, maybe even an illegal one. I remember Karlos saying he’d heard they’d squandered their money in less than a month and were living in some squat down Point Road. Neither of them liked us. They could’ve been looking for money? Drug-fuelled crazies did things like that when they needed a fix. Elsa had been angry because Hattie and two men wanted to visit me in hospital. Why would they come? Wolf must’ve been one … Nic, Gruesome George – he was also a dark horse. There wasn’t much love between me and George, although Karlos got on okay with him. I remember Dr Brink asking him about his Trithapon, so he was taking medication, but that doesn’t mean he would’ve killed me. We hardly spoke to each other, although he did come to my funeral for some strange reason, so I can’t rule him out.

  My mind spins with unanswered questions, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it’s got to be those drug-crazed, evil stuff-ups. I think back to the blank prescription from our long-dead Dr Clark which was left on Nat’s car. Is someone helping from the other side, giving us a clue? Was it some prescription drug? But why leave it blank? Why didn’t they just list what it was if they really want to help? There are thousands of poisons out there. How am I going to find out unless they exhume my body and test it, and that’s not an option.

  I think back to the lab and all the testing we did for toxins. Tricyclic anti-depressants cause convulsions if the dose was high enough. There were hundreds of them on the market. I remember the sad cases of fatalities of children who ingested them like sweets after fishing through their mother’s handbags – we are such a pill-dependent society and doctors dole them out far too easily. I think back to my studies. An overdose of an anti-depressant affects the autonomic nervous system, as well as the central one and even the heart. You need a high dosage, but they definitely can cause seizures serious enough to cause the type of damage I had. Damaged people are full of irrational hate. They have no morals or conscience. It has to be one of them. Why else would anyone want to harm me and make it look like I’d been drunk?

  I think back to that last night in the hospital. Dr Rajeet thought I was on the road to a long life. Did one of them come back to the hospital in the middle of the night to finish off their failed murder plan? It was a Tuesday night, and Karlos went to the meeting. I’m sure they would’ve asked about me and he could’ve told them I was going to Hillcrest Hospital the next day. It would be quite easy for them to creep into King Edward’s in the middle of the night. No-one would have questioned them because they were white and anyway the nurses didn’t monitor who came or went. It’s not impossible.

  I shake my head. I can’t explain the fitting but if I think about it rationally, the most likely explanation would be that my death in King Edward’s was a medical mishap. I let out a dark laugh. There’re certainly enough of those covered up in the medical world. But at the same time there’s got to be some point to me coming back. If one of those scum tried to kill me by somehow forcing alcohol and poison into my veins, then they deserve to be punished. Perhaps if I can find them and see what they’re up to I’ll get my answer, but how to make the first move? The blank prescription and these shared dreams and visions show that someone is helping from the other side, and I have to trust they’re someone on the right side of the light.

  Chapter 30

  Elsa takes out a folded paper from a large brown envelope and pushes it towards Thabo. ‘His name’s Karlos Beukes. He was a patient with Liss at the rehab and hooked up with her afterwards. That’s all we really know about him. He was apparently a farmer from the Greytown area.’

  I should’ve known this would happen. How will we ever find the truth behind my death if they only focus on Karlos?

  ‘You really think he’s got something to do with her death?’

  Elsa shrugs. ‘I just don’t trust him. I don’t like him …’

  Thabo comes from behind the desk and puts his arm around Elsa’s shoulder. ‘I know it’s hard. It’s been such a tragic time. What did the hospital list as the cause of death?’

  ‘Her heart stopped,’ murmurs Elsa ‘… but that doesn’t mean something didn’t cause it. You know what things are like up there, it’s complete chaos. Karlos could easily have given her something.’ E
lsa’s face is screwed up with anger as she spits out the words.

  Thabo looks down at her with concern etched deep into his brown eyes.

  Elsa brushes trembling fingers across her forehead before going on. ‘I’ve had a long think about everything. Both Nat and I saw Lissa frequently; she wasn’t drinking. For her to suddenly fit like that just doesn’t make sense. I know I probably sound a bit hysterical, but I just can’t shake off this feeling that something’s not right about her death.’

  ‘There’s so many weird things happening,’ says Nat. ‘Eunice said she needed a donation, both Els and I had a vision of some shadowy man attacking her … I keep sensing Liss and smelling her perfume …’

  ‘Shh, Nat,’ Elsa says. ‘Let’s keep it rational please.’ She turns to Thabo. ‘Liss made him a major beneficiary in her Will. She revised it three weeks before her death. If for no other reason, that merits we investigate him. It gives him a prime motive to want her gone.’

  Thabo’s eyes are narrowed in thought. He turns to Elsa and pats her arm like a father soothing a child. ‘Okay, I’ll ask Mannie Govender at CR Swart to look into him. He’s chief detective up there and owes me a favour.’ Thabo turns to Nat. ‘Did you make a donation?’

  Nat nods. ‘We went with Eunice. They threw it in. I waited on the bank.’

  Thabo purses his lips. ‘And you’ve sensed her?’

  Nat nods and looks at him with wide eyes. ‘A few times.’

  ‘I think you’re right. We need to look into this Beukes more carefully. I’ll get Mannie on the case pronto.’

  ‘Thanks, Thabo. We appreciate it.’ Elsa places her hand on his arm to give it a squeeze. She pushes back her chair.

  I follow them out of Thabo’s office with a mixture of irritation and affection. I know they’re doing this out of love, but they’ve got to stop being so blind and biased about Karlos. If they thought about it more rationally as Elsa keeps advocating, they’d realise his feelings for me were genuine.

  ‘At least Thabo’s more in touch with the supernatural,’ says Nat, giving Elsa a sideways glance as they step out into the humid air. ‘He believed me.’

  Elsa pulls a face. ‘I’m not going to argue about that. Let’s just hope this Govender will help.’

  Nat nods. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’ She heads over to her Honda.

  Elsa gets into her BMW and slams the driver’s door shut. She sits with both hands clasped around the steering wheel before she lets out a long sigh and drops her head forward onto the wheel. I ease myself in next to her, wishing I could just communicate, tell her not to worry, that it’s okay, I’m here and I’ll find out the truth. It doesn’t have to all rest on her shoulders any more, it really doesn’t.

  Her head jerks away from the steering wheel. She turns to stare wide-eyed at the empty passenger seat where I’m sitting. Her nostrils flare and she lifts her wrist to her nose to sniff it, before wiping it across her nose. She screws her face up in a picture of pained concentration. I smile at her detection of my scent. She can smell my perfume just like Nat, but I don’t think her rational mind can deal with it. I lean towards her. ‘Elsa,’ I whisper directly into her waiting ear, ‘it’s me. Can you hear me?’ I wait for her reaction but she remains frozen. It’s no good. Elsa sits for a few more seconds in the thick silence, broken only by the distant roar of the passing traffic. She lets out a shuddering sigh and swings the engine into life.

  Chapter 31

  I’m outside Shaloma and for the first time it’s somewhere I’ve really wished I could be. I move with ease though the warm night. The humid air, thick with the sweet smell of damp vegetation and the happy chirruping of the night crickets, is soothing. I look up at the glittering expanse of the night sky. The richness and beauty of an African night is hard to beat. I trace the Southern Cross and Sirius, the Dog Star. Even as a child I loved to scan the night skies for those special stars. I remember lying in the darkness on the cool, damp grass of the caravan park at Dragon’s Peak with Dad, Nat and Elsa, and all four of us trying to pinpoint the constellations. Thankfully Dad pointed them out. When he died I’d looked up at that host of stars and cried out to him that I loved him, missed him, and yearned for him every day.

  I reach the familiar white walls and edge around the building until I’m directly outside Dr Brink’s office. I move into his darkened room with a feeling of power and control. There’s something to be said for not being bound in space when you’re trying to find your killer. I push my hand through the aluminium drawer of the filing cabinet and push apart the atoms forming the lock. The drawer clicks forward and I sift through the files one by one. Valium is listed on Wolf’s and Methadone on Hattie’s. I run my fingers down the page of Nic’s records and lift my eyebrows: Prozac for anxiety and depression – he hid that well. His ravaged face at my funeral comes back into mind. He did look genuinely upset. Maybe I need to give him the benefit of the doubt? My gut feeling is he’s not my enemy and I don’t even dislike him any more, but still I won’t rule him out altogether. I’ll just put him at the bottom of the list.

  I pick up George’s file. The Trithapon Dr Brink spoke of is listed. I frown as I read the name. Thinking back, I’m sure that’s not a tranquilliser, I’m sure it’s a neuroleptic drug. Maybe George is psychotic? He was always so quiet. I hardly spoke to him although he used to watch me a lot with his lizard eyes, but most of the time he just faded into the shadows like Alison. Pity they didn’t get together. They suited each other. Although I think she obviously fancied Karlos. Poor girl, she probably misread the signals when he was just being kind.

  I close my eyes and draw up memories of George. I see him again sitting on the leather couch clutching a cup of tea, his pockmarked face pale and drawn, the jawline jerking and his tongue peeking in and out like a gecko’s. I should have picked up on the fact that there was more of a mental illness aura around him rather than just alcoholism, especially with that tongue. I should’ve twigged as soon as Dr Brink mentioned the Trithapon. I don’t know why I didn’t. Still waters run deep, and it’s true. It’s often the quiet ones who you have to watch the most.

  Did George secretly harbour a hatred for me? Did I resemble someone in his past that he wanted revenge on? If he’s psychotic he could easily have had delusions about me, or even Karlos, and want in some way to harm us. As a neuroleptic drug, Trithapon is likely to cause serious fitting, especially with an overdose. I need to find out what George is doing now, and Hattie and Wolf for that matter. Who knows, maybe she turned Wolf onto heroin as well? You can’t get much lower than squatting in Point Road and craving for your fix. I can’t rule them out.

  I look back through George’s file. I need to see if his doctor has the name Clark, then the blank prescription would make some kind of sense. I run my finger down the page. The doctor’s name is listed as Dr Bond; first name James, no doubt. Is that really his doctor or is he lying? I scan again through Nic’s, followed by Hattie’s and Wolf’s. None of them have a Dr Clark listed. I pick up Karlos’ file. My chest contracts and a dull pain edges itself across my chest. It feels so strange looking through pages from his life before me. There’s no doctor listed. The only medical establishment given is Greytown Hospital. That makes sense. He said he’d been a mess and not wanting to see anyone before he was admitted, so it stands to reason he wouldn’t have had a regular doctor. No drugs are listed other than alcohol.

  I find the weekly meeting record. Karlos is missing from all of them other than the one on the night of my death. My heart sinks, and I hope he’s not drinking again. He needs to sense my presence, smell me like Nat and Elsa can. If he can just grasp the fact I’m still here maybe it’ll help him cope with the pain. I read through the rest of the attendance record. Hattie and Wolf are missing from the last three weeks, but George is still going regularly, so is Nic. There’s someone called Mike on the list now. Won’t it be poetic justice if it’s bastard old boyfriend Mike, but I guess that’s being a little too hopeful? Alison it appears is still
an inmate, even though she attends the meetings. Her pale face rises like a sick moon in my mind. Poor girl! I wonder if she’ll ever reach the recovery stage?

  Chapter 32

  Elsa and Nat sit stiff-backed across from Inspector Mannie Govender as he filters through the files littered across his desk. He pulls one out from the bottom, untidy writing scrawled along the side in black marker pen. Melissa Windsor – deceased. The cheap brown cardboard cover is so ugly, like an insult to have documents about my life filed away in that.

  ‘There’s no way we could exhume her body without proper evidence,’ Inspector Govender says in a measured tone, almost irritated at having to investigate what he so clearly believes is a no-win case, purely as a favour to Thabo.

  Elsa looks directly at him with hard eyes. ‘I’m aware of that. What does her file say?’

  Inspector Govender frowns at Elsa. Nat touches Elsa’s arm as the Inspector scans down the first page.

  ‘The only report we have is from her first admission. It details the seizures and coma. Her cause of death is listed as sudden heart failure.’

  ‘Didn’t they do a post-mortem to find out what caused the failure?’ Elsa asks.

  Inspector Govender turns over the page. He shakes his head.

  ‘Why not?’ demands Elsa.

  Inspector Govender looks at and her and pulls down his mouth. ‘You’ll have to ask the hospital; there’s nothing listed.’

  ‘We need Karlos’ medical details. We need to see what drugs he was on and if they can cause fitting. If he’s on something which can, we could have a connection to start on,’ snaps Elsa.

  She leans towards Inspector Govender as the air in the bleak office grows tense. ‘I am very aware that murder is commonplace and this is not a high priority to you but I need to make very clear to you that we expect this case to be investigated fully.’

 

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