by Neal Davies
It wasn’t long after his death that the beatings returned; only this time on a more regular basis. Frank was fourteen and at breaking point. Not only was he taking the brunt of the beatings because he had started to rebel against Gina, but her eldest son Sam, seventeen, had been sexually abusing Frank for the previous two years. He had felt defenceless and frightened of Sam due to his threats of murder if Frank told anyone. He had lay there night after night, imagining he was somewhere else, until the pain had become so unbearable, silent tears had raced down his face in torrents, washing away any remnants of the innocent child within.
One stormy night when everyone was asleep, Sam snuck into Frank’s room and got into his bed as he had done numerous times before. Only this time it was different. Two years of hell had turned to hate and it raged like an inferno in Frank. Sam whispered to him, “Hello Frankie boy, guess who? Yeah me, you miserable piece of shit! You know what I’m here for, so be nice to your cousin Sammy or else!” He slowly moved his hand to the front of Frank’s pyjamas and touched him for the last time. Those two years of hell could no longer be contained. Frank’s heart had throbbed so hard, he thought it was going to pound its way out of his chest. He reached for the wrench he had hidden under his pillow and hacked into Sam’s face like an axeman chopping wood. He was deaf to every sickening blow. He could only feel the pressure of his pulse throbbing in his head and the amplified sound of his own breath heaving from within. Frank was quiet, Sam wasn’t. His spine chilling, agonising screams had echoed throughout the house until the last massive blow put a silence to them.
Gina had raced up the hallway; a mother’s instinct told her they were Sam’s screams she’d heard and she knew she had to be with him as fast as she could. Her heart had been beating like a drum through her flimsy silk negligee and she had no thought of the perils that lay ahead of her. She screamed out to Sam and frantically raced toward the bedroom where she had heard her son’s horrific screeches coming from. In the bedroom, Frank had heard her crying out for Sam and knew she was getting closer by the slapping of her bare feet on the polished floorboards of the hallway. So he made sure he beat her to the door. He stood there, his hands dripping with blood, yet he had felt no remorse, no empathy, no sorrow, only purpose, and his purpose had been to make them pay. He wanted them to pay for the pain, the hurt and the rejection; he wanted them to pay for his parent’s death. It didn’t matter to him if it had nothing to do with them, he wanted them to pay and when Gina had entered that room, she had no way of defending herself as the wrench ploughed into the back of her skull, knocking her senseless.
At first he had stood, like a lion over its prey, incapable of feeling for those who had fallen, but then the flowing adrenalin and internal torment mixed together. His body had become taut, his muscles had seared and he stood there and screeched like a banshee. All the pain and frustration had left him for that one single moment. All his pent up energy had gone, his shoulders and arms dropped limp beside his body and his hand released the wrench. The thud of it hitting the polished floorboards had awoken him from his psychopathic state. For that small moment in time his plan had been eclipsed by his overriding instinct and he had realised that he had to get it back on track.
Frank had hurriedly got dressed and had just finished putting on his shoes when he heard the other children’s voices coming up the stairs. He had hoped and prayed they had slept through it all. But it wasn’t to be and he knew he had to move quickly. Frank had gone over and over his plan for weeks and realised he needed to stay calm if he was going to have a clean getaway. He reached under the bed and quickly dragged out his backpack filled with personal possessions which included clothing, some food, money he had been pilfering from Gina’s purse over time and his birth certificate. He emptied his pillow from its pillow case and placed his bloodied pyjamas and wrench inside it. Frank’s plan got back on track and finally worked out the way he had wanted it to.
He heard the others as they reached the top of the stairs and knew it was time to get out of there. He grabbed his backpack and flung it over both shoulders, snatched up the pillowcase and climbed out of the window onto the veranda roof. From there, Frank dropped the pillowcase over the side and scuttled down the trellis to where it had landed on the concrete below. He had bought a road map a couple of weeks earlier and had outlined a back street route that would take him through two towns and into the ghettos. At the time he knew there was a big trip ahead of him and along the way he picked up a brick, tied it in the pillowcase with the other items and disposed of them in the river. Frank hated leaving Tony but he’d thought Tony would be a lot safer as he felt things had been well taken care of.
Tony and his three step cousins had arrived in the room seconds after he had made his escape through the window. They had actually thought it was Frank in the bed as they hadn’t expected anyone else to be there and Sam’s face was unrecognisable.
Tony had stood paralysed, mouth open, frozen and overwhelmed by the thought of living without his brother. One of the other boys raced back downstairs to his room to get his mobile phone and dialled the police emergency number. By the time the police and ambulance had arrived Gina, with muffled murmurs, had begun to stir into a semi conscious state, while spine chilling gurgling sounds had been coming from the bed. On arrival the paramedics raced up the stairs and found Gina sitting upright on the floor against the wall holding a blood soaked towel to the back of her head, but their immediate concern had been for Sam who was still making gurgling noises in a state of unconsciousness.
There had been no time to spare, they were both rushed to hospital where Gina was stitched up and Sam was put into an induced coma. It took weeks before the swelling around his brain had subsided and it took months of rehabilitation and plastic surgery before he was allowed home. The specialists believed it was a miracle he had survived at all. The scars, along with crushed and splintered bones, were so horrendous and concave that even the best cosmetic surgeon in the country had told Gina his deformity was beyond repair. The police had looked for Frank to no avail and at the time Tony had no idea why Frank would do such a thing or if he had done it at all. But he always held hope that one day Frank would be found or return to find him.
As for Sam, he lost all memory of that week and because of his horrific disfigurement had to have ongoing treatment for depression. Gina never saw who hit her but constantly reminded Sam and the rest of the family that she was sure Frank was the perpetrator. She told them, that one day she would find him and when she did she would deal with the matter the way her Sicilian Grandparents would have. Apart from the police and Tony, no one really cared what happened to Frank, no one learnt any lessons from that night; they just continued being the evil family they had always been.
Thanks to Tony’s uncle’s trust fund he was able to get a good education and become an IT specialist, one of the best in his field. The other money that he received when he turned 21 he invested until he completed his studies and he later started his own business with it. Some bridges seemed to have been mended with Tony and his aunty but mostly he became independent of the family and a very wealthy man. The only times he would visit Gina was when he was lonely and longed for family but he always came away feeling jilted and disrespected, vowing it would be his last visit, but it never was. At his first appointment with Sebastian he told him he had come to get help for his feelings of inadequacy and rejection. He also told him of the anxiety he felt when thinking about Frank. Sebastian knew that Tony’s issues ran deep and that he had only scratched the surface with his sessions. He was hoping that the bad news that Tony had just received would not destabilise his emotional wellbeing any further.
Chapter 4
SEBASTIAN’S NEW LEASE ON LIFE
Sebastian is still a little out of breath from scurrying downstairs and his heart feels like it is in his throat as he reaches the study. “Tony, what’s happening?” Sebastian swallows and pauses to regain his composure, then continues, “What’s this about your bro
ther being murdered?” On hearing Sebastian’s voice Tony breaks down and begins to tell his story.
“As you know Sebastian, I’ve been searching for my brother for some years now. And, as I told you in my first session, I hired a private investigator to help me locate him.”
Sebastian, eager to hear more responds quickly, “Yes, yes, I remember well.”
Tony, sensing Sebastian’s urgency, stops sobbing, takes a deep breath and continues, “Well, a couple of days ago the fellow I hired traced him to a grotty block of apartments in the ghetto and when he asked the manager if he’d seen Frank recently, he told him no. Ben Coates, my PI, asked the manager to escort him to his room. He wouldn’t until a tidy sum of money was offered. On arrival, the manager unlocked the door and they found my brother sitting in an arm chair in front of his TV with a bullet through the side of his head!”
Tony begins to break down again and Sebastian works quickly to get him back on track by asking,” “What did the police say?” Tony pauses and then regains his composure again, “Only that they were still investigating and would keep me up to date on their progress. I really don’t think they’re all that interested to be honest with you.”
Sebastian, just out of bed and not thinking clearly, stops for a moment to collect his thoughts and then suggests, “I would like to share this information with my wife, if I may. She still has some very influential friends in the force.”
“Yes, of course!” he affirms. Sebastian asks Tony to give him some time and he will get back to him later in the afternoon. For some unknown reason, Sebastian is in two minds; he half frown’s, thinking about the emotional agony Tony must be going through and for Tony’s sake, he is saddened. But on the other hand he is excited and motivated by a real sense of adventure. It has been a long time since he has experienced anything that has lifted his spirits and made him feel alive like this has. There is one thing he is absolutely sure of; he has to be involved in this investigation, not only for Tony’s sake, but for his own as well.
Sebastian finds Cynthia in the kitchen, busily preparing breakfast for the both of them, and is uncertain how she will react when he discloses what he is feeling and what he has in mind for the near future, “Cynthia my dear, I need your help.” he sits down at the table and she places a coffee and raisin toast in front of him. He proceeds to tell her everything that Tony has told him and relays the message that Tony has also given him permission to fill her in on his family’s history.
Cynthia is at the bench buttering her own toast with her back to him and immediately replies, “Goodness me! Of course I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”
Sebastian describes his own feelings and his new found enthusiasm and then he drops the bombshell, “I want to be involved.” Cynthia stops buttering and turns around sharply.
“What do you mean, you want to be involved?” she snaps back. Sebastian can hear the negativity in her voice and frowns with anger. He doesn’t mind debating an issue but detests being spoken down to before he has had an opportunity to explain what he has planned.
“I want to be involved. I want to be involved! What do you think that means?”
She looks at him as if a firecracker has just gone off in her head, “No, Sebastian, the answer is definitely No!” She turns her back to him again, finishes buttering and brings her coffee and toast to the table, “This sort of thing is way too dangerous. I would rather you die of boredom. No!” After he had given into Cynthia regarding his thoughts of retirement on the previous night this definite no is like waving a red rag to a bull.
He stares straight into her eyes and replies, “Ok, if that is your answer and you are adamant, I’ll have to do this on my own!” He places his half eaten toast back on his plate, throws his coffee down and leaves the table. He rarely argues with her logic but when he does she knows there is no stopping him, come hell or high water. She also knows he will be much safer if he has her support with the contacts she has at the police station.
She calls to him, “Sebastian wait!” Cynthia closes her eyes, purses her lips and lowers her voice. “This is against my better judgement but if you really have to do this then I can’t let you do it alone. Yes I’ll help, what do you need?” He stops in his tracks, takes a deep breath, turns and heads back to the table.
“Are you sure?” he replies, taking a seat, and having another bite of his toast like a little boy who’s has gotten his own way. She looks at him scornfully while refilling his coffee.
“Yes but as I said, this really is against my better judgement. Now what do you need?”
He begins pouring milk into his coffee, “honestly, and I must tell you this is a big ask, I would to like to become a consultant for the police department and I would be prepared to work this case free of charge.” He places the milk jug back on the table and continues, “Now, before you say anything, I promise I won’t put myself in danger and I’ll let you know everything that is happening day- in- day- out, ok?” Cynthia sips her coffee, takes a bite of her toast and hesitates for a moment longer, not wanting to respond on pure emotion alone.
“I believe I can arrange that, but here’s what I want! I want you to carry a weapon of some sort. I don’t care what it is, I need to know you’re safe. The other condition is, I have to be involved and that may mean staying at home doing research for you, or if necessary, being on the job with you when there are complicated legal issues. Now unless you agree to these terms you’ll have to organise everything yourself, including applying for your consultancy job with the force and doing your own research. Do we have a deal?” Sebastian puts his mug down, leans back into the brown strapped chrome chair and smirks while moving his head from side to side. She has always impressed him with her negotiation skills. He felt that she was far too good a lawyer to give up her career when she did.
“That’s blackmail! But it seems fair. I’m not sure about the weapon though.” Knowing she has finessed her way back into the lead role in the debate she turns the pressure up another notch. Cynthia stands up and begins collecting the empty plates from the table.
“Well you better make a decision before I change my mind. I need to hear you promise that you agree to my conditions or there’s no deal!”
What Sebastian doesn’t know is, the commissioner has been asking her for quite awhile if Sebastian would be interested in doing some profile work for the force but she had had concerns for his safety and declined the offers. Sebastian sits forward again and nonchalantly makes the promise and sips his second coffee. She rinses the dishes, places them in the washer and goes to the study to make her promised calls.
Sebastian has an old Blackwood cane with a sterling silver dragon hooked handle. He bought it at an auction some years prior for a keepsake and it has sat in the umbrella stand ever since. He waits for her to finish her calls and then enters the den holding the cane in both hands, and waves it backward and forward like a proud child with a new flag, “will this do for a weapon?” he asks her.
She glares across the room at him like he is some sort of imbecile and replies, “well it’s a start, I guess. Now about this case Seb. I spoke to Keenan Armstrong the police commissioner, hoping to get some information so I could give you a bit of a head start and he has spoken to Jim Johnston. You remember Jim don’t you?” Sebastian was becoming impatient.
“Yes, yes Chief of Police and all that. Go on!”
“Well Jim had explained to Keenan how difficult it is to solve a murder in the area where Frank was killed. So going on his negativity, it sounds like you will be up against it from the outset.”
After hearing this Sebastian frowns, thanks his wife and gets on the phone to Tony and tells him that Cynthia has made some calls and that he will soon be acting as a police consultant. He goes on to explain that due to the nature of the area where Frank lived and the shady characters he was associated with, the police commissioner said it will be difficult to find the killer. Tony, disinterested in anyone else’s opinion states, “I don’t care wh
at they think. I need to find whoever did this. They need to be punished!”
Sebastian can hear the desperation in his voice and is quick to respond, “That’s why I am heading down to the police station tomorrow morning at 8 am, so I can have a word with Jim Johnston who is the Chief of Police and go over Frank’s file while I’m there. After that, I’ll be heading to the unit where Frank lived. I won’t make you any promises, Tony. But I am telling you now; I will do everything in my power to find the person that did this to your brother!” Tony seems appeased and thanks Sebastian for being there for him. Anytime Sebastian hears the words difficult, too hard, can’t or most negatives for that matter, it drives his enthusiasm to push harder and further. He mutters to himself, “Difficult maybe, Impossible not at all!”
As soon as he hangs up the phone Cynthia enters the room seemingly quite pleased with her-self and says, “You know you owe me for this. Don’t you?”
Sebastian, quite serious and still focused on Frank’s murder, responds indifferently, “I guess I do. So what is it I owe you?” Cynthia smiles like a Cheshire cat, breathes deeply through her nose, heaves her chest forward and turns her head to the side.
“Well I think dinner tonight at Ericasams restaurant would be appropriate don’t you?”
He looks deep into her eyes and sarcastically grins, “Oh, of course Ericasams, only the most expensive restaurant in town. Why am I surprised? It seems that I will be paying for my new adventure for some time to come.” Cynthia drops her shoulders, sensing his disinterest and feels hurt by his response. Her reply is swift and sarcastically mirrors his response,