Sebastian Cork: Forget Me Not

by Neal Davies

  “As I said Seb, I can barely hear you, so I’m going to get off now. Thanks for ringing in and I’ll see you tonight. Love you, bye.”

  “Cynthia…” click. “Cynthia!”

  It isn’t long before Pete arrives, jumps in the car and pulls the visor down. He looks at Sebastian despairingly, “Seriously, I don’t know why the hell I’m even talking to you! Especially after that little episode you pulled up the road!”

  Sebastian grimaces with embarrassment, “Yes about that Pete, I’m sincerely sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Look, I don’t know how I can help you, but I’ll try. Frank was a good man and always willing to help out in any way he could. I’ve got no idea why anyone would want to hurt him. He was the type of guy that we all connected with and if you asked him a favour he’d go out of his way to do it for you.” Sebastian decides to get right to the point.

  “What about Gino?” Pete looks out the side window nervously, and then returns to the conversation.

  “Gino’s a funny guy; you never really know where you stand with him. He can run a bit hot and cold at times. I do know he had a lot of time for Frank or Frankie as he used to call him.” Pete pauses for an indecisive moment, “Now listen you can’t go telling this to anyone, especially the cops. Do you understand?”

  “Ok, of course, of course.”

  “No! Not of fucking course! Do you understand? If you don’t, I’m dead! I can’t afford for you to fuck up the way you did today. Now do you understand?”

  Sebastian can see and hear the desperation, “Definitely Peter! I give you my word he’ll never know you and I have spoken about this. I know I stuffed up today but I can assure you, it won’t happen again! So please, tell me what you know?”

  “Now look, I’m not saying he did it right? I’m just giving you the facts.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well a couple of days before Frank got it, him and Gino had a major fall out. The tavern was almost to capacity, and apart from them yelling at each other, you could have heard a pin drop. The regulars know that when Gino is angry you either back off or shut the fuck up, but Frank didn’t. Now I don’t speak Italian but I’m telling you, this was heated and when Frank eventually stormed out, Gino smashed both his fists on the table, stood up and threw his drink through the glass door. Everyone in the tavern stood or sat there like fucking mannequins until Gino asked them what the fuck they were looking at and then stormed out. Like I said, a couple of days later Frank’s on a plank in the morgue.”

  Sebastian wants to show Pete his gratitude and goes to his jacket to pull out his wallet. Pete grabs hold of his arm, “No thanks. This one’s on me. It’s the least I can do for Frank. I wish I could have done more. Now you wait for ten minutes so I can peacefully walk out of here without some clown thinking I’ve been spilling my guts to you.” Pete opens the door and gets out. Before he shuts it again he bends down and eyeballs Sebastian, “ten minutes ok?” Sebastian nods his understanding, sits and waits a good fifteen minutes to be sure and drives off. He’s exhausted, it’s been a big day and there’s been a lot to consider but there are two more stops he has to make before heading home.

  “Ah, here we are,” he says out loud to himself as he pulls up adjacent to a small shop called Sun Bright Cleaners. Sebastian’s beginning to feel the aches and pains of his age as he slowly alights from the Bentley, using his cane as leverage, then gingerly heads towards the glass door. A small bell on a semi- coiled spring tinkles as he enters and a neatly dressed young man comes out of an office to greet him at the counter.

  “Can I help you sir?”

  “Ah yes, I need a small office cleaned tomorrow and it needs to be before lunch, if possible.”

  The young man, eager to oblige, responds politely, “That won’t be a problem, sir. But I’m sorry to say, the cost will be the same as a larger office.” Sebastian grins at the young man.

  “Cost isn’t overly important. I’m sure it will be tax deductable. What is important though is that it needs to be finished before lunch.”

  “Will we require keys if we get there early?”

  “No not at all, the building’s open 24 hours a day, every, day and I’ll let them know you’re coming.” The young man picks up a note pad and pen from the back of the counter.

  “Now sir, could I have the address of the office you would like cleaned?”

  “It might be easier if I explain which building it is. It’s the city central police station. And the office I want cleaned is called the ‘dust pit’.” The young fellow puts down his pen and pad and looks Sebastian up and down. Sebastian has become so used to his cane that he carries it with him everywhere. Once you combine that with his request, the name of his office and the Armani suit he’s wearing; it’s understandable why the young man is wondering if this is some sort of a practical joke, or if Sebastian’s just crazy.

  Sebastian notices his confusion and reaches into his pocket for his documents, “Here I think you should read these. As you can see I’m the new police consultant and the ‘dust pit’ is a nickname for the office they’ve placed me in.”

  The young man scans over the documents and replies, “Oh, ok, sorry! I’ll despatch someone there in the morning.”

  “That’s great! You’ll find it’s quite aptly named and whoever you send will have their work cut out for them. Here’s my card, with my post box. Just ask for Jim Johnston when you arrive and send me the bill on completion. Now can you tell me where the closest furniture store is please?” The young man points the way and Sebastian departs, leaving him scratching his head. Sebastian gets much of the same questionable looks at the furniture store but like most other things, unless it’s holding him up from something important, or interfering with his train of thought, it rarely perturbs him at all. After completing all he has to do at the furniture store Sebastian heads home.

  He’s never been so glad to pull in the driveway of his home. And no sooner does he walk through the door and place his cane in the umbrella stand, Cynthia’s voice calls out from the kitchen, “I know you’ve only just got in but can you give Tony a call, please? He rang about half an hour ago to see how everything was going.” Sebastian, aching and weary heads for the study to pour himself a glass of Bourbon, but comes to an abrupt halt when he hears, “And can you not have Bourbon before dinner. It’ll be ready soon and I’d like you to make the call first.”

  He rubs his right hand down his face and squeezes his bottom lip momentarily, then shouts back, “Not a problem my love!” Sebastian’s convinced she has some sort of psychic powers that were gifted to her just to make his life difficult at times. He continues on into the study, the warmth of the heater and the flickers of the flames add weight to his already heavy eye lids and he shakes his head in order to maintain some sort of sensibility. He slowly eases his way back into his recliner and proceeds to make the call, “Tony, its Sebastian. How are you holding up?”

  “I guess I’m getting there. Have you heard anything, any suspects, anything?”

  “It’s only the first day Tony. It’ll take awhile but I do have some leads and possible suspects. All I can tell you is Frank worked at St Benedict’s homeless shelter. And that a stocky built guy was leaving the apartments at the time of Frank’s murder.” There’s a short pause on the other end of the phone, “Are you still there Tony?”

  He finally responds, “Yes sorry! Is there any way I can help?”

  Sebastian knows how emotional Tony is and responds with authority, “No, its best you don’t do anything. Just know that I am doing all I can to find the killer of your brother.” There’s another short pause from Tony, “I just feel so helpless. Perhaps I could talk to some of these people myself. Maybe …” Sebastian’s tired and beginning to lose patience with him. He doesn’t need this added pressure; especially tonight,

  “No Tony! You have to trust me with this. Now I don’t mind keeping you informed of my progress or listening to your thoughts if you have any regarding
the investigation. But if you start interfering with the case; I’ll have to consider withholding any new information from you. Do you understand?”

  This time the reply is swift and angry, “No, I don’t understand! This was my brother and some bastard killed him. I’ve searched and searched and some bastard killed him!” Tony breaks down and weeps like a child.

  “Tony! You have to listen to me. I’m doing all I can! And I know I can find the person that killed him! I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now. But I do know you’re hurting. We’ve spoken in our sessions about times like these, when emotion can override our logical thinking and how it can lead to very bad decisions. So I want you to listen to my logic so we don’t make things more complicated than they already are. Ok?” Tony breathes deeply himself,

  “I’ll try.”

  Sebastian, also a little more composed, replies, “That’s all I ask. Now, tomorrow morning I have another appointment at the shelter to talk to staff members. And following that, I have an appointment with Gina. Ring me anytime you feel you need to.”

  After the call, Sebastian sits back in his recliner and takes a deep breath. His eyes are drawn to the flickering flames again and it isn’t long before he’s sound asleep in his chair. The next thing he feels is a hand shaking his shoulder. “Seb, wake up! Wake up! You need to have some dinner!” Still half asleep he’s slow to respond and she shakes him again, “Seb!”

  “What time is it Cynthia?”

  “It’s 8 o’clock,”

  Still not fully awake he replies, “What, in the morning?” She looks at him sympathetically and shakes her head.

  “Don’t be silly, it’s eight in the evening!” He pulls his head back and flutters his eye lids. She feels a little guilty for waking him and explains why she did, “I Thought I’d let you sleep for awhile but we’re having lamb and I didn’t want it to dry out.” He slowly sits upright.

  “I’m sorry my love. I had no idea how tiring my first day would be.”

  “Are you sure you want to keep doing this? As you said, it’s only your first day and look at you.” Sebastian pushes on the arms of his chair and slowly rises to his feet.

  “The only time I’ve felt surer about something is when I proposed to you.” She smiles at him and they head out to the kitchen. They have a large dining room with a teak table that can seat up to 20 people but it’s only used for dinner parties, fund raisers and special occasions. They also have a very large galley type kitchen with a cosy nook where they normally have their meals. As Sebastian sits down to eat he can see that Cynthia has gone to a lot of trouble to set out a traditional roast lamb and vegetable dinner for them and although he’s tired and not that hungry he feels obliged to make the evening as pleasant as he can for her.

  They both sit down and load up their plates. Sebastian’s understandably quiet and as usual it’s not long before Cynthia breaks the silence, “So tell me Seb is it everything you hoped it would be?”

  He puts his fork down and reaches out, “Pass me the mint sauce please dear. No, no it wasn’t. There were times when I felt like a blubbering fool and other times when I had it all under control. But do you know what?”

  Cynthia passing the sauce responds, “No what?”

  Still chewing, he raises his eyebrows, swallows and says, “I loved every minute of it! I feel like that kid that hungered to be a psychologist all those years ago. I can’t tell you what this means to me!”

  He passes back the mint, she pours some on her lamb and without looking up says, “But are you getting anywhere Seb?”

  “Yes, yes, I believe I am. I already know that it was a short stocky man that committed the murder. And I also know he was wearing a brown leather jacket. The odds are he’s Italian, or speaks Italian. But that’s all I have.” Cynthia puts her fork down and begins buttering her dinner roll.

  “You should be very proud of yourself, Seb. I’ve seen the police files and there’s no mention of a suspect. Although I must say that there are quite a number of short stocky guys out there you know.”

  Sebastian laughs, “Yes I know! And it seems like they’re all connected to Frank in one way or another!” Sebastian’s about to cut another slice of lamb when Cynthia puts her knife and fork down, reaches across the table and grabs his wrist with her hand.

  “I know we’ve spoken about this Seb, but I can’t emphasise this enough! If Gino Gemini’s got anything to do with Frank’s murder; make sure you tread very carefully. If he gets a sniff that you’re onto him, make no mistake, he will eliminate you and, from what you’re saying Gambini fits the description of the prime suspect!”

  Sebastian not wanting to intensify Cynthia’s concerns but at the same time help her to come to terms with his new line of work rebuffs, “I know you only say these things out of love and concern for my safety but do you remember when you first became a prosecutor and I’d worry myself sick every time you would get a threat from someone you’d convicted for murder?”

  Still holding his wrist she bows her head and admits, “My Goodness Seb, you’re so right! I’d forgotten all about that and how difficult it was to do my job properly knowing you were worrying about me every time I went to work. I also remember how you pulled it all together and stopped pestering me about police protection. Ok, from here on in our discussions pertaining to the job will be primarily research orientated.” Sebastian puts his fork down and pats the top of her hand.

  “That’s all I ask my love.”

  After dinner Sebastian begins helping with the dishes, but Cynthia can see how worn out he is and insists on finishing them while he heads upstairs to bed.

  Chapter 8

  A RE-VISIT TO THE SHELTER

  Sebastian’s up early, cooks breakfast and is about to leave for his appointment at the shelter. He thinks Cynthia’s still in bed asleep but as he’s about to leave she hurries down the stairs in her nightgown carrying a cardboard box, “Seb, wait! I have a little surprise for you. Yesterday while you were out gallivanting around and after I made all the calls you asked me to make for you, I popped around the corner to your favourite shoe shop and bought you these.” As Cynthia takes her final step down to the foyer she pulls a pair of comfortable looking shoes from the box she’s holding and asks him to try them on.

  Sebastian thinks to himself that this is quite a strange thing to do. She’s never bought him shoes before! Not even on his birthday or at Christmas. So he responds with, “Well that explains the phone call yesterday, but why? I only bought a new pair of shoes a month ago and they’re barely worn in!”

  She looks at him with a frown and replies, “You don’t seem to appreciate any thing I do for you lately! I just thought if you’re going to be running around all over the place, you need to have comfortable shoes. Now stop being a stick in the mud and try them on!” Still contemplating her motives he reluctantly sits on the fold down seat of the hall stand and proceeds to take the shoes he is wearing off and put the new ones on. Then he walks up and down passageway, grinning and nodding his approval.

  “You know something Cynthia? You’re so right; these are the perfect pair of shoes! I’ll be happy to wear these while walking the beat as they say in the old movies. Now tell me my dear, why did you really buy them? Oh, and before you answer that question in an angry manner, there’s something I must explain. Whenever you’re hiding something from me your voice changes tone and you fidget with your fingers over the top of your thumb. The other thing I noticed was, when you presented the shoes to me you kept looking at the heel of the right one. Now tell me if I miss the mark but given the way you were worrying about me yesterday and how much calmer you seem today, would I be wrong in predicting there is some sort of electronic devise implanted in the heel of my shoe?”

  Cynthia sits on the seat where he’d tried his shoes on earlier and confesses, “I should have known you’d work it out! I just thought it would take a little longer. I was on the computer the other day and saw a post for GPS tracking systems and found
an electronic store in town that sells them. So I spoke to Jim yesterday and asked him what he thought about them and he agreed it’d be a good idea. Then it was just a matter of buying the right shoes, drilling a hole in the heel and refilling it with the device and coloured resin. That way I could track you via the computer and feel more secure in knowing where you are at any given time.” Sebastian walks back to the chair where she’s sitting, places his hands on her shoulders, bends down and kisses her on the forehead,

  “My love, what you’ve done is a wonderful gesture and I appreciate your concern. I have no issues with it, in fact, I think it’s a great idea!”

  Shocked looks up and replies, “You do?”

  He smiles again and reaffirms, “Of course! That way I won’t have to ring in unless I need to. I think it’s a marvellous idea.”

  She hits him on the shoulder and scolds, “Oh Sebastian, just go to work!” He kisses her goodbye, grabs his cane and coat, and walks out whistling. As the door shuts behind him she cups her hands over her eyes and begins pulling them down her face and ponders out loud, “Sometimes I wonder why I even worry!”

  Sebastian eventually pulls up outside the shelter, grabs his cane and goes to the side door where he was let in the last time, only this time there’s no one to greet him and the door is ajar. So he enters and works his way through the dining area. As he nears the kitchen he can hear shouting, loud crashing and banging. So he moves swiftly to see what the commotion is. As he enters the kitchen he finds Tony with his hands firmly affixed to Patrick’s throat, throwing him from one bench to another like a dog with a rag doll. Doug and another skinny fellow are trying to separate them to no avail. So Sebastian acts quickly and hooks his cane to the back of Tony’s shirt like a fisherman gaffing his trophy and jerks hard. This pulls him off balance while the other two grab his arms and free Patrick from his vice like grip.

  Tony’s now sitting on the floor with both his arms being held and he starts screaming at Patrick. “I’ll kill you, you bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!” He keeps kicking and struggling to get to his feet, without success. Now that the other two have full control of him, Sebastian walks over to Patrick, who’s still gagging and clutching his throat.