by Neal Davies
He gently puts his hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?” Patrick slaps it away and glares at him. “Get your fucking hands off me! And keep that nut case friend of yours away as well!”
Sebastian is visibly angry and turns to Tony shoving his cane into his chest, “Why Tony, why! I told you to stay out of this. Why?” Tony kicks both his feet like a fish on a peer fighting for its last breath.
“Fuck him, and fuck you all! That prick killed my brother! I know he did and he fits the description of the guy you said left the apartment! I almost had the truth out of him and then these two imbeciles grabbed me from behind!”
Sebastian eases the pressure on the cane, “What do you mean you almost had the truth out of him?”
“He told me he was there that night. He told me he went to see him. I would’ve found out more if you hadn’t interfered.”
Doug looks up at Patrick with concern, “Is it true what he’s saying Patrick. Were you there that night?”
Patrick, still shaking, makes an attempt to collect himself, “Yes, I was there!”
Tony begins to struggle again, “I told you! Let me up and I’ll fucking kill him!”
Doug can’t believe what he’s hearing and the disappointment shows on his face, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you!” Patrick’s voice is still raspy and he’s fighting back the tears.
“Because I knew if I told you or anyone else you’d be thinking the same way he is. And I didn’t do it!
When Frank got the job over me, I was really pissed and it took me a long time to get over it. I’d given up on my friendship with him but he never gave up on me. He kept leaving messages on my phone and every time his name came up, I wouldn’t answer. Then early this year I received a letter saying that someone had enrolled me in an accountancy course and that it was fully paid for. When I rang and asked who had paid for it, they told me the person wanted to remain anonymous. It wasn’t hard to figure out who it was. I realised just how stupid I’d been, so I rang him and apologised.
Frank knew I’d struggle with the work, so he told me to come around of an evening whenever I wasn’t coping and he’d help me with my studies. That’s what I was doing there that night.” He looked down at Tony on the floor and said, “I’m really sorry about your brother. He was a great guy. He never talked about his past and I never knew anything about his family, except his parents had died in Italy and he was sent out here to live. There was one other thing. As much as I don’t like to talk about it, I guess it will come out anyway. He told me he left home for the same reason as I did.”
Tony looks up, “Why, why did he leave?”
“He said he was being molested by his cousin.”
Tony begins to struggle again, “That’s bullshit! He wouldn’t tell you that, you filthy fucking liar! You’re just trying to take the heat off yourself!”
Sebastian remembers Jean; the middle aged woman from the apartments, talking about another stocky fellow who seemed to get on well with Frank. It makes sense what Patrick’s saying. He looks around at Doug and suggests “He may be telling the truth. There’s a witness who saw someone that fits his description leaving the apartment immediately after Frank was murdered.” Sebastian looks back at Patrick, “It won’t be that hard to check your story about your enrolment into the course.”
He emotionally snaps back at Sebastian, “I’ll prove it to you now! Come to my locker. I’ll show you! Tony is heaved to his feet. Sebastian turns, frowns at Tony and speaks to him with authority.
“Are you going to be ok now or do I have to ask them to hang on a bit longer?” He pulls with one arm then the other. His body contorts until there’s no more fight left in him,
“Just let me go! I’ve had enough of this crap! I’m telling you now Sebastian, if you’re fucking wrong and this is the guy, I’m holding you responsible!” As they release his hands he straightens up his shirt and storms toward the door. He screams like a banshee on his way out, knocks several pots and pans off the sink and sends them crashing to the floor.
Sebastian stands there silently, speechless and stunned by the events that have just unfolded before his eyes. He regains his composure and humbly apologises to the others while blaming himself for Tony being there. They move in a group to the lockers with Patrick leading the way. He withdraws a key from his pocket and opens the metal door. Inside is a bright red bag, full of paper work and books, and Sebastian immediately knows; he isn’t the killer. “I’m sorry for what’s occurred here today and I take full responsibility for it. But at least I feel assured you’re no longer a suspect, Patrick.”
The whole ordeal has taken its toll on Patrick and he stands there rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Doug’s quick to place his hand on his shoulder, “its ok Pat! You’ve been bottling it up for too long.”
Doug turns to the tall guy and says softly, “Grab him a glass of water will you Ben?” Things calm down after awhile and Sebastian goes into Doug’s office with Ben. During a lengthy interview he could see there was no new evidence or information on offer. So he apologises again and leaves for his interview with Gina.
Chapter 9
THE INTERVIEW WITH GINA
Sebastian arrives outside Gina’s estate and it isn’t long before he’s driving through the big black cast iron gates after announcing himself on the intercom. He follows the driveway up to her house. It looks to him like a scale model of the White House with marble tiled steps and white hand rails that lead up to two large oak doors. He thinks about the contrast of this luxurious mansion, compared to the dingy apartments where Frank had lived and is saddened by the thought of how much Frank had given for so little, and how little Gina had given for so much. Sebastian exhales aggressively, and angrily murmurs to himself, “It isn’t as though she needs the room; all the kids have grown and probably moved out!” He sees the house as a status symbol, which enhances his understanding of her character before their meeting.
There’s a small parking bay to the side of the house. So he pulls the car up, turns the motor off and sits for a moment to ensure he’s shaken off the remnants of the ruckus at the shelter and also utilises the time to consider the tactics he’ll take to get the best possible result from his interview with Gina. Once he’s out of the Bentley and halfway up the steps. He can’t help but turn around to cast his eyes over the neatly cut lawns that are slightly frosted over. He thinks how perfectly picturesque the entire area is with the box hedges that border the driveway on one side and enclose the rose bushes on the other.
“Excuse me sir!” Sebastian gets a start and jars his neck as his head spins around. He can’t believe the size of the blond haired man mountain standing on the top landing behind him. “Sorry sir, I didn’t mean to startle you. My name’s Christopher and I am Mrs Portola’s personal assistant. She’s asked me, to ask you, if you’d like a coffee.”
Sebastian still a little shaken as he hadn’t heard the door open behind him stutters “Ah, yes. That would be good, thank you.”
Christopher semi- turns and offers, “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll escort you to the study.” He takes one last glimpse over the garden and then continues his way up the steps.
Sebastian is an exceptionally wealthy man and wants for nothing. But he’s completely in awe of the 18th and 19th century antiques and oil paintings from around the world that adorn the foyer. “Can I take your coat and cane sir?” Sebastian hands over his cane and proceeds to take his coat off. Christopher leads him down a narrow hallway, parallel and to the left of the staircase. On reaching the study door, he stands to one side, reaches forward and opens it; allowing Sebastian to enter, then closes it behind him, leaving him alone with Gina.
Gina is standing by a large open fire sipping her small mug of coffee. She’s wearing tight jeans and a silky white shirt that’s partially unbuttoned, exposing a large amount of cleavage. Sebastian is quite taken aback by her beauty, as he’s only heard of her evil acts. He wrongly imagined that her inner ugliness woul
d flow through to her looks. Her large brown eyes, pitch black flowing hair and olive complexion could easily have seen her adorning a catwalk anywhere in the world in her younger days. She steps forward a couple of paces, takes the sterling silver pot from its tray and begins to pore the quality, golden brown caffeine into a mug. “Welcome, Mr Cork. Would you like marshmallows? The idea of them in my coffee is quite new to me; I’ve always had it in the traditional Italian style. But someone suggested it, so I said why not! And I rather like my coffee this way now.”
He holds up the palm of his hand, while keeping his face expressionless and responds, “No, not for me. I like it with just two sugars and white thanks. I must say that I admire your taste in furniture. It takes someone with class to know how to furnish a house with antiques and yet still make it feel like a home. Take that Chippendale coffee table for instance, just superb!” She stirs Sebastian’s coffee slowly and remains bent over the coffee table much longer than she probably needed to. There’s no doubt she’s doing this to make sure he notices what she has to offer.
Sebastian’s eyes are drawn to her cleavage like a moth is to a flame, which makes him feel uncomfortable. He’s about to turn away as she rises with his coffee but her eyes look up and catch the last glimpse of his stare. “Well I must say, Mr Cork, you do have an eye for quality! And I see you also have an eye for fine Italian quality at that.” She smiles and passes him his coffee. He can see she’s quite the manipulator and she briefly has him all at sea.
“What do you mean?”
“Your suit Mr Cork, Isn’t it Armani?” She smiles, raises her eyebrows, pushes her head forward and whispers sarcastically, “What did you think I meant?” Sebastian is embarrassed by her innuendo but quickly regains his composure and avoids her question by taking a sip of his coffee.
He then replies, “Yes, you’re quite right. It is Armani. And I have to say this is great coffee!” Gina goes back to the warmth of the fire. She stands elegantly poised, balancing the mug on one open hand and holding the handle with the other.
“Yes I like it. I have it imported from Brazil. But that’s not why you came here, is it? Now, how can I really help you, Mr Cork?” He normally asks others to call him Sebastian or Seb. But he knows the best way to remain in control of this interview is to interrogate her, rather than approach her in a friendly manner. This way he can make observations from a psychologist’s perspective.
“As you know, your nephew was found murdered and I’m here as a police consultant to ask a few questions.” Sebastian observes Gina’s eyes light up like a rabid dog about to attack,
“Don’t you ever call that low life bastard my nephew, he destroyed my son’s life and he deserved to die!”
This is the first time she’s shown any honest emotion and he sees the opportunity to learn more about the devil that lies deep beneath the angel’s surface. “You know by saying that, you can be seen as a prime suspect and that sort of statement can be noted as incriminating evidence.”
She places her mug on the mantle, and then points her finger at him while glaring with furrowed brow over the top of it, “Let me tell you something, Mr Cork. I couldn’t care less! I’m glad he’s dead! And when I was told by the police how he died, I thought to myself, what a pity! Because if I’d killed him, I’d have made him suffer and it wouldn’t have been quick and easy like he got.” Sebastian has reached into the dark depths of her soul and drawn out the sadistic monster that flogged two innocent little boys all those years ago. He feels in control now, as he knows her emotions have the better of her, but psychological control takes finesse.
He eases the tension with a probing question, “I understand the chief of police informed you of the discrepancy regarding Frank’s inheritance. Can you explain that for me?” He sees she’s feeling uneasy after revealing her alter ego to him. She picks up her coffee again and holds it in the same way she had before. Only this time he notices it’s pressed firmly against her chest in a guarded manner. Her response to his question comes without any emotion or expression.
“No I can’t. You would have to talk to my accountant. He handles all of my financial affairs. Now if you don’t mind finishing up your coffee, Mr Cork, I have an appointment downtown and I need to get dressed.” Sebastian places his barely touched coffee on the tray. As he’s been asked to leave anyway he sees an opportunity to find out how much Gina really knows about other events that were happening under her reign of terror.
“I was wondering if you could spare me a moment for one more question, Mrs Portola.”
She glares at him and grunts, “Make it quick, Mr Cork, I really don’t have time for this!” He pauses for a second looking to test her patience and then drops a bombshell.
“Did you have any inclination that your son Sam had been molesting Frank?” Gina glares daggers into his eyes and he can see that she’s using all the power she can muster to stop herself from lashing out.
“How dare you, Mr Cork! As if my son hasn’t been through enough! You’re a very sick man!” She puts her half empty mug on the coffee table and walks out in disgust, muttering under her breath in Italian. Sebastian is left standing there in the room on his own. He could clearly see by her body language that she was repulsed at the thought of her son doing such a thing and he immediately knew she had no idea it had happened.
A few minutes later Christopher enters the room, almost robotically. He has Sebastian’s coat slung neatly over one arm and his cane in the other hand. “I’m sorry Mr Cork, but I have to drive Mrs Portola to her appointment and I’ll need to lock the house up. So, if you don’t mind?” Sebastian nonchalantly moves forward to accept his coat and cane.
“Not at all Christopher, I fully understand.” Christopher passes him his things and shows him to the front door. Sebastian gets in his car and as he drives slowly towards the gates, he looks back through his rear-view mirror and sees Gina in the same clothes she wore during the interview, scurrying out to her car alone. “Mmm! Just as I thought, there wasn’t any appointment!” He says out loud to himself as he turns onto the main road.
Curiosity gets the better of him so he finds an inconspicuous place to pull over and as soon as she passes by, he starts following her from a distance. She eventually pulls up in a new estate with very few established houses. Then she jumps out of her car and marches up the pathway like a woman on a mission and knocks on the door. Sebastian parks his car on the opposite side of the road; far enough away not to be noticed, yet close enough to see that the person who answers the door has serious scarring to his face; almost to the point of mutilation. What interests Sebastian more is he also fits the description of the prime suspect and he comes to the conclusion that it has to be Sam Portola but decides to ring Cynthia to make sure.
Sebastian reaches for his phone and then realises he’s left it in his coat pocket which he hurriedly threw onto the back seat after leaving Gina’s. Scrambling over the seat he finally plucks it from the underside of his coat and finds there have been numerous missed calls from Cynthia and two from Jim Johnston. Just as he’s about to dial, the phone begins to vibrate and he can see its Cynthia. “Hello my love.”
“Don’t you dare, ‘hello my love’ me! I’ve been ringing your phone for the past 30 minutes because Jim said he’d tried to contact you twice and you weren’t answering. Honestly Seb this is getting out of hand!” Sebastian, a little bit surprised at the tone of her voice after their conversation earlier in the morning, replies, “I thought you’d have known where I was with that new tracking system you bought?”
With her emotions still riding high, she responds, “There’s a bit of a glitch and I’ve got an IT guy coming later to sort it out. That’s not the point, why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“Well, I put my phone on vibrate before I went into my interview with Gina and then placed it back into the inside pocket of my coat. When I arrived at Gina’s for the interview her personal assistant took my coat. Then as I was leaving I threw the coat onto the back se
at of the car, forgetting that my phone was in it. I’m sorry, but it was a simple mistake.”
Gina snaps back, “Was it a simple mistake forgetting your debrief with Jim after the interview?”
“No I was going there when I finished here.”
He’s barely finished his sentence when she snaps at him again, “And where’s here?” Sebastian pauses to have a break from the scolding he’s taking from his irate wife. It also gives him a precious moment to regain his own composure as he does not want to antagonise Cynthia further.
“Well, that’s what I was about to ring you for. I think I may be outside Sam Portola’s house but I wasn’t sure. So I’m hoping you can find out exactly where he lives for me.”
With her anger slowly calming, her voice level drops a decibel and she replies, “I’m not happy about it, but I’ll do it! And there’s something I need you to do while I’m looking.”
“Not a problem, what can I do for you?”
“You can stay on the other end of the line and think about what else you’ve forgotten to tell me.” It isn’t long before Cynthia returns and tells him the address.
“Yes! I’m right, it is Sam. Great!”
“Now what else have you forgotten Seb?” He’d been wracking his brain but hasn’t come up with anything yet.
“I love you?” he tentatively guesses. There’s a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.
“Come on Seb, get real! Jim mentioned something about a cleaner and furniture. What’s that all about?”
“Oh bloody hell! It totally slipped my mind. I was supposed to ring and let him know they were coming today. Oh shit! Did he send it back? I bloody well hope not!”