by Neal Davies
He turns with drinks in both hands and glares at her, “When you say too far Cynthia, do you mean I should let a guilty man go and just agree with Jim’s interpretation of events, rather than catch the real killer. Oh, and I must say that Jim’s interpretation of events is based on information and some evidence, that I’ve produced over the course of the case!” He approaches her chair and hands Cynthia her sherry.
She looks up at him in a motherly fashion and gently replies, “I understand that Seb, but the evidence is very convincing when it comes to Sam being the guilty party, don’t you agree?” Before he has a chance to respond she continues, “How did he get his hands on the gun that was used in the murder if he didn’t do it, and why did he shoot himself?”
Sebastian screws his face up in frustration, “I don’t know, but there’s something very wrong and I need to get to the bottom of it. I honestly believe I know who the killer is! But before I can make that call I need to gather enough evidence to ensure I have a water- tight case. Most of all, I also need you to believe in me!” He looks down at her pleadingly and continues, “Tell me something, when you were prosecuting cases and you had doubts, did you proceed with your indictments?” Cynthia can see how her doubts are leaving him without her emotional support and knows how important it is to him.
“No Seb and you’re right. I need to believe in you. You’ve been instrumental in bringing the investigation to where it is now and if you feel there’s more to this than meets the eye, then I believe you, and I’ll help you in every way I can.” Sebastian puts his glass on the coffee table, then bends and kisses her,
“Thank you my love, that’s all I ask. Now if you don’t mind I have to say goodnight, it’ll be another big day tomorrow.”
Cynthia is not ready for bed yet.
“I’m going to stay down here and read for awhile. Good night, Seb.” He finishes his drink, and goes upstairs to the bedroom. Sebastian has a quick shower, goes to bed and after the day he’s had it’s not long before he’s sound asleep.
The next morning he feels like he’s just dozed off when the alarm buzzes at 8am. “Shut up you stupid thing!” He’s groans, as he slaps his hand down hard on the off button. He rises from the bed slowly, still aching all over from his unwanted exercise at the cemetery the previous day. “Oh shit, I hurt! Gym membership, I really must get me a gym membership.” He murmurs quietly, so as not to wake Cynthia. It’s 8.30 by the time he finishes showering and getting dressed. He still has a little time up his sleeve, so he moves gingerly down the stairs and into the kitchen where he cooks himself a king’s breakfast, reads the paper and then heads off to Gina’s place.
Chapter 14
SECOND INTERVIEW WITH GINA
Sebastian pulls up at the big black gates and announces his arrival. He motors down the driveway, eventually stopping outside her mansion. The only thing different this time, is Christopher her personal assistant is waiting outside on the top landing. He gets out of the car and heads up the steps, but before he reaches the top Christopher puts out his hand and brings him to a halt. “Before you come in sir, Mrs Portola wants me to remind you that if you were to make any derogatory accusations about her or her family, I will be called upon to physically throw you out! Now you must understand sir, I’m not only Mrs Portola’s personal assistant but also her bodyguard and I’m highly skilled in several martial arts. I deplore violence Mr Cork, so for both our sakes, I hope you’ll abide by her wishes.” Sebastian certainly doesn’t want a resemblance of the trouble he’d had the day before and just nods his head in agreement. “Thank you for your understanding Mr Cork. Now if you’d like to follow me.”
Gina is waiting in the study as she was on his last visit. As before, Christopher opens the door and allows Sebastian to go in after removing his coat and cane. Only this time Christopher follows close behind and startles Sebastian a little when he queries, “Would you like me to remain, Mrs Portola?” He knows very well what her answer will be and only says it as an additional warning to Sebastian. She taps her hand on the mantle and nonchalantly looks at her bodyguard.
“No, I don’t think Mr Cork is here to create problems.” Then she glares into Sebastian’s eyes, “Are you, Mr Cork?” He looks over his shoulder at Christopher and then back at Gina.
“No, not at all. I’m actually here to try and help clear your son’s name.” It’s quite noticeable the affect that Sam’s death is having on Gina as her face has become drawn, pale and emotionless.
“That’ll be all thanks Christopher.” He leaves the room and she strolls across the study to a large teak cocktail cabinet.
“Can I get you a drink, Mr Cork?”
Sebastian is still a little shaken about the thought of being physically removed should he slip up and replies nervously, “Well it is a little early. Oh, why not? I’ll have bourbon on the rocks, thank you.” She pours herself a red, then his bourbon and opens the side door to the cabinet that contains a bar fridge with ice.
“There you are Mr Cork. Enjoy.” Sebastian, now believing she isn’t involved in either murder and seeking information looks to break down barriers.
“Sebastian, you can call me Sebastian.” She sits down and waves her hand to indicate to him that he should do the same.
“Well Sebastian, what can I do to help you clear my son’s name of this atrocious act of so-called justice?” He takes a sip of bourbon and, then leaning forward, places it on a coaster on the coffee table.
“Well I’d like a key to Sam’s house so I can examine the scene myself. Even though all the proof the police have shown me points to murder/suicide, I’m still not convinced that Sam willingly took his own life, and if he did it wasn’t because he killed Frank.” Gina begins to tear up and admits, “You know I’ve been blaming myself for Sam’s death. I should’ve kicked those dirty little pieces of scum out of my house the moment my husband died. They were nothing but trouble. I had some of the best surgeons in the country work on Sam, but there wasn’t much they could do after that crazy little bastard mutilated him! I couldn’t help him then, but I’ll do everything in my power to help clear his name now! Remind me before you go and I’ll get you the key to his house, my memory is not the best at the moment.” She takes a tissue from the sleeve of her black blouse and wipes the tears from her eyes, before continuing, “What else can I help you with, Sebastian?” Sebastian, feeling no empathy for her, leans forward to pick up his bourbon again,
“Tell me, do you know if Sam had a brown leather Jacket?”
She snuffles into her tissue then looks at him curiously, “If he did, I never saw him wear it. And I’m positive he wouldn’t wear one anyway.” Gina’s statement has Sebastian’s unremitting attention as he knows this is a vital piece of evidence due to Jean’s statement that the killer wore a brown leather jacket,
“Why wouldn’t he?” She places her drink down and rests her elbow on the arm of the chair with her head in the palm of her hand; he doesn’t interrupt her silence as he can see she’s deep in thought.
Gina collects the thoughts that have been escaping her and assures reverently, “No, no definitely not! I’ll tell you why; he was a vegetarian and would never wear a thing that had anything to do with the slaughter of animals. He only wore wool, cotton, silk and hemp, apart from artificial leather in some of his shoes. It started after he came out of hospital. He was watching TV and a documentary on the killing of seals came on. It reminded him to much of what had been done to him and he swore he’d never eat or wear any type of animal that needed to be slaughtered for his benefit.” Sebastian finishes his drink and is offered another.
“No, you’ve been more than gracious but I really must get over to Sam’s house, if you don’t mind.”
They both rise from their chairs, Sebastian reminds her about the key and Gina leads the way to the kitchen. “Now I normally keep his key on a hook in the pantry over here.” She opens the door but the key isn’t there. “That’s odd, I was sure I put it back here the last time I used it. It m
ust be the stress! Oh well, it doesn’t matter, I’ll give you the back door key instead. I have it in my purse, won’t be a second.” Gina gives him the key. “Oh, you may want this as well.” She hands him a small card.
Sebastian looks at the card and asks, “Who’s this?”
“His name is Andrew Keeny; he was Sam’s psychologist for a number of years.” Sebastian looks at the card again.
“Of course, Andrew! I know him very well, he’s an exceptional psychologist. I’ve met him on several occasions. That’s a great lead, thank you.”
“Promise me you’ll keep me informed won’t you Sebastian?” He nonchalantly glances back at her.
“I certainly will. “With that, he strolls to the foyer where Christopher hands him his coat and cane. “Thank you Christopher, I’m so glad you didn’t have to throw me out!” Christopher grins.
“So am I Mr Cork, I’m beginning to like you.”
Sebastian walks down to the car, opens the door and sits sideways on the seat with his feet on the driveway. He takes out his mobile, rings Dr Keeny’s office and explains who he is to his secretary. She puts him on hold while she rings through to the Doctor. When she returns she informs Sebastian she’s booked him for an appointment in an hour’s time as there’s been a late cancellation. After the call he starts up his car and heads to Andrew Keeny’s office.
Chapter 15
DR ANDREW KEENY
Sebastian arrives before his appointment time, yet still has to wait quite awhile. He reflects back on the occasions he’d spent talking with Andrew at lectures and seminars that they’d both attended. For as long as Sebastian had known Dr Keeny he’d admired his work and held him in very high regard.
The seating is overly comfortable and his eyes begin to weigh heavy as he’s still feeling the effects of the restless night. Just as he’s about to doze he hears the receptionist call out, “Mr Cork, Dr Keeny will see you now.” Sebastian rises from his seat and goes to the reception desk where she points out the way, “If you just go up the hallway; he’s the second door on the left.” Sebastian does what’s asked of him and finds Dr Keeny’s door open.
“Seb how are you? What an honour to have you visit my humble office!” Dr Keeny rises from his chair and greets Sebastian with a hand shake, “Oh before I forget, congratulations on your award. Sorry I couldn’t be there, my wife’s been unwell for awhile now. Anyway take a seat, how can I help you?” Sebastian sits down. He can see that Dr Keeny doesn’t want to discuss his wife’s illness and Sebastian has no intention of wasting time on idle chit- chat regarding his own award, so he goes with the flow of the conversation.
“Well believe it or not Andrew I’m now a consultant with the police department and I’m working with them on the death of Sam Portola.” Dr Keeny shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.
“Are you serious? Sorry my friend but it’s hard to believe the great Sebastian Cork would take time out from solving the mysteries of the mind, to indulge in dangerous police pursuits; especially at a time when men of our age should be winding down and being a little more self-indulgent.”
Sebastian is quick to respond, “In all seriousness Andrew, I understand where you’re coming from and I actually gave it some consideration, but it’s not me. As for police pursuits, I believe it’s more than that. There’s also the premise of the cognitive understanding of the criminal mind.”
“Of course Seb, I’m sorry if that sounded blasé. I guess I was thinking from my own perspective. I apologise if I offended you.”
“No, no, don’t apologise Andrew, there’s no offense taken.” Dr Keeny grins.
“Good, then let’s get down to tin tacks what do you need from me?”
Sebastian eases back in his chair, “I’m just a bit puzzled about this whole suicide thing when it comes to Sam Portola. I thought you may be able to enlighten me.” Dr Keeny leans forward with his head tilted to one side and rests his forehead in his outstretched fingers while his other arm is laid out across the desk.
“In all honesty Seb, so am I. If the police had come here and spoken to me, I would’ve told them that I’d find it hard to believe that he was suicidal!”
Sebastian, with his thumb tucked under his chin and his index finger curved between his nose and upper lip looks at Dr Keeny as if he was one of his clients and urges “Go on?”
“Look Seb, you know yourself you can’t always be sure that your clients aren’t going to take their own lives when they’re suffering from depression. As you know I specialise in this field and that’s why I was called in on Sam’s case initially.
When I first saw him five years ago, he was psychologically damaged, self harming, and had tried to take his life on several occasions. I guess you could say I was the family’s last hope. He would come here on a regular basis and we’d work on the theory of what he was capable of doing and not the things that were holding him back, as he was beginning to manufacture himself as a victim. Over time this provided a distraction that eventually veered his focus from the negatives. Sam was doing well, almost to the point where we were ready to reduce his sleeping tablets.”
Sebastian squints, “So what you’re saying is; he was improving. But would it be so hard to believe that a person, who has murdered someone and perhaps thought they were on the verge of being caught, could take their own life rather than face jail?” Dr Keeny turns his lip up and nods negatively.
“Normally I’d agree with that analysis but not in this case. I’d believe it, if he was getting sentenced for something that may have other repercussions, such as bringing disrespect to himself or his family name. Sam was exceptionally proud in that way. But in this case, I don’t believe he would suicide over killing Frank.”
Sebastian continues to seek out the essence of Sam’s inner conscience, “Why not! Why is this case any different to the rest?”
Dr Keeny hesitates, and then responds, “If you go through my notes you’ll see at one stage Sam believed that Frank had been the one that scarred him for life. He told me during one of our many sessions he would gladly rot in prison, if he could have his revenge on him. I wanted him to consider the repercussions of what he was saying so I asked him, how he would cope in jail. He replied, ‘Easily! Look at my face! Jail would be a walk in the park compared to this!’
I even have trouble believing Sam had anything to do with Frank’s murder because all of that pent- up anger seemed to have left him and there was no sign of it coming back. He told me he no longer wanted Frank to have control over his thinking, and in my eyes this certainly indicated he’d moved on. Who knows? Maybe he was hiding something more and I didn’t see it.”
Sebastian has heard enough and leans forward with an outstretched hand, “Andrew it’s been a pleasure catching up with you.”
He grasps Sebastian’s hand and questions, “What do you think?”
Sebastian smiles, “What do I think? I think I came here to seek help from an expert in his field in the hope to shine some light on a very complicated case. You’ve been courteous and obliging and I want to thank you for that. As far as my thoughts on the matter of Sam’s suicide; I’m totally convinced he didn’t kill Frank or himself. So thanks again.” Dr Keeny sighs with relief.
“Thanks Seb, I was beginning to doubt myself a little over this matter. Hearing that your thoughts align with mine is of great comfort to me.”
Sebastian turns to with leave, “Catch up soon.” Everything Sebastian was thinking has been confirmed by Dr Keeny and now his case has picked up momentum. He heads to Sam’s to see if there is anything the police may have missed.
Chapter 16
SAM’S HOUSE
During his drive over to Sam’s house Sebastian ponders over the conversation he’s just had with Dr Keeny and once he pulls up outside the house Sebastian reaches inside his jacket to extract his notebook and pen so he can jot down some of Dr Keeny’s observations. He’s watched Cynthia document notes for many cases over her time as a prosecutor and knows he has to accumul
ate as much evidence as possible if he’s to prove Sam’s innocence of Frank’s murder. Once he’s completed his notes he gets out of the car and heads down the side of the house toward the rear entrance.
On his way through he stops to investigate around the window where the police had first noticed the body. It’s at this point he finds drag marks where someone had been squatting and their raincoat had imprinted into the wet soil. There’d been a heavy down pour the night before Sam’s body was found, but the next day was fine, so he knows the officers would not have been wearing their rain coats. He surmises that the marks could have only been made by one person, and that was the anonymous caller who’d initially tipped them off.
When he reaches the back end of the house, he uses the key Gina had lent him to unlock the door and goes directly into the lounge where the murder had taken place. He remembers reading in the report about a few ashes in the fireplace which the investigating detectives assumed was either rubbish or an attempt to get warm on a cold night. But when Sebastian looks around, he thinks to himself, “by the way Sam keeps an immaculate house; rubbish would be immediately binned and the small amount of paper burnt wouldn’t warm a cat, little less a human. He asks himself out loud, “So what was he burning and why?”
Sebastian moves to the sofa opposite the chair where Sam was found and stands there for a few minutes scanning the chair, the carpet and finally the floor. He notices a small speck of mud on the far side of the table; this is unusual as the police who found the body hadn’t walked over or around that area. His thoughts then focus on the only other people, who had entered the room, and they were the detectives who would have worn shoe covers, and the forensic team who would have worn protective clothing to prevent contamination to any evidence found. So there was no possible way they’d brought the speck of mud in with them.
As Sebastian gets down on his knees for a closer inspection he catches sight of a fragment of paper barely noticeable and well hidden behind the leg of the sofa. With some difficulty he moves the heavy early 19th century sofa far enough away from the wall to squeeze behind it and retrieve a pornographic photograph of Sam and a young boy. He’s now positive he knows who killed Frank and he’s also convinced that there’s more to Sam’s death than a simple suicide. More importantly; he’s also figured out how it was done. But, before confronting the killer he needs to notify Jim, as he’ll most certainly need back up.