by stewartgiles
FORTY FIVE
LITTLE CHUCK
Wednesday 27 July 2005
“The visiting room is through there Mr Lin,” Nurse Hagen said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to search your bag before you go in.”
Mr Lin handed his bag to a short, stocky man standing in front of the desk.
“There’s one thing you must understand Mr Lin,” the nurse continued, “your wife was sent here on an involuntary commitment order. She is undergoing strict rehabilitation and involved in that therapy is strong medication. She is still getting used to that medication.
“Will she know who I am?” Lin asked.
“It’s not that bad,” Nurse Hagen said, “she’ll just be a bit groggy for a while. You can go through now. I must warn you that some of the other patients can seem a bit odd. I assure you they are quite harmless though.”
Lin took his bag from the stocky man, walked through the security gate and followed the sign that read ‘visiting room’. The sound of singing could be heard from one of the rooms in the distance; it was a song about Jesus. Lin opened the door to the visitor’s room and looked inside. The room was completely white with a dark grey floor. There were a dozen or so tables in the room, each with four chairs around them. A man in a hospital uniform approached.
“Can I help you?” he asked suspiciously. He had a strange accent.
“I’m here to see my wife,” Lin said, “Vera Mae Lin, she’s expecting me.”
“The patients who are expecting visitors will be through in a moment,” the man said, “you can take a seat at one of the tables while you wait.”
Lin picked the table closest to the window. It was raining quite heavily outside. While he waited he looked around the room and realised how devoid of character it was. White walls and a grey floor. How could anyone hope to get better in here? He thought. His thoughts were broken as a group of people shuffled into the room. They all looked the same in their hospital regulation white gowns and plastic socks. Lin stood up as he saw Vera Mae Lin enter the room. He smiled at her but she stared straight past him. In just a week, her appearance had changed dramatically; her face was a strange greyish white colour and she looked thinner. It was her eyes that startled him the most. There was none of the sparkle he remembered; they were just dead pools of black under sunken lids. Lin approached her and embraced her. She stiffened as she felt his arms around her. She smelled of disinfectant. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down.
“How are they treating you?” Lin asked.
A glimmer of recognition appeared in her eyes but she did not answer.
“They told me you’ll get used to the drugs after a while,” Lin said.
There was an eerie silence. Lin did not know what else to say.
“They make me feel so tired,” Vera Mae said eventually.”
Lin smiled.
“They will do at first,” he said, “but after a while you’ll get better.”
“I can’t think properly,” she said slowly, “There’s a white mist in front of my eyes the whole time and I’ve been sick most mornings.”
Lin took hold of her hand. It was cold.
“You’ve got me,” he said, “and I’ll be here every Wednesday until you get out. I promise.”
“I’m not a bad person am I?” she asked.
“Of course not. You shouldn’t even be in here; if it wasn’t for that Professor, you’d be at home with me right now.”
“I think I might be pregnant,”
Lin’s face dropped but just as quickly, it brightened and every inch of it was engulfed in a radiant glow.
“Pregnant?” Lin’s eyes were now glowing. “We’re going to have a baby?” he cried to a man sitting at the table across from them.
The man did not move; he had not moved since he had sat down.
“I said I might be pregnant,” Vera Mae said.
There was a hint of a smile on her face for the first time.
“You know Vera Mae,” Lin insisted, “we’re going to have a baby, little Chuck. It’ll be just like the song.”
“What song?”
“The one I always play. The one about growing old together and being happy. Maybe they’ll let you out early when they find out.”
“I’m tired,” Vera Mae said, “these stupid pills make me tired and I’m tired of this place already; I think I need to lie down and sleep for a while.”
“Yes,” Lin agreed, “you must rest and look after our little Chuck.”
FORTY SIX
RED RAG
Monday 4 January 2009
“They’re in the holding cells,” Chalmers said, “Bartlett’s scared shitless but Maude’s putting on a brave face.”
“This Maude character,” Smith said, “you said he has quite an impressive record, what’s he been inside for?”
“Robbery, breaking and entering, assault, GBH, you name it. He was up for manslaughter a while back but they couldn’t make it stick. Some scumbag lawyer got the sentence reduced.”
“Manslaughter?”
“Robbed an old woman a while back. He knocked her to the ground. She fell so hard that she broke her hip and she never recovered; she died later in hospital.”
Smith’s heart started to beat faster. He took a couple of deep breaths.
“Where did Whitton disappear to?” he said.
“She said she needed to check her e mails,” Chalmers replied, “why do you ask?”
“No reason sir. Would you mind if I had a quick word with this Maude guy?”
“You shouldn’t really, you’re personally involved.”
“Personally involved sir?”
“The burglary, he broke into your house.”
“I just thought if I asked him nicely, he might tell me where the rest of my stuff ended up.”
Chalmers scratched a scab on his nose.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he said.
There were five holding cells at the Police station. Over weekends they were normally full of drunkards and petty criminals but today, Steven Maude and John Bartlett had the place to themselves. Smith opened the door to the cell. He recognised Maude immediately.
“You,” he said to Bartlett, “Out! There’s an open cell at the end of the corridor. Sit there and wait until I’m finished.”
Bartlett looked terrified. He did as he was asked.
“Steven Maude,” Smith said when he was sure Bartlett was out of ear shot, “we meet again.”
Maude seemed confused.
“Do I know you?” he snarled.
“All in good time,” Smith replied, “you made the mistake of breaking into a Police Detective’s house. That was a stupid thing to do.”
“We didn’t know it was a copper’s house,” Maude insisted.
“Never mind that. You took some jewellery from me. Where is it?”
“Sold it,” Maude said immediately.
“I assumed that,” Smith said, “who did you sell it to?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“That will become apparent. Who did you sell it to?”
“There’s this Paki down on the West Hill Road. He owns a corner shop but that’s just a front for the other stuff he buys and sells.”
“Name.”
Smith’s heart started to beat even faster.
“I don’t know,” Maude said, “Muhammad or something.”
“You really don’t remember me do you?” Smith said.
“No,” Maude replied, “I don’t remember every pig I’ve been pulled by.”
“A good few years ago you robbed an old lady.”
“I robbed a good few old ladies in those days,” Maude shrugged his shoulders and a smug grin appeared on his face.
Smith was finding it hard to control himself.
“This old lady in particular,” he said, “you knocked her to the gr
ound and she broke her hip.”
Maude’s face changed. He seemed like he was deep in thought.
“The one who died?” he said.
“You got there in the end.” Smith was close to boiling point.
“What of it?” Maude said, “I didn’t mean to kill her. Even the court saw that. What’s this got to do with anything?”
“You don’t feel bad about it?”
Smith was ready to snap; his fists were clenched by his side.
“Why should I feel bad?” Maude said defiantly, “she was old; she would have died soon enough anyway.”
It was like showing a red rag to a bull. The first punch knocked Maude into the wall. He was stunned for a moment but quickly got up and assumed a defensive stance. Blood was flowing from a cut on his lip. He swung a punch but Smith blocked it and landed a right hook on Maude’s nose. A resounding crack could be heard.
“You’ve broken my bloody nose, you pig,” Maude cried, “you’re crazy. All I did was rob your house.”
“You killed my fucking Gran,” Smith screamed.
Maude’s eyes were filled with terror. Smith swung again and connected under Maude’s chin. He landed another blow on the cheekbone. Maude collapsed on the floor. Smith leaned over him and grabbed him by the hair. He continued to land blow after blow; he could not stop himself. He felt himself being pulled from behind. Four arms restrained him and pulled him backwards. Smith was exhausted; he fell to the ground and lay on the floor against the wall. Maude was making quiet whimpering sounds in the corner.
“Smith!” Chalmers barked, “My office. Now! Somebody see to that mess in the corner. If he has to go to hospital, we’re all in deep shit.”