Clifton Falls (12 page)

that, but soon adapted to the question.
“We haven’t seen eye to eye for many years, so maybe he forgot
I existed?” The staring increased as he tried to hypnotize her. “I’ve
just been contacted by the police. Is he all right?”
He needed a reason for the flowers so couldn’t suggest that he
knew the man was dead. Hazel had a duty to tell the truth, whether
she believed him or not, so reached out to hold Chris’ left hand
before giving him a short but exact account of what’d happened to
the married couple.
“Didn’t anyone tell you his wife was involved in the accident as
well?”
Chris took his talents to another level, as his eyes now dripped
fake tears. “No. They never... Can I see them?”
“No. They’ve been taken to the morgue to be examined…” She spoke coldly to him. Chris guessed she was weighing him
up, so knew he needed more artillery to keep up this pretence. “Maybe you could put the flowers in water and wait for the
funeral to use them.”
Chris felt his false beard slowly peeling away, so needed to act
fast before Hazel noticed and called security. A quick exit for a few
minutes couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Sorry, but I must use the rest room. I had too much kebab
earlier and I think it wants to come out and say hello.”
Before Hazel could fathom out what the man was going on
about, he’d darted off in the direction of the toilet sign. Chris was
given a lucky escape this time. He put the flowers down, restoring
the beard before anyone else came into the gents. He then checked
the Dictaphone to make sure it was still recording.
Hazel remained in the same spot when he returned from the
toilet. Chris now had glue patches installed around the cheeks of his
face as he continued thrusting questions at the poor, shocked
woman. Hazel now pictured the man jerking off in the toilet, as the
glue reminded her of semen stains. She never mentioned it as Chris
wiped the sticky solution away.
He needed vital information before the tape ran out. “Can I see them, please?”
It took another minute before he finally received a second
answer. Hazel thought about saying “no” again but didn’t want to
look a complete fool if the freaky person turned out to be the
nephew after all.
“Okay, but only for a few minutes. They’re disfigured, so if you
haven’t got a strong stomach, don’t go there.”
This was Chris she was talking to. He would swim through a
swimming pool full of horseshit to get a story. He was up for this
big time. “I’ll be okay. Just lead the way.”
She escorted him down to the room of death and they stood
outside the main part of the morgue. Hazel explained that she
would have to check on the deceased before he went inside. After a
couple of minutes the door opened for Chris to walk in. He
prepared himself for what was about to hit him hard in the face. He knew he had to look at the dead couple and also knew that he had to act the part of the grieving relative. Hazel directed him over to the two tables containing the bodies of Vincent and Mary. Chris stood between them while Hazel and Ted, (a member of the Pathology Department), held the sheets covering the dead couple. Hazel said. “Okay, if you’re ready then we’ll remove the sheets
from their heads.”
Chris composed himself, taking probably his deepest breath
ever. “I’m ready.”
The sheets were pulled back to the shoulders and Chris glanced
at the bodies. He expected to witness a sight so grotesque that he
was prepared for the throwing up and collapsing thing, but it never
came. Mary’s head and face were bandaged, whilst Vincent’s
eyelids were stuck down. The bodies hadn’t been examined
properly and because of the short notice, Ted had managed to make
the Smythes look more respectable than a few minutes before. The
appearance portrayed confused Chris.
How can I tell if Mary was indeed Mary? She looks like one of those
ancient mummy characters.
But still he agreed that the bodies were indeed his false relatives.
A passing hand across the forehead, the sudden failing of legs, he
was doing it all just to cover his tracks. He should’ve been using this
time to offload questions for his tape, but somehow his mind filled
with the recent pictures and his intended job was put to one side. Hazel escorted Chris out of the room, leading him back to the
main part of the building. She kept up the nice act all the way to the
end, but Chris still wasn’t convinced that she was sucked in like
he’d hoped.
He decided to leave in search of new information. He did have
someone in mind for more info, but somehow had a feeling that the
other person wouldn’t be as polite. Even though Chris was on
talking terms with the chief it didn’t mean that Mike would be
welcoming him with open arms if he was to visit his house. The time was 7.00pm, and the latest news update had just been
read. A major story was now out about the deaths of the locals. This
was going to be a test of everyone’s patience. How long would it
take before a mass hysteria broke out? It all depended on how much
information the man on the television leaked.
Chris stopped his car outside Mike’s house. He was looking like
his usual self again, but maybe he should’ve left the disguise on if
he had plans on being invited inside. The doorbell rang, but there
was no reply. Mike was sleeping away the day’s trauma, but for
how much longer would he get peace? Repeatedly it rang, but still
nothing.
Chris was on the verge of giving up for the night but decided on
taking a sneaky look through the living room window. It was
probably a force of habit for him to do this. The television was on.
He glanced around the room, only stopping after a pair of human
legs was spotted. He banged on the window until Mike woke up.
Chris wasn’t bothered that the chief needed rest. He reckoned that if
he was still working then Mike should be. Maybe this was the
reason why he never got on with anybody?
Legs manoeuvred onto the carpet. Mike stared at the other man,
hoping this was just a dream, the reporter wasn’t really there, and
he could go back to sleep, but now had a feeling that sleep time was over. Which was worse for Mike, facing those crazy fucks or having a visit from Chris? It would definitely be a close call to make. Mike’s hands rubbed against tired eyes in order to view the other man
better.
“What do you want?” he shouted.
“Open the door. I want to speak to you about something.” “I’m very tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
Chris knew he had the other man rattled. “No. I need to talk to
you now.” Reluctantly, Mike opened the door. “Did you hear the
news report? What did you think?” Chris asked.
“Shit, I missed it. What did you say?” said Mike, gesturing to
Chris to come inside.
“I never had time to read it. I’ve been very busy with my own
investigations.” Mike frowned, and wasn’t happy that someone else
was given the story to read. “I can see you’re worried, but don’t be.
Nothing was leaked out. I gave them the story that I told the people
in the street.”
Mike looked seriously irritated, and if Chris carried on with his,
‘hey, we got away with it and don’t you worry about a thing’, chat,
then there could be an altercation happening very soon. “Were you born stupid? I told you what happened in good faith.
Meaning, I wanted you to run the story.”
Chris sensed that the other man was ready to blow his top.
Maybe this was the right time to treat Mike with more respect,
he
thought.
“I never told them the truth, you have to believe that. I want to
help you sort it out.”
“Help sort it, don’t make me laugh. All you want is a good story
to make you famous.”
Chris had a way of escaping near death moments and what he
said next verified that. “I know, but if you solve this mystery then
you’ll also be famous.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
The reporter had succeeded. The chief smiled again and the
altercation was put on hold.
Mike made his way into the kitchen as Chris sat down. He
returned with two glasses filled with whiskey and handed one to
Chris. The reporter explained his visit to the hospital and that he
was nearly identified by the chief nurse. Mike laughed out loud,
almost choking whilst swallowing some of the liquid.
“What you laughing for?” Chris said in a baffled tone. “I’ve seen that nurse, and she’s one scary lady.”
“You’re telling me.”
Mike was back on serious mode again and needed Chris to do
the same. “Be more careful the next time you try anything like this.”
Mike shook his head. “In fact, I don’t want you sniffing for clues
unless you get the nod from me. Is that understood?”
Chris nodded his approval, taking a sip from his glass. They watched the television in their quest to witness a repeated
news report. After about an hour of solid, mind-boggling drinking,
the local news came on. Chris needed more input. He thought this
could be the right time to ask Mike some very personal questions on
the day’s events. Mike eagerly watched the news as the other man threw out questions to be answered. Maybe he was helping the
police now, but Chris was still a reporter who needed a story. “So, Mike.” Chris tried hard to concentrate, but his words never
flowed like earlier. “What did the nurse say…to…you?” A hiccup occurred following the last few words. This caused the
half-cut man to sit and smile into nothingness.
Even if Mike wanted to discuss the conversation with Hazel,
couldn’t. It wasn’t because he was the chief of police; it was because
of the drink. He was in another world from the alcohol too. Chris couldn’t keep up with Mike in the drinking game and his
eyes slowly shut down for the night. The questions stopped just as
quickly as they appeared, so whatever the little man was asking
would have to wait for when they were both fully focused again.
Mike managed to stay awake long enough to check out the latest
news report about Clifton Falls, and seemed satisfied with what was
said. He then removed himself out of his seat, headed upstairs,
fetched a blanket, returned, and placed it over the new guest who
was now spread out on the settee, sucking his thumb and numb to
what was happening around him. He then went back upstairs to lie
down on top of a more comfortable piece of furniture.

SIXTEEN

Blake and Karen had also witnessed the recent news report, but what seemed to be a reasonable account of the day’s activities for the chief, was somehow seen as a shocking, confusing, and heartbreaking moment for these two.

The police lied to us about the mysterious deaths of Mr and Mrs Smythe, but why? Why would they make up a story about this?
Blake thought.

Ferocity overtook him after listening to the dribble, so an explanation needed supplying, but who was lying? He had to find a reason. “I’m off to the police station to get some answers. Something isn’t right here. Why did the newsreader say there was a domestic between two households when we were told something else? Maybe there’s more to it and that’s why we haven’t seen the bodies.”

“Why don’t you just phone the police station?” said Karen. “No, I want to see them try to wriggle out of this.” Blake was mad, not mad for himself, but mad that Karen wasn’t told the truth.

“I’ll phone you soon.”

She watched her husband grab his coat and race out of the house. She wasn’t going to stop him. It was easier to let him deal with the frustration in his own way. Blake knew that the story they were told at the hospital sounded too comical to be true. He’d accepted it because his wife was upset, but it was all becoming clearer now.

He parked his car and rushed into the station. He then raced up to George, who was a part-time, semi-retired, sixty year old police constable/receptionist.

“Hello Sir. What can I do for you then?”
“I want to speak to the main man, you know, the officer in charge?” Blake’s voice tone increased as each word raced out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry, but if you don’t lower your voice then you’ll have to leave the premises.”
The older man wasn’t stern enough with his approach to distract Blake on his course to find the truth.
“I’ll calm down when I see the boss. Where is he?”
“I don’t think you heard me properly, young man. I told you to sort your temper out or risk being shown the door. Now, what’s it going to be?”
Blake stopped in his tracks. The second attempt worked. George wasn’t bullshitting, so Blake needed another method in order to get anything out of him.
“Okay, I’m calm.” Blake glanced around the empty appearance of the police station. “Why aren’t there any officers here tonight?”
“You’re being nosey.”
Blake received a shorthand version of the whereabouts of the staff. George’s chat about them being around but not needed, started off Blake’s crazy thinking. He wasn’t going to leave it alone. He’d come this far and someone, somewhere, was going to explain the situation.
“I’ve heard there’s been some unexplainable stuff going on. Do you know anything about it?”
This question put the other man on the defensive.
“Are you a reporter or just a nosey bastard?” George said. Blake had no answer for either question, so, just smiled. “Anyway, you came in here searching for the boss. You wanted to see him about something, so what was it?”
“I want a word with him. Do you know where I can find him?”
“He’ll be at home about this time, why?”
“I need to speak to him because I know about the deaths.”
Blake should’ve kept this information to himself because it freaked the other person out. George thought Blake was talking about all the deaths from that day and panicked.
Maybe this man was one of the murderers. Maybe he came in to give himself up.
George thought.
George wasn’t taking any chances. He stepped back and instantaneously withdrew his gun from the holster, aiming it in the direction of the puzzled looking man.
“Don’t move scumbag. Place your hands on the desk and keep still.”
The sudden attack of forceful words stunned Blake into submission, and he did what was required. George moved from behind the desk, and with his free hand searched Blake’s body for weapons. When he was done, began to investigate the other man’s story. “Now, you explain again what you just told me.”
“Look man, you’re scaring me. Please put that gun away.”
“Not until I’m one-hundred-percent certain that you’re not a killer.”
Blake nearly raised a cheeky smile, but the sight of the weapon put him off. That, plus the other person’s mood, was enough for him to hold back. “Me, a killer, you’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not kidding, fuck face. What do you know about the deaths?”
Blake’s plan wasn’t working. He only wanted to let off some steam but was now being accused of murder.
“The deaths, the deaths have just been mentioned on the television.”
Now it was the constable’s turn to wish he was somewhere else. “So, it’s appeared on the news now. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” A smirk of embarrassment replaced the serious emotion. George’s eyes lit up for some reason, and it had something to do with the news. “Did that sexy woman read it? She makes me horny.”
He acted like a tongue-wagging dog. Blake visualized him whistling sexual tunes. Of course he wasn’t, but for a split second it seemed he was.
“You must be thinking about sky sports news because the only female you get on the news is that overweight, dragon faced, mud wrestler looking woman.”
“Yes, that’s her, isn’t she a stunner?”
Blake didn’t answer back. He couldn’t think of anything to say about George’s taste in the opposite sex.
Both men felt more relaxed so George put the gun away.
“What’s with the gun? The news report was about a domestic, but you’re waving a gun about.”
George needed a suitable explanation and fast. “I was just being careful. I’m just edgy sometimes, especially after what happened with the Christmas robbery…”
Blake seemed to accept the answer. Why wouldn’t he when Karen still had flashbacks in her dreams?
“So, you already knew about the deaths, but you came here to tell the chief you already knew. That’s weird.”
“I came here to have it out with him because he lied to me. He told me that Mr and Mrs Smythe died from an electrical current, but I know that was one big lie.”
“Look, mate, I wish I could help you, I really do, but I’ve only been on duty for a short while. I don’t know what’s been going on today. Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll ring the chief.”
A disturbing sound echoed inside Mike’s home as five rings sounded, but there was no answer. The sequence was repeated for the next few minutes. Still there was nothing. This was down to the fact that both men in that house were too smashed to hear the phone, never mind actually answering it. George looked over at Blake, shrugged his shoulders and replaced the handset. His next clever idea was to phone another officer. This time a voice was heard on the other end. Wayne had woken up and wasn’t sounding in the best of moods. The only reason he’d answered the phone was because he thought it might be the chief, however, George’s voice was proof that it wasn’t, but it still had Wayne in a fit of worry.
“You tell Mike I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
He searched for his clothes whilst listening to the other man.
“Mike’s not here,” said George.
“Right, so why are you phoning me at this time of night?”
George peered down at his watch and scrunched up his cheekbones. “It’s only a quarter to nine. I didn’t expect you to be sleeping already?”
Wayne realized it was a false alarm and slowed down.
“Yeah, man, it’s been a very hectic day.”
George explained his reason behind the call but Wayne wasn’t in the mood for this, especially if it was the person who he thought it could be. “Is his name Blake by any chance?”
George turned to the other man again. “Is your name Blake?” The mystery man nodded his approval. “Yes it is, why?” George continued.
“I’ve spoken to him already today. Mike told him they died from some electrical fault.”
“I know, but he doesn’t believe that story anymore, well, not since it was mentioned on the news.”
Even Wayne had missed the report. He sighed.
“Okay, George. I’m on my way, just keep him there.”
Blake felt better now the police were taking this seriously. Maybe he could have a quick explanation and then get back to his worried wife.
George walked over to the drinks machine and placed money in it. “Do you fancy a coffee while you wait?”
“Okay,” replied Blake.
George then moved back to the counter, fetching a packet of chocolate biscuits from his snack drawer. “These will do nicely. Just the tonic to go with a nice cup of coffee...”
Both men sat down with their drinks. George offered Blake a biscuit and the waiting began.