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Read books online » Drama » Suddenly it became a man by Daniel Scott (book club books .txt) 📖

Book online «Suddenly it became a man by Daniel Scott (book club books .txt) 📖». Author Daniel Scott



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drink, I couldn’t sit or stand without feeling nauseous for lack of substance. Anticipation followed boredom followed mental turmoil that manifested over time into a physical pain in my lower back. The aching pain increased the longer I waited, the longer I was patient, and the more I listened for some sign of life and heard nothing.

Another hour hungry with an aching back bored away and then another and another in the same painful fashion, the constant dim light adding a painful headache to my list of torments.

‘What’s going on?’

I banged my open palms against the steel door.

‘What is going on? Someone speak to me’

Loud and strong my voice carried powerfully the way I knew Kyle Lesley wanted, I don’t know where it came from but I was pleased as seconds later there came footsteps toward my cell, keys rattled into the lock and at last the door opened. There was a man on the other side dressed in a dark suit and tie next to the officer with the keys and the handcuffs that awaited me.

 

They led me into a bright room with a large mirror set into the wall, one table two chairs a camera and a tape recorder, after I sat down I was freed from the handcuffs, the suited man sat facing me at the table.

‘Am I in trouble? I don’t understand what’s happening.’

He held up his hand for silence while ejecting a tape from the machine and putting it back in and pressing record. He read out a short statement for the benefit of the recording then addressed me.

‘You were picked up at Kipper hotel. Who were you travelling with?’

‘That’s right I’m staying there, I’m not travelling with anyone’

‘Where were you last night?’

‘I was at the hotel’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes’

‘That’s not my information’

‘I’m sorry yes I was with some one, I went to the bar for a few drinks before bed with someone I met on the way to the Hotel’

‘Right, did he have a name?’

‘Tom Baker, I don’t really know him’

He looked away from me to mirror and made a hand gesture.

‘You don’t know really know him, did you two have drinks?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry I thought this was about my speeding?’

‘What happened to Mr. Baker after you had drinks?’

‘He left I went to my room I was tired, what’s this about?’

‘You tell me, we all want to know, you have a reputation now we’ll get the whole story in your confession, when you’re put away you’ll be famous.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about or Tom if that’s what you’re thinking, I’m an Actor’

‘Not Tomas then?’

‘I was broke down on the roadside, he drove up and helped me we talked and we had a few beers after that’s it?’

‘The motive was his kindness toward you?’

‘Motive I don’t know what you mean? Where is he? I’m sure he was staying somewhere near the hotel, if you bring him in here he’ll explain everything honestly’

‘Sadly we can’t do that, he’s dead’

‘He’s dead?’

‘Yes he died from his injuries’

‘Injuries, what happened?’

‘Bludgeoned, lots of blood, no prints, well there were no prints until you decided in the aftermath - which we’re all grateful for - to prize out his wallet and drivers licence. Why did you do that?’  

‘No the only time I touched Tom’s wallet was when he showed me pictures of his family! I’m shocked he’s dead it’s terrible, I’ve got nothing to do with it, I wouldn’t dare raise my voice to that man he was twice my size, I don’t understand why you think I’d attack him?’

‘A man twice your size?

He made another hand gesture at the mirror and an officer came in with a group of files and handed them to him, he opened the first on the table in front of me and began peeling out horrific photographs of a bloody scene.

First a hammer stained thickly with dark blood, then one of a ruined man bloody and dead, the top of his head concaved as if it were as pliable as a rubber dolls pressed in by thumbs. It was hard to look.

‘What is that? Why are you showing me this?’

Mortified I tore my eyes away from the gruesome images, swallowing back the bile that had crept into my mouth involuntarily.

By the time I recovered the next picture came, I looked at it for a moment the young man pictured was eerily familiar.

‘I can see you do recognise him.’

Slowly I realised exactly who I was looking at, the boy with the proud smile it was Tomas Baker young, about twenty years old now, more pictures came but strangely none of which did he look any older.

‘Tom went missing on Friday, this is most recent photograph’

He showed me the last picture Tom draping his arm over the shoulder of a pretty girl.

One look and the reality of the situation dawned on me all the images meshed into one another like a jigsaw melting together in a mental forest fire. Tom was dead, he was a boy not a man, he was a generous helpful boy a cheerful soul but I never met him, I held his wallet, I saw his family and I shook the hand of the man that killed him.  

‘Tom was five foot eight, nineteen years old, which means he was shorter than you, everyone who met him said he was a pleasant boy but not you, you murdered him.’

The battery of questions continued, I answered them all reiterating and spewing detail, explaining why’s and where’s and when’s, adamantly fighting for my innocence.

It went on and on, the suited man was referred to as Detective by the other officials that came in and out of the interrogation room, all of which gave him a great deal of reverence and I endured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five: Anticipation

 

 

Gradually the nature of the man I was suspected of being was revealed through the long list of his victims. They clearly knew a lot about his movements but nothing about his appearance as I in no way physically resembled Tom Baker’s killer.

He left the room part way through a loaded question about my preference to travel for work when an officer called him out. After a short time he came back in and continued his interrogation focusing on my background and my career.

I felt the ordeal coming to a close when he after stepping out of the room brought me back a cup of coffee, I hated coffee but thirst had already knighted the sickly sweet, and crowned any drink that could quench it a godsend.

The detective’s change of heart felt false and his expression cunning.

He stopped the tape.

‘Times up’

I was escorted out to the main desk and released as spontaneously as I was taken in, Benjamin was waiting for me, it turned out he’d been fighting my corner on the outside since he found out I had been arrested.

He rejoiced when he saw me emerging lethargically from the Police station, he grabbed me by the arms like a father.

‘Let’s get out of here are you unwell, what’s wrong with your back, were you beaten?’

‘Where have you been?’

‘Looking for you, I couldn’t find you at the Hotel, the Police were impounding your car, you didn’t have a phone and the police wouldn’t speak to me what do you expect?’

‘Well it’s good to see you.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Remember Tom that Mr. Helpful I told you about? He was murdered’

‘No?’

‘Yes, tell you everything later, got anything to eat?’

‘I have a bit of sandwich in the car are you hungry?’

‘Sounds great, lead the way’

It was late and cold and I didn’t have my jacket since I’d left it in my hotel room, I didn’t expect to be walking anywhere.

‘I’ll take you to my house after cook you some toast’

‘Fine, thanks Ben, so the police wouldn’t speak to you, how did you find out where I was?’

‘Yes, I was about to leave but you’re friend at the hotel told me what happened’

‘What, which friend?’

‘He told me all about it he said he saw the Police taking you and knew which station was closest, he was right’

‘Ben I asked you which friend?’

‘I don’t remember his name, what’s the matter with you?’

‘Ben it’s important what did he look like?’

‘Why is it important? If you want to thank him he’s in the car’

‘He’s in the car, your car? Ben I need you to think carefully, did he say his name was Tom?’

‘No, definitely not I’d remember that’

‘Did he have a beard?’

‘What did they do to you in there? You sound like a paranoid no he hasn’t got a beard, what are you planning to do kiss him or shake his hand?’

We walked another thirty seconds to the car each step arduous and heavy like those of a ladder leading up to a high wire or a diving board set over shallow water.

Ben popped his door open jumped straight in and started searching the compartments like a ferret for the sandwich he promised.

Outside I gazed in at my mysterious friend slouched in the back through the window and condensation hoping not to alert him.

‘It’s open’

Ben opened my door for me confused by my hesitation.

I leaned in gingerly but the view gave nothing away, he was asleep with his face turned onto his palm.

I couldn’t make out his face completely, he wore thick spectacles, had neatly combed brown hair not black, and just like Ben said didn’t have a beard.

He held vague resemblance of someone I met at the Jacky Mendisa Screening and though I couldn’t accept it completely I was satisfied that he wasn’t that Tom Baker I met and finally took a seat in the car.

Ben stared at me with an improving smile and a crust of bread wrapped clumsily in cellophane, he glanced into the back at the sleeping passenger, looked back at me, then the road shook his head with a sigh and turned his keys in the ignition.

The mild vibration of the engine played with my seat and hummed delightfully into my sore back, I relaxed into its jiggling motion.

He opened my window slightly with a button on the dashboard and nodded up at me for approval.

I gave it.

The chilling air hit my face while hunger squeezed my stomach, at graceful miles an hour with the wind in my face the distant view of an open restaurant was glowing like a beacon in the distance while I contemplated the value of my freedom.  

‘Think they do toast there?’ I jested.

Ben half smiled at me noticing my mood had changed

‘I heard the audition went well’

‘Don’t go on about it Ben… It did for Jean’

He was smiling, trying to play my failure down by teasing me, it was typical of course for Ben not to know when to stop and typically he meant well, but even knowing that didn’t make it any less annoying.

‘For Jean you say? Okay yes that’s right he got the role. I was shocked he’s not even good, I spoke with Kyle he said you looked like an angry dog.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I know I laughed he’s a funny man.’

‘You’re a good agent, laughing at me while I’m having a rough time’

‘I’m just saying Jean got that part, it’s okay there are other roles’

‘So what’ I exclaimed

‘I’ll tell you, I should never have offered you that role as Duke’

‘Do

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