Finnigan’s Point
Marc Antony Cutler
Marc Antony Cutler 2012
Published at Smashwords
Finnigan’s Point
By Marc Antony Cutler
Chapter One
Terence Kane stood alone at his bedroom windows, watching the rain roll down them like an endless stream of tears. It was only 5am but as usual he was up and wide awake. His craggy, weather worn face held the dancing shadows of the droplets in it’s aged lines. The bags under Kane’s eyes held the luggage of the sleep he’d been depriving himself recently. Every sleepless phase felt like a longer cycle than the last. He couldn’t explain it, there was no real reason. He could work hours upon hours, feeling as though his eyes would not stay open but when it came to the night, his head would hit that pillow and his mind would re-awaken. It was as if his body had a vendetta against him, lulling him into a false sense of security, only to make him endure the waking hours, watching the minutes tick by on the digital clock face, taunting him with the time remaining until the day would begin again. He wasn’t given to suffering stress, in fact, in his own words, he rarely gave a damn about anything, except of course himself.
Forty six years old, a good looking rugged man, deep brown eyes like the finest chocolate with cropped dark hair, he certainly was a catch, yet despite this, the perennial singleton. Many a time he had been compared to various Hollywood actors, but his own self serving personality had always resulted in the consumption of any flowering romance. That’s not to say he was selfish, he wasn’t, but his life had always revolved around his work, there never really seemed to be time to concentrate on anything else. Now, past middle aged, and probably past his best, it seemed work would be all Kane ever would have the time for. A wasted life perhaps to some, but not to Terrence Kane. He’d only ever really been interested in making himself happy and in his own way, he was.
For the greater part of his life Kane had been a well respected Police Detective but ultimately, Kane outgrew the Force. Early on in his career the Police Force stood for everything he wanted to achieve in life, it always matched his own beliefs and goals. Eventually though, it succumbed to Government beaurocracy, as most things seemed to and both his and the goals of the Force went their separate ways, drifting like a melting iceberg.
Kane left the force and became a Private eye, it seemed like natural progression to him. He served the publics needs, as he’d always wanted to and continued to uncover the hidden truth around every street corner. In his mind, Kane continued to be what he’d always aspired to be. In reality, the well worn, slightly craggy man was a typical gumshoe for hire.
Maybe, had he concentrated just a fraction of the time spent making a wasted career on forming some kind of meaningful relationship with the opposite sex, Kane would have found himself just as much the Private Eye, but at least married with perhaps a family. There’s much to be said about building a career, but more to be said about gilding a family, something Kane would probably never now know.
All was not lost for Kane though, the years he’d spent honing his skills as one of the best Detective’s around were not a total waste and as they say form is temporary, class is permanent. Kane was now sought after property, even the Police themselves would occasionally use him. He was known for getting the job done, a perfectionist, never willing to settle for mediocrity.
Now Terrence Kane was still single, still alone, but a well worn and well used Private Eye, somebody those who wished to keep their secrets safe and their internal turmoil locked away tight, turned to. In this town, that was regularly, the streets were covered in filth and not the kind the dustmen could remove on a weekly basis. The whole area was rife with scum. The levels of crime and the ferocity of the nature of the criminal acts had increased and incensed year on year, but nothing seemed to be done about it. Kane’s town was not a nice place to live but despite it’s faults, it was an unrivalled place to work. Terrence Kane was never a wealthy man but now, he was considerably better off than ever before. So much for the career and the Police pension, just about everybody out there had a secret they needed uncovered, which is exactly why he was ready to go out this damp, humid and miserable morning. There was money to be made and secrets and lies to uncover.
Standing there looking out of that rain soaked window into the blackness of the ending night, soon to be the dimness of the morning light, Kane thought about the previous day and the conversation he’d had with the man he was now working for, just a day later. Something had bothered him about Clarke Donovan, something that he couldn’t put his finger on. Kane worked on first impressions and for the most part, it had always served him well. Kane’s mind drifted back to that day before.
The house he’d arrived at was well turned out and clearly looked after and much larger than anywhere he’d ever lived himself. The garden had looked almost as if it were being prepared for a flower show, such an array of colour sprung from it in the beautiful sunshine this typical of British weather had displayed only a day before.
There at the door stood Mr Donovan, a man in his early fifties, smartly and dapper dressed leaning up against the door frame, seemingly without a care in the world.
He’d telephoned Kane only the day previously to arrange to meet him. Usually Kane only met possible clients at the office, but this man had been insistent that Kane visit him. Donovan’s desire to take Kane out of his safety zone was he first warning bell for Kane and right there, he’d seriously considered turning the job down. He couldn’t understand why the man had been so insistent Kane go to him. Kane could see why thought as he walked down the garden path. Had he lived here, he’d also be reluctant to venture to his living Hell part of the town and insistent on sharing it beauty with those less fortunate. Looking at the Monet-esque garden, Kane instantly felt less fortunate.
Mr Donovan smiled at Kane, but only with his mouth, his eyes were vacant and elsewhere. He looked as though he was just using the body to exist in, internally he appeared practically dead. The relaxed assured man from a distance looked lethargic and devoid of any kind of confidence up close, as if each breath would surely be his last.
Kane held his hand out. “Terrence Kane” he said. Mr Donovan seemed to take an age to respond as he stared through Kane, with the same vacant expression, matched with his eerie smile. “Clarke Donovan” he replied, shaking Kane by the hand in a limp and unenthusiastic manner “Please, come through”.
Donovan led Kane through a long hallway towards the living room. The hallway was lined with mirrors and pictures, of equal number. Kane reflected throughout the length of the hall as he slowly ventured down it, thinking that he’d probably never seen so many mirrors outside of a travelling fair. His shoes squeaked on the wooden flooring with every step. The squeals of his footwear reverberating around him.
The décor inside was old, even older than the man leading Kane down the hall. “Lived here long?” Kane asked.
Donovan stopped for a brief moment, as if he was unable to walk and think at the same time. “All of my life, this place was my parents, I grew up here” Donovan began to walk again, leading Kane into the living room, while pointing towards an old worn armchair, presumably for Kane to sit in, rather than draw his attention to. It was old and threadbare and Kane worried it would collapse as he sat down, but it felt sturdier than it appeared when he finally did. The living room itself was walled in flock paper, with a patterned brown carpet. Kane felt he could easily have walked straight into a scene from a seventies television series such was the authenticity of this decorating nightmare.
“My Wife is having an affair” Donovan said coldly, answering a question nobody had asked him.
“And you’re sure?” Kane responded, linking the fingers of each hand together on his lap.
“Absolutely, I know, the signs are there” Donovan said, still standing.
Kane thought for a short while “Those signs may not be what you think they are Mr Donovan, have you actually tried speaking to your wife and asking her?” Kane said.
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot, however she does insist on treating me like one. I know she only married me for money” Donovan responded, his face reddening with either embarrassment or anger.
“Well, if she is having an affair Mr Donovan, I will find out, of that you can be one hundred percent assured” Kane replied, confidently.
“You don’t look like a Private Eye” Donovan said.
“We don’t all look like Phillip Marlowe, and neither would we want to” Kane answered, smiling. Donovan still had that blank, almost cold expression. He handed an envelope to Kane.
“This is where she’ll be today, at work, but then she’ll be going to lunch and doing whatever it she does, with him” Donovan looked at Kane in a way that made him feel as if he was the one being accused. There was something odd about Donovan that Kane wasn’t sure of. Everything he said and did seemed scripted and pre-meditated. There was nothing natural about the way Donovan spoke and behaved and that unnerved Kane.
“Listen, if you’re that sure, then you probably don’t need me” Kane answered “I wouldn’t just take your money for the sake of it”
“NO!” Donovan snapped back before Kane had even finished his last word. “You don’t understand Mr Kane, I do know what is going on, but I need to see it, I need the evidence, when I divorce her, she gets nothing, that bitch gets absolutely nothing” Donovan spat this last words out with sheer unadulterated hatred and anger.
“I understand Mr Donovan” Kane said, “I’ll do what you need”.
“This is all my own fault Mr Kane” Donovan said “She’s twenty years my junior, I should have known this would happen”. Kane wasn’t sure what to say to this, he guessed, if that were the case, Donovan had really opened himself up to the possibility of something like this happening. He couldn’t say so though. Kane looked at the picture of the pretty blonde he was holding and then looked at the hardened old face of Donovan. Yes, he really should have seen it coming.
Kane promised to let Donovan know as soon as he had some news, negative or otherwise and quickly made his way out of the house. Walking away from the place, in the now humid and muggy daytime air, the whole area didn’t feel as inviting as it had when he arrived. He looked back at the figure of Mr Donovan again, watching this time from the window. Kane couldn’t help feeling as though the air was trying to warn him of some kind of impending doom. The whole place felt creepy all of a sudden, out there in the middle of nowhere. What had appeared homely and inviting, the perfect retreat when he arrived was now the last place Kane wished to be. He craved the squalid familiarity of home. As Kane continued to retreat away from Donovan’s house, he could almost feel the man’s eyes piercing through the back of his skull.
Chapter Two
Sometimes, in fact most times, the job of a Private Eye was particularly boring, nothing like you see in the movies at all. Little fun and practically no adventure, just sitting around waiting and watching.
Kane sat in the driver seat of his car, the one place, other than his flat, he spent most time. His car was, to all intents and purposes, his office. He’d situated himself outside Mrs Donovan’s place of work just as he had been told to. Kane knew Donovan’s wife was inside, innocently working away, unaware a man outside was preparing to blow her world apart. Kane sometimes found himself wracked with guilt. The time he spent alone in the car gave him ample and often unwanted opportunity to think. For all he knew Mr Donovan could be no more than a wife beating control freak. Mrs Donovan’s extra curricular activity may well be her only source of enjoyment out of a miserable existence. However, Kane had to put those thoughts aside, Mr Donovan had employed him to do a job and it was his duty to fulfil that role, irrespective of whether he enjoyed it. Working as a Police Officer Kane had fast learned, it was not enjoying the job which got the bills paid.
Kane looked down at the picture of the pretty blonde woman Donovan had given him. Mrs Donovan was extremely attractive and Kane couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing with a man like Donovan. It couldn’t be money, if she was that well off she wouldn’t still be working and looking at the interior of the house, it was hardly screaming wealth from every wall. Relationships, although seemingly intense and real at the time did, invariably, turn stagnant and routine. Kane expected that was the reason behind Mrs Donovan’s fall from grace, as opposed to anything else.
Kane sat there reading a paper, enlightening himself with endless stories of how the world, and especially the country, were in total turmoil and on their way to capitulation, if you believe the scaremongering press.
Kane wondered how Mrs Donovan would feel, if she were to know a man was sitting outside her place of work waiting for her to make a wrong move. He wondered how he would feel if it happened to him. Not happy, he surmised, but then who the hell would want to watch him? There really wasn’t anybody interested enough in what was going on with Terrence Kane, little ever was.
Before too long Mrs Donovan made her way out of the building. Kane looked at his watch, the time had just gone past one in the afternoon so he guessed she was presumably off to lunch. She walked along the high street continuing her journey for around five minutes, oblivious to Kane, slowly following her on foot. He watched her graceful movements along the pavement. Hardly a man she passed failed to notice her. She would stand out in any crowd. Kane had decided trailing her in the car could well turn out to be a wrong move, just in case she took an alleyway or a shortcut he couldn’t get down. The whole town was littered in one way streets and following by car could often prove to be a hindrance rather than a help.
That had happened to him before, tailing a young guy who’d been suspected of filtering away money from his companies bank accounts. Something as simple as an alleyway proved to be a real bugbear for a vehicle encased Private Eye.
After a short while of walking Mrs Donovan stopped outside a candle shop where she was met by a towering black man, probably 6ft 5 at least. His girth alone doubled Kane’s size and he involuntarily stepped back a bit, his natural instinct turning towards self preservation. Kane looked at the man, he was three times the size of Donovan. Kane also guessed the man was likely to cause him considerable injury if he spotted him.
The job required an element of risk sometimes and Kane knew he’d have to take a chance if he intended on getting a good shot of the two of them together.
As Mrs Donovan lent forward to kiss the man, Kane was perfectly poised to catch the moment forever in a digital frame.
Still unaware, the two walked off, closely followed by Kane, who now had a shot of them holding hands. So far so good, and possibly the easiest money Kane had made since taking on his freelance position. There had been little chasing around and apart from a few hours staking out the office block, Kane had not had to wait long for a result.
Mrs Donovan and the large black man made their way into a seedy looking motel with it‘s red neon sign flashing in the daylight above. Any uncertainty Kane had about these two evaporated in that instant. Figuring they were not there to admire the décor or make the beds, Kane captured another snap of his prey, as they made their way through the entrance of motel seedy. He watched them retreat inside, completely unaware of his presence and how he’d taken a storyboard of pictures, ready to unveil them to this weeks paying customer.
It was here that the job became extra difficult. Getting pictures of the two on their way to this rendezvous had been easy, but completing the ultimate goal of capturing them in the act, that was going to take some well worn skill or, some fantastic luck.
Kane looked at the side of the building, and spotted the fire escape. Looking up the side of the building he could clearly see four rooms that, should he want to, he’d be able to peer straight into.
Kane looked at the small size of the motel and decided that the odds were good that Mrs Donovan would indeed be in one of those rooms. Of course it was equally as likely they wouldn’t be either.
Kane made his way over to the stainless steel fire escape. The heavy rain from earlier sat in small puddles on each uneven and slightly slippery step.
Kane knew his luck had been in so far today, but couldn’t help but admit the possibility of slipping and breaking his neck on these stairs was probably likely. “It’s meant to be a fire escape” he said to himself “You’d probably break your neck coming down the thing” he said again, talking quietly so as not to look like yet another of the towns randomly talking out loud head cases.
Kane slowly clambered up the apparently unsafe stairs. It wasn’t as slippery or dangerous as he’d visualised, but the metal was surprisingly cold to the touch, despite the stifled heat of the day.
As Kane approached the first window he could hear noises. Peering in, the curtain was open. He could see two figures in the room, not deterred by his movement at all, they were too busy focussing on themselves. Neither figure in the room was Mrs Donovan or her tall, dark stranger, at least Kane hoped neither of the people he was looking at were. Whatever they were doing, it looked painful and although one of the participants was black, they weren’t naturally black.
Onwards to the second window, Kane was disappointed to see the curtain’s had been closed. Whether there was anybody in there he didn’t know, but he figured there was a good chance that Mrs Donovan could well be behind that curtain covered pane. If that was the case then he’d have to revert to the dreaded plan B. He’d only used Plan B twice before, and both times had almost got him killed. It was a simple case of deduction. Once he worked out which room his photo shoot was to take place he’d do the following. Firstly, kick the door open and secondly take some quick shots before running, quickly. The two occasions Kane had done this resulted in him being chased down the corridors by a naked man. Some people really had no shame.
Kane decided to move on and check the other two windows before resorting to such drastic measures, sure that Mrs Donovan would ultimately be in the room with drawn curtains.
He was wrong. In the third room, windows and curtain’s open, there was Mrs Donovan, doing something with the large black man that was definitely not what she’d gone to work to do this morning. Kane took some more photos of the two, both so wrapped up in each other he was pretty sure he could walk straight up to them and get some close ups without being spotted. In fact, the black man was so engrossed, Kane guessed he could get him to sign one of the photos as well.
He didn’t do this of course, he didn’t need to. Kane finished taking his photo’s, observing that the black guy wasn’t just as big all over. “Maybe it’s not true what they say” he thought to himself, as he made his way down the stairs, careful not to slip.
Back at the car Kane called Mr Donovan and told him he had something for him to see. Donovan wanted to know more but Kane assured him it was something he’d be better off showing him face to face.
Hanging up the phone on a frustrated sounding Clarke Donovan, Kane made his way home, to print the evidence and take it to his client.
A couple of hours later Kane had the photos printed and ready to show Mr Donovan. They’d come out well, maybe too well, but Donovan was a paying customer and Kane had to show him exactly what he had paid for. It wasn’t pretty and this part of the job was often the most distressing for Kane, but he knew it had to be done, and he hoped it would be enough to at least give Donovan back some control over his life.
Kane packed the photos into his inside pocket and made his way back down to his car, ready to take the journey to Mr Donovan’s house again, hopefully for the final time.
Kane congratulated himself in his head, it was a good job well done. Easy, but well done all the same.
As he strapped himself into the car and started the ignition, Kane noticed the sky again looked heavy, and he guessed the heavens would open just as he took the walk down Donovan’s long driveway. Still, he consoled himself with the knowledge that so far today, he’d been exceptionally lucky and was about to get paid for his good fortune.
Lightening split the sky and Thunder filled the air as Kane arrived in the exterior woodland of Donovan’s humble abode.
Large drops of rain hit the windscreen of the car like small balls of silver, rolling into his eye line until eventually he gave in and turned the wipers on.
Parking nearer than before, but still far enough away to get quite wet, Kane stopped the car and sat, motionless. He loved the smell of the earth as the rain hit, that aroma of dirt and life filling the air and invading his senses. The rain became quite heavy as the thunder grew louder and more menacing, shattering the stillness above. Kane had always been fascinated by the quiet eeriness before the crack of thunder, the animals in the surrounding areas knowingly hiding from the storm before it had arrived.
As Kane emerged from the car he could clearly see the lights on in the Donovan household and was fairly sure he could also see Donovan’s silhouette standing in the window.
Kane made his way down the driveway and despite it still being only 4pm the sky was black, almost as though it had prematurely turned to night.
Kane reached the front door of Clarke Donovan’s household soaking wet, but for his hood protected head.
Knocking loudly, he waited silently while the sky around him continued to erupt and boom in protest.
The door opened and there stood Donovan. Kane could instantly smell the alcohol on his breath, and was relatively sure that a lighted match just about now could well cause an explosion.
“Come in” said Donovan in a vague and distant voice. Kane said nothing, but followed the deliberately slow man down the mirrored hall. He could sense Donovan was drunk enough to stumble but sober enough to concentrate on his walking. He was probably still a drink or two away from passing out. This for Kane had always been ‘Danger’ phase. The time when he would most likely act stupidly, behave like a total idiot and invariably hurt or offend someone. Kane rarely drunk anymore. He’d never been entirely sure whether he suffered a drink problem or not, but felt that his inability to control it while he was actually consuming alcohol constituted a problem of sorts and so, decided not to drink too often. He’d drink alone, but not with company, because alone, all he could hurt was himself and he was thick skinned enough to take his own insults, internal or otherwise.
Donovan pointed to the same chair as before, and sat in the one opposite.
Sitting down, Kane began to speak. “I’m afraid I have what you wanted” Kane said, as Donovan looked on with his drunken gaze. “What was that?” he replied in a slightly slurred manner.
Kane wasn’t sure what was meant by this, bearing in mind it was Donovan who had sent him off to get the evidence he needed in the first place.
“The photos, what you asked for, some conclusive proof” he replied, before passing the envelope to Donovan. Donovan took the envelope but did not immediately open it. Instead he continued to look at Kane, no longer with the lifeless, vacant smile, but with those equally void eyes.
“Do you like it?” He said to Kane. ‘Like what?’ Kane thought to himself, unsure where this was going. “I don’t understand what you mean Mr Donovan, do I like what?” Kane said, slightly unnerved by Donovan’s continued blank expression.
“Do you like your job Mr Kane, does it fulfil you, embalm your life in richness?” Donovan said, still completely focussing on Kane, and not on the envelope in his hand, the envelope which contained the answers he’d seemed desperate for only the day before.
“No” Kane answered, “It most certainly does not Mr Donovan but it does, whichever way you look at it, pay the bills, which at the end of the day, is all any of us work for. If we didn’t need the money, we wouldn’t do it.” Donovan continued to look at Kane until eventually cracking his pose with a smile.
“Indeed Mr Kane, indeed” he replied. “I doubt there is a single person in this world who would work for a living unless they absolutely needed to” Donovan responded, “Work is not life, it’s a necessity of life as well as a preventative to it, wouldn’t you agree Mr Kane?”.
Kane looked at him, wondering to himself exactly what Donovan was going on about.
“Are you going to open the envelope Mr Donovan?” Kane asked. “It is, after all, what you are paying me for”
“Of course, of course” said Donovan, “How silly of me to assume you’d come here for anything else, you want to see a broken man don’t you?” Kane was disturbed by Donovan’s phrasing. He did not always like being the messenger as more often than not, his client would shoot him down with misplaced blame.
“Absolutely not Mr Donovan, I want to get paid and get the fuck our of here. I’ve done my bit, now it’s time to do yours” Kane responded bluntly, not wanting an awkward conversation.
Donovan’s eyes briefly flickered over Kane’s face before resting on the envelope. With slow assuredness, he opened the envelope, tearing away as if the last flower on earth remain inside and he must do his uppermost to preserve it. Eventually Donovan opened the padded brown envelope and removed the photo’s inside. He seemed to take an age to look at them, examining each one as though he were looking for some evidence they had been falsified.
“Well”, he said “That’s interesting isn’t it? You certainly got some fun out of this job eh?”
Kane looked at the back of the photos. “I get no pleasure from this, in fact, I find it seedy and a little repellent” he replied.
“I bet you do?” said Kane, “It’s like free porn isn’t it, watching those people have sex, while you take pictures? Did you get into this job because you are a voyeur Mr Kane or did the job make you one?” Donovan sniped.
“I got into this job because I could no longer work as a Detective Mr Donovan, so I used the best of my abilities to make a career elsewhere. Like I say, it’s not enjoyable, but it pays the bills” Kane was getting a little pissed at Donovan’s attitude, it wasn’t his fault the guys wife was screwing around, if anything it was Donovan’s.
“I’ll tell you what I hate the most, shall I?” said Donovan. “About me?” enquired Kane. Donovan laughed at this.
“No, about this” he responded, pointing to the photos. “It sickens me that it had to be a nigger, I mean, of all the people she could have let put a cock in her, it had to be a coon didn’t it. I feel physically sick to be honest with you Mr Kane” said Donovan.
Kane was taken aback by the coldness of Donovan’s statement. “I don’t subscribe to your racism Mr Donovan and to be fair, this is something you need to discuss with your wife, not me”
Donovan raised his eyes at this “Sorry, another one of the PC Brigade are we? No wonder this country is fucked”
Kane was no longer in the mood for these games and as a loud crack of thunder erupted he rose from his chair. “Listen Mr Donovan, I’ve done my part, now pay me so I can go and you can have this discussion with your wife”
“Fair enough” replied Donovan as he stood up “I’ll see you out Mr Kane, thank you so much for all your hard work”. He finished the last sentence with a sarcastic undertone, not unnoticed by Kane.
The two men made their way back down the corridor and approached the front door.
“I need my payment Mr Donovan” Kane said as Donovan made a move to turn the front door handle.
“Of course, of course you do. Will this be enough?” he asked, as he pulled a gun out of his belt behind him.
“What are you doing?” Kane said in a fearful tone.
“Paying you Mr Kane” said Donovan as he fired two shots directly into Kane’s chest. In searing, burning pain, and before he could even realise what had happened, Kane sunk to the floor, watching the reflection of his blood stained chest in one of the many walled mirrors. Struggling to intake breath and woozy from the lack of oxygen, Kane just had enough time to witness Donovan blow his own brains all over one of the mirrors and collapse to the floor, before he himself passed out.
Chapter Three
“Mr Kane, Mr Kane” whispered the voice. Suddenly the dark behind Terrence Kane’s eyelids was invaded by the searing light prizing it‘s way between them. “Mr Kane” the soft voice of the woman’s said again, practically whispering.
Slowly opening his eyes, feeling his lashes pull apart from encrustation, Kane’s felt the light pour in, shattering his brain with blistering pulsating bursts. He felt like he’d never seen light so bright, his head entire hurt from the enormity of it. His temples throbbed intensely.
Gradually adjusting to the light, he realised he was laying in a bed, but one which was not familiar to him?
“Mr Kane, it’s so good to see you awake Sir” said the woman’s voice, slightly more audible than before.
Kane’s eyes adjusted further and he could make out the blurred silhouette of a person standing there in the light which was now no longer so strong and fluorescent halogen.
“Who are you?” Kane asked, with a croaky dry voice, almost indistinguishable as his own.
“I’m your nurse Mr Kane” she replied. Kane lie still for a short while, still trying to focus on the woman.
“So I’m in hospital?” Kane responded, his voice still sounding as though it belonged to someone else.
“As far as I’m aware, there are no nurses anywhere else Mr Kane” she replied.
“What happened to me, how long have I been here?” he asked her.
“You were shot Mr Kane” she answered “You sustained some heavy damage, you’ve been in intensive care for the past two weeks, it’s been fifty fifty all the way, but you’re here now, eyes open, so I guess you‘ve made it”
Kane lay still trying to recall what had happened to him and then slowly he remembered Donovan, and the shooting. In the space of five seconds, Kane went from knowing nothing to remembering absolutely everything.
“What is your name?” he asked the nurse. “I’m Jane” she responded, “Jane Henderson”.
Kane’s sight began to improve and he could make her out, in her uniform. She was short, with brown hair and a pleasant face.
“How did I get here?” he asked her “I was alone, I was out in the middle of nowhere”
“You was not alone Mr Kane” she said, “I don’t think you were ever alone”
“Well no, I guess I wasn’t completely alone, otherwise I wouldn’t have been shot, but the man who shot me, I remember, he then shot himself, I remember that clearly” said Kane.
“That’s right” she said, “He did, he killed himself, but his wife turned up in time to call you an ambulance”
“Really, she called me an ambulance?” Kane said. “She had no reason to call me an ambulance, I’m the reason her husband killed himself”
Nurse Henderson laughed at this. “Don’t be silly Mr Kane, he shot himself out of choice, we pieced together what happened from speaking to her, she realised what had happened when she saw the pictures Mr Kane, she saved you”
At that point the door opened and Kane, eyesight fully restored, could see a tall man, in a Doctor’s white coat, standing there in the doorway.
“Nurse Henderson, please leave the room while I talk to the patient” he said.
Nurse Henderson quickly left the room and Kane, alone, with the Doctor.
“Good morning Mr Kane” he said, in a deep rasping voice, which echoed around Kane’s head. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
“I’ve been better” he said “But I’ve been worse as well”
The Doctor laughed at this. “You’re not wrong Mr Kane, we thought we’d never see you here, it was close for a while, but now we’ve arrived at this point and you must be pleased?” he said.
“I am Doctor, extremely, I knew it was bad when he shot me, but exactly how bad was it?” Kane asked him.
“As bad as it could be, bullets in the chest aren’t easy to get over I’m afraid, but you’ve almost made it to the other side now and we’re very pleased with you, it was a long time coming, you really put up a fight” the Doctor said.
“I always do” said Kane. “What sort of recuperation time am I looking at?”
“Well to be honest, once we’ve got you eating and feeling OK in yourself, we’ll move you on. Bullets have been removed and you’re practically as good as new, like it never happened so to speak” The Doctor said.
“That’s great news” replied Kane. “Any ideas of the time then?”
“It’s really up to you” said the Doctor “I am sure you will know when you are ready to move on, but right now, I’d suggest you get some rest and take each moment as it comes”
“Thank you Doc” said Kane, “Thank you for everything”
“It’s my job to take care of you Mr Kane, that’s what I’m here for, don’t thank me” he said.
“You didn’t tell me your name” said Kane.
“Sorry Mr Kane, how rude of me, I’m Dr Hedtolg” replied the Doctor.
“Doctor Hedtolg, not a very English name, yet you sound very local, if you don‘t mind me saying” said Kane.
“Ever the Detective Mr Kane” said Dr Hedtolg “My Father was Norwegian, my Mother on the other hand, she’s a born and bred Londoner, my first name is Rodney!” laughed the Doctor.
“Now that is a proper name Mr Hedtolg” laughed Kane.
“You can call me Rod” said the Doctor.
“And you can call me Terrence” smiled Kane.
“Get some rest now Terrence” said Doctor Hedtolg “You’ll need as much as possible before you go back to being a full time Detective, and not just a hospital one!”
“I think after recent events, I need a career change” said Kane, as Doctor Hedtolg opened the door to leave.
“Don’t let recent events put you off Mr Kane, by all accounts, I understand you are good at what you do” Doctor Hedtolg said.
“Maybe, but I don’t really want to go through anything like this again. I should have gone with my gut feeling and left that case alone” Kane responded.
“If you were unhappy Mr Kane, you should have trusted your gut feeling, they’re rarely wrong you know” Doctor Hedtolg said, “It’s our guardian angels trying to point us in the right direction” Kane smiled at this. He thought about answering but, despite his recent extended rest, still felt tired. A full blown conversation about his beliefs, or lack of them, was not on the current agenda.
“I guess so Doctor Hedtolg” Kane said in response. Doctor Hedtolg smiled.
“Well, I’m sure once your out of here, your passion for being a Detective will reawaken itself” Doctor Hedtolg said, “Once a detective always a detective” he said, as he closed the door quietly behind him. Kane was already asleep before it finally clicked into place.
Kane lay in the bed staring at the matt white ceiling. He’d really come that close to death, surprisingly so. He’d not been too sure about Donovan from the start. Hedtolg was right, he should have gone with his instincts, it’s what had made him a good, no great, detective in the past yet ignoring them had almost got him killed.
He felt angry with Donovan, if it wasn’t for him he wouldn’t be here and at the end of the day, it was Donovan who had employed him, Donovan who had asked him to spy on his wife and Donovan who had wanted to hear what Kane had told him.
Fair enough, if he decided to kill his wife, she probably deserved it, and if he chose to kill himself, then fine as well, not Kane’s problem, but shooting Kane had been unprovoked and unwarranted.
As he lay there reflecting he realised had it not been for Mrs Donovan he’d be dead now as well. He wondered, had she seen the pictures first, the evidence that had led to the blood bath she had returned home to, would she be so quick to pick up that phone and call the ambulance for him? He guessed he’d never know.
Kane had been serious about giving up the Detective work. He’d been secretly sick of it for a while now. It caused so much hurt and pain to others, fairly regularly and now it had caused so much personal harm to him, he really did think enough was enough. Time to move on, but go where? That he hadn’t decided, but he knew he needed a change of scenery. Looking out of his window, the rain again poured down the panes of glass. He wondered if it had been raining as long as he’d been in intensive care, knowing England, it probably had.
‘Intensive Care’ thought Kane, that really was bad, the closest to death he’d ever been. He guessed that having worked in the police force for so long, and in a particularly failing society, he’d been lucky up until now.
Kane had given up believing in God a long time ago, figuring that if he believed he was just going to die and be no more, then if anything really did exist after death, it would be a bonus. By thinking like this, he had nothing to lose.
He realised though, for the first time, how sure he felt, he’d been in intensive care for two weeks and could think of not one instant during that time that he would say he’d had a so called ‘Near Death Experience’. He’d heard so many stories in the past, and wondered if in the same situation he’d get his epiphany, but he didn’t. Kane wasn’t overly concerned, but had he some kind of paranormal near death experience during that time it would at least have been the ultimate detective work!.
Instead, Kane settled for quiet recuperation at the hands of the rain soaked window. It could have been so much worse after all.
Chapter Four
The Three boys wandered close to the edge of the train track, tentatively looking in each direction to see if there was anything coming. All of them were around twelve years of age, but that was where the similarity ended. The first boy was tall with dark hair, the second boy short with blonde hair and he third boy, between both in height, but chubby, with Ginger hair.
“Brian Mackeson told me his cousin was standing by a train track and he got sucked right under a train as it flew past, his body got sliced up into millions of pieces” said the ginger boy.
“You’re an idiot” said the dark haired boy “You’ll believe anything”
“I’m not an idiot” said the Ginger boy again, “I’m telling you, it happened, his cousin was all over the track. The buried him in a shoe box”.
The other two boys laughed and ran across the track to the other side, leaving the ginger boy still deciding whether to go or not.
“Are you coming or not, chicken” said the blonde boy.
“I’m not a chicken alright, I just don’t want to get bloody squished” The other two laughed again.
The track, lined with trees on either side, could easily be missed, but the sound of the approaching train could not. All three of the boys looked up the track to see a train there, waiting at the red light.
“OK, wait until this one has come past and then come over, we don’t have all day Harvey” said the dark haired boy.
“Alright, you two why don’t you just sit over there in the tree” said Harvey. “Terry and Christopher sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G” he continued.
“You’re such a card” said the blonde boy “Now stand back, you don’t want to get sucked under the train” the two boys laughed again.
“Piss off Chris” Harvey responded.
“Oooh he said a bad word” said Chris. The other kid, Terry, laughed. “Don’t worry Harvey” said Terry, “There’s no way a train will suck your fat arse under it”
“Better not do, he’d derail it” Chris said, leaving both Terry and he doubled over laughing. The train began to approach at speed.
Harvey stood back even further away and tried to make out the faces of the passengers as the train hurtled past. Everybody blurred past, amalgamating into one person. As quickly as that, the train was gone. Harvey looked ahead to where his friends had been standing.
“Guys, where are you?” he asked. There was no answer. “Seriously guys, where are you?” still he was met with stony silence. Harvey slowly made his way across the track, now no longer looking in either direction but focussing on the spot where his friends had been standing. Neither Terry or Chris were anywhere to be seen. “Guys” he said again. Starting to breathe heavily. Harvey was beginning to fear the worst. He went back to the track, to check for signs of bodies and could have sworn he saw blood on the tracks. “Oh God” he said under his breath, “Oh God, they’ve been run over, Oh God, Oh God, what am I going to do” All of a sudden Harvey started crying, and was then shaken out of it by the sound of “BOO” as the two boys jumped out from behind a tree, very nearly scaring the life out of Harvey.
“Screw you guys”, he said, “That’s not bloody funny, piss off”. Chris and Terry were doubled over again, laughing hysterically.
“I think you wet yourself” Chris said to Harvey.
“I think I’m gonna wet myself” Terry said, laughing uncontrollably.
After a few more seconds of the two boys composing themselves, they all got ready to venture on.
“How much further is it?” Harvey said after a short while, “My Mum wants me home by six”
Terry looked at his watch “Don’t worry, it’s only eleven thirty, and we’re about another half hour away, it’ll be good fun when we get there, and I have a little surprise as well”
The other two looked eager at this news, Terry was good at surprises. Neither of them pushed to know what it was though, they knew better than that, he’d never tell them anyway.
The sun beat down strongly on the tops of their heads as the boys began their journey across a large field and all three of them stopped to take a drink out of the small bags on their backs.
“It’s really hot out here” said Harvey, taking a swig from his flask.
“Sun don’t like the ginger’s does it?” said Chris, laughing.
“I’m not ginger, it’s strawberry blonde” said Harvey, much to the amusement of the other two.
“Yeah” said Terry, “Only strawberries aren’t orange coloured, otherwise they’d be called oranges”
After their short drink break, the three boys began to walk again. At the same time all of them noticed a man, halfway down the field, in the middle of it, and he seemed to be coming their way. He was walking with real purpose.
“Who’s that?” said Harvey. Neither Chris or Terry said a thing. All three turned to look at each other.
“What if it’s him?” said Chris.
“Who?” said Terry.
Harvey was as white as a sheet and shaking.
“Jesus, he means the guy who murdered Sally White, it could be as well couldn’t it?” Chris said, beginning to share Harvey’s appearance.
Terry laughed, nervously. “Sally White is missing, not dead, she might not be dead at all”
It was clear to all three the man walking towards them had increased his speed and was not very happy either. He appeared to be shaking his hand at them.
“Run” said Terry.
“Which way?” said Chris.
“Just follow me” Terry replied.
All of a sudden Terry took off in the direction they had been walking, but at pace and with Harvey and Chris closely followed. For a chubby little thing, Harvey sure could run when his adrenaline was pumping, and he thought he was about to become a murderers next victim.
The man who had been making his way towards them ran after them, shouting something that none of them recognised although Harvey was pretty sure it was “I’m going to kill you”.
Running so hard their chests burnt with pain, they eventually came to the edge of the field and road. Crossing it without taking any care at all, they found their way to the entrance of a dirt track, which looked as though it led up a path and into some woodland.
The man who had been chasing them stood on the edge of the field now, hands on hips and breathing heavily, looking across the road at them.
“Stay off my land” he shouted, before turning around and making his way back across the field.
“It was the bloody farmer” Harvey said and they all fell about laughing this time, Terry laying on the floor, through a mixture of laughter and exhaustion.
“Well guys” he said, when he finally caught his breath, “We’ve just shaved fifteen minutes off our journey time, we only need to make it up this track, and we’re there”
Once the boys had recovered their breath and the burning in their chests had eased up, they got started on their journey again, making their way up the lonely and dusty dirt track.
None of them said much on the way their, they all felt a mixture of excitement at the day ahead and terror at what had just happened. None of them were about to admit they thought they were about to be murdered, but all three of them had been thinking exactly the same thing.
“I didn’t think we would be able to outrun that guy” Harvey said, amazed at his own ability to pick up speed, when his life depended on it.
“I was just making sure I outran you” Chris replied.
Finally they reached the end of the dirt track. Sitting there at the end was a small wooden gate which all three of them easily climbed over.
“You sure this isn’t private land as well?” said Harvey. “No, my Dad used to bring me up here all the time” said Terry, “We used to come over and fly kite’s” Terry was gazing off into the distance, thinking of a time long ago.
“Kites” said Harvey “That’s a bit babyish” Chris punched him in the top of the arm.
“Ouch, why’d you do that?” he said.
“Because you’re an idiot” said Chris. Harvey looked at Terry realising what he had just said.
“You miss your Dad Terry?” Harvey said.
“Yeah Harv, every day” Looking down at the floor, Terry quickly changed the subject.
“Want to see what I brought with me?” he said. Neither Chris or Harvey needed asking twice.
“Look at this” said Terry, opening his bag. The three boys all carefully peered in together, as if a dangerous animal would jump out. “No way” Chris and Harvey said together.
Terry smiled “Oh yes”.
Chapter Six
Kane awoke with a start. Blearily looking around at his surroundings briefly forgetting where he was.
“Hi” said a deep voice next to him he didn’t recognise.
Kane looked to his left and there, in the bed to his left lay a man. The guy was in his fifties, greying hair, and a tired face.
“Hi there” said Kane “Where did you come from?” The guy smiled.
“They wheeled me in here earlier, you were dead to the world my man” He stopped for a second and then said “I’m Harry Leadbitter”
“Hi Harry, nice to meet you” Kane said, “I’m Terrance Kane”.
“I know” said Leadbitter, they told me your story.
“Really?” replied Kane “Who’s they?” Leadbitter laughed again.
“THEY are the reason you’re here. Sounds to me like you are a very lucky man” he continued. Kane couldn’t disagree with that. “Yes, yes I am, very, guess it wasn’t my time”. Leadbitter looked on.
“Maybe not, it seems your guardian angel was looking down on you Mr Kane”.
It was Kane’s turn to laugh. “Yes, if you believe in all that, I’m more inclined to believe the Doctors did a bloody good job and they saved my life”
“You don’t believe in Angels then Mr Kane?” asked Leadbitter.
“I believe in Newton and Hawking’s and because of that, I can’t really believe in Angels. Call me Terrence as well, I don’t like being called Mr Kane”
Leadbitter didn’t say anything for a short while and Kane wasn’t sure if he’d just finished speaking for now. Suddenly, Leadbitter spoke again. “I guess everybody is entitled to believe in what they wish eh?, I mean, the world would be a boring place if we all believed in the same thing wouldn’t it?” he said.
“Maybe so Mr Leadbitter, but it would probably be a safer place as well” Kane replied.
Leadbitter again went quiet, seeming to ponder Kane’s statement.
“How do you mean?” he finally said. Kane tried to take as long as Leadbitter to say anything but couldn’t wait to offer his opinion again.
“Well to be fair, if it wasn’t for religion we’d probably have next to no war at all. Most of the worlds conflicts are over religion and wouldn’t the world be a better place without it?” Kane said. He felt fairly pleased with himself. He was and always had been a completely devoted atheist and he enjoyed stamping all over people’s beliefs. Once again, Leadbitter was quietly thinking.
“You have a point Terrence, you have a point, I guess the only way we’ll ever really find out is when we die?” Leadbitter said.
Kane was getting bored of the conversation. Having been that close to death, he was pretty fed up with talking about it. He wondered what Leadbitter was doing in there and decided it was time to find out, after all, he seemed to have a head start on Kane before he’d even woken up.
“Why are you in here anyway?” Kane asked. Leadbitter looked puzzled.
“I said, they wheeled me in here while you were sleeping” he replied.
“I mean, why are you in here, what‘s wrong with you?” Kane said, widely gesturing with his hands to signify he meant ‘in the hospital’
“Cancer” Leadbitter said “Colon Cancer”. Kane looked at him. He looked remarkably well, considering, and Kane figured he wasn’t long into the illness.
“Early stage I take it?” Kane asked? Leadbitter shook his head, in a grave and final way.
“Far from it, when I first found out, that seems like another lifetime it was so long ago. I’m as near to the end as I’m going to be” Leadbitter said. Kane didn’t know how to respond to that, Leadbitter had been so calm and collected when he said that. Kane figured he was just resigned to the fact his days were numbered.
“I’m sorry” Kane said, “That’s pretty shitty and you look so well, I figured you had a fighting chance”
“Don’t apologise” Leadbitter said “I guess looks are deceiving” Kane nodded his head in understanding.
“I apologise for shitting all over religion and your beliefs as well, I wasn’t trying to do that. I guess right now, what you believe is important to you?” Kane said.
“Yes, it is of course, very, but then it always has been” Leadbitter replied. “I’m not using my death as an excuse to believe in God and the afterlife now, I always have done” Kane appreciated a man with the courage of his convictions and for the next few minutes, neither of them said anything, they both just looked at the ceiling. The silence was not at all uncomfortable. Eventually it was Kane who spoke again.
“Do you ever read much into your dreams?” Kane asked.
Leadbitter thought for a moment.
“Why, how do you mean, read much into them?” Leadbitter responded.
“Well I had this dream earlier” Kane said “And it was a mirror image of something that happened to me as a kid. It played out in my head exactly as it played out that day. I could feel and smell everything I felt on the day, what do you think about that?” He asked Leadbitter.
“What was the dream about?” Leadbitter asked.
Kane went on to tell him the whole story, from the train, to the joke on Harvey, the man in the field, the chase in the field right up to the point he’d woken up.
“That is strange” Leadbitter said. “Does it mean anything to you?” Kane wasn’t sure if it was meant to be significant or just an odd dream. Perhaps it meant nothing and had been purely that, just a dream, a re-run of something long ago, but the vividness of it had really hit him and he couldn’t explain why. Kane had heard of people having flash backs when they were close to death, but not after they’d survived, but that was exactly what it felt like, a flashback.
Later that evening, while both were sleeping, Kane was again awoken with a start, but this time, by something moving in the room. With all the lights off and natural light now replaced by total darkness, it was practically impossible to see anything at all. Again, he heard movement, a sound in the corner perhaps. “Leadbitter?” Kane asked. Questioning whether it was Leadbitter moving, his answer was in the form of a loud snore. Clearly it was not Leadbitter moving, not while sleeping that loudly!
Kane rolled on his side and again felt as though something was moving in the room. He decided to try and go back to sleep as it was more than likely his mind was just playing tricks on him. Kane closed his eyes and was just about to drift off again when, like the sound of a faint breeze he heard, a whisper.
“Paaaahhhhh” it seemed to say. Kane lay very still, hardly breathing at all, trying to listen intently to the sound. Again, it came, this time over to the right hand corner of the room “Faaaahhhh Paaaaaahhhhh” Kane’s blood felt as though it had turned to ice. He was shaking. Whatever it was, it was right there in the room. Suddenly, the sound came again, only this time, directly in his ear. He could feel breath, as cold as snow, and he could hear the same senseless words. “Jesus Christ” he screamed. Leadbitter shot out of bed and threw the light on. “ What’s the matter?” he said. Kane face was deathly white. “Did you hear that?” he asked Leadbitter.
“Hear what?” Leadbitter replied. “There was a noise, a whispering, it was bloody freezing in here, it whispered in my ear, right in my fucking ear” Kane said. Leadbitter started laughing.
“What whispered in your ear?” he said.
“Christ knows, something, something did” Leadbitter stopped laughing.
“OK, suppose something did whisper in your ear, what the hell did it say?”
Kane lay in bed looking drained and slightly confused. “It said ‘Fahh Paah’, what the bloody hell does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything you fool” said Leadbitter, “You were probably dreaming, go back to sleep” He turned the light off and got back into bed. Kane continued to lay still, listening, but the sound did not return.
Chapter Seven
The rain rolled again, in it’s endless downward spiral, just as it had seemed to ever since Kane had woken to find himself in the hospital. British weather was notoriously bad. Global Warming had brought to Britain exactly the opposite, but even so, the current levels of rain were unprecedented. Kane sat in an office, lined with book cases, filled with books, mostly about medicine and the medical profession but within them, he spied a few classics. Lord Of The Flies, Wuthering Heights and The Mayor Of Casterbridge stood out amongst the Medical Encyclopaedia and it’s related journals.
Dr Hedtolg walked into the room and sat down opposite Kane, smiling.
“How are you feeling today Terrence?” he enquired, raising his eyebrows slightly.
“I feel fine” said Kane, “Right as rain in fact. The pain has practically gone and the physio therapy has got 95% of my mobility back, I feel ready to go”.
“Hmm, I see” said Hedtolg, “And what about the voices?” he asked.
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