Almost Lost

This story involves, once more, police corruption.

I have lived through times of rampant police corruption, I have had contact with corrupt police at many levels and known corrupt officers. From my reading of events, I have reached the conclusion that you would be hard-pressed to find one police department, anywhere in the world, that does not have corruption in one form or another.

PERTH:

I awoke to strange noises. The most pronounced was an incessant beep, beep, not far from my head. There were confusing background noises, a low hum, some distant clattering, and a babble of soft voices.

I looked around me, a curtain surrounded me on three sides, and above my head beeping things and flashing things.

The curtain was pulled aside and a guy in a white coat came over to my bedside. "Awake at last. Can you tell me your name?"

I couldn't think of a name.

"Can you tell me where you live?"

Again I could not think of an answer.

"Do you know where you are?"

Again a blank stare.

"You are in hospital, in Perth."

A lack of comprehension. (I was getting good at this).

He wrote stuff on the thing, that I discovered later was a chart, at the end of the bed and left. Okay, so I'm in hospital, whatever that is, in Perth, but where's Perth?

I was still trying to get my head around this information when a woman came through the curtain. She wore a label that said something. "Hi, how are you feeling today?"

What was I supposed to tell her? I stared at her, searching for an answer, but nothing came.

"Can you tell me your name?" There it was again, and again I could not find an answer.

The guy in the white coat came back. "She's suffering from amnesia, probably caused by the drugs she took." He had a sheet of paper in his hand. "According to her tox screen she has a significant amount of GBH and cocaine in her system when she was brought in, there are still some residual amounts in her system. She's very lucky to be alive."

(GBH? Cocaine? What is he talking about?)

"Anything else we should be aware of?"

"She has had sexual intercourse, by the amount of semen in and around her vagina and on her clothing, it would suggest several times before she was brought in here. She was in a coma when you brought her in five days ago. This is the first sign of life that she has shown."

"That confirms what we found. It would appear that she either couldn't or couldn't be bothered to, get out of bed to go to the toilet. She and her bed were in a shocking state."

"I would suggest, with that amount of drugs in her system, she couldn't. In fact, she's very lucky to be alive, if what we have here is being alive. We have sent samples to your Forensics team in case it is determined that the sex that she has had was not consensual."

"We can check her DNA and that of the samples in the hope that it waves a flag for us. What are her chances of full recovery?"

"Fifty-fifty at best, we have run brain scans and, while there is some life there, at this timer I couldn't guarantee it is enough to provide any quality of life. We cannot be sure just how much brain damage there is and what parts of the brain have been damaged. We have scheduled an MRI scan to see if we can ascertain the degree of brain damage she has suffered. Whether she regains her memory is, at this point, less than that, who knows what psychological damage has been caused. Only time will tell."

"Okay, I'll leave her in your capable hands, we have a couple of leads to follow."

I don't know how long it was before I was able to stay awake for more than a couple of minutes, time had no meaning for me.

"You are making some progress." The guy in the white coat (TGIWC) said as he checked the chart at the end of my bed and scribbled some more notes.

I took in what was being said about me without comment. I had decided that, even though I now knew exactly where I was, and how I got there, it would serve me best not to let on.

"Do you remember how you happened to be on the Indian Pacific?" (The Indian Pacific is a train that crosses Australia between Sydney on the east coast and Perth on the west coast.) It was the next day, and the man in the white coat was back.

I focused my gaze at a spot on the ceiling, the practised distant look confirming to the man in the white coat that I wasn't in the same room.

Police Station:

"Do you want the good news or the bad?" Constable Dave Jennings had just entered the squad room.

"Give me both, but with the good news first." Sergeant Hilary Thornton replied. The Sergeant had been assigned to lead the 'Jane Doe' investigation.

"The good news is that we've had a hit on the DNA taken from her and the clothing. The bad news is that the owner of some of that DNA has been dead for five years."

"How is this possible? Okay, tell all, who is this mastermind who can leave the grave and shag someone?"

"He is, wait for it, James Francis Smith, the famous, or infamous, depending on your opinion of the man, now deceased Sydney crime boss, Jimmy S."

"I have to ask myself, what connection can this girl have with a dead guy?"

"I don't know, all I know is that DNA does not lie."

"Did Jimmy have any children?"

"Not that we know of, records have not found any, at least none that have him registered as the father."

"Dig around, find out if he had any girlfriends, failing that, was he gay? If we can't link him to this case then we need to explore and eliminate any possibilities, in something like this case we're looking for probabilities."

"I'll get on it."

"Before you do, could you rustle up a happy snap of Jimmy S?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, our Sydney mates should have one handy, I'll get them to upload it and send it over."

"Oh, and while you're talking to Sydney, can you get them to send any CCTV footage from the boarding of the Indian Pacific to see if she got on there, and if so, was she was with someone."

"Gotcha."

SYDNEY:

"We've just received a strange request from Perth." Constable Sweeting said as she handed some papers to Sergeant Thomas. "It seems that a young woman was taken from the Indian Pacific when it arrived about a week ago. She had no ID or money and was in a coma. The preliminary tox screen showed that she had been given a massive dose of both GBH and cocaine. At first, it was thought that she would not survive, but survive she has up to a point, she's suffering from amnesia. It also appears that she has had sexual intercourse but does not remember it, so it could have been rape. The DNA raised some interesting questions. It was identified as coming from an old friend of ours, Jimmy S, who, as you know has been dead for several years. They have asked us to investigate if he had any children, a son would explain the DNA result. They can't find any record of his being a father, but these are official records, and Jimmy S was not one for official records. They have also asked for CCTV footage of passengers boarding the Indian Pacific to see if she got on here, and if she was on her own."

"That part will be easy, but as far as I know Jimmy never had any kids, at least he has never owned up to any, but we will check." Sergeant Thomas had been around for years and was the go-to guy for information about villains from the past.

"They also sent us photos of the young lady. They have checked the DNA and fingerprint databases without luck, so it appears as if she's a cleanskin. I have had a look through the missing persons records. But no luck there either. It seems strange that she hasn't been missed."

"Have they checked to see if she's actually Australian?"

"That's a little difficult, she hasn't said anything yet. It seems as if, the fact that she is suffering from amnesia is preventing an answer."

"That makes it easy, (sarcasm) we have no place to start looking, at least not until she returns to the land of the living."

PERTH:

"You are something of an enigma young lady," TGIWC said to me as he looked at my charts. "We have sent signals to your brain and the responses were normal, even the pinprick in your big toe had the normal reaction. If I were to be asked, I would say that, for whatever reason, you want to maintain this charade of being an amnesiac to avoid answering questions. Now, I could tell the police that you are faking it, and throw you onto their tender mercies, or you can speak to me. Before you decide, let me tell you that under the doctor/patient provisions, I cannot be forced to let the police question you unless it is in your best interests and there is no other option. I can also choose not to tell the police what you say to me if you don't want me to. What is it to be?"

"It would seem that I have no choice." I looked at him instead of the spot on the ceiling that I'd been using to give me that far out there look. Could he be trusted? Under the circumstances, I had no option but to place my trust in him. "I have to warn you that, if you tell the police what I'm about to tell you, the rest of your life will not only be very painful but, even though it could only be days, it will seem like an eternity."

"I'll take that under advisement."

"I am a student, I am studying Criminology, and had been given an assignment to complete as part of my assessment. I was provided with sketchy details of a real crime, just a couple of names, but no dates, and told to put together enough evidence to support a case for prosecution. It didn't take long to establish the details about the who, what, how and why, but in the process, I must have triggered some alarm bells in certain quarters."

"How is it that you have not shown up as a missing person?"

"Part of the assignment was that my identity was not supposed to be found out. I guess that I've failed that part. I can understand why I was discovered because of the people involved. People, and this includes my lecturer, in high places would not have liked me rummaging around in their dirty laundry. They have too much to lose."

"Couldn't you report this to whoever is in charge?"

"Having kicked over the can there is no going back. The worms are running free. I got the distinct impression that, what my lecturer was looking for, was to establish how secure the measures he had taken to prevent detection were. Once I had discovered an access point into the crime gang, his only recourse was to eliminate me and the possibility of prosecution for himself and his confederates.'

"So, where do you go from here? You can't stay here forever."

"You mean where do we go from here. Having let you in on my secret, you are just as much in danger as I am."

"Remind me not to thank you. Okay, where do we go from here?"

"I need to get to some place where I am safe, relatively speaking, and where I can plan my next move."

"The place is easy. My family has a beach house down the coast that we use from time to time. There's no one there at present so I should be able to smuggle you down there as long as you promise not to upset the locals." I raised an eyebrow at that.

"A bit touchy are they?"

"No, just protective of their privacy."

"I don't suppose there's a surfboard laying around feeling unloved, is there?"

"One or several, you can use any one you like except the green one with three fins, that one's mine and nobody rides that but me."

"And just how am I supposed to get to this paradise?"

"I have three days off starting the day after tomorrow, I can drive you down."

"Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?"

He held up both hands. "There will be no touching." He looked at me. "Without an invitation that is." His smile was broad and friendly.

"And that includes any brothers or mates that you might have."

"Don't worry about the brothers, their wives would never allow that, you might have to watch my sister though, I've been wondering which side of the fence she's on." My glance caused him to revise that suggestion. "Don't worry about her, I know for a fact that she doesn't harbour any same-sex tendencies."

"Why would you do this for me? You know nothing about me."

"It's the 'damsel in distress syndrome' and my chivalrous nature. I see a beautiful young lady in trouble and I just have to help her, even if I put my own life at risk in the process."

"Yeah well, I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean it to happen this way. Having said that, you have helped me a lot already."

"How so?"

"By being you. You could have left me here on my own and at the tender mercies of those cops, but no, you have cheered me up no end, and I will be forever grateful."

"Does that . . .?"

"No."

"Oh."

"That's not a never 'no', who knows I might just get desperate enough to give in to your constant begging for me to make love to you."

"You can forget about constant begging, I can take no for an answer, after all, I have had plenty of experience at that."

"Bullshit! I bet the nurses are fighting over who gets you."

He ignored me. "See ya." He scribbled something on my chart and left, not giving me a chance to say goodbye to him, so I said it to his receding back.

Back to boredom for a while until the police can point me to where the bastard is. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill him, just make life miserable for the little shit while I get the evidence I need to crucify him.

A visitor. I remembered her as one of the police that I had ignored. Would I continue to ignore her? It depends on what she has to say.

"Hi, you don't know me, I was here yesterday, but you weren't. Physically you were but your mind was elsewhere."

"Oh." Non-committal.

"I have some interesting news. You are a very lucky young woman to be still alive. (You think so? It sure as hell doesn't feel like it) You have been drugged, and while you were drugged you were raped. (Do you call that lucky?) Now for the interesting part, our tests indicate that you have been raped by, among others, a man who has been dead for some time. (Rigor mortis set in had it?)

"How can that be?"

"We are thinking along the lines that it is a direct descendant of the dead guy but our records show that he didn't have any sons."

I can't think of anything to say.

"Can you remember who you are and how you got to be on the Indian Pacific, where you got on and with whom?"

"I have no ID then?"

"We have not found any."

"I vaguely remember being with some guy that I met in a pub. I was working on something and was in the pub getting some background to my project when this guy hit on me. He bought me a couple of drinks but I can't remember anything after the second."

"Can you remember which pub?"

"It was up at the Cross (Kings Cross) and I was giving the lemon squash a caning while I watched the other customers. That's all I can remember."

"Was this guy with anyone or on his own?"

"I don't know, I don't even know where he came from, he didn't come through the front door, this much I do know. There I was, minding my own business and there he was, offering to buy me a drink. I told him I wasn't drinking but a glass of white wine was put on the bar in front of me."

"Did he ask you what you were drinking?"

"No, but it was obvious that it wasn't alcohol."

"Did he order the wine, or did it just arrive?"

"I don't know, what difference does that make?"

"If he was a regular, or someone well known to the barman, he may have a standing system for when he hits on a woman."

"Where to from here?" I already knew the answer to that one.

"We are going to arrange for you to be flown back to Sydney, the police there will take over the investigation."

"What if it's not safe for me to go back?"

"Why do you think that?"

"If, as it appears to me, I was singled out, and that I wasn't meant to survive the trip, I might be putting myself in danger by going back."

"Again, why would you think that? Is it something that you remember?"

"Yes, I could be wrong, I'm not a hundred percent certain, but I think that I'm a student and that is why I was in that pub, I was researching a project as part of my studies. I think that I am studying Criminology."

"I'll have to have a chat with Sydney and decide what we do next. If you have had contact with the criminal element then you may well be in danger still, especially if they find out that you're still alive. I'll be back as soon as I know something. It'll most likely be in the morning."

"There's no way I'm going back to Sydney." I told her.

Police Station.

"We have found something interesting in the CCTV from Central Station, she wasn't alone when she got onto the train. The Sydney police have spoken to the attendant on that carriage and he said that they were a honeymooning couple and said that they weren't to be disturbed until the train reached Perth. When neither of them got off in Perth, they checked the compartment and found her. He must have got off somewhere along the way."

"Do we know who made the booking and when?"

"No."

"Then find out."

"I'll ring Sydney and they can follow up on that. What then?"

"Get the timetable and check to see which would be the most convenient place for him to leave the train. Probably Adelaide, and check CCTV for that station."

SOMEWHERE IN SYDNEY

"I thought that you said she was dead."

"She had enough GBH to kill a horse. She was barely alive when I left her in

Adelaide."

"Well, it appears that she not only survived but her memory has as well."

"How do you know this?"

"Because the police were just here asking about my relationship with your biological father, whether it produced a child, specifically a son."

"I thought you said that plan was foolproof?"

"It was," His father said. "But that presupposes that there wasn't a fool involved."

"So, where do we go from here?"

"We're pretty sure that she's in Royal Perth Hospital, you are to ring the hospital to confirm that, and then you are to get on a plane and go to Perth to finish the job."

"How am I going to do that?"

"I'd be wasting my time giving you a plan, you've proven that you can't be relied upon to follow it. You work it out."

PERTH

Hospital life drifted on throughout the day and I was actually looking forward to spending time with my doctor, surfing and generally relaxing away from doctors, with one exception, and away from police.

Late in the afternoon that all changed. He was just down at the Nurses station when he heard one of them take a call. "We don't have anyone by that name here as a patient." She put her hand over the phone. "Some guy is calling from Sydney, he won't give his name, but he's asking if we have a patient by the name of Chelsea Darling, what do I tell him?"

"Give it to me." He took the phone, " You are inquiring about someone who you think is a patient in this hospital. What did you say her name was? Chelsea Darling, no we do not have anyone by that name. Sir, I would remember someone with that name if she was here."

He paused while he received information from the other end. "She was taken from the Indian Pacific six days ago you say, she was in a coma. Maybe she is deceased, have you thought of that? You have been informed that she is still alive, is that it? Who told you that? You say that the police told you that. I take it that you are not the police. What connection do you have to this mystery woman? She is a friend, not related in any way? You were about to propose and she just disappeared. I would suggest that she did not want to marry you. Now, Sir, I do not like the tone of your voice. I have to inform you that even if we had a patient of that name, we would not give out information on her condition unless you're were a close relative, a parent perhaps."

More heated conversation from the other end of the line. "Suit yourself, but you're wasting a trip."