Unhappily Ever After Bk. 01 Ch. 09-10

The trouble was that I didn't have a phone to call anyone. The police probably confiscated it when they took my clothing and everything else I had on me at the time of my admission into the hospital. It would be sitting in an evidence locker somewhere. They'd more than likely also have impounded my car.

I wondered if the voice recording of Manyweather's last few moments would ever make it into evidence or whether it was wiped from my phone before it made it that far.

The really odd thing about this whole situation was that despite my having been arrested - twice, going by the on-again, off-again handcuffing - no one had come by to formalise those arrests or interview me about either of the crimes I was supposed to have committed.

"Did I do him any serious damage?" I asked the senior constable before he left.

"Serious enough that he would probably have died from his injuries had it happened anywhere other than in a hospital," he answered. "You crushed his windpipe and damaged his larynx. They managed to get a tube into him so he could breathe, and he'll have trouble speaking for a while. But nothing permanent. He's still down in ER if you'd like to visit him."

"I'd love nothing more than to go down to pay him a visit," I croaked. "But I think I've had enough exercise for one day.

"I just wish I'd had the luxury of allowing him to get a little closer. The bastard was right at the end of my reach."

---oooBJSooo---

My first visitor the following day was Tony Marino. He told me that Madeline had called him after the excitement had died down the previous evening to let him know about Kingston's attack. He said he had called around last night to see if his help was needed but found that I had been sedated.

"The officer on duty outside your room filled me in on the events that had taken place and told me that he was there to protect you rather than guard you," Tony said. "He also assured me that you were not under arrest but that your attackers were."

While we were talking, I received another couple of visitors: a man who introduced himself as a Detective Chief Inspector and a woman who was introduced as a Detective Sergeant. Both, they explained, were from CIB. They were here to interview me concerning the events of the previous day and those relating to the deaths of Charlotte Brown and Todd Manyweather.

I looked over at Tony. He gave me a nod.

"After all the bullshit I've been through with you people already," I croaked, "I would normally tell you to take a hike. But seeing that my lawyer just happened to have called in to see if I hadn't been arrested and chained to my bed for a third time after yesterday's 'incident', I'll answer any questions I can.

"Before you start your questioning, though, you should be aware that I don't seem to be able to remember anything from the time I was released from the watch house until I woke up in here. The doctors are hopeful that those memories will return, but they tell me there are no guarantees.

"I'll know more after I've been examined by the hospital's brain specialist and psychiatrist. But I don't know when that is scheduled to happen. For all I know, they may have already been and gone, and Kingston's attack knocked my memory of it into next week.

"I do remember the attack, however; just as if it was yesterday."

My attempt at lightening the mood flew like a lead balloon. I saw Tony shaking his head from the corner of my eye. He later explained to me that police and bank managers are sent to a special clinic while undergoing their training. While there, they have their sense of humour surgically removed. Only rarely does it ever grow back.

"Thank you, Mr Bourke," the senior officer said, ignoring my pun. "I should tell you before we start that, as this is a preliminary interview for information-gathering purposes, you are not under caution. Do you understand that point, Mr Bourke?"

I looked over at Tony, who once again gave me a nod. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he nodded a second time. I hoped he understood what I was asking him.

"Why would you want to break with tradition by cautioning me," I asked. With all the information contained in the recorded conversations that were on my phone when I was bundled into the ambulance - both of the assassination attempt and my previous arrest - there was no longer any need to keep my hole card hidden.

I glanced over at Tony to confirm that he was comfortable with what I was doing. He nodded.

"Why do you say that, Mr Bourke?" the DCI asked.

"Because if you did caution me, it would be a first," I answered. "Apart from the time I was arrested while enjoying a beer with my friends at my local watering hole, back when this whole fiasco started, I have never been cautioned before being arrested and handcuffed.

"Since that first arrest, I have been shackled at least three times. On none of those occasions have I been read my rights, as they say in the movies. In fact, on the last two occasions, I was unconscious and wouldn't have been able to acknowledge having understood a word of the caution."

I watched as the chief inspector and his sergeant looked at each other. Everything suddenly fell into place. These weren't CIB detectives. They were investigators from the Ethical Standards Command; either that or Special Branch.

"May I see your identification, please?" I asked the DCI and the DS. Once I opened them, I confirmed that my first guess had been correct. I passed them to Tony so he could cast an eye over them. He pulled a notepad from his briefcase and noted down the details.

"So now, Detective Chief Inspector Banks and Detective Sergeant Blankenship," I said, "let's stop the bullshit and start talking about why you are really here. We all know that Ethical Standards doesn't investigate breaches of bail conditions or alleged murders or, for that matter, assaults. What is it you want from me?"

"I apologise for the deception," the DCI said. "We would have preferred to keep you in the dark. But it appears we have misjudged your intelligence. We hope that means you can be of more help to us than we had first thought."

Tony asked that the two detectives go down to the hospital's cafeteria to get us each a cup of coffee while he conferred with his client. He left the room shortly after them, returning a few minutes later.

Upon his return, he bent down and whispered in my ear.

"I've just confirmed that these two are kosher and that they're straight shooters. They're working on running a net around a group of corrupt police officers who have been able to evade detection for some years. Your case has brought these corrupt officers together into a single operation: the 'Get Aaron Bourke' project.

"It appears that your refusal of Kingston's offer to fit you with the horns of a subservient husband to your adulterous wife wasn't to his liking. He thought you might kick against the traces on the night of your public humiliation, which is why he arranged to provide you with a bit of physical guidance when you left the function that night; apparently, he'd had to do the same thing with a couple of other husbands.

"When you not only avoided his trap but somehow managed to turn the tables on your attackers, he became incensed. That display of disrespect was compounded when the person he had contracted to carry out that ambush pulled out of the deal, warning Kingston that he should think twice before taking you on.

"Ignoring the warning, he set out to not only destroy you but also have you permanently taken out of play. I don't know how you managed it, but you were able to keep one step ahead of him. Not only that, but whether by accident or design, you turned every boomerang he threw at you back to strike him.

"His attempt to attack you yesterday was the result of his frustration.

"While his first mistake was ignoring the advice given to him by his first contractor, he compounded that mistake by pulling in a few favours in his attempts to destroy you. The trouble was that each time he called in another favour, he drew another corrupt player into the web.

"I've seen you in action, so I'll let you have your head with these ES detectives. But when I tell you to shut your mouth, please do as I say. Whatever you do, don't mention names and don't go into the 'hows' behind any of your actions. I don't want you incriminating either yourself or anyone else."

When the police officers returned with our coffee, Tony asked them to arrange with the head nurse - who just happened to be Madeline Baker - to have the video link to my room turned off.

"Tell them they can keep the medical equipment turned on but that there should be no video or audio record of the interview on the hospital's network."

Before the door was closed, Tony brought another chair into the room. It was less comfortable than the other two chairs, but he said it suited him. "I don't want to become too comfortable," he explained to the detectives.

After asking me if I had any objection to our interview being recorded and receiving my approval, both the detective chief inspector and Tony placed recording devices on the table that straddled my bed.

"First, let me tell you," the DCI said, "that we no longer suspect you of any involvement in any of the drug offences with which you have been charged or with the intentional death of either one or both of the people found at the entrance to your property. All charges relating to those cases have been dropped, and the police prosecutor has been instructed to inform Magistrate Johnston of that fact."

He then explained that, during the examination of my car after the shootout at my property gate, no evidence was found to indicate I had ever carried drugs of any description in it.

"However, during our investigation, evidence came to light that indicated the drugs found at your home had been planted by one of the officers who searched the house. A confession has since been obtained from that person. He also confessed to planting the drugs found in your garage.

"That same officer also confessed to alerting the television stations before the raids on both your business premises and your home. This was done to cause as much damage as possible to your own reputation and that of your business. In other words, the aim of both raids was to destroy you.

"Tests subsequently carried out on those drugs show that they originated from the police evidence locker. Drugs from that same batch were found on the partners from Moreton City Law and their family members. Our thinking is that Kingston managed to get his hands on the drugs through his contacts in the drug squad and had distributed them among his acolytes; along with the other illegal substances they used during their 'conferences'.

"I must commend you on the way you handled the methhead one of the watch house officers put into your cell while you were attending court. It probably saved your life. They had someone lined up to kill you once you'd been transferred to the remand centre after beating their sacrificial peon half to death.

"The problem for you was that every time you thwarted one of their attacks, it made those who had become your sworn enemies more determined to have you killed. From audio and video evidence we have received, those enemies have been identified as Mr Nathan Kingston, Mrs Samantha Bourke, Mr Todd Manyweather and, to a lesser extent, Ms Charlotte Brown. From what our forensic people have told us, it looks like she aimed to miss you when she fired her gun. That may have been what got her killed.

"We have also managed to identify some people who were contracted to kill you, but they seem to have disappeared off the face of the planet. None of their soldiers is saying anything about where they might be; except to suggest that they may have taken off on a cruise or they might be visiting Argentina or Ecuador. Lebanon, Greece and Malta have also been mentioned as places we might like to look for them.

"While others were involved in the attempts on your life, none of them appear to have the same degree of personal animosity towards you as the four people already named."

"Your doctors have warned us about planting images in your head about the events that took place after you left the watchhouse. Suffice it to say, however, that the forensic evidence indicates that you were the intended target and that any involvement you might have had in the deaths of Ms Brown and Mr Manyweather resulted from their actions. Please keep that in mind when - and if - you regain your memory of that period."

"Thank you," I said. I'll try to do that." I was beginning to like this man. But I wasn't forgetting that the two officers were an experienced interrogation team. He had done the explaining and had me relaxed. Now it was DS Blankenship's turn.

"Which brings us to the vest you were wearing when you were brought to the hospital," she said. "We've had our experts look at it, and they tell us they have never seen anything like it. It's not much thicker than a sweatshirt, but it absorbed a nine-millimetre round that had travelled a relatively short distance.

"It has been confirmed that that bullet was fired from Manyweather's Glock, in case you're interested."

So much for not planting images in my head. I realised that she - probably neither of them, for that matter - believed a single word about my amnesia.

"I say Mayweather's Glock, but it is actually one of the weapons you reported stolen from your company's armoury on the day he left your employ. So was the one Ms Brown used to fire in your general direction.

"But, back to the vest. Can you tell us how you acquired that vest and how you came to be wearing it on that particular day, Mr Bourke?"

"As to the 'how I acquired the vest' question," I answered, "as a former soldier, I am often sent items of equipment to evaluate. I never know where they come from. They simply turn up out of the blue with a card asking me to test the item to destruction.

"I am provided with a phone number to use to submit my evaluation, and I'm instructed to destroy the packaging as soon as I have removed whatever it contains. The phone number I am given is different for each item, and I'm required to delete it from my phone as soon as I've finished dictating my report. I'm also required to destroy whatever I've tested as soon as possible after my evaluation.

"When that vest arrived, I was asked to assess its wearability. I did that and sent off my assessment report but hadn't gotten around to destroying it. Truth be told, I hung onto it longer than I should have because I wanted to put a couple of rounds into it before I took it to a high-temperature furnace for destruction; as your people will have discovered, you can't simply cut it up into small pieces. It was sitting bundled up in my office, waiting for me to do that, when all this started.

"Why I was wearing it that day is only conjecture. As I have said, I don't remember anything after being released from the watchhouse. I can only assume that knowing I had become a target, I decided to wear it for added protection. It seems to have lived up to its specifications.

"I don't suppose I'll be receiving any more toys to play with after this, though. Whoever it is that's been sending me this stuff will be pissed that I have let their vest fall into the hands of civilians.

"Maybe they'll be coming after me next," I said. Nobody laughed.

The detective sergeant invisibly tagged her superior, who asked me to tell them the story from the beginning.

I gave them the condensed version of events, starting when I first suspected Sam's infidelity and ending with my release from the watch house. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to tell them everything.

"My intention at that time was to go to my office to pick up my car and drive out to retrieve my passport. I don't know what happened between then and when I ended up in here. I do know, however, that I wasn't particularly looking forward to spending Christmas alone."

After passing a glance between themselves, the DS spoke.

"After leaving the watch house on the afternoon of December 24," she said. "you were seen entering your lawyer's car. That's the last anyone saw of you until you called the emergency services number at about nine o'clock on the night of December 26.

"Are you sure you don't remember what you were doing during the period covered by your disappearance?"

"Do you think I would bullshit you about something like that!" I exploded. "Do you think I don't want to remember my involvement in the deaths of two people? Because I remember every one of those I killed while serving my country. They're the ones I want to forget. But I can't. Now I want to remember what happened, and I can't do that either."

Just then, the door burst open, and Nurse Baker charged into the room.

"What the hell is going on in here?" she demanded as she went around to the left-hand side of the bed and reset the monitors.

"This patient has suffered severe head trauma, which was aggravated when your idiot guard let a man in here who tried to beat Mr Bourke to death. Now you're attempting to achieve the same result by driving his blood pressure through the roof. If a stroke doesn't kill him, his increased blood pressure could force a blood clot to travel to his brain. That would kill him instantly. What sort of people are you that you would hound a man to death?

"And you, Mr Marino. Aren't you his lawyer? Why are you allowing them to browbeat your client so much that it puts his life in danger?

"This interview is over. Pack your things and leave. ...all of you." She spoke the last part of her tirade while looking directly at Tony.

The two police officers packed their notepads and voice recorder and left hurriedly. Tony dawdled a bit. After packing his notepad into his briefcase, he reached over to retrieve his own voice recorder.

"Well done," he said quietly before placing the recorder in his case and heading for the door.

Madeline shot daggers at him as he passed her. I hoped I hadn't done any irreparable damage to their relationship.

After making sure the three visitors were standing waiting for the elevator, she returned to the room to tidy my bed.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's all good. Tony warned me what might happen before the interview started. He told me that as soon as I saw your blood pressure start to rise, I was to come charging in here like an old-school Hospital Matron and raise the roof.

"The trouble was that I wasn't expecting your vitals to change so rapidly. By the time I got to the door, I had become really concerned. I wasn't kidding about the danger of strokes or clots. Both are real possibilities when a patient's blood pressure gets as high as yours did.

"It's settled back down now, but I'm going to have to keep an eye on you for the next day or so. It's a good thing I had already cancelled your occupational therapy session for today. I don't want you moving about any more than is necessary."

I was happy to comply with her instructions and spent the afternoon getting into one of the novels Tony had left for me during one of his earlier visits. Having already read the Tom Clancy one, I decided to start on the police murder mystery, The Dry, written by a new Australian author, Jane Harper. It drew me in as very few local writers had been able to do for some time.

---oooBJSooo---

The following day turned out to be a reasonably pleasurable one. I was once again allowed to have visitors.

The first to drop in was my mother and brother. They had apparently tried to see me a few times while I had been in the induced coma but had been turned back before they could get to my room. It was explained to them that, as I was in police custody, they would have to make a formal request for visitation through the proper channels.