Cut Down To Size: A Sebastian Cork Novel Read online

  Cut down to size

  A Sebastian Cork Novel

  By Neal Davies

  Sebastian Cork

  Copyright (c) 2016 Neal Samuel Davies.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  A copy of this publication can be found in the National Library of Australia

  ISBN 9780980874877 (paperback)

  ISBN 9780994570505 (ebook)

  Publisher Cathie (Catherine) Anne Davies

  Table of Contents

  1. INTRODUCTION

  2. TRUSCAN PARK

  3. NEW BEGINNINGS

  4. MICHAEL COHEN’S PARENTS

  5. THE FARM HOUSE

  6. AN URGENT REQUEST FROM THE CORONER

  7. VISIT TO THE GYM – FRIDAY

  8. PAUL’S FIRST MEETING WITH KATE – SATURDAY

  9. THE CAFÉ – SUNDAY

  10. NEXT DAY – MONDAY

  11. TUESDAY

  12. JOE DEVENPORT’S OLD NEIGHBORHOOD – WEDNESDAY

  13. CUTTING IT FINE – THURSDAY

  14. THE HOSPITAL – FRIDAY

  15. SATURDAY

  16. AN UNFORESEEN LEGACY – SUNDAY?

  17. A DAY TO REMEMBER – WEDNESDAY

  18. FRIDAY ARRIVES

  19. FOOD FOR THOUGHT – SATURDAY

  1. INTRODUCTION

  Six forty-five in the morning, the third Sunday of Spring and the powder blue sky is chilly but crystal clear. Sebastian wakes with baggy eyes, muffles a yawn then quietly dons his casual clothes. He would normally enjoy a sleep in but today is different. Since walking away from his practice as a noted psychologist and lecturer, he has been hired as a consultant for the police and has come to realise how unfit he is; so he is resolved to take as many long strolls as he possibly can, whenever he can.

  After Sebastian brushes his thick salt and pepper hair, he goes back into the bedroom to take a lengthy admiring look at his wife Cynthia’s delicate face and as she remains fast asleep between their silk sheets, he kisses her on the forehead. Then he paces downstairs dressed in navy cargo pants, polo shirt and sneakers.

  On the landing, he pauses for a moment to scan his reflection in the hallstand mirror. It draws furrows on his brow and he scowls at his slightly overweight physique. “It’s about time you got off your fat end and did something, old man!”

  His disappointed mood soon dissipates as Sebastian takes his first step outside. The early morning air is crisp and has a bite to it. Sebastian’s eyes light up and a childlike smile veils his face. The cold freshness smells of lavender and jasmine and the night’s dew shines its silver specks across the vivid green carpet of lawn. Happy memories of Sebastian’s childhood overwhelm his senses within a moment, as he takes a deep breath and exhales forcefully; producing a misty haze just like it did in the days when innocence ruled his world.

  He gazes reflectively, wondering why it has taken him so long to get motivated to lose the weight he has been carrying for a few years and can’t believe how good he feels as he scans the surrounding gardens, enchanted by the beauty of the frost on the shrubs and the opalescent spider webs that adorn them like Christmas decorations.

  Sebastian sets off at a good pace through the black wrought iron gates that swing sturdily off the creeper-covered, white concrete walls. They are rarely closed and so there is no break in his gait as he pushes up the road toward the lake, like a man possessed.

  He is overtaken by the odd jogger along the way and he finds himself stepping up his pace each time only to ease off when he feels his legs burn and quiver. A quarter of the way through his walk his mobile phone begins to vibrate and, in the cold, his fingers fumble to retrieve it from his pocket. It’s Paul Lyon, the young detective who’s been assigned by Chief of Police Jim Johnson to partner Sebastian during investigations.

  “Hi, Seb. It’s Paul. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday but Jim called and wants us to attend a murder scene ASAP. He said this one looks like it might be something you’d be interested in. Apparently a jogger discovered a body in Truscan Park at six o’clock this morning.”

  Sebastian’s a little disconcerted as he was thoroughly enjoying his first real attempt at exercise. “What makes him think this particular case will interest me?” he replies with concealed enthusiasm.

  “I’m not sure, Seb. I haven’t been to the park myself. That’s why I rang; I thought you might want a lift.” Despite the interruption to his morning stroll, there is nothing in Sebastian’s world that can override his enthusiasm for a new case, so he turns and heads toward home. “Thanks, Paul, I appreciate that. It will take me about thirty minutes to get back and another fifteen to have a shower, so if you can pick me up in about an hour that will give me time to have some breakfast as well.”

  “No problems, Seb. I’ll see you then.”

  By the time he gets back, Cynthia is up and about and looks at him curiously as he walks through the door. “I thought you’d be gone longer, otherwise, I would have had breakfast waiting for you.”

  Sebastian is still a little out of breath after stepping up his pace on the trip home in order to salvage something from his morning exercise; so he takes a short moment to compose himself. “Yes, I thought I would be too but it seems that murderers enjoy inconveniencing people at inappropriate moments. I’m going to take a quick shower, my love, but if you’re still interested in making me the breakfast you just spoke of, I’ll be back down in approximately fifteen minutes.”

  Before Cynthia has a chance to reply, Sebastian is halfway up the stairs, leaving her in reflective silence, wondering what murderer he’s talking about and whether he will be leaving sooner or later. Hands on her hips, she sighs heavily as her eyes follow him upwards. She can’t help herself from exaggerating her true inner feelings and it doesn’t take long for her deepest thoughts to work their way to the surface. “All these years and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why he does what he does!”

  She smiles with an abstract contentment, turns elegantly on her heels and glides toward the kitchen. Sebastian spends a bit longer upstairs than his self-allocated fifteen minutes and Paul arrives earlier than expected. Dressed and famished after his morning stroll, Sebastian rapidly flows down the stairs and once in the foyer, he inhales the sweet aroma of coffee and freshly cooked pancakes topped with maple syrup that float alluringly through the air, adding to his craving. His mind races with joy when thinking about the hardy breakfast awaiting him in the next room but as he enters the kitchen he finds Paul nestling back in his chair eating his pancakes and drinking his coffee.

  Paul his mouth half full smiles up at him. “Wow, Seb! You never told me how beautiful your wife is and not only that, she’s a great cook as well!”

  Cynthia standing by the stove watching Paul devour his meal is flattered by his comment. She tilts her head slightly to one side and smiles affectionately at him and then rapidly swings her attention toward her husband with a piercing glare. “Sebastian Cork! Paul’s nothing like you described him. He’s a lovely young man.”

  The smile magically reappears on her face as she looks back toward their guest. “Would you like some more, Paul? I have to put some on for Sebastian anyway.”

  A wad of pancake pushes out his right cheek. “That would be lovely, Mrs Cork.”

  Sebastian sulkily glares at Paul then at Cynthia who has already started cooking the next batch. “I thought you would have had mine ready by now!” he says with childlike frustration.

  Cynthia, nonchalant, looks over her shoul
der. “Your breakfast was ready ages ago but, because you took so long in the shower, I could see it going cold and then Paul arrived, so I gave it to him. Paul filled me in about the murder. It’s nice when someone presents you with all the details of what’s going on!”

  Sebastian glares at Paul again and then back at Cynthia like a little boy who’s been naughty. “I was going to fill you in over breakfast,” he grumbles.

  “Oh well, you don’t have to bother now,” she replies in a disinterested manner.

  Sebastian feeling uncomfortable and slightly outcast tries to regain some ground. “You’re in my seat, Paul!” he mutters irritably and Cynthia swings her head around angrily as Paul begins to rise.

  “Don’t you dare move, Paul! Sebastian Cork! Where are your manners? Paul’s a guest here and you can use the other chair. They all match, you know!”

  Paul looks at Cynthia as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “It’s okay, Mrs Cork. As you said, they’re all the same, so I’m happy to move.”

  Paul picks up his plate and coffee and shifts to another chair and there’s no doubting the message in Cynthia’s eyes. “My goodness, Sebastian Cork! If only you had half the manners this young man’s got, I’d be grateful.”

  Sebastian’s lips tighten and there is an awkward silence as he plonks himself down in his favourite chair and sits stiffly. Throughout breakfast, he barely utters a word but his eyes take everything in. His wife, on the other, hand is extremely chatty and dotes over Paul like a long lost son. When the two men are ready to leave, she hands Paul a brown paper bag with some pancakes in it. “This should tide you over until lunch,” she says sweetly.

  “Thanks, Mrs Cork. I appreciate that.”

  Her grin turns to a beaming smile. “You’re welcome and please call me Cynthia.” For the first time since breakfast, Sebastian manages a smile as he gazes at his wife in anticipation. “Did you pack me some too?” he says hopefully.

  Instantly her smile turns to a frown. “Of course not Sebastian. If you’re serious about losing weight, you should know better than to ask for more!” She leans forward to kiss him goodbye. “Ow!” she says out loud as she grabs her chest.

  “Are you alright, my love?” Sebastian says with concern.

  “Stop fussing, Sebastian, I’m fine. We did a lot of heavy lifting yesterday for the charity ball and I think I may have strained myself,” she scowls.

  Paul steps out from behind Sebastian. “Are you sure you’re alright, Cynthia?”

  “Of course, Paul, and aren’t you a gentleman for caring! Thank you.”

  Sebastian turns up the corner of his mouth, “Great! He’s a gentleman for asking and I am some sort of over-fussing fool!” Sebastian sways his head from side to side like a wounded bear, grabs his jacket and cane from the hallstand and heads out the door toward the car without a word and Paul in his wake.

  Sebastian buckles himself in and casually sits back as he would at home alone in his lounge chair.

  The morning air is now dense with exhaust fumes and mist as they scud along toward the city. Paul threads his way through the never ending stream of traffic and wonders why Sebastian hasn’t spoken to him since leaving. “Penny for your thoughts, Seb,” he says as he gives him a quick glance with concerned eyes.

  Sebastian rapidly rotates his head, gives Paul a daggered glare, then abruptly turns his frustrated attention away and steadfastly watches the quick succession of cars and buildings hurtling past his side window. He wants to say what he is really thinking but overcomes his impulse to do so. He realises this isn’t the time or the place to air his feelings and yet his reply comes in a hard, calculating manner:

  “Just enjoying the scenery and you’d do well to keep your eyes and thoughts on the road ahead.”

  Paul gives an uncomfortable rapid glance toward Sebastian without finding its mark and naively replies “Oh. Okay.”

  Sebastian is content to see all the tall grey terrace houses fly past as he knows they will soon arrive at the park and he can concentrate on the job at hand, rather than be caught up in the uncomfortable small talk. But as Paul negotiates a sharp turn to his right the unthinkable happens: two red taillights in front of them close rapidly like a well-oiled vice. Paul’s lightning reflexes are up to the challenge and he hits the brakes hard and fast, bringing their car to a screeching halt, a feather’s kiss from the red Mustang in front of them.

  “Shit! That’s all we need, a bloody traffic jam!” he exclaims as the adrenalin continues pumping through his body like an express train. Sebastian has been flung forward which brought a sudden jolt from his seatbelt. With both hands on the passenger dash, he rips his body sideways with eyes that resemble an agitated bull. “Where the hell’s your head, man?” he snaps shocked and angry. “You could have killed us both!”

  Paul still staring forward throws himself back into his seat and slams his hands on the steering wheel. “How the hell was I supposed to know the jackass in front of me was going to slam his brakes on?”

  Sebastian, still hunched forward, takes a deep breath and forcibly exhales through his nose as he glares at Paul from the corner of his eye. “It seems to me you may have been a little close to the car in front or you wouldn’t have had to hit the bloody brakes so bloody violently!”

  Paul swings his shoulders around and cocks his head back like a gun about to fire an angry bullet. “Look Seb, if I hadn’t been far enough back you’d be sitting in the front seat of that Mustang ahead of us and unable to complain due to swallowing your own airbag. Now, that may not have been good for you but it would be a bloody godsend for me! What the hell is eating you anyway? You’ve been offish all morning.”

  Sebastian rigidly pushes back into his seat, turns away rapidly and glares out the side window for an uncomfortable moment and then abruptly swings his shoulders back toward Paul and stares through him as if there is something more interesting taking place outside the driver’s window. He’s determined not to let Paul know how he feels but something inside keeps pushing his attitude to the surface until he can’t hold it in any longer.

  “You! That’s what’s bloody wrong, you! You come into my house, sit in my chair, eat my pancakes and engage my wife in conversation to a point where she’s disinterested in anything I have to say!”

  Feeling exceptionally foolish after his outburst, Sebastian’s cheeks become heated, so he returns to gazing intently out of the passenger side window but finds himself shifting uneasily in his seat. Sebastian’s mind now racing, agonises over allowing his emotions to override his logical thought and doesn’t know how he will conceal an ever-growing sense of guilt.

  Paul has shown a degree of poise to this point but enough is enough and with taut lips he sarcastically retorts “Imagine that! The great Sebastian Cork unable to contain his emotions… unheard of! So there really is a human under the guise of Mister-I-Never-Lose-Self-Control-Around-Anyone?”

  With nowhere to go, Sebastian feels even more uncomfortable when Paul momentarily takes his eyes off the now steady stream of traffic ahead of them and chastises him further.

  “You’re kidding me, right? You’re jealous, right? I don’t believe it. I drive over to pick you up, I treat your wife with respect and you’re jealous!”

  Sebastian doesn’t answer. He knows Paul’s right and just how ridiculous he’s been. So he continues to stare out in silence and Paul focuses back on driving.

  Sebastian has found himself in unfamiliar territory and casts an anxious glance toward Paul as he reflects ruefully on his poor behaviour. He allows some warmth to creep into his voice “As much as this pains me, I have to admit that was a handy bit of driving earlier.” Paul hesitantly looks over at Sebastian and a glimpse of an acknowledging smile passes over his lips as he nods his acceptance. Paul’s little grin hasn’t gone unnoticed by Sebastian’s ever watchful eyes, so his face regains its normal seriousness and he gives Paul a staunch look. “Now would you mind getting your eyes back on the road? Or the next time it might not be a n
ear miss!”

  As the car reaches the crest of a gently undulating hill atop Truscan Park, they can see a hive of activity down near the gates. A mob of onlookers point and peer noisily, trying to deduce why the police have cordoned off a section of their park.

  2. TRUSCAN PARK

  Paul kills the motor and they approach two officers standing guard by the large sandstone walls. He flashes his badge and they point him toward a hive of police activity which is now slowly winding down. The serenity of the park seems like an unimaginable place for a murder with its plush lawns and tall broad oaks that, over the summer months, give shade to young couples on their blankets. As it is spring, the birds are in full voice and the sound of their mating calls echo through crisp but warming air.

  Sebastian ambles his way toward the murder scene and he is deep in thought. This is only his second case and he remains withdrawn silent and with worried eyes; on the other hand, Paul has a liveliness to his step and a determined look on his face.

  The police officers’ voices grow louder, breaking the serenity of their surroundings as they ready themselves to leave the crime scene. As their numbers thin, Sebastian and Paul, though still a distance away, see in their midst a young man’s body seated upright beneath one of the beautiful old oaks. He wears a navy blue tracksuit and, from where they are, the morning dew sits like tiny teardrops on his thinning fair hair and his pale complexion forms an eerie veil over a once warm face

  Packed up, the forensic team move toward them; Cameron Buckley, the Coroner, spots Sebastian and keenly heads for him. “How are you, Seb? I think you may enjoy the challenges of this case.”

  Sebastian greets him with serious eyes and tight-lipped smile, “Really? Why so? You’re the second person who’s said that this morning.”

  Cameron turns and waves his head in the direction of the corpse. “Come and I’ll show you.”

  On arrival, Sebastian can see the uniqueness of this case and is immediately consumed with curiosity. The victim’s eyelids have been glued open and his mouth is contorted and agape, as though he had suffered extreme agony before his passing. As Sebastian gets even closer his eyes ignite when he sees the victim’s legs have been neatly severed below the knees and directly in front of the corpse the missing limbs are propped into an upright position by two small forked branches that have been cut from a nearby sapling.