Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (26 page)

The male continued to stare at nothing and
remained motionless. She tried to lash out but the restraints held
tight.

Then the shadow spoke.

"
If only you
had the same reaction when you first met all those years ago, we
would not be here today. Mother meet father, as if introductions
are necessary. You two know each other intimately already. He must
have been something in his day mother. Why else would you so
willingly submit yourself to him? Well that is all academic now,
you did choose him and he chose you. Together you created your own
existence in which to live. Till death did you part.

I've been doing some calculations over the
years, and although I'm not that good at maths even I can see that
my birthday is only seven months after your marriage, how noble of
you mother, not wanting to bring a bastard into the world.

As you can see father is in no state to
present his case, but that is the idea, today is not for him, it is
for you. Father has already paid the price for his miserable
contribution to the world.

Today is for you to have your turn. It is
for you to put right the wrongs, stand up for yourself and more
importantly stand up and protect me. It is something that should
come natural to a mother. It is something that is as primal as
nature. There should be a natural instinct in anything capable of
bearing young.

That is the problem with the human being, we
have an over developed brain, capable of all sorts of variations.
Animals have basic instincts, which they will carry out at all
costs. You see it ensures the survival of the species.

Humans have free will, selfishness, fear,
anger, sadness. All these things jostle around in our heads,
sometimes we cannot control which comes to the fore. Sometimes we
do not care.

Did you care mother? Did you care when he
did those things to you. Did you care when he did those things to
me.

I needed protection
mother, why did you put up with it for so
long
".

The shadow sounded deranged to Marion, she
could not comprehend why he thought of her as his mother. Was he
asking her or was he telling her when he spoke. She did not know if
she was supposed to answer.

She felt like a little girl, scared and
lost. She did not want to get it wrong; she did not want to let
this man down. Marion heard the music start again, her body started
moving, slow jerky movements, not really in time with the beat. The
tune was the same as she heard him whistling when he had taken her.
The dance continued as she circled the comatose male in front of
her.

He just continued to stare into
nothingness.

The office was in complete silence, the
drama played out in real time on the small screens everyone was
intently watching. The initial anticipation of a result reduced to
helpless horror, as they realised that they had the wrong man.

Matthews broke into the silence as he
entered the room. "Where the fuck is Bridger?
”

"He's on his way back sir", Grant said. "It
appears that Jonas had a hydroponic Cannabis operation in his
warehouse. He has left the uniforms in charge of the scene. Becky
is bringing Jonas in to the cells".

"That
’
s all good and well but he
practically assured me that he as good as had Marion back. Mrs.
Watson is upstairs watching the same thing as you are. I don't have
to tell you how she is feeling".

"Do you want me to go and sit with her", Jo
suggested, "I have met with her before and may be able to offer her
some comfort".

Matthews looked at Jo. "Who are
you?
”
he
demanded.

"Jo Williamson, Sir, Sergeant Bridger asked
me to help out for a few weeks in his team".

"Did he just, well he hasn't said
anything to me about it......, well lucky for you
there
’
s not
much I can do about it at the moment as Sergeant Bridger is not
here to confirm it".

Jo stayed silent, unsure of how to
respond.

"Go up and sit with her then, she's in
the office next to mine..., I take it you know where that is, don't
you?
”

"Yes sir", Jo said, turning bright red.

"Well don't just stand there girl, get on
with it".

"Yes sir".

Bridger's mood had not improved as he
practically ran up the stairs to the second floor. The knuckles on
his right hand were swelling slightly and he had pulled a muscle in
his left shoulder. As he entered the corridor he caught site of Jo
going through the door at the other end, he was still looking in
that direction when he collided with Matthews coming out the office
door. Bridger pushed past him and into the office without a word.
He could feel Matthews stare drilling into his back but did not
care. He still had a job to do. Marion was still out there and he
had wasted enough time on bullshit.

"Where are we at?
”
he asked Grant.

"There's been a development. We have an
unknown male in the shot now. He seems to be strapped to some kind
of upright gurney. Sam the tech has managed to zoom in a bit and it
appears he is still breathing, although he looks fairly out of
it".

Bridger was looking at the monitor and could
see Marion dancing around in a strange waltz with her invisible
partner. She was circling the male Grant had described, who was not
paying any attention to the show. There was a vaguely familiar tune
playing in the background.

"There's also been a bit of dialogue, Mike.
It was more of the same about Marion being his mother, and then
something about the male being his father. It sounds like he wants
Marion to put right some issues he had with his childhood".

"Could the male in the shot be the one
who is holding Marion?
”
Bridger asked.

"Not unless he is a ventriloquist who can
throw his voice", Sam said. "The feed is live, it hasn't been pre
recorded. He is somewhere nearby though, watching everything. I
would say he is the one controlling the puppet strings as well, a
real one man band".

"How are we getting on with finding out
where that place is", Bridger said, looking directly at Sam.

Sam looked at the far corner of the
room.

Bridger followed his gaze and saw the two
pale geeks from Revenge.com working feverishly on a computer. He
did not know whether the reek of cannabis he could now smell was
coming from them or from his exposure to what was growing in the
warehouse.

"As soon as they know, we will know", Sam
said.

Bridger looked at Grant, the question
unspoken. Grant just shrugged his shoulders. "We need all the help
we can get", he said.

"Where was Jo going when I came
in?
”
Bridger asked the room.

"She's upstairs with Mrs. Watson", Matthews
said loudly.

Bridger looked behind him, he had not
realised Matthews was still there, his bulky frame almost obscuring
the doorframe.

"Have you got anything to add, oh gracious
leader", Bridger said sarcastically.

The look of contempt in
Matthews
’
s
eyes was unmistakable. "I'll see you in my office
Sergeant".

Bridger turned his back on Matthews and was
about to say something.

"Now", Matthews growled.

"Yes sir".

Jo was sitting opposite Mrs. Watson; the
computer monitor was glowing on the table beside them. Its ghastly
images seared into both of their minds. Neither of them had to look
at the screen to know what was going on. Mrs. Watson had been
crying, Jo could tell that as soon as she walked into the room. She
looked like she was about to say something to her then stopped
herself and looked at the floor.

"Is there anything I can get you Mrs.
Watson? I'm here to help you as best I can while we locate
Marion".

"Both Glenn and Gregg promised me that they
knew where Marion was and she would be fine", Mrs. Watson said.
"Now Glenn has disappeared to god knows where and Gregg is being
elusive. It is just like what happened that night, years ago. You
can't trust the police, you couldn't then and you can't now".

Jo guessed that Gregg was inspector Matthews
but she had no idea who Glenn was.

"All I can see of my daughter is what that
bloody computer shows me. Don't you people have computer people who
can work out where she is"?

"We have a person working on that right now
Mrs. Watson, he is doing the best he can".

Mrs. Watson just looked at her as if she was
something she had stepped in. Jo did not know what to say so looked
away. She caught a glimpse of Matthews and Bridger walking into the
office next door. Matthews was full of outraged importance, Bridger
had the look of a petulant schoolboy.

Detective work had always appealed to her,
ever since she had first walked into a police station wearing her
brand new uniform. The Detectives were always smartly dressed and
had a look of confidence about them that the hard working and
mostly junior uniform staff were missing. The Detectives all looked
to have their lives on track, job prospects sorted. They were like
adults and she still felt like a teenager in need of guidance.

While in uniform she felt she was always
rushing from one job to another, never having time to do anything
that made a difference. She wanted more from her job; she wanted to
be involved in solving the crime she attended.

She thought about Bridger and about what she
had just seen. She was not normally one to form opinions on people
so quickly, she preferred to give them a chance to show whom they
really were. She was not sure that Detective Sergeant Bridger would
fit into that category. She had not met him before last weekend but
had seen him about and heard from other people their mixed opinions
of him. He certainly seemed pre occupied to her now and she could
not recall him not smelling of stale alcohol. It looked as if he
was human after all.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can
get you Mrs. Watson?
”

"No thank you Constable. I think I've had
enough from the police to last me a lifetime".

Jo looked at the elderly woman sitting in
front of her; she could see that she was upset, the way she kept
glancing at the computer. It looked as if she was reassuring
herself that Marion was still alive.

Marion had been dancing for a good ten
minutes, if you could call it dancing. Attached to the wooden frame
she looked like Pinocchio, a wooden toy manipulated by a child.
Movements
’
jerky, uncoordinated. That tune playing in the background was
vaguely familiar to Jo, something from her childhood. Memories were
stirring of her parent
’
s living room, music playing on the Hi Fi
system her father was so proud to own. The name of it was on the
tip of her tongue, but yet still elusive. Mrs. Watson was
subconsciously humming along with the tune, eyes closed now, lost
in her own thoughts. A single tear running down the paper like skin
on her cheeks, lined with faint purple veins.

"Do you know what this tune is Mrs.
Watson?
”
Jo
asked.

Mrs. Watson's eyes opened slowly rose a
little and stared right back at Jo. Although they had eye contact,
Jo was doubtful Mrs. Watson was actually seeing her. Her eyes had a
deep faraway look about them.

"Mrs. Watson, do you know what this tune is?
It might be helpful to us in finding your daughter".

"I remember this from a long time ago,
Constable. It was a time in my past that I thought I would never
have to revisit. A song was so popular at the time. It played
constantly on the radio, hundreds of times a day. I remember it
well. I was so young back then, younger than you are now. I did not
know anything of life. I was a naive little girl, a stupid little
girl. It is life's greatest tragedy, the fact that we only gain the
knowledge and maturity, as we get older. It is too late by then,
the choices you make as you grow from child to adult shapes the way
you live the rest of your life. I thought I knew it all, I thought
I was so grown up. My whole life was ahead of me, but all I could
see was what was in front of me at the time".

Mrs. Watson was shivering and she was
holding back more tears as she spoke.

"I have tried telling Marion that her whole
life, she needs to make the right choices. I thought she was going
to be okay when she did so well in her first few years at
university. Ever since she met that boy, her attitudes have changed
though. She is making the same choices I made. It will ruin
her".

Jo looked at the computer monitor thinking
that it will not only be her choices shaping her life now. Marion
looked in no state to make any choices even if she was able.

"Are you involved with anyone
Constable?
”

"I have a boyfriend Mrs. Watson; we have
been seeing each other for a few years".

"I hope he treats you right, they don't all
act the same I'm told. My experience with men has not been so
blissful unfortunately".

Jo wanted to press Mrs. Watson on the name
of the tune, in case it was important, but thought better of it.
Mrs. Watson looked like she wanted to talk. Maybe it would keep her
mind off Marion while they were trying to find her. She moved her
chair closure to Mrs. Watson and put a hand on her knee.
Surprisingly Mrs. Watson placed a hand on top of hers and gripped
it tightly. She started crying, long pitiful sobs. The floodgates
opened in the dam that had so long held back her darkest
emotions.