Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male/female sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don't read any further.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental.
Accolades, encouragement, suggestions, comments, and corrections are welcome and gladly accepted. Flames will be utterly ignored. dog_oocl@yahoo.com.au
Chapter 11.
It is a very nice leafy Eastern Suburb street, well maintained terrace houses on both side, I stop outside No.50. A neat two storey house, except the vegetation in the front garden is a bit overgrown, and the recycle bin is overflowing with empty wine bottles. It's only 8:30am, better be early than late. Det. Rogerson's unmarked police car parks right behind me on the dot at 9.
"Good morning, James, sorry I'm late"
"Good morning, Detective, I was early, shall we go in?"
We are just about to ring the bell and an old lady in her 70s jumps out from the next door and asks "Young men, are you looking for somebody?"
"Good morning ma'am, we are after Mrs. Markey, I'm Det. Rogerson and this is James Menzie"
"Is she in any kind of trouble? Detective? Roslyn should be home, she never goes out these days, I think she drinks too much, look at those empty bottles" she points at the bin, and whispers, "she's not half what she was before the divorce, I suspect she is suffering from depression, I feel so sorry for her, and especially her son Ross"
"Can you tell us anything about Ross?" Rogerson asks.
"Oh, that Ross is a really good kid, he goes to St.Paul, the local school. Such a sad case, he basically lost both parents, father to another woman, mother to drinking. But he never stops going to school, comes home everyday, cleans the house, looks after his mother, he told me he wants to study music when he finishes HSC, he plays piano well. Roslyn used to be a concert pianist, that's before alcohol destroyed her. Now I remember, I haven't seen Ross for nearly two days, is he alright?"
"Sort of, ma'am, I can't tell you more, does Ross have any other relatives, grandparents? uncles?"
"His grandparents live in U.K. they used to come every Christmas, but since his grandpa developed a heart problem, they stopped visiting the Markeys quite a few years now"
"What about Ross' father?"
"I believe he lives in Queensland with his second wife, Roslyn wants nothing to do with him and doesn't allow Ross to make contact with him"
"Well, thank you very much for your information, may we call in again for your help in the near future, ma'am? I didn't get your name"
"Anytime, young men, I'm Mrs. Wrendt, my husband died 10 years ago, I'm now living on my own, all my kids have their own families now" She goes on for another 10 minutes, Rogerson takes her phone No. down.
No answer to the door bell, Rogerson uses Ross's key to let ourselves in. All the timber blinds are down, we turn on the light and find the place tastefully furnished. Leather sofas, a baby grand at the corner, long polished dining table. We gingerly open each room on our way in.
"Hello, anyone there?" No answer, until we open to a large bedroom and see a female with a full head of blond hair sleeping soundly. We knock on the door loudly trying to wake her up but without success. Rogerson decides to shake her, he walks toward the bed and just when his hand reaches out, she opens her eyes and starts screaming, "who are you, get out, get out, I'll call the police" Rogerson has to flash his police badge repeatedly, and it took us more than 10 minutes before we manage to calm her down and make her realise he is from the police.
We wait in the kitchen while she gets dressed. When she walks in, I could see the resemblance, except the color of the hairs. Without those dark rings around her eyes, she is a very attractive woman. She sobers up with a strong cup of coffee, then Rogerson explains to her the situation Ross is in. She starts to shake, I'm not sure if it is caused by her concern over Ross or the effect of alcohol. Then she starts to sob.
"Oh hell, I've ruined my son's life, only if I paid a bit more attention to him instead of wallowing in my own sorrows. Tell me, what should I do now?"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Markey about the whole situation. We will first need to establish the nature of the relationship between your son and the deceased Father O'Connor, so, can you tell us what you know about Father O'Connor, how they came to know each other, and how close were the two, and did Ross ever mention to you if there was any animorsity between him and Father O'Connor. Then, with your permission, I would like to take a look at Ross' belongings, computer records and so forth. You will also have to decide whether you want to employ your own lawyers to represent Ross or stick with Legal Aid, the choice is yours. Mr. James Menzie is from Legal Aid, he is looking after your son's case at the moment, I'll let him go through the options with you while I'm having a look at Ross' room later on"
"Father O'Connor was my priest and family friend for many years. He and Ross were getting on well, Ross often studied at his place, sometimes stayed overnight. Father O'Conner was a father figure to him, I just couldn't imagine why this happened. Father O'Connor killed by Ross? Oh, God, it couldn't be true! I couldn't think of any reason for Ross to do this, Detective" she starts crying again. I takes over the conversation with her while Rogerson goes to Ross' bedroom for a search. I remind of the iPod.
"Mrs. Markey, as you know Ross is 18 years old, and I assume he has no income of his own, therefore he is entitled to Legal Aid. However, if you wish to employ your own lawyers to represent Ross, I have not problem with that. But before you decide, I must advise you that a case like this could drag on for a long period of time, and I couldn't even give you a ballpark figure on what the final costs might be, except it will be substantial"
"I know how expensive it could be for legal advice, ask my divorce lawyers. If I go for our own legal advice, I'll need to sell this house, the only income I receive is child support payment from Ross' father" So, I'm still on the case.
Rogerson comes back to the kitchen, and asks if he could take Ross' computer back to the police station to be checked over by the IT unit, he then hands over the iPod to me. Roslyn asks when she could visit Ross. Rogerson heads for Father O'Connor's residence, and I takes Roslyn to Darlinghurst Police Station. I give her the iPod to pass on to Ross, she stays for more than an hour.
"I'll keep in touch, Mrs. Markey" I write down her phone No. before I drop her off at her paddington home, she stands on her doorsteps, looking forlorn, a very sorry figure indeed. I wait until she went in, then I knock on Mrs. Wrendt's door, "Oh, you, that's James, isn't it? what can I do for you?"
"Mrs. Wrendt, could you do me a favor? Would you look out for Mrs. Markey? She is not in a good state, her son is in police custody, I can't discuss his case with you at the moment, it will all come out in the press, but please keep an eye on her" She is a busy body with a kind heart.
I wonder what's on Ross' computer, and what could be found at Father O'Connor's residence, I'm getting impatient, I hate the waiting game, I'm restless most of the morning.
Phone rings, "Hi, James, Rogerson here, I think you should come to the station and have a look at some files on both computers, our IT guys managed to bypass their password locks"
Me, Rogerson, and a couple of junior detectives sit in front of Father O'Connor's laptop, images popping up onto the screen one by one, I don't think shocking is the word, disgust is more appropriate. Rogerson's face turn all red, with anger. My mind is thinking beyond acquittal, and progressing towards compensation claim.
(To be continued.....)