The Perfect Beat – 6

Saturday 7 & Sunday 8 June 2008

5:23 pm Thursday 8 May 2008

The Sarge assigned Watson to the case with Conway. They left to pick up Tim Maloney, Kelly Mason’s supposed boyfriend. They called in forty minutes later. Tim Maloney was nowhere to be found. Just like Kelly Mason, he’d disappeared from the face of the earth.

“Blake, I don’t think it’s entirely safe for you to go home alone tonight. Watson, get yourself back here now. You’re going home with Blake tonight. Conway, you and I are going around to Dave Mason’s house.”

5:40 pm Thursday 8 May 2008

The Sarge sent me home three hours early. He said there was nothing left for me to do at the station. All the paperwork now pertained to the B and E on my home so I couldn’t be involved with that. The Kelly Mason disappearance was now a murder and homicide had swooped in and taken that one off our hands so there was nothing for any of us to do on that anymore. I couldn’t help with finding Tim Maloney as he was the prime suspect in the B and E. Watson said he needed to stop off at his house and pick up some things before we headed to my house. I thought it was a stupid idea. I’m a cop, I don’t need a bodyguard. But when the Senior Sergeant gets an idea into his head, there’s no getting around it. I had a bodyguard for the night. Knowing Watson as I think I do, I’m sure he’ll have made up some sordid little story about what happened the night he got to baby-sit the lady constable. Watson is the sort of guy who, after every weekend, is desperate to tell everyone all of the gory details about his many sexual encounters over the previous 48 hours. I wasn’t looking forward to this at all.

“So Blake, everyone else at the station seems to think that just because you’re never seen out with any strapping lads that you must be a dyke. People are so judgmental. So, are you a dyke?” I think I’d prefer to take my chances alone with Tim Maloney on the loose.

7:04 pm Thursday 8 May 2008

Watson gets a call from Conway. Maloney still hasn’t been found and Dave Mason is now also missing. Watson passes the news on to me, along with a crude gesture that would suggest he wants to show me what he thinks is a good time. I perform a response gesture that hopefully suggests to him that I would make sure that he is incapable of siring children at any point in his future. He gets the picture. I’m starting to wonder if Tim Maloney really is any sort of threat at all. And why has all of this happened now? Watson wonders the same thing and we sit down to try and figure out a timeline of events, hoping to pick up on something that we may have missed earlier. I start noting down everything we can think of about the Kelly Mason case. Watson chips in with as much as he can remember from the case file. It’s coming together, slowly. Watson is sitting at the opposite side of the coffee table. He’s grinning at me. No, not grinning, leering. And I get that feeling of being watched again. He must see that my face has changed.

“Blake, what’s wrong?” I tell him about my feeling. He says that talking about the case must have spooked me.

“I don’t spook easily Watson. There’s something not right here.” He stands and goes to the front window, tells me to turn the lights off and make out like I’m going to bed. He says he thinks he can see someone out on the street but he can’t be sure. So I stand up, go over to the light switch by the door and take a quick peek out of the window. I can’t see anyone. Watson says he still can. I switch the lights off and turn in the direction that I know Watson is standing. His shape, height, stance, all exactly the same as that night. His phone rings. Frightens the life out of me.

“Turn the lights on again will you Blake. I can’t see shit here.” I’m paralysed on the spot. “Blake, the lights!” With the lights back on Watson is standing closer than I expected him to be. His face expressionless at first breaks into a smile and he laughs.

“Hey Blake, Conway wants to know if I’ve ascertained your sexual preferences yet. What should I tell him?” I give up on trying to figure out the details of this case and I lock myself in my bedroom for the night. Watson sleeps on the couch in the living room.

. . . To be continued . . .

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About Danielle

I like to write. What more is there to know?
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