ANGELS AND GHOSTS
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Assassin and the Mayoral Aspirant

Sitting in the waiting room, Rachael was unusually anxious. Meeting a murderer, coming face-to-face with a cold-blooded killer normally had her focussed and alert, her wings ready to spread, the Sword of Justice ready to fall; although this one was different. She’d heard a chilling blow-by-blow description of the rape and murder of the young girl from a now deceased witness, and it still sent shivers up her spine. Rachael closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, knowing that she needed to quell her bubbling aggression. She ran through her questions, wanting to arrange them like stepping-stones, needing the questions to set the trap … and she heard a door open.

“Miss Terina …”

Rachael opened her eyes and forced a smile. “Hello.”

“Please, come through.”

“Thank-you for seeing me.” Rachael said as she walked into his office. She noted that his face was rounded, his cheeks chubby, and the crown of his head was completely bald, the only hair being a greying band that stretched behind his skull from ear to ear; and importantly, he was no more than two inches taller than her. If she wanted to insult him, his physical appearance provided her with multiple options; Hey Chubby … Hey Baldly … and significantly, Hey Shorty …

“It’s my pleasure.” Cummings said as he directed her to a chair, then he moved around and sat at the chair behind his desk. “Now sorry, which women’s group are you from?”

“We have a Women’s Forum attached to our local Neighbourhood Watch group.”

“Sure, what can I do for you?”

“According to the latest poll, you’re a mile in front, so I was just wanting to get your opinion on a few issues.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“The main one I’m interested in is what your position is regarding violence against women.”

“Yes, okay; I would like to believe that one day we could have a country where there was no violence against anybody, but I’m realist, and I know that will never happen. In regard to violence against women, I sit in the camp that supports tougher penalties rather than lighter ones.”

“Ohhh, I’m glad you said that,” Rachael said as she looked at him. “Ever since they discovered the body in the forest, the women and girls of the local communities have been feeling a bit vulnerable.”

Did he flinch, did she detect a barely discernible flinch? Rachael kept her focus on him as she continued, “I mean everybody in the district has been rocked by the discovery, and I was thinking, God, that could have been me or somebody I know.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he said, “I believe the police are investigating that incident.”

“Yes, I believe you’re right, and I hope they catch the people responsible.”

His expression had been confident and relaxed, although it changed subtly as he said, “I’m sure our law enforcement agencies will do everything in their power to resolve the issue.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right,” she replied, watching him. “Are you intending to assist the police in their investigation?”

His eyes narrowed as he scratched his chin with the fingers of his right hand. “As a publicly elected official, I don’t interfere in police matters.”

“I understand, but if you could help, I mean if you did have information that could lead to the arrest of the culprits, would you pass that information onto the police?”

“Well yes, of course.”

“That’s good, because I believe the investigation is moving forward and the investigation team is narrowing the number of suspects.”

“Ohhh, how did you come across that information?”

“Our group has eyes and ears everywhere.”

“My understanding is that the victim hasn’t even been identified yet.”

“Well, with eyes and ears everywhere, my group has snippets of information about who the victim was.”

“Okay, so has your group spoken to the police?”

“No, not at this stage.”

“If you have information, you should be speaking to the police, not me.”

“We will be speaking to them, but information has come our way that suggests that the bones recovered from the forest belonged to a young girl, a young girl who was raped and murdered.”

“Well again, I would suggest you pass whatever information you have to the police.”

“Yes, we will, but there’s a story floating around that this young girl was murdered maybe thirty years ago, by two teenage males, and also, a teenage female witnessed the whole event.”

Cummings looked at her for a moment, then reached for his cell, and as his gaze lowered he said, “Ohhh, look at the time; you’ll have to excuse me, as I have a busy afternoon ahead of me.”

“Ummm, I’ve only just sat down, but I guess that’s okay. I realise you must be busy with the election,” Rachael said, then she asked politely, “Ohhh, by the way, did you go to Middleton High?”

He looked at her, almost studied her as he replied, “I’ve lived in Middleton my whole life, and yes I did.”

“When you were at school, did you have a nickname?” she asked, studying him.

“Okay Miss Terina, like I said, I have a busy day, so I’ll see you out.” he said as he rose from the chair.

“Shorty?” she asked, “Was your nick-name Shorty?”

A blank expression, a politician’s media-mask appearing as he replied, “No, I didn’t have a nick-name; now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He obviously had no desire to discuss the body in the forest, and his eagerness to shuffle her away had red flags popping up in her mind. Things were happening too quickly for her though, and in the rush of emotions, the chronology of her scripted questions was disastrously out of sequence. All the same, Rachael knew that the most important issue was to link this man to his two accomplices, so she asked politely, “Did you go to Johnno’s funeral in 2006?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your High School friend, Steven Shaun Johnson; did you go to his funeral in 2006?”

“Ummm, Johnson went to my school, but we weren’t friends.”

Rachael remained seated, staring at him as she said blandly, “I spoke to Cathy recently.”

“Who?”

“Cathy, Catherine Clemens.”

His face was still expressionless, although his darting eyes were telling their own story.

Rachael rested back into the chair as she said casually, “I guess you could say that I was the person who pushed Catherine Clemens over the edge.”

He shook his head and muttered, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I went and spoke to Catherine Clemens recently about an incident that occurred in 1985, and on the very day I spoke to her, she took a bunch of pills and over-dosed.”

Rachael noted all the signs; him glaring at her now, his eyes darting as he adopted an aggressive stance. “Okay, you’ve taken up enough of my time; please leave.”

“Before she killed herself, Cathy told me, told me about that night, Halloween, 1985. She told me that two men, Johnno and Shorty raped and murdered that young girl.”

He strode in front of her, glaring at her as she said sternly, “Like I said, I have a busy day and I’ll see you out.”

Rachael pushed out of the chair and said, “Yes, certainly Mr Councillor sir, certainly Mr Ivan Cummings,” then she said tersely, “Or should I call you Shorty?”

Through clenched teeth, he grumbled, “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, but do yourself a favour and start walking.”

“What if I don’t?” she huffed. “You gunna bash my head in with a rock and bury me in the State Forest?”

He recoiled, shocked, then he grabbed her arm and said, “Get out!”

She ripped her arm out of his grip, trying to compose herself. Effectively, she was three plays in front of where she should have been, but him, Ivan Cummings, it was becoming obvious that he was the one. Rachael took a step forward, stood toe-to-toe with him as she said quietly, “Here’s the deal; let’s go down to the police station, and you can confess to your crime.”

He took a step backwards, then shook his head. “Crime, what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Clemens told me everything; you and Johnson raping her, raping her three times, and then you bashed the girl to death.” Rachael said as she stared at him. No doubt now, he was the one, as it seemed like the guilt was dripping off him in large splashes. “You’ve evaded justice for thirty years, but the gig is up Shorty!”

Cummings huffed, then sneered, “Quite obviously, you’re insane, and if you don’t get the fuck out of here …”

“Funny thing, but yeah, I wouldn’t call myself insane, but I am a little bit crazy, and if you don’t come with me right now and confess to your crime, well …”

Breathing heavily, he asked, “What?”

“If you don’t confess, I’ll be coming for you.”

“Ohhh, I’m so scared!” he laughed nervously, waving his hands around theatrically. “A little girl is going to come after me!”

Rachael hunched her shoulders then snarled, “If you don’t confess, I’m going to bury you alive, right next to Jenny’s grave!”

The name made him flinch, which Rachael noted; then with his chest heaving, he said quietly, “I could sue your ass off for throwing up these ridiculous allegations, but walk away, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never bring this up again, or else.”

“Or else what?”

Cummings took a moment to regulate his breathing, then he said, “I know a few people, and I might just ask them to knock on your door.”

“You threatening me?” she snorted.

“You’re obviously working for one of my opponents, and I won’t let you smear my name with these unfounded and baseless allegations.”

Rachael squared herself up to him as she said calmly, “This is the only chance I’ll give you; come with me now and confess to your crime, or else I’ll be knocking on your door.”

Cummings moved to his desk and grabbed a pen, conjuring a smile as he looked at her and asked, “Just for future reference, what’s your address?”

Rachael returned the smile as she stated, “Cummings, Shorty, you’ll be seeing me again.”

Back in her car, Rachael ran it through her mind. It was him, no doubt about that, but how does she prove it? Sure, she could see Mark Jamieson or the FBI and tell them everything she knew, but would anything come out of that? The only witness to the crime was dead, and the only thing that tied Cummings into the crime was so far over the top, that it could never go anywhere. Ivan Cummings, why do you suspect him? … Well ya see, my friend with the brain injury, she stopped at a billboard, and the spirit of the deceased girl told her that Cummings was the person who killed her…

Rachael knew that the bouncing ball had landed right in her lap, and while she was quite prepared to deal with him, the timing couldn’t be any worse. With the election due in three weeks, presumably Cummings would be constantly on the move and even worse, he would be surrounded by staff and hangers-on.

Their paths would cross again, although Rachael frowned as she realised that it might be quite a few weeks down the track. With his threats rattling around in her mind, Rachael made a mental note to be more aware and vigilant.