ANGELS AND GHOSTS

Chapter CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



Halloween, 1985

“So if I talk to you, what happens to me?” the woman asked.

“I’ll turn you over to the police.”

“Hmmphh,” the woman snorted. “Not really my best option.”

Rachael shook her head and said dismissively, “What happens to you is the least important thing on my mind right at the moment, so just start talking.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll talk girly, because it still haunts me, I mean they didn’t just kill that girl that night, they wrecked me too, it pretty much destroyed me.”

Rachael froze. She had expected this to be about slapping her around until she gained a confession, but obviously this woman didn’t have any fight left in her. Rachael drew in a breath, composed herself, then said quietly, “Miss, I mean Catherine, if it’s affected you, well now is the right time to talk about it, so tell me what happened and why it happened.”

The woman was silent for moments, staring-at-her-lap silence; then she raised her gaze and asked quietly, “How come you know her name?”

“I know everything; I know her name and I know the exact date that if happened, and I know that two men raped her and then one of those men killed her, and yeah Sweet-cheeks, I know you were there, so you better start talking, or else my people are going to pin this murder on you.”

“I didn’t kill the girl!” she protested.

“Okay, well I want you to follow the bouncing ball here; my team have confirmed that you were there on that night, so unless you start talking, the bouncing ball is gunna land right in your lap, and you’ll be the one who goes down for it.”

Fidgety, nervous, the woman gazed at Rachael, then looked down, rubbing her knees. “Well, yeah, I was there, but I didn’t do nothing.”

“Tell me what happened.” Rachael said impatiently.

The woman blew out a breath, then muttered, “It, it was Halloween ’85, and we were sitting in Flinders Park waiting for it to get dark, and one of the boys saw the girl sitting by herself, so he waltzed over and they got talking. Turned out that she’d run away from home and she-”

“Sorry to interrupt; do you remember where she was from?”

“Ummm maybe Chicago, but I’m not sure.”

“Please continue.”

“The boys are talking to her and she admits that she ran away from home, so Johnno says that he knows a place where she can get a cheap room, and you know, the girl is pretty excited. Johnno said that he’d take her there after the party, and the girl asked, what party? So he says there’s a real big party out in the forest to celebrate Halloween. I nudged Shorty and whisper to him, What party? He tells me to shush up, and anyway, soon after, Johnno brought the beer and we headed out onto Cribb Highway. I’m still wondering how come we don’t just drink the beer in the park like we usually do, and soon Johnno pulled the car off the highway, and he grabs the beer and we walk into the forest. I remember the girl was uncomfortable, but Shorty’s going like, It’s okay, all the local young people are gunna be there. I knew that wasn’t true, because us, our group never got invited to any parties, cause we were kinda like loners and outsiders. So we got to that place and the boys and me start drinking beer, and the girl goes, Where’s everybody else? Johnno says that we like to start early, and everybody else would be there before eleven, or something like that. Anyway, we lit up, sharing a joint, and one of them offers it to the girl but she shies away. Shorty says something like, Share with us, this will get you in the mood. So we drinking and chuffing and talking for awhile, and then Johnno goes, Okay ladies, take your clothes off and I’ll get your costumes. So me, I start stripping off, cause the two of them were banging me every weekend, so I knew I’d get banged on Halloween night; but the girl, she’s not into it. I said to her, Relax, it’s just sex, but she starts going that she wants to go back into town. Johnno’s trying to make her smoke more dope, but she’s mighty pissed now and demands to be taken back. I was kinda like mocking her you know, Ohhh, the City-Girl-Princess wants to go back into town, and then anyway, she storms off and starts heading for the highway. Johnno grabs her and drags her back, and she’s kicking and screaming, and yeah, it was about this time that I started thinking, Hellcat, the boys are angry tonight. I mean Johnno was just a punk, and he liked to beat people up because he’d copped so many whoppings himself, and Shorty, yeah … well, you just didn’t upset him. So Johnno is standing in front of her, and he goes, Get undressed so that you can put your costume on. The girl is crying and screaming at him, so I stepped in then, and I said, Just let her go! He glared at me and said, Stay out of this! And I mean I don’t disobey him see, so I stood down for a bit, and Johnno goes again, Get undressed and put your costume on! The girl ain’t doing what he told her to do, and Shorty looks at her and says something like, Did you understand what he said? And the girl is snarling at them, so Shorty socks her one and sends her flying. And it started going crazy then, because the girl scrambled up and started banging her fists on Shorty’s chest, and then Johnno rips her away and grabs her in a headlock, and Shorty comes in and starts slapping her, like whack, whack, whack!”

Mia was in tears already, her right hand trembling as she placed it over her mouth.

“And I tried to stop it, I mean I’m standing there naked, and I says, Come on boys, Cathy’s raring to go! But Shorty is ripping the girl’s dress off, then he’s pulling her underwear off, and she’s screaming the Heaven’s down, so Shorty punched her again. Then he went over and got something, and he holds it up and goes, Hey City Girl, here’s your costume.”

The woman seemed to slouch down with the memory, bowing her head.

“What was the costume?” Rachael asked quietly.

“Weren’t no costume,” the woman replied, “It was just some rope.”

Mia gasped and buried her face in her hands, and Rachael rubbed Mia’s right shoulder as she said, “Keep going.”

The woman didn’t raise her face, but Rachael could tell that she was crying.

“They, they took her over to a tree, and Johnno was holding her in a headlock still as Shorty tied up one of her hands and then ran the rope around the back of the tree, then tied her other hand.”

Mia pushed up and ran out of the room, out of the house, the security door slamming closed behind her.

Rachael briefly considered going after her, although her attention was caught by her cell beeping. Angry already, Rachael raked a hand through her hair, then looked at the cell. From Marco, so she opened the message.

Don’t know if it helps, but got details on the blond guy;

Steven Shaun Johnson, former mechanic, police record;

died January 2006.

Rachael glared at the woman and said, “Go on.”

The woman blubbered and sniffled, then looked up. “The honest truth, I tried to stop it here, cause it was way outta control, like the boys never tied me up or nothing, so I pulled on Johnno’s arm saying, Come on, stop this shit! Shorty just kinda strolled up to me and glared at me, and he says, Stay out of this. And like I said, they were my friends okay, they were the only friends I had, but I was scared shitless of Shorty, so I didn’t ever disobey him.”

Rachael coughed out a humourless laugh, then said, “It must have been obvious that they were going to rape her, and you just let it happen?”

“I told you, I’m scared shitless of Shorty, so I don’t upset him, okay. Besides, nobody ever been nice to me, I mean kids from school picked on me my whole life, and my folks didn’t give a hoot about me, so when the boys start bossing the girl around, I’m thinking, okay, at least it’s not me getting shit on.”

The woman tilted her glasses up to wipe away the tears, and when the glasses were readjusted, Rachael prompted her, “Go on.”

“Well, yeah, they did rape her.”

Rachael bit her bottom lip, then said quietly, “Keep going.”

The woman drew in a breath, fluttered it out then said, “They drank a beer and smoked another joint, and I’m like, Okay, let’s get going, but maybe an hour later, I don’t remember exactly, Johnno dropped his pants again and says, Soon, we’ll get going soon. I’m in a mess by now, because the girl’s screaming and crying and hollering, so I says, Hey, come on, do me, leave the girl alone. But no, they went again, and they were really rough with her, and the girl kinda collapsed after that one.”

Silence, the glasses tilted up to wipe the tears.

Rachael rubbed her brow, then looked up at her. “How many times did they rape her?”

“One more time.”

“Three times?”

“Yeah, but the last one, I think she’d passed out by then, I mean they kinda had to lift her up and support her to, you know, like do it.”

Rachael felt a cold shiver reverberate up her spine, then she asked coolly, “And what happened next?”

The woman looked up at her, right at her, and her voice wavered as she said, “I’m saying, Come on, let’s go! And Shorty comes over and he says real calm like, Cath, go to the car. And to me this is a good idea, and I’m like, Okay, let’s go. Shorty grabbed my chin and he forced me to look at him, and he says … like I remember this clear as day, he says, Go to the car, and Cath, Cathy, this never happened, okay? I’m freaking out, but I went to the car, and I got no idea how long I was sitting in the car by myself, and when they eventually came back to the car, I says, Maybe we should take the girl back, and Johnno says, She can make her own way back. And I’m staring at Shorty, because he’s got blood all over his hands and his shirt, and he sees me staring at him, so he says, Cath, this never happened, okay? I was crying now, like crying hysterical, and he grabs my chin, and he goes, Cath, Cathy, nobody’s ever going to find her, so just remember, this never happened. Then he squeezed my chin so hard that I thought my jaw was gunna snap, and he says, You be a good girl now, or else we could find a spot for you, right next to her.”

The woman took her glasses off and wiped the tears away, then said, “So I knew, I knew that he’d killed her.”

Rachael’s immediate thought was to saw the woman’s head off and cut her intestines out, but no, maybe that was for another day. She gulped, then looked at the woman as she said snappily, “Names.”

Blubbering, the woman gazed at her, “What?”

“Johnno and Shorty, what are their names?”

“Johnno, Steven Johnson, but he died a few years back.”

Honesty was good, Rachael liked honesty, especially when her stomach was churning. “Shorty?”

The woman bowed her head.

“Shorty?” Rachael asked again.

The woman shivered, then looked at her as she said, “I’m more scared of Shorty than I am of you.”

Action required. Rachael walked over aggressively and squatted before her as she said sneeringly, “Let me just tell you something Darling, I, me, I’m the scariest person you’re ever likely to meet, so give me the name.”

“Yeah, whatchya gunna do to me?”

Rachael snorted, then she said through clenched teeth, “I can cut you in thirty different places, and make you die in unbearable agony.”

The woman recoiled, but surprisingly, she then looked straight at her as she said, “Go on then.”

“Fuck,” Rachael wheezed, “Just give me the name!”

“You kill me, or he kills me, what’s the difference?” the woman scoffed. “My life is a nightmare, I mean I’ve been living in a nightmare for thirty years, so if it ends, I couldn’t give a hoot!”

Rachael walked over and grabbed the ginger cat, the cat hissing and snarling at the rough treatment, then Rachael produced a knife, and holding the dangling cat under its jaw, she snarled, “Tell me the name, or else this little fucker’s blood is going to be all over your face!”

“Don’t hurt Megsy!” she screamed.

“The name!” Rachael bellowed.

“Do it, do it, come on, kill me!” she roared.

Rachael hurled the cat away, and after it crashed into the couch, it scampered away in terror, and roused by the commotion, the black and white cat bolted as well.

Rachael pushed right into her face, trying to control herself. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about things, but if you don’t give me his name, I’m gunna skin those mangy cats right in front of your eyes!” Rachael took a deep breath then said calmly, “Life is all about choices see, it’s normally about ticking a box. Unfortunately for you, you don’t get a choice on this one, you either tell me the name of this Shorty asshole, or else.”

Shivering, trembling, the woman asked, “Or else what?”

Rachael pushed into her face and said threateningly, “If you don’t tell me his name, well after I’ve killed your cats, I’ll fucking skin you while you’re still alive.”

Rachael was just about to reinforce her threat, when something outside caught her eye. “Fuck!” she spluttered. She scampered outside to find Mia lying on the ground, obviously in pain. “Mia, headache?”

Mia blubbered and trembled, so Rachael raced to the car and grabbed her handbag. She tipped two pills into her hand, then helped Mia into a sitting position. “Come on Baby, open up.”

Two pills, two gulps, then Rachael embraced her, stunned, by everything. She helped Mia into the car and said compassionately, “Try and relax Honey and I’ll take you home.”

She raced back into the house and saw Clemens shuffling the cats outside, so she wrenched her around, and barely six inches away from her face, she snarled, “When I come back I want that assholes name, or else your nightmare will be a hundred times worse.”

Blinds were discretely lifted as curious neighbours watched the car speed away.

*

An hour later, Rachael helped Mia into her unit, then led her to the bedroom.

“Lie down and rest Mia, I’ll hang around until you feel better.”

Physically diminished by the migraine, Mia replied weakly, “Thank-you.”

Rachael sat on the bed and caressed Mia’s brow, watching as she shivered and twitched.

Forty minutes later, Rachael assumed that she was asleep, so she got up as quietly as she could, then began to tip-toe away, although the voice stopped her.

“Rach …”

“What?”

Mia winced as she pushed herself up, “Did you find out who they are?”

“She gave me the name of one guy, and as it turns out, he died in 2006; the other guy, well I’ll go and see that bitch again, and I guarantee you, I’ll get his name.”

Mia sighed, rubbed her brow, then said, “Maybe you should tell the police.”

“Soon, I will soon, but I want the name first.”

With a hand still on her brow, Mia looked up sheepishly and said, “Rach, thank-you, thank-you for everything.”

Rachael smiled and said, “Just rest up.”

Rachael went and sat on the couch, brooding. Tell the cops? Tell them what? Hi, my friend who has a brain injury went under hypnosis and she saw the events unfolding because the dead girl is in her mind, see … What do you mean you need something a little more concrete?

Rachael had no doubt that she was more likely to get the name out of the woman than the police were, because she had a knife, and she was in a really bad mood, and also, her wings were fluttering anxiously, so she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Once she had the name, she would turn Catherine Elizabeth Clemens over to the police, but Shorty?

Illinois had abolished the death penalty a few years ago, so if Shorty was found guilty, he would still be on the planet for who knows how long; living, being alive, that is, if he was ever convicted. The case against him would be hard to put together; after thirty years, the possibility of finding any DNA evidence was almost zero, the only thing the case would have going for it was a witness who saw the whole event, although she was a witness who seemed like she would rather die than give up the murderer.

Rachael froze … the witness.

On finding Mia on the lawn, she’d forgotten all about Catherine Elizabeth Clemens, as getting Mia home became her focus. The bitch had been left by herself for more than three hours, and she could flee, or tell Shorty that someone was onto him, and he could flee.

Rachael strode into the bedroom, then noticed with a hint of relief, that Mia was soundly asleep.

Back to Middleton.

*

Thirty minutes later, she was there, and with her anger brewing, she pulled on the security door. “Fuck!” She knocked loudly, “Clemens, open up!”

Seconds ticking by, Rachael bashed harder, “Open up, you fuckwit!”

As she hammered on the door, Rachael noticed the door of the house on her right opening, an elderly woman staring at her.

“Clemens, open up!”

The door on the house to her left opened, an elderly man calling out, “Hello, can I help you?”

Under pressure, pissed off, Rachael moved to the window and jabbed her elbow into it, the glass cracking and splintering.

“Hey, you,” the man yelled, “I’ll call the police!”

Rachael brushed the glass away, hopped into the room, then froze.

Stunned, she shook her head and moaned, “Noooo … for fucks sake!”

Catherine Elizabeth Clemens was sitting awkwardly in her chair, her head flopped to the left, both arms hanging limply, fresh vomit still dribbling down the left side of her chin.

A man banged on the door, “Hey you, what’s going on?”

Rachael saw the empty bottle of pills by her right leg, so she rushed over and felt for a pulse, but then moaned despondently, “Fuck, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Let me in right now!” the man yelled.

Rachael cursed, then moved to the door, unlocking the front door and the security door. “Quick, come in,” Rachael panted, “I think she’s taken an overdose!”

The man shuffled in and knelt by the chair, the smell of vomit having him recoil, then he moved in again, gently slapping her cheeks. “Cath, Cathy?”

“I think she’s dead,” Rachael said solemnly, “I’ll ring the police.”

Rachael engaged her cell and then strode out onto the portico, although she flinched when she saw five people standing out the front of the house.

“What’s happening?” somebody asked.

“Ummm Catherine, Cathy has taken an overdose and I’m calling an ambulance.”

A hushed whisper began, until the elderly lady from next door pointed at Rachael and said, “That girl was banging on her door and threatening Cathy!”

Somebody else called out, “And she was here earlier this afternoon, I remember that car!”

Rattled, totally fucked off, Rachael moved back into the house when she heard him pick up. “Rachael?”

“Hey Mark, are you working?”

“Yeah, I’m at the station.”

“I need you to come down to 15 Cresswell Street, East Middleton right away!”

“Arrhh Middleton, that’s not our jurisdiction-”

“Just fucking get here!” she bellowed, then she added soberly, “Call an ambulance as well.”

“What the Hell’s going on?”

Rachael tried to compose herself as she said, “Some old bitch took an overdose and I think she’s dead, but more importantly, I think I’m gunna need your help.”

“Why, what’s going-”

“Mark, can you just fucking get here!”

Two women had moved inside, both of them kneeling by the body, both crying, and Rachael looked out the door, a dozen people on the portico now. Rachael rubbed her brow and moaned, then something caught her eye.

The cat’s bowls, both full.

Before killing herself, the bitch had been considerate enough to make sure the mangy little critters had food and milk. “Fucking unbelievable.” she muttered, then her attention was captured as the elderly woman from next door hobbled up to her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she asked shakily, “What did you do to her?”

“Me, no, I didn’t do anything.”

“You were banging on her door!” the woman stated, then she turned to three people who had timidly crept into the house, and she said, “She was banging on Cathy’s door and threatening her!”

A scruffy middle-aged man took a few paces forward and demanded, “What did you do to her?”

Rachael shook her head and said defensively, “No, no, I didn’t do anything. I was worried that she was going to harm herself, so I just wanted to check that she was okay!”

“You called her a fuckwit!” a man yelled out, and a woman added, “You smashed her window in!”

“Jesus,” Rachael muttered, “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Ohhh,” the woman from next door gasped, “She assaulted a girl earlier on; I saw the girl lying on the front lawn!”

“No, wait, wait …”

A man screamed out, “She’s a murderer!”

And somebody else called out, “And she bashes women!”

And somebody else called out, “And she smashed Cathy’s window!”

Rachael threw her hands up and said briskly, “Hey, hey, everybody, settle down; the police are on their way!”

“We’re not letting you out of the house until they get here!” the scruffy middle-aged man declared.

“Fuck, fucking shit!” Rachael muttered as she walked away.

“You’re going to prison!” somebody called out.

And somebody else added, “We’ll make sure you get the death penalty!”

A murmur, then a mumbled correction. “Jim, Illinois ain’t got the death penalty no more.”

“How come?”

“Ohhh you know, leftie, socialist bullshit.”

Voices all around her, her brow thumping, and Rachael felt as if she was in a three-act play, and every act saw her situation becoming more calamitous, although thankfully, she heard the siren. “People relax, the police are here.”

Everybody listened, one man mumbling, “She broke Cathy’s window.”

Rachael saw Mark and another officer get out of the car. Mark trotted up the portico and into the hallway, looking around at the gathering then focussing on Rachael as he asked, “What’s going on?”

Rachael herded him into the kitchen, then shook her head in frustration as she mumbled, “I’ve got a bit of a situation here …”

She heard a man telling the other officer, “She broke Cathy’s window!”

Looking suitably stunned, Mark said, “Yeah, so maybe you should tell me about it.”

Rachael tried to slow her racing mind, then gazed at him, “Ummm …”

“Yes, go ahead.”

In a fluster, in a cluster-fuck of confusion, Rachael assumed that she needed to get him onside, so she looked up at him and said quietly, “You look quite dashing tonight.”

“Jesus,” he wheezed, “What the Hell is going on here?”

“Fuck me in the ass,” she muttered, “I came here this afternoon to see this woman; I mean this is all related to the body in the forest-”

“You’re kidding me.” Mark blew out in disbelief.

“No, listen!” she commanded. “We got a lead through Mia’s hypnosis, and it led me to this woman, so yeah, I came and saw her earlier on, and then Mia …” Rachael paused, knowing how it was going to sound.

The level of noise in the loungeroom was growing to hysterical proportions, and as she heard the ambulance siren getting closer, she hung her head. “Mark…”

“What?”

“Maybe you should cuff me and take me back to the station.”

Mark sighed, then said bluntly, “You’ll be going to the station alright, but it will be Middleton.”

“Fuck off!”

“Rachael, a crime or a, a … whatever the Hell this is, has happened here, so I don’t get a choice.”

“Fuck, alright,” she moaned.

Mark grabbed her forearm and began to lead her away, but she resisted.

“Cuff me!”

“I’m not going to cuff you!”

Rachael ran a hand over her face as she said forlornly, “Look, if you don’t cuff me, I might get beaten to death by a bunch of geriatrics, so put the fucking cuffs on!”

Shaking his head, he enclosed her right wrist, then her left.

Not the time for subtle sexual innuendoes, although she couldn’t help herself as she muttered wryly, “I’ve always wanted you to cuff me, although this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

*

Six hours in a police station, and Rachael had every right to be mega-pissed, but she was so tired, she couldn’t give a fuck about anything. Six hours of non-stop questions;

You were there earlier in the day?

Yes.

Why?

I lent her some money and I wanted it back.

How much?

One hundred dollars.

What was the loan for?

She said it was to pay for medical expenses, but I found out that wasn’t true.

What was it for then?

She was buying pills, and I was afraid that she was thinking about killing herself.

It’s becoming apparent that she did overdose.

So let me go then.

You could have forced the pills down her throat!

I’m sure you’ll find that there were no signs of a struggle, and she took the pills herself.

Six hours, over and over; repeating, back-tracking, then going over it again.

Sheriff Jeff Chandler released her with the advice, ‘Obviously, we’ll be needing to speak to you again after we’ve confirmed what’s happened.’

Rachael flopped into bed and fiddled with her cell; nine messages; six from Mia, three from Mark. Exhausted and emotionally flattened, she tossed the cell away and closed her eyes.

*

By the end of the week, the Middleton Police had cleared her of any involvement, although Sheriff Chandler said the neighbours were angry about the broken window, and he suggested that she pay for a new one.


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