Chapter 20
On the final night of Max’s suspension his mind is racing so fast he’s slept for no more than an hour and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the temptation to get up and watch TV or do something to take his mind off his brother. Occasionally he'd lie on his side and stare at his sleeping wife. He couldn't see her properly in the darkness but there was enough city light coming through the open curtains to give him a slight outline of her face. He remembers back to when they met in their late teens. Nothing but her mattered to him back then.
For the first time in his short life, teenaged Max met a girl he couldn't imagine being away from. Only a year into dating and he was considering how he'd propose. This surprised even him at the time because he had never considered marriage before. Nor should he have at that age. He didn't care for the idea. But all that changed. He grew so determined to propose that he scared himself out of doing it for years. After they had been dating for a few years and even after he bought an engagement ring he kept it in his pocket for months with the intention of proposing but could never get the words out.
One day Tahlia sat on his lap and could feel the ring box in his pocket and asked him about it. He joked about her turning him on but she knew what it was just by the shape and pressed him for details until he pulled it out of his pocket and told her how long he had held on to it. Tahlia was so excited she put the ring on and said yes without Max actually asking. He was happy with that.
But now, as he lies in bed and looks at her in the dark, the excitement has gone. Sure enough he still thinks she’s beautiful but he's not sure about love anymore. He tries to pinpoint a time when the shine left and the doubts came but is left wondering. He just knows things aren't what they used to be.
By five thirty he feels like he’s been lying in bed long enough and gets up to enact a very slow showering and dressing routine before heading into work for the first time in two weeks. Everyone will have been talking about him. They’ll stare at him. Whisper behind his back. Nothing he can do about that.
His drive to work almost resulted in rear ending a motorbike, the shock of which forced him to pull over and gather himself. As he sat in his car with traffic speeding past him he could have sworn he was almost going to cry.
Max sits at his desk having walked the psychological gauntlet from his car and past his colleagues. A few said ‘hello’. Now he’s pretending to read a file, something about a gun - or something. He doesn't care and can't focus. There had been no new murders during his time off and his brother hadn’t rung back. He did try calling the number saved on the phone but a recorded voice told him he couldn’t make outgoing calls.
From his desk he can see through the windows surrounding the meeting room he had used with Alan to speak with the team investigating the murders. The room is currently populated by Earl and Carl and at least another dozen detectives Max used to meet with. The room has a large board at one end with photos and documents pinned to it. In the centre of the board, taking pride of place, is Max’s own photo. It’s meant to signify his brother, but Max still can't help but feel like he's the one everybody looks at suspiciously. Still, in that room is where he wants to be.
He wants to get closer and take a look so he takes a slow walk to the office kitchenette trying not to attract too much attention as he slips past the meeting room and gets a good view of the board.
Earl is mid-sentence, “We’re almost done with...” Both Earl and Carl look in unison toward Max. Mission failure, they've spotted him. He moves on to the kitchenette after he gives a little wave and a smile. None of his colleagues are impressed although Carl does wave back. Earl would have covered the evidence board with his body to protect it from Max's prying eyes if he could have.
Seeing as he was now at the kitchenette anyway Max figures he might as well make himself a coffee. He watches the steam bubble from the kettle spout as it spits tiny boiling splashes of water until the auto-off trips and the violent bubbling water calms, breaking Max from his day dream. Only now, pouring the boiling water into his cup, does he notice Earl standing beside him. “You've been told,” says Kermit the Frog. It’s all Earl needs to say for Max to know he’s telling him to stay away from the investigation.
Max plays coy. “Don't know what you're talking about there, Earl.”
“You jeopardized this investigation by looking after your brother. You could be open to criminal charges. Stay away.”
Max gets defensive, “I never looked after him. I would have turned him in if...”
Earl interrupts, loudly, “But you didn't Max! You didn't! How many people are dead because you held back?” A spattering of meerkat-like heads pop up from behind barriers and desks to see what the yelling is about.
Max is immediately defensive, “Hey, I wasn't to know! We didn't…” he realises half way through talking that he didn't know what he was saying. “I...” he searches for the right sentence, “…did nothing wrong.”
“You have a way with words. You should probably know Barry is currently in his office suffering from some serious inner conflict because the Chief Commissioner heard about your secret and now knows everything. You're being investigated by the Police Conduct Unit.”
Max is shocked, “Are you serious?”
“It’s only going to get worse from here.”
Max feels very small, “Are they really investigating me?”
“But hey, like you said, you did nothing wrong by keeping your suspicions of your brother quiet.” Earl steps in close and speaks just above a whisper, “Your problem, young fella - you’re arrogant. You’re new but you bounce around this place like you’ve been here twenty years. I’ve seen little punks like you come and go. And they go. They all go because they don’t learn. They can’t last here because they can’t learn from mistakes they don’t believe they make. Don’t be one of them. Don’t let your arrogance be your downfall.” Earl leaves the kitchenette where Max turns back to the kettle and considers Earl’s wise and surprisingly generous advice.
As is becoming a theme for Max, he doesn't notice Carl enter and the gentle cough the older detective offers up to announce his appearance beside him also goes unnoticed. Carl waits politely.
It takes a few moments but Max speaks to Carl without giving an indication he has even seen him. “Was Earl telling the truth about the investigation?”
“Yeah, he was,” is Carl's gentle reply. “Surely you didn’t think you’d get through this without one?”
Max remains in an internally reflective trance realising he may now pay dearly for what he honestly thought was the safest route.
Carl tries to help him think of other things, “How’s Illegal Arms?”
This is good, Max is happy to work with this new conversation. It’ll help take his mind off the nightmare. Max replies, “Illegal Arms Dealing. It’s, illegal.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Not so much.”
Carl says as he leaves, “By the way, we'll need to interview you soon too. We have to speak to your family as well.”
Max nods and keeps nodding even after Carl has left.
His phone rings, “Hello?” He says after a quick roll of his eyes because Tahlia has called again.
She sounds upset, “There are people calling and asking about Heath. They're asking if we're helping him kill people.”
“Who are they?”
“I don't know. Journalists. They’re asking if I know anything about it. They're in the building. They've been knocking on the door. I can't go out.”
“They're trespassing, call the cops and keep the door locked. I'll be home in a few hours.”
“Honey...,” Tahlia is cut off as Max ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket.
Sitting at his desk, Max fans himself with a file he should be reading. Whilst doing so, he scans the room to see what others are up to.
He drops the file on his desk, almost sending it sliding off the other side, and stares at h
is hands, at the burns on his palms. They seem more scarred than normal. They stand out more to him now. What were, only a few weeks ago, regrettable, stupid teenage battle wounds that he never really thought about anymore, have come to signify so much more and so many worse things. The death of random strangers, the death of his career, essentially a death in his family. What he delayed by not mentioning to Barry the things that made him think of his brother is now haunting his every step.
Alan interrupts his thought, “What have I told you about taking this job personally?” he says standing over his young colleague.
“This is different. It actually is personal.” Max says without looking up.
“And that's exactly why we're now on a different case.”
“Alan, I don't have to tell you that's crap.” Max now makes eye contact. “You've been in this long enough to know the job comes first. If I honestly believed Heath was part of it I would have chased him down. I would have put him at the top of the board. My first case put someone away for life. Does that mean nothing?”
“No it doesn’t. We’re all here to put the bad guys away. You did your job. Well done. We do that too. You had enough suspicion to agree to consider it. To speak to your parents about where your brother was. And besides, I've been in this long enough to know the job is a distant second or even third place; family comes first. Fair enough, I'm an only child and couldn't begin to imagine what it's like to suspect your brother is a serial killer but I can say I'd honestly be conflicted and it would affect my work. It's our own fault and now we both have to face the anti-corruption investigation. Which brings me to my next point. I should never have let a new detective tell me how we’ll handle an investigation. If you didn’t put your brother on the board, I should have.”
“You’re being investigated too?”
“Yep. But it's not the first time. I'll be honest and tell them everything. I'm sorry if it affects your career but I'm too old to be playing games. I have to think of my family and my retirement.”
Max's phone rings, he glances at the screen and considers cancelling the call. Tahlia can go without speaking to him for five minutes, surely.
“Answer it,” says Alan. Max pauses a moment then accepts the call and puts the phone against his ear as he stares holes in his nosey colleague.
Alan watches and listens as Max speaks. “OK. What’re they doing...? I don't know... ‘cause I'm at work and should be working... I can't think about this now... just call building management... yes, fine. Bye.” Max drops his phone on his desk but before he can complain, Alan says, "Another thing. Take it from me. There will always be another crime to solve. Criminals are being made every day. Don't forget your wife for an arrest."
Max dismisses the claim with a smirk, “Come on. We're fine.”
“I don't believe you because of the way I just heard you speak to her. If my wife spoke to me the way you just spoke to your wife it'd be time for a long chat about what's wrong with our marriage.”
“There was nothing wrong with how I spoke to her. It's just that was the second call today. She can't go five minutes without calling me about something.”
“What did she call about?”
“What? Something, I don't know.”
“Something to call management about?”
“Yes. There are reporters in the building. She can’t leave. I don't know.”
“And what are you doing right now that couldn't wait for you to speak with her? I'm a patient man, you receive a call from your wife, by all means take it, I'll wait.”
“Come on dude.”
“What was the earlier call about?”
“Seriously, are we doing this?” Max is annoyed but Alan answers with just a nod so Max continues. “The other call was about the same thing. They’re calling and knocking on the door asking about Heath. About whether I'm involved or whatever. OK?”
“She feels threatened?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“And you're still here while your wife is at home being harassed?”
“I told her to keep the door locked and call the police.”
Alan leans down close to Max's face, “You are the police. There will always be another crime to solve. All of this is your fault anyway. Look after your wife.”
Max knows he lost. He knows Alan is making sense so tries to change the subject. “Arms dealing. So stupid.”
“It’s illegal isn't it? Listen, your social life is limited so you’ve got time on your hands and you need to get your mind off everything so I'll arrange a night with my wife for you and Tahlia to come over for dinner. Off with you.”
Max grabs his stuff and leaves.
Once back at his apartment he spends the first hour ensuring the building is free of prying reporters by physically restraining them and dragging them out a fire escape to the alley behind his building, dumping them on the footpath. With each of the four reporters he dragged out he made a show of his anger by slamming the steel fire proof door shut with a deafening crash.
Later, from his balcony ten storeys above, he could make out at least a dozen cameramen ready to catch him or his wife as they leave. Tahlia was still upset and angry at him for not coming home sooner as she missed a meeting with a publisher that she had to plead for them to move at the last minute.
Over the next few days Earl and Carl investigate three new murders that quickly reveal themselves to be copycat killings. Heath’s threat to Max that he would keep killing seems to have been empty. A separate task force is set up to chase down these other murders but unlike the ones committed with Heath's fastidious planning and execution the new murders are solved within a week. Although not before news services went from feigning horror that Heath still hadn't been captured after all these weeks, to feigning horror that there are copycat murders inspired by Heath's actions. They scream for answers, or at least, they scream for something that will sell advertising. The Media juggernaut continued its attack on the police by questioning why the three unrelated copycat murderers were able to be caught within a week while Heath continues to avoid capture. Of course the Chief Commissioner takes every opportunity to get his voice and face on TV.
Max works on his cases while pretending not to be following what Earl and Carl are up to. Really all he’s doing is waiting for his brother to call or to hear about a new body - a real one. To Barry though, Max claims to be unsatisfied with his colleagues’ inability to trap Heath despite the head start he says he’s given them. Barry still won’t put him back on the case.