My Brother's Killer
Chapter 37
In the quiet of his apartment, Max has spent the last ten minutes standing in front of his open fridge staring at its contents. He concludes he’s not hungry so closes the door and moves to the lounge where he grabs the TV remote but doesn't feel like watching anything. It seemed like a good idea before he grabbed it. He drops the remote and takes a slow walk down the hall where he sticks his head in Tahlia's home office. Most of her things are still there but she's taken her laptop. He takes a moment to breath in slowly as he soaked up the silence before moving on to the bedroom. The wardrobe is missing her clothes. The ensuite is missing her make-up and the countless beauty products she was always buying. He sits on the bed and pulls out the small revolver he bought from George at the car parts store, from under his pillow. He rests it in his hand.
His phone rings from inside his pocket. He puts the gun back under his pillow and stands to retrieve the phone. He can’t help but sound dejected as he answers it, “Hello?”
“Max Myers, I’m Jennifer Colson with World News dot com. I’m after a response to the claim…” Max hangs up before she can say anymore. Only the second call from the media he’s had to face since this all began.
He sits back down and collects the phone Heath sent him from its home on top of his bedside table. He figured now that Tahlia’s gone he doesn’t have to worry about her playing with it so he just leaves it sitting there as he waits for it to ring. He spins it between his fingers.
The next thing Max is aware of is waking up, lying sideways on his bed. He's still fully dressed and the time on his alarm clock shows he's only been asleep for an hour or so. He must have dropped off without realising while holding his brother’s phone.
He makes his way back to the couch where he places his phone and the one Heath sent him next to each other on the coffee table. He opens his laptop and pulls up a local news website. The banner headline features another one of the mug shots of Max as a stand-in for Heath.
The blurb reads: ‘It has been revealed detectives were aware of the identity of the Southside Killer a week before action was taken to actively pursue him.’
He reads on to see he is identified as the detective who tried to keep his brother’s possible involvement secret. The article even talks about his prior arrest of the murderer Steven Cooper being officially reviewed. He closes the screen of his laptop before being sucked in to reading more. He knows the Chief Commissioner sold him out by giving this information. He picks up both phones and checks the battery on the one Heath sent him while moving outside onto the balcony. The bright midday sun burns down on him as he dials Tahlia. He holds his phone against his ear while absent-mindedly spinning Heath's phone between his fingers.
Tahlia comes on the line. She does her best to remain distant, “Hello?”
Max smiles at the sound of her voice, “Hey baby. I wasn't sure if you'd answer.”
“I did.”
“I want you to come home.”
“Why? Do you even understand why I left?”
“Well. I. Didn't. Remember. Our anniversary.”
“And?”
“Well, and, I was spending too much time at work.”
“Max! Do you understand this or are you just saying it because Alan told you?”
“No, Honey, I know I need to spend more time with you and...” Max feels the phone in his other hand vibrate a second before the ring tone sounds. He looks down at the phone and forgets what he was saying.
“Max?”
“No I'm here. I just…” Max considers answering the ringing phone but Tahlia interrupts, “Is that a phone?”
“No. It is, but…”
“Cancel it!”
“I will but it'll be important…”
“Max! Don't you dare! You put that phone away and talk to me!”
Max hits the cancel button on Heath's phone. “OK, OK, I did. It's just us, OK.”
Tahlia is unimpressed, “I can’t believe you were going to answer it!”
“No I wasn't.” Max knows he's caught out. “I'm sorry.”
“I've got a better idea. Let's leave this until you catch your brother. You care more about that than me.” The phone goes dead in Max's ear.
That call didn't go the way he wanted.
Looking back down at Heath's phone. He holds it out over the edge of the balcony and prepares to let it drop to its end in a million pieces ten floors below. His grip becomes lighter as he lets the phone slip through his fingers. It rings. He tightens his grip on it again, places it against his ear and screams into it, “What the hell are you doing!”
Heath sounds far too jovial for what he's done, “I'm sorry for interrupting your call. It's not personal, it's just part of the game.”
Max is disgusted, “You are a monster! You killed a child!”
“You noticed?”
“This isn't a joke!”
“I’m sorry Tahlia left you.”
Max doesn’t buy it. “No you’re not.”
“Why were you going to drop my phone over the edge?”
Max realises he's being watched and scans everything around him. Ten storeys up - there are not a lot of options. “I'll catch you. I promise, every waking moment, every breath I…” Max is silenced by the sight of his estranged brother standing on a balcony directly opposite him on the other side of the road. At this distance he can’t make out the face on the figure standing there staring at him but he knows exactly who the long haired and bearded man is.
Max thinks he can see his brother’s mouth move as he hears him through the phone, “Good to see you, brother. See, I can do theatrics too.” He takes a deep breath and pauses for effect, “Catch me if you can.”
Heath drops his phone, letting it fall to the floor, turns back inside the apartment and disappears from view.
Max bursts from the glass security door of his building and onto the street outside. He holds his badge in one hand ready to shove it in the face of anyone who tries to get in his way. It took him only a few minutes to descend the fire stairs from his apartment on the tenth floor before sprinting through the foyer and bounding outside. He bounces past a waiting reporter and ignores his questions as he jumps onto the bonnet of a parked car and scans the street for his brother.
Heath simply stands on the other side outside the building he was in waiting for Max to notice him. When they make eye contact Heath takes off and Max is on the move close behind. It's not lost on Max that his brother looks, possibly, fitter than he is, possibly faster too but that doesn't stop him from putting his best into the chase. The adrenaline keeps him going. Catching Heath should repair his reputation not just amongst his peers but also the public now that the media is ruining his name. Most importantly, catching Heath will bring closure and Tahlia can come home - and no more murders, of course.
The bright sun beats down on the brothers as they move with violent passion between cars and pedestrians. Heath is not far ahead and is slowed by a few pedestrians on the footpath. As Max runs down the middle of the road, he makes up ground quickly. Any drivers who get in his way he screams at as they see him in their mirrors barrelling down on them with his shinning police badge forging a path.
Heath looks back and is surprised to see his brother so close behind. He leaps a parked car and is on the road now, like his brother. Free from pedestrians, he picks up his pace. He takes a left turn up another street making his brother cover even more ground to maintain the distance he’s quickly losing. Max knows this chase can't last so he dials his phone, “Alan! I'm chasing Heath! I'm about to lose him!” Sweat is pouring from his brow and soaking into his shirt.
Over the next few streets Heath builds more ground between himself and his brother. He glances over his shoulder every now and then to make sure. His goal isn’t to get caught at this point. After one look over his shoulder he turns back to find his path cut off by a cop car which skids to a halt in front of him. He leaps the bonnet to find the first car is joined by more until he has at
least five police cars following him. Max is still in the chase close behind. Although he’s fading quickly as he struggles to keep his breath and maintain his pace.
Heath ducks down a side alley creating a bottle neck, delaying the cars chasing him. The blaring sirens are now just for show as the drivers are forced to stop and Heath gets his space again. Max leaps over the jammed police cars and continues his pursuit as he shows his badge to anyone who looks his way.
The chase exits the alley and Max loses his brother in the midst of a crowded street just as more cop cars arrive with sirens screaming. Max leaps onto the bonnet of a parked car and scans the crowd again hoping Heath is waiting.
He’s gone.
“Keep going!” He yells at everyone, “He's somewhere!” He has no authority here.
The street now only has half the pedestrians than were populating the area when the police first arrived. The masses are still all there, though they watch from a distance. Max and Alan, Earl and Carl, and endless uniformed cops are gathered street side at the point they lost sight of Heath. Cops head up and down the adjacent streets speaking with shop owners and shoppers about what they witnessed, if anything. Some people volunteer information of no help while others claim to have known nothing of the emergency until being told, just now.
Max, still sweating and sounding like he’s still out of breath, fills his colleagues in on his story and finishes off with, “I almost had him,” just as Barry arrives and says, “Max, have you filled our friends here in on what happened?”
Max is without emotion, “Yes.”
“Good. Go home. You're not working. You'll be contacted if needed.”
Max doesn't offer any protest, turns like a schoolboy being chastised and walks away. Alan calls after him, “Max.” The dejected Max turns back. Alan continues, “He knows where you live.”
Max thinks about this for a moment. He stares off in the distance but doesn't look at anything as his mind races over this realisation. He looks back to his four colleagues who wait for him to say something. “He knows where I live. And that Tahlia left me. He sent me a text message.” Max turns and runs off in the direction of his apartment.
Earl calls out after him, “Wait Max.” Max turns back. “What was he wearing? What did he look like?”
Max smiles without any sense of amusement, “What did he look like?” He points to his own face. “This, but hairier!” He turns and runs on.
The distance to Max's apartment now feels twice as far on the return journey than when he had been chasing his brother in the opposite direction, although, this time he's not running as fast.
Arriving home, he puts the key in the lock to his door as quietly as possible. He turns it and pushes the door open. A relatively modern apartment block, the door opens easily and quietly, however, his trick now will be to close it without it slamming as every door in the building has a gas hinge so residents can’t leave them open. Max glances into his apartment, down the hall and to the side into the kitchen as he works the door closed - all this because he's concerned his brother may have come back to wait for him here. A quick check of each room and wardrobe reveals he is alone. He then goes about checking light fittings and anywhere an electrical device could be hidden.
Heath must have used something planted in the apartment to spy on Max and Tahlia. How else would he have known Tahlia left him? How else would he have known to send Max that text message about ‘brave men having their limits’ right when he was crying under the overwhelming pressure of failure, unless he had been listening? Or watching? How would he have known to follow them to Alan and Irene’s that night unless he heard Max talk to Tahlia about going there for dinner?
An hour after arriving home and conducting his search of the apartment, a small collection of miniature cameras and microphones sits in front of him as he stands over his dining room table. He stands over them with Alan next to him. They haven’t spoken since the older detective took his family into hiding but they’ve no time to discuss that now. Earl and Carl stand to the side as another cop sits at the table and logs each item. Barry enters the room from the hallway having just hung up from a phone call. “So what do we know?” he says to everyone.
Max answers almost as soon as Barry had finished speaking. “He must have come in the last week or so and...” Before Max can continue thinking out loud he’s interrupted by the cop logging the inventory of electronics. No one knows his name, no one asked, but his badge says Constable Jones.
“Actually.” Jones makes sure everyone is listening to him before continuing. “None of these are new.” He gestures a hand over the devices in front of him. “These particular models are all at least, I don’t know, two, maybe three, years old. Which may not mean much but look at the dust. They’ve all been here longer than a week or so.”
Max doesn’t know how to respond.
Barry speaks up for him. “Constable, you’re saying possibly years? Alright. Max, we'll put you and your wife under protective custody. Start packing.”
Max is silenced by the revelation that Heath may have been spying on them for years. He tries to think back to when they must have had an electrician inside. He can’t remember any point when that could have happened. All he can do is repeat Constable Jones. “Two or three years?”
Barry grabs the young detective by the arm. “We’d probably have to do this anyway now that you’re on the news again. People aren’t responding well. Pack your bags.”
Alan stands at the door to Max's room as Max throws clothing from dresser drawers into a bag. “What if Tahlia was here, alone, with him? What if she called an electrician or something and didn’t tell me?”
“Or, she did tell you and you weren’t listening?” says Alan, stone faced.
Max stops packing.
“What am I doing? I'm not hiding. I'm not running from him. If he wants to kill me he can come here and find me.”
Alan isn’t impressed. “Don't be a hero Max. Just walk away, repair your relationship with your wife.”
Max stops what he’s doing and frowns. “You know she left?”
Alan nods, “I could tell just by looking at your wardrobe but she’s kept in touch with Irene. She came to our motel last night for dinner. Use this time to fix things with her. There’s a good team on this. You don’t have to worry about catching your brother.”
Max dumps the bag of clothes upside down on his bed. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Earl appears at the door, “How'd it start?”
Max isn't sure of the specifics of the question.
Earl adds detail, “How did you come to be chasing your brother down the street?”
Max walks past Earl and out of the room. “Come with me.”
He leads Alan, Earl and now Carl to the balcony and once outside he points to the balcony opposite where he saw his brother. “He was standing on that balcony.”
Earl isn't impressed and gives a look that demands more, “Keep going. Join the dots. Finish the story. Stop lying and giving half-truths. Your brother has clearly targeted you all along and despite the fact that you don't currently work for this state’s police force he continues to drag you into the mess that, might I remind you, is your fault. Now tell me the rest.”
To Max's surprise Earl’s voice and temper don't communicate the usual hatred and determination to belittle. It seems an honest, albeit desperate, plea for truth. In a flash Max is reminded how much of this mess is his fault. He shouldn't have played the game. He shouldn't have let his brother manipulate him. At almost every turn he played into his brother’s hands. He's lost the love of his life and he has no one else to blame. He feels Alan's advice a few weeks ago was all too true. Even when this is done and Heath is in jail, there will be another murderer, and another one after that and another one after that. He feels the pressure of the countless mistakes he's made and how they've destroyed his life.
He looks at Alan who steps in very close and speaks as quietly as he can so Earl doesn’t hear, which
isn’t easy considering their height difference. “The phone you showed me in the parking lot with that text. It wasn’t your phone was it?” Max can see a look of understanding on Alan’s face. He knows. Max pulls the phone out of his pocket. The phone his brother sent him. He hands it to Earl, saying, “He calls me on this.”
Earl, ice cold when he asks, “How long have you had this phone?”
Max shrugs.
“Did you have it when he threatened your sister? Did you have it then and not tell us about it?” Earl doesn't even wait for Max to respond. He gives one glance at Alan who shrugs. He takes the phone and walks back inside the apartment heading for the door with Carl following. “We're going across the road.” Before he walks out the door he turns back to Max who has followed. “You'll be coming in for another interview. You will tell us everything that was said in every conversation you had and you will stop lying like a spoilt child. I'll make sure you're charged.” Earl disappears out the door and down the hall toward the lift, the only sound left in the apartment is the gas hinge slowly closing the door. To the crime scene investigators who have been quietly watching and, most definitely to Max, the click of the door latch engaging as it closes, is deafening.
Max turns to Alan who holds a look of utter disappointment on his face. The older detective’s voice is cold, "I'll give you a chance to explain why you would hide that information and why I had to wait for your wife to tell me about it."
Max remains dumbfounded and speechless.
Alan talks over his silence. “After everything that’s happened, this silence is the best you can do?”
Max still has no words and just stands with his mouth open in a pathetic attempt to defend himself.
Alan says, “It’s just one lie after another with you. For a man your age you have a lot of growing up to do,” and then walks out.
Alan looks ten floors down at the busy road below. He stands across from Max’s apartment on the balcony where the young detective saw his brother before their chase through the city. He looks over at Max's apartment and through the window can just make out the remaining investigators clearing the last of the electronic devices Heath had planted. He can see Max watching him from inside the glass sliding door.
Inside Heath’s apartment, Earl moves between the rooms discovering one specific thing. It's a normal apartment for a single man, clean, but with almost no furniture. There's no bed in the master bedroom but there is a cheap foam mattress to one side. There's nothing in the lounge room save for a desk and chair with a few pieces of electrical equipment and a laptop on it along with, of note, a small photo frame. Earl picks it up. It’s a wedding photo. The happy couple with smiling faces looking into the camera are Max and Tahlia. A memento of Heath’s time spent in his brother’s apartment a few days earlier. Heath predicted that taking the photo would go unnoticed, and he was right.
A small handheld plastic dish with a long microphone attached like a mini satellite dish sits resting on an unknown electrical device complete with dials, buttons and a small LCD screen - good for listening to someone standing too far away to hear. Say, on Max’s balcony. The laptop is still powered so Earl spends a moment reading over the files on the screen. There's a folder named ‘Max’ and one named ‘Tahlia’. Earl opens the one named after his foolish colleague and finds a series of subfolders: ‘Work’, ‘Home’, ‘With Friends’, ‘With Family’, and so on, a different folder for each place Max or Tahlia would find themselves on any given day.
Carl has been standing to one side of the room speaking on his phone which he now hangs up and places back in his pocket. “Get this,” he says to Earl as Alan makes his way back inside and closes the sliding door behind him. “This apartment has been leased by the one tenant for three years.”
Earl, still sitting at the laptop, rubs his eyes indicating that he's annoyed. “We need crime scene guys here. Let's start going over this computer.”
Alan, speaks for the first time since entering the building. “What have you found?”
Earl continues searching the computer as he speaks, “Something isn't right. There is folder after folder of video files, audio recordings and photos of Max and his wife. What's Heath getting at if he's killing all these random people but has been following his brother everywhere for what looks like years? There are hundreds of files in just this one folder.”
Carl volunteers the obvious, “Maybe Max is who we should be protecting.”
Alan counters, “Maybe he really does need that protective custody, but why wouldn't his brother have killed him already if he's been so close for so long?”
Earl looks at Alan and says calmly, “Maybe you need to stay close to your friend and find out? Maybe you also need to pull him into line? He won’t have a career for much longer if he keeps this up. You know he’s pulling you down with him.”
Alan is unmoved. “Earl. For someone your age you have the worst people skills this side of someone with undiagnosed autism. I won’t accept advice on my interactions with my colleagues from you of all people.”
To Alan’s surprise Earl doesn’t respond and just puts his eyes back on the laptop. Within minutes the crime scene team from Max’s apartment arrives and collects anything that will fit in an evidence bag. Alan spends the time contemplating his colleague’s fall from grace since he’s not supposed to be on this job anyway.
Earl doesn’t look away from the computer and Carl potters around after doing a coffee run to the café at the base of the building.