Broken Birds Ch. 01

While I was cooking, Samantha and Elana were talking and through this we learned that Elana lived alone and had few friends. She had held down a high powered job running a design consultancy firm until last year, when she had sold up. The night of the murder she had been at a party for an ex-client celebrating a large contract but had left before the end of the night. She had taken a taxi home, but after that she remembered nothing. She felt certain she had been involved in the murder with an unshakeable fervour that rocked Samantha and I to our cores. But that was all it was. There was no evidence, she knew nothing about the motive, the method or even the description of the victim.

This could be the break in the case we needed. In Samantha's opinion Elana was not mad and had no reason to lie, but she couldn't be directly linked to the case from the vague comments and feelings she had. I set off to investigate taking with me a letter, signed by Elana, giving me full authority to access her home. I had wanted her with me, it felt wrong to enter her home to snoop without her there. I still couldn't bring myself to see her as the culprit in my mind. Even though the thought danced through my head.

Her home was a plush expansive apartment on the Southbank. I showed the concierge the letter and my ID badge. After convincing him Elana was OK, I checked if they still had camera footage from that night. I was in luck, the footage was held for up to a year, but we needed a warrant to obtain copies. This was as expected and I sent a message to the chief inspector requesting the warrant to be expedited.

Elana's home was a study in depression. A beautiful well-appointed home, stylishly decorated but it seemed she had been living in just the living room for months. The smell hit me first, rotten food and decay. The smell was old and musty and it seemed that she hadn't opened a window in years. Letters lay around in the hallway unopened dating back at least two months. Then as I got closer to the living room the debris and food cartons overpowered any sense of décor. The food wrappers showing the decline, the oldest being high priced meals from fancy supermarkets, getting cheaper and closer to the home until finally she appeared to have been living on bread and water from the local shop. The sofa she had been living on stank of B.O. sleep and sweat. I called Samantha because I didn't know whether I should tidy up or not. Was this a crime scene?

Samantha's response was brief and to the point. Don't touch anything until Elana was either in the frame or in the clear. We needed all evidence we could get. I went to the PC and using the username and password she had given me I checked her calendar for the date of the incident. As she had advised us earlier it showed the party and we had a lead to chase. We also had the name of the host of the party.

*****

Talking to Sam made Elana feel more human than she had felt in months. She knew that this was a chance for her, but other than knowing she felt responsible for a death, nothing else seemed to fit. Sam's questions led her to more and more gaps in her memories, more missing details but nothing concrete to fill them. She couldn't remember going to the moor at all. Nor could she remember why she had chosen that spot last night. The police had done their best to keep the exact location secret and Elana didn't know any of the local officers. She didn't know David either and could not explain why she felt such a deep connection to him. She bared her soul to Sam and all Sam could do was hope she could help. Hearing from David about the state of Elana's home convinced Sam that Elana had been deep in the grip of a severe depression.

Sam knew depression well, her mother had suffered from chronic depression for most of her life. Elana's case seemed to be classic, slowly rejecting the outside world, Sleeping whole days away and stopping caring about her health and appearance. What she couldn't grasp was had this started before or after the incident or because of the incident on the moor. Elana had lost track of the days while she had confined herself to that room.

*****

My chief inspector, as desperate as me for a break in this case, had rushed a warrant through the magistrates and it was brought to me by four o'clock. Immediately I took it to the concierge who expecting this had already prepared a flash drive with the data from that night and the next morning. The cameras covered almost all of the public areas of the building so there were hours and hours of footage to be trawled through. I took the drive back to the station and after backing the data up I started the gruelling process of sitting through hour after hour of the comings and goings of the elite of our town.

I saw hookers and their pimps visiting elderly men, Pizza delivery, amazon delivery, drug delivery. Break ups and make ups, fighting and fucking, and all the baseness you'd expect in a back alley after midnight by the docks. Finally I spotted Elana coming home at about ten on that night. Dressed in her elegant dress and coat she seemed a far cry from the skinny, broken thing we were looking after. Following this I saw nothing more of her on the cameras. Although confirming this took over two days of slaving at this task. I left the safe house early in the morning and got back late at night. The safe house itself had settled into a strange routine. Samantha was acting as house mother, working with Elana through the days to get her past the depression that threatened to take her life. All the time Samantha never let go of any tiny details, trying to find any chink in the impenetrable wall that was Elana's conviction that she was the killer.

When I was finally convinced that Elana had had no way to leave her apartment that night, other than by flying from her window seven floors up, I chased the lead of the party. The host remembered Elana at the party saying she seemed distant and unhappy while she had been there. The guests had put this down to her no longer running the business and feeling adrift. Apparently another guest had been harassing her that night and had left shortly after Elana had left in the taxi. I had another lead to chase. His name and the company that this unknown creep worked for.

*****

Elana was growing more and more frantic as she spent more time away from David. She kept working with Sam trying to break through the blockage that was keeping her from those memories. As this wore on Elana grew more and more frightened, beginning to fear whatever had caused this barrier in her mind. As her body grew stronger under Sam's nursing, her mind felt at times as strong as it had ever been. Then at others, especially after a long session talking with Sam, she felt that all that was left for her was the madhouse.

Sam was doing her best to comfort her but with her limited knowledge of psychotherapy and psychiatry she began to draw to the conclusion that Elana needed the help of others better trained to deal with this. She was hesitant to raise this with Elana or David for fear it would be taken the wrong way and that she would hurt their relationships. With Elana she felt like a big sister, but with David, well things were a bit more complicated between them. Sam was developing feelings for this strange driven man. He seemed oblivious to this however, but then he seemed oblivious to most emotions. Sam decided that unless something happened she would carry on as they were. No need to rock the boat.

*****

When I got back to the safe house on the third day I could feel the tension as I entered the building. Elana was sat in a chair in the lounge crying softly into her hands. Samantha was clattering and banging around in the kitchen, slamming drawers and cutlery.

"What's going on Samantha?" I asked as I stepped through into the kitchen.

"It's Sam you fucking autistic prick!" She screamed at me. I stepped back from this vicious attack. I was shocked and hurt, Samantha knew I had my condition and coped as best I could, but having thrown in my face like this hit me hard. I had thought she understood but I guess not. I hate confrontation like this so I turned tail and ran away.

Elana looked up as I approached tear tracks staining her face. As I looked I could see much more of the beautiful strong woman I had seen in her photos and on the CCTV.

"What's up Elana?" I did my best to hide my shock and hurt from Samantha's outburst.

"I've gone crazy." She looked at me, her face setting into a firm look of acceptance. "I'm going to the hospital. I need you to take me. I don't think I can do it on my own, I need you by my side."

"Why are you going to hospital? You're not sick are you?"

"I'm crazy, you know that right?"

"We don't know anything!"

"Either I'm a killer or I'm mad. Either way Sam can't help me anymore. I need professional help."

"Is this why Samantha is angry?"

"She agrees with me, but she doesn't think I need to go to hospital. I do though, I can't go on like this."

Again I was brought up short. What had happened? How had things gone so wrong so fast? Samantha hated me. Elana was going to section herself and what about me? I had been sleeping with a potential suspect, in a police safe house, while investigating that same person. This wasn't just immoral but it could be illegal. I had acted without thinking and now I was dragging two people down with me. My head was spinning. I made my decision and stepped back into the kitchen to face Samantha.

"Give me until tomorrow."

"What?" Samantha rounded on me from the sink. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll take Elana to the hospital tomorrow, then I'm going to speak to the chief inspector. I'm going to tell him everything."

"What the hell David, are you trying to threaten me? I haven't done anything wrong here. I can't help her anymore. She needs more than I can do!"

"I'm not threatening you Samantha. I know you've done nothing wrong. I Have. I'm going to report everything to the chief. I can only hope I keep my job."

The argument ran on into the night but my mind was made up. I couldn't trust myself to stay impartial anymore. This case, Elana and Samantha were affecting my judgement. The next morning I took a tearful Elana to the hospital. I sat with her as she requested to be sectioned to get the help she needed. As she was led away she turned back to me and held me again kissing me deeply.

"Thank you for everything."

My meeting with the chief inspector was next, but it didn't go as I imagined. He listened to me. Berated me for my idiocy in not disclosing everything to him and for using the safe house as a hostel for three days. However I wasn't suspended, fired or even put on leave. Instead he offered, firmly, for me to take some compassionate leave and also, firmly, advised that I spend some time with the mental health teams. Apparently I hadn't been coping as well as I thought. The chief inspector promised to investigate the leads from the party, but I was advised that even when I came back I would be off the case. Most likely it would have been closed as an active investigation until any other leads came in. I left the station and headed home. Once through the door the place felt cold, bare, and empty. Until now I hadn't realised how big it was and how little I used. I'd inherited the place from my grandma, living in my old bedroom. I used that room, the kitchen and what had been the parlour. All the other rooms were covered in dust sheets. Never used their doors unopened for years. I wondered again what I would do now. Had I grown too used to human contact? It had only been three days.

*****

Sam went to work that day filled with anger, fear and worry. Ashe had done her best so why was David acting this way? Why was he punishing her? She just couldn't understand him. She'd thought they were getting closer, she cared about him. She thought he had been opening up to her and then he does this! Ruining her career and the case for what? She'd been annoyed it's true but Elana did need more help than she could give. Surely he couldn't hold that against her.

It was late that afternoon that she was called to the chief inspector's office. He smiled as she entered.

"Thank you and congratulations Ms Watkins. I understand you've been looking after DC Suter and Ms Caplan recently."

"Uhm, yes sir." This was not what she was expecting. Why was he thanking her? What was going on?

"I understand this put you into a difficult position that you handled with integrity." Sam couldn't work out what was going on. Hadn't David thrown her under the bus?

"What happened to DC Suter sir?"

"He's taking some holiday time. We understand the stress of the case had burned him out somewhat. Affected some of his decision making."

"Oh, right."

"I can understand if you need some time off as well Samantha. It's pre-approved if you want."

"This isn't a suspension is it sir?"

"No, no, not at all this is some well-earned holiday."

Sam had accepted the holiday and made her decision. She left the police station and headed straight for David's house. She wasn't sure about what she was going to do. She wanted to slap him for worrying her. To hit him for risking his job or hug him for looking out for her. The moment he opened the door she knew what she was going to do.

"Right David, we've both got time off but that doesn't mean I'm not still looking after you."

"Huh, Samantha what's going ..." Sam grabbed him and kissed him hard.

"It's Sam, get it right, now I've told you I'm looking after you so get back inside!"