Chapter 6
The homicide detective sucked the air deeply into his lungs, he felt extremely nauseous. Again he inhaled deeply and shook his
head to clear it and to steady his nerve. He had seen many things in his time on the force, but not this. Never anything like this.
He glanced at his partner and saw that beneath Janet�s stoic grim countenance that she was similarly affected. Her pinched,
whitened face was decidedly green about the gills but he took a step further into the room and his partner followed silently on
his heels.
They looked around at what was once an everyday ordinary bedroom, belonging to an ordinary everyday girl, or what was left
of the mortal remains of that ordinary everyday girl. A fanciful person would have said this room tasted of evil. That its
malevolence oozed from the walls of the room�s very pores.
Forensic officers swarmed all over the crime scene, digging for any possible clues. A flash from the camera as the police
photographer recorded the grisly scene for future evidence and reference blinded him momentarily. Blinking his eyes he turned
towards his partner and saw that she was reaching over one of the forensic officer�s shoulders to take a surgical mask from his
bag.
The room reeked of burnt roasted flesh. You could taste it in the back of your throat. Its stench invaded your nostrils and your
clothing and the detective wanted nothing more than to find a shower and stay there for a month to let the running water wash
away the odour and the horror of that blackened corpse that lay bound spread-eagled to the bed. His partner raised an
eyebrow in question and waved a mask in front of his face. He nodded his acceptance and placed it over his nose and mouth.
It was not much protection from the smell, but it was better than nothing. He sighed and took hold of his partner�s arm and
guided her over to the window seat.
Paul Armstrong � Jones leaned his shoulder against the wall and watched thoughtfully as forensics continued on with their work.
�Grim isn�t it Paul?� Janet Brooks wrinkled her nose in distaste beneath the material of her mask as she sat and looked slightly
away from the gruesome sight.
He nodded silently and chewed at his lip. He could not drag his eyes away from that unspeakable vision on the bed. �Why?�
He finally muttered. Ice blue eyes were hooded by sleepy lids as he pondered the situation. �Why this? What was the reason
for the burning.�
He pushed off the wall and made his way over beside the medical examiner. He touched his shoulder lightly � Was the victim
alive when she was set on fire Phil?�
�Jesus Paul�I can�t say. I sure hope to god she wasn�t. I�ll have to see what the autopsy discloses. As of now it�s hard to say.
God help me. I�m getting too old for this job.� He stood up and stretched out his aching back. His eyes were red rimmed and
very tired. Tired of life�s horrors and cruelty. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and grimaced. He shook his head wearily.
�I�d say by the position of the body, the way she was bound and tied that she has been sexually assaulted. But the autopsy will
show that for definite. It�s possible that she was raped, murdered and her body burned to destroy the evidence.� Phil shrugged
his shoulders. �If she has been assaulted, we should still be able to get a DNA sample. I�ll do my best Paul and if it�s any
consolation I�ll go over the body with a fine toothcomb. I�m nearly finished here, then you can take over. Just tell the guys when
you�ve finished so we can remove the body.�
�Sure thing, I appreciate this Phil.� Paul pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them on.
Phil nodded and was about to turn his attention back to the body when he spun around and asked. �Why do you want to know
if she was alive when set alight?�
�I dunno, call it a hunch, I�ve a feeling that it might be important.� Paul mused as he again chewed at his lip, a habit of his when
thinking or concentrating. He turned around and watched Janet Brooks her hands enclosed in latex gloves as she examined a
photograph of the victim.
�Pretty girl.� She said without looking up.
Paul Armstrong- Jones took the photograph from her hands. He studied the pretty blonde haired young woman intently and
tried to get a sense of her. Janet Brooks glanced sideways at him and wondered not for the one hundredth time how his mind
ticked. For Armstrong-Jones had a reputation for unorthodoxy and eccentricity amongst his fellow officers and not many
people could work with him or keep up with his agile intelligence. Surprisingly she could. She sensed he liked her, for she had
partnered him far longer than any other detective in homicide had managed.
Probably because she did not judge the way his mind worked, or how his twisted convoluted thought processes came to a
conclusion that more often than not was correct. Even if a bow drawn at venture, he always managed to put his finger on
something that seemed insignificant but was often the most important clue. He seemed to always value her opinion and although
his personality seemed incredibly intense, he was not so much a loner but content in his own company. She could count on one
hand the times she had visited his apartment and entered his inner sanctum but from what she had seen, it was as individual as
the man himself.
Armstrong -Jones was known to be a lover of the arts and being financially independent, due to a legacy from a wealthy aunt
he could indulge his passion for artworks. He was a frequent visitor to galleries and exhibitions and he was well known as a
collector. In fact as Janet studied him, she came to the same conclusion she always did. Paul Jones was not your average
homicide detective. She often wondered how this cultured man became a policeman.
Silently he stared at the photograph, his ice blue eyes still and unblinking. Abruptly he replaced the picture on the dressing table.
�I don�t like this Janet. I don�t like this at all.� He clucked his tongue and chewed on his lip again. He glanced about the
bedroom impatiently.
�They�re nearly done Paul.� Janet said knowing the reason for his impatience.
He nodded and looked about the room again. The ice blue eyes were keen and curious. �Janet, do you feel anything about this
room?�
Janet looked curiously at him and wondered what flight of fancy his mind was taking now. It excited her when he began thinking
off in tangents. �Feeling?� she queried tilting her head sideways.
�Yes as in a sense of feeling, is this room, happy, sad..?� he laid his hand against the wall.
Janet looked about her and then closed her eyes.
Armstrong �Jones watched as she silently absorbed the room�s vibes. He had already come to his conclusion but he valued her
opinion.
�Evil�� she whispered slowly in a daze. �Today evil visited this room�but not just your everyday run of the mill killer, pure
evil.� She opened her eyes, blinking in surprise. Did she just say those words? �Paul must be rubbing off on her�. She thought
hoping she didn�t sound idiotic.
Janet found Paul looking at her with approval as he gave her one of his rare smiles. �You�ve been working with me too long
Janet.� Paul said wryly as he looked up at the blackened ceiling over the bed. �Yes the room has an overwhelming presence of
evil. I felt it immediately when we first entered it. That�s why I don�t like this Janet. I have the feeling we�ve not seen the last of
this killer. Arh look I think the body is ours now.� He strolled over to where Phil was packing up his equipment. Janet following
and standing beside him.
�She�s all yours now.� Phil told them both. �I hope you get the bastard that did this.�
Paul Armstrong � Jones just stared at the victim deep in thought and made no sign that he had heard the medical examiners
wish. It was time to go to work.
**************************************
Kevin sat at a table in a sunny corner of Charlize�s studio and as he worked on his sheet music he surreptitiously watched his
lover as she with naturally skilled hands worked the canvas in front of her. She never seemed to mind his presence in the studio
as she worked. Often she would chat away to him in her own particular charming manner, about anything and everything that
popped into her head.
Everything about her delighted him. He could sit and watch her at work for hours.
With quick deft strokes she let the pallet knife communicate her heart onto the work in front of her. She took a step backwards
and pursed her lips with her fair head encased in a bandana borrowed from him tilted sideways, she considered the portrait she
was painting. He found himself smiling tenderly at her paint-streaked face and the look of concentration that she habitually wore
while painting. Even when she chatted away she concentrated.
But today her tired eyes were shadowed with dark circles. Like him, she was still experiencing those terrifying nightmares that
haunted their sleeping hours. He had now permanently moved in to her studio apartment. He dreaded to leave her alone, for the
sense of menace that surrounded them during the night was so oppressively frightening that it was almost as bad as the
nightmares itself. But for all the terror that the dreams were inflicting on them both, it had strange effect of bringing them even
closer if possible. It was as if unconsciously they had linked their minds together and presented a united front to face the horror.
But despite their strong bond, Kevin was concerned. He wondered just how much more they could both take. He thought it
was time they both sought help.
But today Charlize painted in silence. Her movements before the canvas were quick and decisive. Every now and again she
would step back and examine the canvas. Kevin leaned back in his chair, his music forgotten and he was openly watching
Charlize now. There was a deep intensity in how she painted today that frightened him. She was almost robotic in her
concentration, as if she painted against her free will. She carelessly tossed aside the palette knife amongst the tubes of oils and
discarded rags beside her, which surprised him. For all her lighthearted carefree ways she was extremely scrupulously tidy and
finicky about her art equipment.
Picking up a brush, she dabbed more paint on its end and with careful controlled strokes she worked, it was as if the brush had
a life of its own. For an hour or two, it was maybe longer for time had no meaning. Kevin sat perfectly still, silently watching
Charlize paint.
He dared not interrupt her trance like state, but it frightened him. This strange mood that Charlize was wrapped up in was so
unlike her. Suddenly she stopped painting and stood deathly still. Her brush hovered hesitantly above the canvas and she
blinked as if waking up from a deep sleep. Her eyes roomed over the canvas in front of her and she took a step backwards
gasping in horror. The brush fell unheeded from her hands. Letting out a sob of shock her paint stained hands cover her face.
Kevin leapt up at once, sending his chair flying across the tiled floor. In two long strides he was beside her. He reached out and
pulled her trembling body close, holding her protectively within his arms. He cradled her fair head against his chest but his eyes
were drawn to the canvas that stood ominously on the easel.
�Jesus�babe.� he whispered hoarsely. His heart was beating rapidly as he in a daze mechanically stroked Charlize�s hair in
comfort. He could not drag his eyes away from the painting.
Charlize sniffed as she brought her tears under control. She squirmed in his arms so she could turn around to look for herself at
the canvas again. In Kevin�s arms she leant back against his chest and he rested his chin on her shoulder. The feel of his goatee
against her cheek was oddly comforting as they stood for a moment in silence, digesting the import and meaning behind the
painting.
�It�s us Charlie.� Kevin said softly in awe.
Charlize nodded her head in agreement. There on the canvas was a portrait of a couple. It was as Kevin said. Her hand
reached out and lingered wonderingly in awe on the canvas despite the tacky paint.
�It�s us but it�s not us.� Charlize whispered as her eyes took in the couple dressed in 17th century clothing. �It�s our dream
couple Kevin.�
�Yes�� was all he could say as he instinctively tightened his arms about Charlize�s waist.
She turned in his arms and cupped his face in her paint stained hands. �Kevin.. don�t think me strange or crazy here. But from
the first moment we met, we have loved one another. I�ve felt like I have known you since time began. Do you think it�s
possible that we�ve been together before, have shared before what we share now, that we were lovers in a past life?�
Kevin�s dark green eyes bored down into Charlize�s paler version. She saw nothing but his deep love for her in the windows of
his soul. He turned his head so he could place a kiss on the fingers that held his face captive. �I don�t think you�re crazy babe.
I�ve been thinking along those lines myself. For why these linked nightmares that we share. It has to be the only explanation.
Maybe our souls are linked together for eternity.� Tightening his arms about her he pulled her even closer against his tall
muscular frame. �And if it�s to be eternity, there is no one else I would rather share forever with. I love you so much Charlie.�
He said simply and it was the heartfelt truth.
Charlize stood on tiptoes whispering her own love against his mouth she reverently placed a kiss on his lips. She reached up
and twirled a lock of hair that had escaped from his ponytail through her fingers.
�Charlie..I think it�s about time we sought help about these dreams.� Kevin�s eyes were serious as he voiced his thoughts. She
nodded her agreement.
Letting go of Kevin�s hair from between her fingers Charlize took hold of his hand and pulled him towards the table where
Kevin�s sheet music was long forgotten. He righted the fallen chair and offered it for Charlize to sit. She rested her chin in her
hands as she waited for Kevin to sit opposite her.
He poured them both a glass of water from the jug that stood beside the sheets of paper scrawled with Kevin�s handwritten
notes.
�So..where do we start?� Charlize asked as she reached across the table and linked her hand in his.
Kevin grinned ruefully. �I rather thought you might have some ideas in that department.� He could not resist teasing her �You�re
supposed to be the artistic soul remember?�
Her lips twitched in amusement as she thought out aloud. �Maybe Jules knows of someone. Jules knows everyone.�
�That�s a possibility..� Kevin pondered her words. But he shivered uneasily as if someone had walked across his grave.
Charlize�s next words confirmed his unease.
�But Jules has been so distracted of late�It�s almost as if he�s not himself. I�ve been so worried that he�s been over doing
things. He seems distant when I�ve phoned him. Maybe we need to take him out to dinner, with just his closest friends. It feels
like ages since I�ve seen him. He always seems too busy these days.�
�It�s probably the renovations to the gallery Charlie, but I think dragging him out to dinner with us would be a good idea,
especially if he�s stressed.�
Charlize let go of Kevin�s hand so she could take a sip of her drink. The glass stopped halfway to her lips and her eyes lit up as
an idea stuck her. �I know..� she breathed excitedly. �Paul�.�
�Paul?� Kevin asked with a bemused look but he was used to the quick changes of direction in the way Charlize�s mind
worked and he knew she�d get to the point soon enough.
�Yes� Kev..Paul. Paul Armstrong- Jones..you know �� Charlize waved glass in her hand around slopping water everywhere.
Kevin calmly rescued his sheet music from the pool of spilt water that Charlize had slopped over the table as the light dawned.
�Oh that Paul.�
Charlize was getting excited and the glass in her hand looked like it could do some more damage so he removed it from her
grasp and placed it back on the table. He took hold of her hand again and with tender amusement alight in his eyes, studied her
flushed, excited face that he adored so much.
�Yes that Paul and stop laughing at me Kevin.� She tugged at his hand playfully as she noticed the smile in his eyes.
Kevin smiled across at her. �I�m not laughing at you Charlie.� He was relieved that for that fleeting moment the shadows were
banished from her eyes. He reached across the table and lightly touched her face. �So babe how can Paul help us?�
�Well not many people know this, but Paul is psychic. He�s known Jules and I since my early art collage days. He keeps it
quiet, well frankly in his job people frown on that sort of thing don�t they? He�s thought to be eccentric enough without his
superiors and fellow police officers knowing about his gift. How about we ask him over for dinner and we can talk to him about
this, maybe he will have some ideas for us?�
�Babe, I�m willing to try anything. We�ve got to get to the bottom of these nightmares before we both run mad. The only thing
keeping me sane now is you.� He stood up and moved to sit on the table in front of her. He picked up her hand in his and
looked across at the portrait resting on the easel. �But I�ve got a feeling that what is happening to us now is somehow linked to
the past. Our past and maybe the history between that couple you painted.�
Charlize eyes followed the direction that Kevin�s had taken. She shivered despite the warmth from the sun-drenched studio.
�Yes I think that you�re right..� she whispered softly.
Kevin pulled her upright and dropped a kiss on a paint-smeared cheek as his arms encircled her waist. All of a sudden he had a
need to hold her in his arms and make love to her slowly, for all eternity if need be. For he could not bear to be without her.
Chapter 7 ~ Coming Soon ~
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