Flashback (5 page)

“Vanessa, you’re being ridiculous. It’s just a regular government research project.”

“I just don’t think you should be associated with him, Jonathan. Even if it’s not true, the rumours alone could wreck your career. Why don’t you listen to me? Carrington thinks Kovac’s up to his neck in all this.”

“Who’s Carrington?”

“A detective. He’s been tracking Kovac for quite a while. Says he has proof of links between the disappearance of homeless people and children and secret experiments at a place outside of town.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I met him and he told me everything. He’s been assigned to David’s case and thinks there’s a connection.”

“Vanessa, you really shouldn’t talk to people like that.”

“Why not? Oh my God, Jonathan, you know there’s a connection, don’t you? You know what’s happened to David, don’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“Carrington said he suspected you were involved. I can’t believe it! You’re going to keep it all quiet to safeguard your career! Your own son!”

“Now, Vanessa, listen to reason!”

Max awoke with a start. Someone was sitting next to him and Max found himself staring at a face that was all too familiar.

“Don’t say anything, Max, just listen. No one else can see me.”

The boy with the thick mop of black hair was wearing the same black t-shirt and pants as when Max had first seen him. He was almost exactly the same height as Max and on his wrist he wore a very expensive watch.

“Rolex,” said the boy. “A birthday present from my parents. You know who I am, don’t you, Max? Yes, of course you do.”

Max stared into the eyes of David Dexter, paralyzed with fear. The woman in the opposite seat gave Max a curious look, then turned away.

“I don’t have much time,” said David, “so listen carefully. We’ve met before, not just when I spoke to you on the bus or when I tried to talk to you outside the coffee shop.
When I first made contact, you were too young and I only scared you. I knew I had to wait until you were older.
I was your imaginary friend, years ago. You do remember, don’t you?”

With a shudder, Max recalled the incident years ago when his imaginary friend had spoken to him. Max had been terrified and had never mentioned the incident to his dad, repressing the jarring memory ever since. Yet he hadn’t been able to conceal his subsequent nightmares. Max now knew that his encounter with David Dexter had been the starting point for the visits to a series of doctors, which in turn had led to the lengthy sessions with Dr. Hammond.

“Don’t worry, Max, you’re not going crazy. I’m real, or as real as I can be for a dead guy. But you know all this, don’t you? Hey, don’t look so surprised. You’ve been pretty busy finding out about me, so I figured I should know all about you as well. You might know all about the case, but not all the details. Those are still secret, just like Carrington was going to tell you, if he’d lived long enough. It must be hard to make sense of that stuff in his office and from the box at the post office.”

Max clutched the envelope closer to his chest. Glancing at the window, he saw to his horror that David had no reflection.

“When I was about your age, I accidentally uncovered a top-secret scientific project and, as a witness, I was silenced. As you know, my father was a high-ranking politician with ties to the operation. When I disappeared, I was simply listed as missing and the government scrambled to cover its tracks. Even my own father agreed to stay quiet to save his political career. My mother suspected something wasn’t right, but they kept her quiet by saying she was crazy. At first, they put her in an institution for the insane. She’s only been in Belvedere Mansions for the last four years, since they figure she’s no longer a risk. Hopefully she can answer some of your questions.”

The bus lurched as it braked sharply in traffic. As abruptly as he’d appeared, David was gone. Max was still shaken when the bus finally came to a halt. When he stepped onto the sidewalk, Max could hear the music coming from Belvedere Mansions across the road, indicating that the barbeque had started.

AS MAX APPROACHED
Belvedere Mansions, he could see that all the activity was in the gardens at the rear. The building was a large imposing structure, with a covered area at the front for cars, cabs, and ambulances. The large metal gate leading to the rear of Belvedere Mansions was wide open. There were a couple of employees on duty, checking people as they entered and exited. People also seemed to be showing some kind of tickets or passes to the security people before they were allowed through.

Max could see that the building had a small lobby area. It was staffed by a receptionist, a stocky, middle-aged woman with short, light brown hair and red, thick-framed glasses. There was a door in the wall behind the receptionist’s chair, but it wasn’t clear whether that led into the interior of the facility. To one side of the reception desk there was a secure door controlled by a keypad. Max knew he might have trouble getting inside. He also knew it would be next to impossible to ask to see Mrs. Dexter if he wasn’t related to her.

The receptionist was on the phone when Max entered the lobby. As he approached the front desk, he noticed a small poster on the wall by the security door, advertising the family barbeque event.

“So there’s a party today?” he asked the receptionist, as she finished her phone call.

“Yeah,” the woman told him, “We’re expecting a crowd of relatives, plus all the kids and grandkids are off school now. It’s in the gardens at the back, but we’ve got someone on the gate to stop the old folks wandering off. So do you have a relative living here?”

“What?” said Max.

“A relative,” she repeated. “Who are you here to visit?”

“A relative?” said Max. “Oh no, I’m, er, here from my school.”

“Isn’t school out for summer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but it’s like, you know, volunteering,” Max lied. “They like us to visit an old folks place and just keep the people company. You know, the ones with no real visitors, sad really. I did a few before school finished, but they arranged some more to keep us kids busy in the summer. Don’t want us hanging around on street corners and getting into trouble, do they? They set me up with this place and gave me the woman’s name.”

“Really,” the receptionist said, sounding unconvinced, as she peered at him over the top of her glasses. “First I’ve heard about it, but still, I’m pretty new here. What was the name?”

“Dexter,” replied Max, then tried to sound a little more vague. “Vanessa Dexter, I think.”

He pretended to look at where he might have scribbled down the name on Carrington’s envelope.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s take a look. You’ll need one of these passes to get by security.”

She nodded at a collection of plastic cards with bar codes sitting on the desk. Some had already been placed in envelopes for families who had yet to arrive.

The receptionist negotiated a few pages on the computer screen in front of her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I’m still getting used to all the names and everything. Oh, there goes the phone again. Hello, Belvedere Mansions. Thank you, I’ll put you through.”

She turned back to the computer.

“Ah, here we are. What did you say her first name was?”

Before Max could answer, the phone rang again.

“Belvedere Mansions? Yes, I’m sorry, she’s on the phone. Would you like to hold? Oh, really? Well, I guess I could just run down there and tell her you’re waiting. One moment please.”

She turned back to Max.

“Sorry, it sounds like this is pretty urgent. Just a second, I’ll be right back.”

The receptionist removed her headset, stood up from the desk, and hurried through the doorway behind her chair. Max had no idea how long she’d be gone, so he leaned over the desk, grabbed a pass from one of the envelopes and slipped outside.

As he approached the gate, Max pretended to be talking on his cell phone. One of the staff members had just stepped to one side and lit a cigarette, before ambling over to the sidewalk. At the same time, the other employee was busy chatting to some of the visitors. Max quickly had his pass scanned and then mingled with a group of people as they entered the gardens.

Max figured it would be relatively easy to blend in with the other visitors, some of whom had arrived with children, as they visited aged relatives. It was certainly a busy place. Most of the residents were sitting on lawn chairs or at picnic tables enjoying the sunshine and the band playing under the canopy. Beside the barbeques, there were long tables filled with plates of food, as well as several punch bowls. Max had no idea what Vanessa Dexter looked like, but then he heard a voice.

“Okay, Vanessa, I’ll just leave you here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Max spotted an old woman sitting alone at a table in the shade of a broad canopied tree. He cautiously made his way over to the table. There was only one way to find out if this was the right person.

As he drew closer, Max saw that the woman’s hair was cut quite short and was dull gray in colour. The woman looked somewhat older than the age Max calculated Vanessa Dexter would be by now. Yet Max saw something familiar in the woman’s face. He was convinced that he recognized her from the strange visions he’d experienced about the Christmas presents.

The woman simply stared straight ahead when Max approached and sat down in the chair beside her.

“Hello,” he said.

The woman slowly turned to look at him, a vacant expression on her face. Her eyes were almost glassy behind her thin, wire framed glasses, but she said nothing.

“I’m here to visit you.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” remarked an old woman, who was just walking by. “She never gets many visitors, not since her husband died.”

“How are you today?” Max asked the woman in the chair.

“You remind me of my son,” she said, with a sigh, ignoring his question.

“Really?” said Max.

“Yes, he’s about your age,” the woman said, then added bitterly, “but he hasn’t ever visited me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” said Max. “Maybe David is just busy.”

“I never told you my son’s name was David,” said the woman.

Her tone was suddenly stern.

“You didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t,” insisted the woman. “Who are you?”

The woman’s expression had now completely changed. Her eyes suddenly appeared much brighter. She unexpectedly reached over and grabbed Max tightly by the wrist. He dropped the envelope, the news clipping about Kovac slipping out onto the grass.

“Carrington? And Kovac?”

She gasped, staring in apparent shock at the envelope.

“How do you know Carrington?” she demanded. “Who the hell are you?”

“Please, Mrs. Dexter, relax,” said Max. “I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“About John Carrington?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Only if you want to,” replied Max, a little surprised at her answer. “I’ll leave anytime you want.”

“I saw the piece in the paper about him being found dead in the park,” she told him. “One of the women here is obsessed with obituaries. She told me about it.”

“Yes, I talked to him just before that.”

“How do you know him anyway?”

“I was investigating the David Dexter case,” replied Max, “at the library, for a school project. He was on the next computer and we got talking, but there’s so much more I’d like to know.”

“So you thought you’d come and talk to me, did you?” she said, as she drained her cup.

Max could hardy believe she was being so forthcoming. However, he kept one eye on the rest of the gardens for the staff, just in case Mrs. Dexter changed her mind.

“Ah well, I don’t suppose it’s going to do any harm now, is it?”

She sounded a little drunk, to be honest, Max thought. There were several empty plastic cups on the table, so he figured she might have been sampling the punch.

“Can you get me another drink?” she asked him. “What did you say your name was?”

“Max.”

“Okay, Max,” she said. “Can you get me some more punch please?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Max went over to the table and ladled out some punch. He kept an eye on Mrs. Dexter, but she didn’t seem to be interested in alerting anyone to his presence. Maybe she’d decided to unburden her conscience? She could also be completely out of it, although Max got the impression that Mrs. Dexter was of very sound mind.

“So,” Mrs. Dexter said, as Max sat back down at the table, “what is it you’d like to know?”

“I’m just curious about a few things,” Max replied. “I know your son disappeared and was later found dead. I’m sorry if that’s upsetting for you.”

“It still is, to this day,” she sighed, “but I’m okay to talk about it now. I usually pretend that I think he’s still alive if anyone here asks me about it. If they think I’m crazy, they leave me alone.”