Deteached E-Book

Meinema Eduard

• Herausgeber: Eduard Meinema
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

During an investigation into a teacher's suicide, detectives Aubrey Taylor and Keith Balon are confronted with a second death. Another teacher who committed suicide under almost identical circumstances. The question is whether this is a coincidence. And, worse, is it suicide...?
Unfortunately, it doesn't end with these two victims ... The small town of Riswick is quickly startled by a series of gruesome murders. The two bickering detectives, each with their own private concerns, are confronted with bizarre situations that raise more questions than answers and drive the police duo to despair.
It started with suicide. There is no telling where and when it will end...

Leseprobe

Eduard Meinema

Deteached

Copyright © 2019 by Eduard Meinema

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com

Contents

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About the Author

1

Jamie Barnes placed his bike in the bike rack of the Grenfill High School. He took a heavy chain, encased in transparent red plastic, with a large padlock attached to it to secure his bike to the rack.

“Yo, Ronny, what’s up?” he greeted his best friend Ronny Sarasani who just arrived. Together they sauntered to the schoolyard.

“Don’t feel like it today,” Jamie sighed.

“Say that man,” said Ronny. “A fuckin’ long day today…”

Both boys looked up in surprise when they heard the other students screaming hysterically. The schoolyard was always filled with screaming teenagers, but this morning people screamed very loud and panicky.

“Hey! Look! Up there! It is Pythagoras,” one of the students cried.

Jamie and Ronny stared at the roof of the school. Jake Moncha, the math teacher, nicknamed Pythagoras, stood on the edge of the three-story building. No teacher without a nickname. Not even the director, alias The Tank.

“What the fuck man. What’s he doing now? “Jamie shouted in surprise.

“Jesus! He is going to jump!” one of the girls screamed.

Unsure, Jake Moncha balanced on the edge of the school roof; high above the ever-growing group of students. A collective “Ooohh! No!” sounded muffled across the school yard while the math teacher leaned dangerously far ahead; it seemed as if he was setting the correct angle of his fall. To the reassurance of everyone on the square, he staggered back quickly. Just for a short moment. Then he surprised everyone and unexpectedly fell down.

During his short free fall, the students flew apart in a panic. Away from the square; away from the place where, just a few seconds later, Pythagoras crashed. From the crushed skull of the lifeless body, blood slowly seeped across the schoolyard.

Girls screamed.

Boys too.

The girls were crying while the boys were trying cramped but unsuccessfully to hold back their tears. Teachers ran outside in a panic. Called 911 and tried, almost gagging, to do something for their unfortunate colleague. A few teachers tried to calm students down, in which they hardly succeeded because they were just as upset as their students.

From a distance the students saw how The Tank, busy in consultation with his smartphone, rushed outside. The impressively coarse school principal pushed the teachers roughly aside. “Clear the space!” he shouted like an old army commander. Nobody knew if he had actually been in the army. Simply because nobody ever dared to ask him. But his hefty stature inspired everyone in awe. Pupils and teachers. Meekly everyone stepped aside. The Tank, actually called Philip Norman, knelt down beside Jake Moncha; felt the pulse of the blood covered body and immediately came to his conclusion. He snapped his fingers: “Redmond, Alex; get a plaid from the concierge. Cover him up.” Redmond Norris, geography teacher, and gym teacher Alex Thomas rushed back inside. In the meantime, Philip Norman continued talking on his smartphone: “Sorry, here I am again,” he continued calmly to the operator of 911. “He’s dead,” he added almost emotionless.

A few minutes later the police arrived at the now abandoned school yard. A little later, detectives Aubrey Taylor and Keith Balon greeted their colleagues from the forensic team and then reported to director Philip Norman.

After The Tank briefly informed them in his room about the situation and the tragic incident, they made a tour around the schoolyard.

“Suicide?” said Balon.

Aubrey looked at her younger colleague. “Is that a question or an observation?”

Balon grinned: “A case of doubt.”

“My idea,” she confirmed Keith’s suspicion. “Look around you. What do you see?”

“Um … an empty yard?”

“Exactly. A bit strange for a school with intrusive teenagers, don’t you think? No curious students. Nobody trying to make a vlog. Everyone is neat and organized in the gym.”

“Maybe the director has arranged things quickly and well.”

“If you think so, Keith, why do you doubt about suicide?”

“Because I’ve never met a school director who arranged everything so quickly and especially so confidently after such a dramatic accident. It was as if he was not even impressed by the death of his colleague.”

“Exactly!” said Aubrey, looking dubiously through the windows of the gym at the students there. She was surprised at the behavior of the students. Everyone was waiting quietly in the gallery. “It all looks like a perfectly organized show.”

“What are we going to do?”

Aubrey Taylor glanced across the schoolyard. “We are waiting for the forensic team to complete the investigation here. I want to check some data at the office.”

“Like what?”

“Like, who was Jack Moncha…”

“And… who is Philip Norman?” Balon added.

“Exactly!” said Taylor, who had already turned her attention to something else. She nudged Balon and pointed to two students in the bicycle shed. “Those two apparently don’t care about the regime at this school.”

“Anarchism starts early,” Balon joked.

“Hey! You there!” Taylor shouted at the two dissident students; the only ones who did not want to wait in the gym.

“I told you to hurry!” Jamie hissed at his friend.

Detective Aubrey Taylor grabbed Ronny Sarasani’s bike by the handlebars and blocked him and Jamie Barnes, preventing them to run off. She held up her badge like a sort of automatism. “Why aren’t you with the other students in the gym?”

Jamie hardly looked interested at her ID while Ronny peered nervously over her shoulder. When Aubrey looked around, she saw just how The Tank walked back into the school.

“Evil conscience?” Balon grinned.

Ronny shook his head in the negative.

“Well?” Aubrey repeated. “Shouldn’t you be in the gym?”

Both boys shrugged indifferently. “That meeting is for wimps,” said Jamie. “Psychological help for everyone who is struggling with what Pythagoras has done.”

“Pythagoras?” Balon asked.

“Yes. That is Mr. Moncha’s nickname; the math teacher. The man who just… you know…,” said Jamie, nodding his head toward the covered, lifeless body of Moncha.

“Did you see it? Were you here when it happened?” Aubrey asked.

They both nodded affirmatively.

“But you don’t feel the need to talk about it? Counseling?” she said disbelieving. “Don’t you want to talk to someone about it?”

“Oh well,” said Ronny. “You know, things just happen…”

Aubrey Taylor frowned. “You’re kidding me. Sure I know things happen at a school, but those things usually are very different from what has happened here now. Don’t you think so?”

Ronny shrugged. “I don’t know,” he murmured uninterested.

Taylor and Balon looked at him investigatively.

“You don’t know,” Balon repeated, surprised. “What were you actually planning to do?”

“Go home. What should we stay for? All lessons are cancelled today,” Jamie replied impatiently. “Can we go now?”

Aubrey Taylor involuntarily pulled the corner of her mouth. “If the school management allows it,” she said. “And if you really don’t want to talk to a psychologist, I won’t keep you here.” She released Ronny’s wheel and stepped aside. “I just want to know your names.”

The boys cycled away quickly. As they cycled away, they called their name over their shoulder.

“Barnes and Sarasani,” Balon repeated as he wrote down their names in his smartphone. “Quite a couple…”

“Hmm,” Taylor murmured. “I honestly can’t tell what I find more weird. Their behavior or that of the students in the gym.”

As soon as the boys passed the corner of the school building with their bikes, they were shocked by a man who suddenly walked onto the road and blocked them their way.

“Stop!” shouted the man in the dark blue tracksuit.

Jamie wanted to continue but Ronny stopped. Gently cursing, Jamie turned around and drove back to his friend and Alex Thomas, the gym teacher who stopped them.

“What are we up to, gentlemen?” Thomas surly asked.

“We’re going home,” Jamie said briefly and started to continue cycling.

Thomas’s muscular hand stopped Jamie. His fingers pinched Jamie’s upper arm.

“Ouch! Stop it man! ”

“Not so cheeky Barnes!” Alex Thomas said irritably. He squeezed a little less hard, but only let Jamie go when the car with the two detectives passed. Detective Taylor and the gym teacher looked at each other penetratingly. Jamie and Ronny watched fascinated how the two performed a kind of staredown. Neither of them gave up until the distance became too big and there was no more point in staring. Thomas turned back to the two boys. “What did they want from you?”

“Nothing,” said Jamie.

“The same thing you wanted to know. What we were going to do,” Ronny muttered.

Thomas stared at the two in silence. “Nothing else? Nothing about the fall of Moncha?” he finally asked.

“Myeah … whether we saw it happen,” said Ronny. “And why we did not go to the gym.”

“And? What did you say?”

“That we are no wimps like all the rest,“Jamie grinned.

Thomas could not suppress a faint smile. “Okay… Okay, go home guys,”

said the gym teacher. “Tomorrow there will be school as always!” he called after the boys.

2

The next morning most of the students quickly walked on from the school bus into the school. The spot on the schoolyard where Jake Moncha, aka Pythagoras, crashed the day before was released by the police. Only a vague drawing that indicated the contours of the body was left behind; an unintended monument, strictly guarded by Redmond Norris and Alex Thomas. The individual who dared to take a close look at the crime scene was immediately dismissed. In the meantime, the two teachers also closely and suspiciously watched the car parked at the schoolyard entrance.

Before he got off his bike, Ronny Sarasani touched his friend Jamie Barnes: “Those two police officers are back,” he muttered nervously.

Undisturbed Jamie grabbed his chain with padlock and fastened his bike securely. The bicycle parking was almost empty. Only a single student came to Grenfill High by bike. “And they are not the only ones,” he confirmed to his best friend, nodding his head toward a second car parked further down the street.

Ronny looked nervously at the three men in the second car; a bright red Jeep Cherokee. “Do… do you think the police also keeps an eye on them?”

“Not for what I can see right now Ron. I think those detectives are more interested in our teachers. The coach and the cop are doing another staredown…”

While Ron was looking at the two supervising teachers, Redmond Norris pointed with his hand to the entrance of the school.

“Yeah, yeah,” sighed Ronny. “We already got you…”

Before they entered school, Ronny timidly looked back. Nervously, he noticed that the car with the three men was still there. He was shocked when he had eye contact with the driver of the car. Only when he slowly shifted his gaze to the police car did he notice that detective Keith Balon had been watching him all the time. Quickly he followed his friend and ran into the hallway. “Did you see that?” he called to Jamie.

“What?” Jamie asked absent minded.

Ronny looked at him not understanding what he meant. Until he saw why his friend reacted so lukewarm. “Oh, she, again…,” he sighed as soon as he noticed that Jamie only had eyes for the blonde Cheryanne Keegan.

Unobtrusive and without turning around, Balon looked in the rearview mirror. “Taylor,” he said almost in a whisper.

“I saw them,” Aubrey Taylor answered before her colleague could finish his question.

“Hmm. Pretty amazing,” Balon concluded. “I would swear you were watching that gym teacher.”

“I have two eyes Balon.”

“Yes, so do I, but …”

“…but you are a man. You can’t do two things at the same time,” she said firmly.

“I wanted to say that I am not a chameleon; I can’t move my eyes independently.”

“Oh. I thought chameleons only changed their color. Like you do when you are secretly staring at me…”

Balon coughed with a red head, while he quickly changed the subject: “Hmm. What do you think of the men behind us?”

“Why don’t you go and meet them Keith? Maybe there’s a nice friend in there for you,” Aubrey laughed.

Annoyed, Balon opened the door of the black SUV. Just before he got out, he heard the heavy sound of the starting Jeep. Full throttle, the red Jeep drove away and almost hit his opened door. Balon stumbled back into the car. He looked doubtful at his female colleague. “Should we go after them?” he asked.

“If you had done so immediately, it might have been useful. I think they are already in the Bahamas by now,” Aubrey responded fiercely. “Have you seen the license plate?”

Ashamed, Balon closed his door. “No. Yes, Jesus. I was shocked…”

“You could have fooled me,” said Aubrey diminishing.

“But I don’t think it was a coincidence,” said Balon.

“Really? You guess so? Didn’t you think they might be loving parents? Worried dads who came to see if their children arrived safely at school?”

“Jesus Taylor, what’s wrong with you this morning? Got out of bed the wrong way or what?”

Aubrey gave her colleague a dirty look. “Gosh. I’m surprised that you don’t ask if I am having my period…”

Balon briefly looked at her in silence. Then he grinned: “No… no, I have your cycle in my smartphone. Then I know where I stand. Most of the times that is…”

Taylor couldn’t suppress a faint smile. “Sorry Balon. Had some shit with my ex last night.”

“Well; glad I’m not your ex then.”

“Maybe a good reason to never become my ex,” Aubrey said before resolutely getting out of the car. “Come on; we are going to ask some more questions.”

Compliant, Balon ran after her. “You want to know if we have done our homework properly?” he joked.

Just before they entered the schoolyard, Taylor turned around and looked intently at him; her head crooked and one eye closed. “Don’t you forget something?” she asked sarcastically.

Keith Balon looked at her desperately. The nod of her crooked head was enough to understand what she meant. He quickly aimed his remote control at the car and activated the lock.

Through the large window of his boardroom Philip Norman saw the detectives coming. Uncomfortably, The Tank held the door for them. “Good morning detectives. What can I do for you?” he asked politely.

“We have a few more questions,” Aubrey Taylor began. “About Jake Moncha.”

Without offering his guests a seat, The Tank sat down with a sigh. “Yes, I thought so.”

Keith Balon looked questioningly at him. “How so? Did you expect us?”

Director Philip Norman uncomfortably scrambled his chin. “Well… Our Jake was not really a…” Shocked by his own, too fast and too impulsive reaction, Norman stopped abruptly. “What do you actually want to know?”

Aubrey Taylor held her head crooked and looked at him questioningly. “What did you want to say?”

“Um… He was a… special colleague,” Norman quickly made up. “Unfortunately I don’t have much time for you; so if you ask your questions, the sooner we can continue.”

“Continue with what?” Balon tried in vain.

Philip Norman sighed again before continuing: “Listen. I can tell that you have done your homework. And that a file has emerged that raises more questions than answers. But… Let me put it this way… Moncha was a great teacher. And for me that’s all that matters.”

Mocked by his answer, Taylor and Balon looked at him.

“You can’t be serious!” Balon responded fiercely. “Do you want to tell us that you knew that there is a Moncha file; that you knew what incriminating material that file contains? And yet you still have your hand over him? Unbelievable. Do you hear that Taylor? That is… God damn it. That is unbelievable.”

Aubrey Taylor immediately noticed that Balon’s reaction briefly upset Philip Norman. Something that almost never happened to him; but now his confidence was out of balance. Taylor’s female intuition proved once again infallible and was worth gold at the moment. “Why didn’t you inform the Parent Council about Mr. Moncha’s background?” she responded alertly.

“Who says I didn’t do that?” Norman bluffed.

“You keep out information Mr. Norman. While you know very well that Moncha’s behavior can have major consequences for the students. Or maybe it has already had consequences?” Again she looked at him, her head a little crooked, questioning. “If the Parent Council were aware of Moncha’s past, they would never have agreed to Moncha’s appointment. Or not?” She gave The Tank a penetrating look and felt that he was not yet completely in control of himself. “So Mr. Norman. Why did you not inform the Parent Council about Moncha’s former ‘activities’? Or rather, what was your interest in withholding the incriminating information in Jake Moncha’s file?”

The hefty Philip Norman looked somewhat doubtful at the tiny, punchy thing standing in front of his desk. He was one and a half times her height, seemed at least twice as wide, and yet this Goliath was about to bow to the female David. Taylor felt a confession on his lips. A confession that, sooner than expected, would clarify whether Moncha’s death was actually an accident or, if she did not want to exclude Keith and her own feelings, perhaps a murder.

Full of admiration for her method, the younger Keith Balon gave his colleague a wink.

“I… er,” stammered Philip Norman searching for words that could justify why he had withheld information.

The longer the answer remained, the more impatient Aubrey Taylor became. Come on, she thought. Don’t think too long about it Norman, just tell us what you know.

“Well,” said Norman. “Jake Moncha has…”

At that moment the three people in the boardroom were disturbed by someone who knocked on the door.

No, not now! Aubrey thought. Get lost!

“Yes?” Philip Norman asked, using the interruption to resume himself.

A girl carefully opened the door a little and peeked into the room through the narrow crack. “Am I disturbing?” Cheryanne Keegan asked. “I had an appointment with you?”

The Tank felt master of the situation again. Scrolled through his online agenda for the show and then kindly laughed: “Yes, of course. Come on in, the detectives just wanted to leave. ”He looked almost triumphantly at the two disappointed agents. “Would you excuse me? Of course I will gladly make an appointment to continue our conversation.”

Balon wanted to respond, but Taylor was ahead of him: “Of course Mr. Norman. We will come back to you later.”

Why? Balon gestured to Taylor.

Aubrey Taylor said nothing; she was the first to leave the boardroom without looking if Keith Balon followed her. It was only on the schoolyard that she explained to him: “He almost confessed. If that girl didn’t come…”

“Yes, that’s why. We should have continued Taylor. Then we could have closed this case today.”

“It made no sense Keith. The moment had already passed. He is hiding something and he is not going to tell us now.”

“It is unbelievable. How can it be that such a man supports a bastard like Moncha? I can’t understand.”

Grumbling the detectives left the schoolyard, observed from a distance by the two teachers who guarded Moncha’s crime scene against curious students. “What do you think, Redmond?” Alex Thomas asked his colleague, Redmond Norris.

Norris followed the two detectives as unobtrusively as possible. From the corner of his eye, he checked whether someone was watching them from the boardroom window. “They clearly didn’t get any answers from The Tank,” he grinned.

“Will they know?”

“Know what?”

“About Jake.”

Norris shrugged. “They have undoubtedly read Jake’s file; but then again…”

“You think the file was not complete…”

“I don’t think so; I know it for sure.” Norris looked at his colleague, who also had been one of his best friends for years: “Come on Lex; that old dictator up there was drilled by the best instructors in the world. He really makes no mistake. That file that the detectives read? That contains no more than half the truth. But most important… the most incriminating information is undoubtedly professionally kept out of the file.”

Alex Thomas nodded in agreement. He followed the detectives without any restraint until they got into their car.

As soon as Aubrey Taylor was back in the car, she involuntarily looked at the window of the boardroom. She felt she was being watched, but saw no one by the window. No one was watching them. And yet… Her eyes wandered. To the schoolyard. Again she looked straight into the coach’s eyes. They looked at each other briefly. So anyway…, Taylor thought. My premonition was correct again. She tapped Balon on his knee. “Just move Keith. We’re going to visit the widow of Moncha.”

Keith Balon, unaware of Taylor’s premonition, typed in Moncha’s data on the on-board computer. Within a few seconds, the address and route of Moncha’s last residence appeared. “I still think he’s an asshole,” he complained.

“Hmm,” Taylor murmured. She still looked at Alex Thomas, keeping her head crooked. “Yes, I agree. Just drive. We’ll be back later today. When the lessons are all done.”

As soon as the car with the two detectives drove away, Redmond Norris tapped the coach on his shoulders. “Will you be a careful Lex? No matter how handsome that little lady may be, she’s not really material for a ‘one night stand’, is she?”

Alex Thomas glanced at his friend. “Hopefully you know me better. Right?”

“With you I never know for sure,” sighed Norris. “But we can’t use any extra attention now, Lex. Certainly not from the police.”

“Okay,” said Alex. He looked at his watch, then looked again to see if the abandoned schoolyard was actually empty and said: “Sign out then? Everyone is in class now.” They

walked shoulder to shoulder into the school building, on their way to the boardroom where they reported to The Tank.

3

“Jesus man, at least say hello or something. If you just keep staring at her, she will think you’re some kind of lunatic,” said Ronny.

“Ssst,” Jamie Barnes hissed. “She’ll hear you man!”

“Well? Is that not the intention then? That she will notice you somehow? If you wait any longer, you can visit her in the retirement home…”

“Shut up Ron!”Jamie sneered.

“Okay, then you figure it out all on your own,” Ronny Sarasani replied insulted. “I hope you get to the gate on time? Or do I have to do everything on my own?” He became restless with the idea of continuing without Jamie. “They will never accept it Jay. You have to come.”

“I’ll be right there…,” said Jamie, still staring at the blonde Cherryanne.

Ronny insultedly threw his bag over his shoulder and walked away; out of the canteen.

As soon as his friend left, Jamie stood up; gathered all his courage and went to the table with the girls. “Hi Cherryanne!” he said, almost tough.

The blond girl looked questioningly at him while the other girls at the table giggled at her and Jamie. “Hi,” she said coldly, simultaneously taking in the reaction of her friends.

“I missed you in class this morning.”

The girls giggled louder, making Jamie even more uncertain.

“Then you didn’t pay much attention during class,” Cherryanne replied adrem.

Jamie hesitated for a moment. “You were at school. I saw you walking in the hallway; before the lessons started.”

“Woeee,” the girls cried in unison.

“If you need someone to hold your hand, you have to be nice to your boyfriend. If you are fast, you can still catch up. He just left offended,” Cherryanne snapped.

“Yes,” the other girls cried who were now going to get involved in the conversation without being asked, “go after your gay boyfriend!”

Feeling uncertain Jamie looked at the girls one by one. Finally he looked, almost helpless, at Cherryanne. She offered him no help; instead, she turned her face away and giggled with her friends.

Jamie walked away disappointed. On his way to the exit of the canteen, he furiously knocked a stack of trays off the table. Damn! They thought he was gay. Or… well, at least Ron… Shit! If he still wanted to have a chance, if he wanted to impress Cherryanne, he would have to dump his best friend. His best friend who he was supposed to meet at the gate real soon.

* * *

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Aubrey Taylor asked her younger colleague.

“It says so right here, doesn’t it?” Keith Balon said, insulted, pointing at the on-board computer.

Aubrey lowered herself further into her chair and looked up at the heavily neglected apartment complex. “I can’t imagine Moncha living here.”

“Lived…,” Balon corrected her.

“That his widow lives here…” Aubrey said to have the last word.

Keith Balon sighed, looking at the ceiling of the black SUV. “Ok boss. Are we still going for coffee with the widow? Or are we going to sit here to see how fast our car is being stripped?”

“Well. I would almost like to ask for reinforcement,” Aubrey grinned. “What a shabby neighborhood.” Just to be sure she quickly looked at the on-board computer. Check - check - double check. “Okay Balon, we’re going for it!” She resolutely got out of the SUV; without waiting for Balon, she walked into the filthy hall. On the nameplates, she checked again whether they had the correct address.

“Don’t say that I was right, Taylor,” Keith complained.

Aubrey Taylor said nothing. She only looked at him. Her head crooked. Her eyebrow slowly, threateningly raising.

Keith Balon felt caught; held his car keys above his head and locked the SUV from the hall. “I’m not afraid to say you’re right,” he tried to get away with a joke.

“You were the one who didn’t dare to leave the car alone; afraid the car would be stripped.”

Balon gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry…”

Taylor shrugged. “You will never learn…,” she grumbled as she entered the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors opened again, Taylor and Balon found themselves in a different world. The short corridor, which led to eight doors, was neatly tidy, the walls tightly painted; even all the lights were on. The only thing that didn’t seem to be right was the open door at the end of the corridor.