This is the 56th Instalment in the series detailing the life and times of Detective Grade Four Joseph Lind of the NSW Police Force Murder Squad.
Every one of us has a breaking point where we step over the threshold into uncontrollable actions and hurtful talk. All of us have a different point where this may occur and there are those who, while in that terrible mental state, do not take out their uncontrollable anger and built up emotions on another person … but there are those who do. …
Excerpt from Breaking Point:
I stood, my knees telling me that sitting on my haunches for long periods of time was not a good idea at my age. I stood awkwardly to walk gingerly and stiff-legged out of the ‘bio-tent’ set up quickly over the body to curtail the sticky-beaks on the levels of the residential tower leaning from their Balconies above the terrible scene. I bent my back to look up at the side of the tower building, one of many that had risen at break-neck speed in this Suburb. Now they were saying it may not have been a good idea to approve so many of these high-rise dwellings, twenty, thirty and forty storeys tall. The infrastructure to cater for this mass migration into an undeveloped suburb not keeping up with the approved multi-storey developments. A new train line into the City under the Harbour to Chatswood and on to Castle Hill was under construction but was years away before completion.
Why it was worth mentioning, I did not know as it had no effect on my life and daily commute as I resided on the north side of the Harbour! And my Office was in the heart of the Parramatta CBD…another area where infrastructure was not keeping up with the Office and residential towers now under construction in the area and around its perimeter.
They keep on making the same mistakes, usually in competition over the mighty dollar; not listening to or watching other areas of Sydney that were making the same bloody mistakes…what are these Town Planners? Brain dead?
“What floor?” I asked one of the Forensic Trace Officers as I again peered up the side of the building. I could pick out a tiny figure being held out from a balcony…on what floor I could not determine.
“The eighteenth…”
I nodded my head.
“That’ll do it every time…I couldn’t stand watching the ground come up to me so bloody fast…yer’d think some-one would have worked out a braking system to soften the sudden stop…it would have to be worth a motza! You know, sold to every possible suicide on the off-chance they changed their minds halfway down…”
My partner of some ten years looked up at me through the open tent side; she still on her haunches. Shook her head at my attempt at levity muttering under her breath something about a parachute …it was obvious she would not be able to walk for some time if she stays on her haunches for much longer. I told her so to be given the one-finger salute and a shake of the head conveying that I was a lost cause to her way of thinking.
Shelley was pregnant, letting me know that morning before we were called out.
I was really happy for her…I think.
Her partner Brin and she had been wanting it to occur for some time now…trying their hardest to have that little swimmer meet up with a suitable egg. Maybe they should try Tinder I thought…you know, that Social Media site to get that perfect match. They should start a data base for hopeful eggs and potential ‘swimmers! I was not game enough to speak my thoughts for fear of a Police issue Glock jammed up my nose. Then again, I had heard both good and bad of the web-site…could be worth a try. No!? I guess not going on the expression of Shelley, somewhat cool on the idea. They, the experts called Gynaecologists, or Shelley’s choice of Doctor was starting to think that the eggs were in short supply…or those little swimmers not of Olympic class!
This was their fifth or sixth pregnancy…
I reckon the breach had been made and she will fall again straight after the birth of this little one, but not being a Gynaecologist, I couldn’t guarantee it for them.
I guess I will be looking for a new partner in three or four-months’ time. I was not looking forward to that, in fact I dreaded the task. One hell of a gamble getting another partner of the same calibre as my first partner Marge Hendricks and then to be so lucky to snare Shelley here of a similar vein…I couldn’t expect another stroke of luck like that.
My partner’s conundrum replaced by my anxiety on a suitable partner being found…how selfish is that? Especially when you think this was the fifth or sixth time Shelley has been pregnant only to lose it inside the first trimester. She would be on tender hooks right now, worrying whether this will be the little blighter to manage through to the birth…I wondered not for the first time, how Shelley’s equilibrium and sanity would survive if another failure was to occur…she had to be close to her breaking point in that regard.
Then again, she was one resilient and stubborn girl when she wanted to be …
