This is the 51st Instalment in the detective fiction Series detailing the life and career of Detective Joseph Lind.
His work took a back seat as he recuperated from major heart surgery and a decent clunk on the head as he fell and hit his head on the side of his desk as he suffered the major heart attack.
Upon his return to work, his mojo was sadly lacking and it took his presence in the two concurrent Terrorist attacks in Sydney, the closure of his long-time friend Knacker’s death and the solving of the “The Three Bodies in the Bathtub” Case before he again found his enthusiasm for the job.
It is said that we are all capable of murder given the right set of circumstances and chain of events.
Lind and Shields are allocated what looks like a ‘standard’ Domestic Violence Homicide and Suicide Case. The ‘bread and butter’ of all Homicide Cops with Domestic Violence matters taking up over 80% of the workload of all State Police Forces Australia-wide. Is this Case so different from all the others? Yes, so it seems when close friends, near neighbours and an adamant, strident daughter reject the allegations of the middle-aged man killing his wife of forty-odd years of marriage then suiciding himself.
A quartet of young, adventurous British tourists are preparing to bed down for the night at a Road-side Rest Area between Wilcannia and Broken Hill. Their night ... their lives are shattered when a bloody spectre emerges from the darkness of the Desert, threatening to shoot them.
Three weeks later, two of the four are found dead, suspected of taking their own lives.
Is it because of that horrific night now dubbed Terror at 9:00PM by the local Broken Hill Media arms?
What is the connection between the two Cases separated by several years?
Approximately twenty-seven months ago.
‘It’s funny how things work out in life. Yer can get curved balls when yer least expect it.’ He thought as he felt his body getting colder.
He sensed his head go floppy, unable to have any control over its movement; not fighting the need to have his head sink further into the pillow. His thoughts too, became somewhat vague and disconnected. He couldn’t think straight or put two words together. All he knew was that he could not go on without his missus beside him. She had been there for almost all his life. Forty-odd years of marriage. Not a perfect marriage by a long shot, but better than a lot of others. He had always adored her and always forgave her few indiscretions throughout time. Anyone can make a mistake, he would always say, though there were many who would never find it in their heart to ever forgive so many of her ‘mistakes’ that he seemed to forget…to look past ... but that was his choice to remain in the marriage. He knew she didn’t want to leave him ... him and his old fuddy-duddy ways, she frustratingly always said…but she never left. She always came back.
Nothing mattered without her. Life wasn’t worth living without her zest for love and living.
‘I won’t know whether we beat the Poms in the latest Ashes duel. It really doesn’t matter, I suppose. Perhaps they have direct telecasts up there…up there? I have my doubts about that.’
He thought he may have smiled at that…perhaps tittered at his own joke…he wasn’t too sure.
He felt his body start to shiver uncontrollable, his bladder voiding. It did not seem to matter much to him anymore that he had wet the bed. He felt cold all over…he felt his brain fighting to remain intact ... trying to remain in control of things over which it had very little power ... he stepped in and out of the blackness…the shadow-world slowly overtaking him ... or really, nothingness, as it enveloped him.