KIMMY'S LIST

CHAPTER 13

The video recorded interview with Kimberly went exactly how Jax expected. He put the allegations to her and she vehemently denied them. Unfortunately for Kimberly, due to the passage of time that had passed since each person disappeared, she was unable to provide any alibi.

Her emotive tears and repeated claims of innocence were convincing. She maintained her defence that she was a psychic medium and these people she was accused of murdering visited her, seeking her assistance. She provided that assistance by preparing a list of names and locations and gave that to the police.

With the interview drew to a close, Jax had a couple of more questions he wanted to ask before he wound it up.

‘Have you been visited by any other dead people since these seven dead people on your list visited you?’ Jax asked Kimberly.

‘No.’

‘So, let me see if I have understood this correctly…’ Jax said. ‘You believe that you have the ability to communicate with dead people…but apart from these seven people we have discussed, you have not spoken to any other dead people…that is before, or since. Have I understood that correctly?‘

‘Yes.’

‘So, you mentioned earlier that this psychic ability you have only came to you suddenly, around the time when these people started visiting you?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Then your ability seemed to have stopped since the last of the seven people, Mr Malcolm Denver visited you…’ Jax said as a question.

‘I never said I lost my ability to communicate with those who had passed on…’ Kimberly said. ‘I just haven’t had anyone else visit me since Mr Denver’s visits.’

‘Are you able to prove that you have these psychic abilities that you say you have…?’

‘Exactly how do I do that?”

‘That’s not for me to decide,’ Jax said.

‘I don’t just sit there and summons these people to me like some sort of séance…They just appear when they want my help.’

‘I see. So they contact you…and no-one had needed your help since. Would that be correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you mind if I ask please, Detective…As a point of interest…Have you had any other missing persons reported since the last one…’ The lawyer paused as he checked his notes. ‘Since Mr Denver was reported missing…?’ The lawyer asked.

Jax’s face tightened. He glanced at his notes while he contemplated his response. He was hesitant to inform the lawyer that there had not been any missing persons reported since Mr Denver. But the interview was being recorded so he was obligated to ensure he spoke the truth.

‘Ah…I’d have to check my records…But I don’t think there has been any missing persons that have been reported missing since Mr Denver.’

The lawyer extended an open palm to the detective in an expression of ‘there you go, then…’ Implying that was why Kimberly had not been visited by anyone since Mr Denver. This was not lost on Jax.

Jax wrapped up the two - hour interview. He informed Kimberly of her charges and cautioned her against saying anything further.

Once the camera stopped recording, and while he gathered up his paperwork, Jax informed Kimberly and her lawyer that, given the nature of the charges, he would be seeking to remand Kimberly in custody.

Kimberly’s jaw dropped. Her eyes flared when she heard the news. Her pleading eyes flicked to her lawyer. They screamed at him to not allow the police to lock her up. The thought of being put in a jail cell for something she didn’t do, terrified her.

It was however out of her lawyer’s hands. He could try and argue at the remand hearing for Kimberly to be released on bail, but given the charges were capital offences, bail would be an unlikely option.

Jax checked his watch. The court day was drawing to a close, so he had to move fast. Following some phone calls to the neighbouring court, Jax was fortunate to locate a magistrate who had not finished for the day. The magistrate did however bluntly inform Jax, if his offender was not before the court in fifteen minutes, he would not hear the remand.

Kimberly’s remand hearing was expectedly brief, as most are. Firstly, because it was a straight forward procedural remand hearing for multiple charges of murder. And secondly, the magistrate had a highly anticipated glass of red waiting for him at the end of his day.

Once Jax presented his evidence to the magistrate in support of his application for remand, it was Kimberly’s lawyer’s turn.

‘Yes, Mr Jarvis,’ the Magistrate said in a tone devoid of any interest.

The lawyer stood. ‘Thank you. Your Honour. My client is before the court today facing a number of very serious charges that we will be vigour sly defending, sir. She has never been in trouble with the police before today and the police have not presented any evidence that they hold concerns that my client will be a flight risk, if bail is granted.

‘The police case is solely based on circumstantial evidence and we believe that we have a strong defence to these charges. So I ask the court to consider applying bail with strict conditions attached.’

The magistrate adjusted his glasses. ‘I see here, Mr Jarvis, your client says she has the ability to communicate with people who have passed on.’

The magistrate removed his glasses. ‘Will that be the basis of your ‘strong defence’ at trial…?’

‘It will be, Your Honour ….My client is psychic medium, sir. She is one of the very few people who possess this unique ability.’

‘I see,’ the magistrate mumbled. ‘I read here that your client provided the whereabouts of five murder victims to police…And she learned about their locations when the spirit of each victim communicated with your client.’

‘That’s the gist of it, Sir.’

The magistrate lifted cynical eyebrows. ‘I hope for your client’s sake, Mr Jarvis, she can prove that defence at trial. Until then, I am remanding the accused in custody ahead of a hearing at a date to be fixed.’

Following a scribble of his signature, the magistrate ambled down the steps from his bench and out a nearby door to his waiting glass of red, while the clerk finalised the paperwork.

Kimberly stood from her seat. She scanned the court room for Boyd, sitting in the public seating area. When their eyes met, Kimberly broke down sobbing. Boyd rushed to the front of the court to comfort his wife.

Jax held up a hand. ‘That’s close enough, Mr Davis,’ he said firmly.

Boyd stopped. His pained eyes met Kimberly’s. ‘Don’t worry, Hun. We’re doing everything we can to get you out…Stay strong.’

‘I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry for doing this to you,’ Kimberly said through her sobbing. All she wanted was to hug her husband.

‘You haven’t done anything…’ Boyd said. He glared at Jax. ‘You are innocent, and they know it.’

Once the paperwork was completed, Jax gestured towards the door beside the magistrate’s bench. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

When Jax opened the door, Kimberly turned back to Boyd. He hadn’t moved. Watching the hurt she caused her husband cut deep. She again broke down crying, partly for the pained expression on his face, and partly from the fear of the unknown of what lay ahead.

Jax gently guided Kimberly though the doorway leading into the secure passage between the police station and the court complex. She tried for one last over the shoulder glance at her husband, but the closing door deprived her of that last liberty. She was now all alone.

As they moved through the tunnel towards the police station, Jax released his light hold on Kimberly’s arm. He flicked a sideways glance at his prisoner. Her head was lowered and her shoulders were rounded. Her blank eyes watched the ground as they strolled.

‘You OK?’ Jax asked.

‘No…I’ve just been remanded for something I didn’t do…So, NO. I’m not OK,’ Kimberly said in a tone filled with a mix of rage and frustration. ‘I just want to go home,’ Kimberly said. ‘I just want to see my husband,’ she sobbed.

None of this was pleasant for Jax. Typically, the hardened cop would experience a sense of achievement on the walk back to the cells, having just remanded one of his crooks. Kimberly’s collar however was different. There was no satisfaction during this walk. There was no confidence he had the right offender. There was only a strong sense of pity and maybe a little sympathy.

At the police station, Kimberly stood at a counter watching an austere male cop record all her possession onto a form. When he was finished, he dropped the pen and rotated the page. He tapped the foot of the page. ‘Sign,’ he grunted. His tone was curt.

Tears welled as she scribbled her signature. She was no longer worthy of respect, or common courtesy afforded the average member of society. To this cop at least, she was clearly a lowlife crook. And that hurt. She dropped the pen onto the form.

‘This way,’ Jax said. He flicked a finger to their left. Another uniform cop, carrying a ring of keys joined them.

As she strolled to the unknown, Kimberly dragged a finger under each eye to catch escaping tears. ‘Will I be able to get a change of clothes? These are my work clothes…’

‘I’ll arrange for your husband to bring something in for you. Any preferences?’ Jax said.

‘He’ll know what to bring in. Will I be able to see him when he brings my clothing in?’ Kimberly asked with the first sign of hope in her voice.

‘Unfortunately, no.’

Kimberly’s shoulders slumped.

They arrived at a steel cell door. The uniform cop unlocked the door and entered. Jax gestured to Kimberly to follow the cop. She stepped into a brightly lit, large open area of concrete enclosed by four walls.

Four women lounged around the perimeter. Each one glared at the unannounced intruder.

Three cell doors opened onto this yard. ‘This is the exercise yard,’ Jax said. ‘You’re over here.’ He gestured to the cop waiting in the open doorway of a cell.

Kimberly took a shaky step into the cell, stopping inside the doorway. She glanced over a shoulder to see her police escorts moving away. She was now on her own. She took a typical first time glance around the small confines. There were two single beds, each with a thin grey vinyl covered mattress over the cold concrete base.

A heavily tattooed, waif woman with dark rings under her glazed eyes, sat cross legged on one of the beds. Her scruffy bottle - blonde hair with prominent dark roots had not seen a brush in recent times.

Kimberly’s eyes fell to the folded blankets and a heavily stained pillow on what was now her bed. She slowly edged her way to her bed, while keeping an eye on her frightening cell mate. Kimberly’s eyes locked onto her pillow. Her face screwed up.

What are those yellow and brown stains?

Her gaze lifted to the stainless steel toilet over in the corner, no seat and no privacy. Her lip curled.

Kimberly slid onto the bed and leaned back against a wall. She glanced at her cell mate, same vacant stare into nothing.

She decided to try conversation. ‘I’m Kimberly…’

‘Tell someone who cares, bitch…’ the woman snapped. Her blank expression remained unchanged.

Kimberly was taken aback. OK. So that’s how it’s going to be…

The thought of being locked up in here at night with that woman was scary. She doubted she would be able to sleep.

With all the time to sit and dwell, regret started to surface and the ‘what ifs’ dominated her thoughts. If only she didn’t go to the cops, she wouldn’t be here now. She would be home with Boyd.

A police woman entered the cell carrying a tray.

‘Get us a smoke, will ya,’ Kimberly’s cell mate blurted.

The cop placed a plate of food on the bed beside the other woman. She moved to Kimberly’s bed and did the same.

‘I said, get us a smoke? Don’t ignore me, Pig.’

Kimberly’s jaw dropped at the arrogance of this other woman.

The police woman glared at Kimberly’s cell mate. ‘And you wonder why you’re not getting any smokes…’

As the cop moved to exit the cell, the woman used her foot to shove the metal plate of food onto the floor. Kimberly startled at the sound of metal on concrete echoing inside the small space. Food splattered across the floor.

The cop glared at the woman. ‘Looks like you’ll be hungry tonight…’

‘Get me a fucken’ smoke, bitch,’ she snapped.

Kimberly held an open mouth stare at the blatant disrespect shown towards this police woman. This cop was being friendly enough. Kimberly regarded this scary woman.

Everything about her intimidated Kimberly.

The cop looked to Kimberly.

‘You good?’

Kimberly nodded. ‘Oh, What time is it, please?’

The cop checked her watch. ‘5PM.’

‘Do you know what will be happening to me?’ Kimberly asked as her intimidated eyes flicked to her scary cell mate, hoping for a reprieve of some sort.

‘Not sure. The last bus has gone, so you’ll be staying here tonight. Then you’ll probably be transported tomorrow, some time.’

The bus she referred to was the Dorathy Oolong Corrections Shelter transport.

‘Transported where?’

‘Probably the DOCS…’

‘What’s that?’

‘A fucken’ shit ‘ole,’ Kimberly’s cell mate blurted.

The cop shook a disapproving head. ‘The Dorathy Oolong Corrections Shelter. It’s in Deer Park. That is usually where woman on remand are sent OK?’

The cop glared one more time at the other woman, then left the cell.

The DOCS sounded more like a rehab centre than a jail. Kimberly inspected her plate of food. One greasy sausage, one mince hamburger, peas, beans and mashed potato. Under any other circumstances this meal would be unappetizing. But this was her first meal since breakfast and she was starving.

Kimberly paused before every mouthful to regard her cell mate, to check she wasn’t coming over like a school yard bully to steal her meal.

The other woman didn’t move. In fact, she never changed her expression the entire time Kimberly dined.

Kimberly had never experienced someone like this woman. She often read about the effects illicit drug use had on a person. Now she had witnessed it first - hand, and it was Sad, a wasted life.