Chapter 6

 

"Richard, Richard," whispered Mark, as he lightly shook his son awake.

Richard moaned and tried to get back to sleep, but Mark kept shaking him awake.

            Richard slowly opened his eyes and saw his dad standing over him.

            "Dad? What, what time is it?" asked Richard, sleepily.

            "Seven-thirty," whispered Mark.

            "Seven-thirty!" cried Richard, rather loudly.

            "Shh," said Mark, rather firmly "Don't wake up your mother."

            "Why are you waking me up at seven-thirty?" whispered Richard, calming down.

            "I'm going to show you the crime scene. I'd like you to help me solve the case."

            "Really? Wow, cool."

            Mark nodded.

"Now get dressed."

            "Okay."

            "I'll be outside," said Mark, as he left Richard's room.

            It took about fifteen minutes before Richard appeared outside, slowly closing the door.

            There was a morning mist hanging close to the ground and as Mark and Richard walked across the morning dew, Mark realised that it was a bit colder than he had expected, so was clutching his arms to his chest to bring more warmth to his body.

            "You cold dad?" asked Richard, as they neared the dirt road.

            Mark nodded. He knew it had been too cold for the dark blue sweater he had on. His son looked fairly cosy in his large warm brown Billabong sweatshirt. Mark contemplated on going back and grabbing a jacket but decided against it.

            "Yes, Rich, " replied Mark. "But I'll be fine."

            "Where exactly are we going?" asked Richard, as they began walking along the road.

            "You know the two cottages across from the small park you used to play in?"

            "Yeah."

            "Well Mrs. Rhinert was murdered there."

            "Oh."

            It wasn't soon before Richard and Mark were close to the ditch and then Richard cried,

            "Wow," when he saw the duck tape overtop the ditch and around the trees in front of the two cottages. "It's like CSI."

            Mark nodded.

            There was one police car on the road now and Mark assumed the policeman was there to watch over the cottage. He noticed that the body bag had been taken away.

            "You going to show me Mrs. Rhinert?" asked Richard, as if he had read Mark's mind.

            Mark shook his head.

            "They took the body bag away."

            "Hey, Detective Flinn," said the police officer who had been guarding the crime scene.

            He stepped out of his car and headed towards Mark and Richard.

            "My name's Carl Richards," said the officer as Mark shook his hand.

            He was much skinnier than Ben but seemed to be very cheerful and had a very firm grip. Carl wasn't wearing a hat and had short buzzed cut blonde hair that really revealed his bright green eyes. He looked like a man from the military but with less muscle.

            "Please, call me Mark."

            "Oh I forgot, you're the First Name Man."

            "First Name Man?" asked Mark in wonder.

            "Yeah, you always want to be addressed as your first name and address everyone else the same."

            "Wow, I haven't been here a day and I’m already getting nicknames."

            "Who's the kid?" asked Carl, directing his gaze at Richard.

            Richard didn't look pleased being called "kid."

            "This is my son, Richard."

            Richard stuck out his hand and Carl leaned down and shook it.

            "Richard, eh? What a coincidence."

            Richard gave him a fake smile.

            "Detective Malcolm should be around shortly, Mark," said Carl

            "Thank you. By the way, how long have you been here?" asked Mark.

            "Since four in the morning."

            "Wow."

            "Yeah, they need someone here so we don't have people crossing police lines and tampering with evidence."

            "Of course."

            "Well, I'd better get back to my cruiser, good luck on the case Mark."

            "Thanks Carl."

            Then Mark waved goodbye to him as he walked back to the police car.

            Once he was inside the car, Richard asked,

            "Is Detective Malcolm the one that made you kneel on the ground?"

            "Yes, Rich, but he's not that awful so doesn't need to be murdered."

            "Oh," said Richard, looking embarrassed. "Sorry about that."

            "Just don't try to stab him when you see him."

            Mark noticed Richard wasn't smiling.

            "Hey, cheer up son," said Mark as he shook his right shoulder.

            Richard smiled a little.

            "There we go, nothing I like more than a smile. Maybe together we can unjerkify Detective Malcolm."

            "Dad that's not a word,” Richard pointed out.

            "Son, was your dad once an English Major or a detective?" asked Mark.

            "Detective," Richard replied blandly.

            "Then I have the right to create new words into the English language."

            "I guess."

            "And speaking of unjerkifying, here's Detective Malcolm."

            A white Chevrolet Hybrid was now driving down the road and parked itself on the lawn close to the Rhinert's cottage.

            Once the ignition was turned off, Francis got out of the driver's seat wearing brown Aviators, a grey suit, with a green shirt, black shoes, and a black and grey chequered tie.

            "Morning Mark," said Francis, as he closed the door of his Hybrid and pressed down on the lock button on his keys.

            The car made a loud clicking sound and as the doors locked themselves. Francis stuffed the keys back into his pocket and placed his sunglasses in the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

            "Morning Francis," said Mark.

            "Is this your son?" asked Francis, as he stretched out his hand towards Richard.

            "Yes," said Mark, as Richard shook his hand.

            "My name's Richard."

            "Nice to meet you Richard," said Francis, as he looked down at him.

            "He's here to see the crime scene and help me solve the case," said Mark.

            "I see. Most detectives wouldn't take their sons to the crime scenes. It's not exactly Canada's Wonderland or anything. You're not going to show him any bodies are you?"

            Mark shook his head.

"He's seen enough television and movies to know what they look like."

"They look worse in real life," Francis told Richard.

"Besides, they took away the body.”.

"You might find more, you can never tell with crime scenes. You think you've seen everything, and then suddenly you're hit with more surprises like another murder on your watch."

"It's true," Mark said to Richard.

"Do you know if Mr. Rhinert has arrived yet?"

Mark shook his head.

"I would think Carl would have told me."

"Well, then we have some time to familiarise your son with what we've found so far."

"Just try to keep the story on the non-gory side."

"I'll try."

The two detectives then spent a few hours getting Richard up-to-date with the case and only told him what he needed to know.