Low-level ozone swirled up and whipped thoroughly about before rushing in through the open driver side window of his speeding vehicle. His nostrils flared with the scent. A fine mist soaked his face and shirt as he sped towards Sir Reginald’s Estate. He made no effort to close the window because, simply put, he did not care. Its cleansing and refreshing effects exhilarated him. The last time he felt this good was in childhood, hopping, carefree, puddle to puddle, in a warm gentle rain. When his car phone rang, and he saw it was Audrey, he eased up on the accelerator and pulled to the side of the road and stopped. For a moment, he hesitated to receive the call but finally relented. “You couldn’t’ve called at a worse time.” He did not camouflage his irritation as he rolled up the window to block out the swooshing noise of passing cars.
“Would there ever be a right time?” she asked.
His head fell back against the headrest with a sigh. “Honestly, when it comes to you…Us…My thinking is confused. Nothing makes sense.”
“Matthew, I know you followed me the other night… But its not what you think.”
He sat straight up and clutched the steering wheel, white knuckled. “Think?! You know what I think?! I know what my eyes saw!”
Silence fell heavily between them.
“Matthew?”
He released his grip on the wheel and slumped back. “I’m listening.” His voice tumbled out like a gathering and unforgiving thunderstorm.
“Will you listen to me? Let me explain?”
Matt peered at his watch. “I don’t have time now!” His words spat out with venom.
“I don’t mean now! Later. At our apartment.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll have to phone you back.” Though the windshield wipers had been on throughout their conversation, their flapping, almost hypnotizing, to and fro action, cracked through his consciousness. And, somehow, he felt calmer.
“Tonight?” she asked.
He let the sound of the wipers wash through him before he answered. “Yes, tonight. I’ll call when my business at the Estate is complete. Say, seven? If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Matthew?”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
A large lump had formed in his throat preventing his reply. He wished he could have volunteered the same but under the circumstances he just could not, and he reached across the dashboard and disconnected. The rain had picked up but as he stared through the windshield he had not noticed. Where had they gone wrong? He thought. How had he not known? How dare she tell me “I love you,” after I saw her in her ex’s arms! The hurt she bestowed upon him was smothering him; her deceit had stabbed him through the heart. Simply saying sorry won’t do. Tonight? Too many buts! Just too many buts. But he had agreed to meet her. He needed to see her. There was no denying, he wanted to hear her side of the story. Rain began to pelt the roof of his car, its dramatic impetus pulling him out of this self-wallowing and defeating mindset. He took in several deep breaths and decided to wait out the deluge. He needed time to refocus. Head against the headrest, he reviewed his questions and answers from the last two hours.
Earlier he had visited the nearby military base to consult with his friend Major Anna Chang, a doctor in the Medical Corp. She was the first of two quick visits he had managed to arrange before returning to Sir Reginald’s Estate. He described the portion of tattoo he had seen on Mark Dale’s arm to her. Doctor Chang listened intently before stopping him.
“What you have described sounds like a Caduceus tattoo,” she said. “Two snakes turned around a wand with wings at the top. It’s often used incorrectly as a symbol of healthcare organizations and medical practice.”
“Incorrectly used?” Matt replied. “I don’t understand.”
Doctor Chang smiled. “It’s due to the confusion with the traditional medical symbol, particularly in the US.”
“What then is the traditional medical symbol?” he asked
“The Rod of Asclepius which has only one snake and is never depicted with wings. So, I’d say your person of interest is likely American associated with healthcare in some manner.”
After he left the military base and enroute to the Sir Reginald Estate, Matt stopped by the morgue to talk to the pathologist in charge of the autopsies of Chris and Claire Finlay. He knew Captain Gupta had the autopsy report with him at the Estate, but he wanted to read the full blood scan results before his arrival. And he could not have been happier with his findings. It corroborated what he expected.
The rain had turned to drizzle as Matt checked his side mirror and merged into the traffic. He was pleased he had decided to wait out this storm. The sun was trying hard to burst through the clouds. And he felt that maybe, just maybe, better times painted his horizon.