KENNY - 4. Chapter 4

The parents of little Ruth Jalla were distraught that she didn’t return home when expected. Ruth was known to wander off alone and this added to their concern. All the clan came together and started searching the bush where she loved to play. Sadly, it was a short search. Her body, crudely hidden by brushes and a few rocks, was found, not by her own people, but by a bush walker out for a stroll.

The whole clan, and indeed the entire tribe rallied around her parents who were, in a word . . . gutted. Laurie Cree and Gloria were called to the scene and immediately set up a crime site. It became apparent that she didn’t die where she was buried. Within a short time the true site of the killing was established . . . beside a small stream and so another crime site was cordoned off.

Silently, both officers surveyed the body which had been left bruised, bloody and twisted like a broken doll. Cree didn’t offer any comment but Gloria spoke aloud,

‘Well, it’s certainly obvious that she’s been raped; brutally raped and then . . . I was gonna say strangled but there are no signs of any ligature or hand marks around her neck. But look at her mouth; it’s all bruised and lacerated. My guess – and it’s only a guess – is that she was suffocated. I don’t think he intended to kill her . . . if that’s any consolation.’

Cree just mumbled, ‘Looks like it,’ and continued staring at the body. Then,

‘Must ‘ave been one of the abbos junked up on booze and petrol sniffing. Let’s get the body to the coroner as quickly as possible; she’s gonna start stinking soon.’

‘Hey Sarge, shouldn’t we call in the forensic team. There must be loads of invisible evidence we have to gather.’

‘Such as . . . ?’

‘Look on her body; it’s covered with body fluids that aren’t hers. I’d say he sweated a lot and it’s all over her. We’ve got great DNA evidence which we can’t ignore. All we have to do is match the DNA to a perp and we’ve got him!’

Grudgingly, Cree agreed and instructed,

‘Get onto Melbourne and have a forensic flown out here ASAP. Assign two coppers to guard the crime scenes; and keep the bloody abbos away. They’ll have to wait until we’re finished before we can release the body to them.’

As Cree sauntered away, Gloria looked down at the broken body of little Ruthie Jalla.

You poor little girl; no one deserves to die like this; brutally raped and then suffocated; left in a shallow grave at the mercy of animals. What kind of depraved mongrel would do this; could do this. We’ll get you shit face. You left your calling card all over her body. Now little Ruthie is yelling at us to take the evidence you left behind so we can strike you with the full extent of white man’s justice; that is if the abbos don’t get you first.

The news of Ruth Jalla’s death spread like a bushfire throughout the community; particularly the Aboriginal community. Kenny accompanied Gloria to the settlement where they tried to comfort parents who were inconsolable. A death is always a traumatic event, but the death of a young child, and the circumstances of that death, is a heavy burden for any community to carry. Gloria had to ask questions about Ruth’s last known movements; she found it a difficult and loathsome task.

But the early enquiries were disappointing and Gloria had to pin her hope on the forensic team coming up with some clues. At least they had DNA which was extremely important; she advanced the idea of having all the males in town providing DNA samples but Laurie Cree objected to this; at least at this time he wanted to pursue traditional avenues of investigation.

Then the forensic report arrived and confirmed the existence of foreign DNA on Ruth’s body. But strangely, they also found tear drops on Ruth’s face; it seems that the perp had cried over the body when he’d finished. What did this mean? Did the perp suddenly regret his killing?

After three days the investigation became bogged down, and Ruth’s body was released back to her people for burial.

♂♂

‘Do you know what you’ve done? I assume it was you who killed and raped the child. It was you . . . Wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, yes, yes! I didn’t mean to; you’ve got to believe me. It was an accident. I . . . I Ummm, got carried away. I didn’t know she was dead until . . . until, I’d . . . finished. Oh God, I feel awful. I . . . just had to talk to you . . . or someone!’

‘And I shouldn’t have answered my phone; but I knew it was you and needed to talk . . . you fuck’n idiot! You’ve put us all in danger. I’ve talked to a few of the others and they’re ordering you to lay low; don’t go out foraging until the heat dies down . . . if it ever will. You’re a fuckwit!’

‘Oh shit, I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry. What can I do? What do you want me to do?’

‘Drop dead would be nice, but that’s too much to expect from you! D’ya know you left your DNA all over the child? Ya may as well leave a calling card!’

‘How can I get ’round that?’

‘Ya can’t! Just make sure they don’t obtain a sample of your DNA, because if they do, it’s all over for you. You’ll do time; but not for long, ‘cause you’ll be found dead with a crowbar up yer arse.’

(Sobbing . . . muffled sobbing)

‘Look, just act normal; hide your feelings and don’t panic. I’ll keep watch on the situation and I’ll let you know of any developments that may point your way. Play it cool! Ok?’

‘Yeah . . . all right. I’ll do what you say. I promise.’

‘Ok; don’t call me, I’ll call you.

♂♂

Two days after Ruth’s death, Billy told Kenny he wanted to talk.

‘ . . . I’se really got the wind up about little Ruthie. What if it was one of the hippos who killt her? They know they’se not gonna try any rough stuff on me, and Botj is a real hard-arse even though he’s only ten. The filthy perv’s gotta pick on some little abbo girl who can’t defend herself like us boys can. Fuck’n coward!’

‘Yep, that’s true Billy . . . but what’s your point?’

‘I’se wondering if we could bribe the hippo’s info for sex? They get very hungry for a blow job or better and I think they’ll do anything for a bitta relief.’

Kenny exploded,

‘No way, no way hosay! Don’t you go getting involved Billy and that applies particularly to you brother . . . and any other kids involved. We’re dealing with some bad people here. They’ve killed once and I’m sure their gonna kill again . . . if they have to. Leave it to the cops; they’ll find who killed little Ruthie.’

‘What if the cops are involved; what if they’se covering up? How we gonna get justice If’n they’se all bad?’

‘The local cops aren’t involved any more. They’ve brung a team from Melbourne to handle the case; and Constable Meadows . . . you know Gloria Meadows? (Billy nodded yes) . . . she’s been asked to coordinate with the Melbourne cops.’

‘But If’n they’se come in my mouth and I give the juice to you, won’t you get that den nay from it?’

‘You mean DNA. Yes that’s true but you don’t know the name of . . . Jesus, how to I say this properly . . . the person belonging to the DNA sample.’

‘Uhh. . I see the problem; but . . .’

‘Billy, just leave it, huh! I know you’re only trying to help but let the Melbourne cops – the Criminal Investigation Unit – do their job. Promise me you’ll not do anything foolish!’

♂♂

‘Gloria, can you imagine the bloody position I was in; there was this kid offering a mouth full of cum up for DNA analysis. It’s bizarre. I didn’t know what to say, except just ‘leave it be’ and let the professionals do their work. With Ruth Jalla’s murder, all the rules have changed . . . somehow I’ve got to stop the boys offering sex favors for money. But I don’t know how . . . I’m frustrated.’

‘Same here.’

‘What’s the latest news from the investigation team, or are you not allowed to tell me?’

‘I‘ll tell you what I can, but right now we both need a refill.’ As Gloria made her way to the bar, Kenny looked around at the crowded RSL.

Was the killer here in this crowd, right now? Were there people who could offer more info? What does a killer look like? Questions, questions, questions.

Gloria returned from the bar and re-settled herself.

‘All I know is that we have the perps DNA . . . loads of it. We even know he cried over the body, presumably after . . . he’d finished. All we have to do is match the DNA to whomever and the case is solved. Simple? . . . yeah right.’

‘There must be some way; there must be some way to get samples of everyone’s DNA. I’m gonna go down after school and let them take a swab from me. Surely, it’s a process of elimination; the more they can narrow the field, the closer they’ll get to the killer. But that’s another issue; do you think I should tell them about the boys performing sexual favors for church people?’

‘Oh, absolutely! Now that a child has been killed, the investigation team needs all the info it can get; at this morning’s meeting they admitted that they had no fresh leads. Look at is this way, if you don’t tell them you could be charged with withholding evidence or obstruction of justice. Do it ASAP!’

‘Yeah . . . you’re right. But first I’ll tell Billy to pass the word around so’s they don’t get caught out.’

‘No! No, absolutely not! You mustn’t warn them. I know it’s hard but . . . look Kenny; you don’t owe anybody anything anymore. A child has been killed . . . brutally, so it’s not the time to observe social niceties. Just do it! . . . or I’ll do it myself!’

‘Ok, Ok. I’ll . . .’ Just then Kenny’s mobile rang and when he answered,

‘Ken, it’s Jeff. Look . . . Ummm, can I see you ASAP. I need to talk. Any chance you can meet me at the Settlers Arms in say, about half an hour?’

‘If it’s important, Ok. I’m at the RSL with Gloria Meadows; I can come now if you want?’

‘I want; and Ken can you come alone. No reflection on Gloria but what I want to talk about is personal.’

♂♂

‘Did Gloria mind? I didn’t want to insult her or anything, it’s . . . well, I want to talk just between you and me.’ After a pause he said. ‘Fuck Kenny, my life’s a train wreck. My life’s all shit! I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together.’

Jeffry looked miserable. He was sitting forward with his arms on the table and his head hanging down. He hadn’t shaved and was looking unkempt. Kenny leaned forward and gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. The Shearers Arms was quiet and the lighting subdued; all conducive to a private meeting. This time Jeffry was only drinking beer without tequila shots.

‘No, Gloria’s Ok. Jesus Jeff . . . what’s happened? The other night you seemed happy; maybe drunk happy, but happy just the same and now . . . what? What’s happened to bring this on?’

‘You, Ken . . . you. You happened!’

When Kenny’s face portrayed his puzzlement, Jeff continued,

‘I’m like you, Kenny . . . I . . . I’m . . . gay! No, please don’t interrupt; please let me get it all out. I’ve been harboring these fears for a long time now and beside from medical people, I’ve had no one else to talk to. I feel trapped! I’m deeply depressed, I hate myself, and I’m very, very scared. I’ve tried to make my marriage to Cindy work . . . all these years I’ve tried; but when we have sex, I imagine I’m fucking some beautiful guy. I’m sick, (choke) sick, sick! , and . . .’

The pent up emotion overwhelmed Jeff and he started to cry, gently at first but then worsened into deep racking sobs; he lost complete control. His emotional abyss was so deeply distressing that Kenny was at a complete loss on how to respond. In his confusion he just let Jeff cry it out. Eventually, when Jeff had exhausted himself,

‘Shit Jeffry, I’m flabbergasted. Geeze. Wow! Now I can understand why you’re so miserable. I hate to see you or for that matter, anyone so distraught.’

There followed silence as each struggled with their emotions. Eventually,

‘Look Jeff, in a few words you just walked across a minefield. Let’s start by me asking why you’re so afraid?’ Jeff took his time to consider his response.

‘Well, wouldn’t you be afraid having to live with both Laurie and Bert Cree. They’re both so homophobic that if I had’ve told them I was a poofter they, or at least Bert, would’ve disowned me . . . or worse. Remember, even though Bert adopted me, I was an outcast. I had no close family ties to him; I was only the product of his wife’s sister and my own dad. And remember, back then, being a queer, a faggot, was almost a death sentence. And who could I talk to? I felt a kinship with you, but back then I didn’t know about your own sexuality. And we were just kids. Shit!’

Kenny took Jeff’s hand and looked earnestly into his eyes before replying.

‘I was in a mess meself Jeff. I knew I was different, but didn’t know how different. Then one day I met an older guy, about 16 . . . I think I was only twelve, and he introduced me into the gay world. He was kind and gentle . . . I guess I was lucky. And when I met other gays, I realized I wasn’t alone; that I simply was part of an enormous community that endured heavy discrimination. I guess I was lucky Jeff, really lucky.’

‘Did you tell your parents . . . Bill and Clair?’

‘Yes . . . (laughing) and I got two entirely different reactions. My mother called me every bad name she could conjure – faggot, queer, poofter - and screamed that it was my father’s fault; my father just ignored me, wouldn’t speak to me.’

‘How old were you?’

‘About eighteen, I guess. I left home and went to live with my aunt down in Lorne. She was sympathetic and I never knew why . . . until my uncle, her younger brother, tried to rape me.’

‘Shit! What happened?’

‘Another story. Right now we’re discussing you. You also mentioned talking to medical people. What’s that all about?’

A shadow crossed Jeff’s face and his brow crinkled as he fought painful memories. He sat back with one arm on the table. His posture became rigid, defensively rigid and he half turned away from Kenny. It took some time for him to respond. Then,

‘I finally had a breakdown about two years after marrying Cindy. I just couldn’t cope anymore.’ He remained silent; dealing with painful memories. Kenny let him talk at his own pace.

‘I blacked out, and they told me I was trying to punch a hole through a plank table. I woke up in a medical facility that dealt with mental issues. I talked to psychiatrists and attended group therapy sessions but never ever told anybody about my homosexuality. I just couldn’t; it was like I’d erected a huge defensive wall and wouldn’t allow anyone to breach it. I stood alone against the world.’

‘You were that afraid? Christ! How painful that must have been!’

‘Yeah! Eventually, one of the doctors who realized I was holding something back suggested using drugs to overcome my barriers. I agreed. They gave me LSD which didn’t do anything and then . . . Sodium Pentothal, the truth drug. That worked . . . but I still resisted. I remember asking the female nurse to leave before I outed meself. These were the days when homosexuality was regarded as a mental illness, so I entered the next phase which they said would to ‘cure’ me and make me straight.’

Kenny was outraged.

‘You’re kidding right? You gotta be fucking kidding! I didn’t know that the medical profession thought we were all sick. Today it’s homophobia that’s regarded as a sickness, not homosexuality.’

‘Yeah well my friend, times change; slowly but eventually they do change.’ Jeff fell silent and Kenny could see he was taking deep breaths. But his posture had softened; apparently talking about a painful past was helping him. Helping him to get it all out. Eventually,

‘They gave me aversion therapy. Aversion therapy; (another deep breath) which consisted of electric shock treatment, followed up by drugs.’ Jeff paused, but Kenny remained silent too traumatized to say anything, too anguished to find the right words. He kept silent because he just didn’t know what to say; he let Jeff continue.

‘I don’t know if you know anything about aversion therapy Ken, (Kenny signaled no!)

Well it’s very simple; first they electrocute you with increasing voltages and then this is followed by wiring you up to a machine which projects images on a screen. When they want a negative response they jab you with electric shocks. In my case every time a male image appeared on the screen I received an electric shock! Another treatment is to make you violently sick whilst watching nude male images.’

Jeff fell silent. Kenny too sat drained of emotion. Eventually, without saying a word, he collected their glasses and headed to the bar for a refill. On returning he prompted Jeff,

‘What happened then? I mean after they fucked with you?’

‘Then it was over to LSD. I was given a dose, I don’t know what strength, and pictures of naked females would be projected in front of me.’ Jeff stopped and started to sob. “I’m . . . (sob) sorry Kenny. It’s a (sob) . . . bit distressing.’ He downed a large gulp of beer. On an instinct, Kenny went to the bar and came back with two shots of tequila. Jeff downed his and then virtually smashed the glass against the table top. Just then, Ken’s mobile rang. It was Gloria.

‘Is everything alright? Is Jeff OK? D’ya need my help?’

‘Thanks for calling Gloria. No, Jeff is very not OK. He’s been telling me a story that is just unbelievable. It’s mind-boggling. I’ll fill you in; no, I’ll let Jeff. . . (Jeff nodded OK) fill you in when he’s able. I’d rather let Jeff tell you himself. However we’re into shots now. But don’t worry; we’ll call a cab.’

When he finished the call, Jeff – fortified by the booze - took up his story.

‘After several weeks, I left the hospital . . .’

Kenny interrupted, ‘Did Cynthia know any of this; your outing that is. Did she know you’d told the medical people that you were gay?’

‘No! When I left the hospital I just resumed my life before the breakdown. No one knew I’d outed myself. Only me; little o’l me. I just resumed my previous life as if nothing had happened.’

‘I’m confused; what was the point of going through all that pain without any gain. It doesn’t make sense.’

‘You’re right! Absolutely right. What happened was an outcome even the medical people hadn’t predicted. I was left with an identity crisis. Part of me . . . a small part of me was trying to react to the aversion therapy but the other larger part retained my homosexuality. They really fucked me up! They thought they could change black to white, but I just ended up being a mixture of both. Call it a very dark shade of grey. The bottom line was I didn’t really know who I was; and that’s the way I’ve been living for years. Except that my homosexuality just became stronger and stronger; the more I ignored my natural orientation, the stronger it grew.’

‘Jeff,’ Kenny said softly. ‘That’s a horrible story. I can’t begin to imagine the stress you’ve had to live with. And you’ve been holding this inside all alone. What mongrels those medico’s were! They tortured you; no other word for it. You were tortured in the modern era as you would have been in mediaeval times; except, there was no visible injury. No blood spilt. Shit!’

Kenny looked deeply into Jeff’s eyes and tried to convey reassurance. But Jeff continued,

‘So here I am Kenny, a gay man trapped in a heterosexual marriage and terrified of ‘coming out.’ That’s me in a nutshell!’

‘Jeff, what do you want to do? How would you like to end this impasse? Look, as I see it, you’ve only really got two choices; continue as you are and somehow live with the strain or ‘come out’; get a divorce or annulment from Cynthia and begin to live your life. You’re still very young; still young and attractive enough to find a partner and live as a gay man.’

Jeff sat mulling over what Kenny had said. Then he got up, grabbed their empty glasses, went to the bar, and returned with refills and two more tequila shots. He still hadn’t answered Kenny’s question.

‘It’s not that simple; (Kenny sat back showing his frustration) Cynthia is a strict catholic and won’t agree to divorce. And I don’t think I can handle the hostility that coming out would attract. I’m not strong like you Kenny. I’m weak; I guess both Cindy and Laurie know that.’

‘We’re all weak at times; every person has their strengths and weaknesses. Jeff, what you’ve been through would crush any man. What they did to you is . . . is disgusting. You’ve survived but you’re damaged; but not damaged beyond repair. You can get your life back, but only you can do it. Whilst I - and Gloria - have got your back, you’ve got to start being pro-active.’ Kenny hesitated but before Jeff could interrupt, Kenny continued,

‘It’s always easy for someone from the outside to give advice; giving advice is easy. Acting on that advice is really hard. I’m gonna be there for you buddy,’ and Kenny leant across the table and gave Jeff’s hand a squeeze. Once again Kenny felt a surge of sheer pleasure; Jeff’s tense facial features also softened for a moment.

‘C’mon, enough of drama; let’s get pissed and catch cabs home.’

♂♂

“I’m sorry, I need to talk to someone . . . I can’t go on pretending. I keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for the police to arrest me. How could I have killed that poor little girl? I didn’t mean to . . . I think it’s better I go straight to the police and confess.’

‘Are you completely mad? You fuckwit! What about the rest of us? Hmmm. You don’t give a shit about anybody except yourself. You disgust me; go away, keep quiet and let things cool down. Remember they might have your DNA but they can’t match it to anyone. And you’re looking a mess. Go and clean up; then go and relieve yourself with a little girlie porno.

♂♂

‘We have a problem! Unfortunately, it’s become a serious problem.’

‘Let me guess . . . our little friend?’

“Yes. He’s starting to crumble . . . already; and I’m sure that when he does, he’ll take us all down with him. We’re running out of options.’

‘Don’t be a fuckwit! You mean we’ve run out of options. He’s made the decision for us. Put simply, it’s either him or us. Correct?’

‘(Sigh) yes. I kept hoping that we could ride it out, but I know now that we cannot. I don’t know what the next step is? I’ve . . . I’ve . . . well, I’ve never had to face anything like this before. I feel terrible.’

‘Bullshit! You know exactly what we have to do now. If you’re so squeamish, I’ll have to handle it; we can’t have you getting your lily white hands dirty, can we? You make me wanna puke!’

‘You can drop that superior tone. You’re just as concerned about your part in the whole mess. The difference between you and I is that I feel remorse whereas you obviously don’t.’

‘(Sniggering laughter) Ok, just leave it to me.’

♂♂

Fa. James yawned and stretched his legs. His watch indicated only another twenty minutes before the afternoon confession ended, and he was already looking forward to a cup of tea with Fa. O’Brien. Then the indicator light came on signaling a penitent had entered the confessional. With practiced ease he slid open the communication panel and waited for the parishioner to begin.

. . . And waited.

Then came the sound of sobbing . . . soft racking sobs.

‘Don’t be stressing yourself so. Take your time; and if you’ll be wanting to freshen up, there’s a box of tissues nearby. Gently now; I’ve got all the time in the world, so you take your time. Let’s start with your last confession; when was it?’

‘(Sob) about three weeks ago . . . no, it’s more like two weeks ago; no . . . it’s three weeks now. I’ve . . . (sob) I’m all confused.’

‘That’s a good man. Now, what’s happened in the last three weeks that has troubled you so?’

‘I’m (sob) fright . . . frightened to tell you. I’ve done something really, really bad. I . . . (sob) . . . I . . . it’s so bad I can’t say the words. I wish I was dead! Father, my sin is so bad I don’t think you can forgive me.’

Silence again . . . with the sound of sobbing. Fa. James waited. And then,

‘There is no such sin that cannot be forgiven. Are you a good practicing catholic? Do you understand the grace given to you by making confession?’

‘Yes, oh yes. I’m a brother at a catholic college. I understand my religion thoroughly. I (sob) . . . I know about forgiveness. But father, you may be able to forgive me, but I can’t forgive myself.’

‘Well you came to confession for a reason, didn’t you? You want to confess this sin that’s eating away at you. You’ll be wanting to share the burden?’

‘Yes father, yes, yes, yes. I can’t sleep; I’m depressed and have even considered suicide. I just can’t go on pretending all’s ok. I need to be punished!’

‘Hold there; you know killing yourself is a mortal sin. You have no alternative now; you must confess.’

Silence; except for the sobbing and then,

‘I suppose I’m really past caring . . . I . . . I killed someone; I killed a little girl; I (sob) choked her to death with my hands; hid her in a shallow grave hoping that she wouldn’t be found. I killed one of god’s creations, with my own hands. (Sob) Now I’m so sorry and scared.’

‘(gasp) Are you talking about the little aboriginal girl that’s in all the papers?’

‘Yes . . . yes father . . . I am. I’m the (sob) one that killed her.’

Blessed Jesus! This is unbelievable. Here, in my confessional, is the killer of that poor little girl. And he’s come here to confess and seek forgiveness. How can I forgive his sin? His monstrous sin. But I don’t have a choice; as atrocious as it is, I have to forgive him in the name of Jesus.

Fa. James allowed a silence to grow as he considered his position. Then the penitent asked,

‘Can I be forgiven Father? I did not mean to harm the child but my . . . err . . . umm, lust drove me to it. Even though I’ve taken a vow of celibacy I still get unnatural urges that I try to suppress or control. Now, I can’t control my urges any longer; for years I held them under control, but I can’t anymore. My sexual urges are destroying me . . . have destroyed me.’

‘In a way I can understand your dilemma; celibacy is a very hard way to live. If it were an adult I’d be understanding . . . probably sympathetic. I’d after being a hypocrite to say I’ve not had desires; but you raped and killed a little child. A little child of – eight I think – yes, eight years. That’s not natural; it’s unnatural. It’s perverted; you’re a deviant! A very sick deviant.’

‘(Sigh) yes father I know. That’s why I should kill myself. I don’t deserve to live.’

‘Enough of that!’ Fa. James thundered. ‘I’ll hear no more talk of suicide. What you need is help. Psychiatric help! I can’t help you there.’

After a pause . . .

‘I’ll give you absolution only, and I mean only, if you’ll give yourself up to the police. Will you promise me, on your immortal soul, that you’ll go straight to the police and confess to the crime? Will you do that?’

‘Yes father, yes, yes, yes! I want to cleanse my soul. I’m just part of a ring of pedophiles operating in this town and else-ware. I acknowledge my sickness; I know I’m not normal, I’m a pervert but I’m not alone; this depravity has got to stop else there’ll be other young kids killed.’

‘(under his breath) Sweet Jesus!’

Silence . . . then,

‘I give you absolution for your sins. Your penance will be going to the police and owning up to this horrible crime; you must also alert the police to the pedophiles you say are operating in this town. Do you agree?’

‘Yes father; yes I do.’

Then let’s say the Act of Contrition,

‘(together) Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all of my sins because . . .