Post-Mortem

17 November 1989

London

They lay face-up on the cobblestone pavement that snaked between the Victorian-era cottages, near the sign that announced York Avenue in Georgia size 25. A thin white line was etched on the grooves of the road, marking out the perimeter where they sleep, cold and motionless.

“Fuck me.” Detective Williams muttered under his breath, flicking his cigarette to the side of the road, its nib still glowing like the ambers of a dying flame. He was a tall and scrawny man and was often very outspoken too. His eyes, just like his lips, spoke with a certain, charismatic form of intelligence and wit, but the way he stared at just about anyone he was talking to with deep suspicion often unnerved them. He was wearing his yellow-chequered trench coat. It had been out of fashion for a long time but he had taken an unusual liking towards this style of clothing.

“Double homicide, it seems. 2 Gunshot wounds on the 20-year-old female to the left, one in the heart and one in the head. Coroner on-site ruled the one in the head fatal, implanting itself 2 inches into her brain. The one on the right, male in his early 50s, 1 shot in the head, fatal and most likely dead on impact.”

“How curious. Any significant evidence so far?” Williams asked, observing the corpses.

“No sir. Nothing yet so far. The bullets are yet to be examined but aside from that, no witnesses, no murder weapons, no fingerprints, nothing.”

“How curious. How very curious indeed.”

Birmingham

“What the hell do you mean when you don’t know who did it? What the fuck are you clowns doing?”

His hands were shivering from the odd mix of anxiety and anger. His daughter had been shot 2 times in the head and the heart. He had been screaming into the telephone for the better part of an hour; it all made no sense to him. Who had killed his daughter, and why? He hung up the telephone, finally sick of the Met’s indecisiveness. 

He sat on his armchair, next to which a glass of whiskey had been sitting for a little more than an hour on an antique coffee table, untouched, untempered. In the dim light of the lamp, he put his hand over his eyes, trying to wrap around what had just happened. There was no way she was dead. She was still alive on the night of the 9th before she left for London. He remembered her warm smile, her laugh, her hair in the night breeze, and her flannel jacket covered with red squares. 

It was a cold, cold night. The mercury had fallen below 42 Fahrenheit, but when she was around, it felt like the sun was always around to warm his heart. There was nothing like the love he had for his daughter, this creature that he had watched grow for much of his adult life. Between spring days at the playground, summer nights under the vast expanse of space, fall afternoons playing on leaf piles and winter evenings by the fireplace, his love for her was boundless. Why, and how, could this have happened?

10th November 1989

Act 2 Scene 1: A police station. A clock on the wall says 19.18 [with a thick British accent]

Television: And last night, the Berlin Wall fell. After many years in isolation, the iron curtain has started to unravel. Following a failed conference by a minister, Gunter Schabowski, caused Germans from the other side to stream into the West, embracing friends and lovers after years of separation...

[Williams enters, greeting Kevin, his fellow detective]

Williams: Any leads on that double homicide yet?

Kevin: Nothing yet. We’ve taken a look at the bullets that were taken from the bodies and we found something peculiar, there are dates written on them. It says 9th November 1989. They seem to come from somewhere in East Germany. It’s highly unlikely, no, impossible, that the bullets can be made and cross the border to be used as a murder weapon on the same day. It takes at least a week for those buggers to be made and shipped to London.

Williams: Hmm, that is odd.

Kevin: Yeah, I’m not sure either. Perhaps it’s a misprint? 

Williams: Yeah, maybe.

[Intense, frantic knocking, 3 sets of 5 knocks].

Williams: Come in

[He enters in a trenchcoat]

Him [under His breath]: Every question has a solution, doesn’t it? Pace back and forth [Pause, he paces back and forth frantically] frantically. One...Two...Three, step step step like these tiles which seem to stretch beyond these plaster walls, beyond us like an ocean, each small variation like coral reefs, with fish dotting the lining between each small tile of water.

Williams: May I help you?

Him: Detective, every question, has an answer, yes?

Williams: Well not -

Him: I’ve got one for you: Where is my daughter?

Williams: Sir, who are you aga-

Him: There’s only one bloody case in there, where is my daughter?

Williams: Sir please calm down. Who are you?

Him: Calm down, Calm down...calm down. [Laughs maniacally], you want me to calm down? What is this, some fucking play?

Williams: Sir, why have you come here today, what do you need?

Him: My. Daughter. Where. Is. She.

Williams: Sir, are you the father of -- 

Him: Her. You know who she is, fucking hell. What do I need to fucking do huh? 

Williams: Let’s sit down for a moment okay? 

[Clock announces 1923 in a thick British accent]

[The room gets smaller]

Him: Is...is the room getting smaller, heh. You’re funny with your mind games

Williams: Sir are you alright? Come on sir

Him: It’s...closing in...It really is

Williams: What do you me-

Him [snapping]: Why the fuck  is the room getting smaller you useless piece of shit, What the fuck is going on. What the fuck is going on?

[Clock announces 19.27 in a thick British accent]

Williams: If you are the father of the York Avenue murder -- 

Him: Murder. Murder. Like I’d believe that shit. She’s alive. Where are you keeping her?

Williams: She’s dead. She has been for 4 days.

Him: And so is the knife. 

Williams: Knife?

Him: The knife you planted in that scene. The one you stabbed her five times with, in cold blood. The Met are just a bunch of incompetent fucks - 

Williams: Sir, she was shot

Him: Kiss my ass. 

Williams: Please sir, I’m telling you all that we know.

Him: The lights. It’s changing colour; it was blue just now, melancholic and desperate, now it’s red, angry and passionate. 

Williams: What?

Him: Don’t you see, detective, the lights, the lights, they’re...they’re changing. Has the room grown hotter, colder, warmer, brighter, moodier, darker, cleaner, dirtier, faster, slower, more realistic, more orange?

Williams: Sir, what are you going on - 

Him: English breakfast, croissants, Eiffel Tower, Leo Delibes. And these tiles, and tiles and these ones, they’re waving around like the ocean and hello there, is that an island that I see before my eyes? Wherefore hath the sunshine like thou hath today. Imagine greenery like the ocean before you, rolling pastures wherein lie yellow cows and coral reefs. Imagine our existence like a sphere that rolls around in your hand, like a cold marble, sinking and writhing, like a spell has been cast on it. Funny isn’t it?

Williams: Sir I - 

Him: Oh I’ll show you. I’ll fucking show you.

[Knocks William unconscious]

Kevin: What the hell are you doing? You’re under arrest for - 

Him [turns around slowly]: Green lights, turning yellow, turning red, turning violet, then fuchsia, then cyan, then boom. Nothing.

[Strangles Kevin]

[Kevin drops dead on the ground]

[He takes a knife from his trenchcoat and stabs William]

Him: Leave them, leave them, leave the blood on the ground, just scuttle and leave. These hands, these hands shall never be clean. I am a great perturbation in the going-ons of nature, and they, in death, resemble those in sleep. What’s done...what’s done cannot be undone. Out, you damned being, out, out, out, away, away, away.

[He exits]

Clock: It is now 17.56. Please prepare for: Breakfast! It is time for duties aplenty!

Television: And last night, the Berlin Wall fell. After many years in isolation, the iron curtain has started to unravel. Following a failed conference by a minister, Gunter Schabowski, caused Germans from the other side to stream into the West, embracing friends and lovers after years of separation… [Television fades out. End Scene]