Chapter 14
i.
"Who are you?" repeated Wainwright, slamming his hand on the table to get Kyle's attention. He'd just kind of zoned out.
Kyle gave a little jump and looked up at him in a startled way. Even so, he didn't look like he was 'all there'. It was just a physical reaction; the lights had gone out behind his eyes.
"Well?!" asked Wainwright, letting his impatience come through in his voice, "Who are you?!"
Kyle looked down at the table again. He was holding the coroner's report, but the paper was fluttering violently in his hand because he was shaking so badly.
"Answer me!" bellowed Wainwright, jumping up and leaning over him threateningly with both fists on the table.
"B-boy!" gasped Kyle, as he flinched and cowered back. He looked every inch the abused child just waiting to be beaten.
"Boy?" repeated Wainwright, narrowing his eyes at him. He wasn't sure that he'd heard correctly. "Is that what you said?"
"B-boy" he stammered again, his voice hoarse and choked with emotion, "J- just 'Boy'… I… I think… I th …I think so…"
"You're saying your name is 'Boy'?" asked Wainwright, with a 'what the hell is he talking about?!' glance at Kat. She pulled at his arm and made him sit down again. "Is that a nickname?" he asked, "A name people know you by?"
Kyle just shrugged. He was looking at the certificate in his hand again, eyes glazed and vacant.
"We don't understand" said Kat, "You're saying your name is 'Boy'?"
"That... That's what they c-called me" he whispered, dropping the paper on the table and hugging his arms around himself.
"They called you 'Boy'?" asked Kat, with a confused glance at Wainwright, "Who, Kyle? Who called you that?"
He just nodded, as he stared at the documents in front of him, and began to rock back and forth in his chair. He hadn't done that since he was a child.
"I... I was bad" he whispered, almost inaudibly, "I don't know… I ...they... they said I was bad..."
His brain was a whirl of distant memories, but he couldn't be sure of what was real and what wasn't. How much of what he knew about his life was a lie, and how much had he invented?!
When they'd dragged him out of that house all those years ago, things had changed so quickly. He'd been given a new life, a second chance… and the 'Boy' had been left behind. He'd been left to rot in that basement, and 'Kyle Bennett' had been born. Like a 'reinvention'! They'd renamed him like you'd rename a dog. Some scruffy little stray that you get at the shelter... 'Come here boy! Your new name is 'Kyle'! You'd like that, wouldn't you?!'
When his foster parents had opened that brown folder, and started telling him those made-up stories about things that had happened in his past, (things that couldn't possibly have happened), he'd listened to them, wide-eyed in wonder, like a child listens to a fairy-tale. He hadn't believed them at first. Of course, he hadn't. He'd known they were lies. That they were wrong...
But they wouldn't listen… No-one would listen when he told them they were wrong… They'd just kept repeating the stories...over and over... and they'd seemed to want to believe them so much...
How could he argue with them? He didn't want to make them sad…
Or worse still, what if he made them angry?! What if they got angry and they sent him back?!
He'd gone along with it to make his foster parents happy... and to keep himself safe...
But then, after a while, he'd begun to think that maybe they were true?! That maybe they were right, and he was the one who was wrong? He'd always been told how bad he was. Maybe they were right about him? Maybe he was bad? And maybe that was why he was arguing with them?
Maybe he had only been in that basement for two years? Maybe it just seemed like a lot longer because it had been so horrible? Maybe he had had a mother and father at one point in his life? And maybe he'd even been a normal kid once? Maybe he just didn't remember any of it because he didn't want to? Because losing his mother like that had been too painful? Or maybe it was because of all the beatings? Those people had hit him in the head enough times… Maybe he had brain damage?
Maybe there was a reasonable explanation for all of this?
Besides, those make-believe stories were much nicer than the truth...
...And there were some definite advantages to being 'Kyle'!
...And so many good things about not being 'Boy'. Things that his former self could never have even dreamt of...
So many good things!
'Kyle' had two loving parents, who cared for him, and didn't hurt him, and who did things like throwing him birthday parties, and taking him camping, and letting him eat pizza and ice-cream... He got to go to the park, and he got to play, and read, and learn guitar... and talk… and do all sorts of amazing things…
'Kyle' got to be normal.
He didn't know who this 'Kyle' was, or why these people seemed to think that he was him, but he knew 'one thing' for sure! He did NOT want to be 'Boy' again! He couldn't go back there. He would rather die.
So, he'd accepted his new identity and never looked back. In many ways, 'Boy' really had stayed behind in that basement. He'd been lost and forgotten, and buried there, along with all the painful memories that went with him.
So, 'Kyle' had moved forward without him and built a new life... He had erased as much of the old one as he could, and simply started again... He'd tried not to remember. He'd refused to talk about it. He'd tried to pretend that it had never happened… and little by little, the memories had become muddled together, until he didn't know which ones were true and which ones were invented.
In the end, he hadn't cared.
He'd become Kyle Bennett. A boy with a father, and half-brothers… and a life to be lived… and he'd stopped questioning… He'd started to believe…
He'd chosen to believe...
But he could see it all clearly now!
He wasn't Kyle Bennett… Someone else was Kyle Bennett… and he was just 'Boy'.
…He'd always been 'Boy'!
He'd been living someone else's life for all these years, coveting their identity, and stealing the life that they should have had! Worse than that! He'd become so deluded that he hadn't even realized he was doing it!
Everything that he knew about himself, or thought he knew, about his identity and his bloodline, had been a lie. He wasn't a Bennett and he wasn't a Braxton. He had no idea who he was!
The rug had just been pulled out from below his feet, and the only sense of belonging he'd ever had in this unbelievably shit life of his, had just been taken from him. He had nothing now!
All that was left was that filthy, used, and broken little boy cowering in the dark.
He'd been worthless then, and he was worthless now.
He knew that the Detective was speaking to him but he couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. Just a sneering red face and meaty fists pounding on the table. He was saying something about fingerprint systems, and DNA tests, and fraudulent behaviour? Maybe something about Danny Braxton? …He couldn't be sure. It was all just a warbled nonsense…
He started to try to get to his feet with no clear idea of what he was going to do. He felt strange and lightheaded, as the room began to spin. His chest hurt. Was he having a heart attack?! He knew that he should sit down before he fell, but a basic animal instinct was telling him that he needed fresh air. Maybe that would make him feel better?
He stepped away from the table and began staring around the room, wide-eyed with fear. People were talking to him. There were voices in the background, murmuring softly, but he had no idea what they were saying. It all just sounded like he was under water.
Were there hands on his arms? Was someone shaking him?!
There was a face in front of him now, tanned and pretty, and he could see that the mouth was moving. Nice white teeth. Why couldn't he understand what she was saying?! Why couldn't he concentrate?!
"Kyle, listen to me!" said Kat, holding him by both arms, "You need to calm down!"
He was clearly having a panic attack. He wasn't breathing properly.
His eyes were dazed and vacant. He was looking all around him as though she and the detective weren't even there.
"Get some help!" she said to Wainwright, who rolled his eyes but got up and went outside anyway. She heard him shouting to one of the other constables at the desk.
"Kyle?" she said, putting her hand on the side of his face, "Can you look at me?!"
He looked straight at her but his eyes seemed to be staring through her. He was violently shaking and his chest was heaving in and out in a tight sort of way, as he struggled for breath. He looked like he might collapse at any moment.
"Kyle? …Are you okay?" she asked somewhat redundantly. She knew that he wasn't.
He tried to pull away from her. His heart was going like a jackhammer and having someone hold his arms like this was just making him panic even more.
'I have nothing left' he said to himself, as he realized his whole life was a lie.
He'd never had any real memories. He had flashes of images of days on the beach, and barbecues, and some woman with dark hair singing him to sleep at night. There were smells and tastes, and things that he thought were from before that house… But he could see now that they were probably false memories, created from things that he'd seen on TV, and built around the stories told to him by the Summers, and by Danny Braxton.
They weren't real!
At least... they weren't real for him…
They were Kyle Bennett's memories. Memories that he'd stolen from him, or created for him, and taken as his own.
His real life had been that dark, cold basement. His childhood had been filled with pain and misery, (and nothing but that) for as long as he could remember. He'd probably never felt the sun on his face or been outside before that day that they'd come to take him away. He'd probably lived his whole life in that dungeon… and he'd probably never even had a name!
'Boy'.
That's all he was.
But what was he going to do now?! Who was he?! Where had he come from?! Where would he go from here?!
He tried to take a breath but he couldn't…. His chest just felt so tight... Something was obviously wrong… The more he tried, the more it hurt. It felt like his heart was going to burst…
He knew that Kat was saying something to him again but he couldn't concentrate on what it was. The world seemed deafening and muffled at the same time. He couldn't think.
The room was spinning, so fast now, like being on a fairground ride… and he couldn't make it stop…
"Kyle!" shouted Kat, as he began to stagger.
Suddenly his world went black, and the floor rose up to meet him.
ii.
"All done!" said Nate, snipping the thread neatly and looking at Kyle with concern, "Five stitches".
He cleaned the wound on his forehead with an antiseptic wipe and then covered it with a small bandage. Then he took his gloves off.
"We're going to keep you in tonight, Kyle." he said, patting him on the shoulder gently. "That was a nasty knock you took to the head and I just want to be on the safe side."
Kyle stared at the wall. He hadn't spoken much since he'd woken up and Nate was becoming increasingly worried about him. According to Kat, and the Melbourne detective that had come with him in the ambulance, he'd hit his head on the table in the interview room. They were adamant that he'd simply fainted, but Kyle's behaviour was beginning to ring alarm bells, and made him wonder if there hadn't been some police 'persuasion' involved.
He just seemed very withdrawn. He didn't seem to be suffering any neurological damage, as far as they could see, and they'd even sent him for a CT scan just to be sure, but he was quieter than usual. He would only answer the most basic questions.
This was more like severe traumatic shock.
Someone from psychiatry was coming down to do an assessment in the morning but for now they were just going to keep a close eye on him. Tamara and Heath were out in the hallway, as were Kat and the detective, so he thought he'd better go and fill them in on how Kyle was doing.
"I'll go and let everyone know that you're okay" said Nate, giving Kyle's shoulder a little squeeze, "Then maybe Tamara can come in and sit with you?"
Kyle just nodded slowly and stared out the window.
Tamara and Heath both raced towards Nate as soon as he set foot outside the room, both clamouring for answers, and he could see Kat and the detective sitting in the waiting area. Josh and Evie had arrived too. He held his hands up for them to quieten down and led them all back into the waiting area.
"He's okay" said Nate, giving Tamara as reassuring a smile as he could manage. "At least… physically he's doing okay. He needed a few stitches for the laceration on his forehead but other than that, he's okay. No concussion, as far as we can see… so nothing to be too worried about."
"Can we see him?" asked Tamara, looking up at him with big worried eyes.
"Yes, but just you and Heath, for now, okay?" he said, motioning with his head for them to go on up the hallway. He gave Evie a smile and said, "You and Josh should go home. You can visit in the morning."
He looked at Kat a little suspiciously.
"Given that he fainted" he said, "…we'll be keeping him in tonight and I'd ask that you give him some space."
He turned to address the detective directly and frowned at him.
"I can't allow any more questioning tonight" he said, "We'll see how he's doing in the morning."
Then turning to Kat, he said, "Can I have a word?"
Kat followed him into one of the family rooms and he closed the door behind them. He crossed his arms across his chest and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"What happened really, Kat?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.
"What do you mean?" she answered defensively. "He fainted. That's what happened… And I don't appreciate the insinuation..."
"Well, something happened…" said Nate, interrupting her. "He's not talking and he's displaying all the classic signs of shock… so something happened to him while he was in your custody… and… Kat, I want to know what I'm dealing with!"
"It's confidential Nate, I can't tell you… You can understand that…" she said quietly. Her face softening a little, she said, "He's just heard some very disturbing news and I guess he's still reeling… I'd keep a close eye on him."
He nodded at her in a slightly frustrated way, knowing that she wasn't going to fill him in properly, and wondering what news Kyle could have received that would have him behaving this way. It was like someone had just died.
A terrible thought crossed his mind, that it might be to do with Brax or Ricky, but he knew that he couldn't ask Kat about it, and risk blowing their cover. Ricky had hurt him terribly but that didn't mean that he wanted to hurt her. He'd never understand why she chose to go on the run with Brax, and live that kind of life, but he wouldn't betray her to the police either. If he was going to find out, it was going to have to be from Kyle. He just hoped that he was wrong.
"What is this about wanting a DNA test?" he asked, trying another angle.
She hadn't explained why Kyle had been taken in for questioning in the first place. Detective Wainwright had asked if the hospital could facilitate a DNA test, and work in collaboration with investigators in Melbourne, since Kyle was already here.
Kat grimaced a little. "There's an investigation in Melbourne and Kyle might be involved. They're asking for DNA samples… Nate, I really can't tell you any more than that!"
Nate started to put two and two together. There had been endless news coverage in the last few weeks about the Hames case and multiple appeals for information.
"Is it the Hames case?!" he exclaimed, "Is Kyle involved in that?!" His behaviour suddenly began to make a lot more sense.
She nodded, looking guilty for disclosing this to him. "Look, I can't talk about it right now, but it looks like he might have been one of the victims… or… we don't know yet."
"Kat, I need to know what I'm dealing with here! If Kyle suffered sexual abuse as a child, then I need to know! I've got a psych consultation scheduled tomorrow morning. We need to know the background…"
"I can't, Nate…" she said, giving him an apologetic look and then heading for the door. "Just keep a close eye on him, okay?"
iii.
Back at the station, Kat sat down heavily in the chair at her desk, and gave an exasperated sigh.
"You didn't have to be so hard on him, you know!" she huffed, "Do you speak to all the victims like that?!"
Wainwright sat down on the corner of her desk and frowned at her.
"How do you know that he's really a victim?" he asked, picking up Kyle's case file.
"I think I've seen enough over the last couple of days to know!" she said, glaring back at him, "And I don't think there was anything fake about that panic attack!" She was angry at how things had gone tonight and felt guilty about how badly Kyle had been treated.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that" sneered Wainwright, "Some of these people are very gifted actors."
"Oh, come on!" she groaned, "These people?!"
"He wouldn't be the first to 'accidentally' faint to get out of questioning." said Wainwright.
"That's not what happened!" she replied, "You just spent 20 minutes intimidating a scared and vulnerable victim… and… God only knows what he went through in that house! I kept quiet in there because you outrank me, but I can't bite my tongue any longer… That was a terrible thing that we just did!"
"Have you finished?" said Wainwright, smirking at her a little. "Let me ask you this; Why would a thirteen-year-old boy go along with taking someone else's identity? I mean, by thirteen you would know what your name is, who your parents are, where you come from… I find it hard to believe that he would just forget who he was."
"Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?" she asked, ""Maybe they brainwashed him?!"
Wainwright just snorted and then flicked open the case file.
"How do we know that he was ever even in that house?" he asked, "What do you really know about this man, this man walking around with a dead boy's name?"
"So, what?!" she challenged, "You think a thirteen-year-old boy orchestrated some sort of cover-up for a murder, and then stole the other kid's identity? …What?!"
"No, what I think, is that 'Kyle' here, maybe spent some time in prison with Danny Braxton and got mixed up with him?"
He flicked to the part of his file that dealt with his kidnapping of Casey Braxton and subsequent suspended sentence.
"He seems to have done pretty well out of this whole Braxton connection…" he mused, "With Danny conveniently out of the picture, there was no-one to put them straight, was there?"
She furrowed her brow at him. That seemed like one hell of a leap!
"So!" he continued, "He just slotted himself in quite nicely to their little crime family, didn't he? …I mean, they don't even seem to have questioned his connection at all… No DNA tests… He just showed up and told them he was their brother…"
"I don't think that's exactly how it went down" said Kat.
"No!" he laughed, "You're right there! From what I heard, he tried to kill his youngest brother, and they still welcomed him with open arms?! An interesting bunch, these Braxtons!"
"He was grieving for his father" she reasoned, "I think he had a kind of… a breakdown, I guess you'd call it."
"Uh-huh" he said sarcastically.
"The court obviously felt there were extenuating circumstances" she said, "I'm telling you… Kyle is not a bad guy!"
"Call me cynical, but his sort can always play to a jury" he replied, "...and maybe he was just as good at pulling the wool over the Braxton's eyes... Like I said, he seems to have done pretty well out of all this!"
There were details in the file of both businesses that had been signed over to him about a year ago.
"Now" he said, This 'Kyle'? Whoever he is… He's managed to get his hands on a restaurant and a gym… Inherited from his 'brother' …Not bad at all!"
"You think he's some sort of con man?!" said Kat, staring at him incredulously.
Kyle certainly had a chequered past but he was hardly that much of a criminal mastermind. With Kyle, it had mostly been hot-headed, act first, think second, kind of crimes. This whole con man theory just didn't seem to fit.
"It's certainly a possibility." said Wainwright. "A lot of things just don't add up."
"But why would he say that he'd been in that house in Melbourne? How would he even know that?!" asked Kat.
"That's what I can't figure out" said Wainwright, letting out a heavy sigh. "Unless Danny Braxton told him?"
"But what would he have to gain?" she reasoned, thinking that this man's theory was becoming less and less convincing by the second.
He stared at her for a long while before speaking again. When he did, he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. He suddenly looking quite old and tired.
"I don't know, Chapman" he admitted, "Maybe I'm just getting paranoid… I think I might be letting this case get to me. I've worked these types of cases for so many years… but this one is just getting under my skin. The more this case unfolds... It's just… astonishing the depths to which some people will sink… Human beings have a capacity for cruelty that's just… soul destroying. Every time I think I've gotten to the bottom of it, I discover a new layer, more horrible than the last one… It feels like no-one can be trusted… Dodgy DoCS case workers, paedophile foster parents, bent cops… Just disgusting people every direction you turn…"
"I think you're wrong about Kyle, you know" she said, shaking her head at him.
"The jury's still out on that one!" he chuckled sadly. He wasn't going to give in that easily.
She shook her head at him and picked up the photo of Kyle as a little boy off the desk. His vacant and broken expression from earlier passed through her mind and she couldn't help feeling terribly guilty that they'd just dropped that bombshell on him the way that they had. No wonder he'd fainted! His whole life had just been torn to shreds and tatters before his very eyes.
"I really think that Kyle is telling the truth…" she insisted, "I think he genuinely thought he was Kyle Bennett… and I believe that he was one of those children in that house…"
She held up the photo of Kyle, and stuck it under his nose.
"Look at this photo!" she said, "This is Kyle… You can see it's him… How would a photo of some con man wind up in this casefile?!"
"I don't know" he admitted, "Maybe just a close resemblance?"
She rolled her eyes at him. Anyone could see that the child in the photo was the same person as the man they had just interrogated.
"Look at this little boy…" she said, "Look into his eyes! …And tell me that this child has ever known love!"
He snorted a little and nodded his head. The child did look pitiful.
"Maybe you're right" he sighed, "Maybe I handled this the wrong way."
"I think we both owe him an apology!" she said, looking at the photo in her hand again, "We need to get him some help."
"Maybe so" said Wainwright, "but you might forgive me if I reserve judgement a little longer"
She shook her head at him and stood up to put her cap back on. "I'm going back to the hospital in the morning" she said, "I want to make sure he's okay."