The Angels Wept (Jarrod O'Connor) by Jack Roney

Author:Jack Roney [Roney, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The small mountain had always stood as the backdrop to the town of Lockyer. Brad cautiously negotiated the winding road; guard rails separated us from the sheer drop towards the rocky cliffs below. We finally reached the picnic area at the summit and parked beside a marked police car. This was a popular picnic spot for tourists and families who came to experience the scenic view over the hinterland and beyond towards the coastline. A pathway led to a wooden lookout platform precariously perched at the very edge of the highest ridge.

We soon located the area cordoned off with blue checkered police tape. The naked body of Clare Kingston dangled by a rope from a tree limb in a thicket of dense bushland just beyond the lookout. Her body couldn’t be seen from the carpark. She had been found by a bush walker who was taking her dog for a morning stroll.

The lonely, silent figure of Clare Kingston was an eerie sight. She had been choked by a well-crafted noose. Her legs were bent and the tops of her bare feet rested on the grass beneath her, as though she had simply lowered herself until the rope around her neck supported her body weight. She would have slowly lost consciousness. This was not a violent suicide like others I had seen where irrational minds had flung themselves from a great height, snapping their necks in the process. From a distance her body resembled a mannequin which had been hung from the tree in some sick prank. Her lifeless body was pale and contrasted with her jet black, short hair. Hanging around her neck from a thin leather strip was an object which sparkled in the sunlight.

Her eyes and mouth were closed and there was no sign of blood or external injury. Even in death she was attractive, she seemed peaceful. I slowly walked closer and recognised the pretty face of the erratic and unstable woman I had once interviewed. Her belongings consisting of a set of car keys, a purse, a black cloak and sandals sat neatly in a pile at the foot of the tree. Her locked car had been left in the carpark near the picnic area. It was though she had committed suicide calmly and with planning, that she had not done this in a deranged state of mind. Her death had a ceremonial feel about it. The black cloak, the strange token around her neck and the remote mountain location reminded me of a pagan ritual.

My attention was drawn towards the sparkling object that hung from the leather strap and rested between her small breasts. It was a glass cube attached to the leather strap at one of its corners. It had been cut and polished with craftsmanship like a diamond. Encapsulated within the cube was another cube. The edges of the various shapes were visible inside the cube. Internal geometric shapes emerged depending on what angle the cube was viewed from. I was able

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