The Forgetful Man: The Government Rain Mysteries Read online

  The Forgetful Man

  The Government Rain Mysteries

  By L.A. Frederick

  Copyright © L.A. Frederick 2017

  The right of L.A. Frederick to be identified as the author of the Work has been asserted him in accordance with Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise without written permission from the author.

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  www.lafrederick.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Forgetful Man (The Government Rain Mysteries)

  Exclusive Chapter: | ‘The Homeless Man’, from The Rain. The first full-length novel from The Government Rain Mysteries

  ‘If you’ll please follow me this way.’

  Nathan Fisher was an expert on the last few hundred years of the country’s history; especially its capital, New Hampton. He loved his job at the Royal Museum.

  He also loved giving these tours.

  The past of the city and the outer reaches of the country always fascinated him. He’d always found something oddly comforting about the majority of the city’s ancestors all grouping together hundreds of years ago to form one giant civilisation. That civilisation was now known as New Hampton and it resided at the base of the nation.

  ‘So no one lives outside of New Hampton anymore?’ asked an inquisitive young girl in her early teens, wearing black-rimmed glasses.

  ‘On the whole, no.’ Nathan took another half dozen paces to keep the tour moving. ‘There are the odd pockets here and there. They’re way up north, but they are small, remote towns at best.’ The stubborn pioneers that had refused to join the herd had always disconcerted Nathan; he was a sheep at heart.

  Nathan moved towards an enormous, imposing piece of artwork that dominated the back wall of the museum. ‘Here you can see New Hampton on this old map. Look, here we are.’ He swept his left arm, across and down the map. Being neatly attired in a navy-blue Royal Museum blazer always gave him an immense sense of pride.

  ‘New Hampton resides in the south-eastern part of the country and makes up well over ninety percent of the country’s population.’

  ‘But why?’ asked a snotty young boy. Nathan guessed he didn’t really care. He was just trying to be awkward like most teenage boys. I hope Louie doesn’t turn out like that.

  ‘The Great Depression several hundred years ago forced many thriving northern towns into poverty and left people no choice but to venture south. Even the northern reaches of the city, beyond the vast forest, were affected and deserted. Thousands of people just upped and left, thus swelling the population of New Hampton and turning it into the thriving metropolis it is now.’

  ‘But what exactly was the Great Depression?’ the young girl said. ‘I’ve read a lot of our history, but it seems incredibly vague. Only mentions of adverse climates destroying everything in its path.’ She had a good mind for this. Nathan liked her.

  ‘That’s an excellent question,’ he replied, ‘and in fairness, you’ve pretty much answered your own question. The records are limited. We presume much was lost in the journey to New Hampton. The northern lands became uninhabitable, and the masses were forced to up sticks.’ Nathan traced his finger down the snaking line on the map that started at the very northern tip of the country, worming its way all the way down to the heart of New Hampton. ‘You can see here the Country Line train track practically charts the route down. Back then there were close to one hundred prosperous towns. Now the few towns that remain are at the very northernmost of the country. They have a coastline, so their residents are able to fish and survive the harsh climates. The people further south and further inland were not so fortunate.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ a spotty teenage boy said in a monotone, and his friends all sniggered. Nathan and the young girl both scowled at the group.

  The group’s teacher stepped into the conversation, to rescue those with an inclination for education. She was a slender woman with a hard stare and her voice carried with a tone of authority that allowed no rebuke.

  ‘Enough of that, boys. Thank you so much. Right, you’ve got fifteen minutes to get anything you want from the gift shop or go to the toilet. Then back on the bus, back to school.’ The resulting groans echoed throughout the vast marble hallways of the Royal Museum. ‘The tour was excellent, really inspiring stuff. I think at least one pupil got something out of it.’ She placed a hand on the young girl’s shoulder.

  After the group had wandered around the gift shop, they departed for the bus. At the exit, the young girl smiled and waved at Nathan, and her teacher mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

  ‘You’re most welcome, Mrs Crabtree.’ Nathan smiled and wandered off for his lunch break.

  ‘Put them in there and be careful with them. The boss doesn’t want them opening.’ The fiercely handsome man’s voice was stern, and Nathan didn’t recognise him or the huge men that were lugging crates into a back room of the museum. The workers smelt unwashed; their stench offended Nathan almost as much as the leader’s pungent cologne. Smells expensive.

  ‘Excuse me, who are you? And what are those crates?’ asked Nathan, failing to hide his consternation.

  The man smirked before adopting an amiable smile. The glint from his skull-tipped boots caused Nathan to wince when he glanced down at them.

  ‘Look—’ he paused to glance in at Nathan’s name tag, ‘—Nathan, you needn’t concern yourself with these crates. Okay? Our boss has paid good money to hire out these rooms, and as part of his fee, he demands discretion.’ A look around the wide entrance hall indicated that every other employee at the museum had got the message, loud and clear. Nathan noticed that all the staff avoided the man’s gaze and avoided looking at the two giants moving crate after crate into the storage room. His stomach lurched. Something’s not right here.

  ‘Uh... right, okay. Well, I’d best be getting on. I’ve got a day full of tours lined up. You have a good day.’

  The man had a light scar at the corner of his right eye. Though it seemed faded, it gave him a dangerous edge.

  ‘Thank you, Nathan, and you too.’

  He turned away and moved into the back room where the sweating, rotund giants had finished unloading the crates. Whatever was in the crates was apparently substantial.

  Let it go, Nathan warned himself. His curiosity wanted to push the matter, but he was no hero. He fell back into line: the story of his life.

  Nathan Fisher was happy, as happy as he could ever remember.

  However, his memory wasn’t what it used to be.

  Since turning forty a few years back, he’d noticed his ability to hang on to information wasn’t what it once was. Running taps, locking doors, new people’s names—all relatively small things, but when combined they were beginning to create a bigger problem. He’d never mentioned it to his wife or the kids, he didn’t want them worrying, and it wasn’t as if he’d ever forgotten anything important in his life.

  A great week at the Royal Museum, capped off by today. It was the perfect Sunday; a relaxed day with his family. His wife was in the kitchen. ‘Her rightful place,’ he’d tease her whenever she set about making one of her infamous Sunday roast dinners. The children were on the floor before him, happily playing a board game.

  Louie, aged six, was growing up to be a thoughtful young man. H
e was currently letting Maggie, his four-year-old sister, win the game, although he wasn’t letting on.

  Nathan was immensely proud of his son and knew that Louie was destined for great, world-changing things.

  Nathan reclined on the black leather sofa that accommodated his six-foot frame perfectly. The icing on the cake was the fresh beer he had in his left hand. This is heaven. It’s funny how the happy, peaceful moments never last.

  ‘Remember, don’t forget your umbrellas, it’s going to be a wet one today,’ the ageing weatherman added as much cheer to the gloomy statement as he could.

  Nathan wasn’t convinced.

  ‘Like I need to worry about going outside today. It’s not like I have anywhere to be.’ He noted the self-pity pouring out of his words. Self-pity flowed from most of his words these days. Ever since losing his job at the Royal Museum, things had turned bad. Well, for him, anyway.

  Even while sat, home alone, watching TV, Nathan had one or two redeeming qualities that would never desert him. Namely, his fierce love for his family. He’d managed to shield his wife and two young children from the fact he’d recently lost his job. He’d always been good with money, and his savings would hold him in good stead until he found new employment. That doesn’t mean I don’t loathe what’s within.

  ‘C’mon. Get up. Go outside. We don’t want to become a recluse, do we?’ Nathan happened to agree with himself for once. While tidying up didn’t necessarily make him feel better, at least a clean house meant his wife would be happy. Ultimately, that’s all Nathan cared about—his family and their happiness. He prepared a meal for them and was about to move onto another menial task when he noticed the rain pelting down outside.

  ‘Ah, shit!’

  One of the other mundane tasks he’d achieved today was putting the washing on and then hanging it out to dry in the garden. Nature was undoing his work. Not on my watch!

  He bolted out into the garden, basket in hand, and began furiously plucking at items of clothing that he’d hung up rather crudely. The rain was beating him into submission, the clothing had already become soaked, and he was beginning to admit defeat when he slipped on the slick grass and upended himself.

  ‘Fuck!’ The expletive boomed out of him as he vaulted into the air.

  The basket full of clothing toppled down on top of him. He too was soaked. At that moment, he felt oddly calm, amused at the situation and chuckling at the thought of seeing someone else in this position. The rain, albeit cool, felt nice against his warm skin. I always feel hot these days. It was an odd change he’d noticed in the past few months, and it seemed to coincide with his bouts of memory loss. ‘Warmth and fogginess,’ he’d once mumbled to himself.

  ‘What the hell?’ exclaimed Nathan’s wife in the dimming light, ‘What on earth are you doing down there, Nathan?’

  She looks beautiful in the evening light.

  ‘Uh... Uh... I honestly don’t know. You know, I think I must’ve fallen asleep out here.’ Nathan was trying to explain it to himself as much as to his wife. That’s what must have happened.

  It had been light when he ran out to save the washing. It had been raining. Now it was darkening, and the only remnants of the storm were the wet laundry and the fresh smell that wafted up from the damp grass.

  ‘You know you work too hard at that museum,’ his wife smiled as she helped him to his feet, ‘but thank you for cooking dinner. You’re a real lifesaver at times. You know that, don’t you, Nathan Fisher?’

  Ignorance was bliss and Nathan wouldn’t ruin that for his wife, nor for himself. He liked the way she thought of him and the way she looked at him. Genuine pride. That feeling would disappear if he told her he’d lost his job at the museum. It wouldn’t even matter if he told her several people lost their jobs. It wouldn’t matter if he said that a corporate restructuring and a new team getting appointed were the reasons he’d lost his job. She wouldn’t care that he was well regarded and that it had been ‘a difficult decision’ to let him go.

  His wife was a proud woman, and this would embarrass her. I have to keep lying, just for now until we figure something out.

  ‘I’m not sure about the beard, I have to say.’ His wife was politely mocking him. In truth, she’d have stopped him growing it these past few months if she didn’t like it. She never left any doubt; it was a quality Nathan admired in his wife—clear, concise. Nathan lacked that more and more these days. His mind was wandering, and his savings were dwindling. The lie is catching up to us.

  ‘Anyways, I must dash. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t forget to pick the kids up.’ She smiled as she kissed him on the cheek and ran out the door.

  ‘Ha bloody ha. Like I’d forget! See you later, darling.’

  Once she left, he sat at the computer furiously searching for jobs. He’d had countless rejections and numerous failed interviews. The realisation that he didn’t have any discernible transferable skills from his long service at the museum was a real kick in the teeth. He was becoming desperate. Tell her.

  The voice in his head had started to grate on him as of late. ‘I can’t,’ he pleaded with himself. He still didn’t have the answer, but coming clean to his wife wasn’t it. One day it’ll have to be, or she’ll never forgive us.

  ‘Shut up,’ he told himself.

  It was becoming a recurring theme.

  Nathan had completed a tonne of job applications, at least twenty of them. The housework was complete; well, most of it anyway. He’d picked Louie up from school, and they’d stopped at a toyshop for a treat before going to pick up Maggie from the nursery.

  A sudden popping sound startled Nathan. A tyre has burst, great!

  Nathan was a competent driver, and he managed to navigate them onto the hard shoulder safely. ‘Hey, Louie, you okay back there?’ Nathan turned and smiled to his six-year-old double. Louie had similar chestnut hair and a healthy, handsome face. ‘I’m okay, Daddy. What was that?’ God, I love him.

  ‘We’ve burst a tyre, unfortunately. It’s okay though. I know how to fix it. Are you all right to sit in here while I change it? I’ll only be outside, all right?’

  ‘But can’t I help you?’ Louie’s kind nature always gave him a predilection for helping others. Bless his soul.

  ‘Umm... sure, no wait hang on—it looks like it’s raining. You’ll get wet. You wait here. It’ll take me five, ten minutes tops. I promise.’

  ‘Okay, Daddy.’

  By the time Nathan had managed to remove the broken back-left tyre and prepare the new one, the rain was chucking it down, and he was soaked through to his core. It was a cold day, and the wind was biting. Nathan knew it was odd that he didn’t feel it and, as was the case these days, he felt warm. I should be freezing right now.

  Typically, at a moment when he could use a little help, no one was around and those that did pass by didn’t even bother to slow down. New Hampton was nice like that; people were always racing off to chase their own selfish needs. Helping others with no benefit to one’s self wouldn’t serve.

  Nathan glanced into the back of the car just in time to see Louie’s expression turn from glee to pure terror. Louie screamed, and Nathan instinctively turned around expecting to see someone approaching him, poised to attack. There was no one to be seen. He turned back towards the car.

  ‘What’s the matter, Louie? What’s wrong?’ He was panicking and Louie’s fear was palpable.

  ‘Daddy! Help! Where are you?’ Louie screamed.

  ‘I’m right here!’ Nathan yelled, terrified himself.

  He opened the door. ‘See, look, it’s okay. I’m right here.’

  Louie’s screams intensified, and he lashed a foot out at his father. What the hell?

  It was then that Nathan noticed it; he was what Louie was so afraid of. His skin had turned a weird glaucous shade and appeared to have scales running across it. He slammed the door shut, drowning out Louie’s screams from inside the car. The rain rattled furiously onto the concrete, car and Nathan.

 
; ‘What the hell is going on?’ Nathan screamed as confusion engulfed him. He looked all around in fear and in search of aid. Aid wasn’t forthcoming, and fear threatened to overwhelm him. He struggled to remember what was going on.

  ‘Where am I?’ he asked, partly in panic, mostly in confusion. He turned back to look at the car and, in the window’s reflection, saw a monster. We’re not a monster.

  Nathan couldn’t agree with himself; he didn’t even know who he was. He didn’t recognise the car, or the terrified boy sitting in the back of the car. All he saw was the monster; it looked more like a sea creature than a man. Horrific, pale, blue-grey skin surrounded by a chestnut beard.

  The reflection of the strange, monstrous man shrieked a high-pitched cry, and Nathan watched with grim fascination as the windows on the car cracked into a thousand pieces. The young child inside thrashed momentarily before slumping down. Nathan momentarily teetered before stumbling to his knees and then down onto his belly.

  Just before he hit the floor, he noticed a huge black smear fifty yards up on the grass verge, masked within the forest. It was a man was shrouded in dark shadow and dark clothing. He stared down as Nathan gradually passed out on the floor. He never moved or offered to help.

  ‘Are you all right, Nathan? Please, wake up. Talk to me.’ His wife’s imploring tone brought him out of his drowsy, near unconscious state.

  ‘Where am I?’ Nathan muttered.

  ‘Oh thank God. I didn’t think you were going to wake up. You’ve been in an accident.’ The relief in his wife’s voice was palpable.

  ‘Wait. What? An accident? Where are the children?’ Nathan began to panic and tried to rise, only to have a wave of dizziness send him back down to the bed. Glancing around, he saw that he was on a ward, wearing hospital clothes, and hooked up to a drip. ‘What the hell happened?’

  ‘I was hoping you could tell me that,’ asked a strong-jawed man who’d snuck in behind the curtain to stand before Nathan and his wife. He had a deep cut with several stitches across his dark forehead. It looked sore, and the bloodied white stitches were in stark contrast to his brown skin. He had a black eye, more of a purple shade.