Crisis of Identity

On my way to mum’s, I called in to mine to pick up the birth certificate. If Dawes doesn’t have a recent copy, I will gladly shove this one under his nose.

My heart rate quickened when I noticed a Hertz hire car parked in the street outside mum’s address. The bastard was already here. I parked in the driveway and quickly made my way inside.

Mum and Dawes were sitting at the table when I burst into the kitchen. My baby photo album and the other loose photos were on the table. There were no coffees in front of them.

Mum is one of the most gracious hosts I know. She always offers visitors a beverage. The fact they do not have coffees in front of them speaks volumes to the contempt mum has towards Dawes.

I glared at the unwelcome visitor, as mum stood from her chair and hugged me. My stabbing glare never left Dawes.

Dawes stood from his seat and extended his hand. ‘Good to see you again, Kade…’ he said devoid of sincerity.

My eyes fell to his extended hand. Every ounce of my being told me to ignore the gesture. ‘Evil Kade’ screamed at me to knock his hand away. But I couldn’t. I’m better than that, so I reluctantly accepted his handshake in silence.

After mum and Dawes returned to their sets, I slipped into a seat beside mum. I placed a reassuring hand over her hand.

‘What’s all this about…?’ I asked. My tone was intentionally direct. I did not want him to feel comfortable, or in any way welcome here. ‘Haven’t you bothered us enough?’

‘I was just saying to your mother before you arrived…’ he began. ‘I am over here following some leads on the disappearance of Jayden Evans.’

No shit Einstein. ‘What kind of leads?’ Is what I actually said.

‘Well, for example, I obtained a copy of old electoral rolls for the Gold Coast area and imagine my surprise when I found out that your parents lived in Varsity Lakes on the Coast, which is right next to Robina…’ His smile was smug, like he’d just uncovered a smoking gun lead and solved his case.

‘Well, if you had done your homework, you will see that my parents left that area around two years before Jayden was born...’ Dawes fired me a look of surprise. ‘You’re not the only one around here who is making inquiries detective.’

‘See… I find that very interesting. Why are you making inquiries?’ He didn’t wait for my response. ‘Is it because you are starting to believe that you may very well be Jayden Evans?’

’On the contrary. I made the inquiries to prove I am not Jayden and to get you off my back, once and for all… Have you spoken with Mrs Evans, yet…?’ This time it was me who didn’t wait for a response. ‘As you know, I have… and she agrees that I am not her son.’

‘She wasn’t so certain when we spoke.’

I shook a firm head. ‘I don’t believe that, detective. She was certain when I met her… then there was the birth mark Jayden has and I don’t.’

‘Ah yes, the birth mark…the one she forgot to tell me about when she reported her son missing…’ He said oozing with cynicism.

‘What can I tell you, detective… It is, what it is…’

‘While you and your husband lived in Varsity Lakes did you ever meet Graham and Mandy Evans?’

‘No,’ mum said.

‘You never, at any time, met them…?’

‘Asked and answered, detective,’ I said feeling like a boss lawyer defending his client.

‘What would you say if I told you that Mrs Evans told me that she had met you and your husband on numerous occasions on the Gold Coast.’

‘I’d say either you, or she is lying…’ mum said firmly, with conviction. ‘Where are we supposed to have met them?’

‘I was hoping you’d confirm that for me…’

‘I can’t confirm what never happened.’

Dawes was fishing. It was an old interviewing technique. He clearly made that shit up about Mrs Evans saying she met mum and dad on numerous occasions, hoping mum would admit the same. Kudos to mum. She didn’t let him intimidate her.

‘I also wanted to discuss the photos you sent me…’ he said addressing me.

‘What about them?’

‘In all of the photos you sent me of you as a baby… there weren’t any of you around the age of three…’

I glared at Dawes while several beats passed. ‘You asked for photos of me around the time of my birth. That’s what I sent you…’

‘Well, what I was really hoping to get from you were some photos of you around the same age as what Jayden was when he went missing… around three years old… But I didn’t receive any. There were only baby photos…I just thought that was odd’

‘How is that odd…? I sent you what you asked for...’

‘A photo of you at three years old would be able to show whether you are, or are not Jayden, wouldn’t you say…?’ Dawes didn’t wait for a response. ‘The fact that these photos of you at three years old were not supplied, is very suspicious to me.’

‘I don’t care — ’

‘There are no photos of Kade around three years old because we don’t have any….’ mum interjected. ‘In fact, there aren’t any from ages two to about four or five.’

‘OK. Why’s that?’

Mum gestured to the loose photos on the table. ‘You’ll notice that I rarely appear in any of those photos. Most are of Kade on his own and Kade and his dad…’

‘OK,’ Dawes said, in tone of, I’m unsure where this is going.

‘That’s because I was the one who took the photos. If it was left up to Kade’s father to take photos, there wouldn’t be any memories.’

‘So what happened? Why was there a break in photos…?’

Mum’s mouth straightened. Her eyes fell heavily to the table. ‘When Kade was born there were some… complications, which were compounded by me giving birth to him in a remote location…’

‘So Kade was born naturally then. Not by caesarean…?’

Mum glared at Dawes. She frowned heavily. ‘You’re very personal with your questions, aren’t you…? Next you’ll ask to see my episiotomy scar to prove it…’

Dawes had no response. He extended a hand to mum. ‘There were complications… please continue.’

‘For the next couple of years I was in and out of hospital. But over time… things weren’t improving.’ Dawes made some notes. Mum continued.

‘I was unwell for years… probably from when Kade was one year old through to when he was four or five. Then I had the… operation. So there was a period there where I wasn’t overly mobile and I never took many photos of him…and neither did his dad.’ She looked at me. ‘I’m sorry about that, darling.’

‘You don’t have to apologize, mum.’

Mum continued. ‘Back then, we never had the digital cameras and memory cards like they have today. We used film rolls of 24 or 36 shots that had to be taken to a Chemist in town… in Karratha, to be sent off for developing.’

‘What… so you had to drive five hours, just to develop photos…?’ I asked.

Mum shrugged. ‘Well… Yes. But what we would do was accumulate the film rolls until we were next travelling to Karratha and develop them all at once.’

‘Makes sense,’ I said. Dawes made notes.

‘On one of dad’s trips to town, he took the films to be developed. We had accumulated a few years’ worth by then because with it being so far away… We didn’t visit Karratha often and developing the photos wasn’t a high priority, you see…’ I nodded my understanding.

‘When dad was in town this time… our car was stolen. It was located in the outback all burnt out. The car could be replaced, but the photos…’ mum shook a slow head. ‘All gone. We lost all those photos of you for those early years.’

I glared at Dawes. ‘Satisfied…?’

‘Did you husband report the car stolen at the time?’ Dawes asked.

‘He did.’

‘Do you remember what type of vehicle it was and the registration number?’

Mum scoffed. ‘I don’t even know my own car’s registration.’

‘What year would this have been… When the car was stolen?’

Mum looked at me while she contemplated. ’You were born in ’91… So… It was few years later… I’d guess it was around 1994 or 1995…’ mum said. ‘But I don’t really know.’

Dawes made some notes then removed his phone. After several minutes tapping and sliding fingers across his screen he excused himself from the table to make a call.

From what I could glean he called a Police station, most probably Karratha. He introduced himself and asked to be put through to the records office.

I continued to listen in to his conversation as he stood with his back to us.

‘I don’t have a vehicle or registration, so are you able to search your records by incident and surname?’

’Great. Miller. Ross Miller. Theft & recovery of motor vehicle around ’94 or ‘95. Recovered burnt out.’

‘I’ll wait…’ Dawes turned to us. He lifted a finger. ‘I won’t be long…’

I checked my watch. Mum and I exchanged a frustrated glance.