The Gymnast

Contains suicide, references to mental health and implied sexual abuse.

All manner of emergency vehicles surrounds the street: with paramedics and police moving in and out of a garage roller door. There are curious onlookers, from the neighbourhood, standing on the suburban street.

“Vultures! These neighbours are going to be gossiping bout all this,” remarks Frankie, a sibling, as he arrives at the family home, having received a phone call from his mum.  There was a call made to the police, of a young man’s fatal overdose. The deceased known as Billy, was discovered by his parents. Constable Frederick Steele, steps over the threshold, ducking his head under a half-opened garage roller door. He can hear sobbing and wailing from the main house, the paramedics have instructed the family to wait inside temporarily, while the police look around.

Immediately he is hit with a lot of photographs on the walls, and medals. In the photos Billy is standing smiling at various gymnastic events, at various ages.

“Ah, so Billy was involved in gymnastics,” Steele says to Constable Sally. 

“Yes, that’s what they told the paramedics.”

 Billy had lived in this converted garage, for 3 years. A television set, fridge, bed and basic stovetop with a kettle, had been set up to accommodate his own little space. Atop the bed Billy lay, eyes open, his body stiff and cold. A few empty medication containers are on the bedside table.

“I’ve not yet dealt with a suicide case,” Steele remarks to Constable Sally.

“Mmm, I’ve had two previous ones.”

“I think you need to look at this.” A paramedic hands Sally a hand-written scrawled note. Sally looks down, Steele peers at hit too. It reads

THE DEVILS ARE INSIDE THE WALLS

You can’t harm me anymore

No one will believe me cos I’m a male

Sorry mum, dad and Frankie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

The paramedics are collecting their medical gear that had surrounded the bed.  

“Let us know when the family can come back in, as he will be taken away soon,” a paramedic says.

The police continue looking around the room, with gloved hands they pick up medication bottles and put them inside zip locked bags. They look at more of the pictures, Frederick notices with one of the photos, the left half of it, is folded over and is not on view. It just shows Billy and a female, the same age, standing with him, both smiling.

“Who’s the girl in the picture?”

“Don’t know, maybe a girlfriend?” Sally responds.

“Might not be relevant, but why is it folded over? May ask the family that.”

The family is given privacy and the body of Billy is then wheeled out covered in a black tarpaulin.

After the body is gone, Billy’s sibling Frankie, steps outside with Frederick Steele and Sally.

“We’re going to have to ask your parents to come and give a statement. Not today, but soon.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a photo in there, do you know why the picture is folded over?” Steele asks. “I can go and get it to show you what I mean.”

“No, it’s okay, I know the one you mean. That’s his gymnastics coach, I don’t know why he folded it to hide the coach in the photo.”

The mother and father of Billy are waiting inside the police reception area. Constable Frederick Steele and Constable Sally walk out to greet the parents of Billy.

“Would you like to come into this office.” Constable Sally motions for them to follow. The parents oblige. Constable Sally asks the questions, while Steele writes the answers down. The questions relate to the days leading up to his suicide. As well as Billy’s mental health history. Billy’s mother reaches into a hand bag and pulls out a photo.

“Constable Steele, I understand you were asking about this?” The mother was holding the photo that Steele noticed in the garage that was covering someone. It was now unfolded showing the full photo.

“Yes, I just wasn’t sure if there was a reason,” Steele replies.

“This is his coach,” she says pointing.

He has a moustache, grey hair and a tracksuit.

“Billy loved that club, I don’t know why he would do that, because that coach helped him achieve goals.”

“And who is this girl, was he in a relationship?”

“Ah no, that’s his friend Imogen. He met her at Balance Gymnastics, the club he went to. They have mixed classes, unlike Billy’s previous club, so that’s how he met her. Although she stopped a while ago: they remained friends.” Sally writes down the club name as well as Imogen’s.

Steele recognises the business name. Years ago, he used to see the venue, catching the bus after school, as it passed through the industrial western suburbs.

Just before the parents get up to leave, the father takes out a disc, handing it to Constable Sally.

“Here is one of Billy’s gymnastic videos. Perhaps you can see a sample of who our boy was.”

Constable Frederick Steele is sitting at his desk: bogged-down in the mundane task of sifting through paperwork. Beside him, is the suicide note. He is staring at the words THE DEVILS ARE INSIDE THE WALLS. As he is a low-rank officer, it is not his job to investigate cases. It is merely to follow-up on the best leads. This information would usually be passed down to him and other officers. He is going through an internal police portal online, as instructed by the investigating team of the police, searching for any references to the business name Balance Gymnastics. Then he sees something that caches his eye.  

A transcript of a report, that looks like it may contain some solid info, so Steele clicks on it. There is a reference number, and below that is simply written Participant A (known as Imogen), 17 years of age, female, gymnast. Participant A is a member of Balance Gymnastics.  He reads on.

A senior coach (known as Gunther) at Balance, had made inappropriate comments towards Participant A. The coach also walked in on Participant A while she was getting changed. Below was a date, “ah, five years ago,” Steele said under his breath. He continues reading. This same coach attempted to grope participant A, (four years ago), below this it reads Participant A provided this information. Coach Gunther volunteered to a police interview. Gunther cleared up the misunderstanding. Was not pursued by police after that. 

Oh, that’s odd. That’s probably why she left, Steele thinks. Wonder if any future incidents involving this coach and a pupil could have happened, Frederick murmurs.  

The little television screen sits inside the CAD Room. The Computer Aided Dispatch Room is the full term for the room. The television is mostly used for viewing CCTV footage, but if there is other electronic media to view it is also done in here. Steele presses play on the disc of Billy’s Pommel Horse routine.   

Billy appears and walks up to the bucket of chalk. He reaches inside it, gets a handful of the white chalk out of the bucket, dusting his hands together. The plume of chalk dust flies up in the air around him as Billy stands on the spongy floor of the arena. Behind him are other guys awaiting their turn at the Pommel Horse. He looks out into the audience.

Billy grips the rings, and lifts himself up. He starts with the artistic routine, the first of several circular leg swings. He appears to be focusing on the sharp precise movements over the horse. He uses upper body strength, so the momentum will enable his legs to move freely without wobbling. Billy rotates between the pommels and the horse. He completes the rotations, the last motion being a hand stand before flipping off the horse and landing neatly on the mat below. Steele presumes that was a good landing. There is an audience applause.

Standing off to the opposite side of those waiting their turn is who Steele recognises, as Coach Gunther. Gunther has greying hair, but appears youthful with his enthusiasm. He wears a white tracksuit, with a vibrant diagonal red stripe down the centre, which is the team colours. With a half-undone jacket.

“Well done!” booms Gunther, his voice heard from the recording, along with loud cheers from the crowd.

Some female competitors in leotards are queuing next to him, for a different event. Steele sees Imogen in the footage, the friend from the photo, and the same member that had made the complaint about coach Gunther. Imogen is looking on watching the coach’s reaction to Billy.

Coach Gunther squeezes Billy’s shoulder as he walks off the matting. Steele sees Imogen talk to a girl next to her. He can’t hear what is being exchanged but he sees Imogen turn and face away from Coach Gunther as the man walks by. It is a rapid jerk of her torso, that seems like an unnatural movement.

Steele is at the police station. The investigation has been trying to track down Imogen without success. He has been leaving her voicemails, then one morning his phone starts ringing.

“This is Constable Steele.”

“Hi, this is Imogen. You’ve been trying to contact me.”

“I’m sorry about your friend Billy. By all accounts he was a nice guy.”

“Yes, thanks. I wish I could have helped him.”

“You should not blame yourself.”

“I think I know what his suicide note is referring to, you know, THE DEVILS ARE INSIDE THE WALLS?”

Steele thinks his call was to follow up that report from her from five years ago, but getting an answer to the suicide note would be highly useful.

Imogen continues, “My story is similar to what happened to Billy, I saw the way the Coach acted around him, just as he did with me. And I know we were not the only ones.”

“Please, go on,” Steele says.

“I had to leave, I felt too uncomfortable. Billy should have left with me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Would you like counselling? Billy’s family has been offered support.”

“I will be okay. I will not take my own life, I am going to take it back.”

The body camera footage isn’t showing much, it is blank and dark. The microphone is picking up a lot of rustling sounds.  As the officer, riding as a front-seat passenger, is getting ready to open the car door. Aside from work Utes driving past, leaving nearby warehouses, the industrial estate is empty.

“Right so, we’ve got visual confirmation of our suspect. I’m just goin’ over now”. With more rustling the officer gets out of his car. Coach Gunther is walking down a path, away from a building that says Balance Gymnastics, where coach Gunther has worked for the last 15 years.

“Hello I’m Constable Frederick Steele, and this is Constable Sally and we’re just making some enquiries. In relation to the death of Billy: who is connected to this location.  I’m sure you’d be aware-.”

“Yes, absolutely tragic, we’re all trying to come to terms with it,” Gunther answers while he stops walking. He is wearing a tracksuit set and carrying a blue gym bag over his shoulder.  

“Yeah, that’s understandable, look we don’t want to upset you. As I said, we’re just trying to get some questions answered.”  In a non-threatening way: Steele takes a step closer to the suspect. “No one’s in trouble, we just want to chat.”

“Sure. Anything you’d like to know?”

“I’m sure you would be aware that Billy left a suicide note?”

“Yes, the family let me know. We are all very close here at this club.”

“We’re trying to work out what his note meant, and what it’s referring to.”

“I have no idea.”

“What has been your role here Gunther?”

Gunther breathes out. “What can I say? I’m the best coach here. The most qualified and that’s why I’m the senior gymnastics coach. I’ve been involved with gymnastics for 25 years.  I arrive in the morning, about 10 or 11. I oversee everyone here. Once I’m in, I see to, ya’ know, typical administrative tasks, emails, check our staff roster.” Gunther crosses his arms and stiffens slightly where he is standing. His voice remains casual.

“You promote your gym, as fun, challenging-,” Steele says.

“Yeah, the kids come in, they don’t know anyone, they get a chance to socialise. They learn new skills: it’s in a safe environment. We ease them into it. It can sometimes be scary.”

“Are you sure that’s all you do?”  

“Certainly. That’s why we take them through exactly what we want them to do.”

“Imogen was one of your pupils?”

“That one was a good student. Ya know, as I was saying, like for a lot of newbies, she arrived with no confidence, she was shy. You should have seen what she became. I called her my fierce gym fan. Anyway, pupils move on.” Constable Sally nonchalantly nods.

“And obviously it’s your job to ensure they are safe?”

“Absolutely. It is also important to us that they have fun while they learn.”

“You wouldn’t do anything to interfere with that? Like make them feel uncomfortable?”

Pausing before he talks, Gunther answers, “I already told you, no!”

“That’s alright, just asking.” Constable Steele raises his hand reassuringly. Gunther starts walking out to his car, in the parking lot, the officer follows. “There was a complaint from Imogen from 5 years ago, that you walked in on her, while she was getting changed.”

Gunther does not react. “That wasn’t malicious. You know young girls, they like to talk. Inevitably I’m going to be around some pupils getting changed, female and male. But intentionally walking in on them, no.”

“Our information suggests otherwise. It’s not just that complaint, there’s other allegations being made against you. It would serve in your interest, to cooperate, by coming into the station with us.”

“Gosh, why would I wanna’ do something like that? I’ve got to get somewhere. This is a bad time.”

“I must inform you that you do not have to say anything, but anything you say or do, may be given in evidence in court. Do you understand?”

“Why?”

“We believe we have information that would suggest a connection between you and what was written in Billy’s note.”

The officer takes his handcuffs out from his belt. Gunther puts down his gym bag compliantly and puts his hands behind his back. Constable Steele cuffs his hands and leads him to the police car, where Constable Sally opens the back door and Gunther gets in.