by J. M. Peace
Mort gestured to liquid soap, tissues and ear buds on the table and grinned. "I don't know, it seemed like a good idea to the time."
"Ah, don't be shy Mort. You just wanted me to rub your silky smooth head, didn't you?" Piero teased.
"I didn't see you up there getting a haircut, K."
Krista glanced between them.
"K is my nickname," Piero explained. "My surname is Katsaros. So I'm Sergeant K."
"Special K, more like it," Mort added.
"Yeah, I'm special," Piero said, smiling and stretching his arms wide as if drawing attention in to himself. He looked quite young to be a sergeant. Krista guessed he might be in his early thirties. But of course it was easier to get a promotion in an out-of the-way place like this rather than Brisbane.
"But enough about me. Krista, where's your car parked? You're staying at the barracks, aren't you?" Piero asked.
"Yes. I'm parked out the front."
"Welcome to your new home," Mort said, gesturing with a flourish at the barracks. "Bring your car around. I'll help you unload."
"There's not much to bring in really," Krista said. "They said it was furnished?"
Piero and Mort exchanged glances.
"Yeah, it's furnished, if your standards aren't too high," Mort said. "Come on in and have a look around anyway."
Piero tipped back the last of his beer. "If you don't need a hand, I'll leave you to it. The wife will be wondering what happened to me."
"Your wife knows you well enough to guess you'll be gasbagging somewhere," Mort replied.
"I'll tell her you said 'hi'." Piero left with a smile and wave.
Krista followed Mort into the barracks.
"This our lounge room and kitchen. The bathroom’s through there.” He pointed to the left. “There's two bedrooms you can choose from. No-one else living here at the moment except me. I recommend the back room." He opened a door at the end of a short hallway. "It's probably the quietest."
Krista looked in. It was a small dark room. It smelt musty and vaguely like body odour. Mort opened the curtains and window which helped marginally. There was a single bed and a wooden cupboard. Paint was peeling of the door and there was an unidentifiable stain on the brown carpet.
"There's a desk and chair in one of the other rooms," Mort said. "We could move that in too, if you like."
"It's fine." Krista said. She tried to picture it with her bedspread and a couple of posters on the wall. It was still grim.
"It will be alright once it's been aired and you've got your own stuff in here. Bring your car around. I'm just going to grab a shower and try to get rid of some more of this blue then I'll give you a hand."
"I'm fine. It'll be fine,” she said. Krista kept repeating this over in her head as she moved into her new home.
5.
Krista and Mort sat outside the barracks with a beer each, Krista's second since arriving less than an hour ago. Each sip watered down the anxious feeling deep in her gut.
"It's hot today," she said, as if that was an excuse for a second beer. She took a big sip of and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"It's hot every day," Mort replied. "Beer drinking weather. And that's the way I like it." He took a glug from his stubbie and gave an exaggerated sigh.
"Tannin Bay looked nice when I was driving in. The bay looks very pretty," Krista said. "Is it good for swimming there?"
"There's some lovely spots," Mort said. "I could show you around. It looks like we're on the same shifts for a bit. I think they've appointed me as your unofficial tour guide for town. I can show you all the things you need to know to survive Tannin Bay."
Krista gave a half-laugh. "I hope there's not too much to survive."
"No," Mort replied with a smile. "On school holidays there's a bit more happening. But on the whole, it's pretty quiet."
"Quiet?" Krista said. "That's all I’ve had in my training year. I was at The Gap in Brisbane till now. My biggest pinch was a guy for four lots of graffiti. Every time I'd see anyone else from my academy intake, they'd be talking about assaults and fatalities and pursuits. And I'd be like 'I pinched a shop lifter'. So there's your warning. I haven't had many hands-on jobs. I feel like I've still got a bit to learn." Krista exhaled. It felt like a confession.
"That's alright," Mort replied. "Everyone's got a bit to learn, no matter what stage of their career they're at. There’s always something to learn. It's the one's who think they know everything that you have to watch out for."
Krista nodded. "Yeah, I've come across a couple of them already." She took a sip of her stubbie. Very refreshing. It was after 5pm and still topped thirty degrees.
"So did you want to come north, or was it one of the old 'it's the Queensland Police, we can send you anywhere' type of transfers?" Mort asked.
"I would have been happy staying in Brisbane, but I kind of guessed they'd send me somewhere. I'm young and single, I've got nothing tying me down. Just had to pack my car up and start driving. Easy. It should be me being sent away rather than someone with family and kids." She picked at the label on the beer bottle. The condensation made it slippery.
"What did you do before you went to the Academy?" he asked.
"I was in IT, website development and maintenance."
"Sounds interesting."
"Not really. That's one of the reasons I decided to become a cop. I wanted a change of pace."
"And here you are in Tannin Bay."
She smiled. So far so good. "What about you? How long have you been here?" Krista asked.
"I've been here about eight years now. I'm in no hurry to move, it suits me here. I was out at Toowoomba before this. I broke up with my missus so I was looking for something a long way away. Warm and beachside appealed to me after Toowoomba. I like it here. I prefer a small town too. You're part of the community. You get to know people, other than just cops."
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
"That's one of the reasons I did this," he said, putting his hand up to his head, which was still tinged blue despite his shower. "It will need no explanation. Everyone knows why I'm a... slightly blue... skinhead. And everyone knows it was done in good humour for a good cause. I wouldn't have done this is Toowoomba. People would look at me funny around town." He laughed. "You're probably the only person I'd have to explain it to. And look what sort of first impression I made on you."
It was Krista's turn to laugh. "You've more than made up for it now, by bringing me beer and making me feel welcome."
"How about I get us pizza for dinner and make you promise not to mention what Piero and I were doing when you first saw us."
"Its a deal."
They walked into to the main street, a few minutes away, to a small pizza shop. It was still hot by the time they got it back to the barracks. They talked about whatever came to mind until the pizza and beer were gone. Krista felt relaxed. The build-up of tension over the past weeks since she had found out about the transfer had dissipated now that she had actually arrived. And the beers helped too. She knew she should make up her bed and unpack her things, but she felt lazy and comfortable, drinking with her new colleague and housemate.
"You and me are on tomorrow at 6am," Mort told her. "We expected to see you on Friday. You should have had the weekend to settle in before being hit with the early start. You could probably start at eight, seeing as how it's your first shift. The boss would be fine with that."
"No. I'll start at six. I don't mind the morning shift. I probably won't sleep well tonight anyway."
"Yeah, sorry about the room.”
“No, it’s not that. I’ve been a bit worried about moving up here,” she said.
“We’ve got a good crew here,” Mort said. “I bet you settle in quick."
She smiled as she rose to her feet. "Thanks for the beer and pizza anyway.”
"My pleasure," he said. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks."
Krista retreated to her room to put clean sh
eets over the old mattress. The rest of the packing away would have to wait until after her shift. Her first shift at her new station.
The transfer could turn out to be the best thing that had happened to her.
6.
Krista's nerves were eased by the knowledge she did not have to walk into the police station for the first time by herself. She was ready much too early and sat in the lounge room, flicking through the morning shows on the telly while she waited for Mort.
He'd given her a copy of the roster. They were working the same shifts for the next week and a half. Three morning shifts and seven nights, followed by four days off. Krista wasn't sure if she was looking forward to the days off or not. She couldn't help considering how long those days off would seem if she was just hanging around the barracks by herself. Mort was friendly though. It was a good start.
He came out at 5:40am.
"We'll go over now, if you're ready. The night shift will be pleased to slip home early," he said.
"Sure." A good way to start off on the right foot with new colleagues.
"Okay." Mort led the way from the front door of the barracks to the back door of the station. It was a short walk.
"Is that the watch house?" Krista asked as they passed a squat grey building linked to the station by a breezeway.
"Yep. It doesn't see too much use. Mostly just drunks sleeping it off."
He swiped into the back door with a white plastic card. "We'll have to wait until Anita - she's our admin officer - or the boss to start at eight to get you keys and a locker."
Krista had her kit bag swung over her shoulder, containing her gun as well. She probably should have asked to lock it into the gun safe when she arrived yesterday but she had forgotten and was unsure now if she was going to get into trouble for this oversight.
Mort called out 'hello' as they entered the station and followed the answers down into the meal room.
"Morning," he said, smiling at two constables sitting at the table.
They both hooted. "Nice haircut!"
Mort made a show of rubbing the top of his head.
"I just asked for a little off the top and this is what they did to me," he quipped. “Krista, this is Michi and Brian, two of Tannin Bay's finest."
"Hello." Krista shook their hands, and Michi gestured that she should sit down at the table with them.
"Thank goodness," she said. "A little more oestrogen around the station. We're a little bit outnumbered here. I was so pleased when I heard they were sending another woman."
"I've only been here a few months myself," Brain added. "It's a good station. You'll like it."
"I see all that blue paint washed off," Michi said to Mort.
"Mostly. I'm pretty sure there's still some in my ear. You were there?" he asked.
"Yeah. It was a great afternoon. I even won a meat tray in the raffle," Michi replied. "Looks like they raised nearly $4000 all up for cancer research."
Mort nodded. "You should have done it too," he said, his hand going to his bald head.
"Me?" Michi flicked at the side of her short hair with her hand. "Hardly worth the trouble."
"Anything to handover?" he asked Michi.
"No. Nothing really. We picked up a pissy driving home from the pub. That's about it."
"That's a shame. I was hoping everyone would do the right thing in the spirit of the occasion," Mort said.
"It was only one," Michi replied.
"If that's all, you guys might as well bugger off home then," Mort said.
Brian glanced at his watch. "Perfect," he said.
Neither of them wasted any time in packing up and saying goodbye.
"Did you have breakfast?" Mort asked Krista when it was just the two of them.
"Yes," Krista said, surprised.
"I usually have something here at the station on the early shift," he replied. "We'll kit up first, just in case. But we rarely get called away from breakfast."
He took her into the locker room. "There's an empty locker there," he said, pointing to a half open door. "There'll be keys. Anita will know. I think she had everything lined up ready for you on Friday. You can just put your bag in there in the meantime."
Krista slid her bag into the locker. Mort was buckling his tactical vest on and she followed suit.
She turned to him. "Um. I forgot to put my Glock in the safe last night,” she confessed.
Mort shrugged his shoulders. "Have you got it with you now?"
She nodded, pulling the black carry box out of her kit bag.
"No harm done," he said. "We had one guy turn up, and he'd forgotten his gun completely. He'd left it behind in the safe at his old station. In Brisbane. That was a bit more of a problem." He smiled, giving her an instant sense of relief.
She followed him into the equipment room. He gave her the combination for the gun safe, and showed her how they checked out the car, Tasers and equipment.
“The boss is a bit of a stickler for procedure,” Mort warned.
"What's the Senior like?" Krista asked.
"Oh, he's alright. He came here hoping it would improve his chances for promotion. A little bit of regional service. He keeps coming up with new 'initiatives'." Mort used air quotes. "Things he hopes will look good on a resume but aren’t really any help to us. If you don't argue with him though, he's fine."
"My last boss was just a few months out from retirement," Krista said. "He'd lost interest completely. He'd just show up because he had to. Someone caught him sleeping in his office one time. It was the sergeants who ran the station."
"We've got great sergeants here," Mort said. "You've met Piero. Then there's Coops – Dion Cooper. He's easy to get on with. Then there's John. Very much by the book, but will do anything to help you out. You'll meet everyone in due course. It's a great crew."
"So far, so good," she said with a smile. If everyone was a nice as Mort, she’d never look back.
7.
Angus Hegarty lifted his head too quickly and banged it on the inside of the bonnet under which he'd been leaning.
"Ah, shit," he said, laughing at himself.
"Watch it, Uncle Angus," Skeeter said. He grinned. "You'll dent the bonnet."
Angus gave him a gentle cuff across the shoulder. "Do you want me to help you or not?"
The car was a old Ford Falcon, straight out of the eighties. God knows where Skeeter had got it from. It had just been parked out the front of their compound when Angus had got up that morning. The red paint was peeling off the roof and bonnet and the front bumper was missing.
"Does your dad know about this?" he asked Skeeter.
"Nah. He won't mind. He was the one who taught me how to drive anyway."
Angus didn't probe any further. That was one of the reasons they'd moved out here, wasn't it? So they had their own space, weren't jammed in suburbia on a patch of grass with everyone minding their business.
Skeeter was sixteen now, that was a man in his books anyway. Angus had started work as an apprentice at the same age.
He motioned for Skeeter to try to start the car. The key clicked and nothing happened.
“I don’t get it. It was working okay last night,” Skeeter said.
Angus leaned in the open driver's window, eyes combing over the dashboard.
"Ya clown," he said, turning a lever. "You've left the bloody headlights on. It'll be the battery. Go out to the shed and grab some jumper leads. We'll get you running."
Skeeter started to run off, stopped suddenly and turned. "You're the best, Unky." He disappeared into the shed.
Angus started up his own car and moved it so it was nose to nose with the Falcon. They hooked the batteries up and the next time Skeeter turned the key, it spluttered into life. At the sound of it revving, the front door to Roy's place flew open.
"Who does this piece of shit belong too?" Roy called over the noise of the clattering engine as he strode across.
"Morning Roy." Angus greeted his brother with a smile.
> "It’s mine, dad," Skeeter replied. "I got it for $80 from Dylan. Sick, isn't it?"
"Sounds pretty sick," Roy said to Angus, as the motor skipped and spluttered.
Angus laughed. "Yeah, I don't think it's going to get too far."
"It's not hot, is it?” Roy said suddenly, pointing his index finger at his son. “You know better than to buy stolen stuff, boyo."
"Nah. It was Dylan’s paddock basher but now he's got his granddad's old car so he doesn't want it."
"Stay on the dirt roads, okay?" Roy said to Skeeter.
"Yeah, dad," Skeeter replied. He revved the engine. His mother opened the front door of their house to lean out and shake her head at the noise.
Skeeter moved off slowly down the driveway, putting on his right hand blinker. A couple of metres before the junction with the road, he hit the accelerator. The back end of the car slid out, kicking up a cloud of dust, before the tyres gripped and the car shot away.
Roy turned to Angus. "Did you teach him how to do a slewie?"
"Nah," Angus said. "He's sixteen. He's gunna have worked it out for himself."
8.
They'd driven the length and breadth of Tannin Bay, reaching as far as the northern boundary of their division before the first job came.
"VKR to 420."
Although Mort was driving so making the radio calls should have been her task, Krista didn't try to stop him when he grabbed the receiver.
"420, go ahead."
"There's a job for you at Endeavour Road. Dangerous driving."
"Go with details."
Krista readied a pen to take details on the log in front of her.
"Report comes from a driver delivering meals on wheels. Reports that an unregistered red coloured car was fishtailing on Endeavour Road and nearly hit her. She stated the driver looked very young. He was male."
"Show us proceeding," Mort said, before hanging the radio up. "Endeavour Road hardly warrants being called a road. It'll be a blockie having a bit of fun."
"What do you mean?" Krista asked.