by J. M. Peace
"Gloves on," Mort instructed. "He's not going to do anything to you. He just feels cold. And the flesh goes kind of hard."
Mort was right. It's not like the dead man was going to do anything to her. Krista couldn't explain why this was bothering her so much.
"C'mon." Mort was still watching her. His blue eyes looked hooded, a combination of dawn and the shade of the trees.
She extracted latex gloves from the pouch on her vest. She pulled them on and without letting herself really think about what she was doing, she grabbed the man's wrist, picked it up a few centimetres and let it drop back into his lap.
She withdrew immediately from the car and sat down next to Mort.
He smiled at her. "There you go, you didn't even leave fingerprints. And when the ambos come, if they need a hand getting him out of the car, we'll help, yeah?"
"Yeah," Krista said. The spell had been broken. "What about forensics? What are they going to do?"
"They'll just take some photos in situ. It's not suspicious. I know who he is. Local druggie. He shacked up with another local druggie. They had a baby but it died a few weeks ago. It was ruled as cot death. But they all slept in the same bed, so someone probably rolled on the baby when they were stoned. He didn't deal well with it. There's been a lot of domestic violence between them since then. I got into his phone. He sent a message to his missus. It's basically a suicide note. Did you see the bong and the whiskey bottle on the passenger's seat?"
Krista shook her head. She got up and walked around to the passenger's side to have a look. She looked in the back seat too. There was a baby seat still strapped in the back. She returned to her spot on the low fence next to Mort.
"Kind of sad, isn't it?"
"Yeah. His missus is going to be devastated. Cal starts work at eight. He’s going to go straight around and do the death knock. We'll be tied up with this end of things for a while. Have you done a death knock yet?"
She shook her head. She really hadn't done much of anything in her first year.
"They'd be pretty rough, I reckon," she said.
Mort shrugged. "You can't take these things personally. Don't put any emotional investment into it. Do your job. Be professional. Be kind even. But they're not your problems."
"Good advice," Krista said. "Thanks, Mort."
He smiled. "You know he's done it all wrong."
The iron bands around her chest loosened. She half-smiled back. "What do you mean?"
"You shouldn't gas yourself. No forethought. You pretty much wreck the car you're in. Your next-of-kin won't want to keep the car, and it's hard to re-sell at a time most families need extra money. Also, the pathologist once told me, you lose the use of your body before you fall unconscious. So if you change your mind at the last minute, it's too late."
"Really? Is that true?"
"Can't say for sure, but not about to try it for myself."
Krista smiled. A couple of minutes ago, she wouldn't have believed anyone saying she'd be finding death funny. They'd talked about black humour as a coping mechanism when she was at the academy.
"Gassing is better than hanging yourself though. If you get the knot wrong, you strangle yourself instead of snapping your neck."
"You've given this some thought?" Krista asked.
"Oh, I'm sure you've already had some weird conversations in police cars in the middle of the night. Cops see different things, we talk about different things," he said with a grin.
She half-smiled back, warming to the discussion.
"Anyway, after lengthy debate with colleagues, we decided the best way would be to jump off a cliff," Mort announced.
She knitted her eyebrows together. "That's the best way, you reckon?"
"Don't you love rollercoasters? If you leap off a cliff, you’d get that enormous rush of falling, plus you've got time to have your life flash before your eyes. That's got to be just awesome. Then there's no pain. And if you do it from the right spot, you definitely won't survive. There'd be nothing worse than wanting to die, then waking up and finding you've even stuffed that up and now you're a quadriplegic or something."
"Yeah, that would suck," Krista said.
They both looked up at the growl of an engine announced an approaching vehicle. A police ute with a pod on the back turned into the carpark.
"Great," Mort said, rising to his feet. "Forensics are here."
11.
"Alright, we've got Brian, Jamie, Michi and her husband Bill, plus Piero and his wife will come if they can get a babysitter. That’ll make for a fun night. We'll have some dinner, maybe a couple of drinks and home early to be ready for the morning. A quick shift and we're on nights. Then it'll be work and sleep and not much else."
Mort was always keen on any social activity. That was the one thing he missed about his failed marriage - having company. The simple companionship of sharing a meal with someone or watching television together. He'd been pleased when he'd heard there was a new officer moving into the barracks. The fact that it was a 'she' was a bonus. And then when he'd laid eyes on Krista, he'd been completely caught off guard and not just because Piero had a cotton bud in his ear at the time. He'd felt a tingle of electricity he hadn't felt in a long time. The more he got to know Krista, the sharper that tingle was becoming.
That had been one of his motivations for organising a dinner out. He wanted to show her a fun time in town, and get to know her a bit better, away from work and the dingy barracks. Tannin Bay felt like home to him and he wanted it to feel like home to her as soon as possible.
Krista emerged from her bedroom dressed like she was going out in Brisbane rather than Tannin Bay. She was wearing a dress and heels, and even Mort could tell she was wearing makeup. The smell of roses preceded her up the hallway. She looked stunning, much too overdressed for dinner at the local steakhouse. He didn't want to tell her, wanted her to keep looking exactly like she did right now.
She evaluated him in his shorts and polo shirt, which suddenly didn't seem enough to him.
"Oh, I'm a bit overdressed, aren't I?" she said.
"No, no. You look great, fantastic."
"I guess it's not like a night out in the city," she said with a laugh. Mort's eyes followed her as she walked back to her bedroom. She came out again. The heels were replaced by sandals, her sparkly necklace was gone and her hair was loosely tied back. He noticed every detail.
"Do I look more like a local now?" she asked.
"No. And thank god for that!"
She laughed. He gestured to the door with a flourish of his hand. "After you, ma'am."
Callum and Brian were already at the restaurant. Mort wished one of the other women was there too. He'd wanted Krista to sit next to one of the other women, with him on the other side of her. Brian was single, and although Cal had a girlfriend in Rockhampton, he was always on the prowl when she wasn't around. He didn't trust them not to make a move on her. They rose to their feet as Mort and Krista came in, all sets of eyes on Krista. Fortunately, Michi and Bill were right behind them. Krista seemed glad on another woman's company, and Mort managed to get the seating how he wanted without being too obvious about it.
"So, what do you think of the barracks?" Brian asked Krista, once everyone was settled and drinks had been ordered.
"Well, it's good value for money," she replied. They all laughed. Free rent was the big positive of staying in the barracks.
"I stayed there when I first moved up," Brian said. "Much too noisy for me. Cars coming and going all night. And all day when you're on night work. I thought, what's the point of living in a small quiet town if you're not getting any peace and quiet. I rented a house. It's only a few minutes from the station, but a whole other world away."
"Sounds nice. Is rent expensive up here?" Krista asked.
"Not too bad. I'll rent you a room at my place if you're interested," Brian said with a broad smile.
"Yeah?" Krista asked.
"Let her settle in, enjoy the free rent, hey," Mort sa
id, adding a smile as well. "What did you think of the Colonel?" he asked quickly, to change the topic.
"I didn't know what to make of him," Krista said. "Seemed friendly and helpful enough."
"He'd be a lot friendlier to me too, if I looked like you did," Callum quipped.
Krista laughed uneasily.
Michi nodded. "You might as well make the most of it. It can be a bit of a boy's club at the station."
The men at the table all made noises of disagreement at this.
Michi rolled her eyes. "You'll see for yourself," she said, leaning in towards Krista.
It was a pleasant evening. Brian left by 9pm as he had to start his last night shift at 10pm. Krista and Mort would be the ones to take over from him at 6am the next morning, so Mort made sure he escorted her home by 10pm. He could have tried to persuade her to stay out, go for a drink with him. But there was plenty of time for late nights. It's not like she was going anywhere.
12.
Krista's phone pinged to signal a message received. She glanced at the screen and smiled. She was in her room, in her pyjamas, just considering whether she should go to bed or go out to the lounge room. She could hear the TV on. Mort was still up.
It had been a fun evening and it had really put her mind at ease. Her trepidation at being alone and in a strange place was ebbing away. She could imagine living and working here now. She could imagine who she might become friends with, what she might do in her spare time. She could imagine taking each job as it came, knowing her colleagues would have her back. And she could imagine spending a whole lot more time with Mort. He was an absolute sweetheart.
She sat down on her bed and swiped her phone to reply to the message.
"Things are going really well." She added a smiley face. "How about you?"
"Great here. Super busy. Thinking of you."
Krista hadn't lied when she said she was single. She and Ben had been broken up for a while. Just over a year and a half. Shortly after she had started at the Academy.
"People are nice. But the barracks are..." She inserted the vomiting emoji.
They'd met at university, both studying the same thing. They'd started out as study buddies and ended up in a relationship. Ben had a real flair for IT but Krista’s heart just wasn’t in it. Ben started his own business almost immediately after graduation. He had called it 'their' business but Krista acted like an employee. She felt like she was just going through the motions – sometimes in the bedroom as well as in the business. A friend's boyfriend had joined the police and when she'd chatted with him one night at a party, it planted the seed of an idea in her head. She went to a recruiting seminar and trawled through the information on the police website. When she'd announced her intention to apply, Ben had been angry about it. She hadn't expected that reaction, had thought he would support her.
"Do you miss home?" his reply came.
"I miss Grover." She had shed a tear when giving the family dog a last pat. He was an old boy and she wasn't sure how long it would be before she'd make the trip south to Brisbane again.
Ben had argued bitterly with her when she was accepted into the academy. In hindsight, he’d probably just been blindsided. He’d thought they were happy, and everything was going well, even though she always had an excuse for not moving in with him. He tried hard to talk her out of her career change but she’d stayed firm. Then after her first month at the academy, he accused her of cheating on him. There was only one other woman in her squad at the academy. Of course her conversations were going to revolve around men, and men he had never met on top of that. It didn't mean she was cheating on him. But his accusation had provided a convenient reason for Krista to break up with him.
"I miss you xx."
Krista swallowed hard when she read the message.
Ben had apologised immediately after she’d broken up with him. She didn’t take him back, so he settled for sticking around as her friend. He’d turned up to her police graduation with flowers and had helped her pack.
She didn't answer that text. It wasn't a topic she wanted to discuss right now. She was looking forward, not backwards. Her future was here in Tannin Bay, for the next three years anyway. She wanted to embrace it, come to grips with her career as a police officer. The last thing she wanted was to be pining for an ex in Brisbane.
Her phone pinged again. "There's a job for you in Brisbane any time you want it."
God, she’d only just arrived. No way was she turning around yet. It was sweet of him, but she’d be stinking of failure of she crawled back to him. She sent the thumbs-up emoji so as not to appear rude, then put her phone on silent and went to bed.
13.
"You should stay here at the barracks," Mort said, as they sat down at the cheap laminex table for dinner.
"Why? Do you like my cooking that much?" Krista said as she handed him a bowl of chow mien. It was nearly 9pm but they started night work at 10pm. So really, it could be seen as breakfast as well.
"Yes, obviously it’s all about me," Mort said, grinning as he stuck a fork into the food. "But seriously, why would you go anywhere else and have to pay rent? That’s the good thing about being a free agent. There's no one else to worry about. You can rough it in the barracks and save a stack of money."
Krista considered this. "I think I like the idea of getting away from work when I'm not here. It must get noisy here sometimes."
"Yeah, occasionally we get dickheads in the watch house at night. And sometimes some of our colleagues reckon they need to turn the sirens on straight away instead of waiting till they get onto the road. But it’s not often."
"I was thinking of getting a dog too," Krista added.
"You can have a dog here," Mort said, his face lifting.
"I can't have a dog here at the barracks. There's no yard. Where would I keep him?"
"There's a spare bedroom, the dog could live there. And when you go to work, you could take the dog across to the station."
Krista wasn't entirely certain if he was joking or not.
"One of the firies, he's got a dog he takes into the station," Mort said, as if this was proof that it was acceptable. "Everybody would love having a dog around the station."
"I don't think the boss would," Krista said. "No. Poor dog, hanging out in the barracks and the station. You need a yard for a dog."
Mort shrugged. "Get a guinea pig instead."
"Tenure's three years. I'm not living in the barracks for three years," Krista said. "I might as well start looking around now."
"Don't rush it. Stay here. Make the most of the opportunity. Save some money. You can really get ahead. You don't have any furniture, do you?"
"No. I was still living with my parents in Brisbane."
"So furnishing a house would cost you a fair bit."
Krista shrugged. "I was thinking of renting a room off someone. I might have a look at where Brian's living. And I'm going to buy a new bed anyway. That one I'm using smells funny."
"So get a new bed, stay here and I'll be your house mate."
"Well," Krista said, "I'm not going to rush into anything."
"It's nice to have some company," Mort said. Their eyes met and he smiled. He had kind eyes. "Good company too. Not some smelly old bloke. Someone I can talk to."
Krista smiled. Was he flirting with her? She was used to guys being friendly to her, and knew some of the time it was just because of her looks. It was sometimes hard to sort out the ones who actually liked her, as opposed to the ones who just wanted to try to get in her pants. If Mort fell into the latter category, then the sooner she moved out of here, the better. But she had to admit to herself that she felt a little buzz when he smiled at her.
14.
The man stumbled over his feet as he staggered out the door of the pub. He reached out to grab something to steady himself on, grabbing at the cut-out of a donkey with the martini glass. Propped on a simple wooden stand, it was no match for him. The man and donkey both toppled onto the footpath. A
young man following reached down, offering his hand to the far older man on the ground.
"Come on," he said, helping the other man to his feet. "Let's go back inside. I'll get you a drink."
"Fuck off," the man replied, shaking himself free of the young man's grip. "I'm gunna teach you some respect." His words were slurred, and he dropped the 't' off the end of 'respect'.
Slowly, swaying lightly, the older man raised his clenched hands in front of his face.
"I'm not scared of you," he said, jabbing with one fist.
"Okay then," the younger man said with a sigh. “If that’s the way you want it.” He shaped up.
They circled each other, shuffling and swaying. It was apparent that alcohol would be an opponent for both men. Catcalls and cheers went up from the pub as the other patrons came to the doors and windows. A fight was good free entertainment.
It was the older man who swung first, a wobbly attempt at a hook. The younger man shifted backwards away from the flail, grabbed the other man's wrist and pulled. The older man staggered forward. As he lost his balance, he clutched at the younger man. They both toppled to the ground.
The younger man gave a moan as the wind was knocked out of him by his opponent landing on top of him. They grappled on the ground, neither one getting the upper hand. The younger man rolled free and up onto his knees. He pushed the other man away and hauled himself to his feet. He didn't take advantage of having the upper hand though. He balled his hands into fists and raised them too high in front of his face, waiting while the other man clambered to his feet again. It looked like they were going to keep it fair.
The publican of the Cool Mule looked out the window. He didn't intervene in the fight but at least he did pull out his phone and call the police while he watched.
15.
Krista really didn't like driving paddy wagons. They were always the same - you couldn't see out the back properly because of the pod on the back so they were a shit of a thing to park. She was always petrified she'd run into something. But Mort had driven this morning, so it was her turn. She'd get to know her way around town better if she was in the driver's seat anyway. Mort had insisted they take the wagon tonight. It was only a Wednesday but there was a footy final on. He reckoned there was a chance they'd have to lock some drunk up.