by J. M. Peace
62.
The journalist looked too young, like she was on work experience or something. She introduced herself as Isabella. She was pretty, with nice tits, clearly hadn't ever had any kids. But she had a way of looking at you as if she wasn't really listening to your answer.
"So you say the police officer is known around town as being arrogant and obnoxious?"
"Yeah, yeah," Roy answered. He kept reminding himself not to stare at her tits. He shifted in his chair. God, he wanted a smoke. "Well most of them are really."
Although, the camera wasn't actually running, the cameraman had come out with the journo while she talked to them. Getting some background information, she'd said. He was an older bloke, maybe getting ready to retire. He was watching Roy in a cynical sort of way, even though he hadn't said anything since everyone was introduced.
"They're always picking on us," Stan said. "We can't do anything without them pulling us over and doing breath tests. Random my arse... sorry, sorry." Stan held fingers in front of his mouth, as if the bad language had escaped outside of his control.
"So your family is targeted by the local police?" Isabella asked.
"Yep," Stan said, looking to Roy.
"Yep," Roy verified. "Definitely."
Roy had wanted to get Sixty Minutes in. Stan had preferred A Current Affair.
"It's been covered in the news," they'd said. "The police won't talk to us. There's nothing new to say."
In the end Sunday Confidential were the only ones who'd been interested. And it looked like they'd sent out their B-crew. How old was that girl? She looked young enough to be one of Skeeter's girlfriends. Nearly.
"Are there any other times you feel like you've been treated unfairly?"
Roy and Stan exchanged glances.
"Oh, it happens all the time," Roy said.
"All the time," Stan echoed.
"They pull us over all the time. They once said my car was 'defective'." Roy used air quotes. "Because one of the headlights was broken. Even though it wasn't night time."
"Remember that time with the caravan?" Stan said to Roy.
"Yeah. They gave us a ticket because we didn't have those extra mirrors on the car when we were towing. They don't make any difference anyway. Everybody knows that. But they still gave us a ticket."
"Was that..." She glanced at her notepad. "Senior Constable Malachi Morten?" the girl asked.
"Nah," Stan replied. "But they're all as bad as each other."
The cameraman leant forward. "What do people in town think of the police?" he asked.
"No one really likes them," Roy said.
"No one," Stan echoed with a shake of his head.
"Some are better than others," Roy continued. "But they think they run the town."
"But they're the police. That's kind of their job, isn't it?" the cameraman asked.
"Yeah, but..." Stan trailed off.
"So tell me about Angus," Isabella said, changing the topic.
"Angus," Roy said with a sad smile. "Angus was a top bloke. Kind of like a father figure to my kids. They looked up to him. He could kind of connect with them. He'd never had kids of his own so went out of his way for his nephews and nieces. Even though he was older, he knew about all the latest stuff, was always showing us funny clips off the internet and stuff. He was really laid back. He had a bad night that night. It was the anniversary of his wife's death. That was probably the reason he got so fired up. He was just upset. Anyone who knew him knew he wasn't usually that type of bloke. You pretty much never saw him aggro. He always had a big smile on his face."
"Should've seen all the people at his funeral. Everybody loved him," Stan added.
Isabella smiled. "Sounds like someone I would have enjoyed meeting."
"Yep. Great guy," Roy said.
"I'm looking forward to doing the interview, getting the whole story recorded," Isabella said.
Roy nodded. "Me too."
63.
Karen was making dinner when Simon came home. He had worked well past his 4pm shift again.
"What's for dinner?" he asked giving her a quick peck as he passed through the kitchen?
"Chicken satay," she said, gesturing to the empty jar next to the stove top.
The kids were sitting at the kitchen table. Brayden was on a tablet, supposedly doing homework. Piper was writing some sort of essay on the laptop.
"I'm glad you're all here," Simon said, when he returned, now dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. "I've got to talk to you about this death that happened a couple of weeks ago."
Karen put a lid on the frypan and switched it onto low. She sat down at the table with the rest of the family.
Being the wife of a copper had its ups and downs. Mostly it was okay. Especially in a small town like Tannin Bay. Everyone knew who you were and just about everybody had respect for police. Judging by the look on Simon's face, this time being related to cop might be a bad thing.
"So you know Angus Hegarty died here in the watchhouse," Simon said.
She nodded. How could she forget?
"Well, the bosses in Brisbane have ruled it as an accidental death. That means Mort is in the clear. Krista, the new girl, is in a little trouble for not lodging Angus properly. She's just resigned now anyway so she’ll be out of the picture soon. But no one is being held responsible for the actual death. So that's a good thing for the station."
Karen nodded, and the kids followed suit.
"But Angus's family is not happy about that. They think we're trying to cover things up and lie to them. It looks like they're taking the angry way forward. They made some sort of veiled threat."
"Against us?" Karen asked.
Simon nodded once curtly, as if he didn't want to admit it. Karen's stomach churned. This was one of the things that worried her most about being a wife of a copper. She had used to worry about Simon getting hurt or even killed. Her stomach used to drop whenever she heard police sirens in the day or when the phone rang in the middle of the night. Things had changed when Simon had become an officer in charge. It was essentially an office job. She no longer had to worry about Simon getting punched or stabbed with a syringe. It was her family she worried about now. But Simon had been a copper when she fell in love with him. This was the only married life she knew. The ups and downs.
"Dad, are you worried they're going to wreck our car like they did with Coop's?" Brayden asked.
"Yeah, they might do more of that sort of stuff," Simon said. "So make sure you keep your things packed away. Don't leave anything out in the front yard and make sure you lock up under the house."
Brayden shrugged. "Do you really think they'd try to do something here? Right next door to the police station?"
"Probably not," Simon answered. "But just stay alert when you're in town or down the beach. There's a couple of Hegarty kids about your age, isn't there?"
"Skeeter used to be in my class," Piper said. "But I think he's dropped out now. I've never liked him. He's an idiot."
"Okay. So you know who they are. Just keep an eye out for them. That's all. If there's any trouble, make sure you tell me straight away. I doesn't matter if I'm at work. Ring me on my mobile. I want to know, okay?"
Both the kids nodded. Brayden turned straight back to his tablet. Piper watched her father's face for a moment longer, like she was about to say something. Then she abruptly turned back to her laptop. Karen got up and returned to the stove top.
She had been lukewarm about his transfer to Tannin Bay. It hadn't even been a promotion. He'd been a Senior Sergeant in Brisbane. But he was working towards becoming an Inspector and thought regional service would improve his chances. You can get more done, he'd told her. No one looking over your shoulder. He promised they'd get back to Brisbane before Piper started at University. Karen was dubious about the quality of the nearest high school and worried that Piper might not get the marks she needed.
And Karen missed Brisbane. She missed good coffees with old friends. She missed the art
gallery and musicals. She missed the city she grew up in.
Simon came across to her and lowered his voice.
"This will all blow over," he said.
She nodded. She didn't like living next door to the police station and thought it was bad for Simon too. He always seemed to be thinking about work and the stress of it got him down sometimes. On a bad night, she'd listen as he got up multiple times to check the doors were locked. She'd heard what happened that night. She'd heard as the man died. Of course, she hadn't known that's what she was listening to. No one had. But she'd woken to the sound of the man cursing, then she'd heard the moment he got out of the pod, the sound of him hitting the concrete. Then a little later, Krista's terrified screams for help. She hadn't mentioned it to Simon. He hadn't asked. He assumed she’d been asleep. There were some things she shouldn't be exposed to. If ESC asked Simon, he would have told them the rest of his family had slept through it, without even checking with her. They were a police family, they had lived there for a couple of years, you got used to these things. Except you didn't.
She lowered her voice and leant into Simon. "Is this whole death in custody thing going to hurt your chances at promotion?" she asked.
Simon seemed startled by the question and didn't answer immediately.
"No. Not necessarily," he said. "It might even help. If I can manage all of this effectively and professionally, I can probably turn it into a real resume builder," he said. "It's an unusual situation and not many other Senior Sergeants can say that they've had to deal with something like this."
She looked at him, dubiously.
"Really," he said. "It's going okay. ESC's finished their investigation. It's all good."
"I hope so," she whispered. “I want to go back home to Brisbane.”
64.
Brad wiped his hands on a tea towel and grabbed another schooner glass to fill. Business at the Cool Mule was brisk every weekend since the incident, the opposite of what he'd expected. It was as if people were hoping something else would happen and they'd have front row seats this time around. They all came in, locals and out-of-towners alike. Everyone was talking about it, asking him what he knew.
"Sad news about that bloke. Did you know him?" Brad didn't even recognise this latest customer, but clearly he felt comfortable enough to test the waters with Brad.
"Yeah, lovely guy. Wouldn't hurt a fly." Dogger, propped up against the bar answered the question for Brad. Dogger had been in exactly the same spot at the bar the night it had happened. He'd watched the fight with the rest of the boys, cheering as it had spilled out into the street, treating it like some sort of spectator sport. Since he had seen it happen, he now seemed to consider himself a bit of expert on the whole sorry state of affairs. He was just itching to tell anyone at all what he knew about it.
"You knew Angus Hegarty?" the stranger asked, adjusting the brim of his grimy trucker's cap. It was at odds with his polo shirt tucked into belted jeans.
"Yep. He was a top bloke." The man turned to face Dogger. Brad was happy to stay out of the conversation and started to move off down the bar.
But the man in the cap seemed to want to hear it from Brad. "It didn't happen here, did it?" He directed the question at Brad before he could pretend he was out of earshot.
"They had a fight here, but he got killed at the watch house." Taddy had sidled up to the bar and joined the conversation. He'd been there that night too, and seemed to think that made him some sort of minor celebrity.
"So no one really knows what happened," the out-of-towner asked.
"No one. Except the cops. And the dead bloke," Dogger said.
"Do you know the cops who were involved?" the bloke asked.
"No one knows the girl. She's new to town. I've met that Mort guy a few times," Taddy said. "He seemed alright. My missus didn't like him though. Dunno why. She reckoned it served him right, when she heard he was the one in the middle of it all."
Dogger nodded. "He arrested me once. Wilful damage, he reckoned. I accidentally bumped into the front window of the butcher's shop as I was coming home from the pub and it smashed. I think it must have been cracked anyway. I survived the watch house though." He made a fist as a show of strength.
Brad felt compelled to add a little balance to the conversation. "It's not all done and dusted yet. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. Mort might have just been at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Do you know Mort?" the stranger asked.
"Yeah. He's always friendly, usually has a smile on his face. He's helped me out a couple times even when he's been off-duty. I think he's having a hard time of it all at the moment.”
"I should hope he's suffering after what happened," Dogger said.
"Did the cops talk to you?" the man asked Brad.
"Yep. Did a statement. They're all coppers from Brisbane investigating it. So no one can say there was any cover up."
"They’re still cops though," Dogger said.
"They're investigating it though. They have to justify the things they say. They can't just make it up to suit themselves," Brad replied.
"Hope not," said Taddy.
It wasn't the first time that Brad had heard the same dubious tone of voice.
The stranger nodded sagely.
65.
Piper Cornell got onto the school bus with the type of world-weary sigh a seventeen year old didn't have the right to utter, then slid into the seat next to her friend Tayla. She flicked her long black plait over her shoulder as she sat down, heavily.
"Are we there yet?" she said to Tayla by way of greeting.
Tayla rolled her eyes. "It's so unfair. We should still be in bed."
Tayla could probably stay in bed and skip school. She didn't really need to finish Year 12, since she only planned on going into hospitality anyway. Her dad had already lined her up a job at the Cool Mule but insisted she complete Year 12. Piper had bigger plans than that. She wanted to go to Uni next year, so needed not only to finish, but to get good marks too. It was so lame that the Tannin Bay school only went to grade ten. It took nearly three quarters of an hour each way to get to the high school in the next town, by the time they'd made all the other stops.
"It's only one more year," her mother kept reminding her. But then what would happen? She wanted to go to Uni and that was even further away. Dad wasn't going anywhere till he got a promotion. Who knows how long that would take? Her brother was in Year 10 so he didn't have to make the bus trip yet.
It wasn’t too bad, with Tayla to chat with. But she'd rather get the sleep-in. The bus stopped and Skeeter Hegarty got on board. Piper always went out of her way to ignore him. Even before all the trouble with his family in town now. She'd put up with him calling her 'Piglet' for years. His younger brother bullied her younger brother too. It was minor though, just something you ignored. She was bigger than that anyway.
"In order to be hurt by something someone says to you, you have to have respect for the person saying it," her mum had told her a long time ago. Piper reminded herself of that when the teasing grated.
She hadn't seen Skeeter on the bus in weeks, and thought he'd dropped out of school. But here he was, in uniform with a backpack on. He grinned at her as he walked past. "Morning, piglet," he said, then slid into the empty seat behind her.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled, but she refused to acknowledge him. That's what Mum had suggested. Just ignore him as best you can, she'd said when she and Dad had given them a lecture on the Hegartys. So there was some sort of trouble between them and the police. Whatevs. It had nothing to do with her anyway. So what that her dad was a cop?
Tayla gave her a small smile. She leaned across.
"What stinks?" she whispered loudly to Piper and squeezed her nose between her fingers. They both giggled, deliberately.
Maybe he wasn't going to school. Maybe he was just trying to get a free bus ride to the next town by pretending to go to school. That's the sort of thing he would do.
; She and Tayla chatted the rest of the way in. Tayla hated Skeeter too, and it went without saying they would pretend he wasn't even there. It wasn't until they were nearly at the school that it happened.
Mid sentence Piper's head was yanked back by her hair. She let out a little shriek and pulled forward as an automatic reaction. The next sound was the unmistakeable snip of scissors. Her head jerked sharply as her hair came free.
She turned around and screamed at the sight of Skeeter holding a large pair of scissors in one hand and her plait in the other. He laughed like someone crazy.
"What the hell is going on?" The bus driver pulled to the side of the road so she could better assess what was going on in her bus.
Skeeter leapt up, the backpack slung across his shoulder, and the plait clenched in his hand. He pushed the bus door release and jumped out. There he stood in front of the bus whooping. He was swinging the plait around his head like a lasso. He swung his hips in time, grinning like a maniac.
"Go show your dad your new haircut," he shouted before running away.
Piper ran her hand across the ragged new edge of her hair and began to cry.
66.
"It's assault! It's got to be assault!”
Karen had driven out to the school as soon as she'd heard and brought Piper home. They'd gone to the hairdresser who had tidied the hacked hair into a neat bob. But Piper had still been inconsolable and had been holed up in her bedroom with loud music since they'd arrived home.
"Of course it's assault! No one's arguing that. But it's not going anywhere without a complainant," Simon replied.
"So Piper has to... what? Make a statement? Go to court?"
"Yep. Pretty much," Shane said.
"There's no talking to her now. She's still so upset. I don't think it's just having all her lovely long hair cut off. I think it's the shock. That someone would attack her like that for no reason, other than she's your child. The child of a police officer. He's been bullying her since we got here. She's scared of him."