Red Mist

by Angus McLean

  Tears were rolling down Dan’s cheeks now and he finally looked away, wiping angrily at his eyes. Buck felt his own eyes prickling, threatening to break out.

  ‘It guts me, mate,’ Dan whispered, ‘I’m in bits and I feel so inadequate.’ He shook his head. His sadness was a living beast in the room. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  Buck stayed silent, letting Dan get himself under control. Finally Dan wiped his eyes again, took a shuddering breath, and looked at him. He gave a short, bitter laugh.

  ‘Sorry mate,’ he said with a weak smile, ‘that was a bit out of order.’

  ‘It’s okay mate,’ Buck said sincerely, ‘whatever happens, you will be okay.’ He stepped over and put his hand on Dan’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. ‘You guys will be okay.’

  Dan nodded. ‘Thanks mate.’ He turned to the fridge and opened the door. ‘I needed to get that off my chest.’ He tilted a bottle at Buck. ‘Milk?’

  Buck moved towards the bench and Dan looked past him. The hallway outside the kitchen had windows all the way along, and the sun was streaming in. In the reflection he saw Hugh Kennedy standing in the hallway, to the side of the kitchen door.

  Kennedy was looking straight back at him, and had obviously heard the conversation. Dan felt his stomach drop. Kennedy broke the stare, turned, and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thursday

  There had been nobody home at the Fenton house when Dan and Buck went around. It was frustrating to have a suspect ID’d for a serious offence, but not being able to get their hands on him.

  They diverted to the BP at Mangere Bridge, getting half price coffees while they fuelled up.

  Dan binned the lid from his cappuccino and took a sip, waiting while the servo attendant-he couldn’t bring himself to call them baristas-prepared Buck’s coffee. He glanced across to the counter, where Buck waited to pay with the fleet card.

  His colleague gestured to him and Dan put a finger to his lips. Sure enough, his ‘tash had caught a cloud of froth. He licked it off and wiped the moustache clean. He was getting more used to having facial hair, and Molly didn’t seem to mind it. Most of the boys were itching for a shave, complaining of the tickliness, the prickliness, the sheer inconvenience of having a mo.

  Dan didn’t mind it. In fact, he quite liked it. He was pretty sure the slug was going to stay.

  Buck paid, the second coffee arrived, and they pulled out of the forecourt.

  ‘It’s been a funny old week,’ Dan mused, slipping on his Oakleys. They were getting battered and could do with being replaced.

  ‘In what way?’ Buck drove with one hand and drank with the other.

  ‘I thought I was going to really clash heads with Kennedy,’ Dan replied. ‘He’s definitely different.’

  ‘Not wrong there, mate.’

  ‘But even with everything going on, y’know, or maybe because of it, I’ve come to the realisation that I need to just accept that’s the way he is and get on with it.’ He shrugged. ‘He ain’t gunna change so there’s no point me getting all bent outta shape about it. Just gotta find a way to work with him somehow.’

  Buck gave him a dubious glance. ‘That’s mighty big of you,’ he observed. ‘Did you read that somewhere?’

  Dan frowned at him. ‘No, why?’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like you, that’s all.’

  Dan harrumphed. ‘No idea what you mean.’

  ‘Is this you being all ambitious and Detective Sergeanty?’ Buck grinned.

  Dan frowned at him again. ‘You’re being very mean today, junior trainee, and I don’t appreciate your tone,’ he said. ‘There are enough idiots in the world for me to conflict with, without throwing my boss into the mix as well.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Buck agreed. ‘I was just jerking your chain.’ He cracked a grin. ‘You’re right. He’s definitely a strange fish, but it would be easier if he wasn’t on our backs all the time.’

  Dan nodded. ‘I’m going to give a good crack,’ he said, ‘I think he’s only here for a little while, anyway, so I should be able to manage that, eh?’

  Buck looked doubtful but nodded anyway. ‘For sure,’ he said.

  ***

  The boss’ office was upstairs above Reception and the front office.

  The stairs creaked but the carpet was noticeably newer and of better quality than downstairs. The smell of freshly percolated coffee greeted Molly as she reached the top landing and paused. Her legs felt heavy and her stomach was doing flip flops.

  She could hear a radio playing some kind of synth-pop. Did everyone here have terrible taste in music? she wondered.

  Renee’s office took up most of the floor to her right, with just a store room and his bathroom-the Executive Bathroom, as he called it-to the left.

  She hesitated, the manila folder clutched in one hand. She knew Renee was here, and she knew he had probably heard her coming up the stairs. The carpet was well padded though, so maybe he hadn’t.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  No, this definitely wasn’t a good idea. Time to get outta Dodge. She turned and took a step back towards the stairs.

  ‘Molly?’

  Renee appeared in the doorway of the Executive Bathroom, doing up his pants. She could hear the toilet flushing in the background. He seemed completely unabashed by the fact he was still doing himself up.

  ‘Oh, hi...’

  ‘What’s up?’ He secured his belt and hitched his pants around his waist. Then, with no shame whatsoever, he adjusted himself. Right there. In front of her.

  Molly took a gulp and forced back her revulsion.

  ‘Oh, I, um...’

  Damn it, get it together. You’ve come this far-get it over with!

  She held the manila folder up so he could see it. ‘There’s something here I think you need to be aware of.’

  ‘Come.’

  He waved her into his office and followed her. She could feel his eyes burning a hole in the seat of her pants as she made her way to his desk.

  Renee circled round and sat down, taking the folder from her. ‘What’s all this about?’

  ‘You probably want to have a read first,’ she told him. ‘See what you think.’

  He eyed her for a moment before flicking the folder open. He wasn’t used to his staff not jumping when he said to.

  Molly remained standing and waited in silence as he flicked through her notes and printouts. He went back through them again, frowning as he turned the pages.

  Finally he looked up and fixed his gaze on Molly. She wasn’t sure how he would react. The facts were pretty evident.

  ‘I see,’ he said at length. ‘You’ve been busy.’

  Molly gave a small nod, waiting for more. He was still scowling. He must be about to explode.

  ‘What I see here disgusts me,’ Renee said, ‘it is unthinkable that somebody I trusted could do this.’ He jabbed a finger at her, his expression getting darker. ‘I see this as a significant breach of trust, and it strikes at the very heart of everything that my company and I stand for.’

  Molly gave another small nod, mentally urging him to get to the point. Renee slapped the top of his desk with an open palm. The slap echoed in the office and she jumped. He jabbed his finger at her again.

  ‘What you’ve done here is absolutely disgusting, Molly,’ Renee snarled, ‘sneaking around behind peoples’ backs? Prying into matters that don’t concern you? Who do you think you are?’

  Say what now? This wasn’t quite the reaction she had expected.

  ‘Excuse me?’ she managed, before he launched into it again.

  ‘Just who in the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to go prying into peoples’ affairs? This...’ he grabbed the folder and waved it at her, ‘this is not news! My arrangements with my staff are my business!’

  ‘So you...’

  ‘Knew about this? You’re damn right I did, missy!’ He stood now, his eyes blazing. Molly took an involuntary step backwards. ‘And it is not
your place to go sneaking around in my business affairs.’ He frowned as a new thought struck him. ‘I suppose your husband put you up to this, did he?’

  Molly frowned and gave a shake of her head. ‘No, not at all. Why would he?’

  ‘I know what cops are like,’ Renee snarled, ‘I don’t like them and I don’t trust them. He better not be involved in this, or I’ll have his badge before the day is out!’

  Molly wondered if he realised it didn’t quite work like that, or if he even knew anyone with enough pull to have that done. Somehow she doubted it.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with him,’ she retorted, her stomach doing flip flops again. ‘I stumbled across this and thought somebody was ripping off the company.’

  ‘So you decided to play detective and poke around?’ he sneered. ‘What’re you, Murder She Wrote?’

  He gave a nasty grin, really liking that one. He didn’t seem to realise she couldn’t be an actual TV show, but she got the point.

  ‘There was no point giving you a half-baked story with nothing to back it up,’ Molly told him. ‘So yes, I did a little digging...’

  ‘And breached my trust without even a thought of coming to be upfront and honest with me,’ he interjected. His complexion was blotchy red and white. ‘This is serious, Molly, this is a major breach of trust and confidence, you know what that means don’t you?’

  She did, and she couldn’t believe he was going there.

  ‘This is career-threatening, Molly,’ Renee continued, ‘for both you and your copper husband.’

  ‘Don’t...’

  ‘Shut it,’ he snapped, ‘I’ve heard enough from you today. I suggest you go on your lunch break right now and have a real good think about how you can make this better.’

  Molly gave a mute nod, simultaneously wanting to burst into tears and kick him where the sun don’t shine.

  ‘Now get outta here,’ Renee told her, ‘and come back to me with an answer.’ He shooed her away. ‘Go, go.’

  Molly turned and walked to the door, determined not to let him see her cry.

  ***

  The elderly grandparents were sitting out on the front porch when the D car pulled up outside. The old man gave a friendly wave to the two detectives and his wife called out in Samoan to somebody inside.

  ‘Watch for a runner,’ Dan murmured as he crossed the front lawn, fully expecting to hear somebody making a break for it out the back. He smiled and waved to the grandparents. ‘Talofa.’

  They nodded and smiled and the front screen door opened onto the porch. A younger woman emerged, mid-thirties and in a drab looking sundress with a worn red cardigan over the top. She had long hair pulled back.

  ‘Morning ma’am,’ Dan began, giving her his best smile.

  It was usually good enough to make a mannequin respond, but it wasn’t working on this lady. She frowned and wiped her hands on a tea towel. Her mouth drooped at the corners and she had the hangdog look of someone who’s been kept down their whole life.

  ‘He’s not here,’ she said. Even her voice was dreary and downbeat.

  ‘Mykel?’ Dan reached the front steps and paused there. Buck had gone wide to keep an eye out down the side of the house.

  She nodded. Her expression hadn’t changed. She reminded him of Boss Hogg’s dog on The Dukes of Hazzard. What was it, Flick? Flipper? His phone rang in his pocket. He ignored it for now.

  ‘School?’ Dan tried, knowing it was a long shot.

  She shrugged. Talking was obviously too much effort today. Maybe any day. Maybe that’s why her son was running wild.

  ‘Any idea where he might be?’

  ‘No.’ Her expression still hadn’t changed, but speaking was progress. Maybe they’d be friends after all.

  ‘Hmmm.’ Dan looked thoughtful. The grandparents were listening quietly. ‘You know what it’s about, eh?’

  She nodded again. Regression. Damn it. He could see the friendship slipping away before she’d even given them a chance.

  ‘Any idea when he might be home?’

  A tiny shake of the head this time. He wondered if she’d actually fallen asleep standing with her eyes open. That shake could’ve just been a twitch. The old lady sighed.

  Flash. The hound’s name was Flash. She was a definite doppelganger for ol’ Flash. Although he may have had a bit more get up and go about him. As Steven Tyler would’ve said, her get up and go must’ve got up and went.

  ‘Okay.’ Dan nodded. ‘Good talk. Here.’ He handed over a business card. The grandparents already had one, but it never hurt to give one to the mum too. Maybe she would feel more included. ‘When he turns up, give me a call, okay?’

  The woman gave another small nod. If anything, she seemed sadder now. More downcast. Dan wondered if a troupe of circus clowns on unicycles could crack that face. He gave an involuntary shudder at the thought. He hated clowns. Crazy haired, smiley freaks.

  He turned to Buck and gave him a head toss. He turned back and gave a smile to the family on the porch.

  ‘Thanks for your help,’ he said.

  The old man gave a slow nod, his face serious. ‘Thank you,’ he said carefully.

  Dan gave him a thumbs up and turned away. He heard chatter in Samoan behind him and paused, waiting for Buck to catch up.

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  Dan turned. It was the old lady. She was leaning forward, her hands on the knees of her blue lavalava. Below it she wore white ankle socks and jandals.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ the old lady repeated. ‘Dey bring him to you. At da Police.’

  The old man was nodding some more, happy with that. The mum looked mournful.

  ‘Dey aks for you,’ the old lady told him. ‘At da Police. Dey bring da boy.’

  Dan studied her for a moment, glancing to the old man and back again. The elders had spoken. That was how it went sometimes. He nodded respectfully.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  He turned and left, Buck falling into step beside him.

  ‘That’s it?’ Buck asked.

  Dan looked at him sideways. ‘That’s it,’ he said.

  Buck gave a disbelieving snort. ‘He won’t show. No way.’

  Dan raised his eyebrows. ‘You ever crossed a Samoan grandmother before?’

  ***

  Unable to get hold of Dan, Molly had called Penny.

  Unleashing in a flood of angry, frustrated tears, she had filled her friend in on the whole story, including the fertility results.

  Penny had listened patiently, making the appropriate noises at the right times. When Molly finally finished, Penny began.

  ‘This is me with my lawyer hat on,’ she said. ‘So listen up.’

  Molly did so, and the advice was short and to the point. Give Dan a heads-up. Follow up with the temp agency. Resign from Apex immediately. Put it behind her and get on with life.

  It all made perfect sense and finally Molly saw the clouds part and the sunshine begin to break through. It was like a weight lifting off her shoulders. Life was too short for this crap. She wasn’t going to waste her time on idiots like Renee and Ailsa. She’d need to be careful how she broke it to Dan though; he was likely to spark up and want to deck Renee, and that was something they couldn’t afford to happen.

  She felt a hundred percent better as she rang and left a voicemail message for the recruiter she had contacted at the agency. She declared herself available as of next week. She had enough leave to cover her notice period, and there was no point hanging around now the decision was made.

  Molly took a deep breath, wiped her face and blew her nose, and got herself together. Renee wanted an answer, and he was going to get one alright. She gave herself a shake and went back inside.

  Ailsa was on the phone, laughing with someone and running a hand through her crazy orange hair. Phone flirting, maybe. Maybe it was another fan of the Afrikaans Carpenters.

  Molly dropped her phone in her bag beside the desk, and ducked back out to the toilet without her colleague seeing.

/>   As she came back through the doorway two minutes later she saw Ailsa by her desk, holding Molly’s phone and smirking.

  She turned as Molly came in.

  ‘I’ll have that, thanks,’ Molly said curtly, holding her hand out for the phone.

  ‘Elite Recruitment, huh?’ Ailsa smirked again. She hadn’t passed the phone over yet.

  Molly didn’t reply. She plucked the phone from her colleague’s hand and moved to her desk. Sure enough, the screen was showing a missed call from the temp agency. She mentally kicked herself for saving them as a contact.

  ‘Moving on, are we?’ Ailsa enquired.

  ‘I don’t think it’s anyone’s business but mine, actually,’ Molly said bluntly. ‘And you don’t need to be answering my phone.’ A thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Which was in my bag! You can keep your sticky fingers out of my things, thanks Ailsa.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Ailsa said dismissively. She was wearing her favourite smarmy smirk, the one that really grated with Molly. ‘You say sticky fingers again and we’re gonna have a problem, huh? You can just keep your stupid opinions to yourself. Stupid.’

  Molly felt her temperature rise. ‘Are you calling me stupid?’ she asked icily.

  ‘Take it how you want,’ Ailsa smirked, putting her hands on her hips and puffing her chest out. ‘I know all about you and your type. You think you’re so smart, so clever, but you’re just a sneak. A little tattle-tale, running round spreading rumours about people. And see where it gets you?’ The smirk grew wider.

  ‘Is that right?’ Molly retorted hotly. ‘Whatever I am, it’s better than being a thief.’

  ‘You better shut your mouth, woman,’ Ailsa snarled, coming towards her. She still had her hands on her hips and her chest puffed out. Her lips were tight lines on her face. ‘You slander my name again and we’re gonna have a problem.’

  ‘That’d be two problems then,’ Molly replied. She squared up to Ailsa, and counted off her fingers. ‘One-sticky fingers. Two-a thief.’ They were face to face now, close enough to reach out and touch. ‘So if you’ve got something to say spit it out, otherwise get outta my face.’