A surge of pleasure washed over Dave at the professional recognition. ‘I’d like to think so.’
‘Right. Thanks for your help.’
Simms hung up before Dave could say, You’re welcome. Dave sat staring at the wall, thinking through the information he’d just been given.
Drug families. That would be in line with their thoughts about blackmail.
He got up and went back into the shared office and looked at the empty chair where Kim had been.
‘What’d he want?’ Jack asked.
‘Let’s think about this. Let’s say there was a drug family in town—not Barker, it’s too small, but say, somewhere like Port Pirie or Port Augusta. There would be a reason they’ve moved there. To keep out of sight, to stay under the cops’ radar … A living arrangement like that would be strategic. Small country towns wouldn’t normally suit their business.’
‘Hmm.’ Jack bit into his second pie.
‘Why do you suppose they would be living here, and which town would you choose?’
‘Good question. The why? Is there a supply here? Coming in through the ports maybe?’
Dave nodded slowly. ‘Or the post?’
Jack shook his head immediately. ‘The amount Essie got was minimal. It wouldn’t be enough to make someone shift up here. What makes you think someone has?’
‘Well, I’m not sure. In fact, my knowledge of what’s going on in this area wouldn’t indicate to me that anyone like that has moved in, but, like I said to Simms, I’m not a gatekeeper. He wanted to know if there had ever been any drug families living here.’
‘Ever? Not right now?’
‘No,’ Dave said slowly. ‘Not necessarily right now, which again doesn’t make any sense.’ He thought back to when Melissa had been in Barker. Even then he’d been sure she’d brought her supply with her rather than buying it anywhere nearby. Then her so-called boyfriend had turned up with a bit more, but he’d been a run-of-the-mill street junkie, nothing more.
‘Wish I could get on the computer and start looking,’ Dave said, staring in frustration at the screen.
Chapter 29
‘Found her,’ Lachie said down the phone.
‘What do you mean? Melissa?’
‘Yep. My contact came through. She’s in Port Augusta.’
‘You’re kidding? So close. On the streets?’ Zara asked, fishing around for her notepad just as her phone pinged with a text message.
Jack. Can we catch up?
She stared at the message, not hearing Lachie’s voice as he kept talking.
‘Zara?’
‘What? Oh, sorry.’ She put the phone up to her ear so she wouldn’t see another message come through and tried to focus on Lachie’s answer.
‘Strangely enough, no. My contact says she’s been clean for a while. Working in a halfway house there. Helping other junkies. I’ve got to say, I’m very surprised.’
‘You’re telling me! I really thought she’d still be on the gear. That puts a bit of a hole in my theory that Essie was taking the drugs for her.’
‘Not really. She could be on-selling to the people in the halfway house.’
‘No way! That would completely defeat the purpose of her being there.’
Zara could tell he was sceptical from his silence.
‘Stranger things have happened,’ Lachie finally said.
‘Are you sure it’s her? How do you know?’
‘My bloke is never wrong. You’ll have to trust me on this. I’ll text you the details.’
‘Right-oh, I’ll head down there now.’
Her phone dinged with the message from Lachie and she read it while he was on speaker. ‘Got it,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Lachie. I just know this is going to be a good story, and we’ve got to get to the bottom of all this for Essie’s sake.’
‘You’re not getting involved are you?’ Lachie’s tone indicated he knew she was.
‘Not at all.’ Zara put on her most professional voice. ‘This is a story about righting a wrong.’
‘Keep it that way, Zara,’ Lachie warned. ‘I don’t want you taking risks or making mistakes because you’re too invested.’
‘Have I ever done that?’
‘No, but you’re not quite yourself at the moment. Just keep that wall up, okay?’
Zara put the phone down and stared at the desk. Could everyone read her like a book?
Zara wound her way through the deep gorge of Horrocks Pass on her way to Port Augusta. The towering hills rose above her and she marvelled at how the gum trees grew so straight on the steep sides of the hills.
‘Turn right at the T-junction,’ the voice of Karen, the navigator, told her.
‘Yes, yes, I know that. I really only need your help when I get to town.’
Zara went over in her mind how she was going to approach Melissa. Her heart had been beating extra fast since she’d received Lachie’s text, and now she had the feeling that she was on the homeward stretch. If she could only get Melissa to talk …
Or Dave. Dave would have had some ideas about how to approach her. It had crossed Zara’s mind that a visit out of the blue could put Melissa on a backwards trajectory, and that wasn’t something she wanted to be the cause of.
That was if Melissa would even talk to her. Zara expected some resistance—obviously, Melissa hadn’t wanted to be found, otherwise she would be in contact with Essie. And Paris.
Zara entered the eighty-kilometre zone of Port Augusta and followed the directions, winding her way through the back streets until she heard the GPS say: ‘Turn right at Cooper Street and the destination is on your left.’
Slowing the car, Zara looked across the street to a nondescript house. The paint was peeling from the windowsills and the lawn was overgrown.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected to see, but not this. A tidy, sterile environment maybe. To her, this looked more like a users’ house than somewhere they came to get clean.
Checking the address Lachie had texted her and then her location, she concluded it was the house she was looking for. Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car, locked it and walked across the street.
A sign on the door told Zara to ring the bell.
Chimes echoed inside the house and after a few moments the door squeaked open and a woman in her sixties peered out. She was thin and frumpy, dressed in a large print dress. Her skin and eyes were clear, though she seemed drawn and tired.
‘Yes?’
‘Hello, I’m looking for Melissa.’
‘Melissa?’
‘Yes, is she around?’
‘Who’s asking?’
‘I’m Zara. I just need a few words with her.’
The woman assessed her for a moment, then the door swung open. ‘Come in.’ She tried to smile, showing blackened and cracked teeth.
Resisting the urge to shudder, Zara smiled back and stepped over the threshold.
‘Thanks.’
Inside, she looked around. There were three people sitting on an old, drab couch that looked as if it had once been red but was now a dull rose colour.
One of the women turned and looked over at Zara. She was, Zara judged, in her thirties, wearing a stained white shirt and jeans. Her face was covered in sores and her eyes were dim and lifeless. The other two stared at a TV, though they didn’t seem to be taking in what was on the screen. From behind, Zara could see they had greasy hair and one had large pimples covering the back of his neck.
She’d heard that users always had bad skin, but what she was looking at was something else.
As she surveyed the room, she realised it was dimly lit, with a couple of pot plants in each corner. A bookshelf with a few books was against one wall and the other had a vending machine full of chips and chocolate bars. The floor was clean, but the amenities were old and worn out. Everything about the place had seen much better days.
‘You want to see Melissa?’ the older woman asked.
‘Yes, if I could.’ Zara had to pull her gaze away from the people on
the couch, but just as she was about to, the younger woman turned at the sound of their voices and Zara sucked in her breath. Her eyes were dead, face covered in sores and she was dangerously gaunt.
The woman who had opened the door spoke again and Zara refocused. ‘Come this way.’
‘Is Melissa here?’ she asked.
‘I’m Melissa. Who are you?’ She opened the door to an office and led Zara inside.
‘You’re Melissa?’ She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘Melissa Carter?’ She looked at the woman, who Zara would have sworn was older. Her hair was ragged and grey, her face bony, eyes protruding.
‘Too many years on the gear does this to you,’ she said, sitting at her desk. ‘I know I’m not an oil painting. Anyway, I’ve told you who I am, it’s your turn now.’
‘I’m Zara Ellison. I live in Barker.’
Melissa stood straight back up again. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’
Zara reacted quickly, trying to keep her in the room. ‘Please, just hear me out.’
‘I don’t want anything to do with that town. It’s a bad place for me.’
‘It’s about your daughter,’ Zara got out. ‘Paris.’
Melissa stopped and looked at her. Her fingers traced the scars on her arms and she looked uncertain. ‘Paris?’
‘Yes, and your mum.’
‘Are they okay?’ Melissa sounded frightened and Zara caught glimpses of Essie in her face.
‘Paris is fine,’ she said soothingly. ‘But Essie, well, she’s got a few problems and she could probably do with your help.’
‘Can she still look after my daughter?’
‘For now,’ Zara said. ‘But honestly, Melissa, I can’t guarantee how much longer she will be able to.’
Melissa sank into her chair again, almost disappearing behind the mounds of paperwork. Taking in the office for the first time, Zara saw that it was tired and old, just as everything in the house seemed to be. She removed a pile of papers from another chair and sat down, looking at Melissa, who appeared to have suddenly aged another five years.
‘What’s wrong with Mum?’
‘She’s been charged with importing heroin.’
Melissa looked as if she’d been slapped in the face. ‘What? No! That’s not possible. Why would she do that? She hates drugs. She hated what they did to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Melissa. But, yes, she’s already been to court and was bailed. Her trial will be coming up soon. If she goes to prison, she won’t be able to care for Paris, who will probably end up a ward of the state.’
‘No. That can’t be.’ Melissa stared pleadingly at Zara. ‘Who’s looking after Paris now?’
‘While Essie was in custody, Kim Burrows was. She’s a foster carer.’ Zara paused. ‘She was the one who posted bail for your mum.’
‘Dave’s wife? Is that who you mean?’
‘Yes.’
Melissa shook her head. ‘This doesn’t make sense. Mum taking drugs. She’s so anti-drugs …’ Her voice trailed off and she shook her head as her knee jiggled up and down.
‘Look, we all know that. That’s why I’m here. To see if we can work out what’s going on. Originally, Dave thought she was doing it for you, but from what I can see you’re clean. Is that right?’
‘Yeah, I have been for eighteen months.’ Melissa looked up, clearly proud of her achievement. ‘It’s a special kind of hell, when you’re going through the withdrawals and trying to get clean. Took me three weeks to be able to go out in public again. I’d lie in bed feeling like I had a bad flu, headaches, sweating. I’d tell myself I’d be okay because I had to get through this so I could go and see Paris again. She was the only thing that kept me focused.
‘That’s why I discharged myself from the hospital after Dave saved me. I didn’t want Mum to see me like that. When I saw her again, I wanted to be able to look her in the eye and say I was clean and I’d come through the other side.
‘Mum buying drugs is crazy. Totally not right.’
‘How come you aren’t home looking after Paris now, then?’ Zara asked gently. ‘Looks like you’ve done a wonderful job caring for these people here. That’s what you do, isn’t it?’
Nodding, Melissa smiled again, showing her terrible teeth. Zara wanted to run away at the grizzly sight, but she stayed where she was. This woman had worked hard to get better, and Zara wasn’t backing down from the game now.
‘Because I can’t do that to Mum and Paris again. I promised myself I’d never put them through what I did five years ago. They’re better off without me. Every day I fight the demons within me not to take a hit. Not to go and find a dealer to get some smack.’ She rubbed her arms with jerky movements. ‘Working here keeps me in reality, reminds me never to go back there again. Dealing with the bureaucrats keeps my mind busy. I’m always chasing extra funding and helping new clients who walk through the door. That’s why I let you in. I thought you must have someone who needed help and heard about us. If I wasn’t doing this, I’d … Well, I’m not sure.’ She breathed in deeply through her nose and Zara could keenly feel the desperation of a woman who badly wanted to be well, but had to continually fight to stay that way. ‘How was Mum getting the drugs?’
‘They were being posted to her.’
Melissa sat still and Zara felt a change in the air.
Suddenly, Melissa catapulted out of her seat and thumped her fist into her hand. ‘That bastard!’ she spat.
Zara pulled back a little, suddenly alert. ‘What do you mean?’
Melissa looked up, anger blazing in her eyes. ‘We had a guy in here eighteen months ago. Tried to blackmail me into receiving drugs through the mail. I said no, I wouldn’t be a part of it, but by then I’d already been hooking up with him and he knew about Paris and Mum. Sounds like he’s found her and is blackmailing her. I know he’s done it to others.’
The familiar rush of adrenalin coursed through Zara. Now they were getting somewhere. ‘Can you tell me about that guy?’
‘Not really, he was only here a few weeks. There’re strict rules about us being involved with the clients. He wasn’t a client, but he said he’d had trouble with drugs before and needed a place to crash. I had a spare room and said it was fine. I always need money to keep this place going, you see. He paid for three weeks up front. I wasn’t about to say no.
‘Course it only took a couple of days and he’d wormed his way in—he’s very charismatic.’ She shrugged. ‘Then when I said no, I had to ask him to leave because I couldn’t have him bringing drugs here, he would have undone all the good work with everyone.’ She spread her arms out. ‘Everyone who lives in the house is clean, but really fragile. One slip and they could be back on the dark side again, so we won’t allow anything that could cause that. It’s not rocket science. He did get really angry when I asked him to leave. Threatened me, but I didn’t take much notice of what he said. I’ve been threatened lots and no one has ever made good on it.’
‘What was his threat?’
‘Just that he’d make sure I’d pay. But maybe he meant my family would.’
Zara’s heart went out to Melissa. Her thin frame seemed to shrink even more, with each little piece of the puzzle she told.
‘I wonder why your mum hasn’t said anything. She’s refusing to cooperate with the police.’
‘Who knows. If it is Spritz, then maybe he’s got her brainwashed. Thinking he’ll do something to me if she doesn’t take them. That’s how he gets control over people. Tells them he’ll hurt their family. Maybe she thinks she’s protecting me and Paris.’ Twiddling her thumbs and unable to stay still, she kept talking. ‘He’s not a very nice person. And I can’t go back to Barker and see them, I’m too fragile. But I’ll do anything to help Mum. Just tell me what you need me to do.’
Zara thought quickly. Dave would want her to get anything that might help. Everything that Melissa could tell her would be of use. She got out her notepad and looked at Melissa.
‘The best thi
ng you can do is to talk to me, Melissa. This man—you said his name was Spritz? Tell me everything you know about him.’
Chapter 30
‘You’ve come up with the goods, my man,’ she told Lachie when he answered.
‘What’d you get?’
‘Some good info, but I need to see Dave about it. I’m still not sure how I’m going to handle this.’ She paused. ‘Melissa is definitely clean but still fighting to stay that way.’ She filled him in, ending with: ‘What can you tell me about a bloke whose street name is Spritz? Have you heard of him?’
‘Zara, it’s been nearly fifteen years since I was on the street gig. Got a real name?’
‘Melissa isn’t sure, but she thought it was something like Esperitzo.’
‘That sounds like a pork-and-cheese name. Tell me again?’
‘Pork and cheese?’
‘Yeah, Portuguese. That’s what we used to call them back when I was out there. Probably politically incorrect now.’
‘Right. Esperitzo was what she thought.’
‘Yeah, right. See, there’re many Spritzes around. But if I remember correctly, back in my day there was a big drug family headed up by Manuel Esperitzo. Guessing they might be related.’ He paused. ‘If that’s the case, then you’re dead on the money—this will be huge. Imports, distribution, the works. You name it, they did it when it came to drugs. This would be why the AFP is involved. I’ll see what I can find out. You’ll have to be discreet, Zara. You’re playing with dangerous people here. They’ll stop at nothing if they think you’re about to bring them down. I knew a bloke, used to be one of my snitches; they got wind he’d been talking to the coppers, and he disappeared. Word on the street was they put him in a cage full of rats and let them eat him. So, don’t get in the mix and get yourself killed. Or worse. If this is run by them, they won’t think twice about eliminating a journo.’
Zara shuddered. ‘Oh my God!’
‘Exactly,’ Lachie said. ‘Be careful.’
A rush of fear ran through her. ‘Would they put people on Essie to monitor her movements?’
‘Sure. If they thought she might talk.’
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