Fire Games

by Mark Stewart

  CLAIRE DROVE through the archery club’s open main gate. Police, ambulance, and reporters had polluted the area making parking any closer a nightmare. The young girl archer who had been Patrick’s hostage sat on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance.

  Seeing the driver was about to slip behind the steering wheel Kendal ran to stop him.

  “Hold it. I need to talk to the girl.”

  “Leave the young woman alone. She has been traumatized enough.”

  He ignored the man’s protests and jumped into the rear of the ambulance. He flashed a friendly smile at the girl.

  “Are you okay?”

  The girl flicked mouse-coloured hair from her eyes.

  “Yes. At first, I said no to medical help. I went to collect my bow and arrows and collapsed onto the grass. Someone called an ambulance. They said I’d gone into shock. Detective, could you do me a favour?”

  He gave the girl his undivided attention.

  “Please, look after my equipment.”

  “Yes.”

  Kendal smiled, patted the back of her hand and jumped from the ambulance. He waved at the driver and watched the vehicle turn left at the gate and onto the main road.

  “Sugar, look over at the office.”

  He turned and squinted in the sunlight, watching the two men closely.

  “I wonder what Captain Hughes is talking to Weakom about?”

  “Let’s go find out,” suggested Claire, starting to make a move.

  Kendal blocked her path by extending an arm. “Hold on a minute, let’s watch.”

  They saw Philips escorting Dava from the office. Weakom and Captain Hughes were engrossed in a lengthy conversation.

  “Too far to lip read,” whispered Kendal. “Studying the body language of both men, arms by their sides, relaxed facial expressions, they seem like old friends.” He frowned. “Hughes just checked his watch. They’ve slapped each other on the shoulder and are now walking into the office. Okay, let’s go.”

  They were half way to the office when there was a massive bang followed by a fireball. The black smoke mushroomed into the sky. The news reporters stopped packing up their equipment and turned towards the explosion. Instinctively they all scrambled for their cameras.

  Simultaneously the Detectives dived for the ground.

  “My car is on fire,” jeered Kendal. His hateful stare swept the area. “Patrick has to be behind this. He has to be.”

  Kendal stood, grabbed his mobile phone from his pocket and called for a fire truck. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He watched a small white car enter through the main gate then came to a halt. The engine died. A woman slid from behind the steering wheel. He studied her as she started to walk towards him. Her stroll looked majestic and confident. The woman’s long blonde hair bounced as she navigated her way through the crowd. She looked calm, her smile and face radiated sophistication.

  “We have a visitor,” he announced.

  “Is anyone in need of a doctor?” the woman called.

  “No one was hurt in the explosion,” yelled Claire. Standing, she brushed the dust from her leathers and cap.

  Kendal waited for the woman to step close before extending his hand. He spoke a cordial welcome.

  “It’s good to see you again, Doctor.”

  Ashlee Clarke extended her right hand. The gap between Kendal and Clarke appeared close enough for him to smell the shampoo in her hair.

  “Detective, I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “I was hoping for an appointment to see you later today.”

  The doctor pulled her hand away and stepped back.

  “I will be in my office at the Children’s Hospital at five o’clock this afternoon.”

  “We’ll see you then, Doctor.”

  “Are you positive I cannot help in any way?”

  Kendal rubbed his chin, glaring at her. “Maybe you can. I have a question.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” she replied, flicking her hair from her eyes.

  “What brings you here at this precise moment?”

  Ashlee Clarke leveled her head, folded her arms and stared into Kendal’s eyes. Her face lost all warmth and friendliness.

  “I do not like the tone of your voice. I am not guilty of any wrongdoing. I am here purely by coincidence.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

  Kendal studied the woman’s every twitch as she explained her timely arrival.

  She pointed to a paddock adjacent to the archery club. “I am here to feed my stallion. Raol is the big grey. A stallion is a horse, Detective.”

  “I know what a stallion is. Are you left handed?”

  “Right handed. Why?”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I am an only child. I do have a male cousin.”

  “Is your cousin right handed or left?”

  “Left I think.” She flashed a flat smile. “You have unique pick-up lines, Detective.”

  “I’m only thinking out loud.”

  “You think too much.”

  “Does your cousin live locally?” asked Kendal.

  For the first time, his questions made her look uncomfortable. If he read her body language correctly, he’d have to assume she felt insecure. He needed to keep them flowing before she shut up shop. He repeated the question.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Phil Mason.”

  Kendal’s eyes widened. Phil Mason’s name happened to be on the CD Tegan managed to throw out of the white van.

  “What’s Mason’s address?”

  The woman’s shoulders slumped. She reached into her bag and extracted a gold cigarette case as she said the address.

  “I thought smoking is bad for the body?” commented Claire.

  The doctor exhaled her answer in a cloud of smoke. “It is.”

  “You seem a trifle nervous of my questions,” said Kendal.

  “No, not at all. They sound stupid, and stupidity irritates me.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s personal and none of your business Detective. I am not in a position to answer any more of your questions.” Dr. Clarke glanced at her watch. “Thanks to you I am late for an appointment at the hospital.” Producing a small pocket diary, she turned to a page with a few handwritten words on it. She looked up. “This is my appointment book.”

  Kendal watched her scribble in the book. Kendall, 5:00pm today, my office.

  “We’ll be there,” chirped Claire.

  Kendal stared at Dr. Clarke’s back while she walked away.

  “Sugar, her beauty is only skin deep.”

  He ignored the taunt and ran after the woman. Claire ran after her partner. Kendal leaned against the doctor’s car door, peering through the open window.

  “Excuse me,” said Kendal.

  “May I help you, Detective?” Dr. Clarke lifted her gaze towards him.

  “Can I change my appointment time to 4:30 this afternoon?”

  Dr. Clarke rolled her eyes and re-opened the small black book. After a careful study, she looked up.

  “Very well, Detective, I will see you then.” She turned the ignition key. The engine roared to life.

  “Before you go, I have three more statements I have to say.”

  The doctor gave a forlorn look.

  “I don’t use pick-up lines, and I’m happily married.”

  The woman stared coldly at the man looking at her through the open window.

  “You said there were three more statements. You have mentioned only two.”

  Kendal faked a smile, pointing to her appointment book. “Kendal has only one L.”

  Dr. Clarke slammed the small black book shut, threw it on the passenger seat, switched her stare onto Claire and drove away. Both Detectives stood watching the car speed through the gate.

  “Sugar, the way you ran towards the beauty queen I thought you were going to ask her out on a date.”

&n
bsp; “Claire, don’t be silly. Like I told the good doctor, I’m married.”

  “You told her you were happily married. Which is it?”

  “You think too much.” Kendal chuckled. He checked his watch. “It’s now 1:06pm. We need to talk to Captain Hughes and Daniel Weakom, a quick lunch, meet with Clarke’s cousin, and get back to the hospital for our Doctor’s appointment. She knows more than she’s saying.” Staring into the distance his brow wrinkled.

  Claire slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve got the look of a man deep in thought.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said kiss me, big fella,” she lied, puckering up.

  Kendal looked her square in the face. “That’s exactly what’s bugging me.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “What you said.”

  “Has anyone ever said you talk in riddles?”

  “It’s how the doctor spoke.”

  Plastering an angry expression on her face, Claire shook her head. “Does this mean you won’t kiss me?”

  “Not now, this is important.”

  “I’m not following anything you’re saying.”

  “One minute the doctor said words like; ‘I’ve,’ the next she changed to words to ‘I will.’”

  “Meaning?” asked Claire.

  Kendal shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  At 1:08pm, the detectives were hovering over Weakom, sitting on a chair in the archery club’s small office. Kendal started pacing the floor. Claire folded her arms glaring at Weakom.

  “Honey, what’s wrong. If you’re angry at me over something, can’t we kiss and make up?”

  “Don’t you honey me, Daniel, and we certainly won’t be kissing. I think we should break up.”

  “Weakom, tell me the reason why you keep disappearing?” insisted Kendal.

  A big man blocked the doorway, plunging the office into a full eclipse. “I can answer your question.”

  “Captain Hughes, it’s good to see you,” quoted Kendal, looking over his shoulder.

  “It’s not good to see you,” he bellowed. “I remember throwing you off the arson case. Why are you still around polluting the air?”

  Kendal opened his mouth to defend himself. Before he could utter a word, the Captain interrupted.

  “Seeing how you’re here, I want a word. Weakom, Claire, wait outside.”

  Hughes walked behind the office desk and sat in the plastic chair. He shuffled forward and cleared his throat. Claire snuck back into the office.

  “Ambroso, wait outside,” yelled the big man. “Close the door on your way out.”

  Kendal waited for the room to empty before walking across the room so he could lean on the table.

  “Cap, I’m certain I know Patrick’s identity. If you take me off the case now, he might never be caught.”

  Staring up at Kendal, Captain Hughes drummed the tabletop using the tips of his fingers.

  “Don’t tell me some crap story about Patrick being a cop.”

  “He’s no cop.”

  “Speak. Convince me why you should stay on the case,” snarled Hughes. He clasped his hands behind his head before leaning back in the chair.

  Kendal explained his theory in two minutes. “It all fits. All the pieces fit.”

  “You only have circumstantial evidence.”

  “At the moment, I do. Give me time to find the proof.”

  “Okay, you’re back on the case. I hope you’re right. The Commissioner’s on my back demanding results; so is the media. They’re sniffing around like bloodhounds on a hot trail.”

  Kendal marched across the small room. He reached out and yanked the door open.

  “Weakom, you’re wanted inside. Claire, let’s go.”

  Claire almost needed to trot to keep up as they marched towards the target area.

  Kendal picked up the young girl archer’s bow, loaded the arrow and pulled back on the string.

  “Sugar, what are you doing?”

  “I’m having a turn at archery.”

  “Why are you playing Cowboys and Indians instead of questioning Weakom?”

  “The Captain said he has everything under control. The girl said I should try archery sometime. I thought now might be a good time. She’s not here to complain about what I’m about to do wrong.” He lined up the target with the arrowhead and let go. The arrow stabbed the grass nine feet wide of the target.

  Claire giggled. “You need a lot of practice.”

  “Yep, a good archer sure must put in a lot of practice hours. Be a gem and fetch the arrow.”

  “Why should I be your little puppy?”

  “Because you’re my partner, my new, partner.” He grinned behind her back as she huffed and puffed on her way to picking up the arrow.

  “Here, partner,” she blurted, thrusting the arrow at Kendal’s face. “You can carry the equipment to my car. To set the record straight, going to fetch a wooden arrow is not a good way to impress a woman.” She poked him in the gut and marched off.

  “That’s it.”

  “What?”

  “This arrow is wooden. The arrow Patrick used in the park was made from surgical steel.”

  “So?” she questioned.

  “I’m positive the Doc knows more than she’s admitting.”

  “No matter what, we need a picture of Patrick unmasked. Furthermore, you should’ve fetched the arrow.”

  It was Kendal’s turn to ask why.

  “I’m in charge of the case, remember?”

  “Claire, I’m back in charge. After we’ve eaten lunch, we’re going to catch Patrick.”

  Staring at her partner’s smug look, she frowned.

  “How did you convince Captain Hughes to officially reinstate you back on the case?”

  “I fed him a bullshit story.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO