A Tropical Cure

by John Hollenkamp

“And why did Darren Mangan go to Cairns?” Wilder tapped his foot, not wanting to hear the answer he was afraid of getting.

  “He’s looking at buying a car,” Joel replied.

  “Hmm. Buying a car?” Wilder appraised the junior officer momentarily and proceeded to walk off with nothing else to add.

  Joel waited for Wilder to drive off, then he bolted back to his car.

  CHAPTER 69

  MEXICAN STAND-OFF

  The strong South-Easterly wind kept blowing through the curtains slapping the fabric against the bed, and occasionally in Darren’s face. He’d been asleep for most of the late morning and afternoon. Earlier, Ruby had tended to his bruises and abrasions from his scuffle in Cairns. Darren quickly realised that her bedside manner in the care for him was nowhere the quality that Patch had received from her. His incessant grumbling at this lack of tenderness in her cleaning and dressing of his wounds, only quickened her resolve to finish.

  Darren woke up stiff and sore. Feeling the curtain brushing over his face once again, he lashed out at it, with no result. Outside, daylight was giving way to evening. Even the air in the bedroom had cooled. He pulled the bedcover over him. His eyes were open, his stomach was rumbling. I need some food, he thought while languishing under the covers.

  And in one spontaneous second, the afternoon’s peace was over.

  Patch had exploded into a barking frenzy.

  What now? Darren grizzled under his breath.

  He threw the covers off him and put his shorts on. Patch was going nuts. Once zipped up, he went out to see what the commotion was about.

  Darren couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Right there in his lounge room.

  Eddie.

  Short hair. Shaven.

  Still the ugly Eddie.

  The Devil’s Sinners’ tattoo glaring at him from his bulging arm.

  The arm which was wrapped around Ruby’s throat.

  Ruby’s eyes were somewhere between panic-stricken and furious.

  Eddie’s face was a picture of hate. The fury in his eyes burned like the devil’s, making him squeeze his arm tighter around Ruby’s throat. Her struggling body couldn’t budge him.

  Darren felt the rage welling in him, the blood in his veins coursing faster and faster.

  Patch was still going crazy out the back.

  Darren turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes peeled on Eddie, “Patch. Shut up.” Loud and clear.

  Although the dog’s bark had fizzled, he still made himself heard with a yelp, a growl, obliging Darren to yell out again. “Get out of it. Stop barking.”

  Now, the noise stopped.

  Darren was boiling inside. And all he wanted to do now, was to choke the life out of Eddie.

  But it was not going to be the way this scenario was going to play out. Darren relaxed his tensed arms, forcing himself to calm, reduce his heart rate, settle his raging mind, desperately channelling the spirit of Carlos. A fight was never won on the back of bitterness and hate. A concept difficult to appreciate in this situation. Ruby. I will not let him harm you. He vowed.

  “You want me, don’t you?” Darren said with composure.

  “Oh yeah. And I want my coke.”

  “Your coke? Why would I have your coke?” Darren’s mind was racing now. He thinks I have his coke. A bargaining chip. Good.

  “That little shit bag, Martin. He disappeared from the radar. Suddenly, just like that.” Eddie snapped his fingers.

  Darren shifted his stance, he edged closer.

  “Don’t come any closer. I’ll snap her sweet little neck like a toothpick.” Then Eddie brought up his other arm holding the Walther. “Or I could stick this over here.” And Eddie lowered the gun pointing it against Ruby’s groin.

  Ruby’s eyes widened in horror.

  Darren nodded and took one step back, slowly.

  “Okay. Chill. Let’s talk about the cocaine.”

  “So, you do have the package,” Eddie voiced. “And Martin? What did you do with Martin? He was a creepy little cunt.”

  “What makes you think I did anything to him?” Darren replied, wanting to buy time. Time to think. To think of a way to lure Eddie into a greater sense of control.

  Banter.

  It can get you killed in a fight. One of Johnno’s no-no’s. Don’t talk in a fight. Distraction will get you killed.

  What is it that makes Eddie tick?

  Greed. Power. In equal one hundred percent measures. Let’s give him some.

  Eddie had tired of Darren’s silence.

  “Enough bullshit. I don’t care what you did to that little turd. Where’s the coke?” Eddie’s tone changed.

  “Not here.”

  “Fuck off. You think I’m going to fall for that one.”

  Ruby began to struggle, her eyes betrayed anger. She tried to say something, but Eddie’s thick bicep had moved to cover her mouth.

  Then everything changed again…

  With the crashing sound of thunder, the front door tore open with a tall figure emerging suddenly, holding a Glock with both hands. The gun was squarely aimed at the big guy holding Ruby. Darren was as shocked as Eddie, to see a copper standing inside the doorway, looking like a re-take from a Starsky and Hutch episode.

  “Drop your weapon,” Joel commanded, his lips were quivering, his gun hand unsteady. Nevertheless, the Glock remained pointed at Eddie, who appraised the copper with the indifference of an executioner.

  Joel moved in closer forming the triangle in the stand-off.

  “You okay, Daz?”

  Darren responded by shaking his head, while lowering it for a few seconds.

  Eddie had lifted the .32 away from Ruby’s crotch, resting the barrel against her cheek. “I think you need to lower your weapon. Aboriginal.”

  Joel hadn’t seen the gun in Eddie’s hand. From his view outside the window, that part of Eddie was blocked. How could he have made such a blunder?

  The gangly cop straightened from his Starsky stance, and lowered the Glock, dropping it on the wooden floor boards.

  Eddie nodded once. He blinked, and sneezed, the .32 was off her face …

  Darren exploded into a charge, storming into both of them. Ruby copped the brunt of Darren’s attack, shouting in agony, and anger. Eddie recovered quickly, shoving her aside. Joel had joined the affray by trying to wrestle the PPK from Eddie’s grip. Instead, the ex-bikie slammed his elbow into Joel’s face causing him to twist a hundred and eighty degrees, blood spewing from his mouth. Darren had wrested Ruby free from the ruck, making sure he pushed her away with everything he had.

  Ruby stumbled and tripped, knocking a lamp and table on its arse, with her going on top. She fell hard.

  A gunshot.

  Eddie had fired off a round from the PPK.

  The effect had stunned everyone for a moment. Everyone, except Eddie.

  “The next one goes into his black fucking brain,” Eddie growled pushing the hot barrel against Joel’s jaw.

  Joel was kneeling on the floor, and put his hands up. “Okay. You got me.”

  Darren moved to shield Ruby.

  Eddie’s attention was now divided between two. Darren and Joel.

  He shifted the gun and pointed it at Darren, “I want her here. Next to me.”

  Darren moved his head slowly from side to side.

  “You want cocaine. I want the girl,” Darren stated.

  Eddie laughed. The PPK was still aimed at Darren. “See this?” Eddie nodded at the weapon.

  Banter.

  Joel shot up from his crouched position, and upper cut the big man. The PPK went off, the bullet blew Darren’s shirt sleeve to shreds, and he then spun in agony clutching his upper arm. Ruby screamed and pulled Darren to the floor, where he rolled himself into a ball. Swearing like a fishwife, Ruby while trying to cover Darren to protect him from another bullet, she finally succumbed to sobbing.

  Joel’s knuckles had recoiled from the impact with Eddie’s jaw. Eddie had staggered back without l
osing the gun. Joel’s knuckles had gone red, zinging with pain, like he’d hit a brick wall. That’s when Eddie kicked out, his heavy boot connecting with Joel’s face snapping his head sideways. Joel’s whole body twisted, landing spreadeagled on the floor. Out to the count.

  Ruby was sobbing over Darren, as blood was flowing from between his fingers where he clutched the gunshot wound on his arm.

  Eddie lunged over to her, grabbing her by her blond locks, pulling her up off the floor. Ruby was in a hysterical fit, swinging her arms wildly. Eddie smashed his fist into her abdomen, winding her. She doubled over, gasping for air, but Eddie brought her back up again, by her hair twisting the locks. His face was now inches away from hers. Then he headbutted her. Ruby slumped, Eddie threw his arm around her tiny waist, and swung her limp frame over his shoulder.

  Eddie then turned his attention to Darren, still on the floor.

  Their eyes met.

  “You want your woman. You bring me the coke, or she dies,” Eddie spoke coldly, towering over Darren.

  Patch was going crazy behind the fence.

  The porchlight across the road came on, a door opened and someone yelled out, “What the bloody hell is going on?”

  By that time, Eddie had thrown Ruby in the boot of the Statesman, and had driven off in the opposite direction.

  The street had gone back to quiet.

  The porch light switched off.

  CHAPTER 70

  KEEPING SECRETS

  Patch’s barking had changed to a whimper and a high-pitched yelp wailing at the back door. Darren got to his knees, fucking dog is gonna scratch his way through that door. Then he stood, a little woozy on his feet, he went to the kitchen door and opened it. Patch nearly bowled him over as the dog leapt against his master. Darren’s arm was throbbing. “Settle down.” He pushed the dog off him.

  A loud complaint came from the lounge room.

  “Fucken bastard kicks like a mule,” Joel whinged and spat blood, lying on the floor dabbing his swollen lip.

  Lying flat on his back he waited for Darren to approach. Patch hovered over Joel, the dog was sniffing him and finished with a random lick to his face.

  “Fucken hell, I oughta be licking my wounds. Not the dog.” Joel sat up with a groan. “That was downright embarrassing.”

  “He took Ruby.” Darren was glassy-eyed.

  “Yeah,” Joel mumbled and rose to his feet.

  “Going after him.”

  Darren started for the door. Blood was dripping down his shirt-sleeve and arm.

  “He’s not going to harm her while you have his stuff.”

  “How would you know!”

  “Calm yourself. Let’s not make any more mistakes. The last fifteen minutes have been a giant fuck up. I should have brought back up.”

  Joel ogled his sore hand, the knuckles were swollen and sore to touch.

  “I need to get her back, before she gets hurt.”

  “Hey, Daz. Ruby’s a big girl. Not saying in any way or fashion that this isn’t life threatening. She’s been in hairy situations before, mate. Iraq. She’s no cupcake.”

  “Yeah right, you saw her just now. She’s pretty out of control, starting to lose it.”

  “Cut her some slack, it’s only been a few weeks since…”

  “Righto, righto…I get what you’re saying.” Temperature rising. Temper.

  Banter.

  Darren signalled stop, raising an open palm. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  Joel nodded.

  “Let’s have a gander at the arm.”

  Blood had been puddling against Darren’s bare foot from steady dripping, running down his hand and fingers.

  “I had it under control until you came barging through that door,” Darren mouthed without looking at Joel.

  Banter. Shut up Darren. Let him fix the arm.

  “Saying sorry about that isn’t going to reverse the situation. But … I admit, it may not have been such a good idea. Question is … how to move forward and get her back.”

  Darren turned around facing Joel, “You gonna bring your mates into this?”

  The room fell silent.

  Joel stared at the floor.

  “I’m going after him. With or without you. I don’t really care. Just don’t stand in my way. I have a score to settle with Eddie.”

  “I’d never abandon a brother or a mate. My fellow coppers aren’t my mates. I just work there, but not for them. I do my bit to better the lives of people whose paths I cross. And … stupidly or naively try to get justice for those who’ve been done over. Most people I’ve come across only look at the horizon, but miss everything on the journey to it. My path is through the desert, step by step, I try not to miss a plant or animal, they might provide me with water or food.”

  Darren rolled his eyes.

  “Abo wisdom?”

  “Yeah, I get carried away.” Joel smiled broadly.

  Darren didn’t smile, time was ticking away. To run off blindly trying to find where Eddie had taken Ruby was a silly idea. Joel was right. As long as Eddie thought that he had the cocaine it would only be a matter of time before Eddie would let him know the next step. For now, his arm needed patching up.

  He held up his arm, “Well come on, where’s your first aid kit?”

  Joel put his finger behind the shirt sleeve flap, pulling it back to see the damage from the bullet, he winced with a stink face, “Whoa, gonna need a quack for this one, bit of a mess.”

  Joel shook his head. “I’m just a copper, not a medic.”

  ***

  Darren had contacted Helen, Ruby’s boss and convinced her to look at his arm. He had brought Joel along, still wearing his police uniform. Despite spinning a long-winded yarn about a shooting practice gone wrong, Darren tried to set Helen’s mind at ease, that Ruby was okay, but too upset and embarrassed to accompany Darren. Ruby had accidentally shot Darren. Helen didn’t believe a word, but she finally caved in to Darren and Joel’s assurances that Ruby was safe. Helen cleaned, stitched and dressed Darren’s bullet wound. More than a graze, she described it as a minor flesh-wound.

  ***

  “I don’t know what sort of caper you are involved in. You’re both full of it, that much I do know. I also know this: you Darren, possess a trait, I do not see often enough. Compassion, loyalty and selflessness. Please don’t let me down. And more importantly, Ruby. See to her welfare. Now piss off, it’s late.” Helen ushered them out of the clinic.

  Before stepping off the porch, Darren turned, “Thanks Helen. Oh … please don’t ring the coppers.”

  “Why would I? There’s one standing next to you,” she replied.

  ***

  The thumping coming from the back of the Statesman was getting on Eddie’s nerves. Out here, he wasn’t too concerned about her antics. No one would hear her carrying-on in the boot. Too late for a ferry. His plan was to go back to Matteo’s place, contact the cabdriver and arrange the deal. The longer he thought about it, the less he liked his plan. Cops could already be swarming all over Magnetic Island looking for a killer. More thumping from the boot.

  ***

  He’d even considered driving back to Cairns. But sharing the proceeds of the coke with Bruce, no way.

  However, he was taking a chance in this deserted part of South Townsville, a copper on patrol would probably be curious about a luxury car parked in this location. But first he had to deal with his hostage. It would be a long night until the ferry in the morning; longer if she kept at it. Eddie got out of the car and unlocked the boot, lifting it enough to shine a pen-light on her face, Ruby stared at him wide-eyed, furious, a hint of fear projecting from her bloodshot eyes. Her wrists, ankles were bound with cable-ties. Eddie had wound grey duct tape around her head, over her mouth so she couldn’t scream. Ruby’s forehead had a huge angry welt from Eddie’s headbutt, highlighting an angry frown where it met with the bridge of her nose.

  “I haven’t got the patience for a rabid mutt, that includes you.
I’d be happy enough to finish you off right here, and now. But that does not get me what I want. And it means you don’t see your boyfriend again. Your choice. Keep annoying me, and I’ll kill you, or … I might throw your arse in the river. Crocs will love you.” Eddie slammed the boot shut. His comment gave him an idea.

  He decided to drive to Sandy Point. He knew where he could park overnight without attracting attention. On the way out there, he’d stop for some take-away. After twenty-five minutes of driving she hadn’t made a sound. Eddie felt confident his hostage had taken his advice on board, enough confidence to pull into a servo in order to get some food. If she makes any noise I’ll fucking kill her.

  Eddie parked away from the bowsers. Before getting out he eyed the mirror waiting for the last punter to finish fuelling. Realising he couldn’t wish away any new customers while going into the servo, he nevertheless preferred to be seen by as few people as possible. He thought about the security camera for a moment, then dismissing it. The camera wasn’t going to ring the coppers or bikers, for that matter, should he be so unlucky to be recognised by someone who happened to enter.

  It was only just after 9pm. He locked the car. Once inside the servo, he quickly grabbed some bottled water and a couple of Pepsis from the fridges. Near the counter, the pie-warmer was close to empty. One sausage roll, and a chicken pie in plastic wrapping. The Indian man behind the counter gave him a tired smile, and asked if he’d bought any fuel. Eddie shook his head, put the drinks on the counter and pointed to the pie-warmer, “I’ll have both.”

  After pocketing the change from a fifty-dollar note, Eddie left the shop without a word. The Statesman sat undisturbed not far from the exit. He was relieved to return to total silence.

  ***

  The track was not easy for him to find, missing the entrance as Eddie drove to the boat-ramp. He did a giant circle in the empty parking area, returning on the same road. Taking his time, he drove slower. Now he could see where the gap in the scrub was, the Holden’s bright headlights revealing the dirt-track on the left. Easing the sedan slowly into the entrance, it cast a long stream of light into the dark. The condition of the track hadn’t improved since his last visit.

  Eddie gunned the car into the first fifty or so metres, trying to vanish out of sight from the main road. The Statesman bucked a little. He could now hear the banging from the boot. No doubt, his prisoner would be thrown around, and hopefully, not having to swallow too much dust. Did he really care?