The Summertime Dead

by Robert Engwerda

  ‘You better drive,’ he told the constable before they slung themselves into the car.

  Whittaker sped the short distance to the garage, pulling up immediately in front of the petrol bowser where onlookers were already gathering.

  ‘Get rid of anyone who doesn’t need to be here,’ Cole ordered Whittaker as he took stock of himself and the scene.

  He walked tentatively into the garage and stood at the edge of the grease pit peering down at the two ambulance men with the body, just as Ray Furnell came barging toward him, fit to explode.

  ‘You satisfied now?’ he screamed. ‘You bastards happy you killed Lee?’

  His eyes blazed and Cole knew there was no reasoning with him. All he could do was stand as calmly as possible with his arms by his sides, and take it.

  ‘Ray, just tell me what happened,’ he said when Furnell had finished his tirade.

  ‘Haven’t you got bloody eyes! I got up this morning and couldn’t see him nowhere. I was calling out to him and looking here and there and he wasn’t in his room or in the lounge and I thought he might be workin’ on his car, but he wasn’t and then … and then …’

  ‘I’m sorry Ray, I really am. You don’t need to speak if you don’t want to. Ray?’

  ‘Jesus Christ! You hounded and hounded him and didn’t let him go and he tried to tell you he didn’t do it and none of you would listen. And then I go to the garage and I can’t see him at first and then I did.’ He broke down. ‘I tried to reach him and I couldn’t and I tried to pull him across and that didn’t work neither…’

  ‘Ray …’

  ‘I jump down in the pit and grab a hold of him and don’t know how I got him down. He just fell into my arms and we crashed to the bottom of the pit and he was gone even then. Christ knows how long he was dead. He must have been there all bloody night and I couldn’t do nothing to save him,’ he cried. ‘Nothing.’

  Cole gave him time to compose himself, before he asked, ‘Did you see that this … Ray?’

  The mechanic sank to his haunches, wiping his eyes before putting his hands to his ears, as if he couldn’t bear to listen.

  ‘I’ll leave you be,’ Cole said. ‘I’m sorry I bothered you now. And I’m sorry for you and all your family. Anything I can do, just ask.’

  But Furnell waved him away with both hands in an agitated manner and Cole walked away to wait by the petrol bowser, Holloway’s car pulling up in the street not long after, the sergeant ashen as he hurried over.

  ‘What’s wrong, Terry?’

  ‘Nothing. At least nothing anywhere near as bad as what’s happened here by the look of it. Did Furnell kill himself?’

  Cole heard his own breath come heavily, said, ‘I’ve just been talking to Ray, but he’s a mess as you’d expect. Someone’s just taken him inside.’ He stared vacantly about the garage apron before turning back to Holloway. ‘Are you still out of sorts?’

  ‘I must have picked up a bug,’ Holloway mumbled. ‘Is Fielder going to get involved in this one as well?’

  ‘I suppose he’ll have to in some way. Lee was his only suspect.’

  Holloway grunted disparagingly. ‘This will suit him down to the ground then. He’ll be able to go on forever now that Lee Furnell was the guilty party, with Furnell never able to defend himself.’

  ‘I don’t think this is over yet. I don’t think everything will suddenly end just because the boy is dead.’

  ‘What will you do, Lloyd?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. It’s too early to say, but I guess the detectives will head back to Melbourne soon and say it’s all done and dusted. But it’s not, is it? Someone will have made a mistake, or know something, and in a place like this it’ll come to light. And we can’t let the Quades and the Faradays and the Furnells be nothing more than a dusty file somewhere in a Melbourne office. These are people we know, and we’re not giving up on our own even if others have. Terry, before you go take a few notes about what happened here. Get a photo or two but don’t let Ray see you doing it. I’m going to talk to the ambulance boys.’

  After the body had been taken away, Ray Furnell accompanying his son, Cole and Holloway stood staring down into the grease pit.

  ‘It’s a hard place to die isn’t it?’ Cole said. ‘What was the Furnell’s livelihood here has become the boy’s grave. I don’t think Ray will ever be able to look at it without thinking the same thing, if he can ever look at it again.’

  They drove wearily back to the station where Cole tried to restore some semblance of calm to the place. He sent Janice out to the bakery and those present in the station enjoyed the brief respite of an early morning tea with pastries as they talked their way through the events of the morning.

  As they did, Fielder entered the station with a swagger, a cigarette burning between his fingers. His two underlings were in tow.

  Fielder grinned widely. ‘A celebration is it? I hope you left some for me and the boys.’

  ‘Help yourself to what’s there,’ Cole told him dully.

  Fielder sidled up to him, picked up a coconut slice, examined it disdainfully and put it down again.

  ‘What’s this I hear about a little accident over at Furnell’s garage?’

  ‘You heard right,’ Cole said. ‘Lee Furnell took his own life.’

  Fielder laughed smugly.

  ‘That’s one rotten apple fallen from the tree then. They can bury him now and that’ll mean the end of that, but I’ll need to get over to the garage anyway and have a look-see,’ Fielder said to Cole’s amazement. ‘See if he’s left a written confession anywhere.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ Cole warned.

  ‘Oh? Why not, senior sergeant?’

  ‘Because all you’d be doing would be inflaming the situation. Lee Furnell didn’t kill those two and there won’t be anything to find to say he did. Ray Furnell is beside himself and no doubt the rest of the family is, too. They’ll need some time on their own.’

  ‘It didn’t stop you going there.’

  ‘Of course it didn’t. You know as well as I do that with a death like that we need to attend, so that’s what I’ve done. I’ll write a report for the coroner and it’ll say there was no reason to suspect anyone else but Lee was responsible.’

  ‘Well, that’s the case closed then, isn’t it? What a miserable little rat. He couldn’t even give us the satisfaction of hearing it directly from him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘In his own words. His confession.’

  ‘I don’t think we’re at the end of this yet. Even if he’s dead, there’s still no clear evidence that says he killed Faraday and Quade. And you know I don’t think he killed them.’

  Fielder snorted dismissively. ‘He killed himself because he knew we were closing in on him and that it was only a matter of time. He took the easy way out.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call killing yourself taking the easy way out.’

  ‘You mightn’t. But it was all the pressure and guilt of what he did finally getting the better of him, and in situations like that they turn themselves in or pop themselves off, don’t they? And wasn’t it you who first pinned him as our chief suspect, anyway?’

  ‘I was wrong.’

  ‘Except it now turns out that you were right,’ Fielder countered caustically. ‘The case is as good as shut now Cole, and it’ll be officially so when I get all the paperwork done. All I can say is that it’s a damned shame that Furnell robbed us of the chance to charge and convict him.’

  ‘A damned shame? For who, you? A family lost their son.’

  Fielder turned acidly on him. ‘And see, this here is your problem and why we don’t let small town coppers investigate murders any more. All that happens is that you get too bound up in the emotional side of things and end up feeling sorry for the criminals. This is a new day dawning, Cole. People like you are the old
way.’

  ‘Then I’m happy to be the old way. And you’re part of what happened to Lee Furnell whether you like it or not. We’re all responsible for what happened to him.’

  ‘Who killed Cock Robin? Is that what you’re thinking?’

  ‘Lee didn’t kill Quade and Faraday. I’m sure of it and I’ll keep working on it for as long as it takes. That bashing you gave him after we found him at the Faraday’s was the last straw for him. He couldn’t take it any more.’

  ‘Couldn’t take his guilty conscience, you mean. Well, I’ll be happy to leave you to it, and to this dump of a town. But don’t think you’ll get any support from higher up in your little quest because you won’t. And it might even be considered insubordination, sergeant.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do it my way.’

  ‘I’ll have a special medal cast for you then,’ Fielder said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we’ll be out of this joint as soon as we can be and the quicker the better.’

  As soon as Fielder was out of earshot Holloway added, ‘And hooray for that. He can’t leave fast enough for me.’

  ‘Nor for me,’ Cole agreed, staring into the space where Fielder had been.

  But in that space, something came to him. Fielder. A week or so ago he’d been checking on a car rollover on a dirt road just out of town. On his way back to the station, he’d been no more than a hundred yards onto the main road and working his way up through the gears when a car came alongside and passed him at speed, a vehicle instantly familiar to him as Fielder’s.

  As he’d watched the detective’s Holden stretch the gap between them he’d caught a glimpse of Fielder behind the wheel, and of a woman beside him he could have sworn was Audrey Holloway. Except, what would she have been doing racing along with Fielder?

  He must have been mistaken, he thought.

  Chapter 30

  She’d been left waiting for him again, growing ever more worried someone would see her as she did her best to look nonchalant waiting for Gene Fielder’s car in the side street. He was a full fifteen minutes late.

  ‘We agreed on the time yesterday,’ she scolded him, her nerves jangling. ‘You have to be on time. I feel like a sitting duck just waiting there by the kerb.’

  ‘You don’t think I’ve been up to my neck in it with that Furnell character? And who cares what they think here?’

  ‘I do,’ she said. ‘And that boy killing himself has rattled everyone here, myself included. What a waste.’

  ‘Waste? Good riddance you mean. Who else might he have killed if your friend Cole had let him wander around the town like he owned it?’

  ‘I don’t think he was that kind of child.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t got any idea.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No, none. Zero. Zilch.’

  Fielder accelerated hard and sped out of town.

  ‘I live here and you know that,’ she said. ‘You’ll disappear soon and you won’t think twice about any of this, but I don’t want people talking about me so you shouldn’t have left me waiting in the street. That’s right isn’t it?’

  ‘What’s right?’ he asked as he took the familiar route to the river.

  ‘That you’ll just go and I’ll be nothing more than the subject for gossip here and a distant memory for you?’

  ‘But a pleasant one,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Don’t forget that, Audrey, a real pleasant one.’

  ‘And so that’s all, is it? I’m already nothing more than a memory to you?’ she bit back. ‘What about me going back with you when you leave here?’

  ‘I don’t think I ever said that.’

  ‘Maybe not in as many words, but we did talk about it.’

  ‘Did we? Or did we just say we were going to talk about it? To the best of my recollection, we never did. But don’t get yourself all-a-fluster. Just think of it like it was a summer romance, fun while it lasted.’

  ‘A summer romance,’ she scoffed. ‘Doesn’t it even concern you for a second how I might be left after this?’

  ‘I only worry about the here and now, Audrey,’ he said. ‘There’s no mileage in pinning your hopes on the future. Life’s a game isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not a game to me.’

  But it had become all too clear to her as they pushed on in silence. He was going. She’d be left here high and dry and that would be that. And it probably was nothing more than a game to him. He’d conquered her, won that game, and no doubt that was the end of it for him. He’d take his pleasure where he could and if the thrill wasn’t completely extinguished for her yet she knew it wasn’t far in coming. And who knew what he was telling those other two detectives, what boasting was going on, more than likely even in the station, as he wearied of her or found someone else? The mad risks she had taken had been for what?

  They drove slowly now, taking a dirt road alongside an orchard, a cloud of dust rising after them. He fumbled his pack of cigarettes from a shirt pocket and extracted one with his lips, using the car’s lighter to light it.

  They barely said another word to each other as they edged to where a roll of low cloud hung threateningly over the river. She felt the drop in temperature, the smell of the river almost.

  He pulled up at the same place they always stopped. But he was still annoyed about her questioning of him, she saw. He didn’t want to talk and instead of going out for a walk to the river – their usual course – he sat moodily in the car lighting another cigarette.

  ‘Is this still about what I said to you, or about the case?’ she asked.

  ‘What case?’

  ‘You know what case. The Furnell boy. He’s deprived you of your moment of glory and that’s why you’re like this.’

  ‘Like what?’ he said, still staring through the windshield.

  ‘Sullen. If you don’t want to talk maybe we should go home.’

  ‘Is your old man going on about it at home is he? Getting some joy out of me not being able to make the arrest?’

  ‘No, Terry doesn’t bring his work home. You know that.’

  ‘I don’t think Terry does much of anything at home, does he?’

  ‘That’s cruel and unnecessary, Gene.’

  ‘Is it? Isn’t that the only way you can spark someone to life sometimes? Do them a favour, in spite of themselves?’

  ‘He’s a good man and he never does the wrong thing by anyone.’

  ‘That’s not what his file says.’ He turned on her then. ‘You know he’s got a temper, that he sometimes beats up suspects? Not that anyone would care about that, but I don’t see why you’ve got your rose-coloured glasses on for him, Audrey. He’s the lamest of lame ducks.’

  ‘Perhaps I wear those glasses because he’s my husband, and I because I try to believe the best in people.’

  ‘He’s a jerk, that’s what he is. He thinks he’s a big-time copper in a little stinky pond where husbands can’t even take care of their wives.’

  ‘Is this why you’ve brought me out here today? To ridicule me and Terry?’

  He didn’t answer, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

  She looked out her side window. The air was still on the ground, but when she glanced up she could see a gentle swaying among the tree tops, the shadow of dark cloud higher through the trees.

  ‘Aren’t we getting out of the car today?’ she asked. ‘Or are we just going to sit here admiring the view?’

  But he wouldn’t speak.

  ‘I’m getting out for a walk then,’ she said as she took the door handle.

  ‘No!’ he grabbed her arm. ‘Get in the back.’

  ‘I’m not getting in the back. I’m going for a walk.’

  But he jumped out through his door and was at hers in a flash, dragging it open and grabbing her by the arm, his fingers digging in and pinching her
.

  ‘You’re hurting me!’

  ‘In the back,’ he ordered, one hand on her as the other wrenched the back door open. ‘Get in. On your hands and knees.’

  ‘What are you doing? I said you’re hurting me!’

  ‘On your hands and knees I said.’

  He pushed her into the car.

  ‘I don’t even know what you want me to do,’ she said, frightened by his sudden anger. ‘Gene …’

  ‘Shut up.’

  She felt him unbuckle her sandals and throw them on the floor. Heard his belt being unfastened, her dress going up. Then he ripped down her pants and savagely took her.

  She cried out in pain.

  ‘Isn’t this how a bitch like you wants it, like a dog?’ he snapped.

  There was nothing of his earlier tenderness toward her, just his bitter words and this attack on her. He called her a slut, a fool, every humiliating name.

  When he was finished he casually did up his trousers and got out of the car to lean back on the bonnet and smoke a cigarette.

  She pulled her underwear back on. She did up her sandals. It was all she could do to stop herself from crying. She thought of sunbaking in her yard, the sun full on her, marshalling everything she could to shut out what had just happened.

  That was it. It was over now, she cried inside. Over.

  He turned the car’s engine, the drive back to town passing interminably slowly. She didn’t look at him and nor did he try to speak to her. All she was conscious of were the farms and orchards they drove by, as she blankly recorded small impressions: a barefoot child running along a driveway, Friesian cows milling under the shade of the only tree in a paddock, bulrushes choking the banks of an irrigation channel.

  When they reached Mitchell he wordlessly dumped her outside her house and sped off without so much as a look toward her. She was crying before she even stepped back inside her front door.

  Chapter 31

  Audrey Holloway rose from a dog-dreary sleep and slumped under a hot shower so long she didn’t hear her husband calling out to her, or his leaving for work. She felt shattered, crippled inside. She stared at the white tiles surrounding her, a blizzard of white emerging from them as she took up a bar of soap and pressed it against her face, her eyes shut. But she could have run the town’s water supply dry, and used a million cakes of soap, and still not washed the hateful feeling from her.