The Girl with the Gold Bikini

by Lisa Walker

  ‘He’s still missing, though,’ says Brandon. ‘It looks bad.’

  Luna shrugs. ‘Never mind Ajay. Check this out.’ She opens the sports bag she’s carrying.

  Inside is a bundle of what look like singlets. I pick one up.

  ‘Don’t take it out,’ Luna hisses.

  I unfold the singlet inside the bag, noting its unusual design. Suddenly Luna’s plan is clear. My stomach sinks.

  ‘They’re fantastic, aren’t they?’ Luna giggles. ‘They’re made of hemp, too. Okay, where are we hiding out, pod buddy?’

  ‘Over in the staff rooms,’ says Brandon.

  I hesitate as Luna and Brandon head off. I’m here under false pretences. I’m not convinced dolphin action is my thing.

  Luna glances back. ‘What’s up, Olivia? Don’t you want to help the dolphins?’

  What sort of a question’s that? I may as well admit to being a granny-killing psychopath. Reluctantly, I slink after them.

  37

  Luna and I wait outside until the other John Travoltas leave then Brandon ushers us into their changing room and opens the cupboard door.

  ‘We’ll wait in here until it’s all quiet,’ he says.

  We stand in the cupboard for a long time. Brandon breathes into my ear. I’m not sure if it’s deliberate, but I jab him with my elbow anyway.

  Luna is a bundle of nerves, dancing around on the spot and snorting impatiently. ‘Can we go yet?’ she whispers.

  ‘Soon.’ Brandon’s breath tickles my ear again. I stamp on his foot. ‘Anger management,’ he murmurs.

  ‘Manage your own anger,’ I mutter back.

  While we wait, I rehearse ways to tell Luna a dolphin protest isn’t my thing. It doesn’t bother me that much if dolphins are held in captivity. Or, I know it’s stressful for them to be kept here, but it’s not my issue. Or, I’m with you in spirit, but I can’t afford to get a criminal record.

  It’s no good. There’s no way I can get out of this without looking bad. In fact, the more I think about it the more I feel Luna is right. Sure, I’d enjoyed the dolphin show, but in hindsight hadn’t it been a little degrading making them do those tricks? It’s like that old argument about pornography: the women are doing it because they want to. Well, maybe, but it doesn’t make it right. People will do all sorts of things for money—or, in this case, fish.

  At last the noise dies down outside. We open the door and Luna springs out like a jack-in-the-box. I dislodge a broom from my back and follow her. The changing room is pitch black. We shuffle forwards with our hands held out in front.

  ‘We’ll need to watch out for security guards,’ Brandon says, opening the door.

  Ocean World is a different place without the crowds. It’s kind of spooky. We follow a shadowy laneway. Luna takes the lead, followed by Brandon, then me.

  ‘Hide,’ Brandon hisses.

  We duck into the aquarium doorway as a security guard’s torchlight approaches, then recedes.

  Before long we’re at the dolphin pools.

  ‘How’s this going to work, Luna?’ says Brandon.

  ‘It’ll be fine. I’m a dolphin whisperer.’ Luna pulls a small esky from her bag. ‘And I’ve got fish.’ She begins to pull a long piece of material out. ‘Olivia, string this up along the fence while Brandon and I work with the dolphins.’

  Great. I get to put up a banner while Luna and Brandon cuddle the dolphins. Just because I wasn’t a whale in my past life. I tie one corner of the banner and stretch it out. Its message appears to have been developed by a committee.

  I glance over at Luna, who is in the water up to her waist, waving a fish. ‘It’s a bit wordy.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s hard when you’re working with two groups. We had to get the WAG and the WAM messages on it. I think it worked in the end, though.’

  Luna and Brandon fit a hemp singlet to the first dolphin. Luna begins to sing.

  ‘Is that Spanish or Portuguese?’ I call in a low voice.

  Luna ignores this. ‘Hey, Olivia. She wants to say hello to you.’ She waves me towards the pool.

  I step across the grass. ‘What, it specifically asked for me?’

  Luna nods. ‘Yeah, she did. She says she’s excited to see you and she asks for a meeting of heart, soul and mind.’

  Yeah right. I do like Luna, but … I look at the dolphin. She is lying in the shallows. Her dark eyes meet mine. My trouble, I suppose, is that I can be suggestible. I go with the flow, even if I feel weird about it. Besides, it’s flattering, the dolphin wanting to meet me. I wade into the water.

  ‘You know, Olivia, dolphins can see right inside your body with their sonar,’ says Luna.

  ‘Yeah, I studied biology at school.’

  ‘I bet they didn’t tell you they can see your emotions too. There’s no lying to a dolphin.’

  That’s a scary thought if it’s true. ‘Should I touch her?’

  ‘She’d like that I think.’

  I bend over and lay my hand on the dolphin’s head, in front of her blow hole. She is smooth and rubbery. A puff of air comes out of her hole.

  ‘Brandon and I had better move on to the next dolphin,’ says Luna.

  I feel like I’m being deserted at a party by the only person I know. ‘Aren’t you going to stay and interpret for me?’

  ‘Just feel it with your heart.’ Luna and Brandon move down the pool towards the next dolphin.

  I crouch. ‘So, hi dolphin.’ A kind of peace creeps over me as I squat in the water. I try to open my mind and commune with her on a deeper level. I can sense the intelligence behind her dark eyes. It’s calming.

  Brandon and Luna have just fitted the singlet to the next dolphin when we hear voices. They’re at a distance, but coming closer. I stand.

  ‘Quick, take the photo,’ says Luna.

  Brandon pulls a phone from his pocket. He snaps a photo of the banner, my dolphin lying in the shallows and … the money shot. The second dolphin leaps from the water in front of the banner. The words on the singlet are the same as the banner—‘Would you eat us? No McSushi for Byron Bay. Let the dolphins swim free.’

  I don’t bother to point out that dolphins aren’t on the menu at McSushi. It’s the vibe that counts.

  The footsteps come closer.

  I wave at my dolphin. She flicks her tail and swims off into the deep.

  ‘Split up,’ whispers Luna. ‘Make sure the photo gets to the media.’

  Brandon nods and we all run in different directions.

  It’s lucky I’m familiar with Ocean World. Running away from the voices, I swing left and duck into the shark viewing tunnel. Outside, three policemen run past, Dan Ferris in the lead. He is puffing, but surprisingly fast for a guy carrying so much weight. I press myself against the tunnel wall. If they find me I’ll never work as a PI again. Or a lawyer. Maybe I never will anyway, but it’s best to keep my options open.

  It’s surprisingly noisy here in the tunnel tonight. Music is pumping out over the speakers. Salt-n-Pepa’s ‘Push it’ is finishing and Joe Cocker kicks off with ‘Leave Your Hat on’. Weird choice of music.

  The dark silhouettes of the sharks appear out of the gloom, swim along the glass and disappear again. A groper big enough to swallow me whole idles past as Justin Timberlake sings ‘Rock Your Body’. Who’s programming this music? Someone with an eclectic taste, that’s for sure. But why?

  Bob Marley follows, then we’re back to Salt-n-Pepa, Joe and Justin. There are only four songs on rotation. The stingrays press themselves against the glass, their mouths gaping. The sharks go past again, and the groper. The wildlife is on rotation too. It’s mesmerising—boring after a while, but at the same time somehow enchanting. Enchantingly boring. As ‘Push it’ starts for the third time I decide it’s safe to come out.

  I follow the tunnel up to the platform that runs around the top of the shark pool. The music’s even louder here. Rock Your Body reads the heading on a sign on the edge of the pool. At last, some explanation. The sign explains
that research has proved these four songs are the most likely to put sharks in a sexy mood. In an effort to encourage mating, they’re being played constantly.

  Interesting. Clearly the sexy music compilation is a concept shared between species. I envisage the male shark leaning over in the car and selecting Salt-n-Pepa. This’ll get her going.

  What would do it for dolphins? Enya maybe? They’d have to be more spiritual than sharks.

  I gaze into the pool. From here on the deck the water is inky. I know sharks are more active at night but only an occasional fin breaks the surface. There’s no sign they’re boogieing. My mind goes back to Ajay. Who threw that fake arm in? And why?

  It would have to be someone who has access to Ocean World. That means a staff member like Brandon, or someone a staff member would let in. Like a member of WAG. That brings me back to Luna, or a member of her group.

  Something rustles behind me. I spin around, hoping the cops haven’t sprung me. ‘Madeleine?’

  38

  Madeleine’s pale skin glows in the dim lighting. She’s only a few metres away. As she steps towards me her red hair lifts in the breeze. As always, she is immaculately made-up. Today her leggings are neon blue with a white shark pattern. Her feet are bare, which explains how she’d sneaked up on me.

  ‘Enjoying the music?’ she murmurs in her breathy voice.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ My mind’s working overtime.

  ‘I heard there was a WAG action on.’ She’s close enough now for a whiff of perfume to reach my nostrils.

  ‘You’re a bit late.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame. Was it successful?’

  ‘It was until the police came. Didn’t you see them?’

  Madeleine twirls a strand of hair between her fingers. ‘No. Did they catch anyone?’

  I can’t take any more of her Miss Innocent routine. ‘I saw you in the café with Brooklyn. You sent the police, didn’t you?’

  Madeleine blinks. ‘No. Why would I do that?’

  ‘Why are you siding with Brooklyn, with McSushi? Didn’t you say it’s worse to eat whales than to eat people?’

  ‘I’m not siding with McSushi. Brooklyn and I are … well, never mind that.’ She walks closer until her shoulder is brushing mine. ‘You’re a PI, aren’t you?’

  Talk about the worst-kept secret ever.

  ‘You weren’t a very good yoga instructor.’

  I don’t like her tone. ‘Well, maybe you wouldn’t make a very good PI.’

  Her green eyes widen. ‘Oh, I would.’

  ‘You would?’ She has something she wants to tell me. I just have to let it come out.

  ‘Better than you.’

  There’s something I’ve missed, something big and she wants to rub it in. ‘That wouldn’t be hard. I’m not a PI anymore anyway. I’ve resigned.’

  Madeleine tilts her head.

  ‘Didn’t get on with the boss.’ Something tells me this is the right thing to say.

  ‘Tell me about it.’ Madeleine’s eyes meet mine. ‘I’ve worked for Ajay for almost two years.’ A fin slides past us to the tune of ‘No Woman No Cry’. ‘And I’m still a junior instructor. It’s not right. I’m an amazing yoga teacher. I know I am. I live for yoga.’

  I remember the website—I didn’t like the way he humiliated his instructor. ‘Did he give you a hard time?’

  Madeleine’s hands grip the railing. ‘I tried to make my headstands perfect.’

  ‘They looked good to me.’

  Madeleine’s lip curls. ‘They were perfect—perfect. But he always slapped me, always. I’d see that tattoo coming at me and it was like he hated me. That man in lotus position on his wrist,’ she shudders. ‘It haunted me.’

  I think I’ve heard enough. I edge away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Madeleine grasps my arm. ‘He shouldn’t have slapped me in front of all those people.’ Her hands dig into my flesh. ‘I tried so hard. I was up to two hours of headstands a day.’

  ‘That’s a lot.’

  Madeleine’s face contorts. ‘But I still couldn’t get ahead.’

  ‘So what did you do? Where’s Ajay now?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’

  I try to loosen my arm from her hold, but all those years of yoga have made her strong. Where are the police? I strain my eyes for torchlight, weighing up the pros and cons of trying to attract their attention. On one hand, it would confirm Dan Ferris’s suspicions about me—ugly. On the other hand …

  ‘I’m the senior instructor at Lighthouse Bliss now he’s gone.’ She smiles. ‘I’m practically a yoga rock star. It’s my job to keep speed yoga going. Rochelle hasn’t got a clue. She’ll take her share of the money, but she doesn’t understand. It’s not about money, it’s about enlightenment. That guru passed his secret on to Ajay. It’s my duty to carry that on.’

  ‘It was a con, Madeleine. There was no guru, no India, no speed yoga. Brandon made it up.’

  ‘Brandon?’ For a moment she loosens her grip, but she tightens it again. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  I don’t like the look in her eyes. I yank my arm away but she won’t let go. I kick out at her shin, but she’s too quick.

  Bending, she grasps my legs and tips me backwards over the fence.

  I hang out over the inky water, struggling to get back up. ‘Help, police,’ I yell, the pros suddenly outweighing the cons.

  A large fin slices the surface below as Salt-n-Pepa croon for me to ‘Push it’. Twisting, I grab her hair trying to pull myself back over the fence. Madeleine prises my fingers free. Heaving my legs up she gives a push and I hit the water.

  39

  I come up spluttering. The water is cold and dark. Justin Timberlake is rocking his body, but mine is one big mass of terror. I try to suppress it—the water, the darkness—but the memory returns. The moon-shiny darkness. The push from behind …

  ‘I warned you with the poster, but you kept snooping around. Snooping, snooping, snooping.’ Madeleine’s face is pale behind the fence.

  I snap back to the present, lunging for the edge, but the pool is landscaped with a steep, rocky ledge on this side. I can’t get out. I tread water, willing myself to stay calm, to think my way out of this. Don’t panic. Panic attracts sharks. Will singing Taylor Swift songs repel them? It’s no good; I can’t remember any. I’ll have to hope Justin is making them so sexy they’re more interested in mating than eating.

  Madeleine peers over at me. ‘Olivia, calm down. Just speak to the sharks. Pay your respects. If you respect them, they’ll respect you. You’re in their home, after all.’

  Something brushes against my leg, scraping like coarse sandpaper. I scream. A fin as big as my head slices through the water towards me. I scream again. My breath comes in jagged gasps as a tide of panic rises again. The darkness, the water.

  Something big bumps against me again, rasping my leg as it moves past. I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding. Blood attracts sharks. I have to get out of here.

  ‘They’re not going to eat you. Just tell them you don’t mean them any harm,’ Madeleine calls. ‘You’re probably frightening them.’

  The fin disappears. I circle, looking for it. The ledge is lower on the other side of the pool. It’s scary going further in instead of out, but I strike out for it.

  It feels like the longest swim I’ve ever done. I keep swimming, as hard as I can, but the edge never comes any closer. Every second is a heart-thumping, fear-wracked eternity. I’m shaking by the time I reach the other side. Shadows move beneath me as I scrabble at the edge. I pull myself out, slumping onto the deck beside the pool, trembling. Behind me I imagine I hear the flick of a shark’s tail.

  Over the other side of the pool Madeleine has faded into the darkness.

  ‘Holy cow, you’re a thrillseeker, Olivia.’ A figure vaults the fence, runs up to me and kneels beside me.

  I look at him. What’s Rosco doing here?

  He touches my arm and scans my face as Joe Cocker suggests
I take my coat off. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Madeleine …’ I look into his eyes. I wish he’d put his arms around me. ‘She pushed me in.’

  ‘The yoga instructor? But why?’

  I shiver, but I’m not sure if it’s from the cold. ‘I think she might have killed Ajay.’

  ‘What? Really?’ He frowns, then gives a tentative smile. ‘I thought maybe you’d decided to take a swim with the sharks.’

  ‘Do I seem like a swim-with-sharks kind of person to you?’

  His hand is still on my arm. ‘I’m not sure if I know what kind of person you are anymore.’

  We are quiet for a while and Rosco leans closer. I can feel his breath on my face. My stomach flips as he touches my hair and pulls a leaf out of it, his fingers brushing my cheek. ‘You never used to be this crazy.’ His voice is low.

  ‘We should go after her.’

  ‘Let the police pick her up.’ Rosco takes off his sweatshirt. ‘Here, put this on. You’re shivering.’

  I hesitate, then pull his sweatshirt over my head and dig my hands into the pockets. This is becoming a habit.

  ‘We’re trespassing. We should get out of here.’ He stands up and puts out his hand, pulling me to my feet. He holds onto my hand for a little longer than necessary before letting go.

  ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’

  ‘Your grandmother was worried when you didn’t get home for dinner. She called me and said you’d gone to Ocean World this afternoon. I told her I’d check it out.’

  ‘She didn’t need to do that.’ James was right; there is something ludicrous about a private investigator living with their grandmother.

  ‘I saw the police cars out the front and put two and two together.’ Rosco glances over at the shark pool. ‘It was lucky I heard you splashing around.’

  I feel embarrassed now. ‘It was all in hand.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, sorry to interrupt your swim.’ Rosco thrusts his hands in his jeans pockets. His eyes flicker down my legs. ‘You’re bleeding.’

  I glance down. A red gravel rash covers my right calf, below my cargo shorts. A queasy feeling rises inside me. ‘It’s nothing. Let’s get out of here.’