The Mak Collection

by Tara Moss

  My God, Makedde must hate me.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you,’ he said. He had spoken with Karen Mahoney about a lot of things, but never his private life.

  ‘You should have seen her, Andy. It was not good.’

  ‘I’ve got to talk to her. Where is she?’

  ‘I’m not sure she’d want me to tell you,’ she replied.

  ‘Hey, fuck off, Mahoney, this is me. Is she at the hotel?’ he demanded.

  ‘Do you promise you’ll be good to her?’ she asked, now obviously playing it up.

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘Yes. She’s at the hotel. I just dropped her off. She should still be there.’

  ‘I’m heading there now. If you happen to speak to her before I do, tell her it wasn’t like that, okay? Tell her I’ll explain when I get there.’

  ‘No probs. Geez, I sure wish I was a fly on the wall for this,’ Mahoney said. ‘I’d really like to see you talk your way out of this one.’

  Andy didn’t bother to explain any further. He scooped up his jacket and left as fast as he could.

  He ran into Hunt and Deller in the elevator. ‘If anyone comes looking for me I’m heading out for about an hour,’ he told them.

  Constable Hunt looked alarmed. ‘You’re not thinking about—’

  Andy read his mind. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere near our star prisoner. I’ll be back in an hour.’

  Andy parked near Mak’s hotel, and wasted no time sprinting up to her room. He knocked lightly on the door three times.

  ‘Makedde, it’s me,’ he announced, standing in the hall.

  He knocked again when she didn’t answer. Please be here. Come on…

  ‘Mak?’

  Eventually he heard slow footsteps and saw her peer through the peephole at him.

  ‘It’s me, Andy,’ he said. ‘Please open up.’

  ‘This isn’t a good time, Andy,’ came her voice through the door. ‘Can I call you later?’

  Fuck!

  ‘No, no, no don’t do this,’ he pleaded. ‘I need to talk to you now.’

  There was a pause. She still had not opened the door for him.

  ‘Come on, don’t make me do this through the damn door, Mak. Open up.’

  Nothing. No response.

  It was hardly a surprise that she was upset if she thought he had gone on a hot lunch date with someone else straight after leaving her in bed. With regard to situations like that, men and women were predictably the same. Unfortunately, things between them had been shaky as it was. He had made a lot of mistakes in the past, he knew that. But meeting with Carol should not have been a mistake—that was the most maddening thing. He had been trying to do the right thing. Should he have first told Mak that he was meeting Carol? He wasn’t sure.

  Andy wasn’t going to budge from that door until he had the opportunity to explain what had really happened. Otherwise, Makedde might convince herself never to see him again.

  ‘Mak,’ he implored. ‘Please open the door. Come on—’

  ‘I’m doing it. Hold on.’

  Finally Makedde undid the chain and opened up. The first thing he noticed was her red, but dry, eyes. It was clear she had been crying earlier but was composed now. The impassive expression on her face was as impenetrable as a sealed bank vault, and she had her arms tightly crossed. He knew the look well. This was not the first time he had inspired it.

  ‘Hi,’ she said simply, and stepped back so he could come in. She closed the door behind him.

  He walked up to her and took her by the elbows. She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t flinch away. ‘I want you to know that I am not seeing Carol,’ he said.

  ‘That’s fine, Andy.’

  ‘I’m serious. I know what you think you saw. Mahoney told me.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’ Mak said, her words trailing off. She shook her head and stepped away from him.

  ‘I just don’t want you thinking that Carol and I are dating any more,’ he insisted. ‘We’re not. We haven’t been seeing each other for a while.’

  Yeah, like since this morning, he could imagine her thinking.

  ‘If that is what you want me to know, I believe you.’ She had turned to face the window.

  ‘Come on, Mak.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can do this right now.’

  Andy went to her and squeezed her hands in his. ‘Mak.’

  She did not respond to him. Her eyes were on his, perhaps searching for whether or not he was telling the truth.

  ‘Come on, Mak. I don’t want you thinking that what you saw was some kind of date, because it wasn’t.’

  She was exhausted. She was without the playful buoyancy he had seen that morning. Her shoulders were hunched, her head hanging.

  ‘I feel…confused,’ she said. ‘I really don’t think this is a good time for us to talk about things. Just give me a little time.’

  Damn!

  ‘Despite what you might think, I’m not angry with you,’ she went on. ‘I just want to be alone for a little while. It’s been a very eventful couple of days and I really need some time to myself. Things are probably…moving too fast. I know that is my fault, not yours. I’m not blaming you.’

  Andy felt powerless. What could he say?

  ‘Can I call you later, Andy? I’m sorry to do this, but I don’t want to say or do anything that I might regret later.’

  That sounded ominous.

  ‘When’s your flight booked to go home?’ he dared to ask.

  ‘My ticket doesn’t have me returning for another week,’ she said, and his heart lifted. That meant he still had time.

  ‘If you came here wanting me to know that you aren’t dating that woman any more, that’s fine. I believe you,’ she said. ‘I have to admit it was a bit of a shock to see you with her, especially so soon after…but it’s none of my business, really. You’re entitled to do whatever you want. I don’t want you thinking that just because of last night…and this morning…that I suddenly think we have some kind of commitment to one another, that I think you owe me some kind of exclusivity. I don’t.’

  Andy listened and watched, his heart sinking. She had clearly been jealous and upset over Carol in the first place, and now she was closed off, protecting herself. He knew what she was like when she shut down like that. In some ways he wished she would just blow up at him, pound his chest and slap his face, maybe. He knew she wouldn’t. Makedde wasn’t the type. She would be maddeningly nice instead. Logical, nice, closed…

  ‘I see,’ he replied, unsettled by her cold words. ‘So let me get this right. You’re saying that it didn’t mean anything to you? One last fuck for good luck, was that it?’

  ‘Andy!’ Her head snapped up to look at him with surprise. ‘No, I’m not saying that. Don’t be like that. That’s not fair. I’m just saying, well…’ She paused and took a deep breath. He could see by the moisture in the corners of her eyes that her armour was slowly breaking down. ‘I’m saying it was wonderful to be with you again, but really, it was probably a mistake, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, Mak, don’t say that. Say what you want, but just don’t say it was a mistake. I don’t think it was a mistake at all.’ Her brow was pinched. ‘You don’t believe me about Carol,’ he said.

  ‘If you’re telling me that nothing was going on with her today, then I have to believe you. I trust you. It’s just that this is all a bit sudden. You were involved with someone else. I don’t want to get in the way.’

  ‘In the way! Carol and I aren’t together any more, I’m telling you.’

  ‘And when did you break up? Today?’

  She had him there.

  ‘I thought I should tell her in person…’ he faltered.

  ‘Do you see what I mean?’ Her eyes were glittery now, her cheeks flushed. ‘It seems like every time we get together, something happens. Like today when I saw you with Carol. And like that phone call a couple of months ago when you said you wanted to see other pe
ople. I don’t think it should be like this.’

  ‘Wait…did you just say that I said we should see other people?’ Andy asked, surprised.

  ‘Well, yes.’

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  That wasn’t how he remembered it. He thought she was the one who’d suggested they see other people. Hadn’t she said it first? Was it another of their damn misunderstandings? She must have thought he suggested it just so that he could be free to date Carol. No wonder she was hurt when she saw them together.

  Andy felt his body tense up with frustration. He was angry, though not really at Makedde. It had not exactly been a smooth road for them, not by anyone’s standards. He supposed that was what he was pissed off about the most. They had such bad luck together. It wasn’t fair. He paced the hotel room, frowning. What was he supposed to say to her? ‘I’m sorry’? For what? He couldn’t beg. That wasn’t in his repertoire, and besides, he doubted it would have much effect on her. And he hadn’t done anything wrong! She suggested they see other people, and he had. Or at least that was how he remembered the conversation. And then he was meant to feel guilty about it after she had suggested it herself? And when he tried to do the right thing and break it off with Carol in person, he got to be a bad guy for that too?

  Bloody hell. He stretched up and pressed his hands against the wall. It was all he could do to stop himself from punching a hole in the plaster. He’d tried to get over Makedde before, but he could never quite get her off his mind. It scared him sometimes. And if she left now he knew he was going to suffer over her worse than ever.

  ‘Can I call you tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘How about tomorrow? Is that okay?’

  A cooling-off period. Great.

  ‘Sure.’ What could he say?

  If there was one thing he wanted to change in that moment, it was for him to be able to find the right words for once. He had never been good at stuff like that.

  ‘I can’t win a trick,’ Andy said, feeling miserable and already visualising a bottle of Jack Daniels with dangerous clarity. ‘I can’t win one single measly trick.’

  Jimmy grinned from one side of his mouth, as if the news were somehow amusing to him. He rubbed his dark stubble, eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘So you did what with Carol while Mak was watching?’

  ‘Nothing, that’s what,’ Andy insisted. ‘I was just talking to her. She might have kissed me on the cheek or something, I think. Or maybe it was on the lips. I can’t remember.’

  ‘Uh huh. In front of Mak?’

  ‘And Mahoney. She said it looked like we were snogging each other.’

  ‘Hmmm. I want your life, I really do. The supermodel, the sexy nurse and the policewoman. I could get used to that.’

  Andy wasn’t in the mood for Jimmy’s quips.

  ‘I reckon you’re fucked.’

  ‘Thanks. No really, thank you so much for your encouragement.’

  ‘You’re going to chase after her?’

  ‘I’m not chasing anyone,’ Andy said. ‘I just need to talk to her. What really shits me is that everything was going fine, more than fine, until she saw me with Carol. What a fluke. I can’t win a trick, honestly. I wasn’t even trying to get away with anything.’

  ‘Now, if you were kissing ’em both at the same time you’d be a legend.’ Jimmy thought a bit more. ‘Or if you got them to kiss each other, like Britney and Madonna. Mmmm, now that’s—’

  ‘Get fucked.’

  Jimmy was on a roll, inspired by Andy’s predicament. ‘I’d love to get fucked,’ he went on, ‘but the old lady’s got me rooting her by appointment. It’s all, “Don’t touch me!” and then, “Do the deed now,” and legs in the air for half an hour afterwards. We didn’t have to do all this crap for the first three. My momma, bless her,’ he crossed himself, ‘popped the five of us out like she was shellin’ peas. Nothin’ to it.’

  At least he had changed the subject.

  ‘So tell me about today,’ Andy said.

  ‘Yeah, you’ll love this. Guess where Ed leads us?’

  ‘I know, a petrol station. I heard,’ Andy told him.

  ‘Can you believe that shit?’ Jimmy threw his hands in the air.

  ‘It’s original, I have to admit, and no, I don’t believe it. He says he buried this girl deep? Pretty convenient at a petrol station where we’re going to need a ground-penetrating radar system to find anything. And since when does he bury his victims instead of leaving them in a heap under some brush?’

  Now Jimmy rubbed his stomach, as if craving some unseen gyros or an ice-cream sundae. ‘I dunno, Andy. I dunno. All I know is I can’t wait to see the last of this fuckin’ malaka. He makes my arse itch.’

  ‘What also bothers me,’ Andy said, ‘is that I can’t figure his reasons for confessing in the first place. He doesn’t seem the type. Did that seem like classic bragging rights to you? Myself, I’m not so sure.’

  Jimmy rooted around in the top drawer of his desk and fished out a chocolate bar. He ripped it open with his teeth and started to gnaw on it. Once he had eaten most of it, he offered Andy the stubby remnant. Andy declined. ‘The guy’s a freak but you said yourself that he ain’t so dumb,’ Jimmy observed between mouthfuls. ‘He must’ve known he was fucked. If this was Texas they’d fry him a dozen times just for the hell of it. He’s campaigning for a better sentence.’

  Andy didn’t think that was the answer. He knew the cockiness of the average psychopath was boundless. All the evidence and guilt in the world couldn’t get them down because they think they’re invincible.

  ‘Any clue about what’s next?’

  ‘First we check out the story about the petrol station, then they throw away the key—I hope. We should know in the next few hours.’

  ‘Why confess and then lead you to a body dump if it’s a crock? What could he be trying to achieve?’ Andy asked, thinking out loud.

  ‘Jerking us around, that’s what. He’s just taking us for one last ride. Maybe his lawyer talked him into confessing and this is his way of fucking us around for a thrill. His swan song.’

  ‘I’m not convinced. Granger looked pretty shocked. Did you see his face?’

  Ed’s QC had looked shocked, along with everyone else in the courtroom. Andy doubted very much that Granger had known what Ed was about to do. Perhaps even Ed himself hadn’t known that he was going to do it? Andy wished he had seen it first hand.

  ‘Well, we ain’t gonna know much until we get back the info on that petrol station. If it’s been round for much more than four years we can happily hand him back to the judge and they can forget getting any special privileges from anyone, except maybe Big Bert.’ Jimmy took the last bite of his chocolate bar. ‘Yup, Big Bert’s always got somethin’ special for lady killers.’

  He smiled chocolate.

  CHAPTER 21

  Suzie Harpin carefully slid her key into the lock, struggling while balancing her precious cargo. She looked over her left shoulder and noticed with satisfaction that the lines of shrubs down the driveway effectively masked her from the view of the street. She had a story worked out for the neighbours, but still, she preferred privacy. Privacy was always best, especially if she decided to move her brother at some point.

  The box she held fluttered and scraped. A chirp. A quiver. The delicate noises lifted Suzie’s heart. ‘You’re almost home, Rose,’ she said. ‘Almost home.’ Without further delay she turned the key and pushed the door open with her foot. She would have to come down again to collect the other things from the car. Once inside the house, Suzie made immediately for the kitchen counter to set her things down. Excited, she shoved the groceries to one side, and with a great rush of maternal emotion opened the shoebox just a touch to peer inside. She couldn’t wait any longer.

  Agapornis roseicollis.

  ‘Hello, Rose. Welcome to your new home,’ she said to her newly purchased red and green peachface lovebird. The creature stared at her with shiny, fearful eyes. She shut the box and gently stroked t
he lid. ‘Good girl.’

  Suzie scuttled over to a bell-shaped cage, which took pride of place in the centre of her brand-new living room. A black cloth lay over it. She lifted the cloth slowly, and frowned when she saw the dead lovebird on the bottom of the cage inside. It looked impossibly small and frail. The pretty colours had faded, the little eyes sealed shut. This bird had never quite lived up to her promise and beauty, and now she was gone. She had become unresponsive in the days before her death, sitting puffed up and inert, refusing food and water, her feathers turning dull. The move to her new, luxurious home had not helped at all. Suzie knew the breed well, and had seen it before. Thankfully, Irving, Suzie’s pet-shop owner, had been able to provide a new one right away. She had hoped for a Danish violet white face, considered one of the most beautiful of the peachface mutations, but this new bird was available and she took it. She wanted everything in the house to be right for her new life there, and that meant little Rose sitting prettily on her perch.

  Suzie had a particular affection for lovebirds. For the past two decades she had always kept one as a pet, and they had always been called Rose, the name which Suzie, as a pregnant teenager, had chosen for her unborn daughter. Some of her birds had been male, some female, but the name remained the same. This was her twentieth ‘Rose’.

  Suzie scooped the dead lovebird out of the cage into a plastic shopping bag. She took it outside, down the staircase and into the carport, and placed it in the garbage bin. Tomorrow would be collection day.

  Once back inside, Suzie changed out of her uniform and slipped on her fleecy spotted pyjamas and slippers, which were lying across her new bed. On the bedside table, awaiting her further study, was a copy of The Anarchist’s Cookbook. She would get back to that later.

  With growing excitement, she made her way back to her new pet.

  ‘Rose, darling, welcome.’