The Mak Collection

by Tara Moss

  Ed watched them disappear in the rear-view mirror.

  He smiled.

  CHAPTER 25

  Andy sped toward the Prince of Wales Hospital, still barely able to register the news. He felt numb, like a distant observer separated from his own body. With a tense grip he drove his car on automatic pilot, fighting to block out the emotion and fear, and the dark conclusions running through his mind. Ed Brown is out. Jimmy is injured. The news was inconceivable, the consequences grave. One of Australia’s most notorious serial killers was at large, having escaped directly from the custody of the New South Wales police—out of their very own hands, a damning reality. The escape would trigger a public outcry, and quite possibly another Royal Commission. Someone would have to pay, and if they did not act fast to bring him in, more lives would be at risk, Makedde’s in particular.

  Lewis had better have some answers, he thought. Some bloody good answers.

  The traffic was against him. He was only halfway to the hospital and already he found himself at a standstill. This was not the time for Andy to exercise patience. If Jimmy, his partner and loyal friend of many years, was badly hurt and fucking died on the surgeon’s table while Andy was sitting in some mindless traffic jam, that would be the end of it. Andy would never be able to forgive himself.

  He flicked on his siren with a loud whoop. A man in the car next to him jumped in his seat, startled by the noise. Drivers and passengers gawked, and yet the traffic did not move. He leaned out the window and yelled at the car ahead of him. ‘Come on, let’s move!’ Andy laid in on his horn with all his might, as if that would somehow encourage the cars to move more effectively. It did not work.

  Warm tears welled in his eyes, and now they began to spill over. Andy did not acknowledge them, did not wipe them away. He simply rolled down the window of his car and yelled, ‘MOVE IT!’

  The siren continued to flash and holler. A space opened up on the opposite side of the road and Andy wasted no time in driving straight over the divider into the oncoming lane, scraping his muffler across the top of the concrete. Cars came to a screeching halt. Mouths gaped. He sped through, his heart heavy like a block of ice in his chest. He had to get there fast. He had to know what had happened. He had to know where things stood. He had to see Jimmy.

  ‘Are you immediate family?’ the nurse asked.

  Andy was slick with sweat. He had been stopped just beyond the main reception area of the hospital. His heart pounded in his chest. It was hard to think.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, are you immediate family?’ the nurse asked again when he failed to respond.

  Speechless with grief and anger, Andy flashed his badge and tried to shove past. She put up a hand to hold him back.

  ‘I am Detective Senior Sergeant Andrew Flynn,’ he explained. ‘My colleagues are in here. My partner, Jimmy Cassimatis, is here. I need to see him now,’ he demanded, somehow managing composed speech.

  She pursed her lips. ‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat.’

  What?

  Andy shook his head, and ignoring her instruction tried to walk past her again. She put a hand against his shoulder. He wanted to break it off. A young nurse. Bloody hell. What was she doing?

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, I’m going to have to insist you take a seat in the reception area.’

  ‘I’m not taking a damn seat.’ In the midst of his anger a moment of inspiration. Carol. ‘Is Carol Richardson here?’

  ‘Why, yes she is.’ Recognition flashed across the nurse’s features. ‘Wait here.’

  ‘I need to see Carol Richardson immediately. I’ll be the one searching the damn halls.’ The inexperienced nurse looked gobsmacked as he pushed past her and strode down the corridor towards the elevator. Where would they be? Emergency? Which direction was it again? He should know. He’d been there so many times. His wits had left him. He was panicking.

  Carol was quick to find him. He spotted her jogging down the hall towards him in her whites, her pretty blonde hair pulled into a bun.

  ‘Andy! They told me you were here. It’s terrible what’s happened. I’m so sorry.’

  She ran up to him and hugged him briefly. He was as rigid as a plank. She pulled away.

  ‘Where’s Jimmy?’ he said bluntly.

  Carol took him by the hand and led him around a corner and down a different corridor away from the reception area. ‘Andy, I know you must be upset, but I think you should try to calm down.’

  ‘Carol,’ he said and stopped in the hall, ‘just tell me where the fuck Jimmy is and get the fuck out of the way.’

  His words gave her pause. Her eyes widened, the mascara-coated lashes batting once, twice. She was clearly shocked by his manner. Truthfully, he was too.

  Andy realised he was being rude and unreasonable, but he was unable to apologise. He needed to find Lewis, or someone who could tell him what had happened. He needed to get the lowdown on Jimmy and on Ed Brown.

  ‘Where’s Senior Sergeant Lewis?’ he demanded.

  ‘Room 311,’ she said softly and pointed towards the elevators.

  No sooner had the words left her lips than Andy was jogging down the hallway away from her. Carol let him go, helplessly. She knew him well enough to know she should not get in his way when he was like this.

  Room 311. He stopped at the door. There were four beds in the ward. Inspector Kelley was already there. He looked pale. He noticed Andy at the doorway and they exchanged glances. There was a hard look in Kelley’s eyes, a battle-weary expression Andy had only seen a handful of times. ‘Officers down…We have officers down.’ Kelley gave a nod and rose from his seat beside the bed of one of the men. Andy couldn’t identify the patient because his head was so heavily bandaged. Is that Jimmy?

  ‘Flynn,’ Kelley acknowledged him gravely, joining him in the hallway.

  ‘Holy fucking Mother of God,’ Andy said softly under his breath. ‘Who is that?’

  ‘Symond. Half his face is gone.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Ed had the place booby-trapped, it looks like. Some kind of explosive.’ He cast his eyes over the men in the room, and back to Andy. ‘There was no body. It was a trick.’

  My God, Andy thought.

  ‘A booby trap? How?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. We’re getting statements from the guys who can speak. They were in some kind of underground tunnel system in Cape Banks when it happened. A couple of constables were on the surface and didn’t get hit. They say they heard something, but couldn’t be sure what it was. One of them went down and saw that it was a mess. And no sign of our prisoner. They quickly raised the alarm.’

  Where would Ed get explosives? How?

  ‘Lewis is fine, apart from some shock and temporary hearing loss. He was furthest from the blast, they think. He was across the room with Ed.’

  Andy frowned. And the men under his command are dying…

  ‘Hoosier might be blinded. The doctors say it’s fifty–fifty he gets his sight back. The crime-scene guys didn’t fare so well. Neither did audiovisual. They were right up close to the explosion. Parker lost fingers. Flemming lost an arm. Then there was shrapnel ripping through everything. The doctors think they will recover their hearing. We don’t know what kind of explosive it was but we’re hoping like hell that Ed was injured by the blast too. That would be the surest bet to catch the bastard. We’ve got eyes at the hospitals, medical centres, veterinary clinics, anywhere he might go to get fixed up. We don’t know how he slipped from Lewis’s grip.’

  Andy drank up the information, but Kelley had left out one big piece of it.

  ‘How about Jimmy?’

  ‘It’s not good, Andy,’ Kelley said. Andy waited, but that was it.

  ‘Was he right in the blast? Was it shrapnel?’

  ‘No.’

  Clearly Kelley didn’t want to say anything more. That was a very bad sign.

  ‘You don’t think he’s going to make it,’ Andy said flatly.

  Kelley looked him
in the eye, silent. There was a controlled rage in there, and emotion too. Kelley’s men had been seriously hurt. In some ways they were like children to him. He would want someone to pay.

  ‘Jimmy is in bad shape. Apparently he was unconscious at the scene. The doctors can’t say if or how he will pull through, something to do with his heart,’ Kelley said.

  Andy stared wide-eyed, disbelieving.

  ‘Let’s sit down, Andy.’

  ‘No,’ he said. He didn’t want to sit. He didn’t want to relax. He didn’t want to calm down. ‘No, no…’

  ‘Andy…’

  Andy noticed Carol behind him. He turned and she took him into the hall while Kelley returned to his men.

  ‘It’s terrible. I’m so sorry,’ she said, her eyes large with sympathy.

  ‘Tell me. Tell me the truth. What’s happened to Jimmy? What are his chances?’

  ‘They don’t know, Andy,’ she admitted. ‘I wish I could give you an answer but I can’t. He has AF. He’s been on Warfarin.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘AF, atrial fibrillation. The atria in his heart don’t pump the blood effectively. Your partner has been a stroke waiting to happen, Andy. He’s been on blood-thinning medication to avoid blood clots. Unfortunately, that means his internal bleeding was excessive…’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He was struck on the head with a shovel, probably in some kind of struggle.’

  Ed. He was trying to stop Ed.

  ‘He was unconscious when he was brought in. To staunch the bleeding they had to give him something to reverse the medication. In his case there was a risk of a clot. I’m afraid he suffered a stroke on the operating table. I’m sorry, Andy.’ She touched his arm reassuringly. ‘He has stabilised a little. There is a good chance he’ll pull through.’

  Andy felt numb. He took a few moments to respond. ‘Is that all you can tell me?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Thanks, Carol. I’m sorry if I’ve been…’

  ‘I understand,’ she said, squeezing his hand. ‘If I can do anything, let me know.’

  She left him, and Andy moved back into the ward to speak to Kelley.

  ‘Has anyone told Angie?’

  ‘We’re sending a couple of constables around to inform her. She knows Hunt. He’ll be there to let her down.’

  Three kids. Why did Jimmy have to have a wife and three kids to leave behind? He can’t die. He just can’t.

  ‘There was no sign of Ed Brown when they got there? Nothing?’ Andy pressed.

  ‘His handcuffs were on the ground. He’d already vanished.’

  ‘No one can vanish. Have we checked the boats along the coastline? The bushland? The freight port? Someone must have seen something for Christ’s sake!’ Andy made fists at his sides. ‘Has anyone told Makedde that Ed is out?’

  ‘We’re sending someone over now.’

  ‘I’ve got to speak to her first. Give me ten minutes.’

  ‘Flynn…’

  ‘Just give me this, sir. Please.’

  ‘Makedde…’

  ‘Speaking.’ Makedde’s voice was dull and noncommittal.

  ‘I need to talk to you right now.’

  ‘Well, hello to you too,’ she said, recognising his voice.

  Andy was so utterly relieved that she sounded okay, he barely registered her coolness.

  Kelley had said her phone had been ringing out, but now she was safely inside her hotel room. Safe. Thank God. The dread in his heart eased just a fraction. The hotel was the best place for her to be at the moment. It was unlikely that Ed Brown would make a beeline for her there so soon. He would be too busy covering his own arse, wouldn’t he? Andy had to keep her inside that room until he explained the situation himself, and it wouldn’t take him long to get there. He knew that what he had to tell her would be the worst possible news anyone could give her, and it was only right that she heard it from him directly. Andy couldn’t bear the thought of her finding out from some door-knocking flatfoot constable she had never met, or from the officers who were on their way to the hotel now to protect her.

  ‘There’s something very important I need to discuss with you,’ he urged with as much calm as he could muster. He sprinted across the hospital parking lot with his phone at his ear.

  ‘Are you running?’ she asked.

  ‘Um, yeah.’

  ‘I was going to ring you later,’ Mak said.

  Andy finally reached his car in the hospital parking lot and threw the door open. He slid into the driver’s seat and shoved the key in the ignition.

  ‘I can’t explain it over the phone,’ he managed, now slightly out of breath. ‘I need to speak to you in person. I’m on my way.’

  ‘Oh, Andy, I’m meeting up with Loulou in fifteen minutes. I’m just about to leave.’

  ‘Don’t go out. Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming right over. Just promise me you’ll stay put.’ His knew his words sounded peremptory, probably even rude. He would have to apologise later. And to Carol too. She had turned out to be a great help at the hospital.

  ‘But…’

  Andy pinched the phone between his shoulder and his ear, and started his car. It revved up reliably and he was about to step on the gas when he looked up and noticed an old man backing a station wagon out in front of him…slowly…slowly…so goddamn slowly. He pressed the horn in a fit of frustration, knowing full well that it wouldn’t encourage the man’s driving skills in the least.

  ‘Fuck…’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Mak was still on the line.

  ‘Sorry. That wasn’t for you,’ he said. Hurry up, old man! Hurry up! ‘Stay in your hotel room,’ he ordered bluntly, his patience waning. ‘I’ll be there in a few minutes, ten at the most—’

  ‘But…’

  Finally the station wagon was out of the way. Andy laid the pedal down and burned rubber out of the parking lot. The phone was hot against his ear lobe.

  ‘Andy, are you there?’

  ‘Mak,’ he shouted. ‘I need you to stay right there. Just promise me you’ll stay put until I get there.’

  ‘Um, okay.’

  ‘Don’t let anyone in the room. I don’t care who they say they are. Bolt the door. Use the chain. I’ll be ten minutes at the most. Do not open your door to anyone else, you hear me? If you know anything about me, you’ll know I’m not fucking around. I’ll see you in under ten.’

  He hung up.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ed Brown was apprehensive as he approached the house.

  For almost five minutes, he sat in the Prison Lady’s car at the end of the street, engine off, still wearing the golfing gear with the cap pulled low over his forehead. He crossed his arms and observed quietly. There was no movement on the street or at the house. To be sure he had the right place, he checked the address on the Prison Lady’s note several times.

  It wasn’t what he had expected.

  The Prison Lady had directed him to a large modern-looking family house, two levels, in a quiet suburban neighbourhood. It seemed an unusual home for a single woman. She must be a widow, he thought. She hadn’t said anything about that. He hoped she didn’t have an ex-husband she hadn’t told him about who might be lurking somewhere and could cause problems. Perhaps her place was a semi, or she shared it with someone. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be able to stick around even long enough to shower and change into some new clothes. He’d have to grab what he could and go.

  The lawns on the nature strip were well kept. He saw a tricycle next to one of the driveways. Ed pictured smiling Brady Bunch families, Tupperware parties and golden-haired children playing under sprinklers in the summertime. It looked like the Australia of 1950s’ detergent ads, but it was nothing like the neighbourhood he had grown up in. He had no memories of green lawns and tricycles. He was more familiar with being locked in his room, learning lessons that came by way of a hot iron and a length of rope, and children who liked to break his nose after school and make fun of the
way he talked. That was the Australia he knew.

  Ed reminded himself that it was Saturday, around midday, so there was an increased chance that some of the families on the street would be at home. Someone might notice him in the Prison Lady’s car if he loitered around too much. He needed to make a decision. Should he go in? Ed started the car and drove past the house for another look. He didn’t spot any movement there. The curtains were drawn and they didn’t twitch as he passed. He circled the block and waited. No one seemed to have followed him from Botany Bay. There wasn’t anyone on the street that he could see. It was time to do it, if ever he was going to.

  Tense and alert for every movement, Ed parked in the Prison Lady’s driveway. He was protected from view by a row of tall shrubs. He turned the engine off, left the driver’s door open and the key in the ignition, and stepped out. He hurried to the back door, nervously scanning left and right, still wary of waiting police. Nothing looked suspicious so far. I will go in, he decided. He needed somewhere to shower and change. He needed something to eat. He needed cash, or something he could pawn for fast money. Unlike the ex-cons on TV, Ed had not stashed money away in case he ever needed to flee justice. He’d never considered that his freedom might be taken away. He had no fancy contacts to help him with fake passports or illegal guns. He was starting with nothing. He hoped to find everything he needed to begin his new life waiting for him inside this suburban house. Then he could concentrate on his plans.

  Ed found the key to the back door under a straw mat, just as the Prison Lady had promised. WELCOME HOME, the mat said.

  Ed picked up the key and slid it into the keyhole. It fitted. He turned it and the door unlocked. No alarms. He stepped inside. The Prison Lady had assured him that no one would be around, and so far she seemed to be telling the truth. He closed the door behind him and listened. Nothing. The lights were off. No moving shadows or reflections. He could hardly believe his luck. Could he actually be in the clear?