I grabbed my handbag and her remote, and the door key she’d dropped in a bowl by the door. I went to let myself out, then turned back and grabbed the memory stick. Once I’d tucked it in my jeans pocket, I headed to the lift.
Outside was quiet. Only a few cars parked on the street; most people hunkered down in front of their screens for the night. I jogged down a block to the deli and bought the last burner phone he had in stock.
He slid it across the counter and I tore the packing open then and there.
‘Everything alright, Miss,’ he asked politely.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Dropped my phone in the bath. Need to cancel a dinner date.’
‘Aaaah,’ he smiled. ‘Another broken heart.’
‘Something like that,’ I said forcing a grin.
A customer came in looking for cigarettes and I took the opportunity to step out.
I stopped at the nearest stormwater grate I could find and rang the cops while I knelt down and cleared debris from the grill.
‘There something strange going on in a warehouse halfway down Stubbs Terrace, Shenton Park. I think it might be a something to do with drugs. But it’s happening right now. You should send someone right away,’ I said in a fake voice.
I hung up before they could ask me any questions, ripped the sim card out, and dropped it in the drain. Then I wiped the phone with my shirt sleeve and went in search of a rubbish bin to toss it into.
I spotted a solo bin on the verge of the house about halfway back to Phoebe’s, but across the road. If I remembered correctly from when Granna was here, rubbish would be collected tomorrow, and the phone would be buried in refuse at the tip.
I crossed the street towards it, wondering about some of the decisions I’d made lately. As I did, a car pulled away from the kerb without its lights on and drove straight at me.
I barely had time to pitch myself sideways, and it caught me on the hip, sending me sprawling onto the bitumen. While I rolled in agony, the car pulled into a driveway and reversed out. I grabbed my handbag, and rolled towards the kerb.
The whole thing had occurred almost silently. Maybe I’d shouted in pain. I didn’t know. No one came out to see what had happened.
And now the driver was coming back for a second pass. I scrambled to my feet. My hip hurt so badly I felt faint, but forced myself to stay conscious and keep moving, hustling along the sidewalk.
But the car wasn’t giving up so easily and it mounted.
I saw it coming and jumped over a low brick fence into someone’s yard where one leg folded beneath me. The car braked short of the obstacle and waited there to see my next move.
‘Can you walk?’ said a voice in my ear.
My racing heart almost exploded and I instinctively lashed out. But a hand caught mine, and held it fast in a way that was familiar.
‘Wal?’ I breathed.
‘It’s me.’
‘You could have led with that,’ I said. ‘Yes, I can walk, but not sure how far.’
‘Run?’
‘A little. Maybe. Depends. Who’s in the car?’
‘Viaspa, or one of his,’ said Wal.
‘Can’t we just go and knock on someone’s door for help.’
‘Not unless you want them shot.’
‘That’s ridiculous. They’re not going to shoot a member of the public.’
‘Take a look at the roof of the car.’
I peered at the dark outline of the car and saw nothing. ‘Where?’
‘Look at the bonnet.’
I squinted more and saw a figure hunched forward over the hood. ‘What’s he doing?’
‘Move!’ said Wal and rolled me right into a garden bed of weeds just as I heard a short, sharp whoosh.
‘What was that? I whispered.
‘Silencer.’
‘He just shot at me?’
‘Come on!’
Wal was crawling backward alongside the porch, heading for the side of the house. I followed him as quickly as my hip would allow and encountered a narrow side corridor of the garden filled with pot plants and bordered by a tall colorbond fence.
When we were out of sight of the car, he gestured upward. ‘Get over the fence and back to Phoebe.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Call the cops and try and keep the shooter away.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Trust me, it’s about to get a lot worse.’
‘Wal?’
‘Whatever they want, it’s important. The Cheaters have been trailing you. They’re here as well.’
‘The Cheaters will protect us.’
‘In theory, maybe,’ he said. ‘But it’s dark, and shit happens.’
My adrenalin levels spiked again. ‘Shit,’ I said. ‘I have what they want. It’s a list of names.’
‘What names?’
‘I only recognised one of them, Jeff Tyler.’
‘Tylenol?’
‘You know him too.’
‘He’s a dealer. Steroids. Where’s this list?’
‘In my back pocket.’
‘Give it to me. Quick.’
‘I don’t know that’s such a good—’
‘They catch you with it, they’ll cut out your tongue for it. If you’re lucky.’
I fished it out of my pocket and handed it over. Wal lifted the base of the heavy pot we were squatting next to.
‘You’ll crush it.’
‘Hopefully,’ he said. ‘Now go.’
He interlaced his fingers as a sling, and I put my foot in them. But his boost got me up top of the fence just as the front porch light came on, silhouetting me against the night.
I immediately dived down the other side, hearing the same soft thunk, whizzing past me. Levering onto my knees, I realised that I’d fallen onto a grassy easement between neighbour’s fences. Then the car engine started up and headlights blinded me.
‘Wait!’ I said holding up my hands. ‘I’ve got what you want.’
Nothing happened, but I was still alive, so I began to walk towards the car.
‘Everything alright out there?’ called a querulous older woman’s voice from the porch.
I didn’t dare answer in case he pulled the trigger on me.
‘Fine. Just a lover’s quarrel,’ said the voice from behind the car’s headlights.
‘Can you please turn those lamps off, young man? You’re waking the street.’
I stepped closer, still unable to see my pursuer.
‘Sure thing, ma’am,’ said the guy.
The porch light dimmed and I took another step. I was almost at the bonnet of the car, when a bunch of things happened: Wal appeared from the side and tackled the shooter who was focussed on me; two motorbikes turned the corner near the deli and accelerated towards us; and another car roared down the street from the north.
‘Run!’ bellowed Wal. He had the shooter guy on his back, hands around his neck. I stood, indecisive for a moment, then common sense kicked in. Wal could take care of himself, but not if he had me to worry about as well.
My hip throbbed with pain as I hurtled towards Phoebe’s. But I saw another car in her driveway, lights on, idling, so I veered off at the last second down towards the ‘big’ house.
Once through the gap in the fence, I crashed through the undergrowth trying to get my bearings.
Car doors slammed shut close by.
Loud gunshots rang out.
I navigated the pitch-black yard towards the water tank on memory, feeling thankful I knew about it. When my fingers touched its cool iron, I followed its contour until they caught the jagged edge of a rusted-out hole. I pulled hard, and broke a large section of the corrugation away. It left enough of a hole for me and I climbed in, praying that I didn’t disturb a nest of brown snakes.
The tank was deep with wet leaves, and I squatted in them catching my breath.
Then I called Phoebe.
She answered after two rings.
‘It’s Tara,’ I whispered. �
��Don’t answer the door to anyone, and don’t come outside.’
‘What’s happening? Where are you? I heard shots.’
‘I’m OK. Wal’s called the police. Sit tight.’
‘Tara—’
As I hung up, the leg holding up my sore hip cramped and gave way beneath me again. Only the sound of more gunshots stopped me from crying out.
Was it the Cheaters shooting? Or Viaspa? Or Wal? Or were they shooting at each other? What the hell was going on? This was the suburbs. They couldn’t just have a gunfight.
They couldn’t ju—
‘Saw you come in here, bitch. Hand over the list.’ Viaspa’s distinctive voice came from somewhere in the yard. He must have been in the second car.
I held my breath. Maybe hiding in the tank wasn’t such a good idea. If he looked in here … it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel.
Then I remembered Wal’s knife and felt for it in my bag.
Could I really stab someone?
Another deep breath. If it was Viaspa, yes. I could.
I pressed against the tank wall and edged a bit closer to the opening.
The light from his mobile phone bounced around as he searched for me.
‘I’m close, Tara,’ he carolled.
Where were the police? Wal? Sweat ran in rivulets down the back of my legs. If it was true that you could smell fear then I knew I was stinking up the place.
Then light found the tank and Viaspa knocked on the outside of it right where I was crouched. ‘You in the tank, Sharp?’
I gripped the knife tighter truly in danger of fainting now. Maybe if I burrowed down he wouldn’t see me. But being this close, he’d hear, I argued with myself.
He knocked on the tank every few seconds, as if he was testing for holes. A few more steps and he’d find the one that I’d widened. A few more seconds and I’d have to plunge this knife into his flesh.
I raised it ready to strike, two shaking hands holding the hilt.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuck.
‘Boss,’ another voice called. ‘The cops have turned onto Eric Street. Let’s go.’
‘She’s here. I know she is.’
‘Boss! We’ve got word. We need to go now.’
Viaspa swore. Then the torch light changed direction.
A few seconds later, car doors slammed shut, and they drove off.
I collapsed back into the leaves and lay there trembling. When I recovered enough to feel my feet and hands again, I tried texting Wal. But he didn’t reply.
I couldn’t deal with what that might mean so I stayed where I was, not daring to risk going back to Phoebe’s while the police cordoned off the street and knocked on doors.
I sent her a text instead.
I’m OK. Stay inside. Keep everything locked. Will call you tomorrow.
* * *
Around daybreak, everything had gone quiet except for the sound of the council rubbish truck working its way up and down the streets. I emerged from the tank, plastered in leaves, and hobbled up the hill. Bright yellow police tapes were up in the easement near where I’d crouched and there were chalk marks on the bitumen.
No one was around, so I hobbled slowly down Phoebe’s driveway. I was just about to use the remote to open the screen when a figure detached itself from behind the brick letterbox on the verge.
‘Tara?’ said Detective Fiona Bligh.
She startled me so badly that I stumbled and fell backwards. Next thing I knew, she was leaning over me, lightly slapping my cheek.
‘What on earth’s wrong with you, Sharp?’
I sat up and burst into tears.
Bligh was in jeans and a t-shirt. She produced a Kleenex from her pocket.
‘What are y-you still doing h-here?’ I gulped into the tissue.
‘I’m the one asking the questions. There’s been a shootout overnight in South Cottesloe. Why am I not surprised to see you? And why do you look like you’ve done ten rounds with a whipper snipper?’
I gulped a few more times until the storm of emotion began to settle. The rubbish truck roared up from the beach side and then braked to collect the bins that had been left out. I watched it thoughtfully.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ I asked.
‘Step into my office.’ She offered me a hand and pulled me up. Then with an altogether way too firm grip on my arm, she shepherded me behind the rubbish truck and over to an unassuming sedan in one of the cross streets.
‘Shake off some of those leaves,’ she said and stood watching me do it.
I dusted myself off as well as I could and then she popped the locks. It took a moment to manoeuvre myself into the passenger seat. My hip was now stiff as well as painful. She got into the driver’s seat and twisted sideways to look me over.
‘So, you’re a detective now? Or just off duty?’ I asked.
‘Both. I attended the trouble last night and offered to stick around until the day shift came on.’
‘Why’d you do that?’
She arched her eyebrows. ‘I looked through the list of tenants in the street. Phoebe Kenilworth lives in one of those apartments.’
‘So?’ I said.
‘She’s connected with the floater you’re acquainted with. But you already know that, don’t you?’
‘Can you read minds?’ I asked faintly.
She smiled—just a little bit. Her aura was normally streaked with grey, but this morning the streaks looked more like puffs of grey clouds. Like me, she was tired. ‘To a degree. And now you’re going to tell me what I don’t know.’
I’d been dreading this situation since the moment Garth rang me. A face to face with the police. Yet if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it was Bligh. And I intended to keep it that way.
‘I’m only talking to you,’ I said. ‘No negotiation.’
She nodded. ‘I’m touched.’ A hint of sarcasm too. ‘Now tell me.’
‘Phoebe Kenilworth hired me to investigate some guy who was harassing her. He seemed to think she had something of Bernard Romeo’s that was valuable.’
‘What thing?’
‘Information on a USB drive.’
‘What kind of information?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘So this … dust-up last night … the parties involved were hoping to secure this USB?’
‘I imagine so.’
‘We spoke to Phoebe Kenilworth. She didn’t mention any of this. No one had been near her door. No one attempted to break in. How did you come to be out on her street?’
‘I dropped her home from an opening. She let me park underneath. Then I went out to the deli on the corner to buy a cheap phone because I needed to make a call and my phone had gone dead.’
‘Why didn’t you use Phoebe’s?’
‘I don’t make a habit of using my client’s phones. It’s unprofessional.’
‘Where’s the phone now?’
I watched the rubbish truck turn the corner and disappear from view.
‘Same place as the thumb drive I guess.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I had the thumb drive on me when I went to the shop. Safe keeping. Phoebe wouldn’t have mentioned it because she didn’t want her association with Romeo to be public knowledge. Everyone knows that the police can’t keep a secret.’
‘I’ll ignore that. Why were you driving Phoebe anywhere?’
‘Her car met with an accident.’
Bligh’s eyebrows lifted, and a gleam of comprehension lit her eyes.
‘Armanno Romeo attacked it?’
‘How do you know that?’
‘The caretaker for the offices next door saw it all. He called it in. We ran the plates on the cars involved.’
‘Jeez.’
‘Back to this information, Sharp. Where is it?’
‘I don’t know. I had it in my pocket with my disposable phone. They must have fallen out when I hid in the rainwater tank. Can’t find it now.’
‘You lost the disposable phone and the thumb
drive, but managed to somehow keep hold of your own phone? How fortunate.’
‘I was in a bit of a state, you know.’
‘Sharp?’ she said fixing me with a quizzical stare. ‘Is that the truth?’
‘I’ve spent all night in a tank filled with muck and leaves after being shot at by persons unknown. Of course, it is.’ I sold the lie with a slightly frustrated shake of my head.
‘So, we should be thanking you for keeping the Premier’s daughter safe?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t need thanking. I need a shower.’
‘And you have no idea what was on the thumb drive?’
‘No.’
‘Phoebe hadn’t looked at it?’
‘Not as far as I know.’ I figured that would stack up if they questioned Phoebe further. She’d been asleep when I’d scanned the list. She couldn’t rightfully say I’d seen it. And I don’t think she had.
‘Yet another convenience’ she said.
‘I’m itchy. Can I go home please?’
‘I’ll need a statement first.’
I sighed. Didn’t she always?
21
Wal was waiting for me in the kitchen at home when I got back from the cop shop around 7am. His grey aura was fuzzy with fatigue. Cass, thankfully, was still asleep upstairs.
I wasn’t sure who was more relieved to see the other. We huddled in the kitchen over the kettle and watched it boil while I told him my version first.
‘Way to handle it, boss,’ he said when I was done. ‘Enough of the truth but not too much.’
‘But now I have to go back and get the thumb drive before the police start searching for it.
He pulled his cigarette packet out of his pocket, turned it on its side and gave it a tap. A black USB slid out.
I stared, open mouthed. Then I gave him a relieved smile. ‘Now tell me what happened to you.’
‘I went at it with the shooter for a bit, ’til I knew you’d gone and the Cheaters turned up. Figured it was time to keep a low profile then. Hid in an empty dog kennel until about 4am. Got the USB back and climbed through back yards and over fences all the way back to the beach. Walked up to Swanbourne end then home.’
‘That must’ve taken hours.’
‘A while,’ he allowed.
Sharp Edge Page 18