by Peter Klein
I took another sip of wine. Went down a treat after a long day at the track. Bloody Sandown, hot as a sauna in the summer. Didn’t help that I’d done my arse on an afternoon when I probably should have gone surfing instead. But in Maxine’s lounge room it was lovely and cool. The evening sea breeze was just starting to blow in through the flyscreen door, which led onto the deck out the back. I got up and unsnipped the lock, slid open the door and took in the view of the city skyline.
‘Hi sweetie. I’ll join you there. Just get myself a drink.’
I hadn’t heard Maxine let herself in, but as I turned around to greet her, I could hear her sounding off enthusiastically about my seafood package in the fridge.
‘Yum, what a great idea! Let’s eat out on the deck.’
I walked back into the kitchen to give her a hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she loaded herself up with the wine and seafood.
‘Can you grab a couple of plates and large bowl for the shells?’
‘I got it,’ I said.
Within minutes we’d put away the oysters. A dozen each don’t go far, especially when you’re as hungry as we both were. Then we started on the crayfish. I cracked the shell open on top of the spread of newspapers they’d been wrapped in. It’s the easiest way to get to the white, succulent flesh and you can make as much mess as you like without having to worry about the juices squirting all over you.
‘Mmm,’ said Maxine.
I licked my lips. ‘Should have bought two, the way we’re getting through this.’
‘I can make you dessert, if you like. Crepes?’
I must have looked doubtful.
‘What? I can make dessert. I can cook; I can.’
‘I’m not saying you can’t. It’s just that I’ve never seen you cook anything.’
‘I did you poached eggs last week.’
‘As I recall, you walked down to the bakery for a loaf of bread and I ended up making the eggs.’
She winked at me. ‘A mere technicality. The intention was there.’
‘Anyway, I’ll have to pass on the dessert. It’s Tuesday night, snooker with the guys at the Triangle.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘You want to come?’
‘Nah, it’s a guy thing. I’ll soak myself in a hot bath and put on lotions and potions and make myself beautiful for you on your return. You are coming back tonight, aren’t you?’
‘Three hours, tops. By then, I’ll have had enough of Tiny’s cracks about that photo of you and me last Saturday.’
She made a face at me. ‘I bet Tiny’s just jealous.’
Tiny wasn’t jealous, but he was in one of his stirring moods.
‘Mate,’ he said, lining up the blue ball, ‘we didn’t figure you’d be playin’ tonight. Did we fellas?’ he said to the others. David and Myles grinned knowingly.
‘And why wouldn’t I make it along tonight?’ I asked.
Tiny hit the cue ball low. Lots of bottom spin; it potted the blue ball in the bottom left pocket and rolled back obediently for another shot at the cluster of reds.
‘We thought you’d still be at the optometrist.’
Could see where he was going with this, played along anyway. ‘The optometrist?’
‘Yeah. We figured he’d still be tryin’ to pull that feather out of your eye.’
The photo. Maxine sitting on my lap at the restaurant with the damn hat feather nearly spearing my pupil. ‘Ha, ha. That’s very funny.’
They thought it was a hoot. Broke out into loud guffaws all around.
‘Hey, it won her the strapper’s prize, that hat,’ said David. ‘Don’t knock it.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a good sort getting photographed sittin’ on my lap,’ said Myles.
‘Yeah, well, Maxine’s spoken for,’ I said.
‘Hey, speakin’ of Maxine, she did all the PR work for that Kagan Hall guy, didn’t she?’ said Myles.
I nodded. ‘Yep. Least she did up until last week when he took the big drop.’
Tiny stopped sizing up his cue for a moment and stood upright. ‘It didn’t surprise me, him being the strapper killer. Especially when they found that girl in the UK he’d killed.’
‘Supposedly killed.’
‘Ah, don’t talk like a fuckin’ lawyer, Punter. He raped her and killed her, just like he did all these poor girls over here.’
David joined in. ‘You gotta admit, all that stuff they found when they searched his place – newspaper clippings of all the strappers killed, the porn on his computer. Scotland Yard wouldn’t send a man all the way over here unless they were sure. I bet Maxine must have been pretty shocked to find out her client was a killer?’
‘Well, she wasn’t exactly impressed,’ I said. ‘But she reckoned she never felt uncomfortable around him. Maybe because he was her client he kept his distance. It’s pretty chilling though, to think what he’d been getting up to.’
‘Bet the racing clubs are glad it’s all over,’ said David. ‘The security guards must have cost a packet.’
‘And the cops, too. They must be relieved,’ said Myles.
‘Not half as relieved as the strappers,’ said Tiny. ‘They’ll sleep easier at night from now on.’
After a few games of doubles, we called it quits about eleven and trooped down the wooden stairs. Tiny suggested a coffee in Brunswick Street, like we usually did.
‘What about you, Punter, or you wanna get home?’
‘No, I’m not in any hurry. I could go a coffee and something to eat.’
We found a little café about a block’s walk from the Triangle. I had a short black and got suckered into a Danish pastry. They have all these cakes sitting in those rotating glass displays; too much of a temptation for me. We ended up staying another forty minutes or so talking and eating and sipping our coffees before finally calling it a night.
Half an hour later, I drove back and parked my van outside Maxine’s apartment. The block’s got an over-the-top security system if you ask me. Anything more than one lock and you’ve lost me; this place had three. You needed to get through an outside gate, then the foyer door, before finally having to unlock the apartment door. Thankfully they’d made the one key fit all entrances. I let myself in and walked up the stairwell to Maxine’s apartment on the second level. When I got to her door, I opened it and then shut it softly, not wanting to wake her. She’d left a light on and the flyscreen door was slightly ajar. Her backpack was on the floor next to the door; must have left it there when she came home. I poured myself a glass of water from the kitchen tap and stood for a moment sipping it next to the sink. I felt a bit sweaty after playing snooker and tossed up whether or not to take a shower. Maxine had an ensuite in her bedroom, but there was also a separate shower and bathroom in the guest room at the end of the hallway. I decided I’d use that so as not to disturb her. Her strapper’s trophy was still on the table, but minus the hat, which was no longer hanging off it. As I walked past the table I saw a soft light on in her room. The door was open so I called out gently to her.
‘Maxine, are you awake?’
No answer. Must have fallen asleep reading one of her trashy fashion magazines, like I’d seen her do before.
I called out again. ‘Maxine? It’s me. Just going to take a quick shower.’
Still no answer. I smiled to myself, imagining how I’d find her, flat on her back, sound asleep, with her magazine fallen by her side. I was about to take a quick peek in her room on the way to the guest shower when her bedside light suddenly switched off.
‘Maxine?’
I stood still, halfway between her room and the dining-room table. Called her name once more, a bit louder this time. Nothing. I glanced back to the open flyscreen door and to her backpack by the door. I’d never seen her with a backpack before.
I trust my antenna; never known it to be wrong yet. And it was sending me signals, like Something’s wrong here; get out now. I grabbed the strapper’s trophy off the table. Then I walked slowly back do
wn the hallway, clutching the thing like a club. I paused just outside Maxine’s bedroom and stood silent, listening very hard.
Nothing.
Not a breath, not a snore. Unnaturally quiet.
I stood absolutely still. Strained my ears for the slightest noise for what seemed a few minutes at least. Then she screamed.
I burst into her room as the door rammed into my face. It copped me right on the side of the jaw and I dropped to the ground like I’d been king-hit. Maxine screamed again and I caught sight of hands slashing wildly down at me. The assailant had a knife and all I had was a damn trophy which I held out desperately in front of me for some protection. Then he hurtled over me and raced up the hallway. I caught a glimpse of the back of him as he leapt out the door onto the patio and made his escape down the outside stairs. I picked myself up, still holding the trophy tightly in my hand, and gave chase. When I got to the door, I saw a shape racing across the backyard. Then came the sound of fleeing footsteps as he clambered over the neighbouring back fence and disappeared.
Maxine yelled out. ‘Punter!’
I ran back to her room and scrambled for the light switch, my fingernails madly scratching the wall until I located it and flicked it on. Maxine was cowering in the corner of the room on the floor, her hands tied in front of her. She had some duct tape wrapped around her mouth, which she’d somehow managed to pull down. Thank god she had or we’d both be dead. All she was wearing was her birthday suit and that stupid hat.
‘Are you hurt, are you all right?’ I squeezed my hands around her arms, not knowing what the crazy bastard had done to her. She shook her head in a trembling reply and I helped her up.
‘If you hadn’t come back when you did,’ she said, ‘he would have . . . he was about to . . .’ She burst into tears and I held her to me. ‘I was sure I was going to be raped and killed, just like the others. Are you sure he’s gone?’
‘Don’t worry, he’s pissed off, the gutless bastard. Let me get your hands untied.’ Much as I tried, I couldn’t free her. It felt like he’d bound her with some sort of heavy cord.
‘Come into the kitchen and I’ll cut through this with a knife. Here, put this on.’ I slipped a robe around her shoulders, put an arm around her and walked her into the kitchen. I found a bread knife and sawed through the cord. When her hands were free, she buried her head against my chest and hugged me tightly, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably.
‘You’ve hurt yourself,’ she said, disengaging from me.
‘Don’t worry about me. I’m okay, it’s you we’ve got to worry about.’
‘No, look,’ she said, holding up my right hand, which had some puncture marks in it. Blood was seeping down through my fingers.
‘And your shoulder, you’re cut. He’s stabbed you.’
I could see the cut marks now that the shock was wearing off. Could feel it too. His knife must have cut my hand as I’d tried to defend myself with the trophy and he’d ripped into the flesh of my shoulder as well.
‘It’s not serious,’ I said.
‘I’m going to call triple 0; you grab a towel from the linen press in the hall to stop the bleeding.’
I found a couple of snow-white face washers in the cupboard. Seemed a shame to stain them with my blood, but I wrapped one around my right hand and held one under my shirt against my shoulder. I walked back along the hallway and paused outside Maxine’s bedroom. I was vaguely aware that I shouldn’t touch anything, that the police would probably treat it as a crime scene. The door was open, so I stood just outside and looked in. There weren’t a lot of signs of a scuffle that were obvious. My guess was the guy had let himself in the back door, crept into her bedroom and pulled a knife on her as she slept. There was absolutely nothing she could have done to try to defend herself. It was just a fluke I’d come back when I had. Five minutes later and I may have been too late. Come home to her bloodied and naked corpse. I shuddered thinking about it and looked up at something that caught my eye; a flame-red message scribbled all over her mirror. It was written in a lipstick which was lying on the dresser underneath the mirror. The writing said: I’m a filthy silk chaser. That’s why I died.
The police arrived within minutes, an ambulance close behind. When the police got the story from Maxine and me about what had happened and who the likely intruder was, they notified the Homicide team who’d been working on the strapper killer cases. Meanwhile the paramedics examined Maxine and me and told me I was a stitch job, that I needed to get to a hospital and be attended to. I didn’t want to leave Maxine alone, but the police told me she’d be looked after by them and that her father had been notified and was on his way over. They also wanted to get her description of her attacker’s face while it was fresh in her mind.
Later, at the hospital, a young nurse and an even younger-looking medic put the finishing touches to some sutures in my shoulder.
‘You were extremely lucky,’ the doctor said, not for the first time. ‘No deep penetration wounds. Usually the defending hands take the brunt of it in knife attacks.’
‘I had a sort of shield to fend him off with,’ I said.
‘Your shoulder, too, escaped largely unscathed. A minor flesh cut that could easily have found an artery. But you’ll still need to take things easy and give it time to heal properly. In other words, no physical activity for at least a week.’
‘No surfing?’
‘Absolutely not.’
Two guys walked in as the doctor and nurse were finishing up.
‘You should listen to your doctor, Punter,’ said Beering. ‘If he says no surfin’ then that’s what he means.’ He jerked his head towards the other guy and introduced him. ‘Detective Senior Sergeant Gordon Wells.’
Wells, like Beering, was wearing a suit. Except his was a dark grey. Didn’t matter what time of day or night, plain-clothes cops always wore suits. I instinctively put my hand out, winced and immediately regretted it. Nodded at him instead.
‘Stuck you with his knife, eh?’ said Wells.
‘The doctor says it’s nothing serious,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to be treated for something that was.’
The doctor smiled at me as he and the nurse excused themselves from the room. ‘Don’t keep him up too long, he’ll probably fall asleep on you anyway with the sedatives he’s been given.’
When they’d gone, Wells grabbed one of the visitor chairs and pulled it closer to my bed. He sat down and looked me over professionally. He’d probably seen a few stabbing victims in his time.
‘Should I start by telling you how lucky you and your girlfriend are to be alive?’
I nodded. ‘Seems to be the word everyone’s using tonight. It was him, wasn’t it; the strapper killer? When everyone thought it must have been Hall.’
Beering sucked in a deep breath and let it out. ‘Yeah, unfortunately that seems to be the case. I think everyone assumed that Hall would be the peg that fitted the hole. Now, after Hall’s death and this new attack, we think different.’
‘In fact,’ said Wells, taking up where Beering had left off, ‘Forensics hasn’t found a trace of Hall’s DNA on any of the victims so far. They’ve still got some testing to complete, but I can tell you there’s not so much as a hair of Hall’s anywhere near those girls. We’ve been barking up the wrong tree.’
‘What about the girl they found in the UK, did he kill her?’
Wells sat with his arms crossed, leaning against one armrest. He gave a shrug. ‘Probably. We may never know for sure. His suicide implies that he thought the game was up when they found her body. So now we’re back to square one. Well, not quite. You and Maxine are the only ones who have had an encounter with the strapper killer and lived. It’s the first breakthrough we’ve had. I know you’re probably feeling a bit groggy, but we thought we’d get your version of what happened as soon as possible.’
I readjusted myself on the pillow and rubbed my eyes. The sedatives were starting to kick in, but sleep would have to wait.
‘Anything to h
elp catch him. What do you want to know?’
‘Take us through the whole thing,’ said Wells. ‘I understand you walked in on him?’
‘That’s right. I’d had dinner with Maxine earlier in the night, and then went out for my regular Tuesday night snooker game with some pals. I got back a little after midnight and walked in to find him there.’
‘You saw him as soon as you walked in?’
‘No. I opened the door and there was a light on in the kitchen. I thought Maxine had gone to bed. The place was quiet; I didn’t hear anything at first. I noticed the flyscreen door was ajar, but I just thought that Maxine must have forgotten to close it. There was a backpack lying on the floor by the door. I thought it was hers at first, until I realised I’d never seen her with one.’
Wells glanced sharply at Beering, then back at me. ‘We didn’t note any backpack in there. Must have been his little bag of goodies that he grabbed when he took off. What happened then?’
‘I went to take a shower and could see from the hallway that Maxine had the bedside light on. I assumed she’d fallen asleep reading. I called out to her a couple of times. Just softly, you know, so as not to wake her if she was asleep. Then her light clicked off.’
‘She didn’t answer you?’
‘No. No answer, no sound. I just stood there in the hallway and I sort of got a feeling that something wasn’t right. I walked back to the lounge room and grabbed her trophy off the table; only thing I could think of as a weapon.’