Directive RIP

by Stuart Parker

  28

  Breeze was sitting up. A hospital gown didn’t look good on anyone but this was a man who wore suede and cashmere. He was pale and his eye were drawn back in their sockets – too much time staring back at the gravity. At least, the machine he was plugged into seemed content in their work. For cops the alarm of impending death was the rush of adrenaline, in hospitals it was the slow sands of an egg-timer. Breeze was gazing out the window at the blue sky, daydreaming about that last helicopter rise with Soila Waneta; cruising over the city on whatever false presence he had conjured at the time. It was amazing how recently it actually was. Everything preceding those bullets in the back had immediately been diluted into distant memory.

  Furn stepped into the room, his hand trailing behind in a knock. He was startled by the array of colours that greeted him; roses, gerberas, hydrangea and chrysanthemums of pinks, yellows and greens were all neatly wrapped with ribbons and raffia. Whether for good or bad, Breeze was still too sore to react to them, other than with a grizzly voice.

  ‘Soila Waneta has been raiding the rooms of all the patients who have not outlived her shifts.’

  Furn dropped into the one chair he had to choose from. ‘I didn’t think flowers came in your size. Are you sure none of them came from Riley. I’m worried about bugs, and I don’t mean aphids.’

  ‘He dropped around this morning but he wasn’t sporting a bouquet. He was on his way back up to Sydney. Seems like McNaught has started to sing his way through interrogation. Naturally, he’s trying to set himself up as a victim. He is standing by his claim, however, that he had nothing to do with clouting you over the head outside the Black Gate. Or that he had anything to do with poisoned kangaroo friend of yours, for that matter. He said, however, Nikki Savva might have had something to do with it. She was Pei’s other chief enforcer. McNaught has gone into some detail about her. Apparently, her adopted parents were abusive, which gave rise to significant neuroses that Pei was able to take full advantage of. Riley went into it in considerable detail, in case I had some issues about being shot in the back by another cop or in giving some in return.’

  ‘So, the poor girl was manipulated to death.’

  ‘We shared the same shrink. Dr Matera. At some point he’s going to have to answer for how Pei got hold of his session notes. If I had half a lung, I’d go ask him right now.’

  ‘He can keep. There’s someone more pressing.’

  Breeze intently read his face. ‘You’ve tracked down Zulma Pei.’

  ‘Let’s just say there’s a lead. McNaught might be doing his best to give her up, but I wonder how much will actually stick to her. So, I’ve got some severe alternative punishment in mind. If any Sapiens survive the round up, they won’t have a martyr in Pei. I’m going to ensure the taste of her own medicine is bitter.’

  Breeze smirked cruelly. ‘What did you have in mind?’

  Furn instinctively checked that the doorway was still clear. ‘It involves raiding a certain warehouse. I won’t burden you with the details in case you decide to take early retirement. But I wish you could come along. The door opening abilities you showed at the Dale Street warehouse would definitely come in handy.’

  ‘Can it wait a week?’

  Furn shook his head. ‘There’s a twenty four hour window.’

  ‘The only way I’m opening a door in that time is if I’m rammed through it in a wheel chair.’

  ‘Your temporary replacement was even more temporary than we envisioned.’

  ‘I heard.’

  ‘So, I’m on the scout for someone else.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Don “Tentative” Jenkins comes to mind. He’s usually on the other side of the fence but that fence isn’t so high.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’

  ‘And he’s motivated. No one likes a friend being tortured to death. But he’s your contact, so I’m here to ask.’

  Breeze mulled over the idea a moment. ‘Don’t go back to the Authority Exchange. If you do, people will suspect he had something to say on the first visit.’

  ‘Where else can I find him?’

  ‘The Oxygen Darts Bar in Spencer’s Lane. He’s there a couple of hours a day. Don’t bother flashing your badge there. The underground darts scene is every bit as shady as the Docklands itself. You could bet your left hand on a match if you were stupid enough. And if you failed to make good on a bet, that’s exactly the kind of down-payment they would accept.’

  Furn was glad to hear the enthusiasm percolating up from his wounded lung. ‘Did Riley have anything else to add?’ he queried, the red Mitsubishi with the dented front on his mind.

  ‘He was just glad that McNaught brought you up in the interrogation. It justifies getting him involved.’

  There was an admonishing grunt at the doorway. Soila Waneta folded her arms, her clenched wrists pressing into her ribs, her forehead bunched up in a frown.

  ‘Helio needs to rest. If you want him well you should leave.’

  ‘Sure.’ Furn got up with a wink. ‘We need him back. The bad guys have stopped looking both ways when they cross the street.’

  ‘Step outside the room for one moment, nurse,’ demanded Breeze as though he carried jurisdiction in this room.

  Waneta complied only after her eyes latched onto him and swelled like ravenous leeches. Breeze and Furn couldn’t help but appreciate the departing curves in the pristine white uniform.

  ‘It must be important,’ said Furn, to risk sending her thermometer a few centimetres in the wrong direction.’

  ‘There’s a bouquet at the back of the road that has a blue card attached. It’s got a name and number and I actually think it was intended for me. Jock McClean of A-Z Demolitions. He would know how to force open a door with more than just an invalid’s wheelchair. And he seems to appreciate the RIP’s way of doing things. Take the card. Take the flowers too if you want to do me a favour.’

  Red geraniums. The card was tied to the base with what appeared to be priming wire. Furn pulled it free and pocketed it. His mind was ticking over as though his ideas were hooked up to priming wire too.

  ‘What’s the warehouse?’ said Breeze, starting to envy him.

  ‘Hey, you’re no longer dying. I don’t need to humour you.’ Furn smiled. ‘You’re not really quitting the RIP, are you?’

  ‘Riley has given me until the Babar trial to think about it. Including adjournments, that should give me five months. I’m going home to see my son and hopefully he will not look through me in return. I have an uncle who owns a winery in the Beaujolais region. We could make a fresh start there. It would be a good life. It’s a serious proposition.’

  ‘Sounds nice. I’ll have to sit down and give it some thought. But for now, there’s a species of sapien about to go the way of the Neanderthals.’

  Furn stepped out into the corridor of while fluorescent light and glistening grey floor.Soila Waneta had not retreated but a few steps. It was only now her arms uncoiled.

  ‘Let me escort you to the elevator. For old time’s sake.’

  ‘What about Breeze?’ murmured Furn. ‘I get the feeling you’ll be escorting him all the way back to France.’

  ‘Do you want to know the saving grace for us girls in the trauma ward? The quality of male body we get to see is simply marvelous. All those pecs, biceps and six pack abs. You might get surprised by the girls’ talk in the shower room.’

  ‘I’d like the opportunity to find out.’

  ‘Breeze passed the test,’ continued Waneta, ignoring the quip. ‘He has earned his Florence Nightingale. But there is no need to be jealous. Some of my single colleagues would enjoy the kind of man they would usually only get to appreciate in pieces. You got a number I could give them?’ Waneta smirked. Her determined studious eyes were the consistency and colour of caviar. This wasn’t the kind of nurse that battled through a shift and chain smoked in the downtime.

  Furn pressed the elevator’s down button. The light was only a few floors above and descen
ding fast. He decided against giving her the number of his bugged cellphone. He didn’t want Johnny Condrey crashing in anywhere else.

  ‘I’ll get back to you on that,’ he said.

  The elevator doors opened to a tired looking doctor nursing a clipboard.

  ‘Get back to me in one piece,’ said Waneta as Furn stepped in beside him. The doors started to closing and she hastily added, ‘Or else you’ll lose your novelty value.’