A Time to Run

by J. M. Peace

  Gavin got on well with Bob. He wasn’t sure if this would make things easier or harder right now.

  ‘G’day big fella, what’s goin’ on?’ said Bob, reaching across the counter to shake Gavin’s hand.

  ‘G’day,’ he replied.

  There was a pause. Bob looked at him expectantly. Gavin wasn’t quite sure how to start.

  ‘Are you looking for Sammi? I didn’t think she started till twelve,’ Bob asked, more to break the silence than expecting an answer.

  Gavin nodded. ‘Yeah, twelve.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Have you heard from her?’

  ‘No. Why?’ asked Bob.

  ‘I think she’s missing.’

  There. He’d said it. The anxious worry he’d nursed all morning had been vocalised.

  Bob looked at him intently for a moment without saying anything.

  ‘You better come on through.’ He opened the door linking the front-counter foyer to the station and led Gavin through to the sergeant’s office.

  They sat down. ‘What do you mean “missing”?’ asked Bob.

  ‘I don’t know where she is and her mobile phone is turned off,’ Gavin said.

  ‘What’s happened? Why don’t you know where she is?’ Bob asked.

  Gavin shifted his gaze from his shoes to just left of Bob’s ear.

  ‘We had a bit of a barney last night. Nothing serious, just the usual. Bit of yelling and then we went our separate ways.’

  Bob nodded, without further question. All Sammi’s colleagues knew that she and Gavin got a bit noisy with each other sometimes. But they also knew there was never any violence. Everyone had their ups and downs – a bit of yelling didn’t mean the relationship was in trouble.

  Sammi had often spoken about Bob to Gavin. They got on well together despite their age gap. Sammi always tried to do her job properly and listened when Bob gave her guidance.

  ‘So you had a blue and she’s taken off?’ Bob asked.

  ‘Yep, I went for a jog and when I came back, she was gone. So were her toothbrush and overnight bag. I haven’t heard from her since. I kept calling her, and one of her friends eventually answered her phone and said Sammi was staying the night with her. She’s an old school friend of Sammi’s, lives down in Brisbane. Her name is Candy and she’s a bit of a wild thing. I got her out of bed about 45 minutes ago. Sammi’s not there and Candy has no idea where she is. Sammi’s car is still parked at her place and as far as she can tell, she didn’t make it back to Candy’s house last night.’

  ‘What makes you think her night out didn’t just turn into a morning out?’ asked Bob.

  ‘Well, this isn’t like her . . .’ Gavin began.

  Bob gave him a quizzical look, and Gavin quickly continued. ‘I know you must hear that all the time with missing persons. But you know it’s true. You know Sammi. Yes, we had a fight, but she’s normally over it pretty quickly. She may not want to talk to me, but she hardly ever actually turns off her phone. She normally just lets it go to message bank or hangs up on me if she’s still pissed off. But mostly, I’m worried because she’s going to miss the start of her shift. It’s nine now. She starts at twelve. Forest Lake is three hours’ drive away. If she was going to make it back in time to have a shower, get changed, then get to work fifteen minutes early like she always does, she’d have left Candy’s half an hour ago. But instead, her car’s there, her phone’s off and no one’s heard from her. She can be as mad at me as she likes, but she’s still going to turn up to work. You know that too. You know this is out of character.’

  Bob nodded.

  ‘Let me try her number. If she’s screening calls, she’ll probably answer mine, if she thinks it’s to do with work.’

  Gavin nodded and recited the ten digits for Bob. It went straight to message bank. Her phone was off, but it was possible that Sammi was checking her messages.

  ‘Hi Sammi, it’s Bob from work. Can you give me a quick call as soon as you get this? It’s about your shift today. Thanks.’ Bob hung up.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Gavin. ‘You’re right, she’ll call you back.’ He shifted his weight on the chair. ‘Now, what else can we do?’

  Bob shook his head slightly. ‘Look, Gav, honestly, she’s not really missing yet, is she? Sorry, but it’s most likely that she’s found a . . .’ Bob paused, clearly searching for the right words, ‘. . . new friend last night. She’s gone home with someone else, and she’s lost track of time. Her phone battery’s dead so her alarm didn’t go off. She hasn’t called you because she’s still upset about this fight from yesterday. She’ll turn up here half an hour late in last night’s clothes, full of apologies.’

  Just like that, Bob had explained everything.

  It was Gavin’s turn to shake his head. ‘I’ve just got a bad feeling. She’s not like this.’

  ‘Yep, I agree with you there, mate. But sometimes we all break out of our shells. Just because it’s not like her, it doesn’t mean she hasn’t done it. And no one but you and Sammi know just what happened yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ Gavin trailed off again. He really didn’t have any other arguments aside from the uneasy feeling of not knowing where the woman he loved was.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we’ve got to be realistic here. I like Sammi and I’d always help her out. But I just think she’s taking a bit of time for herself, maybe trying to punish you over your fight yesterday. I’m sure we’ll hear from her soon. You just need to leave it a bit longer,’ Bob said.

  Gavin exhaled loudly.

  ‘I know you’re not happy about this, but look at it this way. If you insist I start a missing persons report, and Sammi is just running late, how much trouble do you think that’s going to cause her? Once the report goes on the system, it automatically gets sent down to Missing Persons Bureau in Brisbane. As soon as they pull up her name, they’ll see she’s a copper. All sorts of bosses will be notified, and there’ll be questions asked. She won’t just be able to slink in here half an hour late, say sorry and be done with it. I don’t think that would do either one of you any good,’ Bob explained. ‘Why don’t you just leave it with me for an hour? I’ll keep trying her phone and we’ll just give her a bit of time to surface.’

  ‘Yeah, OK.’ Gavin rubbed his eyes. It had been a rough night and it had crossed his mind that his lack of sleep may be clouding his judgement, blowing things out of proportion. That and this sense of unease that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

  ‘Thanks anyway,’ Gavin said and got to his feet. They both walked out together. Gavin pointed at the back corridor.

  ‘I’m parked in the staff carpark. Do you mind if I go out the back way?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Bob said.

  Gavin knew the station well. The back way to the carpark took him past the station barracks. It consisted of four bedrooms, a shared kitchen, lounge and bathroom area. It had been purpose-built to try to attract officers to work at the station.

  A room in the barracks meant free rent. But it also meant a kitchen where the food splatters could be carbon-dated and thongs were a must-have in the shower and toilet. At its worst, it looked like a cross between a bachelor’s pad and a squat.

  There was a patio attached to the front, with tables and chairs and the obligatory barbecue. The social club held frequent functions here and had installed a coin-operated soft-drink machine. So the other drawback to living in the barracks was that the party was always at your place. Every shift worker had earplugs for these sorts of eventualities.

  Gavin hesitated slightly before rapping on the window of the last bedroom. The curtain was drawn and the window closed. You never knew when a shift-worker might be sleeping. But this was important.

  The curtain pulled back, the window slid open and Tom Janusch’s head and naked torso appeared.

  ‘G’day, Gav,’ he said.

  ‘G’day, Tom. I d
idn’t wake you, did I?’ Gavin asked.

  ‘Nah, just watching TV in bed.’

  Gavin had taken an immediate liking to Tom the first time he’d met him. It was hard not to. He was quick to smile and had an abundance of enthusiasm for just about anything, especially his job. Four years in, and he still bounced around like he was fresh out of the academy, ready for the next job. Gavin knew that Sammi counted Tom as a friend, not just a workmate. He hoped Tom would take him seriously.

  ‘Tom, I need help. I think Sammi’s gone missing,’ he said.

  That chased the smile away from Tom’s face. His eyebrows knitted together.

  ‘I talked to Bob but he’s pretty much flicked me off,’ Gavin explained.

  ‘Hang on,’ Tom said and disappeared behind the curtain. A couple of minutes and a wrinkled shirt later, he was sitting opposite Gavin in the patio.

  ‘Hmm,’ was all he managed to say after Gavin finished. Tom looked past Gavin, sucking the inside of his cheek.

  ‘Where did you say the friend saw her last?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Lion’s Head at Inala,’ said Gavin. ‘It’s some pub or club. I don’t know exactly. I don’t really know Brisbane.’

  ‘I’ve got a mate there – Jake,’ Tom said. ‘We went through the academy together. He’s with the Ds at Inala CIB. I could give him a call. He might be able to go to the pub, ask around.’

  Gavin forced a half-smile. ‘I knew you’d help, mate.’

  ‘Bear with me for a minute.’

  Tom rose and went back into the barracks.

  Gavin stood up too and dug around in his pocket as he walked to the drinks machine. He hesitated a moment and checked his watch again. He had been watching the clock all morning, trying to decide when to come to the station. It had been a long morning, and it felt much later than it actually was. Gavin slotted in his coins and pressed the top button marked ‘Sherbet’. A cold can of beer dropped down with a clang. Gavin cracked it open and took a long sip before resuming his seat.

  Moments later, Tom reappeared, with a broad smile.

  ‘Hey, we’re in luck. My mate’s working day shift today. He’s going to make some calls, go round to the Lion’s Head and see if anyone saw Sammi,’ Tom said. ‘And I told him that Sammi was due at work at ten, not twelve. They’ll take it more seriously then.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom,’ said Gavin, relieved that someone agreed with him.

  As if he were reading Gavin’s mind, Tom said, ‘She would have called by now if she was going to be late.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Gavin said. He dug around in his pocket. ‘Can I get you a beer?’ he asked Tom.

  Tom eyed the beer and then his watch. ‘Nah, better not. I start work at midday,’ he said.

  ‘So does Sammi,’ said Gavin.

  Saturday 9:34 am

  Don leant through the open driver’s door into the front of the ute. Sammi watched as he emerged with a long black bag. He put it on the ground, unzipped it and pulled out a hunting rifle with a large scope on top. Sammi’s blood ran cold. She swallowed her fear and tried to keep her face impassive.

  ‘It’s a good gun,’ he said, running his hand along the stock. ‘A Weatherby Ultra Light. Perfect for carrying through the bush and hunting. Do you like guns?’

  Sammi guessed he was trying to get a reaction from her and the last thing she wanted was to see him enjoying this. She gave him no response, but he seemed to expect none and kept talking.

  ‘I used to come out here hunting kangaroos and bush pigs,’ he told her. He spoke casually as if they were passing time, waiting at a bus stop. This disturbed Sammi almost as much as what he was saying.

  ‘But that got boring. It takes no effort to find a roo and pop it between the eyes. Even if you just hit it in the shoulder and watch it run, there’s still no skill in it. Bush pigs are a bit harder, it takes more to kill a wild pig. They’re smart, smarter than a dog, I reckon, just much uglier. But it’s still not too hard. Two shots between the ribs and leave them to the dog to finish off. I wanted a bit of a challenge.’ His pupils were large and black with excitement.

  ‘Can you give me a challenge? Are you smarter than a bush pig?’ he asked.

  Sammi couldn’t meet his gaze. Her breath was coming faster as she started to realise why he had brought her out here.

  ‘I know what I’m doing,’ he continued. ‘I’ve done it before. I started out with a hooker, no one ever misses them. She was just a useless drug-fucked bitch, and it made me think about what she might be good for. I wondered if she was as smart as a roo or even a feral pig. So I let her run, tracked her through the bush and killed her when I was ready. It was so easy. She never had a chance,’ he said.

  He had moved closer to where Sammi was sitting on the ground. He loomed over her and kept going. He was on a roll.

  ‘The second whore was worse. She wouldn’t even run, too used to just lying on her back. She was right there where you are now, begging me to let her go, saying she wouldn’t go to the police. What a waste of space. She was no good for anything. She was dumber than a bush pig. A pig would have run, put up a fight. She wouldn’t even get up, all she did was cry. I slit her throat where she was, and let her bleed out.

  ‘See that tree? She’s buried under there,’ he pointed at a gum tree about five metres away.

  Despite herself, Sammi looked towards where he was pointing. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, and wondered if he was trying to scare her.

  ‘That was a while ago now. Turns out she was good for something. Compost! That gum tree’s been growing really well.’

  He laughed, harsh and humourless. ‘I’ve been practising since then. I learnt a lot from those whores. They only care about money or drugs. They don’t care enough about their own lives to put up a good fight. I’ve been a bit more picky since then.’

  He pulled a cloth out of the gun bag and rubbed the barrel of his gun in long stroking motions while staring down at Sammi. It seemed an almost subconscious action. She could not bring herself to look at his face. In her mind, she was screaming, but she kept her mouth resolutely shut.

  ‘Number three was maybe the same age as you. She was quite fit and half-smart. I gave her a good head start to make it last. But she managed to find her way back to the track we drove in on. I had to kill her on the spot. You must not make the same mistake as her. Don’t try to find the track in. There is no escape from this bushland. There is no one to help you.

  ‘Number four was a pretty young thing. You still see her photo on the news occasionally. I got a bit too much of the Zolpidem into her drink. She took ages to wake up and then she was sick. I didn’t have so much time with her. It was worth it, though. And every time I see her picture on the news, I remember the look on her face when I slit her throat. She knew it was the end.’

  Sammi glanced up to see Don had shifted his gaze to a spot just above Sammi’s head, a slight smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

  ‘She was the best.’

  His dark eyes flicked down to Sammi. ‘So far.’

  He let the implication sink in.

  ‘We’ve got a bit more time this morning. No one’s going to be looking for you for a while. Your friend was too drunk and too busy to notice you didn’t make it home. She’ll still be asleep now, then probably get hammered again by her two new friends when they all wake up. I reckon it’ll go midday before she even notices you’re missing.

  ‘She was a nice little slut. I would have liked to take you both. Reckon I’ve had enough practice now to handle two bitches. But you’ll have to be enough for today. And we’ll see how long before I start seeing your face on the news. Probably Tuesday, I reckon. What do you think? How long before some­one starts missing you?’

  He smiled, a twisted snarl. He’d stopped rubbing his gun barrel, and now fingered the stock.

  ‘I’ve been keeping score
,’ he said. He ran his fingers across four gouges hacked into the wooden stock of the gun. ‘See? One gash for each gash.’

  Sammi saw them. Each mark numbering a life. And she was next.

  Sweat started to bead on her brow and her breathing was ragged. Sammi could hardly hear him over the thundering noise of her own heartbeat. She kept her face turned down and away from his black eyes and dark intentions.

  ‘I want to show you something.’

  He slung the gun over his shoulder and turned back to the ute. He rummaged in the front seat and pulled out a small black box. A camera.

  Saturday 9:47 am

  It had started as a low-key day at Inala Criminal Investigation Branch. A cup of coffee stirred through with a dash of peace and quiet, time to check internal emails and work lists. The night shift had been quiet and the night wireless crew had nothing to hand over. It would be a good day for making enquiries, maybe taking a couple of statements. If nothing cropped up. Janine and Jake were the only ones starting at 6 am and both would be quite happy to pass the morning concentrating on their own work rather than tackle something new.

  Detective Senior Constable Janine Postlewaite was the ranking officer that shift, but rarely felt the need to pull rank. She should have been a sergeant by now with her length of service and work history but she didn’t want to leave Inala. It was convenient for her and she liked the crew. No one up the chain was retiring or moving on, so she was marking time in a Senior Connie spot.

  Most of the time, she worked with Jake. Real name Anthony Johnson, but even the coppers who didn’t know the origin of the nickname called him Jake because everyone else did. He fancied himself a bit of a ladies’ man, and he was, if you counted quantity, not quality. One night at a send-off for a colleague, after a few amber lip-looseners, he divulged his pet name for his privates, ‘Jake the Love Snake’. It very quickly became public knowledge and the nickname had stuck. He carried it with a degree of unabashed pride and was quite happy to fill in the details if anyone asked. Especially if it was a female trainee, still wide-eyed and easily flustered.