Blood Tears

by JD Nixon

  “We will,” I promised, dabbing at his bleeding nose with the edge of his going-out shirt.

  The Sarge pointed at Mark. “You’ll be spending the night in the lockup until we can take you to Wattling Bay for assaulting a police officer. Consider yourself under arrest, buddy.” We both knew that was the last thing we wanted to do. A guest overnight in the lockup meant a long, sleepless night for one of us, and it sure wasn’t going to be Baz. The Sarge looked around him and shook his head in disgust. “You people revolt me. Five minutes back in this town and I’ve already had enough of you all.”

  Lola stood near Rick, unafraid of us, her customary cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. She glanced down at her restrained son without much interest, him not being one of the few favourites out of her brood of children. She regarded her nephew, Mark, with even less interest.

  She rounded on the Sarge. “One fucking second back in this town, and we’re all sick of your face, copper. You never should have come back. You’re not wanted in town, and you’re not welcome in this house.” She directed her hate-filled eyes at me. “And neither are you, piglet whore. So fuck off out of my house, you murdering pieces of shit,” Lola demanded, so angry that spittle collected at the sides of her mouth.

  “We’ll leave when we’re good and ready,” the Sarge retorted harshly, stalking over to the two restrained men. “Either of you want to file a complaint against the other?”

  Both men sullenly shook their heads. They might be fighting over the same woman – though God only knew why, considering what an unremitting scrag she was – but they were Bycrafts, and up against the police, they always maintained a united front.

  “Good,” he snapped. “Tess, uncuff this one.” He not so gently kicked Rick to indicate whom he was talking about. “This one’s going to the lockup until the morning.” Mark received an equally ungentle kick.

  “You’re not locking up my Marky,” Dorrie said, advancing on me.

  “Your Marky?” I sneered, uncuffing a hostile Rick. “What a joke you are, Dorrie. It was only a few minutes ago you were calling him a cheating bastard.”

  “You’re not locking him up. You heard them. They’re not pressing charges against each other,” she sneered back, getting in my face. “You’ve got nothing on him.”

  “Are you so stupid that you haven’t yet realised he king-hit a police officer?” I pretended to think about that. “Oh yeah, you probably are that stupid. Brain as thick as pig shit, I reckon.”

  “Tess,” the Sarge warned.

  “So what?” said Dorrie. “That fat bastard deserved what he got. He shouldn’t have interrupted them. The guys were sorting it out between them.”

  I snorted in ridicule. “Sorting it out? You probably think it’s romantic having a couple of guys slugging at each other for the dubious pleasure of knocking you up next. Not that he’d ever know for sure if it was even his baby.”

  “That’s what real guys do, bitch. They fight over chicks. Not that you’d know. You’d be lucky to end up with two scabby rats fighting over your dead body.”

  She stepped up closer to me, so that our noses almost touched, and pushed me in the chest.

  I pulled out my baton and brandished it at her. “You better step back right now, or you’ll get a good dose of this, and I don’t give a crap that you just had a baby.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she mocked. “No one attacks a new mother. Not even dumbshit bitches like you.”

  “Put it away, Tess,” the Sarge instructed quietly. “We have more important things to do right now.”

  I glanced over at him, noting his serious face and the quick, short shake of his head he gave me. He didn’t want to be dealing with two people in the lockup, especially if one was a new mother with a baby to feed.

  Reluctantly, I went over to Baz to help him to his feet, while the Sarge manhandled a fairly legless Mark to the patrol car, shoving him in the backseat.

  “You drive the patrol car,” he said. “I’ll follow in mine.”

  “Okay.” I helped Baz into the front seat, handing him a wad of tissues for his bleeding nose as I drove off. In the rear view mirror, I saw the whole contingent of Bycrafts standing on the front verandah watching us drive away, a malevolent miasma almost visible surrounding them. I resigned myself to this evening only adding to my troubles with them.

  At the station, we virtually had to drag Mark to the lockup, his inebriation catching up with him.

  “He won’t be any trouble,” assessed the Sarge as he closed the barred door on him.

  “Probably won’t even remember it tomorrow,” I said.

  “I better take Baz to the prison so the doctor can check him. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I’ll take him. You can stay here to watch over Mark.”

  We stared at each other, both of us remembering only too well what had happened to me the last time I’d been left alone to guard a Bycraft in the lockup. He had no choice but to agree.

  Despite Baz’s protests, I drove him to the prison to see Dr Fenn, rousing that rather grumpy gentleman from his slumber. He whinged about the Little Town police force, and its use of him as their personal doctor the entire time he examined Baz.

  After checking his pupils, his pulse, and his blood pressure, feeling around Baz’s neck and head for any injuries, applying a cold compress to stop the nose bleeding, and making him swallow a couple of painkillers, he declared that Baz would survive. But he wrote him a medical certificate for the next few days off work.

  I took Baz back to his room at the pub, settled him into bed, leaving Abe’s mobile number on his bedside table.

  “You’re a good girl, Tezza,” he said, snuggled under the blankets, his nose already bruising up.

  “Make sure you tell the Super that, will you?” I said dryly. “I need all the brownie points I can get with her at the moment.”

  “You didn’t tell me Finn came back today.”

  “I only found out late this afternoon when he turned up out of the blue. You knew he was coming though, didn’t you?”

  “Oh now, no third degrees while I’m feeling low, love.” I snorted, rolling my eyes. “It’s lucky he turned up, because it looks as though I’ll be out of action for the next couple of days.”

  “I’m sure I would have coped.”

  “Tezza, you know how vengeful those Bycrafts can be, and after tonight . . . Well, I’m glad you’re not by yourself.”

  I sat on his bed. “Baz, I might have learnt something today about the boy who was killed. Someone who was possibly his father came into the station. He was really upset about his missing son, and the photo he showed me looked a lot like the boy I chased. His son’s name is Jamie Mansfield.”

  “Did you let the dees know?”

  “Yep, I left messages for both of them.”

  “Have you written a report about it?”

  “Yep, it’s in your in-tray.”

  “It’s Finn’s in-tray, love,” he said gently. “He’ll be the dees main contact from now on. Brief him about the case when you see him next.”

  “Okay.” I walked to the door. “Are you sure you’ll be all right? I feel bad leaving you alone after such a punch.”

  “I’ve got a tough noggin, and that Bycraft had a bad aim.” He yawned hugely. “I need to sleep, love. Foxy takes it out of a man, I can tell you that. I’m going to miss her and some of her techniques. Sheer dynamite.”

  After hearing that, I couldn’t escape fast enough. As I walked to the car I sent Abe a text message asking him to check on Baz in the morning, though I’d do the same.

  At the station, the Sarge was sitting in his old seat, his feet up on the desk, reading my report about the visit from Mr Mansfield.

  After I finished telling him about Baz’s condition, he waggled my report around and asked, “Do you want to fill me in on this case?”

  “Now?” I complained, yawning. “No.”

  “Are you honestly goin
g to be able to go back to sleep?”

  I checked my watch. Just going on four-thirty. I looked out the window. The faintest hint of summer dawn lightened the sky, and the early chorus of birds had begun. “Probably not, but I’ve left Jakey asleep at home.”

  “Oh,” he commented neutrally, turning his eyes back to my report. “Still together?”

  “Yes,” I replied, a little defensive. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “I thought his brother’s murder would have caused a lot of problems for you with his family.”

  And yet you still left me here alone, I thought bitterly.

  “It has,” I said quietly, turning on my computer, my turn to look away from him, though I could feel his eyes resting on me.

  “Are you sure you want to go home, Tessie? He probably won’t be too happy with your recent nocturnal adventures with his family.”

  “Perhaps, but it had nothing to do with him, and I’d still like to be there when he wakes up.” Not that it’s any of your business, was the nasty thought that crossed my mind. I busied myself with my computer. “I’ll print off all our reports on this boy’s accidental death. We interviewed everybody, so there are a lot of them. You can read them while you’re watching over Mark.”

  “Back here at eight?”

  “S’pose,” I conceded with bad grace. “It’d be nice to get some sleep for once.”

  “Earlier would be even better as we need to take Bycraft to the watch house in Big Town. I presume you’re taking the patrol car home with you right now.”

  “You presume correctly.” I picked up its key.

  “Don’t get used to it,” he said with a faint smile.

  I shot him an unappreciative glance, and brought up something that had been bothering me. “What were doing there tonight anyway? You’re not on duty yet. Did Baz ring you?”

  “No. I saw the patrol car flying past my house and thought I’d better come help.”

  “How did you know where we were?”

  “Lucky guess. Aren’t you glad I turned up? Especially with Baz knocked out.”

  “I could have coped by myself.”

  “Looked like they were ganging up on you when I arrived.”

  “I could have coped,” I repeated. “What were you doing up at that hour?”

  He reached over to retrieve the papers from the printer. “Contemplating.”

  “Contemplating what?” I asked, despite myself. I didn’t want him to start thinking I was interested in his life, although to be honest, I had a million questions about his break-up with Melissa.

  “Contemplating my future, and how I can make what I want to happen, happen.”

  I scrunched up my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s meaningful to me.”

  “That’s your problem, Maguire. You’ve always been so bloody enigmatic. You couldn’t just say you were contemplating what to have for breakfast in the morning, like a normal person.”

  He laughed out loud. “Still always thinking about food, I see. Believe me, you have no idea how glad I am to be back here.”

  “Right. You’d rather be here than gallivanting around overseas?”

  “I would, actually.”

  I glared at him. “Well, don’t expect me to believe that for a minute.”

  He laughed again, more softly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Fed up with his unfathomable comments, I left him by himself picking up another report to read.

  *****

  I yawned all the way back to the station at seven-thirty.

  I’d woken Jake up when I’d tried to sneak back into bed for another couple of hours sleep. I’d sidestepped his curiosity by merely telling him I’d been on a call-out, deciding I’d leave his family to tell him exactly what I’d been up to. I’d also slapped away his wandering hands, advising him firmly that I’d meant it when I’d said I was exhausted, happy to snuggle with him instead. But it’d seemed only like seconds later that Jake was shaking me awake.

  “Bugger off, Jakey,” I’d mumbled. “I told you I’m too tired for sex.” I’d tried to roll over and resume the very pleasant and fantastical dream I’d been having about eating at Big Town’s posh restaurant, Cybele.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were at Mum’s place last night,” he’d demanded.

  I’d reluctantly unglued my eyelids from each other. “You know I can’t talk about police business.”

  “This is a hard time for her with Denny’s funeral coming up. She’s really upset about what happened last night.”

  “Tough shit for her. Baz is really upset about being king-hit by your cousin. Not to mention being injured.”

  “Tough shit for him. Dorrie said he deserved it.”

  I sat up in bed, still wearing the clothes I’d put on last night before I’d left the house. “Oh,” I’d said frostily. “Dorrie’s ringing you now?”

  “She texted me. So?”

  “And you believe her word about what happened?”

  He’d thrown his legs over the side of the bed, slipping his boxers and jeans over his lithe hips. “She was there.” He’d cast me a sideways glance. “And she’s not as biased as some people”

  With that, I’d stormed off to the bathroom and stayed there until I’d heard his ute driving away.

  At the station, I found the Sarge making himself a coffee, whistling quietly to himself. He turned around at my entrance, pulling a face when he saw mine.

  “You look chirpy today,” he smiled.

  I ignored him, clomping over to the kitchenette to dump spoonfuls of the cheap instant coffee I paid for in a mug, my face like a thundercloud.

  “I have good news and bad news,” the Sarge said, taking a sip of his brew.

  I stared at him, silent.

  “Choose one,” he insisted.

  “Good.”

  “Baz is feeling fine this morning, with no apparent repercussions from last night.”

  “That is good news,” I said quietly, staring at the steam rising from my mug. “I’m glad about that.” I meant that sincerely, though I’d thought about killing him myself a few times over the last few months.

  “Yeah, but the bad news is bad. Very bad.”

  I met his eyes. “What is it?”

  “The Super wants to see us this morning. In person.”

  Chapter 9

  I groaned. “Oh, man. Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.” I desperately wracked my brain for anything I felt guilty about, but Baz had kept me on too short a leash to let me get up to anything I’d get into trouble over later.

  “Don’t go assuming it’s because you’ve done something wrong. It’s not the only reason she ever summons us.”

  We exchanged a glance.

  “Only ninety per cent of the time, right?” I said, conceding to him the barest uplifting of my mouth that could be called a smile.

  “I would have said ninety-eight per cent,” he smiled. “Lucky we were going there anyway today. Car key?”

  I handed it over to him. “Maybe she wants to congratulate us for arresting Mark Bycraft?”

  “Sure, because she’s always doing that, and complimenting us on our policing skills,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe she wants to welcome me back?”

  “Hmm. Don’t hold your hopes out for that.” I almost made it to a full smile then, a sensation that felt as if it would make my face crack, it was so alien.

  He sighed, casting me a sly sideways glance. “It would be nice to have someone welcome me back.”

  “I bet it would,” I replied, not giving in to his implied invitation to thaw a little.

  “God, it’s like reliving my first day all over again.”

  “I could make you eat dirt and arrest you again, if you like, Maguire.”

  “Always the sweet charmer, Fuller. I really missed that about you,” he said dryly. “Okay, let’s retrieve our man and get moving to Big Town. The Super was expecting us an hour ago.”

  “She’s so bl
oody unreasonable all the time,” I muttered, abandoning my coffee, grabbing my cap and doing up my utility belt. Despite knowing she’d be watching the second hand on her clock, I took a few minutes to print off a couple of copies of my report on Mr Mansfield’s visit for Mr X and Zelda.

  He shot me a sharp glance. “You’re not still angry with her, are you?”

  “I’m still angry with everybody,” I said, barging in front of him out the back door.

  At Mark’s cell, I banged with little consideration loudly on the wall.

  “Get up! It’s time for a little trip to Big Town,” I yelled, only to be greeted with a thunderous round of snoring.

  “We should probably give him some breakfast,” said the Sarge, looking in the cell with little enthusiasm.

  “Nah, stuff him. Open the door, will you? He’s not rousing.”

  “Not surprising. He was smashed when we took him.”

  Inside the cell, we were both assailed by a horrible smell.

  “Oh, yuck. He’s spewed everywhere,” I said, trying not to heave myself.

  The Sarge wrinkled his elegant nose. “Smells vile. Let’s try to get him awake and out of here.”

  “We can’t leave the cell like this. What if we need it later?”

  “Leave it for the cleaning woman.”

  I gave him a withering stare. “What cleaning woman? The second you took off, she stopped coming. We haven’t had one for months.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think of that. Sorry.”

  “Were you paying for her out of your own pocket?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t want you wasting your time doing chores. That’s not what you were trained for.”

  “Yeah, well, tell that to this stupid dropkick.” I nudged Mark with my boot. “Let’s move him into the next cell. You can clean him up, and find a fresh shirt for him to wear. I’ll give this cell a quick mop up.”

  He looked down at Mark dismally. “The Super’s going to rip us both a new one for being late.”

  “Welcome back to Little Town.”