Blood Tears

by JD Nixon

  “Now she thinks of it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  We battled our way back to the fence.

  “How about we follow the fence and see if we can find anything?” I suggested.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We walked along the fence line for a few minutes until we came across what appeared to be a path. It was quite wild and barely discernable through the thick bush.

  “Could be one of the Bycrafts’ escape routes,” I hazarded a guess.

  “Doesn’t get used much by the looks of it.”

  “They’ve probably given up trying to rob the Kilroys since they installed that alarm in their house.”

  “Let’s explore where it goes.” We both stepped forward to take the lead, when he held me back with his arm. “This isn’t a time for you to go first. You can follow me.”

  “Sarge! I’m perfectly capable of leading, thank you very much. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a work situation, not a dance.”

  “Nope. Not happening, so there’s no point having a tantrum over it. We don’t know what we’re going to find and besides, if I go first, it will help save you from more scratches.”

  I thought about that for a few seconds, but the stinging of the scratches on my arms convinced me to acquiesce. He led the way.

  After another five minutes of hard work when I was just about to tell him to forget it, that I must have been wrong, he stopped all of a sudden.

  “Bingo,” he said triumphantly.

  I pushed past him to see. A small, ramshackle outbuilding sat in a hollow, almost covered with creeping vines. Part of the roof had rusted off and there was no glass left in any of the windows. An ancient, rusty bike leaned up against the wall.

  “Looks like we have a contender,” I said.

  “They were lucky to find it in this jungle.”

  “Makes it even more of a good hiding spot for a couple of runaways though.” I appraised the dilapidated exterior. “So, this was where Graham stashed that suitcase of money he found at Miss G’s house.”

  “It’s hard to imagine him being able to find this place. He always seemed like he’d have trouble finding his own arse.”

  “He fooled us though, didn’t he?” I smiled.

  “Can’t win them all. What are we looking for here?”

  “Any sign of occupation. Or preferably the stash of goodies they nicked from Merrick.”

  “Let’s scope inside.”

  The knob-less door emitted an almost mournful sound as the Sarge pushed it cautiously open.

  “Police,” he said out of habit, but it was pretty clear from the loud chirping of crickets and its air of abandonment, that the shed was empty.

  “I think we’ve found it, Sarge.”

  “I think so.”

  We both crouched down next to a pile of dirty blankets that lay huddled in the corner of the shed with the most solid roof. Some empty tins of food and bottles of water were neatly stacked next to the blankets.

  “Geez, this is a rough place for a heavily pregnant girl to be staying. It must have been hell for her. Especially when Jamie disappeared,” I said, feeling sad for Annabel all over again.

  “She must have completely run out of food and water. There’s none here at all.”

  “Yeah, that’s what forced her into town when she started her labour. I’m glad she did, though. I hate to think of her here trying to deliver her own baby.”

  He started prowling around the small space, looking for the bundle of goodies. It seemed impossible that she could have hidden anything in this shed, built as it was of weatherboards with no internal cladding, no ceiling space, and a roughly laid cement slab floor. The only place was the little corner of habitation, so I lifted up the bundle of blankets to find a battered sports bag.

  “Sarge,” I alerted, wanting a witness to whatever was inside. He stood over me as I pulled out a pair of disposable gloves and unzipped the bag.

  “Holy shit!” he said, looking down at it.

  “Wow,” I said, eyes nearly popping out of my head. “We should come here more often. There seems to be valuables stashed here all the time.”

  Inside was a virtual treasure chest of valuables – necklaces, rings, bracelets, watches, and figurines.

  “Seems as though he kept all the good stuff for himself, not just some of it,” noted the Sarge dryly.

  “No wonder he was after them. This would be worth a fortune. Those kids must have been terrified he’d find them.”

  He slipped on his gloves and picked up a brooch, an exquisite item of great beauty, before replacing it and picking up a necklace. “I can see why they had trouble shifting any of this stuff. They all look like unique pieces. That could be why he kept them. No one involved in a dodgy deal in a pub would agree to take these. Too hard to get rid of.”

  “Perhaps he saved them up so he could sell them to collectors with less of a moral conscience about where items came from.”

  “Perhaps.” He stood again. “We better take this stuff into custody, and the sooner we hand it over to the Big Town station the better.”

  “I’d love to assure Annabel we’d found it all, and that Merrick will never get his hands on it. Could we stop by the hospital after we hand this lot over to visit her?”

  He smiled. “You just want to cluck over her baby again.”

  “Excuse me,” I said, majorly affronted. “I’ve never clucked at anyone in my life.”

  Laughing, he picked up the bag. “I didn’t say cluck at, but hey, if the feathers fit . . .”

  “You’re just begging for another thumping, Maguire,” I warned.

  “You’re cute when you’re angry,” he said, escaping out the door still laughing, before I could carry out my threat.

  Back in the patrol car, with a few fresh scratches to add to our previous, I hesitated before I spoke again. “When we were talking about Miss G’s house before, did you hear she left it to me in her will?”

  He appeared stunned. “Really? No, I hadn’t heard that. That’s great news.”

  “Is it? You remember her house. It needs so much work, and the council rates are so expensive. There’s no way I can afford that.”

  “Forget the house. Sell the land.”

  “Do you think I should? I don’t know what to do with it. I know it was very generous of her to leave it to me, but I don’t really want it. Especially a house where such a terrible thing happened. Who’d want that? I mostly try to ignore it, but I know I’ll have to do something about it soon, or otherwise the Bycrafts will have stolen what’s left inside.”

  “She didn’t leave you her furniture?”

  “No. I understand it was sold and the proceeds given to one of her favourite charities.”

  “Have you checked on it lately?”

  “No. I try to avoid it. I still haven’t even cleaned up the mess after Miss G’s death.”

  “Are you saying it’s still the same way we found it?”

  “Except for the furniture gone, yes. I just can’t bring myself to go inside.”

  “I’ll help you clean it, if you like.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I’d be glad to pitch in.”

  “Thanks, Sarge. That’s so nice of you. To be honest, the thought of being in that house alone was creeping me out.”

  He shot me a sly glance. “That’s not like you. I go away for a few months and come back to find you scared of ghosts and trying to interpret dreams. Maybe you’re the one who needs to team up with Lavinia.”

  I laughed. “No, thanks. She creeps me out more than Miss G’s house.”

  “Your house, Tessie. It’s your house now. Not Miss Greville’s.”

  “That will take me a while to get used to.”

  “Oh, one thing you should consider before thinking about selling.”

  “What?”

  “You should check to see if the house is heritage-listed. It’s old, isn’t it?”

  “Yep. Probably one of the first
, if not the first, proper houses built in town. Built around the late 1880s.”

  “Hmm, that could be a problem.”

  “Why?”

  “You can’t knock down heritage-listed buildings. You’d have to sell the house and land as a package, but then the person who bought it couldn’t knock it down either.”

  “Oh, that’s just great. Who in their right mind would buy it then? It’s not like we have an influx of new arrivals recently, apart from Teddy and Lee. And I suppose they were only interested in buying off us because Nana Fuller’s house had already burnt down, leaving them free to build their own house.” I glanced at him. “Don’t suppose you have any matches on you?”

  “I hope you’re joking, Tess. Otherwise, I do not want to hear another word. Not one word about that ever again.”

  “Of course I was joking,” I assured him.

  But was I?

  Chapter 22

  After witnessing him securing the valuables in the station’s small safe, I rang the hospital to let Annabel know we’d visit her later today.

  “I’m sorry, Senior Constable,” said a crisp voice on the other end of the line, after a short delay. “She was discharged early this morning.”

  “What?” I asked in disbelief. “Where did she go? Did the social worker arrange some accommodation for her?”

  “I’ll put you through to the ward. Just a moment.”

  I waited impatiently until another voice came on the line. I explained who I was and that I wanted to speak to Annabel again.

  “She was discharged this morning.”

  “I know that,” I said, a little snippy. “Do you know where she went?”

  “Home.”

  “Home? What do you mean home?”

  “It’s a pretty common word, Senior Constable,” the voice sniped back at me, and I wondered if it belonged to that grumpy nurse who’d chased us from the hospital. “It’s the place where she lives.”

  “She doesn’t live anywhere,” I said through gritted teeth. “She’s homeless.”

  “Nonsense. Her father came to collect her this morning.”

  My blood ran cold. “Her father?”

  “Yes. You seem to have some trouble comprehending basic English. Her father.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Describe him to me.”

  “Sort of eccentric looking. A certain flare for clothing. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “How did she seem when he came to collect her?”

  “She was upset, of course. She’s been upset ever since you told her about the father of her child.”

  “Did he say where they were going?”

  “Home. I just told you! He said he was looking forward to her returning home with him.”

  I hung up on her without another word. In fury, I kicked my rubbish bin across the room where it smashed into one of the filing cabinets with a clatter that had the Sarge on his feet.

  “Tess, what the hell’s the matter?”

  “He’s got her,” I said, looking around for something else to kick or punch.

  “Hey, calm down, right now,” he ordered. “Abusing inanimate objects isn’t going to make anything better. Tell me, who’s got who?”

  I took a couple of deep breaths, amazed at how quickly his few calm words helped me pull myself under control. “The hospital staff just told me that Annabel was discharged this morning into the care of her father.”

  “Merrick.”

  “The nurse described him to a T.”

  Without waiting for a response from him, I marched to the phone and jabbed in the number for Mr X.

  “Tessie, I was going to ring you –” he started amiably.

  “Merrick has Annabel,” I interrupted, not caring if he thought I was rude. “He just waltzed into the hospital and took her with him.”

  “No.”

  “Yes! I left you a message yesterday telling you that I’d seen him in Wattling Bay. Didn’t you get it?”

  “Yes, and –”

  “You were supposed to check on her.”

  “We did, Tess. We rang –”

  “You were supposed to keep her safe. You promised. I told her we’d keep her safe from him. And now he’s taken her, and we don’t know where she and her baby are.”

  “Tess –”

  “She’s in danger from him. He abused her, and now she’s back under his control. I have a photo of him abusing her.”

  “Tess –”

  “It could be his baby. And he wanted her to get rid of it.

  “Tess –”

  “That baby is in danger from him.”

  “Tess –”

  “I just can’t believe none of you took me seriously about him. I’m so angry.”

  “Tess –”

  In a blind fury, I hung up on him as well, which I knew he’d definitely think was rude.

  The Sarge had watched my exchange closely. “What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t really give him a chance to speak.”

  “I kind of gathered that from what I heard,” he said dryly, picking up the phone himself. He commenced a calm conversation with someone that I assumed was a rattled Mr X.

  Not wanting to even listen to half a conversation in which my manners, lack of etiquette, and lack of respect for officers senior to me were discussed, I took myself out to the back verandah. I sat on the back stairs and willed myself back into calmness. I told myself that there was nothing I could do for Annabel and I’d just have to trust in the efficiency and dedication of my colleagues in Big Town to rescue her from her kidnapper.

  “Tess, there’s nothing you can do about the situation right now,” said the Sarge from the doorway.

  “I know,” I said quietly, without turning to look at him. “I was just telling myself that.”

  He came and sat down next to me, forcing me to shuffle over so he could fit in his big frame.

  “Mr X and Zelda did check on Annabel after they received your messages yesterday. And they had every intention of checking on her again today, but were caught up in some urgent business that they had to prioritise. You know yourself what it’s like in this job. Sometimes you have to drop everything when something more important comes along.”

  “I know that. But Annabel is important to me.”

  “They’re going to the hospital now to interview the staff, and they’ll put out a bulletin about the trio to all police in the district, not just Big Town. I think you’d have to be fair and admit that they’re doing everything they can.”

  “After the fact, Sarge. That’s what shits me so much about this. I couldn’t get them interested in him, even after I saw him in Big Town. Nobody there ever listens to anything I say.”

  “I understand you’re angry about it all. But you’ve done what you can in this investigation, including recovering those valuables, which we’ll take to Big Town when we get the chance. Now the best thing you can do is go back inside and work on your reports until lunchtime.”

  I gave him a reluctant smile. “You’d say that even if it was the last day on Earth, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yep,” he smiled back, nudging me with his shoulder. “Off you go.”

  I nudged him back a lot harder and stood, dusting off the rear of my cargo pants. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, standing himself.

  “You sergeants are so lazy. You could make one yourself one day, you know. Even you, with your terrible kitchen skills, could manage that.”

  “Maybe I like you waiting on me.” I glared at him, unimpressed, one hand on my hip. He held his hands up in mock fright. “I know, I know. I’m asking for a thumping.”

  “You better believe it, buddy.”

  But I went and made us both a cup, grabbing three Tim Tams for myself. I munched on them while I typed clumsily with one hand.

  The Sarge watched me for a few moments. “It would be faster and easier if y
ou used both hands to type.”

  “Yeah, but then I couldn’t hold my Tim Tam.”

  “You probably shouldn’t eat at your desk anyway. I bet your keyboard is full of crumbs.”

  “Of course it’s not,” I asserted, showing him by holding it upside down and shaking. A small blizzard of chocolate flakes descended to my desk. I looked at him sheepishly. “Well, maybe a couple of crumbs.”

  He shook his head and returned to his own reports. We worked solidly until lunchtime.

  As we sat at his kitchen table, having finished our sandwiches, my phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and answered.

  “Tess Fuller.”

  “Tess, this Lloyd from Zippy Wheels Mechanics in Wattling Bay. Your husband rang about a broken down vehicle yesterday?”

  Not so zippy, are you, Lloyd? I thought ungraciously to myself, considering it was yesterday I’d broken down.

  “He’s not my husband. But otherwise, yes. I had a broken down vehicle on Wattling Bay Road.”

  “Oh,” he said, clearly thrown. “Well, your boyfriend or whatever. I’ve just finished working on your vehicle.”

  “Okay, tell me what’s wrong with it,” I demanded, steeling myself and already seeing the dollar signs racking up.

  “Where do I start?”

  That’s not a very promising beginning to our transaction, I thought gloomily. He confirmed my worst fears by rattling off a number of mechanical problems I didn’t even understand.

  I cut to the chase. “How much will it cost?”

  I was glad I was sitting down when he told me, because my legs suddenly felt rather weak. It would probably be cheaper to buy a new vehicle. When he said the business would send me the bill, I could only articulate a kind of gurgle in response.

  Oh God, I thought in desperation. If I hold off the electricity bill AND the telephone bill until final demands, and Dad and I didn’t eat for two weeks, I might just be able to pay part of it.

  “Trouble?” enquired the Sarge.

  “Nope. Everything’s just great,” I lied. “The Land Rover’s ready to pick up.”

  “Let’s take a spin there now before we get back to work. I presume the mechanic managed to get it working again?”