by JD Nixon
“Tessie, get off the phone and go have some dinner.”
“Okay. Bye Dad. See you later tonight.” I hung up and looked at the Sarge. “All right. I’m ready to try to politely choke down another one of your atrocious, inedible dinners.”
He mock punched my chin. “It will be better than what I’d get at your house.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, so get your arse moving.”
“Consider my arse duly moving.”
The next three hours or so were some of the most relaxed and pleasant that I’d spent in a long time. Barefoot and wearing one of his t-shirts over my uniform cargo pants, I helped him make dinner, which we ate at a leisurely pace at his kitchen table. I refused a glass of wine, sure it would send me straight to snoozeville, but he sipped on what I was sure would have been an expensive and exquisite glass of red.
I spent the rest of the time looking at his travel photos on his computer, glancing at him a few times when pictures of Melissa and him appeared.
“Does it bother you seeing her?” I asked.
“Not really. She was a big part of my life once. I don’t regret that – our relationship was right at the time, but it’s just not right for me anymore. I don’t have any hard feelings or anything for her, but she’s extremely pissed off at me. She doesn’t answer any of the emails I send her, and she’s unfriended me on Facebook. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”
“That’s understandable.” Had I been on Facebook, I would probably have done the same to Jake. I wouldn’t want to know who he was seeing, or what he was saying about me and our relationship. “Were you hard when you ended it?”
“No. I probably wasn’t hard enough. It took her a while to realise I actually meant it.”
What would be worse? I thought. Easing out of a relationship or it ending abruptly? Pulling the plaster off slowly or ripping it off? I decided that both were painful in their own way.
“You look a lot like your dad,” I said, smiling when we got to the photos of him in Ireland.
“Do I? Now you know what I’ll look like when I get older.”
I giggled. “You make it sound like we’ll work together forever.”
“There could be worse fates in life. I can’t actually name any of them at the moment, but I’m sure there must be worse ones. Perhaps being buried in sand up to my neck and having the Super use my head as a football might be slightly more painful.”
I punched him in the arm, but not too hard. After all, he had just made me a delicious dinner that I’d disparaged mercilessly, though I’d gone back for seconds.
“Who are all those people with you? Are they your cousins?”
“No. They’re my brothers and sisters.”
“What? I thought you were joking about that. You’re an only child, aren’t you?”
“I’m the only child from my mother and my father’s marriage, but my father’s had other wives.”
“How many?”
“His current one is number five.”
“What?” My mouth dropped open. “Five wives?”
He smiled with affection. “He’s a bit of a playboy.”
“Obviously. But not a stayer.”
“No, he’s not a stayer. Sometimes I wish he would settle down and stay with one wife. It’s getting a bit embarrassing. My newest sister was born just before I arrived there.”
I laughed. “You have a baby sister. Literally.”
“Literally. Here’s a pic of us together.”
“Aw, she’s beautiful.”
“She is, but to be honest, I have trouble keeping up with who’s who.”
“I bet. But you wouldn’t get to see them very often?”
“Not as much as I’d like, but Dad and I are in touch all the time.”
“Is that so he can give you tips about your love life?”
He whacked me lightly on the back of the head. “You’re wasted in the force, Fuller. You could have a career on stage.”
“He must have to pay oodles of child support.”
“He can afford it. He’s a squillionaire.” He watched my face to gauge my reaction to that piece of news.
I laughed. “There’s no such thing as a squillionaire.”
“I’m exaggerating. He’s probably not a squillionaire anymore. He’s not the smartest man about money, as you can tell from him having so many children. But it’s not really something we ever talk about.”
I wasn’t sure if he was pulling my leg or not. “How did he become a squillionaire?”
“He’s a software developer. He came up with an actuarial program that revolutionised the insurance industry.”
“Oh. An actuarial program,” I said, feigning knowledge. “How, um, interesting.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t understand it either, but it made him very rich. Very, very rich. Of course, this was after my mother left him. They were very young and stony broke when they were married.”
“Why did she leave him?”
“Because he’s a playboy. My mother has great dignity and self-respect, and she wasn’t going to put up with that. So, soon after I was born, she packed her bags, left him and Ireland behind, and returned back here with me. She was only eighteen at the time. They divorced not long after that.”
I couldn’t believe he was opening up to me so much, so I trod carefully, not wanting to destroy the mood.
“But they still get along?”
“For my sake, she kept in touch with him, and allowed me to develop a close relationship with him. But it’s all water under the bridge now. She remarried and he remarried many times, and everything is very civilised, and has been for a long while.”
I sat back in my chair thinking about what he’d just told me. It seemed to me the gulf between our lives had just expanded into a huge, gaping chasm.
“Wow,” I said quietly. “We live very different lives.”
“Not really. My dad’s money is his money. I don’t know what he does with it, and I don’t know if he even has any left. He’s a very generous and extravagant man. He bought me my apartment for my twenty-first birthday, and the Beemer for my thirtieth. I don’t know if he does that for all his kids, or whether it’s because I’m his first born he treats me a bit more specially. I don’t have a trust fund or anything, Tess. I need to earn a living, and I live off my salary, just like you.”
He could spin it anyway he wanted, but there was no way on this planet he was just like me. Maybe he wasn’t a trust fund baby, but he had an apartment, an expensive, sporty car, savings, investments, and a wealthy father who’d gladly bail him out in any situation. I suddenly felt uncomfortable and tongue-tied. I’d wanted him to tell me more about his life, but now I wished he hadn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem a little quiet.”
“Yep. I’m great.” I made a great show of looking at my watch. “Geez, look at the time! I better head off.”
I jumped up and virtually ran from the room to change back into my uniform. I was hastily fastening the last button on my shirt, when the Sarge knocked on the door.
“Tess, better get back in full uniform. Abe needs us at the pub urgently.”
“Okay.”
Five minutes later, we pulled up in the pub carpark. An anxious Abe rushed out to greet us.
“What’s up, Abe?” asked the Sarge.
“It’s Room 1 upstairs. I took both rooms their dinner tonight personally because I didn’t think it was fair to send up one of my staff. That was fine, and they told me to leave the dirty dishes until tomorrow. I knew they were heading off early in the morning and just remembered I hadn’t asked them what time they wanted breakfast. I can’t raise an answer from them. I was going to enter, but thought it would be better for you to check it out.” He handed the Sarge a card. “Here’s my master swipe.”
Not waiting to hear another word, we stormed into the pub and up the stairs, Abe hovering behind us. The Sarge banged on the door of Room 1.
“It’s
Sergeant Maguire here. Can you let me in, please?”
He banged some more, drawing a sleepy Arapeta from his adjoining room.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Sergeant Maguire. Open the door, please.” We looked at each other. “I’m going in.”
“Abe, get down stairs,” I instructed.
He obeyed without a word of complaint, hurrying away. Then I pointed at Arapeta.
“You, get back in your room.” When he hesitated, I said in my cop voice, “Now!”
Reluctantly, he returned to his room and closed the door. We drew our guns and the Sarge used the swipe card to unlock the door, opening it with his foot.
“Police!” he yelled, swooping the room with his gun.
Quentin lay on one of the beds unresponsive to our voices. He wore a t-shirt and boxer shorts, his hands cuffed behind his back. Two trays of used plates, cutlery and glasses sat on one of the other beds; the third on the room’s desk.
“Shit,” said the Sarge.
“They’ve gone,” I spat out. I kicked one of the beds in fury.
We reholstered and went over to Quentin. The Sarge bent over him and examined him for life, which was unnecessary as that man was awake, but drowsy and uncommunicative.
I went out to the stairwell and yelled out, “Abe, up here.” He jumped up the stairs, two at a time. “Call Dr Fenn. Tell him we need him here urgently.”
When I returned to the room, the Sarge had managed to uncuff the still sleepy Quentin.
“What happened?” he asked the man, but he drowsed and mumbled something incoherent.
Arapeta poked his head around the doorway, gasping when he saw his colleague. “Is he going to be okay?”
“How would I know? I’m not a doctor,” I said brusquely. “Did you hear anything?”
“No, we’ve had the television on all night. Didn’t hear a thing.”
I looked at him with contempt. “Congratulations, sport. You and your colleague have just let two prisoners escape.”
“Oh, shit. Let me get dressed and I’ll help you track them down. They can’t have gone far.”
“No, you won’t,” said the Sarge. “Have you forgotten about the other two prisoners you have? You’ll stay here with them.”
“I don’t understand how this could happen. We searched them every single time before they got back in the van.”
“You didn’t search them well enough after the funeral. Someone in their family slipped one of them something. I warned you that these men were devious and not to be trusted.”
“The doc’s on his way,” Abe told me.
“Good. Abe, can you stay here and watch over this guy until Dr Fenn arrives? His name’s Quentin.”
“What do you think happened to him, Tessie?”
“Drugged. What else?”
“I can’t believe they just waltzed out of the pub and nobody noticed,” Abe said.
“Maybe they’re still here inside?” asked the Sarge.
“They’re stupid, but they’re not that stupid,” I said. “We all know where they’ve gone.”
The Sarge and I exchanged a glance.
“Their mother’s place,” he said.
Chapter 35
We left Abe with the drugged man and conferred in the carpark.
“Think about it, Tess. As far as Red and Karl know, nobody was going to bother them for the rest of the night. So their disappearance wouldn’t be discovered until the morning, by which time they’d have escaped far away from here.”
“But not before they attend a wild party.”
“And, even if they’re not at Lola’s, it’s probably a good idea for us to remind them that we’re still on duty and keeping an eye on them. But first,” he said, sitting in the driver’s seat, “I’m going to call it in.”
And for once I agreed with him, listening in as he gave the control centre operator the details of the two escapees.
I quickly rang the Super, but not finding her available, left a message for her.
“Put your bullet proofs on, Tess,” the Sarge said when he’d finished. “Let’s not take any chances.”
We spent a few moments donning those before facing each other at the back of the patrol car.
“They’ll probably be expecting us to turn up at some point tonight,” I said.
“Yeah, but we have the element of surprise about when we will.”
“Should we try the old decoy at the front door, muscle at the back door trick?”
“It’s so predictable. And they’ll just escape through the roof, like Red did last time.”
“Brute force?” I asked.
“What, with two of us against how many of them? Too risky.”
“Ask the Super for backups? She’d have to give us some now.”
“They’d take too long to get here. They’ll be long gone by then.”
I drummed my fingers on the boot of the car. “Sniper attack?”
“Tess,” he said. “You can’t shoot them all.”
“What are we going to do then?” I demanded in frustration. “You come up with something if you don’t like my ideas.”
“This will sound crazy, but how about a routine call?”
“What do you mean?”
“Shh, listen.”
I shut up and listened. In the distance I could hear the distinct bass sounds of music being played very loud. “Disturbance reported by a phantom neighbour?”
“Why not?”
“Okay. Sometimes the simple plans are the best.”
“Ready?” he asked, holding out his fist.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” We knocked fists together in a show of solidarity and climbed into the patrol car.
The music was deafening long before we even reached Lola’s house.
“Crikey, it’s making the car shake,” said the Sarge.
“My ears are starting to bleed.”
“I’m surprised none of the neighbours have actually complained for real.”
“Too scared. Especially tonight. Nobody wants to annoy them tonight.”
“Speaking of that, Tess, you really have to watch your mouth here. They’re probably going to be extremely drunk by now, and most possibly aggressive. It’s not the time to be taunting them.” I didn’t say anything, not wanting to promise something I might not be able to deliver. “Tess, did you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you. I’m sitting right next to you. Though it’s a miracle to be able to hear anything over that noise.”
We pulled up in front of Lola’s place, and went through our routine weapons check. Every light was on in the house. Several of the Bycrafts and their various hangers-on lounged on the front verandah, drinking straight from spirit bottles and smoking weed, the smell wafting over to us.
The only way the Sarge and I could talk to each other was to virtually shout directly into each other’s ears.
“Better hold our breath,” I yelled to him. “Or we’ll end up stoned too.”
“We’d probably end up joining them in their party,” he yelled back. “Okay, let’s do this.”
We stepped out into a chorus of foul-mouthed heckling and jeers. Undeterred, we strode over the patchy lawn and up the saggy stairs.
“Where’s Lola?” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth.
“Fucked if I know,” answered Jade, sipping from a half-empty bottle of vodka before passing it to her cousin, Mikey, and taking a huge puff on a joint.
The Sarge waved his hand in dismissal to tell me to not bother with them, then pointed at the front door. He banged on it to no avail. There was no way we would catch anyone’s attention over the racket.
“Police!” he shouted, but even with his loud voice, nobody could hear.
The room was smoky, and stank of weed, cigarettes, strong spirits, greasy food, and dirty nappies. It was difficult to see through the crowd, some of whom danced or staggered to the music.
Spotting someone, I clutched the Sarge’s sleeve in excit
ement and pointed.
“Karl!”
We pushed through the crowd towards him. He, and most of those around him, was oblivious to our arrival, so he made no attempt to escape. He stood leaning against a wall, puffing on a joint with evident pleasure, holding a can of rum and cola in the other hand.
By the time people started noticing us, the Sarge had his handcuffs out, and I had my gun pressed against Karl’s belly.
“Hello!” I bellowed at him with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Angrily, he tried to push me away to run, others in his family pulling me backwards, but the Sarge had already flipped him around and, with a knee in his back, cuffed him.
I elbowed off the people around me, and we dragged Karl out of the house. He didn’t go without a fight though, dragging his heels and screaming every abuse he could think of at us. Well, at least that’s what I presume he was yelling because I couldn’t actually hear a word he said.
We were soon engulfed in a sea of anger that only grew the more people noticed our presence. Fists rained down on us from every direction. I was feeling pretty pummelled by the time we dragged Karl down the stairs and across the lawn to forcibly shove him in the back seat of the patrol car. The Sarge and I conferred.
“Should we take him back or go in again?” I yelled into his ear. “If Karl was in there, Red has to be too.”
“He would have bolted by now.”
“Maybe. Let’s do a search. We have a sound reason now that we’ve recovered Karl.”
“You sure you want to go back in? They were getting a bit violent.”
I smiled at him, and by the drawing together of his eyebrows, I knew that it wasn’t a nice smile I’d given him. “You bet I do.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
We ran back inside, pushing away anyone who approached us. The Sarge could get by with his size and strength, but I had to pull out my baton to keep my enemies at bay.
We didn’t dare split up, as we’d normally do in a regular house search. I was sure he would have been okay by himself, but suspected he was worried about leaving me on my own. But, whether that was for my benefit or the Bycrafts, I couldn’t say for sure.
The house wasn’t big, so we managed to sweep through it scoping each room fairly quickly. And though the crowd surged and moved continuously to put us off, none of them was smirking or showing any signs that our efforts would be fruitless, as they’d normally do in a situation like this. That gave me hope that we’d still find Red inside.