by Bill Day
All Fingers does is jab the shovel into the ground and Helen springs into action. The first dahlia is demolished in under three minutes. Helen focuses on the dahlias as easy targets.
Jack Chisholm retreats further into his house. He sobs and whimpers as Helen the Destroyer lays waste to his dahlia patch. Fountains of dirt and shredded dahlia spray in all directions. It looks like no man’s land. Unabridged howling comes from inside the house.
“Come on Monty. Let's check out the back yard.”
We move through a chain-link gate into the large back yard. The garden here is beyond spectacular. The back door of the house opens and I see Jack for the first time. He is a burly chap dressed in nothing but a pink dressing gown with matching slippers. Tears run down his cheeks. Holding his dressing gown closed he walks over to Fingers.
“I won’t sell, Fingers. You can rip up the bloody lot for all I care.”
Fingers walks over to a large terra cotta pot which contains some kind of orchid. He stares at it and Helen falls to work. It is razed in seconds. Helen attention strays to a vegetable patch in the back corner of the yard. She starts to dig. Jack goes pale.
“Get her away from my turnips! Go on, shoo!” He runs and waves his arms at Helen, who looks at him quizzically then resumes digging. He turns in circles, distraught beyond reason. His pink dressing gown flaps in the wind to reveal fine lace undergarments. His garden and attire mark him as a man who appreciates beautiful things.
“Okay okay, can we at least talk?” Jacky is quite frantic now. I believe it’s an overreaction given the culinary limitation of turnips. We move over to a garden bench and take a seat.
Helen continues to dig furiously. Something has her digging like a maniac. The hole is getting deep. All I can see is the tip of Helen’s tail. Jack Chisholm now seems beyond rational thought and just sits - hands over his face.
Helen emerges from the crater with a large bone in her smiling mouth. Jack lets out a low groan. Fingers walks over and looks at Helen’s treasure. He walks to the hole, bandicoots around a bit, and unearths a human skull.
“Oh-ho Jacky, who have we got here?”
Jack looks up with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s Ten Stone Malone. We got into a fight over money and I hit him with a garden spade.” He shrugs.
“And you left him here? Bloody hell Jacky, what were you thinking? You should have dropped him in the ocean.”
“I panicked, all right. Anyhow, he’s cursed me. I get offers to buy this place almost daily and I am stuck here because of bloody Ten Stone Malone, skinny bastard. A bit of earthwork would turn him up in a second.”
“So that’s what happened to Ten Stone. I thought he must have gone on the run. But, oh dear, here he is. You have a problem, Jacky. You could just bury him again but as you said, then you’re stuck here. Surely you could dig him up and burn him.
“It doesn’t seem right. I’m kinda used to him now.”
Fingers sighs like he can’t believe the folly of humankind. Helen drops what is I believe is a human femur and resumes digging but I signal her over and clip on her lead. She drops the femur on my foot. It is quite heavy. Wincing, I scratch her haunch. Her back leg twitches with delight.
“Okay Jacky, we can move Ten Stone for you and put him somewhere nice - a nice place out in the bush somewhere. You could sell this place then. Worth a pretty penny I would think.”
Jack chuckles, “A pretty penny plus some, Fingers. You would do that?”
“We’ll take him with us now if you want. Do you have a garden sieve? We move Ten Stone and you vote not to develop Seabreeze at the owner’s meeting.”
“Can’t do that Fingers, I need to sell the unit. It’s my retirement fund.”
“All right then sell the bloody thing to Lucky. So he threw you over the balcony? It's in the past Jacky, you gotta let it go.”
“Ah fuck it, you move Ten Stone for me and I’ll sell Lucky the unit – for market price though.”
“Jacky, you know we still have the Thailand house? Preeda’s still there. Her hubby died a few years back so she’s single again. What say we swap your unit for the Thailand house? Then you sell this place for a shitload of cash and live like a king with the lady you love.
“Will Monty do that?”
Fingers laughs, “Lucky’s cool with it. It was his idea. We don’t do much business in Thailand anymore and it costs every year to employ your lovely housekeeper. Do we have a deal, Jack?”
Tears well up again, “I would like that Fingers.”
“Done, by the way Jacky, I rang Preeda yesterday. She’s expecting you.”
“Monty, grab the shovel. Jack, get me the sieve and a bag. It’s time to disinter Ten Stone Malone.”
I dig and Finger sieves the dirt. It is slow but eventually, all of Ten Stone is safely in the bag. We go to the back door to let Jack know. He answers wearing a green silk ball dress and long white gloves. He’s a snappy dresser.
“We have all of him, Jacky. I will be back with the paperwork. Lucky sends his regards.” Jack Chisholm just nods.
Fingers smiles, grabs Helen and walks to the van. As I drive off he chuckles. “That was an interesting turn of events Monty.” He pats Helen on the neck. “She’s a good dog.”
We get back to Seabreeze and Fingers carries the sack of bones inside.
“What are you going to do with him, Fingers?”
“Take him out in the boat and dump him in the ocean. That’s what Jack should have done in the first place.”
“You have a boat?”
“We have a boat moored at the marina. I told you that.”
“That’s right Fingers, of course you did.”
I leave Fingers in the basement. I take Helen to the diner and give her some leftover sausages. She deserves them. Trotsky finds us just as we walk outside. He gives Helen a huge welcome and they prance about like puppies.
They both run off to steal some building tools.
11
Miss Jessica- Extortionist
I watch Jessica coming down the stairs. She is wearing a floral print dress, white-rimmed sunglasses, and yellow open-toe sandals with a heel. Her red lipstick and white handbag work wonderfully with the rest of her outfit. She looks stunning.
“Monty, did Lucky tell you I need a lift?”
I am everyone’s driver. It is difficult to get around with trucks everywhere and the pavement smashed. No one seems to own a car.
“He didn’t but it would be a pleasure, Jessica.” I go and grab the van. Jessica climbs in and directs me onto the freeway and, eventually, into an exclusive area with stunning river views.
“Let me off here Monty and thank you.”
She alights in front of a large property bounded by a tall limestone wall. The gates are ornate wrought iron. I am pretty sure she is paying Sarah Chan a visit and her handbag contains the mysterious photograph.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?”
Given the nature of her visit, I think I should wait for her. She assures me that I’m not required. I drive away and return the van to its usual parking space.
That was three days ago and no one has seen or heard from Jessica since. Lucky calls a meeting.
“Jessica left to put the screws on Sarah Chan three days ago and no one has seen her since. I think we can safely assume something has gone wrong.” Lucky is agitated.
Muscles pipes up, “Me and Fingers could go and check it out. Maybe do a smash and grab rescue?”
“Can’t go smashing into an M.P.’s house Muscles. Johnny Hoppers would be all over us. We need some info. Monty, ring Enrico. We’ll get a drone over the house and check it out.”
I ring Enrico and he arrives an hour later.
“Thanks for coming so soon, Enrico.”
“For you, anything Monty. You need some spy work. Give me the address and the girls will be there before you can piss in a pudding bowl.”
I give him Sarah Chan’s home address. He raises an eyebrow. “Nice neighbourhood
. We must be stealthy.”
He rings Sonia and Mary and gives them instructions. We move to the diner. Enrico sits at the counter and opens his laptop.
The screen comes alive. Mary is in her old Volkswagen Kombi, parked close to the house. She controls the camera and live-feed.
Sonia is hidden in bushes near the house. She controls the drone. We contact each other through the live feed audio.
Mary gives a thumbs up and the drone feed starts. Sonia pushes the drone as close as she can, keeping a safe distance. The image is detailed due to the quality of the built-in camera. It becomes crystal clear as Mary adjusts the focus. We are looking at a large rambling house set in a huge sculpted garden. The drone starts in the front garden.
“Can we look at the gates, Sonia?” The drone moves left and the gates come into view. They are high, sturdy and a keypad is evident.
“Very secure,” mutters Fingers. The girls pan the camera over the front garden. It’s manicured lawn and low, topiary shrubs. “Nowhere to hide. Sonia, can I have a gander at the front door and windows?”
The drone hovers the length of the house. “High security everywhere. There will be a flaw in their system somewhere, there always is.”
“Can we see the roof please Sonia?” The drone moves upwards and hovers over the roof. The roof is slate and set at a high pitch.
“Too steep and no way in. Okay, Sonia move to the back of the house.”
The drone moves slowly over the back yard. It’s skirted by a row of London plane trees. Paths wind through a series of secluded garden nooks created by clever use of tall and medium shrubs. There’s a trellised walkway adorned with Wisteria. It’s a riot of purple. There’s a kidney-shaped swimming pool partially covered by a shade sail.
Fingers cheers up a bit, “That’s where we can get close to the house, over the back fence and through the garden. Plenty of cover there. Sonia, give me a peek over the back fence.”
The drone reveals a walkway leading down to the river. “That’s good access there. The fence has barbed wire but that’s easy. Sonia, I need to find an access point on the back of the house. Can we get a look?” The drone moves back over the fence and towards the house. It travels over the pool and shade sail.
Lucky chips in, “I think there are people under that sail. Can we see them without them knowing?”
The drone backs away to the far end of the grounds and hovers low. The image blurs and slowly focuses as Mary alters the settings. The image clarifies and reveals two topless women lying in the shallow end of the pool, arms entwined - Jessica and Sarah Chan.
“Well, that solves that mystery.” Lucky frowns. “She is a loose cannon that girl. I think we can assume she’s a willing captive, if a captive at all. Sorry to waste everyone’s time.”
Fingers chuckles. “I would have paid to see it Lucky.”
I laugh, “loose cannon” is the last thing I would have called Miss Jessica. I have to stop making assumptions about people.
Jessica arrives back that evening, hand in hand with Sarah Chan. Both are glowing. Lucky greets her as she enters. “Lucky! This is Sarah. I took the photo but our eyes met and we fell into each other's arms.”
Sarah shakes Lucky’s hand; “I let Jess go to pursue my career. That’s been my life regret. This is my second chance.”
She turns to Jessica, “I missed you every day Jess. I am sorry for the time we lost.”
Jessica just smiles with shining eyes. Sarah looks contemplative. “I may retire before the scandal breaks, or I might hold on, just to stick it to a few people. I don’t know yet. It’ll be fun either way.”
I like this woman.
“Sarah’s dying to meet the new Australian Contemporary Art Award winner. Where is Andy? Out back with Celia? Come on Sarah, we’ll go find her.”
They skip outside, hand in hand, like two teenagers in love. I zip out ahead of them, as I know Trotsky and Helen will cause a ruckus. Trotsky and Helen bound up. I am surprised. They sit in front of Sarah and gaze adoringly. I suspect they plan something. Sarah gives each a scratch behind the ears and they bound off.
We find Andy putting the finishing touches on a giant scarecrow built around an iron framework. It holds a large pitchfork aloft.
She looks up, “Where the fuck have you been Jessica? I need you to sew a hat for Matthew.” She has given the scarecrow a name.
Jessica is cool under attack. “Andrea do I need to kick your arse again? This is Sarah. Can you spare the time to show her around?” Andy stops work begrudgingly.
“Matthew here will be set alight on the first night. The pitchfork is a symbol of grassroots defiance against further development.”
Andy shows Sarah the stage and other important parts of the whole. “There will be performance art, music, painting, installations, and I am going to break the world body paint record it’s 497 according to Guinness World Records. That was with splatter guns though, not brush. I have a team of painters ready. I am excited.”
She wanders past the doghouse and stops abruptly. She turns to me, “You said you’d fix this!”
I shrug. “Be cool Andrea, it’s under control.”
I Walk over to the nearby storage area and wrestle out the sample paint cannon Enrico made for me. He’s done a great job. The whole thing is aluminium. There is a chamber to hold the propellant and an ignition switch that looks like a trigger. It’s on a tripod so I can swivel it around.
Andy looks on with disdain. “What’s that monstrosity?”
“It’s a cannon. It shoots canisters of paint. I am going to paint the doghouse with it.
“Okay, now that is interesting. I look forward to that Monty, great idea.”
I am a bit shocked as this is the first positive thing Andy has said to me. Now more enthusiastic, I load a paint canister and prepare a demonstration.
Andy, Sarah, and Jessica walk over to Muscle’s strangely shaped pond. Sarah reads the mosaic writing. “Oh, how sweet.” Andy scowls at her.
“Excuse me, who is in charge here?” A portly man in a suit is shouting from the fence and waving a half-smoked corona. He struggles through a side gate and lurches towards us. He is agitated by something. He stops at the scarecrow and glares at it for a second. He scowls at his cigar with disgust, hurls it to the ground, and continues stomping towards us.
“I said, who’s in charge here?” We all look at Andrea.
“I am sick of your bloody dogs interfering with my contractors.”
Andy points at me. “Oh, the dogs are nothing to do with me - talk to him.” Nice one Andy.
I look him in the eye, “Name’s Monty, how can I help?”
“I don’t give a shit about your name son, just contain your dogs or I will have them dealt with.”
I look surprised, “Trotsky and Helen? They never leave the grounds.”
Before he can reply a cry of anguish drifts from next door. We look up to see Helen sprint into the yard with a voltmeter in her mouth. Mike the unfortunate electrician looks at us forlornly.
Cigar man splutters, “See what I mean. I’ve bloody had enough of this!”
Before he can say more, Andy lets out a scream of pure rage. “You bastard! You’ve ignited Matthew.”
We all look back and Matthew the scarecrow is ablaze, courtesy of a carelessly discarded corona. Andy is torn between trying to save Matthew and attacking Cigar Man. She chooses the latter. With a screech, she bounds towards him and executes a perfect rugby tackle. Cigar man goes down and with a furious Andrea on top of him.
Helen and Trotsky run up and leap over Andy and Cigar Man. Helen gently drops the voltmeter at Sarah’s feet.
“Oh, she has brought me a present. You’re a darling.” Sarah pats Helen gently.
I look quizzically at Jessica, who shrugs. “Animals love her.”
I look back to the fracas. Andy sits on Cigar man’s chest and slaps him a few times. She leaps up and kicks him three times in the ribs. I am a little sympathetic and tentatively poke at my rib
s. A few still ache from the kicking I got. She’s awesome.
Andy stops kicking and Mr Cigar struggles to his feet. He looks stressed.
Trotsky is sniffing around the paint cannon. He scratches against it and it topples. With agonising slowness, I watch the paint cannon ease over on its legs and fall to the ground. A few seconds go by. Just as I relax there is a strangely muted bang and a paint canister hits Cigars two inches below his double Windsor. He goes down like a tyre on stingers.
A mist of violet paint billows from Cigar Man and envelops us. We are temporarily blinded. Helen is the first to act. Bedecked in violet she disappears into the doghouse. Trotsky is close behind her. Cigar Man rolls from side to side and makes grunting noises.
The violet mist starts to clear. Half the building has come out to watch the debacle. All are in stitches. Mr Cigar stands before the laughing crowd. He tries to look unbothered and hobbles away.
Sarah Chan stands in her now violet outfit, laughing fit to burst. She turns to Jessica. “Is it always like this Jess?”
“It didn’t used to be. We think it has something to do with Monty. He evokes chaos.
Andy looks over at the burning Matthew. I throw my arm over her shoulder. “We will all bog in and rebuild him tomorrow.” She smiles, runs over to the fiery man and starts to dance. People run over to join her. Lucky produces a djembe from somewhere and drums out a beat. A party begins.
Laughing I wander off to grab the portable barbecue because that’s what private secretaries do.
12
The New Woodstock
“Hippies are squatting in my building!” Cigars is back as red-faced as ever. He keeps his eyes off the partly rebuilt Matthew. I sense he feels a twinge of guilt.
Lucky stops work and looks up, “Bullshit, there’s been no hippies since 1969. They’re just try-hards.”
“Well, a group of try-hards are camped in my building!”
“How is this our problem?”
“They say they are waiting for the new Woodstock.”