The Spotted Dog

by Kerry Greenwood

  She smiled tolerantly. ‘I think that must have been the reaction of the Philistines when Samson dropped in on them.’

  ‘If Ma’ani is that strong with his number-one haircut, imagine if he grew his hair long.’

  ‘I think he’s quite strong enough as it is. But the poor lost creature! He looked far gone. I shall pray for him.’ Sister Mary lifted her determined chin.

  ‘And so will I,’ Jordan intoned. He met my eyes, blinked, then wandered back into the kitchen area to make more sandwiches.

  And that was that, for the time being. The rest of the Soup Run was uneventful. Ma’ani returned after an hour or so, with the news that the offender was safely under lock and key in the watch house. The van chugged around the city blocks, aid and comfort was duly administered, and nobody tried anything on with Alasdair. He was quietly omnipresent: patrolling the perimeter and occasionally asking questions of a few of our clients. I served soup, collected sandwiches from Jordan without comment, and watched the sky fade to black above the glaring lights of central Melbourne. By midnight I was done, and Alasdair walked me back to Calico Alley. Twice I noticed people move towards me, but they caught Alasdair’s eye and melted away into the shadows again. I wasn’t worried. The city can get rough later on; but, as a rule, before midnight nobody is drunk enough to do anything spectacularly stupid.

  ‘Did you find out anything?’ I enquired, with a sidelong look at his pale features.

  He shook his head. ‘Ah’m no’ certain. But I did have one strange encounter. One of the blokes I spoke to was better educated than most. He gave me a look and asked me if I had a smoke. I said I didn’t, but the lawyer offered him two. He put one away in his shirt pocket, lit the other one, and looked straight at me. “You’re the bloke who’s looking for a dog, right?” I said I was. ‘You want to look sharp, Mister. ’Cos I hear the Petrosians are looking for you.”’ Alasdair blinked, and ran his hands down his shirt. He was so tense I almost expected to hear his muscles creaking. ‘He wouldn’t say more. I’ve no idea what that means.’

  ‘Are you sure about the name?’

  ‘I think so. Maybe Daniel has heard of them.’

  I hoped so. It might be another lead. Or another red herring, of which I probably had enough for a medium-sized sushi bar by now. I kept Alasdair talking as long as I could. I didn’t want to touch on the war, but I asked him if he’d met anyone like Ma’ani before. He laughed, for the first time since I had known him.

  ‘Aye, we met some of his folk over there.’ He flicked his head vaguely northwards. ‘They’re totally fearless. The locals are terrified of them. They think they’re cannibals. I think the Maori love that.’

  ‘It would certainly be helpful.’

  ‘I mind once they did a haka fae the locals. About twelve or fifteen o’ them, under the desert sun. It was terrifying, wi’ they tattoos and the glaring eyes and pokin’ tongues. So then we had a bit of a ceilidh with the pipes, and that scared them even more. Our village was extremely quiet after that.’

  I stole a careful look at my companion, and crossed my fingers. We had to find his dog.

  When we arrived at the door to Insula, Alasdair took his leave. ‘Daniel’s given me a key to his place. I won’t disturb you.’

  I watched him walk away smartly into the night and my heart leapt down. I was no closer to finding his dog, and he had all but given up hope. It was also probable that he had not wanted to intrude on Daniel and me, which was thoughtful of him. Not that I was in the mood for passion now. But a calming embrace from my beloved would be very welcome.

  I met no one in the vestibule or the lift. Most of Insula’s denizens had long since gone to bed, and those who hadn’t wouldn’t be expected back for some time yet. As always on Saturday nights I uttered a small prayer for the safety of Kylie and Gossamer. They loved their Saturday nights and would not return home to their possibly virtuous beds until the small hours. I hoped they were out with the actors. They would presumably look after my girls and return them with their virtue, such as it was, unscathed. And Jason would be ensconced in his bedroom doing Jason things, like watching old movies or reading. Reading! I was still getting my head around this. I would have expected that he would disdain such things; but he said no, because he’d never learnt to read at school and this was getting back a little more of the childhood he had never had. I have heard it’s never too late for a happy childhood. I was more than a little awed to think that I was providing the means for him to have it.

  I let myself into my apartment. All the lights were off, and I turned on the living room one with its dimmer function on. I could not hear any sound beyond the soft thrum of my bedroom air conditioner, but Daniel was almost certainly asleep in my bed. Horatio padded across the carpet and rubbed his cheek against mine. I fed him some munchies and he curled his tail neatly around his paws and addressed himself to his bowl. Soft crunching noises filled the silence. I heard stealthy movements beyond the bedroom door. My pulse roared into overdrive. I wanted his strong arms around me, and his hard, muscular body pressed close to me. The door opened, and he emerged, looking adorable and dressed in a blue bathrobe. He would not be wearing anything underneath it. I had not been thinking of anything other than hugs tonight, but I was prepared to change my plans. He reached over, picked me up in his strong arms and carried me into the bedroom. His mouth closed on mine, and my limbs dissolved into liquid fire.

  Philomela: Upon the house of them that have afflicted me, may doom cast its awful shadow. I wish upon them the boils of Job, the leprosy of Namaan, and the nine plagues of Egypt. May they be consumed in fire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  … a word and a blow.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO AND JULIET, ACT 3, SCENE 1

  Sunday morning! I stretched out my toes in slow, sensuous luxury and nestled against Daniel’s strong, lean muscular back. He was fast asleep, as well he might be. Normally I would now subside gratefully into the arms of slumber. But I didn’t, because for no good reason I could think of, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing out like porcupine quills.

  Apparently I wasn’t alone in thinking something was amiss. There was a small disturbance beside the bed, then a scuttling of paws, and a familiar furry shape burrowed straight under the doona and hid down by my feet. I lay there in complete silence, thinking hard. Horatio sometimes did this, sure. He was frightened by thunderstorms, and would generally go to ground next to my feet when they paid us a state visit. He had also been known to seek refuge from cold in the depths of winter. But it was summer, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky so far as I knew. What the hell was going on here?

  My skin crawled. Just on the very edge of hearing, furtive noises of formation stealth were performing a small toccata and fugue up and down my spine. The bedroom door was ajar. (Horatio must have opened it. He had learnt that by standing up on his hind paws and flicking the door handle with his front paw – it was a bar rather than a ball – he could rectify my inexplicable omission in locking him out.) And intermittent flashes of muted light seemed to be happening in my living room.

  I lay quietly, alert and patient. Because I wasn’t frightened anymore. I was furiously, murderously angry. Whoever this was would pay for it. Little by little, I felt the hot blaze of a righteous wrath flood through my body. No need to hurry this. Meanwhile, my mind was racing, but taking the corners calmly and expertly. Just outside the bedroom door was a light switch. And beneath it, I recalled, there was a skillet standing on the carpet. It was an old skillet, and I had decided to retire it, with grateful thanks for many a fine feat of bakery. I now resolved to rescind this order.

  Far down by my ankles, Horatio began to purr. Whether this was a purr of fear or a semi-mute vote of confidence I didn’t care.

  As I grasped the edge of the doona, I realised that I was naked. Under the delightful circumstances of the previous evening, this was not surprising. Could I be bothered getting dressed for the benefit of my unwelcome guest? Nope. I remembe
red my friend Jane the criminal lawyer telling me that by statute and common law, you had to take your victim as you find him. My guest would have to put up with me as I was. I threw back the doona and jumped to my feet. Despite being large, I possess fast reflexes and the ability to move in utter silence. I slipped to the door, took three small, tight breaths, then leapt into action.

  The results were gratifying in the extreme. My dancing feet propelled me past the light switch, which I flicked on. I executed a pas d’une in seizing the skillet, and with an impressive grand jeté across the floor I swung my weapon up and down onto the repellent, ninja-hooded creature rummaging through my bookshelves. I got him right on the top of his insectoid skull, and he collapsed with an agonised groan and dropped his torch. What did I have to secure burglars with? There was a packet of black cable ties in the bathroom: a relic of some DIY plumbing I had attempted. These would be perfect. I tore the packet open and bound his hands and feet together, his dark eyes gazing at me with unspeakable horror all the while.

  When (and only when) I judged my victim to be rendered harmless and recumbent, I gave vent to my feelings and expressed myself accordingly. ‘This is my house, not yours, you micro-cephalic moron! I am not running a hotel, or a guesthouse, or a drop-in centre for the terminally bewildered! Whatever it is you’re looking for, I haven’t got it. What do I have to do to convince you that you’re wasting your time? And who the hell do you think you are, anyway? Toshiro Mifune?’ I leant over him and ripped away the ninja face covering.

  I felt a furry presence next to my calf, and there was Horatio standing next to me, with his fur standing on end. Like me, he was glaring at the intruder in furious affront. Who, he wanted to know, is this creature, and what is it doing in my house? He flicked his tail angrily and hissed. A distressing ammoniac scent, as of incontinent tomcats, began to waft towards me. From my carpet, and the lower sections of my trussed-up burglar. Oh, good.

  I looked at the misbegotten burglar before me, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. The face I had revealed told me nothing except indescribable terror. Now perhaps we might get some answers. Just then, an adored voice spoke behind me. I turned to see Daniel, dressed only in a white towel. His dark eyes raked the room and his mouth twisted in a smile.

  ‘You seem to have coped, ketschele. How very clever of you.’

  With barely a backward look, I seized Daniel and kissed his mouth. Partly, I had to admit to myself, to ram home to our burglar the idea that I was the most fearsome apparition he had ever encountered. It wasn’t loathing or disgust I had noted on our little friend’s face. The impression I got was that he had been confronted with the Venus of Willendorf. I had a sudden, momentary vision of his shivering, cave-dwelling ancestors confronted by a buxom, curvaceous naked goddess, holding the promise of warmth and fertility in a freezing, cheerless world. I am Woman! I exulted inwardly. Look upon my arms, breasts, thighs and belly. I am strong and beautiful! In a flash I seemed to divine that this gibbering creature was possessed of a primeval terror of Woman. I was going to play up to it for all it was worth.

  At the same time, I was aware of my impressive twin black eyes, now of a hue resembling European smallgoods. I have no doubt this added to his general Shock and Awe. And now, for the first time in this maddening case, we might have a chance to get some information. But if the man on the carpet really did belong to a crime gang, then we needed to be even scarier than his godfathers to get him to talk. My choice of attire for the citizen’s arrest was looking better and better by the moment. Because he was taking it all in. As Daniel waltzed me around in a half-circle I peered over his bare shoulder and looked steadily at our captive.

  With the face mask removed, he looked a suddenly pitiable figure. His skin had formerly been golden biscuit-coloured. Now he had acquired a veneer of dirty ecru. His eyes looked as though he had plugged himself into the national grid and received fifty thousand volts to his spinal column. The aroma from my carpet was mutating into a full-sized miasma. But there was something else. My memory was tapping me insistently on the shoulder. Had I seen him before? I wondered. Somehow I was convinced I had indeed met this sorry specimen, some other place and time. Where and when? I couldn’t track it down. I’d have to wait for inspiration to strike.

  My beloved Daniel was playing his part tremendously. Yes, we would at some point have to call the police and let them take him away. But I thought Letty White would forgive me for not calling her at this hour. And we might never get this opportunity again. I relapsed into Daniel’s embrace for another round of passionate kisses.

  Our eyes met, and we reached a silent decision. He would be the Good Cop, and I would go and put on a nightgown. I thought my point – that I was Woman Incarnate and could reduce him to bowel-knotting terror any time I felt like it – had been well and truly made by now, and Daniel might get more out of him if I took my time. I chose a light, translucent cotton gown – ideal for hinting that there was always more Extremely Bad Cop available if we wanted it – and I walked into the kitchen to make some coffee. On a whim, I called to my beloved, ‘Ask him if he wants any coffee.’

  Daniel cast a glance at the prisoner, who nodded.

  ‘All right. He’s getting it black.’ I inhaled the delicious scent of Arabica beans – so much nicer than the distressing odour of essence du burglar which had now permeated my entire apartment – and took my time. They were still talking softly. I have heard that once these villains crack, they go all the way and spill every bean they have and then some. When I had poured out three mugs of coffee, Daniel came to join me.

  ‘Well done!’ he whispered into my ear. ‘But our little friend is so terrified that I think he’ll clam up on us if you come near him again. I’ll manage to get some coffee into him.’

  ‘As long as you don’t loosen his cable ties.’

  ‘I won’t. I notice you haven’t asked about his head wound?’ He grinned.

  ‘No, because I don’t care about his head wound,’ I hissed, louder than necessary. I wanted him to overhear me. ‘Since, thanks to his unreliable bladder, I’m going to be steam-cleaning this carpet anyway, it is a matter of complete indifference to me if he bleeds to death all over my carpet.’

  Daniel held me tight, and kissed me again. ‘Excellent!’ he breathed into my ear. ‘He won’t, by the way. He’s stopped bleeding now and it doesn’t look too bad. I’ll take it from here.’

  And with that I went back to my bedroom with my coffee. Horatio accompanied me, after a small browse at his munchies bowl. I sipped my coffee and smoothed down my affronted cat.

  He permitted me to caress his fur, with many an angry lick and a stretching of paws, and gazed into my eyes with silent reproach. What are you going to do about these constant intrusions? he wanted to know. When, he continued, is Normal Service going to be resumed? Having registered his formal protest, he extended his chin and permitted me to stroke his cheeks and under his chin. After quite a deal of this, he subsided into relaxation and went back to sleep. I looked up to see Daniel entering my room. He was still in his towel, I noted. Perhaps I had instituted a new horizon in interrogation techniques.

  ‘So?’

  ‘I think I have everything we need. I’ll tell you later. I think it’s time to call the police now.’

  ‘Just one more thing.’ I returned to the kitchen and picked up my biggest kitchen knife. Standing behind the benchtop, I waved it at our captive and smiled my most beatific smile. ‘Hey there!’ I called.

  He was sitting up now, still with his hands and feet bound.

  ‘If we don’t get the dog back safe and sound, I will come looking for you, wherever you happen to be. Please don’t imagine that I’m joking.’

  His grimy pallor faded still further to the colour of old tile grouting.

  I nodded. ‘Okay, Daniel, summon the police.’

  Our captive muttered something in a foreign language. Then he looked beseechingly at Daniel. ‘Protective custard?’ he implored. ‘You promise!’


  Daniel knelt down next to him. ‘Yes, I know. But I’m not the police, Narek. I believe they will look after you. They are very interested in you, and they will keep you safe – as long as you continue to cooperate. If you’re really good, you might even get a new identity and a fresh start in Queensland. That’s if you’re telling me the truth, of course, and that the car-ramming incident that left one girl dead and another one crippled really wasn’t down to you. If it turns out it was you and your friends, then you’re in more trouble than the early settlers. But that’s up to the police. If you tell them everything you’ve told me, I think you’ll be fine. They won’t let Uncle Tigran anywhere near you. Now just sit tight and we’ll call a divvy van.’

  We did so, since I wanted to allow Letty White her sleep, but she came anyway, accompanied by Constable Helen and two taciturn, economy-sized cops who did not say a single word. Nor did they smile. They merely nodded, and left the floor to DSC White while they led our little friend Narek away into what I really hoped would be protective custard. Preferably with stewed fruit. Even though he had broken into my home twice now, I no longer felt much animosity towards him. Unless it had been he who had killed Philomela’s sister. But I didn’t think so. Narek had been wetting himself with fear. I pictured him as small fry: probably only useful for burgling houses and odd jobs. The most he owed me was the cost of a steam-clean. Daniel and I sat in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. Helen Black sat down in one of my kitchen chairs, and immediately Horatio sauntered out from the bedroom, considered her for a moment, then launched himself lightly into her lap. She looked pleased, and began to caress his cheeks and rub her hands all over my kitty’s head.