‘No, look forward to it. I think we need to have a little chat anyway,’ replied the Inspector.
Oops, what’s going on here? was the first thought of Sergeant Elliott. The boss has never wanted a “little chat” with anyone.
‘Have you read the Tele today, Noel?’
‘No, haven’t had a chance yet. Why, anything interesting?’
‘Hope not, but just maybe. Here, page three.’
Sergeant Elliott read the article and raised an enquiring eyebrow to the Inspector. ‘So?’
‘Maybe nothing. Just got a funny feeling,’ the inspector replied, a hint of apprehension on his face. ‘Anyway, I’ll drop down and see Sergeant Mathieson and get myself organised.’
Inspector Webster and Sergeant Mathieson got on pretty well, Sergeant Mathieson not ignorant of the position Inspector Webster had been placed while working for Chief Inspector Rose. ‘Hey, look Inspector, I know the Chief wants to move you off as soon as possible, but I know Detective Inspector Burroughs doesn’t go on leave for another month, and there is no need for a handover of existing investigations. Can I suggest you take a couple of weeks leave now just to settle yourself? In that way you can make the move without any degree of urgency. I can organize the administrative side so there’ll be no problems with getting it approved. Just come and see us after you get back from leave, that should be sometime around the end of September. Okay?’
‘Hey, what a wonderful idea, that would be great. I don’t know how you’ll get it done, but if you say you can, I'll leave it in your capable hands. And thanks,’ said a relieved Inspector Webster.
****
By the time Inspector Webster arrived home that night, he had made the decision he would not ask Georgie about The Woman’s death. He knew if Georgie had anything to say, she would eventually reveal what it was. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Georgie raised the subject only to confirm poor Dorothy, no longer “that stupid bitch”, had suffered a heart attack while taking in the washing.
‘Yes, her body was found by the meter man who had come to read the electricity. He’d been running a bit late fortunately, otherwise she could have been left outside all night, though I s’pose if he had been running on time she mightn’t be dead at all. Surprising, I never knew she had a dicky ticker.’ Simon faltered as he suddenly became aware of another side of Georgie’s personality as she displayed a somewhat indifferent attitude to the death of the poor lady who lived, had lived, next door.
‘How’s the book going, sweetie?’ enquired Simon as nonchalantly as he could.
‘Oh, real good. I came up with a wonderful way to murder my victim. You can read it if you want.’
‘No thanks, I’ll have a look later,’ replied Simon, the detective in him quietly telling him he really didn’t want to know how she did away with the victim. ‘Noel and Sue are coming over for a drink on Tuesday afternoon. Nothing special. We have a few things to talk about. You be here then?’
‘Of course. Where do you think I’d go on a Tuesday? No, that will be nice.’ The prospects of the afternoon being ‘nice’ wasn’t exactly how the Detective Inspector imagined the afternoon turning out, although he did think it may be different.
CHAPTER 7
Simon and Noel sat on the coloured canvas director’s chairs Simon had placed, together with a small table, on the back lawn. Georgie appeared from the bungalow’s back door with a bottle of moselle and two wine glasses, closely followed by Sue with a six pack of Tooheys and two stubby holders. As Sue sat down next to Noel, Simon couldn’t suppress the thought of how opposites attract. How could such a short, pugnacious looking bloke like Noel win a girl as good looking as Sue? Sue was a tall, blue eyed blond with shoulder length hair. She towered over Noel and gave the impression she could easily take him under her wing to protect him. Their marriage of six years had worked well, both devoted to each other and happy with their lot.
The small gathering was fortunate in that the forecast southerly change had stalled around Kiama, the weather at Collaroy showing the first signs of the approaching summer, the gentle nor’ westerly touched with more than a hint of warmth for the first time in months. Having dispensed with the idle chatter of weekend footy results, the political situation, including Australia’s involvement in Vietnam, and a rehash of the Shark Arm Murder some thirty five years earlier, but still unsolved, Simon thought it was time to get down to more pressing matters. The women had participated during the period of idle conversational chit chat, albeit minimally, both having used their women’s intuition to conclude something was in the air.
‘Before we go any further,’ said Simon, pausing while he carefully placed his third empty can of Tooheys to the growing pyramid of empty cans being constructed on the table, ‘there’s a few things both Noel and I wish to say. Well, at least I do.’
Simon reached for another tinny, pulled the ring pull cap and sat back into his chair. ‘Georgie, it seems the Force now considers me as being what they call a supernumerary. A supernumerary is…’
‘Simon, I know what a supernumerary is. You don’t have to explain.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ll continue then. I’m being shifted from Day Street to fill a temporary vacant position at Cronulla and yes, I know it will probably be quicker to live at Toorak and get a bus back. And yes, we all know who’s responsible for the dirking, but there’s little I can do. The Superintendent loves Chief Inspector Rose and he undoubtedly follows Rose’s recommendations. I don’t believe for one minute Day Street is above the CIB established strength, it’s just a ploy for Rose to be rid of me and I have a pretty good idea why. But irrespective of his reasons, he wins. I don’t deny I may not have cooperated with him as well as I may have been able, but he’s not the easiest bloke to get on with. Anyway, who knows?’ Simon said with resignation. ‘Maybe a change will work out for the better. I don’t know how much Noel has told and you, Sue, but maybe he has something to say.’
‘Yes’ said Noel. ‘I’m going back into uniform, fortunately still at Day Street. I’ll apply for a transfer to Manly CIB but I doubt such an application will receive a favorable response. Like Simon, all I can do is to try and make the best of things. Sorry Sue.’
‘Hell, what have you to be sorry for,’ replied Sue, as she leaned across and gently rubbed the back of Noel’s neck. I think you will be better off away from Rose. I'm just sorry that you and Simon won't be working together as you get on so well.’
Georgie frowned as she poured herself another wine. ‘As I said earlier, it stinks. Rose needs a kick up the bum from someone at superintendent level at least. Maybe you two should change sides and play him for the twit he is,’ she said, placing significant emphasis on the “should”. ‘Instead of Holmes and Watson, how about becoming Butch and Sundance? I bet you could drive Rosey nuts.’
‘Yes, Simon’s told me about robbing a bank. Good thought,’ said Noel with a smile. ‘I’m all for being a baddie for a while. If you get caught for anything these days, the worst you'll get is a slap on the wrist and told not to do it again.’
‘It’s not like in the USA where if the judge says ten years, you get ten years,’ added Georgie.
‘By the way, Georgie, you never did explain how you did away with your victim,’ said Simon as he pulled the top off another beer. ‘Will you hang for your little transgression?’
‘Well, it’s not really a way of murdering someone, just a way of increasing the chances of someone snuffing it. So you really can’t say it’s murder,’ she replied in an effort to decriminalise her method of murdering someone.
Simon decided not to beat around the bush and said, ‘Georgie, has this anything to do with the death of poor old Dorothy?’
‘No, not in the least,’ Georgie protested. ‘Maybe I'd better explain. As you know I was stuck with my book on trying to come up with a way to get rid of the victim without making it look like murder. Well, I gave up and decided to do a little gardening in the hope of inspiration. I went to the garage for my garde
ning tools and a rubbish bag and came across a spider; I think they call them huntsman. Anyway, it was a big black one, looked like it was on its last legs. Definitely not a funnel web, I know one of those when I see it. As I was placing the poor thing in a jar I wondered if…’ Simon placed a hand over his eyes and shook his head.
‘No, no no, you didn’t, please?’
Noel and Sue immediately looked at Simon with the same blank expression on their face. Georgie looked at Simon and knew straight away she didn't have to go on. He knew. He mightn't know the details, but he knew. ‘Go on, you may as well tell us the whole story,’ said Simon with a groan. ‘Just wait a tick; I think I'll need a few more beers.’ Simon soon returned with two six packs, giving one to Noel.
‘Hell, this must be some story,’ commented Noel as he took a tinny from the pack and placed the remainder into the Esky.
Georgie downed a full glass of wine in a couple of gulps and poured herself another. ‘Look, how was I to know stupid Dorothy would die. I didn’t know she had a heart problem and how was I to know she’d bring in the washing?’
‘You put the spider in the washing?’ Simon asked for no particular reason as he already knew the answer.
‘No. See, there you go jumping to conclusions again. Actually, I put the spider in the peg basket. Well, how was I to know it would stay there. And how was I to know she would see it, or feel it, or do whatever she did. Maybe the spider wasn’t there at all and she just had a heart attack. All I know is that Dorothy hated spiders, lots of people hate spiders but they don’t drop dead when they see one. Who knows what happened?’
Sue, Noel and Simon all stared at Georgie in a stunned silence. It was Sue who broke the tension. She threw her head back and roared with uncontrollable laughter. ‘Oh Georgie, how absolutely delightful.’
‘Well, bugger me,’ was all Noel could muster.
‘Christ, Sue, it’s not a laughing matter,’ said Simon trying to suppress his laughter while at the same time aiming a rebuke.
‘No, it’s absolutely appalling the poor lady’s dead. It just seems ironic that a purely harmless spider can be so lethal when it’s in the wrong hands. Of course, we will never know if it was in Dorothy’s hands,’ said Sue, her amusement now under control.
‘Well, you can’t blame me. I didn’t kill the old girl,’ Georgie protested.
‘I’ve probably seen more blatant homicidal maniacs running around, but this is up there with the best of them. If it ain’t murder, it’s as close as damn it is to swearing,’ quipped Noel, braking into a smile as he began to see Sue’s point of view. ‘You know, I think that’s worth another beer or two. Mind if we invite ourselves to dinner as I think this could be a long afternoon, and I’m driving?’
‘No, no problems at all. You won’t get anything too complicated, maybe fish fingers or something just as erotic,’ Georgie replied. Her fifth glass of wine was taking effect and, on the whole, she felt pretty happy, even if she couldn’t get her tongue around her words precisely as intended. Heavens, poor Georgie had just confessed, if not to murder, at least manslaughter and, even if it would be difficult to prove in court, Georgie felt she needed the few wines, purely for medicinal purposes to ease a guilty conscience.
‘Well, you’re right on one thing Georgie, you did find a way to kill off your victim without it looking like murder,’ Simon said. ‘But where does that leave us? I suppose all of us are now accessories to a felony, but stuffed if I know which particular felony, but a felony all the same. Irrespective of what she says, Georgie knew Dorothy had an aversion to arachnids and she used this knowledge to her advantage. She might not have known to what extent Dorothy would react, but she did know, or at least had a good idea, Dorothy would react in some way, even if she hadn’t planned on Dotty dropping dead. So Georgie did have intent, irrespective of the outcome. Noel, you went through College later than I did. What do you think?’
‘To be honest, Simon, I think we just changed sides,’ said Noel with a shake of the head and a shrug of the shoulders.
Sue looked at her husband, perplexed. ‘Changed sides? Hey, Noel, what’s with this “changed sides” business? You mean all this talk about becoming criminals isn’t just a joke?’
‘Come on, Sue, take it easy,’ replied Noel with a grin. ‘We’ve been playing on the goodies side for umpteen years and all we have to show for it is a dirk between the shoulder blades by the hierarchy. I for one believe it’s time to change sides, be one of the baddies for a change. You know, Batman and Robin, the goodies, the Penguin and the Joker the baddies. I’ve always thought it would be good experience career wise to see what life is like from the other side.’
‘Oh, shut up you two,’ said Simon, although even he was beginning to see the humor of the situation. Construction of the pyramid continued in a somewhat more jovial manner than earlier in the day.
****
The dinner that night turned out to consist of a Chinese takeaway delivered by a youth riding a Vespa motor scooter. Discussion around the dinner table was somewhat stilted, everyone waiting for someone else to raise the anticipated topic. Having already over imbibed on the alcohol, everyone was now content with coffee. It was Simon who finally broke the ice, it probably being the expectation of the others that, as the senior person present, he would be the person to take charge of the discussion.
‘Okay, the question is, do we change sides? At the moment both Noel and I have jobs with the police force, albeit with no apparent future in store, both of us probably headed for nothing better than traffic duty in some God forsaken place out the back of Woop-Woop. Irrespective of whatever the Force may have in store for us, our changing sides may not necessarily mean we have to chuck in our jobs, at least not right away. The way I see it, a move to the baddies may not be irrevocable, maybe just long enough for us to dirk the Chief Inspector.’
Noel sat back and examined the dregs of his coffee in the bottom of the cup. ‘Well, I know the more time I have to think about it, the less inclined I will be to change sides. I’m all for it, at the moment, but I somehow think the more I think about it the more I will probably adopt the sensible and responsible approach and do nothing.’
Sue rested her elbow on the table and supported her head with a clenched fist under her chin. She looked at Noel with a bewildered look. ‘Noel, my sweet, I don’t know if anyone else at this table understood all you just said, but it seems you’re hedging your bets and looking for a way out if you make a wrong decision.’
‘Hey, be nice, Sue. Don’t pick on him. Noel’s only trying to make a decision based on both the facts that he has and the facts he might have sometime in the future,’ said Simon in support of his colleague.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Let’s cut the Freudian crap and get to the point.’ Georgie was not really hostile but the tone of her voice and sharp words had a profound effect on the other three sitting at the table. ‘We have a question that warrants nothing more than a “yes” or a “no” answer, so get on with it. Who’s for changing sides and who’s not?’
‘Just one point before we vote,’ sounded Simon. ‘Georgie’s little revelation should have some impact on your decision. As far as I’m concerned, I changed sides when I became an accessory to either a murder or manslaughter. Needless to say, I think Georgie is probably one of the baddies already, considering the circumstances. So that’s two decisions. Noel, Sue, it’s your turn to decide.’
Sue raised her eyebrows, pushed her chair back from the table and folded her arms. ‘And if you’ve become an accessory to whatever, what makes you think Noel and I aren’t accessories just as much as you are? It’s not like we didn’t hear any less of Georgie’s little revelation than you did. Apart from that, whether Noel knows it or not, he’s been like a bear with a sore head, and been that way for months. He’s stuck in the mud and bored stiff, and that’s not meant to have any reflection on you, Simon.’
‘Thanks, but now you’ve mentioned it, I probably feel the same, to some extent at lea
st. Chief Rose is determined to kill both of us off with sheer boredom,’ replied Simon.
‘Hey, hang about. What about me?’ responded Noel indignantly. ‘Sue, I didn’t know I was like a bear with a sore head, and if I am, I’m sorry. In any case, it sounds like you’ve already made up my mind to change to the bad guys.’
Sue shrugged and crossed her long legs. Simon noted her posture was one of dignified command, a look of stern authority on her face. ‘Sorry, Noel, my love,’ she said, ‘but that’s the way it’s been for a while now. I’ll be happy with any decision you make, as long as you’re happy with it and it coincides with the decision I make for you. I just thought you’d like to know that I’m all for you being a bad guy for a change. You need a spark and something exciting in your life to get you going again, and I’m prepared for anything.’
Noel took a deep breath, his hands raised in a gesture of submission. ‘Okay, all right, already. I concede, I surrender. I’m happy to become Jack the Ripper or the Boston Strangler, or whatever. That about makes it complete, doesn’t it?’
CHAPTER 8
Simon and Georgie walked hand in hand along a windswept Collaroy Beach towards Narrabeen. Although late September, the southerly wind was cold, the accompanying heavy clouds smattering the coast with occasional gusty showers. A few surfboard riders were taking advantage of a small but consistent surf, the waves protected from the wind by the distant bulwark of Long Reef. For the first time in months Simon appeared relaxed, the leave Sergeant Mathieson had fortuitously arranged being a perfect tonic.
‘And have you and Noel decided on just what you’re going to do to become baddies?’ Georgie asked matter of factly. ‘I suppose the list of things you could do is endless, burglary, blackmail, extortion, robbery.’
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