by Ann Black
Bob shakes his head. “No. That’s it for now. I’ve got your number if I need anything else. Probably better for you to go home, but remember what we talked about, eh?” he adds.
I feel a bit sick thinking about the earlier conversation between Bob and Phyllis. Phyllis stands and pushes her chair back under the table. “Certainly...I’ll go and stay with my brother. He has two large dogs and I’ll feel much safer than I would at home alone,” she explains.
Bob and I both make relieved sounds while she gathers her handbag and unopened lunch box out of the fridge. I stand and walk her to the door. “Thanks Phyllis. Remember you’re not to blame for any of this. Someone like Kyle preys on the goodwill of others...you’ve done nothing wrong,” I add with emphasis.
Phyllis offers a brave smile, “Thanks John. It just feels awful to think that someone like Kyle has used me as part of his plan. You know?”
I nod. “I know. He’s a human parasite, but we’ll get him back behind bars.” I open the door to let her out, “take care of yourself and try to take advantage of the time away from here to be a normal person again, okay?” I say.
She turns toward me, “No problem, John. A bit of a break and time with family and friends will put me right again...I know it will. But you take care of yourself,” she says.
I lock up behind her and walk back to the kitchen. Bob has started gathering his paperwork. “He’s breached his parole conditions, and according to Khia’s movements, there should be CCTV footage we can collect that puts him at the scene of her attack,” Bob says. “As for the prescription theft and dealing, if we can get him with that as well it’ll be the icing on the cake. But he’s most likely sold them on the Black Market, I doubt he’s been dumb enough to get them filled himself, ” he finishes.
“What about forensics?” I ask, thinking about Khia’s rape.
Bob shakes his head, “Unless he wants us to find something, I doubt we will. According to Khia, Kyle was her dealer in the beginning, so a good lawyer could make a convincing argument for a consensual relationship gone sour. Let’s face it, Khia doesn’t have a great record and the facts could be made to look like she’s blaming him for something he didn’t do in an act of vengeance,” Bob finishes.
“That’s what I thought,” I answer, emptying the milk from the fridge, I rinse the carton and bin it. I suspect it will be a few weeks before Phyllis and I are back in here and I don’t want it to sour in the fridge. “I can’t just sit at home. I’ll go mad.” I turn to face Bob, knowing what I want to say, but feeling strangely nervous about verbalising my plan.
Bob seems to sense the change in my emotions. He becomes very still and gives me his full attention. As much as I hate it when he fucks around, being under the full glare of his animal instincts leaves me feeling exposed. I press on, “We know he’s coming for me. When he hacked into my case notes and letters in his file, he knew I was setting him up to go back to prison. I’ll be fucked if I sit around and wait for him to attack me on his terms,” I pause to let Bob process what I’m implying.
“Keep talking,” he says.
“I did a good job of putting him under pressure...too good. He realised he couldn’t win against me when he read the last few weeks of my notes. He realised it didn’t matter what shit he told me, I was writing him up as being a high risk re-offender—he’d lost control of the game.” I lean back against the sink and hold Bob’s gaze, “I say if he’s coming, why don’t we set up some scenarios where we can be in control.”
Bob sits down at the table again and leans back in his chair. He’s quiet for a while, “You’re the bait,” he says quietly.
I nod and sit opposite him at the table, “I can think of a dozen ways to get him isolated. If your guys are ready, we can end this shit with him,” I finish.
“Gotta say, Doc, I don’t see a better way. The prick won’t be found unless he wants to be. By now, he’s managed to make a small fortune in drug money and a few good underworld connections to boot,” Bob puts his elbows on the table and rests his chin on the apex of his clasped hands, “You realise he might not have to kill you himself? If he’s built a relationship with some of the other scumbags in this town, there could be a hit out on you.”
Anxiety seeps through my body. I hadn’t thought of that. By fuck, Bob was right. In my naiveté I had assumed Kyle would want to get me himself. But like a good chess master, he was probably moves ahead of me already. The prescriptions assured him money...and powerful contacts.
“So be it, Bob. I still can’t see another way.”
“Alright, Doc, I’ll get back to the station and have a chat to the boss. We’ll need to get approval, but I don’t think the brass will be a problem. Not once I mention what the media might do with this one,” he says smiling like a Cheshire cat.
Bob stays while I secure the windows, plug the security code into the system and lock the front door. As I get behind the wheel of my car I take one last look at my practice. Despite my instincts and training, I made the mistake of underestimating Kyle. If I were a betting man, I’d say I’m about to die. But at least if he’s focused on me, my patients will be safe.
Week Six
Monday 28th August, 2:00am
I wake up in a tangle of sheets and remember dreaming of Bob being murdered by Kyle, but I couldn’t run fast enough to save him.
I blink up at the ceiling and feel my pulse begin to settle. My ears strain to hear the sounds in my house, searching for anything out of place. I hear a distinct thudding noise. I slow my breathing and keep listening, and this time I hear a rattling sound coming from downstairs.
I reach across the bed for my baseball bat and slide out of bed. I’m naked and feel the chill of late winter the minute I walk into the unheated hall—the latest of my ever-increasing cost-saving measures.
Scanning the familiar dark shapes that comprise my living room furniture I see everything’s in order. Straining my ears again, I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary. I squint to see out onto the deck. The curtains are drawn. I can’t see any shadows beyond them, so I sneak across my heavy Persian rug and lean against the wall. Carefully pulling back the edge of the curtain I survey the greyed deck. The streetlights afford me a good view...of nothing.
Breathing a sigh of relief I switch on the reading lamp and collapse onto my favourite leather armchair. I’m getting more and more paranoid as the days go on. I’m contemplating watching some football when I hear the squeal of tires outside. I have just enough time to sit forward before a volley of gunshots ping and thud into my house.
Throwing myself flat on the floor I lay with my head down as I listen to the car speed away. Soon after, I hear another car speeding off with sirens screaming. I lay flat for a few long moments before getting up. I put my hand on my phone just as it rings.
“Bob.” I’m surprised by the sound of my own voice. It seems distant and I realise I must be in shock.
“You alright Doc?”
“Yeah.”
“Just sit tight. I’m coming over. The boys are after the vehicle now,” he says before hanging up.
Realising I’m naked I pull on some jeans and a jumper and pour myself a Jack Daniels.
7:00 am
Bob sits opposite me on my black leather couch, “You ready for this, Doc?” he asks.
“Of course.”
The media had started to set up at the end of the street, the boys in uniform had taped around my front yard to establish a crime scene. Bob was nervous, but he wasn’t talking much.
I’m tired. Tired of swinging between fear and anger, tired of being stuck inside all day, tired of going without sex and really fucking tired of being in my own head 24/7.
I want this to be over. I’m so fucking done with this shit that I’m almost crazy enough to hunt the prick down and shoot him myself.
“Any luck apprehending the shooter?” I ask.
Bob shakes his head, “Nope. Hard to believe how these pricks get away. Apparently our boys got caught behi
nd a garbage truck, by the time they got around it the vehicle was out of site. They didn’t get the rego. No doubt it’s been garaged and re-sprayed by now.”
Bob pulls a leather-bound book from his brief case. He hands it me, “Monica kept a diary. Her mother found it while she was cleaning out her flat. I think you’ll find June onward makes for interesting reading,” he says.
“You want me to read this now?” I ask.
“Yep. It’s evidence and with the way things are at the Station, I’m keeping a tight reign on every scrap we have,” Bob explains.
I scan the ruled pages and see Monica had dated each page. Her writing was neat and precise. I find June 3rd and begin to read.
Monica’s thoughts are deep and it’s clear she’s riddled with guilt and neuroses. She was a perfectionist full of self-doubt and criticism ... a worrying combination given her daily debate about whether or not life was worth living.
Kyle made contact with her in late June, soon after his release. He borrowed money and wanted to score some drugs. He was obviously thinking about making contacts in the criminal world. Monica was a means to an end.
She tried to separate herself but he managed to manipulate her into believing his rage was uncontrollable and that if she didn’t help him, someone would get hurt. He convinced her to meet me and to use our meetings to find out more information about me.
Monica writes about her guilt and feelings of entrapment. She also wrote about loving me and fantasised a great deal about our future. She didn’t give Kyle what he wanted, and in late July, he raped the 17 year old near his new address. He told her it was her fault.
When I ended our relationship, she told Kyle. At their meeting on the day of her death he told her that he planned to rape and murder a twelve-year-old...and that it was her punishment for displeasing him.
I snap the diary shut.
“When can we move on the operation?” I ask coldly, handing the diary back to Bob.
“If your still up for it, it’d be good if we could go today. Too big a pain in the ass to deal with the man hours and funds and all that shit if we have to change it,” he answers.
I nod. “I want this over. Hopefully Kyle will start to do his own dirty work,” I say.
“Our Undercover Ops say the big boys aren’t willing to give him anymore of their resources. He’s not a good supplier anymore and the drive-by was more of a warning than a serious attempt. If he had real power the hit would’ve been better targeted and a lot more fucking dangerous than firing into a house when everyone’s probably in fuckin’ bed.” Bob shakes his head and sits back, “Word is, Kyle is on the outer and I’m willing to bet he’s very pissed. If he wants you dead he’s gonna have to do it himself, no other bastard seems to want to.”
“Good.”
3:00pm
I finally pull onto the Highway and begin my journey North to Kinglake National Park. I feel anticipation spreading through my body as I run over the operational logistics we’d covered before my departure. I visualise where I’m supposed to set up camp for the next few days.
According to undercover operations, Kyle received ‘leaked’ news of my relocation. And the media interest was bound to work in our favour, especially since my car was filmed pulling out of the driveway.
Not for the first time I wish I had a gun, but I know I’ll have to make do with my best camping knife. Checking my mirrors, I can see plenty of traffic but I can’t tell whether any have been following me.
The decision to go bush was aimed at making me seem isolated and especially vulnerable. Hopefully, Kyle will take the bait.
5:30pm
The air smells clean and I take a moment to enjoy the sound of the birds and the distant tinkling of water. I finish hammering the last peg into the ground and tighten my tent fly.
Bob and his team couldn’t have chosen a better location for the operation. I’m far enough into the bush to be isolated from other campers, yet the team can observe my site from the height of nearby crevices and rocky outcrops covered in greenery.
My phone rings and I notice its Bob. “Hey, Doc, enjoying the view?” he asks.
“It’s not bad, Bob. Has anyone spotted Kyle?” I ask.
“Not yet,” he answers, “But we don’t expect this to go down like that anyway,” he adds.
“I know, but I can’t help wondering.”
“Just sit tight, Doc. We got a shit load of man hours built into this thing. The brass will do anything to keep the media from knowing the full extent of this...even spending some doe,” he says sarcastically.
I don’t blame Bob for being annoyed with his management. He’s tried to get resources behind Kyle’s investigation in the past...and according to him, if he’d had the support Kyle’s murder charge would have stood up, a fact that the media are bound to jump on if Kyle isn’t stopped soon—and I’m sure Bob’s managed to exploit that during his negotiations about this operation.
“I’m going to make some dinner and settle down for the night,” I tell him.
“Sounds good. Don’t worry, the place is crawling with our boys...and a couple of our girls.” He’s trying to reassure me but I suspect he’s under a lot of pressure and needs reassuring himself.
“I’m fine Bob, I just need some sleep.” It was true, the rough night and hours of high emotions had finally caught up with me. “Night, Bob,” I finish before hanging up and putting my phone in my jeans pocket.
Wednesday, August 31st 2:50pm
Walking down to the creek I gather the shower bag I left heating on the rocks. Over the past two days, I’d formed a routine and I’d learned to have my shower before the scant warmth of the day gave way to the cold evening.
Scanning the rocks on the other side of the river, there’s still no sign of Kyle. My eyes track the escarpment— I can make out a couple of heads, but only because I’m looking for them. The Police operation had been tightly organised, but I wonder how much longer they’ll support the plan. I try not to contemplate the idea that Kyle might not be drawn out.
I shower and start to prepare my dinner. Opening the esky, I see that my plastic food containers are beginning to float in melted ice. I take my phone out to ring Bob. “What’s up, Doc?” Bugs Bunny has made a comeback.
“Bob. I’ll need to go into town tomorrow and get some supplies. Do you want to join me, or can I go it alone?” I ask.
Bob pauses for a moment, “Better to go it alone, I’ll follow along with backup to keep an eye on you.”
“Any sign of Kyle?” I can’t help but ask.
“You won’t like it, Doc, but he’s been spotted back in Melbourne.” I could hear Bob talking to someone else before he continues, “But like I said, this will take time. He’s a cunning bastard and I think we need to give this plan at least a couple of weeks,” he finishes.
“I agree. Listen I’d rather head off in the morning, okay?” We arrange a time for me to drive past the picnic area located on my way out, where he will begin to follow me into town.
After the call, I enjoy the tranquility of preparing my meal with nothing but the sounds of the bush around me. There’s no fear anymore. I’m excited to finally get my chance with Kyle.
Thursday, September 1st, 9:30am
As I drive down the highway, I can see Bob and one of his colleagues I don’t recognise, driving behind me. At a distance, I see a cream coloured, older Kombi van pull out of the Park behind Bob, given the traffic conditions, it isn’t out of place and I doubt Kyle would follow in a car.
Dimly, I hope Kyle hasn’t become too distracted to notice where I am, or worse, decided to get out of the state until things cool off.
There’s a small town about 15 minutes down the road where I can stock up on a few camping essentials. It’s a popular place for campers to purchase their supplies, without having to travel too far.
Pulling into the crowded Supermarket car park I find a space in front of the local bakery. I decide to take care of my grocery shopping first, then buy som
e fresh sourdough. I noticed a Service Station on the outside of town and figure I should buy my ice from there on my way back to camp to cut down on melt time.
Scanning the cars around me, I see the Kombi drive past on the highway. Bob pulls into the car park, I wait for him to get out and see me before walking to the Supermarket for my groceries.
It doesn’t take long to locate what I need. At the checkout a plump middle-aged woman, wearing a name badge bearing the name “Pam”, serves me with a bright smile. “How are you today?” she says as she starts scanning my items. She’s not really expecting an answer.
“I’m well. Is there a public toilet around here somewhere?” I ask, piling plastic bags back into my trolley.
“The nicer ones are in the pub over there,” she points to a brick and tile pub at the entrance of the car park. “That’ll be $112.95 thanks.”
Handing her my credit card I wonder if I should let Bob know what I’m doing, when I spot him at a vending machine outside. I walk past him deliberately, “Just going to the pub for the facilities. Back in a minute.”
“Okay, you go ahead and I’ll keep an eye out.”
I buy my bread and stash my groceries. Bob’s looking at me near his car as I walk across to the pub.
My eyes adjust slowly as I enter the dimly lit front bar. The usual bar flies are onto their ten o’clock beer and an older man nods hello as I pass the poker machines, following the signs down a darker hall to the tiled toilets.
Having used the facilities, I squirt some of the pink detergent into my hands and give them a good scrub under the running water, when I hear someone enter the room behind me. My heart starts to hammer and glancing up into the mirror, I see a dark haired woman standing behind me. But she takes her sunglasses off and Kyle’s cold blue eyes connect with mine.