Sharp Turn

by Marianne Delacourt

  ‘How’re you settling in?’ she asked us.

  ‘Fine. Other than the fact that some of the natives aren’t all that friendly,’ I said. ‘Or happy.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Just walked in on a big argument in the Moto-Sane stall.’

  ‘Don’t tell me!’ She slapped her hand to her forehead. ‘Lu and Clem going at it again? It’s been like that all season. Someone needs to bang their heads together.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ I asked.

  She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. ‘I think Clem’s hot for Lu’s girlfriend, and Lu knows it.’

  Cass gave soft derisive grunt, which thankfully Sharee didn’t hear.

  ‘Really?’ I said.

  ‘Lu is so in love with her. He’d never cope if she left him.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  Sharee thought about it for a moment. ‘She wouldn’t leave him for Clem, I don’t think.’

  ‘For someone else?’

  She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Hey, I better get back.’

  Cass and I exchanged looks and I added some more notes to my phone.

  Jase did a couple of pass-bys to check on us; and Red came by to pick up his order right on the dot of eleven thirty – without a thank you.

  As rush hour approached, Cass started to take control. ‘Everything’s ready to go. You wanna do the deep-frying?’ she said.

  I sighed. ‘If I must.’

  ‘I’ve set the oil to the right temperature,’ she said, like a mother encouraging her ten-year-old to cook.

  Tentatively I dropped half a packet of straight-cut fries into the bubbling oil.

  ‘Take them out now!’ Cass said from behind me a few minutes later.

  I lifted the drainer up and the chips, amazingly, appeared golden brown and appetising. ‘I did it!’

  Cass held out a metal tray. ‘See, you can cook.’

  ‘They look good. I’ll have a large serve of those,’ said a deep voice from the queue building outside the van window.

  Feeling ridiculously pleased, I scooped some into a paper cup and salted them.

  From then on, Cass and I didn’t get a chance to speak other than passing food to and fro. We fell into a rhythm where I took the orders and gave change while Cass made up the food. I repeated each order out loud as she was about to make it so she didn’t have to read it from the pad.

  When Jase came for his lunch, I added a freebie bucket of chips. His aura brightened in gratitude, so I took the opportunity to fish a bit.

  ‘These bike racers are pretty intense. Heard a bunch of arguments while I was taking orders this morning,’ I said, poking the chiko rolls and potato scallops with a fork as I talked. ‘Guess there’s a fair bit at stake. Money and all.’

  ‘Sure is. And tempers run hot in the pits. On the track too. Seen some crazy stuff. Nothing like the fight the other night, though.’

  ‘Oh?’ I said, r-e-a-l casual.

  ‘Had to call the cops in.’

  ‘True?’

  His chest expanded a little. ‘Yeah. I mean, I coulda handled it but the track owner likes to have everything done by the book.’

  I gave him an admiring look. ‘You gotta do things right. Who was fighting?’

  Cass stopped washing up and listened as well.

  ‘That mechanic from Moto-Sane,’ said Jase.

  ‘Clem? Wow, he doesn’t look like the type.’ I thought about his angry reaction to Lu Red’s needling. ‘Who did he have a beef with?’

  ‘Team Riley’s wrench. Claimed the guy had been touching Lu Red’s bike. Like I said, things get heated before a big meet.’

  ‘Do you reckon it was true?’

  Jase ate a couple more chips and thought about it. ‘Guess it’s possible. Everyone knows Moto-Sane’s been having problems. But it’s not real likely. They lock the garages when they’re not there. And we’re always around checking.’

  ‘At night too?’

  ‘Yeah. Twenty-four seven.’

  ‘That’s a pretty serious thing to accuse someone of.

  What did the cops reckon?’

  ‘Fight was all over by the time they got here. Funny thing, though: Clem never told the cops what it was about. He just made out like it was an argument over nothing.’

  ‘Maybe it was?’

  Jase nodded, crushed his empty chips container and tossed it into the bin. ‘Yeah. Probably. Better get back to work.’

  After Cass and I had finished cleaning up, she went to find T-Dog to say goodbye while I wandered down to the track to watch practice. Lu Red was out on the black Honda CBR 1000. He sped past, leaving a cloud of four-stroke vapour in the air.

  I saw Bolo leaning against the fence near the start/ finish line with a board and pen in hand. Seemed like an opportunity to ask him a few things but I hesitated. It might seem suspicious, him talking to the sandwich girl. I’d call him later.

  I settled for a visit to Sharee at the information booth.

  ‘Did you see Lu?’ she asked excitedly.

  I noticed she had a stopwatch in her hand. ‘You timing him?’

  She put her fingers to her lips. ‘Don’t tell anyone. Not much to do on practice days. Race day, well, that’s something else.’

  ‘Is he fast? Lu Red?’

  ‘Fifty-six seconds flat last practice. He’s real fast when the bike’s working. Had a fair bit of bad luck lately though. Gig Riley’s getting real close. Fifty-six-oh-three this morning. Gig’s been getting in a bunch of practice. The Suzuki’s going like a dream.’

  ‘You know a bit about bikes?’

  ‘Bikes, cars, sidecars, motocross. I’ve got four brothers and they’re all petrolheads. Besides, it’s my job.’ She clicked the stopwatch as Red came past the post. ‘Fifty-five-ninety-eight. Oh my God, he’s close to the lap record.’

  I glanced over at Bolo. Red’s girlfriend had joined him. Bolo wasn’t watching the track anymore and their conversation looked heated.

  I nodded towards them. ‘You’d think they’d be happy about it.’

  Sharee finished writing the time in her little notebook and looked up. ‘Lu deserves better than her. She so like . . . controls him.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Makes all his decisions for him. You know . . . how high and when. Have you seen his tee-shirts?’

  I thought about the ironed-in creases. ‘Yeah, I noticed that. What’s her name anyway? No one bothered to introduce me.’

  ‘Sally something or other. From some rich family over east.’

  ‘Does she like him racing?’

  Sharee shrugged. ‘Never talked to her. Only know what I’ve heard from . . . you know . . . around.’

  ‘Sure, time I got going,’ I said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah. Good lunch by the way. Jim always puts too much salt on it.’

  ‘I’ll tell Cass. Thanks.’

  And I did, on the way home. For a moment she almost looked pleased, but that could have just been her face muscles getting tired of scowling.

  Chapter 11

  CASS HAD FIRST SHOWER, then went off to retrieve the washing from JoBob. While she was doing that, I lay on the bed thinking about what I now knew.

  For starters, the owner of Team Riley was an arsehole. Then there was the Lu Red–Clem thing happening over the blonde woman, who I’d also seen arguing with Bolo. And then there was the fight between the two mechanics, Clem and Riley’s guy. The latter definitely sounded worthwhile investigating. Then another thought occurred to me.

  I called Wal and he answered quickly. ‘Yeah, boss?’

  ‘Your friend, Leonard, can you check him out? See if you can find out what he’s been doing since you last worked together.’

  ‘He’s cool, boss, I tell ya.’

  ‘Will you do it, Wal?’

  He grunted his agreement and hung up.

  Cass returned with a basket of folded clothes and two cookbooks. ‘Your mum says hello.’

  ‘Is tha
t all?’ I asked suspiciously.

  ‘Ummm, she also said to remind you about Saturday night. Dinner with Phillip something?’

  ‘Uggh.’ Somehow I needed to find a way out of that one.

  Cass curled up on the fold-out bed and began browsing the cookbooks. I knew she couldn’t read but there were plenty of glossy pictures. I went back to thinking about the things I had to do. Talking to Nick was number one. Kate and Louise at Madame Vine’s next. I included Crack on my list – he might know something useful now I had a better idea what questions to ask. Tomorrow I had to meet Smitty and Rampant Kindy Mum, and the next day I was babysitting Ed at his photo shoot. When that was finished, there was the nightclub gig for Mr Hara.

  I couldn’t see much in the way of sleep over the next few days so made a mental note to get to bed early tonight. Not a bad thing to have in mind given I was having dinner with Tozzi.

  I thought about ringing Smitty for clothes advice for my dinner date, but it was acid hour at her place. I settled for Bok instead, calling him from the garden so that Cass didn’t hear my tragic wardrobe dependency problem.

  ‘Darling,’ he said. ‘Thanks for sorting it with Ed.’

  ‘He wants me to come to the shoot with him. That okay with you?’

  Silence.

  ‘Bok?’

  ‘Sure. That is . . . well . . .’

  Bok never hedged with me. It was always straight to the point like a well-thrown dagger. ‘Wassup, man?’

  ‘You’re welcome to come. But you should know that he’s shooting with Jenny Munro.’

  Jenny Munro!

  ‘Bok! OH MY GOD! How could you? The bitch from hell.’

  ‘Now, T, be nice. It’s an article on some of our elite sportspeople. Each one’s partnered with a model.’

  ‘But why Ed?’ I moaned.

  ‘Jenny’s pretty tall. I had to put her with one of the bigger guys.’

  ‘Bok. How could you do this to me?’

  ‘Stop being so dramatic,’ he snapped, much more like his regular self. ‘Come to the shoot. I’ll bring some Louis Roederer to cheer you up.’

  Champagne could cure most of the world’s ills – but NOT, I was pretty sure, having your boyfriend rubbing up next to Jenny Munro. Last time I’d seen Munro, we’d competed against each other in the running section of a team triathlon. Jenny’s an Ironwoman and pro athlete. She should have taken out line honours, but I was being chased by two of Johnny Vogue’s hoods (one of them the now departed Sammy Barbaro) and beat her across the line. She went down in a screaming heap of recriminations but I was too busy running for safety to bother with it.

  Besides, I owed her one. She broke my nose with a deliberate elbow in a basketball final when we were juniors. Not something you forget in hurry. Or ever. Evil bitch.

  ‘Alright,’ I said. ‘But if she baits me . . .’

  ‘If she baits you, you’ll behave like the perfect lady that you are and ignore her. This shoot is an excellent gig for your boyfriend, T. You wouldn’t want to spoil it, would you?’

  Bok’s always been talented at working me. We’ve been friends ever since he hit me on the head with a ruler in primary school and I repaid the compliment by tipping him off his chair. We knew each other inside out and back to front, and he wasn’t above playing dirty to get me to do what he wanted. But he was also always there for me.

  ‘I’m having dinner with Nick Tozzi tonight. Strictly business,’ I added, quickly ‘What should I wear?’

  ‘Remember you have a boyfriend, Tara Sharp.’

  Bok was gaining ground on Joanna as guilt-meister!

  ‘Nick’s got me a job. I’m just meeting him about it.’

  ‘Then why are you worried about what you’re wearing?’

  ‘Just tell me!’

  ‘Well . . . black is back . . . as long as it’s red.’

  It took me a second to realise he was slinging me a ridiculous fashion-speak line.

  ‘Loser,’ I said.

  I heard him laughing as I hung up.

  I took a deep breath. Now it was time for the thing I really couldn’t put off any longer. I rang Madame Vine.

  ‘Yes?’ she answered quietly.

  ‘Madame Vine. It’s Tara Sharp. H-how are you going?’

  ‘I’m . . . coping, thank you, Tara.’

  ‘I’m . . . err . . . glad. Have the police made any progress on finding out who . . . did it?’

  ‘They tell me it will take time but they’re confident in a result. I’m not so sure, though.’ She was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice had become thinner, more strangled. ‘I must find Audrey’s killer, Tara. I’ll do anything to find him. You understand. Please, help me.’

  I had to be honest with her. ‘Madame Vine, I’m happy to help you, but you realise that I’m not a trained private investigator? The police aren’t going to share any information with me. They’re much more likely to succeed than I am. In fact, I’m not sure what I can really do.’

  ‘The truth is, Tara, the police have been keeping the place under surveillance since the threats started. But I’m not happy with their results. It couldn’t hurt to have you asking questions as well,’ she said.

  I thought about Whitey’s attitude towards me and wondered. ‘Do you mind if I ask why you want me involved?’

  Another silence. This one shorter, though. ‘I’ll try anything. And people I trust recommend you.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ It was my turn to hesitate. What did I do now? Go with the only idea I had. ‘The two women, Kate and –’

  ‘Louise.’

  ‘Yes. When could I speak to them?’

  ‘They’re at work now.’

  I glanced at my watch. ‘I’ll be over as soon as I can then.’

  ‘Thank you, Tara. I can pay you well.’

  ‘It’s not the money, Madame Vine. I prefer to only take jobs I think I can be effective on.’

  ‘Please, call me Lena.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon . . . Lena.’

  I went back inside and told Cass I was going out. She nodded vaguely, engrossed in the cookbooks.

  ‘You’re having dinner with Mum and Dad, aren’t you?’ I checked.

  Another nod.

  ‘Right. Well, I have to see another . . . client, then I have a business dinner. Lock the door when you go to bed, I’ll take my key.’

  Nothing.

  I sighed. Teenagers.

  I wouldn’t have time to come back home so I needed to dress for dinner now. Ransacking my wardrobe, I found the only red thing I owned: a dress I’d bought for Smitty’s birthday party the previous year.

  Three minutes in the shower and out and I slipped it on. It still fitted – a little snugger perhaps – but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of Madame Vine to take much notice. I couldn’t get rid of the image of Audrey’s stilettos still on her feet as she lay dead on the veranda.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Cass, looking up from her cookery book.

  ‘Errr . . . sure. I’ll see you later.’

  I grabbed my beach bag, car keys and a light wrap, and slipped on my black heels. Cass’s eyes widened and she looked like she might say something, then thought better of it.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘All good,’ she said and buried her head in the book again.

  I called Wal and arranged to pick him up on the way to Leederville. He was at Liv’s apartment, having dinner, so I took a detour through Claremont. When he got into the front passenger seat I noticed gravy stains on his shirt and wine on his breath.

  ‘Sorry to drag you away from dinner,’ I said. ‘Did you find out anything about Leonard Roc?’

  ‘I asked around,’ he said slowly.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Seems he got out of the can a while back for pushing.’

  ‘Pushing what?’

  ‘Coke. Whatever. They reckon he’s clean now though.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks. Maybe you could suss him out some more while I’m talking to Madame Vine
. Good job, Wal.’

  ‘No sweat, boss. It’s my job. Nice dress.’

  I gave him a sideways look to see if he was joking, but his expression seemed perfectly serious.

  On the drive I brought him up to speed on the ins and outs of the Bolo Ignatius job.

  ‘Two gigs at once, boss. We must be getting a good reputayshun,’ he said.

  We? I swallowed to moisten my suddenly dry mouth.

  ‘Maybe. Look, I’m going to talk to two of Lena Vine’s workers, Kate and Louise. I want you to poke around while I do.’

  ‘Gotcha!’

  ‘Be subtle.’

  ‘My first name. Subtle Wal.’ He burped for emphasis.

  I parked outside the brothel and slung my wrap across the front of my dress to tone it down a bit. The police tape was gone from the street, but a section of the garden was still cordoned off and a police officer stood by the door. We skirted the tape and told the policeman that we had an appointment.

  Roc, the security guard, answered the bell and he and Wal low-fived each other.

  ‘This is my boss, Tara Sharp,’ said Wal by way of introduction. ‘Boss, meet Leonard Roc.’

  Leonard was a big, muscled guy with a jaw thick enough to chop wood on. Hello, HGH! He held out a hand as big as a shovel to shake mine. ‘G’day.’

  His aura had thin streaks of white snaking through it like cracks. He wasn’t long away from a major illness. It hadn’t reached the no aura stage that, in my experience, meant he was dying but he was on that path. Part of me wanted to say something but I’d learned that lesson a while ago. Stay out of strangers’ lives.

  ‘Hi,’ I said.

  Lena Vine came up behind him and he stepped out of her way. Only a day had passed since I’d seen her and yet she seemed to have lost kilos. Her face showed signs of sleeplessness and trauma and her aura boiled unhappily.

  ‘Come this way, Tara,’ she said.

  I followed her to a room opposite her office, which turned out to be the staff lounge. Not as opulent as the front lounge where the clients waited, but comfortable and clean. A pretty fair-headed girl around my age sat in one of the chairs, flicking through a magazine. I could see immediately that she wasn’t really paying attention to it.

  ‘This is Kate,’ Lena said. ‘I’ll close the door and make sure you’re not disturbed. When you’ve finished, open the door and I’ll bring Louise in.’