Sharp Turn

by Marianne Delacourt

  I parked my butt opposite Kate and sucked in her ambience. That turned out not to be the best idea. I got hit with an unpleasantly sticky sensation.

  ‘Thanks for talking to me, Kate. Madame . . . Lena is very anxious to find Audrey’s . . . you know.’

  Kate lifted her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze was uninterested and slightly out of focus. ‘Whatever.’

  I sucked in a breath. ‘Can you tell me what you remember about the evening?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Like I haven’t told the police a hundred times already.’

  ‘Yeah. But I’m not the police, so just tell it like it was.’

  ‘Who are you? A PI?’ She showed a flicker of interest.

  ‘Just a friend of a . . . friend of Lena’s.’

  ‘Oh.’ Boredom returned. ‘Well, I was in the lounge . . . painting my nails. I saw Audy go past and open the door. She didn’t come back in. Then someone else went out. Then everyone started screaming.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  She stared at me, as if struggling to understand my question.

  ‘What – did – you – do?’ I repeated.

  ‘Nothing. The others were all doing it. Poor old Audy.’

  She licked her lips and tried to express some emotion but couldn’t seem to sustain it. It was like talking to a rag doll. Ten minutes later I hadn’t got much further and called it quits. Her answers had gotten vaguer and vaguer. I took another look at her aura. In the artificial light the other night, I’d thought it missing altogether, but could now see it was just so diluted it was almost invisible.

  She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her nose. Suddenly, I knew what was wrong. Kate was stoned. Not obvious, incapable stoned. More like practised and still functioning – just.

  I got up abruptly and opened the door. ‘Thanks.’

  She seemed mildly surprised and then shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

  Louise replaced her on the couch within moments. She was as fidgety and tense as Kate had been chemically flattened, her aura running in a tight grey bead around her body.

  ‘Hi, Louise, I have some questions about the other night.’

  ‘I’ve told the police what I know,’ she said flatly.

  ‘Please, just tell me again.’

  She hunched over defensively. ‘I was in the lounge with Kate. Audrey went past to open the door and didn’t come back.’

  ‘Didn’t you think that was strange?’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘The door was left open. Did you hear her fall?’

  ‘I was listening to my iPod.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I took a stab at being a bit more provocative. ‘How did you get on with Audrey?’

  ‘Fine.’ Her aura stayed tight and hard.

  ‘What about Madame Vine?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt either of them?’

  ‘No.’ This time sulphur sparks ignited in her aura like a match had been lit.

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  ‘That all?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She gave me a suspicious look then got up and left.

  Lena appeared almost immediately at the door, as if she’d been hovering.

  ‘Could I speak to you privately?’ I said.

  ‘Certainly, come to the office.’

  I followed her the short distance down the corridor and stayed standing when she closed the door and sat at her desk. Audrey’s adjoining office door was open, her things still in place.

  ‘What do you know about Louise’s background?’ I asked.

  She thought for a moment, pressing her temples as if to relieve a headache. ‘She’s from Victoria, a student who found she couldn’t live on her allowance. Many of my girls come to me because of that problem. She’s been here nearly two years and I’ve never had any problems with her. Her other details are on file. Was there something in particular?’

  ‘Could I review the file, particularly her previous job history? And, if you have it, a list of her clients since she’s been here.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Fortunately, I actually keep those sorts of records. Not all establishments do.’

  ‘Wonderful. I have to run to an appointment. Could you email them to me?’ I gave her my address. ‘I’ll be in touch soon.’

  ‘Do you think Louise is involved in what happened?’

  ‘I’m not saying that. I just need to check some things out. In the meantime, don’t treat her any differently to anyone else. By the way, do you have a “no drugs” policy among your employees?’

  She frowned. ‘A very strict one. It’s one of my criteria for job selection.’

  ‘Your security guard, Leonard Roc, how did he end up working here?’

  ‘Leonard was trained by Instant Security. He came very highly recommended.’

  ‘I assume they run background checks?’

  ‘Scrupulous. I’ve used them before and always been very pleased with their standards.’

  ‘So you know he had a previous drug conviction?’

  ‘Leonard is quite reformed. I believe in giving people a chance to change their lives.’

  ‘Fair enough but, on that note, you might want to have a word with Kate about changing hers.’

  She pursed her lips and nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  Wal and I swapped stories on the way back to Liv’s.

  ‘Len reckons it hadta be someone who’s been there,’ he told me. ‘You know, with the girls. Someone who knew to get him out the back so they could get a clear shot on the dead chick. Knew she’d be the one to answer the door.’

  ‘Audrey,’ I said automatically.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Sure seems that way,’ I said. ‘I need you to check out a company called Instant Security for me. See what you can find out about them – who the owner is, what their reputation is like.’

  ‘That where Len came from?’

  I nodded.

  He chewed his lip but gave his begrudging grunt of agreement. ‘Still think you’re barking up the wrong tree, boss.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ I said. ‘Meanwhile, I’m going to do some background on one of the girls there. Got a feeling about her.’

  Wal gave me a sideways glance. ‘You got more than that, don’t ya?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘’Bin talking to Liv. She reckons you’ve got second sight or somethin’.’

  I almost ran off the highway. ‘What?’

  ‘She reckons you don’t just read folks’ body language, you see things about them as well. Colours and shit.’

  How the hell did Liv know that? It wasn’t something I’d ever talked to her about. I mean, she knew I was a bit erratic sometimes but . . .

  ‘You believe that?’ I asked, stalling.

  ‘Yeah, reckon I do. Seen you react real quick sometimes, like you can tell shit’s gonna happen before it does.’

  I bit my lip. The only people who knew I could see auras were Bok, Mr Hara and the psychiatrist. Should I add Wal to that exclusive list? He and I weren’t exactly friends. Wal was psycho, and yet . . . he was kinda growing on me.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said carefully. ‘Sometimes.’

  I waited for his reaction.

  ‘Cool.’ He nodded his approval.

  He left it at that and so did I.

  Chapter 12

  I DROPPED WAL AT LIV’s and sped on to Eireen Tozzi’s mansion in Euccy Grove. Scrambling out of the car, I discarded my wrap on the back seat and smoothed my hair before pressing the doorbell.

  Eireen answered dressed in a pink satin dressing gown and black pumps. Her hair was dyed a violent red; quite a change from the lacquered black beehive she’d had last time.

  ‘Oh, it’s Joanna’s girl,’ she said, as if speaking to someone else.

  ‘Tara,’ I reminded her.

  ‘Yes.’ She gave my outfit the once-over with pursed, disapproving lips.

  Suddenly, I felt horribly self-conscious
. What was wrong with my dress? As soon as Eireen had trotted down the hall to get Nick, I fished through my bag for my phone and speed dialled Smitty.

  ‘I’m at Eireen Tozzi’s picking Nick up for dinner,’ I whispered. ‘Bok told me to wear red.’

  ‘Red? But you hardly have any red in your . . .’

  Suddenly her intimate knowledge of my wardrobe clicked in. ‘Tara. Please tell me you’re not wearing the dress you bought for my Pimps and Hos party?’

  ‘Um . . . well . . . yes. Bok told me to wear red. It’s all I have. It’s okay, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it is not! OMG. Do you have a coat? Or a wrap?’

  ‘A wrap,’ I wailed.

  ‘Put it on.’

  ‘It’s in the car.’

  ‘Darling. This is bad. Flee now. Run out the door –’ ‘Tara?’

  Too late. Tozzi had appeared.

  ‘Darling. Brazen it out,’ were Smitty’s last words before I hung up on her.

  I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. ‘Sorry, just got a call.’

  Nick’s eyes bugged a little and he bit his lip. His caramel aura seemed to get thicker, like he was coated by chocolate. ‘Where did you want to eat?’ he asked.

  When I shrugged, he said, ‘What about Freo?’

  Fremantle was a little out of our way but a good option if we didn’t want to be seen. Right then, I’d have settled for takeaway fish and chips in front of the TV. But Smitty had said to brazen it out, so I did.

  ‘So what was it that you wanted to ask me?’ I said, as we walked out to the car.

  ‘I . . . err . . . needed some advice. Wanted to get Antonia a gift for, you know, getting through rehab. Thought you might be able to suggest something.’

  ‘Oh.’ I tried really hard not to sound disappointed. ‘Um . . . I’m not good on presents. Sorry.’

  He shrugged. ‘Okay.’

  ‘So how’s the job going?’ he asked as I swirled Mona past the Reventon and out of the white-stoned driveway.

  ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Bolo asked me to go out to the track undercover and observe the other teams. Well, I’ve done that. Now I’m doing some background work.’

  ‘You think I can help?’

  ‘The owners of the teams are all prominent local businessmen. I figured you might have heard things about them.’

  I accelerated onto the highway and headed south to Freo. The moon looked way romantic against the cloudy, dark sky.

  ‘There are four of them,’ I went on. ‘Tony Bennett, from the hardware chain; George Shakes and Frosty Hardwick, who own Team Chesley; Robert Riley from Riley’s Tyres; and then Bolo.’

  Tozzi nodded. ‘I hear Bennett’s pretty straight, but there’ve been whispers that the chain’s going broke. Hardware’s a pretty tough game when you’re an independent. Chesley . . . well, I’m surprised Shakes and Hardwick could agree even to buy a team, let alone operate one. Never go into business with family, Tara.’

  ‘No danger of that,’ I said, shuddering at the very thought of JoBob and me working together. ‘How are they related?’

  ‘Shakes and Hardwick married each other’s sisters.’

  ‘Oh?’ When you lived in a small, isolated city you tended to accumulate general knowledge and scuttlebutt about people you’d never met. George Shakes and Frosty Hardwick had been on my social radar for years as prominent local businessmen – I’d even been to one of Shakes’ jewellery soirées. But I’d never known he and Hardwick had a family connection. Joanna, on the other hand, knew more about Perth genealogy than I knew about basketball. I made a mental note to ask her for more info.

  ‘Riley, though . . .’ Tozzi trailed off.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let’s just say he’s on the tough side of ruthless.’

  Mr Rotten Egg, Sulphur Aura, Arsehole Riley. ‘Do you think he’d do anything to make sure his kid won?’

  I asked.

  ‘I don’t doubt it. In fact, I could almost guarantee it.’

  It fitted but it seemed a bit obvious.

  ‘What about Bolo’s team?’ I asked. ‘Do you know much about them? His rider? Mechanic?’

  Tozzi shook his head. ‘Not really. I mean, I hear that Lu Red’s fast. Bolo found him racing country-circuit speedway in Victoria. Had a talent for speed but had never ridden a bike before. Bolo brought him back here and taught him how to ride a four-stroke. He owes Bolo a lot. So Bolo says, anyway.’

  ‘Have you ever met Red’s girlfriend?’

  ‘You’re testing me now. I meet a lot of people.’ He screwed up his face. ‘Maybe once or twice. Great legs. Slim. That’s about all I remember.’

  Great legs. I switched lanes in irritation, causing an eruption of horn-tooting.

  ‘Bolo’s never mentioned her to you?’

  ‘What are you getting at, Tara?’

  ‘Nothing. Just fitting pieces together.’

  Glancing in my rear-view mirror, I caught a glimpse of a dark car behind me. It was identical to the one I’d thought was following me the other night.

  ‘Hold tight,’ I said, toeing the accelerator.

  Tozzi was smart enough to grab for the ceiling grip before I swerved off the highway towards the beach.

  The road was deserted, so I floored it all the way to Port Beach before doubling back to the highway and turning right onto the Freo bridge. Neither of us spoke until I’d found a park on the west side of the CBD near the old warehouses.

  ‘You going to tell me what that was about?’ asked Tozzi, when I turned the engine off.

  I thought about lying, but he probably needed to know.

  ‘I had an off-the-record visit from the local cops warning me to stay away from Viaspa,’ I told him, and rolled my eyes. ‘Like I needed that! Anyway, then I hear that Sammy Barbaro turned up doing a dead puffer fish impersonation under the Freo wharves. Minus his eyes. It’s made me a bit nervous. I’ve seen the same car behind me a couple of times.’

  Tozzi gave a low whistle. ‘I hadn’t heard about Barbaro. You think Viaspa did it?’

  I shrugged and unbelted. ‘Dunno. But Sammy knew a lot of stuff that could connect him to the mining scam.

  The only other person that knows about it is me.’ And Tozzi. But he didn’t need me to say that aloud.

  ‘You should’ve gone to the police at the time.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You still could.’

  ‘I told you. I don’t want to spend the next twenty years in some witness-protection program. I’d rather take my chances my way.’

  Tozzi sighed. ‘I feel responsible for this.’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t,’ I said firmly. ‘I make my own choices.’

  ‘And we all know where that gets you.’

  ‘Well, I chose not to sleep with you,’ I said tartly. ‘That was smart.’

  He laughed. ‘You did. But if you wear that dress for much longer . . .’

  My hand crept to my neck. ‘What’s wrong with my dress?’

  ‘Have you looked in the mirror?’

  ‘I didn’t have time,’ I said. ‘And Cass is staying with me. It would have been weird.’

  ‘Cass?’

  ‘Remember the kid from the Bunkas? The one I gave my handbag to?’

  ‘Vividly,’ he said. ‘How could I forget someone whose boyfriend threw bottles at my car?’

  ‘Not your car. At the train. Or the train track at least.’

  ‘At least.’

  ‘Well, anyway, she’s staying with me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Her mum threw her out of home. She’s got bruises around her neck – I think her mum tried to choke her. That’s actually the other reason I wanted to catch up with you.’

  He leaned back against the headrest and stared through the windscreen as if bracing himself. ‘Yes?’

  I swallowed. ‘I was hoping you might be able to find her a job.’

  ‘A job? Are you crazy?’

  ‘No. Just a bit left field,’ I said sa
rcastically, grabbing my wrap and getting out of the car.

  I walked quickly towards High Street. Nick caught me just before we reached the brightly lit main thoroughfare.

  ‘Look, saying you’re left field wasn’t meant as an insult, Tara.’

  ‘Right. Sure.’

  ‘I meant it as a compliment,’ he persisted.

  I fidgeted, suddenly nervous about a bunch of things – Tozzi using his serious tone; whether I’d lost my tail; whether there’d been a tail in the first place. As well as feeling jumpy, I was starving.

  ‘Why are you always laughing at me?’ I said.

  ‘Because you amuse me.’

  ‘How condescendingly sweet of you!’

  He made an exasperated noise and grabbed my shoulders. ‘Tara, why do you turn everything I say into a personal attack?’

  ‘Because that’s what it is.’

  As his hands tightened, I got an odd sensation in my stomach. I glanced down and saw a bright energy cord running between us, belly button to belly button. It had happened twice before, and this time was no less unnerving. Maybe that’s why I can’t let go of the Nick Tozzi attraction. The cord pulsed like a high pressure hose whenever we got close.

  I looked up to see him staring at the place where my red dress crossed over my breasts. His breathing pattern had changed and his aura was beginning to swamp me. I knew I had to get out of there. Something was about to happen that I’d really regret.

  ‘Um . . . look . . . I think dinner was a bad idea,’ I said, stepping back. ‘Thanks for your help, though. I have to go now. You don’t mind catching a taxi home, do you?’

  Not waiting for a reply, I wrenched myself out of his grip and ran like hell.

  As I passed the Stoned Crow on the way home, the neon sign advertising Sable’s caught my eye. I veered left and pulled into the car park. I needed to talk to Crack. And besides, I didn’t want to go home to my flat and sit there thinking about what had just happened.

  I was soon perched at the bar, sipping a soda. Things were quiet, and Sable was out the back Skyping her cousin in Spain, so Crack was happy to plant himself opposite me with only the occasional nervous glance to the staff entrance.

  ‘How’s the job going?’ he asked.