Strike Me Dead

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Strike Me Dead Page 12

by Bob Goodwin


  ‘And I really am being followed,’ added James. ‘What’s more, I can prove it. So, if you don’t mind, Rae, I’ll go out the back door. You go out the front and pick me up at the bus stop. My car can stay where it is for now.

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ nodded Raelene.

  Chapter 36

  Stun Grenades

  It was three-and-a-half hours after they left the gym when Raelene’s phone rang. James woke from his rest on the sofa after having taken Risperidone and Diazepam shortly after they had arrived at Rae’s place. The Mini Foxie and the Jack Russell were both nestled in between his legs. The three all raised their heads simultaneously and watched Rae walk to the phone. Just before she picked it up, she looked over to the sofa.

  ‘I know, you’re not really here. Don’t worry,’ she winked and smiled. ‘Hello this is Rae...’

  ‘Hi Carmel. How are you...’

  ‘I’m not too bad. I had a slight migraine so I left work early today...’

  ‘Well he was at the gym doing the cleaning when I left...’

  ‘I am surprised to hear you say that, because I thought he seemed quite well...’

  ‘Okay...’

  ‘If I see James, I’ll ask him to call you then. But I’m sure he’s fine...’

  ‘Bye for now then. Bye.’ She put down the phone.

  ‘So what do you think of that, Sherlock? And what about you, Watson?’ James scratched both dogs roughly around their ears. Sherlock pushed himself harder against James’s fingers while Watson parked his head on James’s knee. ‘Oh, you clever boys should be able to sort this mess out?’

  ‘They’ll take that all day,’ said Rae.

  ‘You’re such a good boy.’ He moved his face closer to Sherlock. ‘Aren’t you Sherls?’

  ‘I wasn’t convinced that Carmel believed me.’ Rae sat on the edge of the sofa next to James.

  ‘She’ll send the cops around here for sure. She wants me locked up and bombed out.’

  ‘Well, you just need to be careful.’ She pushed his long hair away from his face. ‘If the police do come, you just close yourself in the bedroom. They can’t enter the house without permission or a warrant.’

  ‘Let’s hope they don’t have one then.’

  ‘You feeling better now?’

  ‘Much better. I can think sensibly again. To be honest, I’m probably not quite as well as I like to think I am.’ James sat up and dropped his legs over the side of the sofa, upsetting Watson who was settling back in.

  ‘Insight is a wonderful thing and I’m so glad you’ve found it.’

  James looked at Raelene. Their faces were close. He took her in a big hug and squeezed.

  ‘Thank you for everything,’ he breathed into her ear. ‘And oh yes. There’s something you must see.’ He let her go and crossed the room to his sports bag and pulled out his iPad. With some excitement, he dropped down next to her again, pushed a couple of buttons and tapped on the screen.

  ‘Here we are.’ He showed her a Google map of the local area. ‘You see these coloured lines. They go from here near my place, to the gym over here. Late at night, they go over here to the Sebel in Maroochydore. This line here goes to the Kawana police station.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘This is where a grey Honda Accord has been going. Following me around. I’ve put a magnetic tracker on it. That’s why I borrowed your car just after getting to the gym yesterday. I followed the Honda to Mooloolaba beach. This tall guy sat on a bench and chatted to a Chinese couple. I created a distraction and slipped on the tracker unnoticed.’

  Rae’s mouth had dropped open.

  ‘It’s okay, I wasn’t seen.’

  ‘It’s not that.’ Rae was struggling to fathom the whole scenario. ‘It’s just you, being well, being not so well, following cars, using tracking devices, this distraction thing.’

  ‘I just paid a few kids with smokes and cans of V to create a bit of a scene then I just placed the tracker under the car, only metres from this dude. Quite exciting, eh!’

  ‘I guess.’ She sounded unconvinced. ‘Where did you get the tracker? And I don’t think you should be giving kids cigarettes.’

  ‘Hey, that’s what they wanted. It was a random and rather fortunate opportunity. As for the tracker, I got it on the net. Had it for a while. Healthy paranoia, that’s what I call it.’

  ‘Why would someone want to follow you?’

  ‘Why indeed! I have come up with only one clear and probable thought on this. It’s because of Jessica Chang. They think I know something about her disappearance. Which is in fact, true but true in a different way to what they are likely to be thinking. It’s probably because of the sketch in the paper and because I was mouthing off at the Blue Orchid and in the psych ward.’

  ‘So where is this Honda now?’

  James looked back at the iPad. ‘See that blue flashing circle. He’s still near the gym. He’ll know by now I’m not there but probably wants to keep an eye on my van for a while I would think, just in case I come back. There’s been a red Barina popping up a bit too frequently as well.’

  ‘You tracking it too?’

  ‘Not yet. Haven’t had a chance. Maybe it’s a colleague of the big guy. I don’t know.’

  ‘What now then?’

  ‘Now, I need to speak with my follower.’ James switched off the iPad and returned it to his bag.

  ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think it can make matters worse.’

  ‘It could if he decided to hand you over to the police?’

  ‘I reckon I can talk him out of it. I have a secret weapon.’

  ‘Okay, so what else have you sourced from the Internet? Thumb screws? Stun grenades? Nerve gas?’ Rae walked over to him. James casually took a step and put himself between Rae and his bag.

  ‘I’ll be needing your car again. And I’ll be needing my folders.’ He crouched, pulled them from his sports bag and waved them. ‘We need another believer, Rae. Then we can go looking for Jessica.’ He put them back, covering the scanner and zipped the bag closed.

  Chapter 37 — 2010

  Unfinished Business

  Claymore Finn pulled his Kombi van into the visitor’s car park at the Robina Retirement and Rehabilitation Village, grabbed a bag of groceries and made his way to unit 113. He meandered along pathways, across a narrow bridge over a small flowing creek and past some garden beds of assorted vegetables before arriving at the front door of a tidy, low-set brick unit. He pushed his key into the round handle, opened the door and entered the combined lounge, dining and kitchen area.

  ‘Father! It’s Claymore.’ He looked around the sparsely furnished room. ‘I’ve got groceries.’ He set them down on the kitchen bench. There were grunting sounds coming from the bedroom. ‘You okay? Do you need a hand in there?’ After a couple more grunts, Morgan Finn shuffled out. He was a shadow of his former self, with his long dark hair now long, thinning and grey, with a bald area across the top of his head around a long scar. He looked thin, gaunt and fragile as he dragged his right leg across the floor. His hands and arms were tight and bent up with muscular spasms.

  ‘You know, the physio said you should be trying to use that four-pronged stick more.’

  ‘Arghhh ... grrurg ... hah ... gar,’ growled Morgan. He awkwardly tugged a handkerchief free from his pocket and wiped some dribble from his mouth before dropping onto one of two wooden dining chairs. On the table was a pile of large blank sheets of paper and in a plastic bowl some thick coloured crayons.

  ‘The lemons were on special. We can make some of your famous lemonade.’ Claymore held up a plastic bag of fruit. ‘And hey, look, plums and cherries. They’re out early this year.’

  ‘Huh,’ spat Morgan with a jerky nod of his head. His son continued putting the groceries away, leaving a block of dark chocolate out on the bench. He opened it and broke off two squares and put one in his father’s mouth before sitting down in the other
dining chair.

  ‘Good news, Father,’ he said brightly. ‘The compensation should be all settled within a week.’ Morgan grabbed at the crayons and with difficulty, drew a large question mark.

  ‘Well, we will get about $1.2 million. The lawyers get the rest.’

  ‘Huh ... ahhh ... grrurg,’ spat Morgan.

  ‘Yeah, I know we wanted one and a half, but let’s not grumble. It gets us out of trouble with plenty left over. Now we can start looking at getting you back to the Sunshine Coast. A nice new place all of your own.’

  There was a nod in reply. Morgan grabbed the question mark and dragged it away and started writing three large letters.

  Claymore looked at the big green word — “NOW”. He said nothing for a moment.

  ‘Huh, huh, huh?’ grunted his father.

  ‘There has been no sign.’ Claymore pushed both hands through his long black hair and dropped his head. ‘Sorry, but I cannot proceed.’ Morgan reefed away the paper and wrote again. This time just two big letters then he banged down the green crayon snapping it in half.

  Claymore parted the hair in front of his face, raised his eyes and looked at the two letters “G L”.

  He rested his head in his hands with elbows on the table and looked at his father.

  ‘Huh, huh?’ Morgan hit the paper with his fingers.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’re meaning Green Lantern by any remote chance?’ He replied with a half-smile. His father struck the table some more. Saliva slid from his open mouth and down his chin.

  ‘I know, Father. I know you want this guy Graham Lawson. After all this time, the thought of his possessed soul being out there continues to trouble you. He nearly killed you and I know you want me to remove his head. And really, for what he’s put you through, I could probably do that. But you taught me to wait for the sign. You said I would know it when it comes. It would be clear and there would be no doubt.’

  Claymore got to his feet and began walking around the lounge area, doing laps around the one lounge chair. ‘I am still waiting for that sign. I pray for it to come. But it still eludes me.’ Morgan was writing again. ‘I am ready, Father. We know everything about this man. When the Lord asks me, shows me and directs me, I will respond.’

  Morgan grabbed the paper and held it in his twisted wrist and extended a trembling arm. Claymore read the untidy words “U FINISH MY JOB!”

  Morgan dropped the paper, hauled himself to his feet and moved towards the bedroom. He grunted at his son who knew that particular grunt was an instruction to follow.

  In the bedroom, Morgan leaned against the wall, tilted his head and gaze upward to the top cupboards above the built-in wardrobe.

  ‘Huh, huh. Argh, huh,’ he growled and flicked his head upwards. Claymore opened the cupboard and lifted down a battered brown leather suitcase, which he dropped onto the bed. He undid the two straps and opened the case. Inside was a single parcel wrapped in brown paper. Morgan grunted again and moved back to the dining area. Claymore picked up the soft parcel and followed.

  The package was taped up, stamped and addressed to Morgan Finn at Unit 113, Robina R & R Village, Gold Coast. The 24-year-old placed it on the kitchen bench.

  ‘I guess you want me to open this?’ There was a nod of affirmation as his father sat back at the table and picked up a red crayon. Claymore took a closer look near the stamp. ‘You’ve had this for six months.’ He ripped open the brown paper then just stood staring at the contents, a little lost for words.

  ‘Huh, huh,’ grunted Morgan through his best distorted smile.

  ‘How did you get this?’

  Morgan got to work with the crayon and wrote four letters. Claymore glanced down.

  ‘Ebay! You managed to shop on eBay?’

  His father wrote the name “BONNIE”.

  ‘You’re telling me that your nurse bought this for you on eBay?’ Morgan nodded over and over, and smiled as best he could.

  Claymore Finn lifted the black priest’s shirt, complete with clerical collar and held it up to his chest. Morgan was beside himself. It was not since the two used to stalk each other through the bush around the old Finn house that he had seen his father so animated and excited.

  ‘Well, it looks like you got the size right.’ He glanced from one shoulder to the other. Morgan had written some more. He snatched up his sheet of paper and held it just below his chin. “I HAVE A PLAN”.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you do,’ nodded Claymore.

  Chapter 38

  The Hunter

  James had no sooner driven off in Rae’s car than he noticed a police vehicle coming in the opposite direction. He casually took the next left turn before the two cars passed each other. He watched them through the rear-vision mirror then out the side window as they proceeded in the direction of Raelene’s house. He wasn’t sure if the microphone in the barometer would pick up conversation from the front door, but it was worth a try. He placed the scanner next to the iPad. The blue circle still flashed at the gym.

  * * *

  Sherlock and Watson sounded the alert. Rae peered out at the police officers leaving their vehicle. She put the dogs out the back before returning and opening the door, leaving the screen door shut. The male officer lowered his hand from the doorbell.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ he said politely with a tilt of his head. ‘I am Senior Constable John Hawkins. This is Constable Sally Mitchell. I presume you would be Miss Raelene Watson?’

  ‘Yes, you presume correctly.’

  ‘I understand you know one James Champion?’

  ‘Yes, you understand correctly.’

  ‘May we have a moment of your time? Perhaps we could come inside?’

  ‘Has something happened to James?’

  ‘No, not to our knowledge, but we are concerned about his well-being.’

  There was a pause in the conversation before Rae decided to open the screen door.

  ‘Come in if you wish then, but I only have a few minutes,’ lied Rae.

  * * *

  James listened to Rae as she chatted with the police. He liked that she had let them inside. Showing them that there was nothing to hide would reduce the likelihood of them returning. They spoke surprisingly freely to her, discussing the Mental Health Act and the authority to return to hospital, which had been issued. The female officer requested use of the bathroom and Rae politely showed her the way. James felt confident that Rae would know that their main objective would be to cast a casual eye around and check the premises for signs of other guests — namely himself.

  He looked at the iPad. The Honda was on the move.

  * * *

  James was soon within a hundred metres of the Honda Accord and that seemed close enough. He could see it up ahead between cars as it made its way along the motorway and then he followed as it took the exit for Maroochydore. He ventured a little closer so as not to get separated at the lights, not that he would lose the car anyway but right now he was more interested in the driver. They made their way through Alexandra Headlands and then turned right near McDonald’s. The Accord indicated then reverse parked between two other vehicles across the road from an apartment block.

  This was the moment. James drove alongside the parked car as close as he could then stopped, preventing the driver from opening his door. He jumped out, iPad in hand, and ran to the passenger’s window to look in at a fit, middle-aged man in jeans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt. James tapped on the glass. The window went down. One of the man’s hands was out of sight, on the right side below the seat.

  ‘You’ll be needing to move that vehicle,’ he said firmly.

  ‘I know you have been following me,’ replied James with a nod and a half-smile.

  ‘I don’t even know you. Do I need to call the police?’

  ‘Let’s not play games. Of course you’ve been following me.’ He raised the iPad. ‘You see these coloured lines? That’s you following me. I have a tracker on your car. The g
ym; my home.’ He pointed to the areas in turn. ‘The police station; here’s you at your hotel and here’s you right now! I might be crazy, but I’m no fool. You’ve been tailing me because you think I might know something about Jessica Chang. We need to talk because I do have important information.’

  ‘You fucker. Tailing me. Tracking me. Shit, that’s my job,’ said Jason. He was only slightly incensed but at the same time a little impressed. ‘Well, you still need to shift your car, Columbo.’ He released whatever he was holding in his right hand then adjusted his seat backwards and crossed his arms. ‘Then you can hop in here and tell me what’s on your mind.’

  ‘Good then,’ said James, now with a hint of trepidation. He moved back to his car and parked it further up the road. He grabbed his folder and returned to the Honda.

  ‘You do know the police are looking for you, don’t you?’ said the detective.

  ‘Yes, I know.’ James dropped into the passenger’s seat. ‘I blame my mother. And the police can have me, but not today.’ He flicked his hair from his face.

  ‘Fair enough. Anyway, I’m Jason Hunter, private detective.’ The two shook hands.

  ‘And I’m James Champion, local crazy person.’

  ‘Let’s say clever, crazy person,’ added Jason. ‘I am working for the Chang family. Not that this would be any great surprise to you.’

  ‘I knew you were investigating Jessica Chang’s disappearance. It’s the only angle that made any sense.’

  ‘What have you got for me, Columbo?’

  ‘For us,’ he nodded, wide-eyed.

  ‘We can visit that discussion when I’ve had a look.’

  Once again, James had an audience for his presentation. Another recruit, especially a private detective, would be invaluable. He went through the story again, being as detailed as he could and checked whether Jason understood at each stage. Over a period of ten minutes, the transparencies fell onto one another, slowly revealing the darker blue area at Kings Wood. He gave Hunter the list of eighteen names. The detective listened and observed but gave no indication, one way or the other, of his thoughts or feelings. James, on the other hand, was quite animated and energetic. He finished his talk and looked openly at Jason, who nodded slowly and took his time in responding.

 

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