Fifty Fifty: (Harriet Blue 2) (Detective Harriet Blue Series)

by James Patterson

  We knelt in the dirt. The sweat was rolling down my sides now. Mick went to Kash’s back and tugged the second gun out of his jeans, kicked him onto his stomach with the rest of the men.

  ‘You,’ he pointed at me. ‘Take those wires over there, tie them up. And don’t think you’re going to do it loosely. I’ll check.’

  I crawled on my hands and knees to a pile of electrical wire nearby. The men had been drilling, sending charges through the rock wall, exploding bits off to get deeper into the seam. I wondered just how secure this all was, if in the end a collapse from the rock above would bury all of us. A Venus flytrap snapping shut on greedy flies. I looked up. The crack in the earth went all the way up. There were stars up there beyond us all. Maybe there was hope. Mick was muttering to Jace as I crawled over to him and began tying his hands.

  ‘Sure must be a lot of it for you all to have decided you’ll just take off and leave everyone behind,’ Mick was saying. ‘Let’s see. If I wanted to start a new life, I reckon I’d need a hundred grand minimum. A hundred grand could see you set yourselves up pretty well in Thailand.’

  ‘Fuck off, idiot,’ Jace snapped, his chin resting in the dirt, teeth together. I moved and tied Frank’s hands.

  ‘But then, you guys have been out here for ages, I reckon,’ Mick mused. ‘I started to notice you acting weird months back. Let’s say it’s three months of ferreting the rocks away. Then Soupy Campbell finds you with some. You have to bring him in on it all.’

  ‘What’s your plan here?’ I asked Mick. He’d elected me to bind everyone. He must have some level of trust in me. I tried to keep my voice low, non-threatening. ‘You’ll leave us all tied up here and then go raid everyone’s houses, take the rocks and leave. That’s what you’ll do, right?’

  Mick didn’t answer. I’d tied all Jace’s men and moved to Kash. His hands were sweaty.

  ‘Because there’s really no need to hurt anyone,’ I continued. ‘The guys will tell you where the gold is hidden, so you can get away with plenty of time.’

  ‘Shut up and finish what you’re doing.’

  ‘You’re talking about theft,’ I said. ‘That’s all. Leave now. Then if you’re caught, you can probably plead out. You do not want to find yourself on the run with six murder charges. When they find us, they’ll shut the whole country down to catch who did it.’

  Mick flicked the gun at the sand. I lay down and felt his bulk shift over me, the sickening press of his crotch against my backside as he pulled my arm behind my back with his free hand.

  ‘Who says they’re gonna find you?’ Mick asked.

  Chapter 102

  TOX CRACKED HIS knuckles and smiled, and the man smiled, and they rushed at each other.

  He was a prison fighter. Tox could tell that right away. You’ve got to fight fast in prison, before the guards stop you, so Regan faked only once before throwing in his first punch. Tox grabbed the fist as it sailed past his ear, yanked the man forwards and hit him hard in the sternum.

  Regan spat air, crumpled in half, fell on the coffee table, smashing it to pieces.

  Tox grabbed something – a vase or a sculpture or something, he didn’t look – and clubbed the man. Once. The second time was blocked.

  The kick in the knee was unexpected. Tox backed up into a bookshelf, sent more objects smashing.

  Regan was on him. A punch to the jaw that crunched his teeth. Tox blocked the second swing, palmed his attacker in the nose. Blood down the front of Regan’s shirt, fast and heavy. The man ignored it. He was a good fighter. Focused, determined under pressure. He’d have been a good killer. Those girls wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  Tox saw them in his mind, a tiny flash, smiling teeth and bright eyes, beautiful futures. It was what he needed to refocus himself. He leapt forwards.

  Chapter 103

  THE PROBLEM WAS tying my wrists with the gun in his spare hand. The cast made things even trickier. He tried, gave up, backed away. I shifted my hands to the ground beside my shoulders, in a push-up position, ready to spring. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I was the only one with my hands free. It was on me. Sweat was stinging on my burned skin. I planted my toes in the sand, wiggled them down until I felt hard earth. Mick was watching us all. Deciding. I could still talk him out of this. Surely.

  ‘Everybody thinks about getting out,’ Mick said gently. He rubbed his beard. ‘I mean, I get it. I grew up here, just like you guys. By the time you’re old enough to figure out there’s a whole other world out there, you’ve already grown roots. You stay, or you abandon everything. Everyone. There’s no in-between.’

  He was apologising. Saying sorry for what he was about to do. My throat was tight with tension. I could barely breathe.

  ‘This was your only chance,’ Mick said. He pointed the gun at Jace. ‘It’s my only chance now.’

  ‘No!’ I screamed. The gun roared, not once but twice. Mick was a seasoned killer. A country man. He’d shot dogs that got too old, horses that got lame, dingoes that wandered onto his property.

  He’d shot Jace in the head and turned and clicked back the hammer and shot the man beside him, Damien, before I even got to my feet. I slammed into him, the image of their bucking heads still shuddering through my mind.

  There was screaming. Men screaming. The two surviving men, Frank and John, crawled and cowered against the rock walls. Kash was on his feet, stumbling, trying to rip the wire from his wrists. I struggled with Mick for the pistol. His round belly pushed at my chest as he leaned back, hands high, trying to tug it from my grip.

  The third bullet hit the wall above us, dislodged rock and dust. It was in my eyes, in Mick’s eyes. I stepped back and kicked him in the crotch before he could take aim again. It was a hard horse-kick with my heel leading. He went down. I grabbed the gun and smashed the butt of it over his nose, crushing bone. I pulled it back and swung again, hammered him in the temple.

  Kash’s hands were free. He grabbed the gun before I could pound the unconscious man beneath me another time.

  Jace and Damien were dead. I went to their bodies, turned their heads, checked for a pulse. Kash was already disappearing through the gap in the rock to call for medical assistance.

  I took the wire Kash had stripped from his wrists and flopped Mick onto his belly, started winding it around his wrists. Frank Scullen and John Stieg were watching me, speechless, as I pulled the wire and knotted it over and over again.

  ‘I should make you arseholes free yourselves,’ I said as I went to untie them.

  Chapter 104

  THE TACTICS WERE dirty. Tox liked that. He’d pinned Regan on the carpet, tugged and twisted him up into a headlock, but the other man had got hold of a shard of the broken vase and jammed it into Tox’s forearm.

  He stumbled into the kitchen and pulled the shard from the wound, spraying blood on the cupboards. There was a kettle nearby with a curved handle. Tox grabbed it and threw it, listened to it clunk off Regan’s head. There was a wine rack by the door to the kitchen. Regan grabbed a bottle and held it by the neck like a club.

  He lunged. Tox grabbed the arm before it came down, smashing the bottle against the top edge of the fridge. He got a couple of punches in while Regan was distracted. They fell against the fridge, rattling things inside. Tox went for Regan’s throat, his thumbs gripping his windpipe, crushing tendons. Regan’s boots slipped in the wine. He was under him, between his legs. Tox grabbed a handful of shirt. Regan grabbed his ankle, brought him down, tried to crawl away while Tox recovered.

  Tox steadied himself against the kitchen counter and spied the knife block. Regan was coughing, gurgling, something in his throat broken or bent out of shape. Tox slid a knife from the block. A lean, mid-size filleting blade. Razor-sharp. He turned towards his victim. The fantasy of every mother and father with a raped daughter. The beast at your mercy, a sharp blade, his legs splayed. Tox would have to hand Regan over to the police alive. He knew that. But maybe there was something he could do to make sure the
man never raped a young woman again.

  Chapter 105

  ‘HOW MANY SPARE officers have you got?’ Kash was in the car, the phone pressed to his ear. I knew he was talking to the command chief of White Cliffs, who had loaned us officers to patrol the main street of Last Chance Valley while the people gathered. ‘I need at least two to come protect some bodies and take some suspects into custody. Can you redirect your men? No, not the one we’ve been looking for. Another one. I’ll send you the location.’

  I told Frank and John to lie on the ground, and stood at the entrance to the cave in case Mick woke and tried to come out. I didn’t expect him to. I’d knocked him pretty hard. John Stieg was crying, his head on the rocky earth. Kash came and stood by me.

  ‘Do you believe them?’ he asked. ‘About the diary?’

  ‘I do,’ I admitted.

  ‘So the town’s still in danger,’ he said.

  It was a breathless, wordless hour. And then Kash and I were back on the road, Kash driving too fast, smashing over plants and logs as we headed towards the highway. We had come so close to death. I had rushed at a gun without thinking. My mind kept trying to reassure me that I was safe, dumping calming chemicals into my veins, attempting to slow down my pulse. But we hadn’t found the diarist. We’d been wrong about Jace Robit and his crew. I only realised I was gripping the seat cushion so hard with my good hand when Kash reached over and touched my arm.

  ‘You’re making me nervous.’

  ‘Watch the road,’ I said.

  Kash swung the car onto the highway. I shifted in my seat. There was sand all through my shirt and pants, driving me nuts. I pulled my bra away from my body and dumped a load of it onto my stomach. I wriggled in my seat, trying to get it out the bottom of my jeans.

  In my left front pocket, another deposit of sand, and a small piece of paper. I pulled out the folded sheet and opened it. Switched on the overhead light. The letters were small and clunky, but I knew the handwriting right away. Had studied it closely.

  Dear Officer Blue,

  So sad you didn’t want to come away with me. I think we wold have made great partners. I’m sorry for steeling! I know it’s wrong. But its a big bad world out there and I’m gonna see it if it kills me. I’m getting out of here finelly! You’re a cool chick. See you round some time.

  Zac Taby

  ‘What is it?’ Kash asked.

  ‘Nothing.’ I wiped my face, tucked the note away. Zac must have left it before he walked out of Snale’s house, towards his doom. I’d failed him. I’d failed him.

  ‘Harry?’

  ‘It’s nothing. It’s fine. Let’s get back to town. If the killer shows his face, I want to be on him like wildfire.’

  Chapter 106

  THE TINY TOWN was lit up like a Christmas tree. People wandering towards the centre from the dark road out of town, cars parked haphazardly on the dirt. Kash and I drove through slowly, blasting the horn and shining the enormous hunting lights at dazed men in Akubras carrying bottles of beer.

  ‘Fucking Aussies,’ I said. ‘Any excuse to have a piss-up.’

  Someone was seriously threatening to kill these people, and they were coming out in force to pretend they weren’t afraid. Horns beeping, shopfronts open. I leaned over and looked at the back car park of the mechanic’s. There was no semitrailer there. That, at least, was something.

  We spied Snale telling off a couple of youths and stopped beside her. Her uniform was patched with sweat.

  ‘It’s a madhouse,’ she panted as Kash rolled down his window. She looked at us, seemed to measure the trauma on our faces. ‘What happened? Are you two alright?’

  ‘We’re OK,’ I said. ‘We’ll stash the car and come help with crowd control.’

  Kash drove on. By the edge of town, there was a streak of white in front of the vehicle. Kash slammed on the brakes. It was Bella Destro, in ridiculous high heels beneath her blue jeans, steadying herself against the asphalt with one hand, a beer bottle in the other. I got out of the car and helped her to her feet.

  ‘You’re the last person I expected to see out here,’ I said.

  ‘Woo! Detective Harriet Blue!’ She staggered, grinned at me, sweeping back her hair. ‘Look at all these people! It’s a party!’

  Kash honked the car horn, scaring us both. I dragged Bella towards the passenger side door.

  ‘I’ll drive her home. She’s off her head,’ I told Kash. ‘You meet up with the other guys, give them a hand. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  I wasn’t focused. I was sad and hurt about Zac’s letter, about the stupid young lives all around me, kids trying to run off with stolen gold, flopping on the road like wounded animals, cheering and reeking of beer. This was a maddening place. I momentarily felt so beyond rage I could hardly speak.

  I was distracted. Not thinking at all as I started driving Bella back the way we’d come, into the dark.

  Chapter 107

  IN THE CAR, she put her head against the window, the cheerful, clumsy girl I’d witnessed on the road gone. I figured she was tired. My mind was not in the car. It was back in the centre of town, where a killer was possibly planning on breaking out into a shooting spree.

  I ran through the checklist of precautions in my mind. I knew Snale and another officer had separately locked down the armoury and the ammunition caches so that even if someone managed to get through their defences, they’d waste precious time trying to get to any useful weaponry. Snale and the team in town would be doing regular check-ins. I should have taken a radio, got onto their channel. No matter. I’d be back there in minutes. We’d need to charge Stieg and Scullen when this was done. Stealing. Unlicensed mining operations on trespassed property. We needed to arrest Mick, alert the families of the dead. That wasn’t important now. I shook my head. What was important was keeping everyone safe for tonight. Even if the killer never showed their face.

  I pulled in to the Destro property and began driving up the long, lamplit driveway.

  ‘You must feel very alone,’ Bella said suddenly. I glanced at her. She was sitting with her hands in her lap, facing the house, her expression calm.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The whole thing with your brother,’ she said as I came to a stop beside the house. ‘He’s in jail. He’s got his own problems to worry about. You’re free, out here in the world, wandering around trying to get on with things. No one believes you when you say that he’s innocent.’

  My brother was the last thing I wanted to talk about. I got out of the car. Left my gun right beside her in the centre console.

  Stupid. Stupid.

  ‘No one believes you,’ she said again, looking at me as I opened the door for her. ‘It must be so isolating.’

  ‘I don’t have time for a deep and meaningful,’ I said. ‘Get out. I’ve got to go. I’m busy.’

  That was when she pointed the gun at me.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ she said.

  Chapter 108

  I WAS BEWILDERED. At first, my brain told me this was just another inconvenience on what was shaping up to be a horror of a night. I was still cursing myself for not having a radio.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ I said. ‘Put it down.’

  ‘Harriet,’ she said. Trying to wake me up. Bring me back down to Earth. ‘Focus.’

  Focus. Breathe. I was standing like an idiot in the driveway with my hands by my sides, staring at the gun, the strange, unfamiliar sight of my own weapon pointed towards me and not away. She actioned the weapon expertly, and with that sickening sound I came to.

  I looked into her eyes.

  ‘Oh no,’ I said.

  Chapter 109

  WITH THE GUN at my back I walked numbly up the driveway towards the house, too shocked to offer much resistance. I’d gone into full denial mode, a symptom of my general stress over the case and my emotional detachment after the murders earlier in the night. Cognitive dissonance, the same thing that affects soldiers, sends them wandering into no-man
’s-land under shellfire like they’re going for a Sunday stroll. This was a game. A prank by a strange drunken girl. She was going to be in a whole lot of trouble when she gave me back the gun. I was going to be in a whole lot of trouble if anyone ever found out she’d played with it. Yes, ‘played’. Because she was a girl. A young university student home to study for exams. Her major concerns would be trying to get some proper study time in without wasting the entire vacation watching bad TV and chatting on Facebook.

  She showed me into the dining room where just days earlier I had sat with her father and listened to her pick at him about racism in small towns. Dez was sitting in one of the dining-room chairs, as he had been on that day. But he was decidedly less comfortable in the seat than he had been before. A line of duct tape started at his shoulders and wound around and around the chair and his body, over his round belly, now and then splitting to reveal the cloth and buttons of his sweat-drenched shirt. The duct tape around his mouth was so tight his cheeks were swelling purple under the wild eyes that watched me enter the room.

  Of course. The massacre plan had said ‘Kill Officer Snale’, but ‘Get John Destro’. Snale was only an obstacle. She could be disposed of easily. But this man was the focus. He was the catalyst for it all. He wouldn’t be killed right away. Not until he had fulfilled his purpose.