The Celibate Mouse

by Hockley, Diana

  Stop screaming and get help.

  CHAPTER 41

  In the Nick of Time

  Marli & Brittany

  Sunday: late morning.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ shouted Marli, as her sister pulled on a red anorak and grabbed her bag, preparing to follow their mother’s car. ‘Mum said we had to go straight to Mrs Winslow’s and she’d ring us there. I’ll tell!’ she finished childishly.

  ‘Well, go on, ring Da-vid! Be a sneak,’ snapped Brittany. Marli, frantically punching her father’s mobile number into her phone, didn’t reply. Brittany ran down the hallway, knee-deep in dogs and fell over the puppy, who let out a series of pitiful yelps. Marli rushed out of their room. ‘You didn’t have to do that!’ she screeched angrily.

  ‘I didn’t mean to!’ The wind snatched Brittany’s voice away as she pelted down the steps. Marli one-handedly thrust all the dogs into the kitchen, almost screaming with frustration as the metallic voice announced her father’s phone was switched off or out of range. She raced for the side verandah, in time to see Brittany backing her car out of the shed.

  ‘She’ll recognise your car, you idiot!’ she yelled to her sister.

  ‘Oh shit.’ Brittany was nonplussed, before she remembered their cousin, Ally’s car, which was started regularly to keep the battery charged. She turned off the motor, grabbed her bag, leapt out and ran back into the shed, glancing over her shoulder. Their mother’s car had turned onto the main road, heading for Ipswich. She scrabbled for the keys which were kept under the driver’s seat. She had just backed out and turned around when Marli came running out of the house again, dragging on a windcheater, dilly bag hanging off her arm.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ she screamed, wrenching the passenger-side door open to hurl herself in.

  ‘Pooh, you smell of wet dog!’ Brittany put her foot on the accelerator. A steady electronic peeping distracted Marli, who dived into Brittany’s bag and took out her mobile phone.

  ‘What’s this doing?’

  ‘Gimme–’ Brittany reached over, took it out of Marli’s hand, pressed some buttons and handed it back. Marli’s eyes widened, as she looked at the road map displayed on the screen. A small red dot travelled along the road to town.

  ‘That’s Mum’s car!’ announced Brittany, peering through the windscreen into the driving sleet which deflected off the wipers. ‘Tell me if she turns off.’

  Fascinated in spite of her disapproval, Marli watched the red dot move up the screen. ‘Is this legal?’ she asked nervously.,

  ‘Sandy uses one!’

  ‘Sandy has a license to use one and look out for speed cameras,’ Marli replied.

  The sisters maintained a cranky silence until they reached the city and began to negotiate the traffic, when Marli flipped her phone open again and began to text.

  ‘Who are you texting?’ Brittany snapped, exasperated by the slowness of the traffic.

  ‘Dad. I have a nasty feeling about that phone call mum got. She’s already been attacked and he needs to know. He’s in town this morning, so he won’t be far away!’

  Brittany’s smirk, worn for the duration of the trip, vanished immediately. Their father had told Marli where he was going, but didn’t think she had a right to know? Jealousy flared. ‘Mum’s not really in danger. Like, it’s broad daylight? Come on, Marls, get real!’ she growled, but a slight tremor in her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

  The red dot stopped in front of what appeared to be a park, thirty metres ahead.

  ‘She wouldn’t meet someone here! Like, it’s freezing outside?’ Brittany peered through the sleet. Their mother’s Renault was three cars away, but there was no sign of her. They moaned in unison, thinking they’d have to drive endlessly around the block, but suddenly a car pulled out in front of them. Ignoring the horns blasting behind them, Brittany swooped into the parking space.

  ‘Mum’s gone into that building.’ Marli pointed to the back of the park. ‘I can’t see what it is though ...someone’s let her in.’

  ‘You stay here.’ Brittany pushed the car door against the wind, wrestled briefly and stepped out, hunched against the cold.

  Marli tried their father’s number again; to her utmost relief, he answered. ‘Dad! A woman rang mum and said for her to come into town because she had something to tell her about the murders. Mum’s just gone into a house at the back of the garden. The woman let her in.’

  ‘Where are you?’ he asked, urgently. Marli heard the sounds of traffic in the background.

  ‘On Athertons Street, just before the mall. We’re parked beside a garden. She’s gone into a place like an old house in the back corner amongst a lot of oleander bushes. Can’t see what it is from here!’ She went on to describe the building.

  ‘Bloody hell! Stay out of there! We’re on our way to–’ The signal broke up. Marli shook the phone impatiently. Her father’s voice came back, loud and clear. ‘What are you doing?’

  Marli made herself keep her voice level. If she sounded reasonable, her father mightn’t actually kill them for spying on their mother. ‘Brit has a thing some bloke gave her at the party the other night. A GSP tracking device,’ she explained, reading the caption on the leaflet which Brittany had tucked into her phone cover. ‘She put the tracker under Mum’s car and we’ve been following it on Brit’s mobile. I’m scared something’s wrong. Wouldn’t the woman tell the Ipswich police if she was ... genuine? And how did she know who mum is?’

  ‘Stay where you are. Don’t follow your mother into the building. It’s dangerous! We’ve just discovered–’ his voice vanished again. Marli could have screamed with frustration. ‘Dad!’

  ‘–murderer, so stay away where you are, Marli!’

  The call dropped out before she could tell him Brit was already pushing into the shrubbery near one of the windows. Marli snapped her phone shut and leaned forward to keep her sister’s red windcheater in sight. She forced her door open and lurched around the front of the car, cannoning into the parking meter.

  ‘Oh God, we haven’t put the money in!’ she cried, holding her breastbone where she’d smacked against the metal. Fighting tears, she scrabbled in her pocket for change, slammed money in and ran across the garden, straining to see her sister. As she reached the clump of bushes, Brittany appeared with a brick in her hand, swung her arm back and threw the brick through the window. When the glass stopped falling into the room beyond, she whipped her coat off, threw it over the sill, grabbed the ledge and hauled herself through, head first.

  As her sister’s legs disappeared, Marli hoisted herself up to the windowsill and looked inside. It was a study, with papers blowing all over the place. Her sister scrambled to her feet and waved her arms urgently.

  ‘He’s got mum! Ring dad!’ She cast around desperately, then ran to the fireplace, snatched up the poker and ran from the room.

  Marli called their father again. ‘Dad, a man’s got Mum! Brit smashed a window and she’s gone after them!’

  ‘For chrissakes, I told you to stay where you are. We’re almost there, stay put!’

  She could hear sirens in the distance, and nearby someone was emitting hear-splitting shrieks. Mum? She scrambled over the ledge and fell head first into the room. Sounds of a struggle came from somewhere in the depths of the building. Casting around her for a weapon she spotted the doorstop.

  She blundered into the hallway, staggering under the heavy iron weight, past a large empty room with stacked chairs along one wall. The sound of crockery smashing and screaming got louder. She reached the kitchen, gasping for breath.

  A big man was rolling over and over on the floor, trying to strangle her mother. Her mum’s head was tucked into the man’s chest, her hands gripping his ears. His face was contorted into a hideous, wide-mouthed scream. His eyes bulged. Her sister was whacking his back with the fire tongs. A strange young woman was backed against the sink, screaming.

  Marli darted into the room, skirted around the bodies on the floor and smashed the doo
rstop down on the back of the man’s head.

  CHAPTER 42

  Delivered from Evil

  Susan

  Sunday: mid morning.

  A familiar face looms over me. What’s David doing here?

  Then–Marli’s voice?

  ‘Mum, mum!’

  ‘Wha–?’

  ‘Mum, it’s us!’

  My eyes refuse to focus at first, but then I zero in on their shocked, ashen faces. Blue uniformed legs are all around me. A ring of faces stare down, reminding me incongruously, of Jack Harlow lying dead in the middle of the showground.

  The faces give way to paramedics, who crouch over me, bringing out their tools of trade.

  ‘Are you in pain?’ What do you think? I’ve been scalped!

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  Behind them, David appears, face twisted with anxiety. Brittany and Marli are sheltering under his armpits. I watch him unpeel them from his person and pass them over to a policewoman, before kneeling beside me. His hands shake as he touches my face. I am not badly hurt, but detachment holds me in a dreamlike state. ‘Susan, thank God. If it wasn’t for the girls, we couldn’t have gotten to you in time.’ He glances at the medics and asks if I can get up.

  ‘In a moment. We haven’t finished examining her,’ they say firmly, poking my ribs and running their fingers across my scalp. Strands of my hair are stuck to a medic’s fingers. My head aches and rivulets of fire are searing my scalp. Once they pronounce themselves satisfied I’m alive, David takes my hands and assists me to stand. My legs buckle, but he swoops me off my feet and carries me out of the house to a bench beside the front door.

  ‘You know what I have to do. Constable–would you take my wi–Detective Senior Sergeant Prescott and her –our–daughters back to the station?’ The policewoman by the door looks at me solicitously. ‘Ma’am, I’ll have a car brought around.’ She calls for a patrol car and the girls and I are handed into the back seat as though we are princesses. Marli wails about Ally’s car being on a meter. I don’t give a damn about mine; let the parking inspectors do their worst. A uniformed officer asks for our car keys and details. ‘My handbag’s back in there–somewhere–’ I say, vaguely. ‘Study, I think. Coat too.’

  ‘I left mine in the car,’ says Brit.

  ‘I locked it,’ Marli contributes, ‘but I lost my bag.’

  Having been assured my colleagues would sort everything, we huddle together in the back of the squad car all the way to the station.

  ***

  Sunday: early afternoon, at the police station

  ‘Mum, did you know he was the murderer?’ asks Marli, as we sit in the client’s lounge, sipping hot chocolate. I’m finding it hard to drink and talk, my stomach and ribs ache and my scalp is raw. Brit is in a trance, not able to do anything, much less abuse anyone.

  ‘No, I have to admit I didn’t, but I have an idea why.’ I sift through my theories. The girls watch me, round-eyed.

  ‘Well, why?’ asked Brittany, taking a sip of her hot drink.

  ‘I suspect that all his life he’s been driven by ambition and just when his goal is within his grasp, an old family scandal threatens his future career.’

  Deep, burning hatred, waiting to come out, like acid DNA.

  ‘Briony Feldman, Sir Arthur’s biographer, is digging into the family archives so he couldn’t have it come out. None of them could. Trouble is, deep down the perpetrator is unstable and probably a psychopath, unfortunately for his victims.’

  Marli screws up her face. ‘Who is he then? I’ve never seen him before.’

  ‘His name is–’

  David walks into the canteen, accompanied by his partner, Senior Sergeant Peter Hensen. They are smiling and looking very pleased with themselves.

  Marli jumps to her feet, looking distraught. ‘Is he dead? Did I kill him?’

  ‘No. But he’s going to have a terrible headache!’ David beams, as they sit with us. ‘Brit, you saved your mother’s life by swinging a brick through the window. You forced him to drag her away from his study and that slowed him down. And Marli, if you hadn’t stopped him when you did–’

  He shakes his head. ‘John Glenwood remembered who he was going to see when he was attacked and run off the road and Pete discovered that the–’ words appear to fail him. ‘He was a sharp-shooter in the forces in 1960s in the UK, Queens Medal no less. No problem for him to pick off Harlow, in spite of his age. Just that warranted bringing him in. We interviewed Lily earlier this morning and discovered he’s Kathleen’s son, the one she had to Bob Jellicott. He’s a lot older than he looks–63. Ferna and her first husband brought him up as theirs. He’s actually Daniella’s half-brother. He had a lot to lose if the authorities discovered he had an uncle and a grandfather who were murderers, so he had a two-fold purpose in shooting Jack, but I’ll tell you about that later.’ His eyes flick to the girls.

  ‘Well, it explains his desperation,’ I say, wearily.

  ‘I don’t know how he could do that to Edna, though, poor old girl. Jack Harlow I might be able to understand,’ David finishes grimly.

  ‘But, dad, who is he?’ insists Marli. Even Brittany is curious.

  ‘Oh, it’s–’

  The door swings open. ‘Detective Inspector Maguire!’

  The Chief Superintendent has arrived to pay his respects.

  CHAPTER 43

  Unfinished Business

  Susan

  Sunday: evening.

  Endless dark, tumbling over and over, staring face, maniacal eyes. Hands and arms are crushing me, can’t hold him back. A knife flashing and Danny’s–killing me. Someone’s screaming but he’s tied my legs–

  ‘Susan! Susan! It’s all right. You’re safe!’

  My eyes fly open, blinking in the light from the bedside lamp. David’s face comes into focus. My legs are tangled in the blankets; I’m sure my heart rate can be measured in thousands. My nightie is wet with perspiration, my mouth swollen, my stomach muscles twang like guitar strings and meat ants are taking chunks out of my scalp.

  David is still dressed in the clothes he wore today, or was it yesterday? One of the lounge chairs is in the corner of my bedroom with a blanket thrown aside, where he’s been camping while I sleep. He helps me to sit up and holds a glass of water for me to sip. The cold liquid feels good going down my throat.

  ‘You’ve had a nightmare. Not surprising under the circumstances,’ he says.

  ‘How are the girls?’

  ‘They’re sleeping in my bed covered in dogs. You were the only one having a bad night.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Now my throat is lubricated, my voice is almost back to normal.

  ‘Nearly midnight’

  ‘It’s not every day I almost get murdered. Twice in one week is over-doing things.’

  ‘You can say that again.’ David pulls the blanket up around my shoulders then takes the one off the lounge chair. He adjusts the spare pillows, stretches out beside me and flips the blanket over himself.

  When we came back from the city earlier this afternoon, exhaustion claimed me for its own. David had gone back to sort out the aftermath of the attack on me and a middle-aged constable had stayed with us until he returned in the early evening. I had showered, climbed into bed and slept until dinner when I had crawled out of bed, drunk some soup and gone straight back to sleep. ‘What’s been happening?’ I asked, wide-awake and interested.

  ‘The phone’s been running hot. Daniella Winslow gave me a message for you. She was very surprised when she found out what you do for a living, but sends her love and wants you to lunch with her next week.’

  ‘Oh? I’m surprised she still wants to be friends.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she? It’s not your fault Jack and Edna were murdered. Your mother rang. ‘He rolls his eyes, so I can imagine how convivial that conversation was. ‘She heard about the attack on you and the arrest on the six o’clock news. And Melanie, Evan Taylor, everyone from your team, the Chief Super from Brisbane and
-oh, I’ve got a list here of your friends for you. They all phoned. You can read it in the morning.’ He smiles. ‘So you’ve got plenty to look forward to, especially lunch with Daniella.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I’m going to be here next week.’ Don’t be stupid, Susan, you have nowhere else to go. The house is Brisbane is being sold, remember?

  ‘Aren’t you?’ he asks, surprised. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’

  ‘I still have lots of leave, but so far my house-sitting hasn’t been what I expected.’

  He laughs. ‘You can say that again. Oh, and Briony Feldman rang to invite the girls on an expedition to Toowoomba in the morning. I told them to go, because the quicker they’re back to normal, the better and it will get them away from the media. They’re delighted. Something about the quality of the op shops up on the range.’

  I’m grateful to Briony for giving them a treat.

  ‘All in all, you’ve had rough day,’ he said, quietly.

  We were checked over by a police doctor to make sure we were all in one piece before we left town. The girls were, thank goodness, unharmed. I was sore and battered and my lips swelled within a few minutes of being punched, giving me a spectacular trout-mouth. The girls dictated their statements to a young, patient constable, whose ears turned red whenever he made eye contact with them. ‘But why would he go mad and, like, kill everybody?’ Brittany asked, amazed. ‘He’s supposed to believe in God. But he killed people!’ She shuddered.

  ‘Brit, it’s a long story which I’ll tell you soon, but not right now. The media will be a howling mob, so you’d better brace yourself for lots of publicity.’

  Marli pulled a face. ‘Will they come out to the farm?’ she asked.

  ‘I think your father will make sure they don’t get to the house,’ I replied wearily. For once, Brit didn’t sneer and correct me.

  We were a subdued group as David drove us back to Emsberg. Our cars were in the police holding yard to be collected later. The girls were exhausted and in shock, wrapped around each other like two koalas. My mouth was too sore to talk. David reached out and took my hand as he drove.