Gith

by Else, Chris

  Hemi raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

  'And that shows that whoever it was is a local,' I went on. 'Somebody who knows the sort of bloke Moss is.'

  'There is another explanation,' Hemi said.

  'What?'

  'The bra's a trophy thing. He likes to have it there. He can just go along and see it hanging in the tree and remind himself. Without having to go and stomp round disturbing stuff.'

  'You think that?'

  He shrugged. 'Don't know, bro. All I know is, there isn't another suspect except Moss at this stage.' He was quiet for a second, and then he let out a big breath of air. I couldn't figure out what he was thinking. He sounded like the world was getting at him. Or maybe it was just me. I thought maybe I ought to ease up on him a bit.

  'Sorry,' I said.

  'No sweat.'

  'There's something else we need to talk to you about. What happened last Saturday. Gith and I want to take it further.'

  He looked at me. 'You sure?'

  'Bloody right. Those bastards shouldn't get away with it.'

  'No,' he said, 'you're right. We'll need you to make a statement. More important, we need one from Gith. Unless you want to go the route that she's not capable of making one.'

  'Bugger that.'

  We looked at her.

  'Okay?' I asked her.

  'Gith.'

  'It could take a while,' I told Hemi.

  'Sooner the better.'

  'How about she and I put something together and get it to you. Would that do?'

  He looked at me like he was going to say no but he didn't.

  'It'd be a start, bro.'

  ***

  THE NEXT DAY we got a visit from Ma. She hugged us both even though we were none too clean. She hung on a bit longer than usual too.

  'Does Dad know you're here?' I asked.

  'No. Don't worry about him. He'll come round.'

  She sat down at the table and I made her a cup of tea.

  'Well,' I said, 'it's nice that one member of the family manages to come and visit.'

  'Don't be bitter. It never does any good.'

  'The way I see it, Gith and I are no different from how we were two weeks ago. So why is everyone suddenly treating us like we've got a disease?'

  'You know why.'

  I guess I did. On some level. It was easy for the two of us, locked in our own little world. Other people had other points of view, some of which I might have shared myself once.

  'We can't help it,' I said. 'It's not going to change.'

  Gith stood up and came to me, put her arm around my shoulders. I hugged her to me. Ma looked at us for a second and sighed. She sipped her tea.

  'Family's family,' she said.

  'We're thinking of moving. Getting out of here,' I told her.

  'Oh dear. Well, I can't say I blame you. Just don't be too hasty, that's all, eh?'

  ***

  THERE WERE TWO other members of the family who hadn't totally turned against us. Len and Kath had more important things to worry about. Len was moving to the hospice in Palmy and Kath was going with him to stay there until the end. Gith and I shut up shop for a few minutes and went over to say goodbye. I carried Len to the car. He weighed nothing. Kath stowed the bags in the boot and then handed me a set of keys for the house. Gith and I hugged her.

  'Give us a call if you need anything.' I pointed towards our place. 'You know, anything you might have forgotten. We can always run down with it.'

  'Thanks, love.'

  Gith had tears in her eyes.

  Kath hugged her again. 'Don't worry, we're okay. He's settled in his mind now. It's brought us really close together in a way.'

  We waved as they drove off. Then we went inside and made sure everything was secure. The place felt empty and cold and lonely and it was good to get outside again into the garden, where the bees were working hard in the summer flowers. We walked back to work.

  I gave Gith the keys. 'You take these up to the house,' I said, 'and I'll open up again.'

  'Gith.'

  It was a slow day and I spent a lot of it thinking about Len and Kath. That evening, though, I said maybe we should start work on Gith's statement for Hemi. We sat down at the kitchen table with a pad and pen. I started to ask questions and when I got a yes I'd try and turn it into something Gith thought was right. We didn't get far.

  'You drove back here from Ma and Dad's place?'

  'Gith.'

  'What time? Was it dark when you left?'

  'Narg.'

  'Was it dark when you got here?'

  'Neely.'

  'That's good,' I said. 'You driving in the dark. Weren't you scared?'

  'Bit.'

  'Then what did you do?'

  'Walk.' She made little walking moves with her fingers.

  'Where?' I had to ask the question. 'To Brenda's?'

  She didn't answer, just stared at me. I felt again what an idiot I had been.

  'Saw,' she said. 'Curtain. Window.' I could see the anger coming back, the feelings building in her again. It wasn't going to be Brenda pth this time.

  'Jesus, Gith. I'm . . .'

  'Aargh!' she yelled and she went for me, thumping at me with both fists. She knocked my glasses half off but I managed to grab her and hold her still. After a few seconds we both relaxed and I let her go.

  'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I truly am. It was just . . .' I had no reasons. I just felt bad that I could ever make her feel any kind of pain.

  She closed her eyes, the long brown lashes folding down, and I remembered all those hours I had spent watching her in hospital. Slowly, two tears eased out from the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  'We don't need to do this,' I said, shoving the paper away. 'Not now.'

  She pushed back her chair and stood up, looked at me in a way I couldn't read. She wasn't angry now, just kind of sad. She walked away. I sat there for a while, thinking how dumb I had been, feeling just how much I needed her. There just wasn't anything or anyone that mattered more to me.

  After a while I went to see where she was. I thought maybe she would be in her own room but she had gone to my bed. I lay down beside her and reached out to her.

  'Hug,' she said.

  ***

  ON SATURDAY WE took the Riley for a run to Tapanahu, purring along at a steady sixty mph on the open road. We had lunch in the little place next to Founders Park and came back mid-afternoon. I had hoped the trip would put Anneke Hesse out of my head but it didn't. After Pita had gone and I'd cashed up, we sat on the verandah and I started to talk about it again.

  'If it was Kocher,' I said, 'he must have taken her somewhere before he dumped her on Moss's place. Where did he go? His house? There'd be evidence there, then. And it must have been his house — where else could it have been? Unless he took her up to the lake the back way. Or straight to that patch of bush. That would've been a big risk though. Too big.' I thought for a little while, turning it over. 'And that's funny, eh. The risk thing. It's almost like he had the whole thing planned out — dumping the body on Moss's farm, planting that hair in Moss's wagon. And yet it must have been spur of the moment. I mean, he didn't plan to have her get into his vehicle that Monday — it just happened.'

  Gith raised her arms like she was pointing a gun.

  'Pag.'

  'He shot her?' I didn't get it.

  She shook her head. No. Then she made a snorting sound.

  Pig. Gun. Hunting.

  'You mean it's like hunting. You know what you're going to do but it's just luck then, when it happens.'

  'Gith.' She nodded.

  'Yes, but people don't usually go hunting on their own, do they? It's much better if . . .'

  Jesus, I thought. That's weird. Why the hell were we thinking it was one person? Why not two? Wyett and Kocher. They were mates. It was Kocher in Wyett's van. And I knew Wyett was a bastard, the way he'd treated that woman in Katawai. He liked to hurt people. So Kocher picked her up and took her back
to his place, and he called Wyett and they did whatever they did and took her up to Moss's farm. How, though? Not in that Starlet — or the van either. A Pajero could do it though. What say Parline was in on it too? The three of them, thick as thieves. Somehow that package seemed more important than ever. Suddenly I felt nervous about it. It needed to be in a safer place.

  I went into the bedroom and reached up to the top of the wardrobe. The duffle-bag was gone. A second of panic but then I figured it had to be Gith.

  'That bag with the package in it, did you move it?' I asked her.

  'Gith.'

  'Where is it?'

  She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the keys to Len and Kath's house. All right, I thought. That's fair enough.

  'What about tea?' I asked.

  'Narg,' she said. 'Pup.'

  'I don't want to go to the pub.'

  'Nar, nar.' She tapped herself on the chest. 'Me. Pup.'

  'You want to go to the pub?' I couldn't believe it.

  'Gith.'

  And why not? I thought. No more hiding, right?

  'Well, I'd better come too.'

  'Gith.'

  It was still light but the sky in the west was turning orange. We walked the length of the main drag arm in arm. There were no kids outside Dong's place but there were a few other people about, including Susie Smeele, who was taking in her street sign.

  'Hi,' I said as we passed. 'Nice evening.'

  'Hi.' She looked a bit surprised. I could feel her staring after us as we walked on.

  There were only two smokers outside the door of the back bar. They moved apart to let us pass.

  'Evening,' I said.

  'Gidday, Ken,' one of them said.

  I opened the door to the bar. Gith went in first. We stood there, looking round. It took about four seconds for the hush to come down and the eyes to swing towards us.

  'What do you want to drink?' I asked.

  'Beer,' she said.

  'You sure?' She never drank alcohol.

  'Gith.'

  'Okay.' I wasn't at all sure.

  We crossed to the bar. Lofty Gunning was serving.

  'Gidday,' I said. 'I'll have a jug and two glasses.'

  He looked at me. 'How old is she?'

  'She,' I said, 'is twenty-three. You want to see her driver's licence?'

  'Sorry, mate. Have to ask. Okay?'

  He served us. The buzz of talk had lifted again. I guessed they were all talking about us. Except for Mark and Tom and Monty, who were staring in our direction. Monty waved us over.

  'Long time no see,' Tom Kittering said. 'Glad you changed your mind.'

  'Hello, little lady.' Monty held out his hand. Gith shook it.

  'Hi,' she said, smiling. Then she shook with the other two. Tom grinned, showing lots of teeth. Mark looked kind of awkward.

  I poured Gith a beer, watched as she took a mouthful, waiting to see what she thought of the taste. Nothing.

  'Cheers,' I said. The five of us clinked glasses. I looked round the bar. I guess it was about half full. No sign of Ray Tackett or any of his mates. I felt looks from the other tables coming our way, but most people were pretending they didn't care.

  The talk wasn't easy. Having a woman at the table was bad enough, especially for somebody like Mark, but this was even tougher. We stared at one another.

  Tom cleared his throat, 'Well . . .'

  'Me,' Gith said. 'Pup. Never.'

  'She's never been in a pub before,' I told them.

  Mark laughed. 'Bloody hell! And you picked this place to start?'

  She pointed down the room at the TV screen up on the wall. There was a basketball game going on.

  'Thooty,' she said. 'Thoon.'

  'Footy,' I said, translating. 'When's the game?'

  'About an hour,' Monty said. 'Hurricanes and Crusaders.'

  'Go Cruthaders,' she said. I could see the grin she was trying to hide. 'Go Richie.'

  'Better not say that too loud,' Tom told her. 'Not round here.'

  'They're all Hurricanes fans,' Mark added.

  But that pretty much did it. Monty said something else about the game and the talk started to roll. Pretty soon, and who knows how, we were on to the question of facial eczema, spore counts and whether or not there was a difference between Monty's place in Pakenga Valley and Mark's further up the main road towards Tapanahu. Gith just listened, sipped her beer with the littlest sips I've ever seen. In half an hour she'd drunk a spoonful. By then we were arguing about Simon Ingrest's new scheme for a quiz night at the pub.

  'Fifty-dollar bar tab, they reckon,' Tom said.

  'Bloody nonsense,' Monty told him.

  'We could put up a team.'

  'For what? A bloody quiz?'

  'Why not?' Tom turned to me. 'You'd be in, wouldn't you, Ken?'

  'Narg,' Gith said, pushing me on the arm. 'Dumb.'

  They laughed.

  'No,' Tom said. 'He'd be good. We could get questions about cars. Or movies. You watch a lot of movies, eh?'

  'Never remember them though,' I said. 'That's good in a way. I can see the same one twice and it's fresh as new.'

  Tom turned to Monty. 'Seriously, though. You're a knowledgeable bloke. You're one of these Internet whizzes, aren't you?'

  'What's that got to do with anything?'

  'Knowledge,' Tom said.

  'Porn,' Mark said. And he looked at me.

  'Cut it out,' Monty told him.

  I didn't hear any more because I suddenly felt Gith go tense. Ray Tackett had just stepped through the door. He was with Wayne Wyett. She had been waiting for him, I could see. Now what?

  Nothing happened for maybe ten seconds and then she put down her glass. 'Thcuthe,' she said, and turned away from the table.

  I could feel the hush come down again as people figured out what was going to happen. Tackett and Wyett had got themselves jugs and had picked out an empty table. Gith walked right up to them.

  'Hi,' she said.

  They looked up, stared at her. Wyett had a silly grin on his face, showing two rows of rotten teeth, but Tackett looked kind of worried. She turned to him.

  'Bobby,' she said. 'Nithe boy. Good boy. Okay?'

  He didn't answer. He was staring in a weird way like she'd totally floored him.

  'Me.' She tapped her forehead five or six times. 'Head. Thtuffed.' Then she made the yapping moves with her fingers and tapped again. 'Talk. Thtuffed. Bobby okay. Nithe boy.'

  'Yeah,' said Tackett. 'Thanks.'

  She held out her hand. He shook it.

  'I think she's saying we should let it go,' I said.

  'Yeah,' he said. 'She's right.' He held out his hand and I remembered the last time we had shaken. He wasn't grinning now though. He seemed dead serious.

  'Good,' I said.

  'Whooo-hoo!' Wyett laughed. 'Ain't that cute. All loveydovey.'

  Gith turned to him. 'You,' she said. 'Dickhead.'

  'Hey, you little cunt . . .' He made a move to come at her but she got in first. Both hands in a big push on his chest. He went back with the force. One hand on a bar stool to stop himself falling.

  'Aaargh!' she screamed at him.

  He was struggling upright, trying to get at her. Tackett grabbed him.

  'Leave it!' he yelled.

  'Little bitch . . .'

  Wyett was still struggling but Tackett was a lot stronger than he was.

  'Shut the fuck up,' Tackett told him. 'She's right. You're a dickhead.' He turned to Gith. 'Sorry,' he said. He sounded like he meant it.

  Now Simon Ingrest was there. And a few punters moving in to support him.

  'It's okay,' Tackett told him. 'Everything's cool.'

  'We're going,' I said.

  Simon nodded. 'I think that's a good idea.'

  We headed for the door.

  'Watch yourself, Fat Boy!' Wyett shouted after me.

  Outside, Gith bounced down the steps and did a twirl in the car park. She was laughing.

 
'Wait for me,' I called to her.

  'Pth!' She spread both arms wide and started to run. I let her go.

  She was way ahead of me when something moved to my right among the parked cars.

  'Mr McUrran, sir.'

  Oh shit. I stopped. 'What do you want?'

  Billy shuffled up to me, wriggled his shoulders. 'Something to report, sir. That other man. He has a dog. A black and white dog. And a white van. Toyota Hiace. Number . . .'

  'I know all that.'

  'Sorry, sir. Only trying to help.'

  'Look,' I said, 'just bugger off. Leave me alone. Please.'

  'Please? Nobody has ever said please to me in years and years. And nobody's ever said thank you neither. So thank you, Mr McUrran. Sir.' Billy's eyes moved away somewhere to my right. Suddenly he was tense. He turned and shuffled off. Fast.

  Rick Parline was walking towards me across the car park.

  'What the fuck are you talking to him for?' he said, stopping in front of me.

  'I wasn't. I . . .'

  'Someone told me you were mates with him. I thought that was bullshit.'

  'No mate of mine,' I said, 'but I hear he works for Ray Tackett.' I stepped past him, walked away. I didn't look back.

  11

  SOMETHING WOKE ME. A thump. I felt it and heard it. It woke Gith too, stirring beside me. It was twelve-sixteen by the bedside clock. We lay there in the dark, tense and listening. Another thump. Huge, this time, right on the outside wall of the bedroom. Gith made a little scared noise.

  'Get dressed,' I said. 'Be quick.' And a thought. 'Leave the light off.'

  We were out of bed, feeling around for our clothes. Suddenly there was a hammering on the front door and a voice. 'Open up! Open up in the name of the law!'

  I went out into the hallway. I could see a shadow out there, against the glass. It didn't look like a cop. As I watched, it seemed to double over. Somebody pissing themselves laughing. Gith was there beside me, her eyes wide. You bastards, I thought. I knew why they were there.

  'They've come for that package,' I said.

  A smash of breaking glass from the bedroom. Gith screamed. Another voice, then, calling through the broken window.

  'McUrran! I want to talk to you.'

  A voice I didn't know. The rifle was still in the living room. I grabbed it and slammed the magazine in, flicked off the safety. Gith was in the hallway, curled into a ball with her arms around her head.