‘You’re not planning on rushing them, are you?’ said Nathan.
‘No,’ said Arbor. ‘No way. That’s a sure way to make things worse. I just want to see what’s going on.’
He could hear them long before he could see them. He could hear Jenny, her voice raised. She had ignored his directions and had left the house.
‘Just fuck off,’ he heard her say. ‘This is private property. You’re not welcome.’
He could hear Hogg, too. The man sounded remarkably calm.
‘I’m surprised at you, Jenny Martin. I thought you might have more sense. I knew your dad. He wasn’t the sort to get involved in business that wasn’t his own. Why don’t you go back inside the house, close your blinds and leave little miss Paki to us?’
‘Yeah, and that’ll happen. You’ll have to go through me first.’
‘If you insist.’
Suddenly Arbor looked at Nathan. He had heard it, too. A gunshot.
‘Fuck.’
They raced towards the house.
The scene reminded Arbor of something else, maybe the aftermath of some Western duel, maybe the Gunfight at the OK Corral. Henry Hogg was writhing on the ground. His two cousins were cowering near their vehicles. Rifles lay on the ground. Amira and Jenny were standing steely-eyed by the house, Jenny with her own rifle at her hip.
‘She fucking shot me!’ howled Hogg.
‘She’s fucking crazy,’ said one of the cousins, Arbor didn’t know which.
‘Nathan,’ Arbor said, tossing him the cuffs. ‘Pick up those rifles. And handcuff those two together.’
Nathan completed the task with relish. Arbor slowly prised the rifle from Jenny’s grasp. She was shaking.
‘Are you all right?’ he said.
‘I am now.’
‘Amira?’
‘Yes. I’m okay.’
The girl raced to Jenny and held her tight.
‘We’re going inside,’ said Jenny.
‘Yeah, you do that. We can take it from here.’
‘Thanks, Danny,’ said Jenny.
‘For what?’ Arbor replied. ‘You had it well sorted.’
‘Come on!’ shouted Hogg. ‘I’m dying here.’
Arbor took a closer look. A .22 round to the thigh. Through and through.
‘You’ll survive,’ he said. ‘I’ll call the doctor.’
He took out his phone and called Doc Phillips. He’d be half an hour, said the doctor. He was lancing a boil. Take your time, said Arbor. There was no hurry.
‘You’ve got nothing on me,’ said Hogg. ‘I want her arrested.’
‘Yeah, in your dreams,’ said Arbor. ‘Your son as good as told me what you did. You’re for the drop, Hogg. A race hate crime. You’ll get thirty years. You’ll be an old, old man before you see Chatton again.’
‘It wasn’t a race thing. It was …’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m saying nothing. You’ve got nothing.’
‘Yeah, okay,’ said Arbor. ‘You just keep telling yourself that.’
By the time O’Reilly arrived, Hogg’s whimpering had just about subsided. But when he saw the sergeant, he started up again, whining first like a wounded animal and then like an outraged child.
‘You need to do something about your people, O’Reilly,’ he hollered. ‘This young bloke … He’s out of control. He’s letting people take the law into their own hands.’
O’Reilly saw the blood on Hogg’s leg and smiled.
‘Did you …?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Arbor. ‘It was Jenny.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said O’Reilly. ‘We’ll sort it out later. You’ve called the doctor?’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Arbor.
O’Reilly surveyed the scene.
‘I’m not sure what all the drama was about,’ he said. ‘You seem to have it well in hand. Those Jones boys came bursting into the station like it was a zombie apocalypse … You’ve got the goods on them?’
‘I think so, Sarge.’
‘You’d better hope so. It’s your first collar. And it’s a big one. It had better stick.’
‘It’ll stick,’ said Arbor. ‘I’ll make it stick.’ He wouldn’t let the sergeant’s doubts spoil the moment.
‘Hey, Danny,’ shouted Nathan. ‘The cavalry’s here.’
The Commodore was sliding off the Melton road like something from a sitcom. It pulled up in a cloud of dust. Burke and Cole emerged, weapons drawn.
‘Relax, ladies,’ said O’Reilly. ‘The young guns have it all in hand.’
‘What happened?’ asked Burke.
‘You’ll read it in his report,’ said the sergeant, walking to his car. ‘You’ll read all about it in his report.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Burke. ‘This is still our case. It always has been. Any arrests happening here, we’ll be making them.’
‘That suits me just fine,’ said Arbor. He waited for Nathan and they entered the house together.
‘Wankers,’ said Nathan. ‘Total wankers.’
‘You’re telling me,’ said Arbor.
Jenny and Amira were sitting in the lounge, talking in hushed tones.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Jenny.
‘Ah, we’ve got Starsky and Hutch out there taking charge,’ said Arbor. ‘Never mind. It’ll all be okay. Hogg all but admitted to me what he did to Salim. So did his son. And the way they invaded your property, armed and all … Their threats … I don’t think we’ve anything to worry about. I’m sure the Ds will want to talk to you shortly, but …’
‘I shot him, Danny,’ said Jenny. ‘I actually shot him.’
‘Yeah, well done with that,’ said Arbor. ‘Look, everything will be fine. You were protecting yourself. Okay?’
There was a line somewhere that he knew he shouldn’t cross. But stuff it, he thought. He sat beside her and put his arm around her, offering her some comfort. It was not a policeman’s role, he thought, but it was the role of a friend and lover.
TUESDAY
With all the skill that comes with experience, Burke and Cole kicked Arbor to the kerb and laid their own claims to cracking the Salim Rashid murder case. They crossed all the t’s, dotted all the i’s, and had Henry, Jim and Phil Hogg all charged with murder. Harry ‘Hoggy’ Hogg was charged as an accessory after the fact. Thanks to Arbor’s compassion, Dotty Hogg escaped without charge. But she was left all alone on a farm no longer family-owned.
The real ownership of that particular parcel of farmland was slowly becoming clearer. It was revealed that the ‘Pakistan mafia’, the organisation that the detectives had worked so hard to uncover, was nothing more than an association of Pakistani small businessmen. Salim Rashid, it had turned out, had, over the years, shown the intelligence and foresight to set up a system whereby his friends and family back home could invest in Australian land. And it seemed likely that his daughter Amira, in inheriting her father’s portion of the land, was now a very wealthy woman. An international corporation would be farming the land in the new year.
And although they did end up missing the New Year’s Eve fireworks, Burke and Cole received commendations for jobs well done.
‘Welcome to the jungle,’ said O’Reilly.
Arbor was catching up on his filing.
‘It sucks,’ he said. ‘It well and truly sucks.’
‘I told you they’d screw you.’
‘Did you?’
Arbor couldn’t remember. Maybe he did.
‘Just be thankful you’ve still got a job,’ said the sergeant. ‘They could’ve thrown the book at you. How long was the Rashid girl out there?’
‘Three or four days.’
‘That’s what I mean. You’re just lucky they made such a dog’s breakfast of their own investigation.’
‘I tried, Sarge,’ said Arbor. ‘I tried to say. No one wanted to listen.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the way the cookie crumbles. But as far as they’re concerned, you were withholding evidence.’
&n
bsp; ‘Well, screw them,’ said Arbor. ‘Sorry, Sarge, but I did what I thought was right. Those pricks would have really fucked her around.’
‘Hey, I’m not arguing,’ said O’Reilly. ‘I’m on your side … Of course I am. Someone had to stand up for you, you useless prick.’
‘So what does that mean?’ said Arbor. ‘Does that mean I’m …?’
‘Well, you’re not getting a promotion, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ said O’Reilly. ‘In fact, you’re on desk duty for the next two … No, make it three weeks. But as far as the big wigs are concerned, I scored you an honourable mention. Fair enough?’
‘Yeah. Fair enough.’
‘Now bugger off,’ O’Reilly said. ‘Go and get some lunch. The women may love you, but I’m sick of the sight of you.’
Arbor stepped out onto the pavement and took out his phone.
‘Hi, Danny.’
‘Hi, Jen. How’s things?’
‘You asked me that at breakfast. Still good.’
‘Amira?’
‘She’s good. She’s baking.’
‘They’ve all been charged,’ said Arbor.
‘And you?’
‘Ah, I got a bit of a roasting, but … She’ll be right.’
‘See you tonight, then.’
‘Yeah, see you tonight.’
He was looking forward to it. He took the dozen or so steps towards the hotel.
It was just past twelve and the lounge had only half a dozen patrons. He knew most of them, in passing, but had no desire for idle chit-chat. He sat at the bar, preferring to eat in solitude. He ordered a steak, though he expected it to come with a good helping of Piper’s spit, or something worse, and settled into his usual cider. Despite the chatter from the nearby tables, the bar was remarkably peaceful. Piper was engaging a couple of the ladies with his natural charm. Chatton, Arbor noted, had found itself again very, very quickly.
‘Hey, Danny!’
It was Nathan. His friend was waving from the far end of the bar, from the dark pit that was the back bar. He hadn’t seen Nathan since the farm. He waved back.
‘Hi, Nathan.’
Piper glared, but said nothing.
‘Hi, Danny.’
It was Mandy, with her husband, grinning from ear to ear.
‘I believe congratulations are in order!’ she shouted. ‘Say hello to Jenny for me, will you?’
Arbor cringed. Trust Nathan, he thought.
He heard some murmurs from the other patrons. Was it the topic of conversation that bothered them? Or the volume? Or might it be the mere fact of their inter-bar chat?
As his steak arrived, he heard Mandy call again.
‘Hey, Danny.’
She was gesturing for him to join them. He thought for a moment and then stood.
‘Take these through there,’ he told Piper, passing him his drink. The publican offered a scowl in return, but did as ordered. Arbor could see the patrons’ heads turning as he left the bar. Fuck them, he thought.
He stood at the door to the back bar. He had made the first move, but was unsure how to make the second. The door opened. It was Nathan.
‘Are you coming in or what?’ he said.
‘Yeah, sure,’ said Arbor. He took the step.
The first thing he noticed was the lighting. It was as if Piper was cutting costs, using lower wattage bulbs to save a dollar or two. And the silence. The bar was smaller, and considerably more crowded, but the patrons were all quiet, their eyes on him.
‘Relax, guys,’ said Nathan. ‘Haven’t you ever seen a cop before?’
He passed Arbor his drink. The normal level of noise returned.
‘Feel a bit weird?’ said Nathan.
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah, well, get used to it. There’s no going back.’
Along the bar, Arbor could see Piper and the lounge patrons. They were whispering. Glowering.
‘Hey, what can you do?’ said Arbor. He laughed, and drank. He noticed Mandy’s drink. It had an umbrella.
‘Pretty fancy,’ he said. ‘What’s the occasion?’
‘Ah, don’t talk about it,’ said Nathan.
‘Why’s that?’
Mandy opened her bag and gestured to Arbor. He looked inside. In the darkness, it took a moment.
‘Shit.’
Wads of fifty and one hundred-dollar notes.
‘What the …?’
‘I told you I was lucky, Danny.’
Arbor looked to Nathan.
‘Second division,’ Nathan said. ‘Twenty-five-grand. And she won’t even buy me a beer.’
Mandy laughed. Arbor joined in.
‘You don’t mind?’ she asked. ‘Missing out? I gave you a fair chance.’
‘Yeah, I know you did,’ he said. ‘But no probs. I don’t mind. Really.’
‘Drink up,’ said Mandy. ‘I don’t mind buying you one.’
‘Fine,’ said Arbor. He pulled up a stool and drained the last of his cider. He was in the best of company. He would have another, and then maybe another, before he returned to work.
About the Author
After several years living in rural Western Australia, Calder Garret has settled for a quiet life in the outer suburbs of Perth, the state’s capital city. He is the author of three novels involving Probationary Constable Danny Arbor, Fresh Blood, Cold Cuts and King Hit. Several other Danny Arbor novels are in the pipeline.
You can visit Calder Garret’s website at caldergarret.com.
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