Tallowwood

by N. R. Walker

  “Bartlett’s first name?”

  August had to think. “Ian.”

  Eather began to type out an email, speaking out loud as he did. “I need a full check on two people . . . Medical examiners, Doctor Nina Schneider and Doctor Ian Bartlett.”

  August’s head began to spin and his stomach felt queasy. Everything was starting to close in on him. Everyone he thought he could trust, everyone he thought was a friend . . . Fucking hell.

  He just needed to land in Coffs Harbour and make sure Jake was safe.

  That was his primary concern. He could worry about finding out sordid histories and chasing serial killers later.

  After he saw Jake.

  Oh, Jacob.

  Then August could wage an unholy war on anyone who had wronged him, lied to him, tricked him, and wasted a decade of his life. Hell, if he found out someone even breathed on his cases wrong, he’d make them pay.

  But Jake first.

  Eather snapped his fingers. “Shaw? You with me?”

  August shook his head to clear it. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Okay, I’m not gonna have any information on the MEs before we land, so here’s the plan on what we’re going to do when we get to the airport,” Eather began, and August nodded. “Nina doesn’t know I’m with you, does she? You never mentioned me on the phone to her when she offered to come get you?”

  August thought back to what he said. “No. Just me.”

  “Good. Let her think that. You go with her. Don’t let on that you suspect anything. If she is in on this, with a bit of luck, she’ll take you right to them.”

  August nodded woodenly. “Yeah.”

  He was so drained, so mentally exhausted, all he could do was agree. Normally August would have bristled at some federal agent trying to dictate procedure, but now he was grateful. He didn’t know Eather from a bar of soap, but he’d seriously just sourced more information in one hour than August could have gained in a week.

  After the longest flight in the history of air travel—which really only took one hour but felt like a lifetime—when the plane finally landed in Coffs Harbour, August was first off, and he ran through the gate to the terminal. Nina was there, standing alone, waiting. She didn’t smile, and August knew. He knew right then his realisation on the plane, his suspicions of her involvement were true.

  “Thank you,” he said, breathless, but playing his part.

  She gave a nod and turned toward the exit. “No luggage?”

  “No. No time. But I have to sign for my gun.”

  He found the right desk, had to wait another eternity for clearance, but he soon signed for the still-sealed storage box. He hated to wait even a few minutes, but he didn’t want to be walking into an unpredictable situation unarmed.

  Eather also arrived at the desk, just as August was finishing up. He never acknowledged August or even looked at him. He was good at playing his part, and another guy in a suit waited for him. Another Fed? Christ. How did they work so fast?

  When August was done, he went back to Nina. “Okay, we can go.” He fell into step beside her and they soon exited the terminal and crossed to the car park. “Thank you for coming to get me. I’m really worried.”

  She pressed the fob to her Jeep and they climbed in. “Police have been on edge since . . . well, since McNeill’s body was found.” She threw the Jeep into reverse and hooked it out of the parking space and zipped through the car park to the main road. She went right, toward Tallowwood, so August didn’t question that.

  “You examined McNeill?” he tried instead. She nodded again but said nothing. “And?”

  “And I can’t tell you,” she replied.

  August hadn’t expected that. “You can’t . . . or won’t?”

  “August,” she whispered. “You don’t have clearance.”

  “Clearance?” What the hell? “It’s one of mine!”

  “No it’s not.”

  “Was he not found with a silver cross and a note with ‘nothing gold can stay’ on it? His murder was a staged suicide and you know it.”

  She shot him a quick, hard glance. “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Christ. She really was in on it.

  What he wanted to do was scream at her, maybe shake her a little, and demand that she tell him where the hell Jacob was. But right now, this was a game he had to play. August needed to play smarter. He ignored her comment and changed tack. “Don’t suppose you had a chance to look for those two markers in the bloodwork?”

  She didn’t answer for a drawn-out mile. Even though she was well and truly exceeding the speed limit and the countryside was flying past, her silence felt like an hour. But every passing mile was a mile closer to Jacob. “No, not with the McNeill case. I’ve been swamped and there’s a backlog . . .”

  That was a pitiful excuse and they both knew it. Was she this bad at lying all the time? Or just to him? Or just because it was about him catching out her lies.

  “Even with Bartlett in town?” August said casually. “Thought many hands made light work.”

  She glanced at him again, this time with an unmasked dash of confusion. “Bartlett’s not here.”

  But yes, he was. Jake said he’d been on the plane with him. Bartlett wouldn’t come up here for any other reason . . . Nina wasn’t lying about not knowing, August could tell that much. Her reaction to that was real. So was it Nina who was in on it, or Bartlett?

  August’s mind swirled and muddied even more until he groaned. “Christ, Nina. What the hell is going on?”

  She took her eyes off the road to look at him, just as they drove right past the turn off to Tallowwood. She wasn’t taking him to Jacob . . .

  “Where are we going?” August asked. “Nina? So help me God, where the hell is Jacob?”

  The Jeep got faster and Nina burst into tears. “I’m taking you to him!” she yelled, then banged her open palm on the steering wheel like a crazy person. “You shouldn’t have asked questions, August. You shouldn’t have asked about the metabolite markers in the blood. I told you to find a piece of the puzzle, but it wasn’t supposed to be me.” She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She was speeding, going much too fast for the narrow, windy road. August was beginning to fear they’d crash. Then she cried out, making an absurd wailing noise. “You were supposed to stop him after Christopher!”

  What the . . . ?

  August’s blood ran cold, but before he could speak, Nina veered off onto a side road, taking the ninety-degree turn much too fast. The tyres slid out but somehow the Jeep didn’t roll. August was holding onto the hand railing on the dash, and he noted how low the sun was in the sky, as Nina sped down an unfamiliar dirt road and they disappeared into the rainforest.

  The dirt track was not easy going, filled with gaping potholes and corrugations, and Nina was still driving way too fast. The rainforest filtered the fading daylight and large tree trunks and ferns cast eerie shadows as they sped along the barely used track. It was bumpy and jagged, and at that speed and with Nina being manic as hell, August feared for his life. At one point, he considered pulling his gun and either shooting her or threatening to, but that would result in a crash for sure. And if August was injured or killed now, Jacob could die. Why didn’t he take the chance? Because she’d said she was taking him to Jacob. After they’d been driving a little while, August tried to engage her. “Nina,” he said gently. “Where are we going?”

  “Shut up!” she snapped and swerved around a blind corner. “This is your fault, August. You were supposed to catch him, to put a stop to this madness.” Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. “So much death. It was never supposed to go this far.”

  “You told Jacob to contact me when they found the first body.”

  “To stop them! You were never supposed to be involved with Jacob. I never meant to hurt you again. After Christopher. I had to leave. I couldn’t bear to see it in your eyes, and I followed Hirsch and Kenny north because appare
ntly I’m as sick as Hirsch.”

  August had no clue how he was responsible for any of this. “What are you talking about?”

  She began to cry again. Fat tears and ugly sobs, uncontrolled, scared, and deranged. She banged on the steering wheel once more and tried to speak, but she was crying so much no sound came out.

  “I know Hirsch and Kenny go way back,” August prompted. “I know about Kenny’s brother, Peter.” Nina’s gaze shot to August, her eyes wide and affronted, and he knew then where Nina slotted into this whole mess. “You knew Peter.” He shook his head. “You fixed the medical records and death certificates so Hirsch and Kenny could keep killing innocent men.”

  Tears streamed down her face, and she shook her head. But August knew he was right.

  “Was it to avenge Peter’s suicide? Did he even kill himself? Or was he Kenny’s first victim?”

  “We were just kids,” she cried. “Peter killed himself because he couldn’t live with it anymore. The shame, the guilt. His father’s hatred. And Kenny . . . he’s not a nice man, August.”

  “What has Hirsch got to do with any of this?”

  “He’s been in love with Kenny since high school.” She took her hand off the wheel and pulled at her hair as more tears ran down her face. “Kenny knows that, and he uses him. Whatever he says, Hirsch does. He has this hold over him, I don’t know. It’s a sickness. Like a kid who falls in love with his bully and thinks maybe he’ll stop picking on him if he could just get him to love him back. Kenny knows Hirsch has loved him all these years and made him help lure the men. His whole life. Kenny’s the one behind it all, Hirsch follows along like a kicked puppy . . .”

  “How many have there been, Nina?”

  She shook her head again, and her intake of breath became a horrible silent sob, which became a wail. “I don’t know! A lot. Too many! I don’t know. Fifteen? Twenty?”

  August gripped the dashboard as they bounced and slid down the track, and he tried to remain as calm as possible. “And how many did you cover up? When did you start helping him get away with murder?”

  She wailed again and banged her hand on the steering wheel as she cried. “I was so new. I didn’t know any better. And I knew them for years, we grew up in Strathfield. I was just doing what the police told me to do! I’d just started out and he gave me the case and told me it was suicide. And it looked like a suicide.”

  “But you knew it wasn’t.”

  “Afterwards, I found out there’d been others, and I questioned him.” They bounced on the road, almost hit a tree, but she swerved just in time. “But I’d covered it up, he said. I’d go to jail, he said. But he’d keep it a secret. God, August, I was so young. I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell anyone, and he was a cop! I should have stopped it then, but then it was too late, and there were more . . .”

  “And Christopher?” August asked. His gut felt like a cement swamp. “You knew! And you let me go through that!” He was screaming at her and he didn’t care. “You watched me die inside, and you let it happen!”

  She floored the accelerator, gripped the steering wheel, and sobbed. “Shut up, shut up!” she yelled. “I can’t think!”

  She rounded a sharp turn at speed and they hit a bump. The Jeep thudded and jerked so hard August banged his head on the window. Nina never slowed down, and the rainforest closed in around them. Branches scraped the sides and roof of the Jeep; the outside would no doubt have dents and scratches, and they bounced on their seats.

  August was certain he was going to die today. If Nina didn’t slam them into a tree or send them hurtling off the side of the mountain, she was going to deliver him to Hirsch and Kenny. And if he had nothing to lose, he wasn’t going to die wondering. He took his pistol from his holster and held it on his thigh. She saw it and blanched, then started shaking her head.

  August asked her, as calm as he could. “Is Jacob still alive?”

  “I don’t know,” she cried, her voice small.

  And there it was. If Jacob was truly gone, August was sure his heart wouldn’t survive it. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now!”

  She slowed the Jeep to a gradual crawl, the fight or flight in her was out of steam. She now held on to the steering wheel as though it was holding her up. “August . . .”

  He took the safety off the pistol. “One reason, Nina. Give me one fucking reason.”

  “Because I’m taking you to him,” she said, leaning her forehead against her hands on the wheel. “Where the other bodies were found, the dam, the camping grounds, are just a few hundred metres further down this road. If Jacob is still alive, he’ll be here. Somewhere. I don’t know where.”

  She looked at him then, her eyes red and tired, her face drawn, and her soul destroyed, empty. She looked like a stranger.

  “Please stop them,” she whispered, her head still leaning on the steering wheel, as the Jeep came to a stop. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m sorry August. I am so sorry.” She began to cry again. Fat tears and ugly sobs, uncontrolled, scared, and deranged, her hollow eyes staring into nothingness.

  August shoved the door open and began to run down the track, and it wasn’t long until he could see what looked like the clearing and the edge of the dam. He was open and exposed, and he skidded to a halt.

  Somewhere in the forest to his right, a kookaburra laughed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Everything was quiet now. Even the ringing in Jake’s ears, that mechanical hum of his brain had fallen silent. He was still sitting in the cold ground, damp, and some ants crawled along his pants. He held an orange box cutter in his hand, which was strange.

  Everything was so very strange.

  But that was okay. Jake didn’t mind one bit.

  He just smiled at the kookaburra that sat on the branch in front of him, just a few feet away, watching him. It was a glorious bird—its plump, taupe body and long dark beak and curious eyes.

  Eyes that Jake knew, that had watched over him growing up. A spirit familiar to his own.

  He caught movement out the corner of his eye and his head turned. When he saw Kenny standing some distance away, sound snapped back and Jacob could hear noises again.

  “Can you hear me, Jacob?” he yelled. “Raise your right hand.”

  Jacob’s right hand rose up, as if a puppet master were pulling a marionette’s string.

  “Extend the blade of the box cutter, Jacob,” Kenny yelled.

  But Jacob was drawn back to the kookaburra. He turned to face it, they locked gazes as though the bird was talking to him, and again the world fell silent. He smiled.

  Time fell away, irrelevant as the cold and the darkness began to settle around him. The forest was hunkering down for a winter night, and Jake felt heavy as lead. He could feel nothing, paralysed to everything but the barest of thoughts.

  The kookaburra flapped its wings as though it was desperately trying to tell him something. It opened its long beak, slowly put its head back, and cried out a laugh. Though kookaburras didn’t actually laugh, Jake knew that. It was a warning cry.

  Then Hirsch and Kenny were back in front of him. Jake looked up at them, and he could hear them again.

  “It doesn’t matter now, we’ve left our footprints and fingerprints here. We’ve contaminated the scene!” Hirsch cried. “You’re gonna have to move him.”

  “I can’t get him up. He won’t listen, not like the others,” Kenny spat back at him. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Because you gave him too much! He’s stupefied!” Hirsch said. His face was red and the tendon in his neck strained, like he was screaming and Kenny was yelling back at him, but Jake could barely hear either of them. Or like they were in another room instead of right in front of him.

  The kookaburra was now on a branch higher up and Jacob’s eyes were drawn to it. Hirsch and Kenny were irrelevant, non-existent, like Jake’s body, his cognitive mind. He wanted to sit in the forest and be with the kookaburra, with the trees and the earth.
r />   He was at home here.

  His ancestors were with him.

  Then Kenny was crouching in front of him. His huge hand gripped Jake’s chin. “Jacob, look at me!”

  Jake looked at him.

  Kenny was angry and he appeared to be yelling right up close, but his voice seemed far away. “Stand up!”

  But Jacob couldn’t stand up. He could see his legs, but he couldn’t feel them. His brain could send no signals. Nothing worked, not his arms or his legs. His body mass felt dense, too heavy, and gravity was pushing him down, holding him to the earth.

  The kookaburra took to flight, its wings beating in slow motion as it hovered above them. There was no other sound anywhere, but Jacob could hear its song, so very beautiful.

  Then the sole of Kenny’s boot came at the side of his head. Jake watched it come at him as if the world was playing at half-speed. It connected to his temple, and Jake fell to his side in the leaves, the dirt and the moss.

  There was no pain. Only darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When August finally got his bearings, when his heart wasn’t going to claw its way out of his chest, something flew at his head. He ducked and put his arm up instinctively to protect himself, but nothing collided with him.

  He looked around wildly and right there, right in front of him, less than a metre away on a branch of the closest tree was a kookaburra.

  It was winter, not spring or breeding season, so what the hell did it swoop him for? Then it raised up so its little feet were barely on the branch and flapped its wings. August thought it was going to attack him. It was so freaking close! He’d never seen one so close up before.

  Then it whooshed to a different branch set back in the forest another metre or so and flapped its wings again.

  Another kookaburra deeper in the forest cried out and then there was the sound of voices. A man, yelling, another voice and unintelligible arguing. Though August wasn’t entirely sure how sound carried or echoed in rainforests, he was certain the sound came from his right, deeper in the forest.