by Simon King
4.
His final destination couldn’t have been described as anything more than a run-down shack that sat beside a larger run-down shack. A rickety picket fence surrounded the dwellings on three sides, the left side remaining open, sharing its space with a field devoid of livestock. There were, however, several piles of rubbish dotted around the yard and paddock, one old rusted-out car, a small tractor with rotting tyres and what may have been a chicken pen sometime in the previous century. The buildings weren’t in any better shape, the larger having two of its four windows boarded shut, cracked glass visible in one uncovered corner. Neither building had seen a taste of paint in like four hundred years and the roof of the smaller building had scraps of tin nailed to it in little spits and spats. It would seem that Clancy Higgins lived in squalor. Steph parked the FX a couple of hundred yards from the house, saw a dirt track that led up past the paddock and decided to investigate where it ended. To our relief, the track ended in a bunch of trees that flanked the northside of the paddock, sitting atop a slight hill. From here, we had our second perfect vantage point of the day, both buildings visible, including clear uninterrupted views of the front and rear of the buildings.
Steph tapped my shoulder and pointed to something sitting on the far side of the paddock, almost hidden from view by a tree and large clumps of grass. It was a sheet of roofing tin, roughly 7 to 8 feet by about 4 to 6 feet. I looked at her, thinking the same thing she was. I made it my intention to investigate it once darkness fell. I checked my watch, saw it was a little before 11 and groaned. It was going to be a long day.
Steph grabbed a coke and popped the top, handed it to me then grabbed the other. I took a long gulp, burped into my hand, then set the bottle on the floor. Steph took an even longer swallow, belched like a frontline soldier and giggled when I looked at her wide-eyed.
“OK, puts mine to shame. Just warn me if you plan to cock your leg, yeah?” I said, making her giggle harder. I grabbed the box of nuts and threw some into my mouth. Steph followed suit then grabbed the binoculars, scanning the buildings for signs of life. She didn’t see any and put them back in their case.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked her after a while. The only sounds out here were a couple of magpies sitting in the trees above us, and an occasional cow, bellowing in a paddock down the road.
“Sure.”
“The car. It’s a pretty sweet ride for someone so young.”
“It belonged to my uncle before he died. He never married and had no children so it came to me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. The guy was an arse.” That was what I really liked about this girl, she said it how it was, no glitter, no bullshit, just plain and simple.
5.
The afternoon slipped by with nothing noteworthy. After a lunch of salami and mustard sandwiches and a generous helping of sponge cake, Steph drifted into a nap while I stayed on duty. Around 3, we swapped, sleep taking me much easier than I anticipated. I don’t recall dreaming, but do recall almost jumping out of my skin when Steph began shaking me. It was pitch black outside and it took me a moment to realise where we were.
“Jim,” she said, close to my ear. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to focus on what she was pointing at. I could make out a blurry mix of lights, but due to sleep stuck in my eyes, I couldn’t focus on the individual lights that were shining out there. I rubbed my eyes a second time and when I took another look, made out three separate sets of lights. One set was the large house, one was the smaller house. For a moment I couldn’t work out what the third set was. I looked at her, questioningly.
“It’s a car,” she whispered back.
“Do we know who?” I asked.
“I think we do. It’s a German make,” she said.
“Levinson?” I asked, sitting bolt upright. My head hit the roof, making a loud thump inside the car. Steph opened her door and quietly climbed out. Even though the house was several hundred yards away, noise had a funny way of travelling, especially at night. A sound could easily travel for miles, as was evident by the barking dog we could hear, somewhere out of sight. I climbed out of the car and walked toward a tree, leaning behind it and peering around its trunk. There was no moon, so the darkness worked in our favour, the cloud cover even shielding us from the starlight. From this distance, all we could make out were the distant lights, shadows occasionally walking in front of them. We had no idea how many people, or who the people were for that matter. We suddenly heard some muffled yelling coming from the house, a crash sounding like a door slam, then two distinct car doors being slammed shut. I looked back at Steph who was standing just behind me. The car started up and began to reverse.
“What do we do?” I asked, panicking.
“Have to split up. You stay here, I’ll follow Levinson,” she said, turning to run back to the car.
“Steph,” I whispered after her, “be careful.” I watched as she started the car, then slowly began driving back down the path we had come down, not turning the headlights on until she was hidden behind the hill. I listened to her as she slowly idled the car back to the main road, but didn’t see her, figuring she probably killed the lights as she neared the road. I could still see Levinson’s lights in the distance and was hoping Steph would get close enough to his car that she could feed off his lights.
I looked back to the houses and the lights that were still on. There was no noticeable movement and for a moment a bolt of fear ran through me that everybody had gone with the Doc, leaving Steph to deal with them on her own, while I sat here twiddling my thumbs watching an empty paddock.
There was something I did want to check out though, and that was the sheet of tin that was lying at the far side of the field. Dreading what I would find under it was an understatement, but to my relief, once I had slinked across the paddock and lifted the sheet up, found it to be nothing more than a discarded sheet of roofing iron, nothing of interest beneath it. That at least meant no animals were harmed in this location at least. Although that didn’t mean Clancy had given up chewing on dogs and cats. That was something we still had to confirm.
I decided to sneak to the houses and see if I could learn anything of interest. There was a very low sound coming from one of the buildings, and as I neared the larger of the two, made out the distinct sound of music. It was some sort of classical orchestra, like Beethoven or Mozart. Classical music was definitely not one of my strong suits, but as I crept closer, I recognized the piece that was playing immediately because it was a piece my mother was quite fond of. I knew it was called Symphony No. 40, but couldn’t remember who had written it.
There was an open window nearest to me and the music was emanating from there. I crept closer and closer, edging my way towards the sound. There were no other sounds coming from the house and at first, I thought that the house was empty. But then as I neared the window close enough to peer into it, saw an old woman sitting back in a sofa chair, her nightgown pulled tightly around her ample bosoms. She was sporting a dozen or so hair curlers on her head, reminding me of pictures I had seen in a book of Greek mythology. It reminded me of the picture I had seen of Medusa, the mythical titan. There was a glass of what looked like whiskey or bourbon on the table in front of her and in her fingers dangled a lit cigarette, its tendrils of smoke slowly snaking towards the open window. Her eyes were closed and I thought she must have fallen asleep while listening to her music, but then she lifted her cigarette to her lips and drew in a puff.
Without any warning, her eyes suddenly shot open and her head turned towards me. I found myself staring at her less than 3 feet from her face. Her eyes grew wide behind her oversized glasses as she sat bolt upright and that’s when she began to scream, a long shrill screech that drilled into my head. I put my hands up trying to quieten her, to show her that I meant no harm, but then I heard footsteps running from another room.
“What’s wrong, Ma?” I heard, and when I saw the rifle in the man’s hand as he came th
rough the doorway, it was all the motivation I needed to get my arse out of there. Instead of running towards the road, which meant running past the front door to this wonderful dwelling, I decided to turn and run the other way, back up the hill and further from town. I figured it would be easier to double back once I gained enough distance between me and whoever the man with the rifle was.
The back door suddenly crashed open and I instantly fell flat on my face, then wiggled forward a few yards to hide in some thick weeds that were growing in a clump. The patch was almost large enough to hide me and was also close enough to the house that I could make out the man now looking for me.
“I’LL FIND YOU, YOU PERVERT!” he yelled, getting closer to my hiding spot. I could just make out the rifle he was now raising in front of him, the butt end nestled into his shoulder. “COME OUT YOU QUEER!” I lay completely still, unable to move a single muscle. Something began to crawl over my fingers and I nearly yelped in surprise. I swallowed the shock and held my breath. The man suddenly fired the rifle, the crack so loud, I heard it echo back from the hill behind me. The bullet whizzed above my head and I was sure that he had spotted me. He fired again but had aimed off to my right this time. “DON’T COME BACK, YOU HEAR ME?” He finally turned and began to walk back to the house. He climbed the step, turned for one final look then went in, slamming the door behind him. I heard the muffled sound of garbled conversation and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good five minutes before I finally had the nerve to move, and when I did, I ran like the actual Devil was chasing me.
By the time I had reached the main road again, it was close to 8 o’clock and Steph had been gone almost an hour. Clancy’s house was at least a mile behind me, and as there were no other cars that I could see, figured I was pretty safe walking along the road. If I spotted a car coming towards me, then I would duck into the bushes until I was sure it wasn’t Levinson. I needn’t have worried. About another mile down the road, I saw Steph’s car parked down a side lane about 30 yards off the main road. As I approached, I saw that the car was turned off and abandoned, the driver’s door open. I peered inside and was about to close the door when a hand grabbed my arm, the scream unable to be held in this time. My arm came up to hit out, but I saw Steph’s face in the nick of time.
“What the hell,” I cried, “you scared the shit out of me.” She giggled a little then pointed to something further down the lane. I could see some sort of shadow also sitting beside the small lane, but it was too dark to identify.
“It’s Levinson’s Mercedes,” she said.
“Are they parked there?” I asked, beginning to walk toward it.
“No, it’s empty. I don’t know where they’ve gone. They just disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”. Just then something illuminated not just Steph and I, but her car, the Mercedes and the rest of the lane. As if to confirm any doubt about who it was, revolving red lights began to fan across the trees, cars and landscape as the patrol car came to a halt beside us.
“Steph?” A voice asked.
“Yah,” she replied.
“Chief wants to see you.”
“Pete, what are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“We got a call from Irene Higgins. Apparently, someone’s been sneaking a peak at her through a window. Some pervert looking to get his rocks off. We saw your car from the road.”
“Is that the only call you got?” I asked, but he didn’t answer, ignoring me.
“Anyway, Chief’s lookin for ya.”
“Thanks,” Steph replied and didn’t wait for any formalities. She jumped in the car and waited for me to climb in. Judging by the slam of her door, her frustration had grown considerably.
“Think someone tipped them off?” I asked as she swung the FX back onto the main road.
“I’d put a fiver on it,” she said, lighting a smoke.
“He’s up to something, I know it,” I said, looking through the window at the approaching street lamps.
“Of that, I’m pretty positive,” Steph said as she inhaled. Ten minutes later we were sitting in Rademeyer’s office.
6.
“Before I tell you about a phone call I just received, I just want to make it clear to you two that I am on your side. Despite whatever differences we may have had in the past, however you feel about my ability to run this police station or even what names people are calling me these days, I need you two to get it through your heads that I am on your side. I can’t help you if you don’t help me.” He looked at us from across his desk, all the years of stress clearly visible on his face tonight. I wanted to believe him, and I think on some level I did, but the doubt that lingered wouldn’t go quietly. It hung in the air between us, both sides of the desk aware of its presence.
When neither of us answered, he continued. “I received a call from William Reinhart. I trust you two know the name?” I nodded. “It seems that Commissioner Reinhart has a history with a certain Doctor that is currently doing some work up at Crab Apple.” I groaned inside, but when Rademeyer’s eyes flashed in my direction, I realised I had groaned externally. “Yes, Jim, that’s right. Levinson and Reinhart go all the way back to high school. And he’s been using his connections to conduct his research anywhere he damn well pleases.” Rademeyer stood, went to a shelf that hung on the far wall and rifled through a folder. He pulled out an envelope and sat back down.
“Chief, I wanted to-” Steph started but Rademeyer held a hand up, stopping her words. I felt a flash of anger and was about to say so, but then he looked at me.
“Do you really think I would ask for your help if I didn’t respect you as an officer, Jim? I know we have a history, but this thing is bigger than us and we need to put our differences aside.” He turned to Steph. “Steph, I don’t mean to be as harsh as I am to you. I respect you as an officer too, I really do. I don’t always have the right words, and to be honest, I get worried about you out there.” Steph’s jaw dropped and I thought she was about to fall out of her chair. “I have a daughter who’s about your age and it would scare the shit out of me if she was out there doing what you do. I don’t mean to stand in your way, it’s just,” he paused for a moment, looking down at the envelope, then continued,” it’s the father figure in me, I guess.” He handed me the envelope which I took, unsure of its contents.
“Chief?” I asked, hesitating.
“I know the rumours, I’ve heard them all, Jim. I know what was said when we finally nailed that bastard. That I held out on you, that I took your glory. Open it. Maybe it’s time for unanswered questions to be laid to rest,” he said, pointing at the envelope. I tore it open and read the single note that was inside. It struck me how old it looked; the paper yellowed around the edges.
To the Office of the Chief Commissioner of Police
Dear Sir,
It is with much pleasure and pride, that I am formally advising you of the apprehension of the wanted criminal known as the Daylesford Devil, responsible for the torture and murder of 14 Victorian citizens. The investigation and subsequent arrest had been made possible by a vast number of men and women, both in uniform and out and it is my honour to pass on their names to you in the attached list.
There are, however, two names that I would personally like to put forth to you, for the raw courage and bravery they displayed in ensuring the arrest of the offender.
I would like to put forth the name of Leading Senior Constable Warren Smythe (killed in the line of duty) to be considered for the Victoria Police Star.
I would like to put forth the name of Constable James Lawson to be considered for the Valour Award.
Sir, these men have shown incredible bravery and sacrifice in the course of their duties and I believe deserve the appropriate recognition.
With Respect
Frank Jodey Rademeyer
January 28, 1934
Reading the letter a second time didn’t help diminish my embarrassment. I always figured he just ignored my input, forgotten the hours and hours t
hat Warren and I had put in. When I finally met his eyes again, he was smiling, a warm almost apologetic smile.
“Frank, Chief, I’m sorry,” was all that would come out.
“They overruled me, Jim. Three times I tried and three times they pissed me off, telling me it was a group effort, no single officer deserved recognition over anybody else. And then when they implied that Warren had acted with bravado rather than calling for back up, they didn’t want to acknowledge his sacrifice either.” I didn’t know what to say. The best I could think of was to hold out my hand and shake his. He shook my hand, tightly, as if releasing some long held-on pain.
“Now,” he said as he let my hand go, “tell me what’s going on.”
7.
We told him everything that had been happening the past couple of days, including the interviews we held, the meeting with Levinson and spotting him out at Clancy Higgins’ house. He listened intently, nodding here and there to confirm his understanding, even asking questions of Steph. It was like being in a room with a completely different person. When were finished, he sat back in his chair, pondering the information he had now been made aware of. After a few minutes, he lent forward, clasped his hands together and put his arms on his desk.
“The one thing I have learnt in this job is that the more reason you have to hide what you are doing, the higher up the chain you climb to shield yourself. This arsehole, Levinson, has climbed almost as high as he could possibly go. That means he’s up to some serious shit. Agree?” We both nodded. “There’s really only one person higher than the commissioner and we all know who that is. We also know that given the commissioner’s relationship to our premier, that one higher phone call is a real possibility.”