by Chris Krupa
Large boulders blown from either side of the riverbank littered the ground twenty feet below. He gripped my throat with one hand and squeezed hard, his thumb pushing hard into my vocal cords. The red orbs came back before my eyes as I choked and tried to bat his hand away, but he held firm and forced me to my knees. He stood over me, and I couldn’t make his face out against the rain. He brought his swollen face down an inch from mine and head-butted me just above the bridge of my nose. I saw a white flash, and the sound of the rain dropped out. A beckoning blackness wanted to take me down somewhere deep and unknown.
No. I want to see Alice again. I want to hold her again. I want to be at her wedding.
I fought myself back out of it, grabbed Poulson’s crotch with my left hand, and twisted with all the strength in my arm. He screamed and released his grip on my neck, and with a surge of effort, I screamed and pushed him hard in the stomach.
He fell backward, wide-eyed, and seemed to hang in the air for a moment, then slammed onto a bed of jagged boulders, his body suddenly still, as if paused in a movie. He screamed a high-pitched wail, his voice breaking at the end of each agonising shriek. I hadn’t heard a snap, but his legs lay skewed at an angle and didn’t move.
Blood seeped from a tear in my jeans, an inch below my pelvis. I lay down on my back again, and took pleasure in the rain pelting my face. That kind of violence can drive you half demented, and I found my thoughts drifting to Renee and Pavali, as I relished the sounds of Gavin Poulson’s suffering.
Chapter 30
After the questions from Queensland police and giving them my statement, I checked into a roadside motel called the Lazy Lizard Motor Inn and had a hot shower. I patched up the wounds in my shoulder and hip, and inspected my swollen face in the mirror. After downing two painkillers, I called Ivers.
‘Poulson’s in custody and Cairns police are interviewing him as I speak,’ I said.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘He partnered up with a guy called Malone to split the money. Poulson stabbed Malone to death, and I went after Poulson.’
‘Where’s Poulson now?’
‘Laid up in Cairns Hospital, probably with extensive spinal fractures.’
‘What the hell did you do to him?’
‘He tried to stick me with the same knife he used to kill Renee Prestwidge and Pavali Singh, so I threw him backwards into a culvert.’
‘Jesus, Matt.’
‘It was either that or cop a knife between the ribs.’ I found a kettle in a small cupboard and filled it up in the bathroom sink.
‘What about this Malone character?’ said Ivers. ‘Any first name?’
‘No. Queensland homicide recovered the body over an hour ago.’
‘Why didn’t you call me as soon as you stepped foot in Queensland? I could have coordinated a small task force to undertake surveillance, and had police officers bring the both of them in to formally lay charges. This isn’t about ultimatums or playing Dirty Harry.’
The kettle filled, and I limped out into the bedroom in search for a power point. ‘I had to act, Mike. Poulson learned of Tamsin’s location and had half a day on me. Due process is protracted and over complicated, you know that. I was against the clock. Poulson would have gotten to Tamsin by the time you coordinated your men.’
‘You’ve potentially compromised this case in ways you couldn’t understand. Your licence doesn’t grant you the privilege to vigilantism. You don’t leave me any option but to report this to the commissioner as a potential breach of the CAPI legislation. You’ve just put your livelihood at risk, you idiot.’
I eased myself onto the soft bed and rested the kettle on a pine bedside table. My lower back ached. ‘Maybe I deserve that, and if you want to be the one to do it, I can respect that. Couldn’t have come from a better officer, in my opinion.’
‘Stop with the false platitudes. You can’t carry them. Where was your high opinion of me when you decided to take Poulson on alone?’
‘If it’s worth anything, you’re my second port of call.’
‘It’s not worth jot.’
‘I’ll look into Malone’s connection with Poulson.’
‘No. Leave it. I’ll liaise with the Commissioner of the Queensland Police and investigate any lines of inquiry relating to Malone. As far as you’re concerned, you’d do best to stay the hell out of the way.’
The line went silent for a while, until Ivers said, ‘What about Tamsin? Did you find her?’
‘Yeah, she’s alive and well. She’s working as a personal trainer at a local gym. Everything looks rosy in her camp.’
‘Did you talk to her?’
‘No. I don’t think it’s my place to tell her about any of this.’
Ivers grunted.
I said, ‘What’s going to happen to Poulson?’
‘If he doesn’t get charged here, he might be extradited. I’ll check with relevant agencies in the UK to see if he has any links to other crimes in London. That’s the worst-case scenario.’
‘What’s best case?’
‘He’s charged here and arraigned to face court on double murder charges. I’ll do my best to see that happens. I don’t want the bastard to get off on a minimum term conviction in England because he’s a UK citizen.’
The conversation died, and Ivers hung up flustered.
I drank a weak coffee, had a twenty-minute kip, and boarded a twilight flight back to Sydney.
***
Brenda Cash fed her husband homemade chicken noodle soup from a container. When she saw me, she smiled and nodded. ‘Mathew, hello. Would you like something to eat? I made nopales.’
An open container with what looked like chopped up cactus sat on the eating tray.
I smiled and shook my head.
Reggie blinked at me slowly. ‘Matty.’ He sounded flat.
‘Reggie, what’s going on?’
‘Matty....’ He clawed the sheets. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Reggie, it’s good.’
‘They threatened Brenda. They wanted to know where Tamsin was, or they’d kill Brenda. Two guys came in, a tall, rough-lookin’ guy in leathers, and a little bald limey bastard. He’s the fucking prick who pulled my fingers apart. The other one kept watch outside the office.’
The fact Reggie had endured as much as he did earned him a lot of points, in my view.
‘They were probably casing the place,’ he said, ‘making sure I was alone.’
Brenda’s eyes glassed up, and she caressed his neck with the back of her hand. ‘O meu amor.’
‘The Limey cold-cocked me,’ Reggie continued. ‘Fucker broke my jaw, ripped my fingers out of their sockets. If he’d hurt her, Matty, I don’t know what I would’ve done.’
He looked at her in such a way, I felt like an intruder.
I told him about Poulson killing Malone, and how Poulson wouldn’t be able to hurt Brenda if he tried.
***
Two days went by before Evelyn’s mobile number showed up on my screen.
I said, ‘Tell Lyons I put his goon in a wheelchair.’
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘He died this morning on the operating table.’
Exactly like he said. Maybe there is some karma in the world.
‘I can’t get his face out of my head,’ she went on. ‘He looked so scared.’
‘Like I give a shit.’
‘Stop with the gruff act, Matt. You have to understand. I never meant to hurt Tamsin.’
‘No such thing as a victimless crime, Evelyn. You sound like all the other people who get caught out.’
‘You sound different.’
‘I’ve had a very big week, Evelyn. I’m very tired.’
‘Matt, Tamsin will always be flesh and blood. I love her. I love her like a daughter.’
‘That might be true, but you also used her for your own gain.’
She sighed long and deep. ‘My sister never wanted Tamsin.’
‘I’ve heard that record already. Noth
ing you did resembled love, Evelyn. You made sixty grand because of some misplaced ideal, as if you were doing this from some high moral ground—a form of revenge, on behalf of Tamsin.’
‘You’ll never understand how much I care for Tamsin, how I took her in as if she was my own. Her mother stood by and let her husband violate her own daughter. Do you know how much that makes me want to spit in my sister’s face? So, don’t make me out to be the bad guy.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me right now? What about Renee Prestwidge and Pavali Singh? What about the pieces their families have to pick up? What about Warwick Fripp? That’s the cost, Evelyn—three innocent lives for the sake of one. My boss had his fingers broken, and was bashed to within an inch of his life over this. I’ve been stabbed, hit, shot at, driven out into the middle of fucking nowhere by two fucking psychopaths, and for what? Your little pension scheme to draw as much blood as you could out of Jeff? You’re just lucky Tamsin isn’t lying in a morgue right now.’
She stayed silent for a long time. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Don’t say anything. Look, I want to assume the best of people, Evelyn. My boss got the injunction lifted, and Heather’s book is going to press, so all of this was for nothing. You didn’t prove anything. You didn’t expose Jeff, and you didn’t make anything better. Jeff never officially confessed to abusing Tamsin.’
‘If it was all for nothing, then what about us?’
‘Tuesday night was nothing but you gaining intel to see how much I knew about the book.’
‘I don’t need your criticism, and I don’t appreciate your tone. I didn’t hear you complaining.’
‘You were clumsy and obvious. That doesn’t faze me. What bothers me is the clumsy, ineffective way you went about it. You didn’t consider any subtlety at all, and went straight for the jugular.’
‘I’m going to sound like a lying, manipulating bitch, but I wanted something to happen. It scared the shit out of me, that something did. I didn’t expect anything to happen. There was something about you. I was interested in you’
I scoffed. ‘‘Was.’’
‘You don’t want to see me any more than I want to see you. Let’s just call it for what it was, a release, a bit of fun. I thought you could call a spade a spade. That’s what I liked about you. No PC bullshit.’
I understood the moral arguments about who benefited and how to capitalise when it came to murder—pride, jealousy, stupidity... all of it—but I couldn’t reconcile Evelyn’s apathy towards the victims.
She laughed. ‘Jesus, I didn’t pick you to be an elitist.’
‘And I didn’t pick you to be a misguided opportunist.’
‘I wanted to get back at the man who traumatised my niece, a little girl whom my sister treated with the utmost contempt. She didn’t deserve her. Neither of them did.’
‘You took advantage of them.’
‘It was the right thing to do, given the situation.’
‘Don’t you get it? Your little scheme backfired, and it cost three people their lives, Evelyn.’
‘How dare you put that on me.’
Ey, mannaggia, the gall of the woman.
‘That’s fucking low, Matt. Jeff hired a criminal to kill his own daughter. He may as well have stabbed those girls himself.’
‘That’s a very convenient out for you. What about Malone?’
‘Malone who?’
‘You don’t have any connection to a psychopath who owns a Beretta?’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Nothing. Forget it.’
‘I didn’t want anyone to die. You have to believe me.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you wanted or didn’t want, it’s all interconnected. Because of something you instigated, three people are dead. That’s what happened, as a direct consequence of your actions. And that’s something that’s going to haunt you every day.’
‘We have to live with our choices, and I’ve accepted that. Have you?’
‘This is exhausting. How do you figure?’
‘You arranged the meeting with Fripp, and now he’s dead. You signed onto the case, which caused Jeff to overreact and have Gav kill those two innocent girls. You told Jeff that Reggie knew where Tamsin was, which put her in danger. You are a catalyst for everything that happened just as much as I am, Matt. And that’s something you’ll have to live with.’
I wanted to hang up first, but she beat me to it.
Chapter 31
After a week, Reggie could bend his first two fingers part way around an apple. By week three, he could fully clutch an apple with all four fingers in a vice-like grip. A tray of food came off the trolley, and Reggie had the roast with gravy.
Brenda polished off the veggies, and I got the crème Brule.
Reggie raised his plastic cup of orange juice. ‘Here’s to the public healthcare system in Australia.’ He had that American bonhomie that grated but was hard to resist.
We scrunched cups and sat in silence for a while, and almost felt relief when a tall grey figure shuffled into the room and nodded his head. ‘Folks.’
‘Senior Detective Ivers,’ I said. ‘What brings you here?’
I indicated the spare chair, and he fell into it with a groan.
Reggie paled. ‘This can’t be good.’
I said, ‘I’m guessing you’ve got some news?’
‘The usual. A bit of both. The charges brought against Poulson by the AFP didn’t stick.’
‘Fuck!’ Reggie slammed his eating tray.
Ivers continued. ‘Interpol copped onto his activity in Australia, and he was immediately extradited. The good news is he’s due to stand trial at the Supreme Court of England on the charges of murder relating to the two women killed here, and faces at least eight other counts of murder for victims in the UK.’
I said, ‘What about Warwick Fripp? Did Casuamo make any inroads?’
‘We got lucky with a witness who was able to ID the make and model of the motorcycle used in the shooting. Via police enquiries and by way of CCTV footage, police were able to track the transport of the motorcycle from Coffs Harbour to Sydney on a float, and trace the purchase back to a person known to police. DNA from the suspect’s sunglasses and motorcycle helmet matched it to Ricky Malone.’
Ivers scrolled through his phone, then held it up to me. A photo of the man Poulson stabbed in the neck stared back at me. ‘Apparently, he’s an ex-employee of Lyons Media. That your guy from Queensland?’
I nodded. ‘I think he was a turn coat. There might have been talk about the traps, about taking out Fripp, at Lyons Media, and it leaked. I reckon Malone stepped up as a rogue element. He was a smooth operator. I think he found out about the offer to take out Tamsin, and cut a deal with Poulson behind Lyons’ back. Unfortunately, without Poulson’s testimony, its only hearsay. Do you know what Evelyn’s been charged with?’
Ivers checked his phone again. ‘Blackmail, and as of yesterday, she now faces an additional charge of accessory to murder before the fact. She’s due to face district court in four months.’
Another love interest bites the dust.
I thanked him for the information, added the last updates to the Lyons case file, finalised the expenses spreadsheet, and transferred twenty percent of the entire money Lyons had paid me to the nominated account Aunty had texted me.
Chapter 32
The waiting room of the diagnostic imaging center was modern enough and cheery enough, but like most medical places, the cheery décor was a cover for the real horror behind closed doors.
A quick survey of the room didn’t offer many clues—an eight-year-old boy and his mother were engrossed in their phones.
Eight’s too young. But maybe that’s just me.
An emaciated, elderly woman with translucent wispy hair had fallen asleep against an obese woman who watched a morning chat show with rapt attention. A man with slicked back hair, wearing a navy sweater and grey slacks, absently swiped his phone, a tiny hea
dset lodged over his ear.
I guessed the kid had leukemia, the old lady had cancer, and grey slacks had a tumor.
You’ve got a dark heart, Kowalski. A tall, dark heart.
I received a call from an unknown number.
‘Kowalski. Ivers.’
‘Good morning to you, Detective Constable.’
‘Hot off the press. I’ve got the Poulson judgment in my hands.’
A cold shiver of panic washed through me. Magistrates in murder cases tended to either extreme—too soft or too hard.
‘On the charge of the manslaughter of Renee Prestwidge,’ Ivers continued. ‘You are sentenced to a term of imprisonment comprising a non-parole period of 6 years and 9 months, with a balance of term of the sentence of 2 years and 3 months.’
I swore, and the mother took her eyes off her phone long enough to give me a look.
‘On the charge of the manslaughter of Pavali Singh, you are sentenced to a term of imprisonment comprising a non-parole period of 6 years and 9 months with a balance of term of the sentence of 2 years and 3 months. The total term of imprisonment is 9 years.’
I groaned. ‘How the fuck did he swing manslaughter?’
‘On the promise of leniency, he offered up the burial places of two of his victims.’
‘What about the other eight?’
‘Similar charges, all manslaughter, all for a period of about five to six years. In total, he’ll be locked up for twenty-eight years.’
‘That’s bullshit.’
‘Uh huh. No doubt his lawyers will file an appeal.’
The mother leaned over and waved at me. ‘Excuse me? My son doesn’t have to hear that kind of language.’
I waved an apology as a nurse called my name, then thanked Ivers for the call and hung up. The nurse led me to a change room and handed me a paper gown, and within minutes I lay on a cold, padded table under an MRI machine. A well-tanned man with an uncanny resemblance to Jack Nicklaus cut me a white smile and a thumbs-up as he manoeuvred the bed through the hole.
I couldn’t decide if my stomach ached due to a lack of food, or due to the possible diagnoses running through my head. With each tick of the clock, I drew closer to a concrete result, closer to sitting in a cold office while some quack fixed me with a dead stare and told me how long I had left.