by Angus McLean
Taylor stiffened noticeably.
‘But I have worked with criminals for a long time, and a lot of them use meth. I know the signs and I recognise the users.’ He shrugged again. ‘Probably the last thing a politician would want spread across the front page of the Herald, specially coupled with the whole corruption angle.’ He heard Brady let out a hiss of anger, and continued to ignore him. ‘Just sayin’.’
Taylor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Brady stepping forward, his fists clenched and his face thunderous.
Dan held up a finger of warning. ‘One more step, son, and you’ll be going to A&E.’ He paused, unblinking. ‘One step. Take a breath and back away.’
Taylor took Brady by the arm and moved to the door. Brady’s teeth were bared in a silent snarl and his eyes never left Dan’s face as he was shuffled outside by his boss. Once they were on the landing, Taylor turned to Dan again.
‘It didn’t have to go like this,’ he said, and Dan was sure he detected real regret in his tone.
‘You’re right, it didn’t,’ he agreed. ‘It’s up to you now how it ends. Just remember what I said.’
Taylor turned to go, still holding Brady by the arm.
‘Oh, and Mr Taylor?’
Taylor paused and half turned his head to listen.
‘If you ever send your goons around here again, I’ll make good on my promise. They will not walk away. Understand?’
Taylor gave the slightest nod, and Dan shut the door.
Molly looked at him with wide eyes, her look a mix of pride and trepidation.
‘Wow,’ she said,’ that was different.’
‘Hmm.’ Dan picked up his water bottle and took a draught. ‘I don’t like him. Either of them, actually.’
‘That Mathew Taylor’s a slimeball,’ Molly agreed. ‘I can’t believe he’d sell out his own son like that.’
‘It’s all about image,’ Dan said thoughtfully, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘He’s scared of the negative publicity.’
‘Well, I think he might have made a mistake here,’ Molly said, a small smile playing at her lips.
‘A tactical error,’ Dan agreed.
‘He poked the bear, didn’t he?’
‘Yep.’ Dan nodded. ‘He poked the bear.’
Chapter Nine
Hugh Kennedy was crossing the foyer of the Manukau Police Station when he caught sight of Crowley waiting there, standing inside the sliding front doors with his hands in his pockets and a brown A4 envelope tucked under his arm.
Kennedy groaned mentally and glanced past Crowley to where his wife waited at the kerb in their sensible beige Toyota with the kids. He was already five minutes late and she’d be grumpy if he was later still.
‘Yes?’ he said, stopping reluctantly and adopting a disinterested look.
Crowley held the envelope out to him. It was thick and heavy.
‘Here’s what I was telling you about. Copies of everything I’ve found so far.’ He silently studied Kennedy’s face for a few moments. ‘I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you it would blow the case out of the water, so I sincerely hope you haven’t done anything drastic since we last spoke.’
Kennedy nodded non-committally and took the envelope.
‘I’ll have a read,’ he replied stiffly, ‘but I can’t promise anything else. I do have other things to do, you know.’
‘Sure.’ Crowley gave him a look of exasperation. ‘This is a kid’s life you’re playing with here, Kennedy.’
He turned to go, and Kennedy impulsively grabbed him by the arm. Crowley stopped, looked at the hand then at Kennedy. Kennedy instinctively pulled back, wondering for a split second if Crowley was going to lash out. Their eyes met and he knew the other man had read his mind.
‘I’m not going to hit you, Hughie,’ Crowley scoffed, and Kennedy felt his cheeks burn.
‘Sorry,’ he said, immediately feeling foolish. ‘I was just going to say, I know what the consequences could be for this kid. I know it’s not a game.’
‘Good.’ Crowley nodded, his dark eyes giving nothing away. With nothing further, he turned and walked through the sliding doors.
Kennedy watched him go, hefting the envelope in his hand. He glanced at it thoughtfully, then watched Crowley get into a silver Vectra across the road.
Typically, he thought, the private eye had disregarded the rules and parked in a loading zone. He shifted his gaze to the beige Toyota and saw his kids waving at him. His wife was holding her watch up and tapping it impatiently.
Kennedy sighed and took the hint.
Chapter Ten
At 8:05am on Friday, Sidney Buckmaster was waiting outside the door to Chase Investigations. He had his hands tucked into his stab vest to keep warm, and was rocking on his heels when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
Buck let out his breath and prepared himself. His shoulders dropped when he saw Mike bounding up towards him.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
Mike cocked his head as he dug out his keys. ‘Ah, yeah. Sorry to disappoint, mate.’
‘Is Dan coming in?’
‘Morning, Constable,’ Dan grinned as he reached the top step. ‘S’pose you’ve come to scrounge a decent coffee?’
‘Um, yeah.’ Buck nodded to Molly as she joined them. ‘Mol. Hey ahh, I need a word, Dan.’
Dan was about to push Mike through the door ahead of him, but paused, scanning Buck’s face.
‘Really?’ His heart sank as he recognised the look on his friend’s face. ‘Is it Dad?’
‘No, mate.’ Buck ushered him inside, a sudden gloom descending on the group as he shut the door behind them. ‘Um, sorry mate...’
‘Well spit it out, Bucko,’ Mike said tersely, ‘what’s goin’ on?’
‘It’s Top.’ Buck hooked his thumbs into his vest, his game face on. ‘Sorry mate, but Top’s dead.’
Dan felt like he’d been sucker punched, and took a step back in surprise, the edge of Molly’s desk stopping him from going any further. Molly put a concerned hand on his arm, and Mike let out a whistle.
‘What? How?” Dan’s mouth was full of cotton wool and his voice sounded foreign to him.
‘Suicide. He was- ‘
‘Bollocks!’ Dan snapped, ‘I don’t believe it. Not Top. Suicide?’ He shook his head in disbelief.
Buck nodded solemnly. “It’s true mate, sorry.’
Dan sucked in a breath, fighting for control. He took a few moments to compose himself before turning back to Buck.
‘What happened?’ he asked quietly. ‘Did he leave a note?’
‘He was seen on the ledge of a car park building downtown, just off K Rd, about five this morning,’ Buck said. ‘A guy arriving for work saw him, tried to talk to him, and Top gave him the short shift. The cops got called and spoke to him. They said he was rambling about stuff...integrity and honesty, and losing his way, and all sorts of stuff.’
Dan nodded, picturing the scene in his head.
‘They talked to him for nearly an hour, but they reckon they never had a chance to actually stop him. They reckon he was dead set...sorry, I mean set, on doing it anyway.’ Buck inclined his head sympathetically. ‘He just leaned back and that was that.’
‘No note?’
Buck shook his head.
‘No, nothing. My guess is he wanted to be seen, wanted to speak to someone first, but it would never have changed anything.’
‘Honey, I’m sorry.’
He felt Molly’s hand on his shoulder and she pulled him close, stroking the back of his head as tears welled in his eyes. He pulled away abruptly and walked out, crossing the landing to the handrail at the rear of the building, where a narrow alcove faced the motorway.
Smokers from neighbouring businesses usually gathered here during breaks, and butts overflowed from the coffee tin on the ground. Traffic was crawling north and flowing south and the smell of exhaust fumes was strong. The sun was coming up on a new day, and Dan cried.
He l
et the tears roll down his face and his shoulders shook as he let it out. He cried for the injustice and indignity of it all, for the end of a life too soon, and for himself.
But above all, he cried for his friend.
Chapter Eleven
Hugh Kennedy stepped into the conference room and shut the door behind him. He put a file on the polished table in front of him and took the closest seat, which also happened to be at the head.
He glanced to his left, where Chris Taylor sat, silently pensive. Taylor had asked to bring a support person, and Crowley sat to his left. Kennedy didn’t like the arrangement but the rules were the rules, and Hugh Kennedy did not break the rules.
‘Okay, thanks for coming in, Chris,’ he said, deliberately ignoring Crowley. ‘I just wanted to give you an update on the result of the investigation into the complaint against you.’
Taylor nodded and Kennedy flicked to the top report in the file, as if he hadn’t finished writing it only an hour before.
‘The investigation has been completed and all the evidence has been assessed. As you know, it was a serious allegation with potentially serious consequences for you.’
Taylor nodded again and fidgeted. Crowley breathed out heavily as if he was getting impatient. Kennedy took the hint.
‘I’m pleased to say that the complaint has been not upheld,’ he said, not even cracking a smile.
Taylor broke into a grin, the relief clear in his face. Crowley patted him briefly on the shoulder and Taylor gave him a small smile of thanks.
‘Your flatmate Tim Ashton came through for you, finally,’ Kennedy continued, ‘and it is clear there is no evidential foundation for Miss Parker’s complaint against you. The matter will therefore be going no further. You’re free to return to work, and I’ll put that in writing to you today. Okay.’
He closed the folder and went to stand, but Crowley interjected.
‘What about the girl?’ he asked, ‘any action against her for making a false complaint?’
‘That’s something that I’ll give due consideration,’ Kennedy replied stiffly, and Crowley pulled a face.
‘Same old song and dance then, Hugh,’ he said, hooking a thumb at his client, ‘this kid gets put through the wringer and she walks away scot-free.’ He shook his head as he got up. ‘Some things never change.’
‘It’s not really anything to do with you now, is it Daniel?’ Kennedy retorted, ‘your part in this is over.’
‘And luckily I had a part in it, Hughie.’ Crowley eyed him coldly. ‘If I hadn’t, you would’ve done your usual sterling work and he would’ve been standing in the dock.’
Chris Taylor broke the moment.
‘Come on,’ he said to Crowley, ‘let’s just go.’ He looked to Kennedy and gave a nod. ‘Thanks, sir.’
Kennedy returned the nod and watched them file past.
‘Just a minute, Daniel.’
Crowley paused and looked at him.
‘Mathew Taylor’s assistant, Paul Brady.’ Kennedy searched Crowley’s face for a reaction, but got none.
‘What about him?’
‘He got arrested last night.’
‘Good. And?’
‘I just wondered if you knew anything about it.’
Crowley shrugged. ‘People get arrested all the time. I can’t help that; I don’t arrest them.’
‘He was throwing your name around to the cop that stopped him, and he’s obviously not very happy with you.’
‘Well he’s a member of a fairly non-exclusive club then,’ Crowley replied.
‘I’d watch my back with him,’ Kennedy persisted, ’he played up when he got arrested and the cops had to pepper spray him. He got caught with a gram of P, you know.’
‘Really?’ Crowley cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Well, I’ll bear that in mind, thanks.’
‘It was Toby Morgan that arrested him.’ Kennedy looked at him quizzically. ‘You know Toby, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, I do. Old Toby, eh.’ Crowley’s moustache twitched. ‘He’s a good boy. I must catch up with him one of these days.’
He turned and followed Chris Taylor down the corridor.
Hugh Kennedy watched them go and nodded to himself, satisfied.
The two men walked towards the visitor’s car park, neither speaking until they reached Chris Taylor’s car. It was a sleek silver two year old Lexus, paid for by his parents. He bleeped the doors and turned to Dan, his usually sullen face taking on a look of awkwardness.
Dan mentally sighed. ‘What is it?’ he asked, the resignation clear in his tone.
‘Thanks for your help. You did really good.’
‘It’s what I do.’ Dan gazed at him. ‘But?’
‘I know you’ll think it’s a stupid idea, but I’ve...’ Chris Taylor took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving, and I’m going to go to the UK for a while. I can get a visa, and I’ve got some mates over there already...’
‘And Daddy’s helping you out with the spending money.’ Dan nodded, and the young man avoided his gaze.
‘Well, yeah, but...it’s not like that, y’know?’
‘Mate, it’s exactly like that,’ Dan replied flatly. ‘After all the hoopla, your old man has got exactly what he wanted in the first place.’ He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t worry me, I got paid to do a job for you. But your actions affect other people.’
Chris Taylor eventually looked up and made eye contact.
‘I feel bad about Top, y’know. He was a good man.’ He chewed his lip uncomfortably. ‘But he did what he did, it’s not my fault.’
Dan’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He glared at the youth in front of him and wondered how the hell this generation had ever come about. He looked away and fought back the red mist that was creeping around the edges of his vision.
Looking back at Chris Taylor, he considered his words carefully.
‘One day you’re going to have to stand on your own two feet,’ he said softly. ‘And one day, you’re going to realise that it’s not all about you.’ He saw the youth’s cheeks flush. ‘One day, son, you’re going to have to grow up.’
Chris Taylor opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. ‘I better get going,’ he mumbled sullenly, moving towards the driver’s door.
‘I’ll send you the bill.’ Dan turned on his heel and walked away.
Chapter Twelve
At five sharp Dan diverted the phones, shut down the computers, and flicked off the lights. He grabbed his bag from under his desk, set the alarm and locked the door behind him. With the bag over his shoulder he headed down the stairs towards the car park, his mind on the evening ahead and running through a mental checklist.
Mike’s ex-wife Penny was coming over for tea with her new boyfriend, some bigwig at the Crown law firm where she worked as a prosecutor and had also been tipped for a partnership; female partners were noticeable by their absence, and even Molly had commented that there was more than one way to the top.
She had knocked off earlier and was cooking, leaving Dan to pick up a couple of things on the way home. He walked through the arcade at ground level, passing the Post Shop and other businesses, waving to the accountant who was also closing up for the day, tapping his watch and grinning.
Dan came out of the arcade into the rear car park, suddenly stepping into the wall of traffic noise from the Southern Motorway, only a few metres away beyond a wooden fence. The Vectra was slotted into its spot against the fence and he moved towards it, becoming aware of another person nearby.
He glanced sharply around and saw Paul Brady step from behind a pillar towards him, barely five metres away. He was dressed in designer jeans and a warm up jacket. His gaze was focussed and locked on Dan, and his face looked pinched and taut. In his right hand he carried a short length of metal pipe, maybe two foot long.
Dan immediately dropped the bag from his shoulder into his hand and angled away from him, quickly checking either side for accomplices. There were none; there was nobody else around at all.
‘You owe me,’ grated Brady, coming towards him, the pipe still at his side. ‘You destroyed me, and now you owe me.’
‘You think?’ Dan kept moving, his eyes still on Brady, feeling in his pocket for his keys. Damnit, they were in his bag.
‘I don’t think. I know.’ Brady’s movements were quick and jerky, like a puppy on a lead.
‘Still on the burn then?’ Dan could see as Brady got closer that his eyes were hollow and red rimmed. ‘You look like you haven’t slept all week.’
‘Stop judging me!’ Brady suddenly screamed, his lips drawn back in a snarl, raising the pipe to shoulder height.
Dan stepped back, keeping his distance. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon.
‘Alright, chill out mate. Jeez.’ He was almost at the Vectra now. He glanced towards it, and saw both the driver’s side tyres were flat. ‘Damn builders down the road, I’m always getting flats.’
‘I did it,’ Brady snapped incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe Dan would not realise that.
‘Oh, really?’ Dan’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. ‘You don’t say?’
He stopped and waited, the bag still in his hand, taking shallow breaths in through his nose.
Brady’s eyes became pinpricks now as he got more focussed, and he flushed red.
‘You’re so arrogant!’ he snarled, ‘always judging me and disrespecting me! You don’t show me any respect!’
‘Yeah, well,’ Dan replied, his tone dismissive, ‘you don’t deserve any, so how about I give you a stamp and you go write a letter...’
Brady interrupted the insult, charging forward with the pipe raised to strike, screaming like a banshee. He covered the short distance very quickly and Dan barely managed to side step and avoid the swinging pipe, and pushed him away, getting some space.