Holy Orders

by Angus McLean

  I could feel eyes on our backs as we reached the next corner and turned. The screech and clang of the steel gates sounded in the otherwise quiet street.

  We ducked into a doorway and conferred.

  ‘Not many ways in,’ Molly noted.

  ‘Too true.’

  ‘What’re you thinking?’

  I inclined my head. ‘A frontal approach.’

  ‘Knock on the door and ask to be let in?’ She gave me sceptical, and rightly so. ‘Doesn’t sound like a great plan, genius.’

  ‘I was thinking more a peek over the fence. Get the rego of that Demio that just went in. Give it to the cops so they can roll the place and get us in there.’ I gave her a goofy grin and double thumbs up. ‘Foolproof plan, right there.’

  She gave me that look that wives have. ‘But is it Dan-proof?’ she said.

  ‘No. So we’ll keep it simple. We’ll rock along, I’ll boost you up, you peek over the fence and get the rego, and we’re away. Nobody’s the wiser.’

  She liked that better.

  We approached the compound again, painfully aware that we had already done a walk past so were now pushing the envelope. Fortunately this side had a stretch of low scrub along the side of the building and part of the steel fence.

  When we got to the fence part I shepherded Molly into the shadows and pulled her close.

  ‘Not really the time, Dan…’

  ‘Ssshh.’ I was about to boost her up when I heard voices over the fence. I could smell cigarette smoke. They were probably outside having a chinwag and inspecting their latest set of hot wheels. ‘Up.’

  The murmur of voices was interrupted by the bang of a door and excited chatter.

  ‘The pigs’re outside!’

  There was a scramble of movement. We’d been sprung.

  I glanced at Molly. I had a sick feeling in my gut and instantly regretted bringing her with me. These were not dudes to be tangled with.

  ‘It might be time to get out of here,’ I whispered.

  She nodded and started to move, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. ‘I mean me. You stay here.’

  ‘What? They’ll find me!’

  ‘They’ll be too busy chasing me to even look.’ I gave her the car keys and pushed her into the undergrowth. ‘Get in under there.’

  I could hear a car revving up inside the compound and the screech of the steel gate.

  A spotlight suddenly flooded us from somewhere above and I automatically turned towards it, ruining my night vision in the process. As I turned away I spotted the outline of a small CCTV camera up under the eaves of the building. Cursing myself for not seeing it earlier, I grabbed Molly’s hand and pulled her up. They were watching us. If she tried to hide she would be easy pickings.

  ‘Run,’ I said, ‘but stick with me.’

  We took off, racing down the footpath as fast as we could go. Molly yanked her hand free so she could pump her arms, staying hard on my heels. Neither of us was dressed for the Olympics and our training may have been ever so slightly behind schedule, but Usain Bolt had nothing on us that night.

  We reached the corner at the same time as a car blasted out of the compound after us. It’s amazing what adrenaline will do to you. We cut across the road to the other side, sprinting past a darkened factory of some sort, all high walls and no hiding places. The car screeched round the corner and its high beams hit us.

  A tall wire fence was coming up on the right and I shouted over my shoulder, ‘Up here!’

  I stopped, turned, and cupped my hands together in a stirrup. Molly skidded, grabbed my shoulders and threw herself up the fence. She was rolling over the top as I leaped up, the twin lights bearing down on me like heat-seeking missiles. I got my hands on the top and one foot hold, heaving myself up as the car side-swiped the fence beneath me.

  The roof of the car missed me by a hair, the fence shuddered, and I rolled over to land in an untidy heap on the other side. Molly grabbed me and we ran again, the roar of the big engine loud in our ears as it accelerated away.

  We were racing across an open yard, the factory building to our right and wire fencing on the other three sides. The car was sitting in the side road to our left, maybe fifty metres away, watching and waiting. What had seemed like a good idea at the time had left us trapped like rats in a barrel.

  I slowed my pace, moving towards the shadows of the factory. It was time to change tactics.

  ‘Call the cops,’ I panted. ‘We need some help here.’ I wished Mike was with us; he would’ve fronted these turkeys and kicked some ass.

  Molly was digging her phone out when I saw two guys getting out the back doors of the car. It looked like an early-nineties Mercedes, dark blue or black. The back lighting showed me that both guys were carrying baseball bats.

  They moved towards the fence and started to climb.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  I hustled Molly back the other way, ducking down and sticking to the shadows, hoping to buy a few seconds. The car stayed put until we reached the cover of a delivery bay with ramps on either side up to a wide rear roller door and an overhanging roof.

  Just past that I could see a narrow gap and realised there were actually two buildings side by side, the smaller one that formed the outside wall of the yard being long and narrow, maybe some kind of storage. Between them was a weedy, rubbish-strewn gap about a foot wide.

  I could hear running feet and shouts back in the yard as we hurried sideways down the alley, stumbling over unseen obstacles in the darkness. The alley opened into a patio-style area at the rear of the buildings with a couple of rectangular picnic tables, battered chairs scattered about and tins overflowing with discarded ciggie butts and coffee cups.

  A grassed area to the left gave access along the back of the factory building towards the yard we had just left.

  Directly ahead was a tall fence. I boosted Molly up again and she scanned before throwing a leg over.

  ‘Come on.’

  I took a running jump and scrambled up beside her.

  ‘Hey! Down here!’ The shout came from our left and running feet sounded.

  We dropped into the dogleg of an alleyway that went left across the back of the factory yard and straight ahead into the darkness. Another darkened building was on the other side of the broken fence across the alley.

  Together we raced straight ahead, lungs and legs burning. I could hear the car coming fast behind us, but hopefully the dog leg would slow it down. We made it to the end of the alley and cut left again, crossing one side street and into another. I’d pretty much lost my bearings by now but it didn’t matter; we just needed to keep moving.

  With any luck we’d hit a main road with lights and people and some semblance of safety.

  As we took another left I heard the car roaring behind us, appearing out of nowhere like the Grim Reaper. It was only a few seconds away.

  ‘In there! I’ll draw them away, you ring 111!’ We were coming past an apartment building with cars parked beneath it. The car park was all in darkness. I propelled Molly that way and cut to my right, out into the road.

  The Mercedes fish-tailed around the corner and lit me up like a possum, running like hell and trying to look over my shoulder at the same time.

  It bore down on me as I made it to the footpath, going for the safety of a six foot wooden fence. The Merc mounted the kerb, I leaped and got a handhold, the front wing smashed into the fence and the roof clipped my flailing feet.

  I was torn free of the fence and fell backwards, hitting the roof of the Merc on my back and rolling, the engine bellowing.

  A section of the fence collapsed and the Merc accelerated hard with me facing backwards and gripping the sides of the roof for dear life.

  ***

  Molly saw the car race off, bouncing wildly onto the road with Dan clinging to the roof. She started to move from behind the pillar she’d hidden behind, ducking back when she saw the two pursuers appear on the footpath.

  They were bo
th breathing hard and they stopped, leaning on their baseball bats like they were walking sticks.

  ‘That’s only one,’ one said, straightening up. ‘The other one’s hiding somewhere round here.’

  Molly tried to breathe deeply to get herself under control. This was not looking good. She knew that if these guys found her she’d be in serious trouble. She looked down at the phone in her hand, hiding the light of the screen against her body.

  No service. Typical.

  ‘Go back that way,’ one of the guys said, ‘I’ll look in here.’

  One of the two headed back round the corner and the other entered the apartment car park. He swung his baseball bat loosely in one hand, eyes scanning round.

  ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ he chanted, ‘come out, come out…don’t make me find you.’

  Molly’s heart was hammering in her chest as she stepped out from behind the pillar, her head down as she looked at the phone in her hand. The guy was only a few metres away, looking the other way.

  ‘Agh!’ Molly jumped with fright as she looked up, putting a hand to her heart and letting out a nervous laugh. ‘You scared me.’

  The guy stepped quickly towards her, squinting as he sussed her out.

  ‘Where’d you come from? What’re you doing here?’ he demanded, getting to within a metre, the baseball bat at his side.

  ‘My car’s over there.’ Molly gestured vaguely behind her, glancing back to her phone then to him again. ‘I live here.’

  ‘Did you see…hey…’

  He was cut short by the blinding blast of Molly’s LED torch straight in the eyes. He threw a hand up to shield his eyes, starting to curse her as he realised he’d been duped. His curse turned to a groan of agony when she buried her foot in his crotch like she was kicking the winning goal.

  The guy staggered and fell to his knees, dropping the baseball bat as he grabbed at his tender bits. Molly scooped up the bat, swung for the outfield and knocked him sideways with a flat strike across the upper arm.

  She tossed it aside and ran like hell.

  ***

  It’s not easy to hold onto the roof of a speeding car, despite what you see in the movies. I couldn’t see where we were going and my legs were flapping around behind me, unable to get a purchase. I felt the car slowing slightly then the driver hit the picks and threw it sideways.

  The momentum ripped me free from the roof and tossed me aside like a gum wrapper. I was airborne, arms and legs flailing wildly, seeing the dark night sky leaping around above me, lights streaking across my vision, until a Mack truck hit me at a million miles an hour and knocked the breath out of me.

  The Mack stopped dead and held me there. I may have been sideways or upside down, all I knew was that I was in a world of pain and couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t how I’d planned my night to end.

  Tyres screeched, an engine revved hard and a huge hunk of steel with gleaming red eyes flew towards me. Something in the back of my tiny brain told me this was bad and I should get away. I put all my effort into it and may have moved half an inch. The red-eyed monster was getting closer and I knew I was about to die.

  An image of Molly flitted across my mind’s-eye and I wished again that I’d left her at home that night.

  Animal instincts took over and I rolled, elbows tucked in and teeth gritted. The Merc flew past me, skidding again, and suddenly there was a loud crash. A shouted curse and another crash.

  I struggled to my feet, bent double and tried to run.

  ***

  Molly launched another rock at the Mercedes, hearing a satisfying crash as it hit a side panel. She grabbed the next decorative rock from the garden beside her and hurled it. The apartment building had a nice garden at the front entrance, up on the corner where the Merc driver had been trying to run Dan over.

  She could see her husband over on the far side, staggering like a Friday night drunk and clearly out of the game.

  The rock shattered the front passenger’s window and she grabbed another. Lights were starting to come on in the apartments above her. The third rock bounced off the bonnet of the Mercedes and she saw Dan go down like a skittle.

  ‘Oops,’ she murmured, ‘sorry honey.’

  The Merc revved and burned rubber, throwing a very smoky and very noisy 360 before peeling away. Molly started forward to go to Dan, but was yanked backwards by a hand on her arm.

  ‘C’me ‘ere!’

  It was the second guy from the foot chase, his snarling face right up in hers and his beer breath singing her nostrils.

  ‘Think you’re clever?’ He jerked painfully on her arm and cocked his baseball bat. ‘You’re gunna learn…’

  His head snapped sideways at the same time as she heard a meaty thump, and he released her arm. Dan was there, blood leaking down his face from a graze on his forehead, breathing hard. She could tell from the way he moved that he was in pain. He wore an expression she’d seen before, and she pitied the fool with the baseball bat. Pitied, but wished him the worst at the same time.

  The guy turned, swinging the bat at head height. Dan ducked stiffly, hooked him in the ribs, kicked his knee side-on and dropped him to the ground, squealing. The bat clattered to the footpath and Dan stepped in, fists and knees flying in a violent blur.

  The guy took multiple hits and sagged sideways to the ground. Molly grabbed Dan and pulled him away.

  ‘We need to go,’ she said.

  Dan gave the guy a last hook to make sure he was down then hobbled after his wife as fast as he could.

  Nine

  Mike’s face was normally sharp, even hatchet-like, but this morning it looked like he’d sucked a lemon. The biggest, most bitter lemon he could find on a Saturday morning.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he said at last, shaking his head at me. He leaned forward in his desk chair, elbows on his knees. He was the apex of a triangle between the three of us in the office. ‘So you almost get run over, end up riding on the roof of the bad guys’ car until they throw you off then try to run you over again.’

  He pointed a scarred finger towards Molly, sitting at her own desk. ‘You jump a dude with a baseball bat and kick him in the crackers, knock him out with his own bat, then throw rocks at the bad guys trying to run this turkey down’ – he jerked a thumb in my direction – ‘then the two of you take out the second guy with a baseball bat and make your escape.’ He looked from Molly to me. ‘Is that about it?’

  I tried to shrug nonchalantly but the coolness was diminished by a painful tug in my shoulder. My head was throbbing. I had a decent lump on my hip where a stray rock had collected me. In the interests of preserving our marriage, Molly and I had agreed not to discuss that any further. I had told her that we didn’t want to hit a rocky patch. She had told me I was an idiot, but she was sorry despite that.

  ‘More or less,’ Molly said.

  Mike shook his head and ran a hand through his short hair. ‘Unbelievable,’ he repeated.

  ‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ came a new voice from the doorway.

  A voice I loathed from a man I despised. Hugh Kennedy pushed the door all the way open, letting it bang against the wall as he stepped in. He stooped with his hands on his hips, his weasel face moving from one to the other of us.

  ‘Oh thank the Lord,’ I said, ‘Inspector Clouseau’s arrived.’

  Kennedy fixed me with a penetrating glare. I tried hard to stay resolute.

  ‘You’ve got some explaining to do, Crowley.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, getting to my feet, ‘I really do, don’t I?’

  ‘You’re damn right you do.’

  I cocked my head at him. ‘I just said that.’ I turned my attention to Mike. ‘Mate, that last Corona someone took from the fridge the other day?’ I let out a heavy breath and shook my head in shame. ‘It was me. I’m sorry.’

  Kennedy started to speak but I held up a hand for silence, shushing him. ‘Please, Hugh. I need to get this off my chest.’ I turned to Molly. ‘And when you left me
to do the washing yesterday, Mol? And you thought I’d done your whites on a cold wash, not a warm wash? And I said I hadn’t?’ I rubbed a hand over my face and stared at the floor. ‘I lied. I did it on a cold wash.’

  Molly looked hurt. ‘I’m so disappointed in you, Dan.’

  ‘Enough jibber-jabbering!’ Kennedy had both hands in the air, waving for attention. ‘This is a serious Police matter and you lot are acting like a bunch of schoolkids!’

  I smirked at him and sat back down at my desk. ‘Whaddaya want, Kennedy? And why’re you working on a Saturday, anyway?’

  ‘I have reason to believe you were involved in a violent street assault last night in Avondale,’ he said, fixing my chest with a withering stare.

  I waited. He tried to wait too, but I was better at it.

  ‘You too,’ he said to Molly.

  Molly waited. He glared at her. She waited some more.

  ‘Me three?’ Mike asked.

  Kennedy’s cheeks flushed. ‘Don’t be a clown.’

  Mike’s lips pinched. ‘Watch who you’re calling a clown, sunshine,’ he growled.

  Kennedy released one hip so he could jab a bony finger at the floor to emphasise his point. ‘I know you two were there and I want answers. Now!’

  ‘Show your cards, Kennedy,’ I told him, ‘and we’ll consider responding.’

  ‘There was a violent street fight last night, and you two were ID’d as being a part of it. There’s a guy in hospital with concussion and a cracked rib and a busted knee.’

  I nodded my understanding, and Mike gave me an approving look.

  ‘And another guy hobbling round who’ll probably never be able to have kids.’

  I shrugged. ‘I think we call that “crime prevention”,’ I murmured.

  Kennedy’s face darkened. ‘So you’ve got some explaining to do.’