Cold Cuts

by Calder Garret

  ‘Brad,’ said Arbor. ‘You didn’t play footy with him, did you?’

  ‘Not me,’ said Brad. ‘I played a bit of basketball and cricket as a youngster, but never footy.’

  ‘But your young bloke. Scott. He plays, doesn’t he?’ said Arbor.

  Too quick. Too soon. He knew it the moment the statement left his mouth. He could see both Gloria and Brad shift in their chairs. Brad leaned forward, pushing back at Arbor’s words.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘What are you getting at?’

  ‘No, nothing,’ said Arbor. ‘I was just …’

  Shit.

  ‘Do you know something?’ asked Gloria. ‘Has Paterson been …? Oh, God. No. Scottie! Scottie! Come here, love!’

  Scott came running. His mum embraced him.

  ‘You’re not suggesting?’ she said.

  ‘No. No, I’m not,’ said Arbor. ‘Hell, I’m sorry. I was just asking. I just need to find out what’s been going on. With the kids. There’s a whole town full. I need to know if he’s been …’

  Gloria was tearing up now. She was holding her son as if Arbor himself had threatened him.

  ‘If you’re suggesting …’ said Brad.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ said Arbor. ‘Honest, I’m not. I didn’t mean to imply …’

  Gloria was holding her son even tighter, squeezing. The boy looked confused. Arbor stood.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said to Brad. ‘Maybe I should go.’

  ‘Good idea, Constable,’ said Brad. ‘Maybe you should.’

  Arbor headed down the hallway towards the front door. Brad followed him.

  ‘I don’t know what your game is, Constable,’ said Brad, ‘but if you think going around town planting worry in people’s minds like this is a good idea, then … Well, you should know better, I reckon. A word of warning. I’ve been known to share a drink with your sergeant from time to time. Does he know what you’re up to? I bet he bloody doesn’t. I’ve a good mind to have a word with him.’

  He opened the door.

  ‘I just …’ said Arbor.

  ‘Tell it to the moon, Constable,’ said Brad Bennett. ‘Tell it to the fucking moon.’

  And he closed the door.

  Fabulous, thought Arbor. He had trouble imagining how the day could have gone any worse.

  He hadn’t expected Nathan to be still in the hotel, but the man was exactly where he had been several hours before, at the bar with his back to the door. It was as if he hadn’t moved. Arbor pulled up a stool beside him.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked.

  ‘No, go for it,’ said Nathan. He still seemed expressionless, sullen.

  ‘Managing to stay off the sauce?’ Arbor asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Nathan. ‘I’ve been on the Coke all day. It’ll be rotting my guts by now, I reckon.’

  Arbor ordered a cider.

  ‘Are you allowed to drink in uniform?’ asked Nathan.

  ‘Like I give a shit,’ said Arbor.

  There was no one else in the bar.

  ‘And besides,’ he continued. ‘I’ll be lucky to have a job tomorrow.’

  ‘What have you done now?’ said Nathan.

  Arbor groaned. Nathan laughed.

  ‘Flying by the seat of your pants again, Danny?’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t see you at training,’ said Arbor. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Ah, I just couldn’t face it,’ said Nathan. ‘Not with all this shit with Mandy going on.’

  ‘I meant to ask you earlier,’ said Arbor. ‘It’s not like you two.’

  ‘Ah, it’s been coming for a while, Danny,’ said Nathan. ‘She’s done all this behind my back, while I’ve been doing the right thing staying off the grog.’

  ‘I’m not sure you can blame her, Nathan,’ said Arbor. ‘I don’t know much about these things, but from what I’ve heard, it can happen to anyone. Gambling’s an addiction, too, you know, just like anything else.’

  ‘And the grog isn’t?’

  ‘Maybe she needs some counselling. There’s some good people over in Ashby, so I’ve heard.’

  ‘What, next to the racetrack?’

  ‘You are going to forgive her, aren’t you? Patch things up? Truly, mate. I can’t see you two not getting back together.’

  Nathan thought for a moment before sipping on his Coke.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure we will,’ he said. ‘I’ll miss Chopps too much. But I’m not in a mad hurry. I’ll let her stew for a while, I reckon. See if she repents.’

  He laughed at his own words. Arbor joined him.

  ‘That’s cruel, Nathan,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe so,’ said Nathan. ‘But I reckon she deserves it.’

  ‘Where are you sleeping, then?’ asked Arbor as they stepped onto the street. It was eleven o’clock, closing, and Arbor had just finished the last of his eight ciders.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Nathan. ‘Sean’s missus wouldn’t take me in. I guess I’ll find some soft grass somewhere. What about you? You’re not driving, are you?’

  ‘No,’ said Arbor. ‘I could crash in the back of the wagon, but there’s a nice comfy bed in the cell in the station. I reckon that’ll do me. I tell you what …’

  Arbor took out his keys and separated one from the pack.

  ‘Here,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind the walk, you can crash at my place. I’ve still got it until the end of the month. It’s empty, but it’s dry and you can put on the gas heater.’

  ‘You don’t mind?’ said Nathan.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Arbor. ‘And tomorrow morning, you can even cross the road and sort things out with Mandy, if you’ve a mind to.’

  Nathan hesitated, then took the key.

  ‘I owe you one,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch you tomorrow sometime.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ said Arbor. He watched as Nathan headed down Palm Street.

  Eight ciders can do some damage, he thought. Especially on a dinner of nothing more than chips and peanuts. But he had it in him to sneak into the station and into the cell without disturbing O’Reilly. If there were any questions tomorrow, he could answer them with a clear head. He sorted through his remaining keys and moved unsteadily towards the corner.

  ‘Well, hello, handsome.’

  It was Burke, standing outside the lounge bar, smoking.

  ‘Going my way?’ she said.

  ‘I’m headed for the cell,’ said Arbor. ‘I’m a bit pissed. I’m going to crash there.’

  ‘I could be persuaded,’ Burke continued.

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Sarge,’ he said. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  Burke dropped her cigarette and crushed it. She took the few steps towards Arbor.

  ‘I’m not so sure, Constable,’ she said. ‘It seems to me you haven’t given your girlfriend very much thought at all tonight. Have you? Leaving her all alone? And I can’t see what’s stopping you going just a little bit further … Think about it. I reckon the two of us could have a lot of fun in that cell if we locked ourselves in. What do you reckon?’

  She had a point. Or more than one. He hadn’t given Jenny a thought all night. And he knew he wasn’t about to call her now.

  ‘No, I … I’d rather not,’ he said, but he let her get close. Despite all attempts to resist it, the desire to cross the line with Anna Burke was strong in his mind. If not now, he considered, then when?

  Burke could see him hesitating. He felt her hand on his chest. Her other hand was moving lower.

  ‘Some of you is saying yes,’ she said.

  She took his hand and pulled him towards the station.

  ‘You, Constable,’ she said, ‘are in for the ride of your life.’

  By the time they had reached the door, his shirt was undone and Burke was frantically pulling at his trousers. As he fumbled the key into the lock, she reached up for him. Her lips hit hard. Her perfume overpowered him.

  ‘We’ve got to be quiet,’ he said. ‘I know O’Reilly sleeps like a log,
but he gets up in the night.’

  Burke didn’t answer. She just pulled him in and closed the door.

  ‘Lead the way, Constable,’ she said now. ‘I’m sure you know your way in the dark better than I do.’

  Arbor weaved his way between the desks. Now he could feel Burke’s hands inside his pants. Suddenly, he was having second thoughts. But what the hell, he thought. There was only one way out, and that was forward.

  The dividing door to the residence, and the cell, was closed. Arbor felt sure that, in the interests of privacy, O’Reilly would also keep his bedroom door closed. Their best bet would be to sneak into the cell as quickly as possible and close the door behind them.

  He could feel Burke’s hand feeling for him again, pulling at his pants and underwear. She laughed.

  ‘Shush,’ he said, pulling himself free. ‘Listen.’

  There was another noise, coming from inside. Was it O’Reilly snoring? Or an animal? Arbor couldn’t be sure. To his knowledge, O’Reilly had no pets. He turned on his torch and opened the door.

  ‘This way,’ he whispered. Letting the torchlight lead the way, he guided Burke towards the cell.

  In an instant, he had the answer to his curiosity. But, in the same instant, he felt every drop of passion leave his body. At the back of the cell, shining back at them like a fractured moon, was O’Reilly’s arse. And it was rocking and rolling inside the billowing skirt of Susie Crawford.

  Burke left, Susie left and then O’Reilly gave Arbor the biggest bollocking of his life. There would be more to come tomorrow, warned the sergeant. If he hadn’t been already, Arbor was now officially in O’Reilly’s bad books. The sergeant slammed the residence door in his face, leaving him to kill the lights in the station and let himself out. He would not, he had been told, under any circumstances, be sleeping on police premises.

  Fuck, he thought. In the matter of ten minutes, he had let a bad day get immeasurably worse. He stood for a moment, letting it all sink in. Then, in for a penny, he thought. He had come up with an idea earlier in the day. Now was the perfect time to carry it out.

  The evidence locker was situated near the kitchen. The key was taped to the wall behind the toaster. It was O’Reilly’s choice of hiding place, not his, the thinking being that only he or Arbor would ever be making toast.

  Although he felt sure that O’Reilly had already closed his eyes, he opened the locker door quietly. The knapsack was exactly where Burke had put it, on the top shelf. He slipped on a pair of gloves, removed it, and placed it on his desk.

  He shuffled through the photos once again, searching. There had been only the one, he determined, that had got him thinking. He found it once again, the bespectacled blond boy, Benjie Wood, and laid it flat against the kitchen table. He pressed the camera app on his phone, hit the flash button and then ran off a series of shots. He checked the images. All adequate for his purpose. Within seconds, the photos were back in the knapsack and the knapsack was back in the locker.

  Arbor replaced the key and left the station. His only problem now was finding a place to sleep. He was still well over the limit and dared not risk the drive to Jenny’s. And even if she was still interested, he had gone seriously off the idea of bedding down with Sergeant Burke. He could walk home and wake up Nathan, but that too seemed like a bad move. There was every chance he might walk into the middle of something there. There was only one option. He opened the back gate of the paddy wagon and climbed inside.

  WEDNESDAY

  Arbor woke with the sun and although still feeling the effects of the night before, he headed out to Jenny’s. The story, if she asked, would be that he talked Nathan through his troubles and had drunk just a few too many himself. He would not mention his dalliance with Burke. That was to be forgotten.

  As the sun grew warmer, he could feel his eyes begin to close. Not a good look for a cop, he thought, but, in this moment, he didn’t care. Luckily, the road was dead to traffic. Nevertheless, he paid special attention. He wound down the windows, gripped the wheel tightly and slowed to well below the speed limit.

  He could feel the relief that came with turning off the Melton road. The day before had exhausted not just his physical energy, but most of his spirit as well. It would be good to get inside, get something warm in his belly and have a hot shower.

  He came out from among the trees and slowed down as he approached the house. Strange, he thought. He normally parked the wagon close to the house. But this morning a white Ford utility had beaten him to the punch. Whose it was, he didn’t know. A flash of jealousy passed through him. What was going on, he wondered. And at this time of the morning? And a ute such as this was definitely a bloke’s vehicle. He parked the paddy wagon nearby and alighted. Peering into the utility for any sort of clue as he passed, he entered the house.

  Jenny was at the kitchen table with Tony Short. There was breakfast on the table and they were deep in conversation.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ said Jenny. ‘Decide to make a night of it, did you? You look a mess.’

  She moved to kiss him.

  ‘Yuk. And you stink, too.’

  Damn it, thought Arbor. It was Burke’s perfume. It had to be.

  ‘Good morning to you, too,’ he said, moving away.

  ‘Tony dropped in for breakfast,’ said Jenny. ‘We were just catching up on old times.’

  ‘Actually, it was you I wanted to see, Danny,’ said Tony. ‘I was wondering. Have you had any more luck, made any more advances, in your investigation? What you were saying the other night … at training … got me thinking. They might not admit it, but I reckon there might be a few of the blokes who came under Butch’s wing, so to speak. Most of the team were involved with the Nippers in one way or another … If you want, it’d be no bother. I’d be happy to keep an ear open for you.’

  It seemed strange to hear someone volunteering, but it was no more than what he had asked of Nathan. Fair enough, he thought. It couldn’t hurt.

  ‘Yeah, okay, Tony,’ Arbor said. ‘If you don’t mind. But don’t go getting yourself in trouble. The next day or two should see things falling into place anyway.’

  ‘Is that right?’ said Tony. ‘How so?’

  The photo. Arbor could feel it burning a hole in his pocket. Did he dare risk showing it to Tony? Tony was one of Benjie’s closest childhood friends. But maybe he could confirm what Arbor already suspected, that Benjie Wood had indeed been one of Paterson’s playthings.

  Arbor thought about it. Showing the man the photo might just be his most foolish move yet. It would break every rule in the book. But, on the other hand, it just might give the inquiry the kick-start it needed. To hell with it, he thought.

  In for a pound.

  ‘I’ll show you something, Tony,’ he said. ‘But I’ve got to ask you. You can’t say, okay? You can’t tell anyone I showed you this.’

  ‘Hell, it must be bad,’ said Tony.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘It’s part of our evidence,’ said Arbor. ‘I found it the other day. The original, at least.’

  He opened his phone, scrolled to the photo, and then zoomed in, if not to give a close up of the face, then at least to hide the more indecent parts of the image. He passed the phone to Tony.

  ‘Do you know who this bloke is?’

  He wouldn’t voice his suspicions. He didn’t want to sway Tony’s judgement.

  Tony looked at it long and hard. Eventually, he gave up.

  ‘No, sorry, mate,’ he said. ‘I don’t.’

  Shit.

  ‘Who did you think it was?’

  ‘Ah, I’d rather not say,’ said Arbor. ‘If it’s not him, I don’t want any false gossip getting around.’

  ‘Yeah, fair enough,’ said Tony. ‘Anyway, I’d better hit the tar. I’ve got seeding to do.’

  He got up and headed for the door. Jenny stopped him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Let’s not leave it so long.’

  ‘Y
eah, all right,’ he said. ‘Sorry I couldn’t help you, Danny.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Arbor.

  Arbor and Jenny watched as Tony climbed into his ute and departed.

  ‘Can I have a look?’ said Jenny, reaching for Arbor’s phone.

  ‘Yeah, sure you can,’ Arbor replied. ‘I’ll show you inside … Where’s Amira?’

  ‘Still in bed, I think,’ said Jenny.

  He held the door and they headed indoors.

  ‘A bit early for guests, wasn’t it?’ said Arbor.

  ‘What?’ said Jenny.

  ‘Ah, nothing,’ said Arbor. ‘It’s just—’

  ‘Are you jealous?’ said Jenny.

  ‘No, I’m not jealous,’ said Arbor. ‘I’m—’

  ‘God, you are, aren’t you?’ said Jenny.

  She laughed.

  ‘Tony and I are just friends,’ she said. ‘I told you. We were just catching up. Come and get some breakfast.’

  He sat at the table again while Jenny cracked some eggs.

  ‘So are you going to show me that photo?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ Arbor said, taking out his phone again. ‘I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want you giving anything away while Tony was here. Who do you reckon this is?’

  He passed her the phone. She studied the image deeply, her face wrinkling.

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Arbor said. ‘It’s pretty rough. What do you reckon? Do you reckon it might be Benjie?’

  Jenny was slow to respond.

  ‘I’m not sure, babe,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s not.’

  ‘No? Damn,’ said Arbor. ‘I was sure … Then who? There are stacks of photos of other kids, but I felt sure that this one …’

  Jenny used the zoom function to look more closely at the image. She took her time once again.

  ‘Don’t quote me on this, Danny,’ she said, ‘but … You wouldn’t pick it now, but when we were at school, there were two boys who looked so much alike, were so tight as mates, that they might as well have been brothers.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Benjie, am I right? And who was the other one?’