Ben ventured further, knowing what waited. He kept the steps slow hoping for a call telling him Ivan was drunk and comatose on his bed. He wanted to hear Ivan’s bellow of anger at the heat radiating through his building. But all he could see were the blood splatter on the lick of shower curtain stuck to the lip of the bathtub. Ducks and sea horses sat in a sea of red. Ivan’s battered head showed above the curtain. Someone had tucked it beneath his chin, like they’d settled him in for the long sleep.
Ben had tired of breathing through his mouth and tasting the foul odor. His body sobbed and he choked on the stench. He fell back to the toilet and threw up. Loubie and Tommy stood at the door, watching Ben trying to find something solid in his gut to expel. He slipped to the floor, and his head fell back between the toilet and the wall. He looked at Loubie and shook his head, slow and ponderous, his face screwed as he tried to cry. He choked, his body shook, but no tears fell. ‘Fuck.’ He dropped his head. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if bloody Nab was around.’
Loubie knelt beside him. ‘This isn’t your fault. I left him on his own, too, but it isn’t my fault either. Some arse battered him. Not you. Not me.’
‘Come on, Ben,’ Tommy said. He stood at the door. ‘We need to call Wynona, but let’s get out of this room.’
Claudia paced the downstairs. ‘What are you doing?’
Her next sentence stopped when she saw the color to Ben’s face. ‘Oh shit,’ she said. ‘Is it worse upstairs?’
‘Ivan’s dead,’ Tommy said.
‘Who? Is it a robbery?’
‘Ivan’s got no money,’ Ben said. His voice lacked vigor. He looked at Claudia and shook his head. ‘Ivan made no money here. We drank here because he let us. Nowhere else allowed us access, eh Tommy.’
Tommy smiled. ‘It was a shit hole, but it had character. It had Ivan. And Charlie.’
‘Can you call the ambulance to get them out of here,’ Ben said. ‘I’m going with Claudia to get her boy.’
Ben took his phone from his pocket and tapped for Wynona’s number. ‘Hi ya.’
Wolf Girl grunted in reply. ‘You back?’
‘Ivan’s dead.’
Silence followed and Ben waited, knowing Wynona and Ivan had a long history of friendship. ‘He’s taken a beating and now sleeps in his bath. Some prick has turned the heating up big time and the smell is gross. He’s probably not been dead so long, but the heat has turned him rotten.’
‘I’ll get my Sarge on the case. I’ll just say a customer reported the damage. You can’t be found there.’
‘So let’s leave it a bit. He’s not going anywhere. Loubie needs to get organized and get our stuff out of this place. I’m taking Claudia to go and get her kid. I can’t stay here and I’m assuming the kid’s not at the station, eh?’
‘No.’
‘Do you want to meet at Max’s?’ Ben asked.
‘Yeah, let’s get Claudia sorted first. And then we’ll decide what we’re going to do with you. Then maybe we’ll get Ivan looked after.’
‘Poor old Charlie’s had a similar fate. What arse has done this, eh? Barney’s no killer, is he?’
‘No, well yes, but this isn’t his form.’
‘It’s a blood bath. Someone has gone all chainsaw on their sorry arses.’
‘We’ll find them. You and me. We’ll see Ivan and Charlie get treated right. That we can promise them.’
***
Max lived in Old Ostere on a tree-lined street populated by detached, three-story houses. Wide verandahs were compulsory. No less than two bulbous bay windows per house. Turrets and attics abounded and a load of chimneys front and center spewed coal smoke into the night. Large, leafy gardens fronted the properties behind tall, iron gates with old, arthritic trees on guard.
Claudia parked by the river next to Ostere Rowing Club’s private car park. She led Ben through a narrow alley. Hoods shrouded their faces as they slunk along Max’s adjoining property. Before they hit the top of the lane, a patrol van cruised past, shining a powerful beam into the gardens of the houses. Ben pushed Claudia to the wall and crouched low as the light flashed across their bodies.
Max’s house stood behind an electronic iron gate with ornate gold spikes. Tall elderly elms dominated the front of the building. A slate path led to a set of wide steps and a double-arched door. Left and right bay windows reached out to the grass and a balcony overlooked the front steps. A trellis covered the right side of the property, loaded with dead vines. Thick trunks curled about iron supports. The vines pulled at the trellis, curling into the eaves. Attics with peaks and ornate windows complimented the monstrous building. The front garden bore witness to neglect. Long grass carpeted both sides of the pathway and weeds sprouted from cracked slates.
‘Jesus, this is one creepy property. I’m assuming the gardener died long ago.’ Ben and Claudia cowered in the building’s shadow watching for patrol cars. ‘That vine is eating the building. Do you think we’ll find the gardener in there, trying to hack his way out?’
‘Fuck off with the shit about a gardener. That’s my path, my ladder to the top floor.’
A car turned into the road. Claudia pointed at the tree dividing the two properties and heaved her arse into the foliage. Dogs barked from within the van as it passed beneath the tree.
Ben followed the girl deep along a wide limb. He hid behind the trunk of the tree as the guard jumped from the van. He rattled the gate and it swung inward.
‘That’s not right,’ he said to the driver. ‘I thought it looked open. Should I check about the grounds?’
‘I’ll call it in.’
Ben eased back against the trunk of the tree. Claudia’s breath brushed his cheek. A soft touch of her leg against his thigh and a hand brushed his hair as she shifted her position in the tree.
‘Boss says to pull it shut. All passwords accounted for.’
The van moved forward and the guard jumped back through the open door for the short journey to the next house. Claudia scrambled across the thick branch, pushing leaves from her path until she sat above the next houses garden.
‘Where you going, girl? Why didn’t we go through the gate?’
‘That’s too obvious. He’s expecting me, isn’t he, and he has cameras everywhere, except my old bedroom.’
She laughed. ‘Bastard did have, for real.’ She couldn’t see Ben’s expression in the dark of the tree, but she guessed she’d shocked him. ‘Don’t worry about Max. He likes to watch, but he don’t generally touch, no way. I’m going in through the first floor window. It’s been a tradition since I was little. I’m suggesting you hit the back door.’
‘Why am I going through the back? How am I going through the back?’
‘The gate shouldn’t be open. It locks automatically. There is no way my father ever leaves that gate open.’
‘So?’
‘Your mate Peg Leg’s in the building, that’s my guess, so we need to move. I’m going in through the neighbor’s tree that leads to my old room. You’re going to attack from the back giving us two options, just in case Peg Leg gives us grief with Lucas.’
Ben dropped to the soft grass and watched as Claudia fell like a stone, a big oomph marking her landing. He offered her a hand to stand, but she slapped it away with a muttered expletive. As his hand swung back, she grabbed it and pulled herself upward, and Ben fell into her body.
Again he felt her breath on his cheek. ‘Not the time for dancing, eh?’
‘As if.’ She pushed Ben out of her path. ‘I’m going up that tree and over the fence and climbing the wisteria to my bedroom. If you take off down the side of this property, you’ll come to the river. Our properties have no fence between them by the river’s edge. You can cross into my father’s place.’
Claudia gripped the lowest limb and swung up into the tree. ‘I need you to secure the boat,’ she whispered from the first branch. ‘Make sure the key is still kept in the second post on the jetty. We’re going to need a plan B if it goes to shit and the
river is a better escape route than the road.’
‘Wow, I like your thinking. It’s got a motor, eh? I don’t do rowing so well.’
Ben watched Claudia disappear into the wood and leaves, before running for the river. He kept to the left side of the property, following a patchwork path leading through a small gate. It opened onto an open carpet of grass with flowerbeds. Ben stepped out of the shadow of the tall wide house and ran for the river.
Small boat lights reflected on the fast flowing water. The jetty posts glowed with dull reflections. Ben stepped onto the wooden jetty and followed the loose wet planks to Max’s property. He ran his hand over the second pillar, the large white boat bobbing against the rubber bumper tires. The key sat in a small plastic box, a thin strip magnet holding it inside a metal-lined shelf. The boat had to be thirty foot, with seating at the back, a sun deck and a raised driving area. Attached to its arse sat a smaller boat with a raised outboard motor.
‘Good one, Claudia,’ he muttered. ‘It’s like doing a bank job in a Bentley, eh? And me thinking I might be rowing.’
The back of the house showed little life. A cat hissed from the darkness and Ben felt at the gun in his pocket. ‘Watch it pussy cat. I’m armed and in need of target practice.’ A light shone in the house, but it offered little illumination to the long stretch of ground to be traveled. As Ben stepped away from the jetty a bright light spot lit the untidy garden, blinding Ben’s path through the long grass. He tripped over rocks and dodged the pond with the sound of water dribbling and splashing. Two glass doors opened to a conservatory with tables and a small wooden drinks bar with high stools in attendance.
Ben stepped inside the silent house, creeping toward a staircase set to the right of the room. The vodka sitting on the back bar whispered to him as he passed and he smiled at the bottle and its seductive taunt.
It has been an age, he reasoned. The crack of the seal breaking brought a smile to his face. The first tug on the bottle burnt, but revived his spirits. The second tug suggested he rest a while. He sat back on the stool and contemplated finishing the bottle, while calling Wynona. She answered in mid slug, and he spluttered vodka on the floor. He placed the bottle back on the bar and stepped to the stairs.
‘Hey, Wolf Girl,’ he said. ‘You all right?’
‘Where are you?’ Wynona sat on her motorbike, her booted foot resting on the gutter lining the top of Max’s street.
‘Just entered Max’s through the back. Where are you?’
‘Close. Is there any sign of the boy?’
‘No, but he’s here. Claudia’s sure of it.’
‘Be careful of Peg Leg. I’ve been through Barney’s back records and Peg Leg was his sergeant back in the day. He’s working with Barney.’
‘Why?’
‘To draw you out is my guess. Barney’s likely to be close and it’s making me reluctant to join in this part of your journey. If I do, I’ll be keeping low profile, just watching your back. Have you got Tommy with you?’
‘No, I left him back at the Poet. Why?’
‘Peg Leg and him have history. Both Peg Leg and Barney have got agendas. You got to be careful. They aren’t used to playing nice or fair.’
‘How long you going to be?’
A figure stood at the top of the stairs holding a gun at his side. He looked down at Ben as Ben tried to focus in the dark. The two men chose not to speak, Ben searching for a word or phrase to stop the gun pointing and firing. Ben stepped upward with his hands held out and faced the man. A second figure joined Peg Leg.
‘Mr. Jackman, I presume,’ said Barney.
‘Oh Peg Leg, I expected better from you. This man is a cop who likes to beat up on innocent folk. Oh, my mistake. You two are a perfect match.’
‘Sir to you, Private.’
‘You still looking for the bag?’ Ben said.
The phone squawked in Ben’s hand. He lifted it close.
‘Me and Wolf are dead close. Hang in there.’
He replaced the phone, dropping it with care into his black combat trousers. His eyes remained on the floor. He didn’t want to see the muzzle or the bullet.
‘Where’s Tommy the Car?’
‘You still pissed about Tommy shooting you? I wouldn’t take it personally. Tommy was pissed with the death of his brother. He was looking to vent and you got in the way.’
‘I gave Claudia a message that if she wanted Lucas she needed to give me Tommy the Car. So where is he?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘Are you coming up here, or you going to stay down there?’
‘Not bothered really. Die here, die there, eh?’ Ben understood killing a little and he felt Peg Leg liked to kill. As Barney ran with Peg Leg, he imagined killing gave him a similar thrill. War buddies and participants in some horrendous conflicts, Ben guessed. He’d seen the sadistic bent to the man when talking with Loubie. But they hadn’t shot him. He felt they might enjoy drawing his death out, make some sport of the process. Maybe play with him, bat him about a bit before the end. Peg Leg wanted Tommy so this offered Ben hope. And they didn’t know about his association with Wolf Girl and that Claudia was in the house. And Ben knew Claudia wanted to give Peg Leg grief for his treatment of her child.
Peg Leg stepped back as Ben ascended the marble steps. Barney led the procession across the wooden floored foyer. A large, arched doorway led to the front yard and two black doors with frosted glass sat on either side of the entrance. To his right a staircase wound up to the first floor carpeted in moth-eaten, ruby-red carpet. A single bulb from an ornate chandelier struggled to hold back the gloom. Ben followed the direction of the gun, heading for the back of the foyer to a smaller door marked private. As he passed beneath the staircase, his phone beeped. He didn’t reach for the device, but prayed it was Wolf Girl announcing her arrival. He chanced a glance to the back stairs and a set of eyes glowed in the dark. A growl, low and subtle rumbled.
Barney stopped and turned to the sound. ‘What was that?’
‘What?’
The gun poked at Ben’s back and he stumbled forward into a darkened room. Peg Leg followed, but Barney hesitated, offering the foyer a last glance before entering the room. He strode past Ben to a desk and flicked a switch. A bright light spotted a white screen with a chair facing the light.
‘Take a seat,’ Barney said. ‘I found this room last time I was here. That sick fuck upstairs photographs kiddies in here.’
Ben stepped past a tripod and a ring of white umbrellas surrounding the seat. Peg Leg kicked at a roll of plastic, bubble wrap, so that it unrolled across the floor. He stepped hard on the plastic, the loud popping noise pleasing him.
‘Get your phone out,’ Barney said to Peg Leg. ‘We’ll get his confession on camera. Send it off to the papers. Just don’t get in the shot yourself.’
‘Sit,’ Peg Leg said. He accompanied the command with a jab of his rifle.
Ben eased onto the metal chair, the cushioned seat too small to accommodate his arse. He turned away from the light, but Barney stood so he had to look into the glare.
‘You are wanted by the army for desertion,’ Barney stated. ‘You are wanted for the murder of one Marvin Cooper. And I believe you are wanted for the massacre at Ostere Academy School. Oh, and I can’t forget about the two coppers found in the dumpster outside Ostere morgue. You’re especially wanted for that crime.’
Barney waited for Ben’s reaction to the statement, but Ben wasn’t talking. He kept his head down, his eyes out of the glare. He knew he had back up, and there was no reason to kowtow to Barney’s theatrics.
‘Are you not talking to me Mr. Jackman? I’ve been told you can be a chatty chap.’ He looked back at Peg Leg. ‘Can we turn the phone off for a bit?’
The phone lowered and Barney stepped into the light and slapped him hard across the face. Ben cried out and fell to the floor. Barney stood over him and kicked at his gut, his foot missing as Ben rolled out of reach.
‘Bastard,’ Barney yelle
d.
At the back of the room, a dark figure scurried in the shadows behind the bright lights. It was silent but swift. It stopped by a metal cabinet and cupboard, watching the action. At the doorway the large grey shape of a wolf watched the action in the spotlight.
Peg Leg lifted Ben, holding his arms at his back while Barney heaved a big old right punch to his gut. Ben exhaled with the blow and rode the punch, but it still dug deep into his abdomen. Barney dumped him back in the chair.
‘This is pointless,’ Peg Leg said. ‘He pushed the rifle close to Ben’s face. Ben focused on the grip, rocking gently to ease the pain in his gut. He watched the trigger finger resting against the barrel. ‘What’s the point of a confession? The reward is just as good if we bring him back dead.’
‘I want him alive,’ said Barney. ‘The Man wants someone to hang. I, as an officer of the law, want a confession.’ He swung again, a solid fist connecting with Ben’s cheekbone.
Wynona wanted to step in and prevent Barney and Peg Leg torturing Ben, but she didn’t want to fight with Barney. He was already suspicious of her persona and blamed her for letting Ben walk the day they visited the Old Poet. She kept to the shadows, wishing she’d not come in uniform. With a balaclava and Wolf at her side, she might’ve taken the two men and helped Ben escape.
A desk sat before her with a panel of switches, cameras and a box of flash bulbs. She panned the room stopping on the white umbrellas lining the stage. She understood their purpose, but needed Barney and Peg Leg in a position that would make the lights a weapon.
Ben spat a globule of bloodied spit on the floor. He tried to lift his head, but a spasm of pain ripped through his chest.
‘I’m not happy with you, Ben,’ Barney said. He stepped on the bubble wrap, the pops loud in the room. He stopped at Ben’s back, his hands resting on Ben’s shoulders.
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