Fire Games

by Mark Stewart

  ROOKIE ALDERSON’S parents lived in an old house in the busy part of Melbourne. A small cottage garden containing a one and a half metre tall windmill greeted the two Detectives. Azalea plants boarded the short gravel path to the front door.

  “Sugar, this isn’t going to be pretty.”

  He grunted and rang the front door bell.

  “Claire, I hear footsteps. In ten words or less tell me the autopsy report on the elderly couple.”

  “All four died in their sleep of smoke inhalation. They never knew their fate.”

  The front door lock clicked, and the door started to open.

  “Your report contained fourteen words.”

  “Smart arse,” she murmured.

  Kendal smiled at a tall, thin grey haired woman. He extended his hand.

  “Mrs. Alderson, may we come in?”

  The woman patted flour off the pink apron she wore around her waist and shook his hand.

  “Certainly, you can. Alan, Claire, it’s good to see you again. I’m cooking scones. Do you have time for a cup of tea?”

  Kendal’s smile fell. He hated this moment. If he agreed to the woman’s request, she might not want him to stay and was only being polite. If he said no she might take offence. He tactfully decided which road to take.

  “I’ll delay my answer for the moment.”

  Mrs. Alderson sent him a worried look.

  “Very well, Alan. Just to let you know, I’ve no bad feelings towards you over my baby’s death. On the other hand, Joe is very angry. He hasn’t had a good night sleep since the funeral. I’m not sure he’ll ever get over the death of our daughter. Fortunately, he takes his anger out on the wood pile.”

  The moment Claire stepped into the lounge-room she spied a large picture of RA and her sister, Kate, hanging off the wall. Sepia and colour photos were hanging like a shrine off every wall. At least a dozen small candles with a dancing flame were dotted about the room.

  “That picture you’re looking was taken the day Susie graduated from the police academy,” explained Mrs. Alderson. “Kate, my baby, was sixteen. I never knew she’d fallen into the prostitution trap. Easy money, she told me.”

  Kendal studied the photo for a few moments before facing the woman.

  “Kate happened to be high on drugs when the photo was shot. My words might sound cruel; it’s a fact. The whole mess wasn’t anyone’s fault. I was only doing my job.”

  The woman looked up into his eyes. “You sound convincing. I’m positive in time I’ll be okay.”

  Kendal knew she lied. He felt numb knowing she’d soon learn the fate of her only remaining daughter. He watched tears cascade down over the woman’s cheeks. He buried his emotions by looking away.

  Sniffing back a tear, the old woman fumbled for a scrunched tissue she had buried in her apron pocket. She unraveled the white square and wiped her eyes.

  “Come and sit down. I’ve something important to say,” whispered Claire, in a soothing voice.

  “Mrs. Alderson, while Claire explains what’s been happening I’ll wander outside and talk to Joe.”

  The rhythmic cracking of someone splitting wood grew louder the closer Kendal walked along the narrow hallway to the outside. At the back door, he watched a short, stocky, balding, unshaven man, wielding an eight-kilo wood splitter high in the air. In one tremendous downward stroke, the thick wooden log split in two. The man reached for another log to repeat the performance. The moment he heard the sounds of a crying woman from deep inside the house, Kendal stepped outside.

  “Mr. Alderson, can you spare a minute for a chat?” called Kendal.

  The man picked up another log and went through the motions of splitting it. Kendal called again.

  The man stopped the downward thrust of the wood splitter. He stared at Kendal through angry eyes.

  “I heard you the first time,” he growled. “Leave me be.”

  “I’ve something important to discuss.”

  The man spat at Kendal. “Get out. Get out of my house.”

  “It is important I speak to you.”

  The man tightened his grip on the splitter and stepped closer.

  “Joe put the splitter down.”

  “Coppa, I warned you to leave. Now it’s too late. I’m gonna do to you what the prison inmates did to my daughter. I’m gonna cut your knees off. I won’t kill you like they did my youngest daughter. When you beg me to finish you off, I’m gonna let you live. I want you to suffer more than I have.”

  Alderson started swinging the wood splitter in circles above his head. Kendal had a perfect close-up view of a snake tattooed on both of his forearms. The speed of the splitter’s revolutions quickly increased.

  “I can tell you’re scared, Coppa. Now beg. I wanna hear you beg. I wanna hear you squeal louder than a pig. The prison guards told me my daughter did. Are you petrified yet?”

  Kendal returned a casual gaze in an attempt to diffuse the scene. He didn’t want to shoot. However, Alderson looked determined to see his threats accomplished. Kendal pulled his gun from its holster and leveled it at Alderson’s heart.

  The big man shuffled closer. “Come on, squeal for mercy.”

  Kendal slid his gun back into its holster. He waited for the splitter to pass his head before lunging. He pushed Alderson in the ribs. Joe overbalanced fell backwards and dropped the splitter. Eight kilos of metal and wood crashed to the ground. Kendal stepped forward, swung a clenched fist, hitting Alderson square on the chin. Instead of going down, he grabbed Kendal’s wrist and pulled hard sending him over his broad shoulders. Kendal managed to complete a tumble roll before being squashed against the shed door. The doorknob embedded in his stomach, winding him.

  “Don’t move Coppa.”

  Kendal checked for his gun.

  “Don’t fret; this is yours. I snatched yaw gun from its cradle, just like the law snatched my baby from her cradle. I did it when you’se was flyin’ over me shoulder.” Alderson let out a wicked laugh. “Prepare to have your knees blown off.”

  Kendal remained stone calm. He hunched into a boxer’s stance and stepped towards Joe.

  “Come on big fella; I’m ready for a re-match.”

  Alderson wore a murderous grin as his finger constricted on the gun’s trigger. “I’m not goin’ to fight you, Coppa. You won’t beg I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

  “I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you, sucker,” yelled a deep voice from behind Alderson’s left shoulder.

  The big man turned around to face the voice. Kendal relaxed his fists, allowing his arms to hang loose. Slowly he reached for the Beretta strapped to his ankle.

  “Nobody move, including you, Kendal. I’ve a Smith and Wesson sweeping the air between you and the gorilla.” The mouth behind the balaclava laughed. “You should be thanking me, Coppa.”

  “Why?”

  “Hey, I just saved your existence. This big goon was about to pull the trigger.”

  “I’ll never thank you, Patrick,” jeered Kendal.

  “Maybe I’ll shoot you myself to save Alderson the trouble.”

  “I doubt it. You’d break the rules.”

  “On second thought, I’ll let you two chaps fight it out.”

  “How did you know I was here?” questioned Kendal.

  Footsteps from inside the house interrupted the standoff. Claire resembled a greyhound chasing a rabbit around a racetrack. She pushed the back door nearly off its hinges. She was airborne before anyone could move and collided with Patrick, knocking him to the ground.

  Chaos erupted.

  Alderson charged at Patrick and Claire. Kendal heard a click from his gun as he sprinted to intercept. He belted Alderson in the jaw using a right jab and handcuffed him in one slick move. Claire’s left knee bumped the ground. She screamed and started wallowing on the ground. Patrick leapt high in the air yelling for everyone to freeze. He pointed the gun at Claire, and the chaos instantly subsided.

  Kendal threw his snub nose gun onto the ground.
Patrick bent down and pulled Claire to her feet by her hair.

  “Hey,” she yelled.

  “Hey, is my word,” bellowed Patrick. “Everybody stop moving or this Sheila cop accepts a bullet.” To prove a point he pushed the barrel of the revolver into Claire’s ear.

  “Patrick, I see you’re left-handed,” growled Kendal.

  He replied by sending him a cold murderous look. Hearing RA’s mother, screaming and seeing her standing in the doorway, Patrick stared at her.

  “Shut up and join the others.” He waved the gun at her before pushing it into Claire’s ear. “I’d love to stay and party, but I have plans to finish. The game will soon be over. Hey, Alderson, I forgot to mention why the cops are here. You had a daughter named Susie. She’s dead.” He laughed and dragged his hostage towards the back gate. “Kendal, once again, it’s been a pleasure. Next time we meet things will be different.”

  Patrick pushed Claire towards the group, disappearing through the closing gate.

  After Kendal successfully blocked Claire’s fall, he sprinted up the drive. By the time he reached the road Patrick was gone.

  Still handcuffed Alderson curled up on the ground. Claire squatted and filled him in on the few remaining details. She stood the moment Kendal approached.

  Kendal stooped and unlocked the handcuffs. Alderson clutched his head in both hands. She curled his fingers into white-knuckled fists.

  “Except for me wife, I’ve got nothin’. I’m ready to finish you off.”

  “It’s not my partner you need to fight, it’s Patrick,” blurted Claire.

  The big man uncoiled his fists. He extended his arm. Both men shook hands.

  “S’pose I’m in big trouble?” Alderson moaned. He watched Kendal retrieve his gun from the ground.

  “Forget it. I’d do the same if it happened to me.”

  “I don’t understand something,” said Alderson. “I pulled the trigger of ya gun. You’se should be dead.”

  Mrs. Alderson put her arm around her husband.

  Kendal extracted six bullets from his coat pocket. “Not even close.”

  “What’s all this?” bellowed a voice from the back gate. The big-bellied man sent each person a glacier look.

  “Captain Hughes,” chirped Claire, her face turning bright red. She grabbed her cap and hurriedly placed it on her head. “Good morning. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I sure did surprise you all,” he bellowed a second time. “I don’t like what I see.”

  Kendal slid his gun from sight and slipped the bullets undetected back into his coat pocket.

  “Patrick’s disappearance is a mystery,” said Kendal.

  He eyeballed the Captain suspiciously. Claire’s idea flashed into his mind and wondered if she had been right from the start. After all, Captain Hughes did have blue eyes, is left-handed and came through the gate soon after Patrick absconded. He covered his thoughts and gave a flat smile.

  “I can explain.”

  “No need. As of now, you’re off the case.”

  “Cap, I can explain.”

  “I don’t care. You’re goofing off, and I don’t like it. What would your wife say if I told her you weren’t looking for your daughter?”

  “But I can explain.”

  “Don’t you want Tegan found alive?”

  Claire jumped to her partner’s defense.

  “Al was explaining RA’s death to her parents when Patrick turned up.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you catch the bum?”

  “No.”

  “It’s another good reason why you’re off the case. Claire, the case is yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to see first-hand where RA died. I then have to speak to the big brass and make peace. When the dust has settled, I have to arrange Susie’s funeral.” He switched his attention to her parents. “That’s if it’s okay?”

  Through her sobs, Mrs. Alderson thanked the Captain. Her husband’s shoulders slumped, shaking everyone’s hand.

  Kendal made a mental note the man’s hands were rougher than sandpaper. He presumed they had seen a lot of the wood splitter’s handle since the loss of his eldest daughter. Kendal looked him in the eyes, wondering how many hours were still to come.

  Before leaving Captain, Hughes pointed at Kendal.

  “Go home. Sit the remainder of this case out.”

  Both Detectives watched Hughes walk towards his car and drive off. They gave their condolences to the Alderson’s, wished them well and marched up the drive.

  “I thought the Captain acted strangely,” said Claire.

  “Me too,” mumbled Kendal. “We need to uncover proof your idea is correct. We need to unmask Patrick.”

  “We?” questioned Claire. “The Captain ordered you off the case.”

  Kendal displayed a mischievous grin. “When do I listen to Captain Hughes?”

  Claire slipped her arm around his waist. “Sugar, I’ve been around you too long. I knew you’d say that. Where to now?” she quizzed.

  “First, back to the archery club for my car. Patrick conveniently let the air out of a tyre. Second, I want to confront Hughes on losing this case. He didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE