by Mark Stewart
TEGAN WAVED to Sam standing at the entrance to the lane for the last time before starting her journey. Deciding to take a shortcut through the park, she eventually saw St Kilda road in the distance. There was five stationary trams nose to tail. A mob had gathered near the first tram.
Halfway through the park, Tegan stepped onto a cracked concrete cricket pitch. A flame coloured curly haired boy rode his pushbike at speed to intercept her.
“Hi there, sweet stuff,” he said, slowing to walking pace.
“Hi, yourself,” replied Tegan.
“Do you live close by?”
“No.”
The lad rode ahead and used his bike to cut her path. Tegan moved to go around the bike. The boy reached out and grabbed her arm.
“What’s your name, sunshine?”
“Let me go,” snarled Tegan.
“You have to cough up your name.”
“Why should I?”
“You have to pay to walk through my park.”
“Your park?” quizzed Tegan.
“Yep, ain’t she a beaut? Look, we started off on the wrong foot. You come across as a nice girl. I’m Arnold. You are?”
“I’m not willing to say my name to a kid who wears a razor blade in his ear.”
“I’m glad you noticed it. Makes me look cool, don’t you think?”
“It makes you look stupid.”
“All the other girls who walk across my park say it looks good.”
“Tell me, what does it cost to get to the other side of your park?”
“A long pash will get you all the way to the other side of the oval.”
“Forget it.”
“I can’t guarantee a safe trip if you don’t pay.”
“Who’s going to stop me?” jeered Tegan, looking around.
Arnold threw off his jacket to reveal a snake tattooed on his left arm. “Me.”
“Do you think I’d be scared of a skinny arm and a fake tattoo?”
“Come on; we’re both sixteen, pucker up.” Arnold placed his hands-on Tegan’s hips.
“I was twelve on my last birthday.”
“Liar,” hissed Arnold. “You’ll pay for lying. You’ll be paying me double.”
“Doubling zero is zero.”
Tegan pushed past Arnold and started to walk off. He grabbed her arm again. She kicked out at the boy’s shin. He winced at the pain, overbalanced and fell over his bike.
“I’ll get you,” yelled Arnold, watching Tegan beginning to run. His voice trailed off into inaudible whimpers as he cradled his shin.
By the time, Tegan got to the tram the crowd was already seated and were engrossed in chatting about the incident with the knife-wielding lad. Tegan saw an ambulance leave and spotted her father placing Claire onto the back seat of a taxi. She saw him snatching out his mobile phone from his pocket and talk to someone.
“Dad, I’m here,” Tegan yelled.
Oblivious to his daughter’s calls, Kendal slipped onto the front seat of the taxi. Picking up her pace, Tegan managed to open the car door and jump onto the back seat. Kendal saw movement in the rear-view mirror and swung around.
Claire, Tegan, and her father stared gob-smacked at each other. A few seconds later and the trio yelled at the same time. Leonard looked on, displaying a bewildered expression.
“You escaped.” Kendal cheered, pulled his daughter into the front seat. They gave each other a bear hug. “Are you okay? Are you hurt in any way?”
“No. Dad, I have important information. I know Patrick’s identity.” She cupped a hand around her mouth and whispered her news.
“You’ve done well. I just need the proof. I have to catch Patrick in the act.”
“I understand. We have to set a trap. I promise to have nerves of steel if I ever see Patrick unmasked again.”
“Just like your old man,” groaned Claire, shaking her head.
Tegan clambered over to the back seat and gave Claire a bear hug.
“Leonard, this is my daughter,” Kendal announced, blinking away his tears.
“G’day.”
“Hello.”
“Sugar, we have company.”
Captain Hughes spied Kendal and stopped his car next to Leonard’s taxi.
Kendal ushered Tegan out of the car. Both stepped onto the road, staring at Captain Hughes.
“I’ve great news,” bellowed Kendal.
“I can see the good news. Tegan, my you’ve grown. How are you feeling?”
She cuddled into her father. “Good thanks.”
Patting Tegan on the head, he switched his attention to Kendal. “What’s been happening here?”
“We were interviewing Dr. Clarke when Claire witnessed Mason running from the hospital. We cornered him in the tram. Before we could arrest him, he used a knife to slash Claire’s ankle.”
“Kendal, after Claire’s ankle has been attended to at the hospital take Tegan up to Aura Lake for safety. This time, stay there.”
“What about catching Patrick?”
“Forget the bum. You need a rest. I’ll hand the case over to Philips.”
“Cap, I have to protest over the idea.”
Hughes looked him square in the eyes. “Take a few days off. Go fishing. You look like shit. I’m certain Patrick’s not going anywhere.”
“Sir, I must protest.”
“Kendal, I’m surprised, that’s the first time you’ve called me Sir.” Hughes flashed a cursory grin. “I don’t want to hear or see you for seven days.”
“I’m close to finding Patrick.”
“In one word, go and have a rest.”
“You just spoke five words.”
“You’re a wise arse.”
Hughes flashed Tegan another look. He turned on his toes and walked off in the direction of his car.
After Tegan and her father had watched him drive away, they slid into the taxi and closed the doors.
“Leonard, take us to the hospital,” ordered Kendal.
He eased the car into the traffic flow. In eleven minutes, Leonard parked outside the hospital’s front entrance. The party of three disembarked. Kendal looked through the driver’s open window. He slipped Leonard two fifty-dollar notes.
“Thank you, Mr. Kendal. Take care; Tegan, you too. Detective Ambroso, I hope your ankle heals fast. If you ever need a friendly taxi driver give me a call. Here’s my card.”
Kendal nodded. He waited to see the tail lights vanish before carrying Claire into the hospital. He settled her in the wheelchair he found in a corner.
“Don’t go away,” he warned. “Tegan, make sure she doesn’t do a runner.”
“I won’t go far. Bruised ribs will slow me down.”
Kendal approached the reception window. The young female nurse he stared at looked un-interested as she talked on the phone.
“I need a doctor to examine the woman in the wheelchair.”
A middle-aged woman seated behind the computer screen to his right looked up. “We’re busy tonight; there’s an hour wait.”
Kendal’s police badge quickly changed her mind.
A male nurse walking up the corridor beckoned Kendal to bring Claire.
“Detective, please follow me, the doctor will meet with you in examination room seven.”
“Thank you.”
“Tegan, tell us how you escaped,” said Claire the moment the male walked out of the examination room.
She relayed the facts in a watered-down summary. She just finished when Dr. Clarke walked in, followed by the head of the emergency department.
“Detective Kendal, I happened to be talking to Dr. Carmichael when a nurse interrupted. He asked could I examine a police officer. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. A knife has slashed Detective Ambroso’s ankle. She’s also complaining of sore ribs.”
Focusing on Tegan, Dr. Clarke nodded.
“Hello there. I’m surprised you are here and not at home watching a movie.”
Instead of replying Tegan flashed a sm
ile and scrutinized Dr. Carmichael in his examination of Claire’s ankle.
“Dr. Clarke, why didn’t you say earlier my daughter was at your house?” probed Kendal.
“Patrick and I had an argument. He promised me to set Tegan free. I thought the whole scene was inconsequential.”
“Where does Patrick live? And I don’t want to hear about the doctor to patient privacy act. I need to know, and I need to know now.”
“He does not have a fixed address. He rings my doorbell, maybe once a month for a place to sleep.”
“Where can I find him, right now?”
“I have no idea. No idea at all. Did you find Phil Mason?”
“Yes. He’s the one who attacked my partner.”
“Good heavens. Are you positive?”
“Yes,” growled Kendal. “Do you know why he came to see you?”
“Of course,” replied Ashlee Clarke. “He gave me the music CD his group has recently finished recording. He wanted my opinion on its quality.”
“You don’t strike me as a music lover.”
“I used to listen to music all the time. I must confess I used to be a real party animal in my teens. When I began my medical studies, I sacrificed music so I could put all my energy into being a surgeon.”
“Head of the burns department is a big change,” stated Kendal.
“I eventually found out I did not have the stomach to be a surgeon.”
“The discovery would’ve been very disappointing.”
“Extremely,” she sighed. “One has to move forward and not dwell on the things one cannot change.”
Dr. Carmichael stepped back from his examination, walked over to a wall, peeled his latex gloves from his hands and dropped them into the bin. He walked back to the bed to begin examining Tegan.
After the examination, he dropped the second pair of gloves in the bin and smiled at Claire.
“Your ribs feel intact. A couple of stitches in your ankle will see you right.”
A female nurse stepped into the room. Focusing on Carmichael, she quickly explained he was needed in Emergency.
“Dr. Clarke, please be a gem and stitch Detective Ambroso’s ankle, I have to go. Detective Kendal, your daughter’s fine. We won’t need to admit her. She’s fit, healthy and ready to go home.” He smiled and marched out of the room.
“There’s an urgent matter I was in the middle of; I won’t be a moment,” advised Dr. Clarke, walking towards the door. In a heartbeat, she vanished.
Kendal stepped up to his daughter. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted his mobile phone.
“Here, call grandma’s house and talk to your mum to let her know you’re safe.”
“Slap another bandage over the cut and let’s get out of here,” growled Claire.
“You’re not going anywhere,” replied Kendal. “We have to stick to the plan. Besides, you’re bleeding everywhere.” He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not afraid of needles?”
“I am not afraid of anything.”
Kendal chuckled at her six-word statement. Shifting his attention back on Tegan he patted her shoulder as she began to cry to her mother through the mobile phone.
“It’s okay little Tacca; you’re safe.”
Tegan whispered goodbye, snapped the phone closed and threw his hand off her shoulder.
“Dad quit calling me that childish name.” She stood and marched over to Claire.
“Partner, help me out here.”
“No way, I’m on Tegan’s side. In case you haven’t noticed Tegan’s not a little kid anymore. I’m amazed she came through her kidnapping ordeal unscathed.”
“I jam just a concerned father.”
Watching Tegan folding her arms, made Kendal concede defeat. He pushed his hand into his pocket for his handkerchief.
“Here, wipe the tears from your face. From now on I’ll never call you little Tacca again.”
Tegan brightened, unwrapped the cloth and stared wide-eyed at the small silver disc in the palm of her hand. She held it up for her father to see. Claire leaned forward to take a closer look. Hearing footsteps approaching, Kendal raised a finger to his lips, grabbed the cloth, re-wrapped the disc and quickly slipped it back inside his coat pocket.
A smiling Dr. Clarke pushed through the thick plastic emergency room doors and walked towards to cubicle seven.
“I apologize for taking so long; a burns victim was brought in. A surgeon wanted my immediate opinion.” She flashed a cursory grin. “How is my patient feeling?”
“I’m fine, really,” stated Claire, sitting up. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about? Slap a small bandage over the cut, and I’ll be right.”
“Certainly not, Detective Ambroso. Your ankle requires four stitches.”
“Claire’s scared,” advised Tegan.
“Detective Ambroso is a police officer she catches criminals for a living. I’m certain she won’t be scared of a small needle?”
“It’s true. Years ago, when I fell off my bike, and I needed stitches in my knee. Claire told me she was scared of needles.”
“Detective, you need to be brave for Tegan’s sake. Detective Kendal, if you feel like a cup of coffee, the canteen is down the corridor on your left. Tegan might like a drink too. Your partner will be in here for about an hour. If she is good, she can go home soon after.”
“Thanks, Doc. I think I’ll take you up on your offer, Tegan does look slightly thirsty.”
“I’d rather stay here to keep a close watch on Claire.”
“You might be dehydrated after your incarceration and not know it,” argued Kendal, glaring at his daughter.
“Now you mention it; a cold drink does sound nice.”
“Partner, we’ll see you in an hour,” instructed Kendal, starting to herd his daughter out of the room.
“I’ll be here,” yelled Claire. She sat on the bed watching Kendal marching Tegan down the corridor.
Claire winced when she felt Dr. Clarke inserting the needle into her ankle.
“The injection will take a few minutes to take effect. I’ll be back soon.”
Claire lay prone on the bed, watching the wall clock. Five minutes had ticked off before Clarke returned. Claire sat up to watch.
“Your foot should feel numb by now.”
“It certainly does.”
“Good, four stitches coming right up. This will not take long. Why don’t you lie down on the bed?”
“I do feel tired.” Claire conceded and fell back against the pillow staring at the ceiling.
“All done,” announced Dr. Clarke. “You rest; I’ll locate Detective Kendal; when I return, you can go.”
“Thanks,” Claire whispered, closing her eyes.
“Hey Doc, how’s your patient?”
Claire opened her eyes. Looking for the voice, she struggled to focus on the person.
“She’s done,” announced Dr. Clarke.
“No, she’s not, the cop is still awake.”
“I have finished.”
“I’ll take over from here.”
“What are you doing?” mumbled Claire, struggling to prop herself up on one elbow. “Why do I feel so weak? Why can’t I move?” She clamped a black gaze on the person beside her. He reached out and pushed her back down on the bed.
“Doc, I don’t want the cop to fall out of bed. She might arouse suspicion. Why are you so incompetent? Next time I tell you something, listen. Now give her another injection.” Patrick stared at Claire. “Hey Coppa, guess what happens to the people who see my face?”
“They die.”
“Please, I beg you, let the woman be.”
Patrick slapped the doctor across the face, subduing her.
“Don’t ever tell me what to do. Don’t forget; you owe me.”
“I believe I have repaid my debt.” Dr. Clarke rubbed her red cheek.
“You’ll never be able to repay me. Now, see if you can get something right and push this lousy excuse for a cop to the morgue.”
&nbs
p; Patrick lowered his head close to Claire’s face. “You’ve heard correct, Coppa. You’re on the way to the morgue. Your eyes are revealing you’re petrified. Don’t worry I’ll give you some Ether. In seconds, you’ll lose consciousness. I promise you won’t feel a thing.”
“If you want the detective at the morgue, I suggest you do it yourself. I have had enough of helping you.”
“Doc. you’re not pulling rank on me, are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why do you always think you’re smarter than me? Why?” Patrick growled and started pacing back and forth across the room.
“I am smarter than you.”
Patrick stopped his pacing when he was next to Claire.
“Do you believe such crap? Just because she’s a doctor doesn’t mean she’s smarter than me. Do you agree, Coppa?” He turned his head to focus on Dr. Clarke. “You’ll do what I say.”
Claire’s eyes started to close. Patrick marched towards the thick plastic door. He paused before stepping into the corridor. Several seconds ticked off before he came back.
“Doc, the coast is clear, you go first. I’ll push the cop along the corridor. If you refuse to leave this room, I’ll shoot you. ” Patrick started to laugh. Pulling Kendal’s gun out from a back pocket he waved the weapon under her nose.
“As usual, you win,” mumbled Doctor Clarke.
“Good to hear.”
Patrick moved a narrow trolley next to the bed and rolled Claire onto it. Positioning himself at one end he stared at Clarke, waiting for her to help.
“Come on, we have to hurry,” whispered Dr. Clarke.
“You, stupid woman, this cop is still moving. Go get a white sheet, so nobody will suspect anything.”
Dr. Clarke bowed her head, walked to a side cupboard and snatched a white sheet from the top shelf. She returned and partly covered Ambroso.
“Here, breathe, this pink handkerchief. We don’t want you to alert anyone of your plight.”
Satisfied Claire was unconscious Patrick checked the corridor. Seeing no one, he beckoned Clarke to follow.
“Doc. start pushing, the coast is clear.”
The trolley was half in the corridor when Patrick signaled a halt.
“You must be stupid. My gut instinct is telling me you want me caught.” He raised his hand to slap the doctor’s face.
Dr. Clarke cringed. “No,” she whispered.
“Then do the right thing.”
She marched to the cupboard and snatched up another sheet to cover Claire’s face.
Patrick wheeled the long trolley into the corridor. In a few moments, he pushed it into the lift.
“Hey Doc, so far so good, I think after I’ve bumped off Kendal and his family, I’ll lay low. What you reckon?”
Staring at Patrick, she slowly nodded.
“Kendal’s kid, she turned up?”
“Yes.”
“You reckon she told anyone who I am?”
“Probably,” whispered Clarke.
The lift doors opened at the basement to voices talking and laughing.
“Doc, you look stressed. Tomorrow, wanna come for a holiday? I’ve been thinking about Hawaii, of late.”
“No, I have work.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. He spoke in low whispers.
“Take over. If someone sees me pushing the trolley, they’ll DOB me in.”
“You hide. When the coast is clear, join me at the morgue,” instructed Clarke.
Halfway down the corridor, two female cleaners came walking around the corner carrying long-handled mops. Both were pushing cleaning buckets on tiny wheels.
“Good evening, Dr. Clarke,” said one.
“Another stiff for the morgue Eh!” the other tittered.
Dr. Clarke nodded her reply. Remaining silent, she pushed the trolley onwards. Watching the cleaners chatting in a large round mirror mounted on the wall she saw them start to climb the stairs. Dr. Clarke counted to seven, to see if they returned. When they didn’t, she whispered a beckoning call.
Patrick crept up the hall. “Forget the morgue. I said it for a cover story. Hand over your car keys. I’ll meet you at the service entrance.”
Inside three minutes he had reversed the car to the door and pushed the button to open the trunk.
“Hold it Doc; I’ll get the cop, she looks too heavy for you.”
Patrick picked Claire up and dropped her into the trunk.
“Did you have to be so rough?” jeered Dr. Clarke.
“Hey, if you don’t like it, next time, you do it. Now let’s go.” He slammed the trunk shut and marched to the driver’s door. He looked over his shoulder. “Coming?”
Ashlee Clarke folded her arms. She stood defiantly.
“What now?”
“The car door, aren’t you going to open it?”
“No, do it yourself.”
Ashlee folded her arms tighter. She pushed her chest out.
“If you don’t get in the bloody car, I’ll leave you behind.”
Glaring at Patrick, she rolled her eyes, sliding onto the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Your place, I’ve a surprise waiting for you,” announced Patrick.
