Second Sight

by Aoife Clifford

  He was one of those tall men who adopt a wide-legged stance when talking to a short person. It always made Janey feel like directing a good kick to the balls.

  ‘Is that right?’ She made a mental note to give Mick Carmody a piece of her mind next time she saw him. ‘Why don’t you pop inside? Have a beer on the house. New Year’s Eve and all.’

  She didn’t expect him to agree. It was just a little test to see how he would react.

  ‘Thank you but no,’ he said. Even the pompous way he spoke annoyed her. ‘I’m fine out here. Keeping busy.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to let Mick know your commitment to the job.’ She walked around the car and unlocked the driver’s door.

  ‘Are you going somewhere?’ asked Gavin. ‘Wouldn’t want anyone driving who might have had a bit to drink.’

  This was going too far. Janey smiled her most dangerous smile.

  ‘Lemonade all night, Constable.’ She crossed her heart and moved forward so there was only a breath between the two of them. ‘I never drink when I’m working, just like you. Promise. You can smell me if you like.’

  It was the little schoolgirl voice that always wrong-footed them, the sweet sound of it coming from a body that looked far more experienced. Men were predictable and sure enough, Gavin looked uncomfortable and straightened up, backing off a little.

  ‘That’s all right,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we can trust you to be sensible.’

  If only I could say the same, thought Janey, as she adjusted the rear-view mirror so she could see Gavin in it.

  Two worried faces were outside in the dark waiting for her as she pulled up in front of The Castle. Just kids, thought Janey. This was going to be easily sorted.

  ‘You poor things,’ she said, getting out of the car. ‘You’ve had a bit of an adventure.’ It both acknowledged and reduced what they had found at the same time.

  She reached up and hugged her son and then turned to the girl.

  ‘Grace, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I took your picture earlier.’

  The girl nodded, her arms tightly folded. Janey decided against hugging her. Grace didn’t look the type.

  ‘Where are your friends?’ Janey asked.

  ‘We left them hours ago,’ said Tony. ‘Back at the beach.’

  Still the girl said nothing.

  ‘Well, you’d better show me what you’ve found then,’ said Janey. ‘Lead the way, Tony.’

  He swung a flashlight up and clicked it on.

  ‘It’s in the furthest outbuilding. Right around the back. We thought we saw lights near it earlier when we were driving to the party.’

  What’s this ‘we’? thought Janey, and gave Grace another look.

  They walked in single file, Tony at the front, Janey at the rear, Grace safely sandwiched between them. The breeze carried the faint but unmistakable sounds of the paddock party. Wes hadn’t told her about it but she should have guessed he’d been busy playing the big man again.

  ‘So, Anthony Wesley Bayless,’ she said, her voice laced with regret, ‘you went to the paddock party.’

  There was instant contrition. ‘Sorry Mum,’ he said. ‘I know . . .’ but she interrupted him. ‘How about you, Grace? Your mum know that you were going to that party?’

  A hesitation before a reluctant, ‘No.’

  ‘Well, I guess we can talk about that later.’

  It was a threat, lightly issued.

  Tony stopped once they got to the low-slung building. Janey tried to remember what it had been built for originally – a small stable, perhaps? Tony handed the torch over to his mother, who shone it at the door.

  ‘And it was unlocked?’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Grace. ‘We were walking back from the party. I saw a fox crawling under the door. It was attacking something inside.’

  ‘It was still around when we went in,’ Tony said. ‘I had to get the shotgun from the house to scare it off.’

  ‘Where’s the gun now?’ asked Janey.

  ‘Back at the house,’ Tony answered.

  ‘Good boy,’ said Janey. ‘We don’t want any stupid accidents. Now, you two stay here,’ and she pushed open the door.

  Tony did what he was told. He wasn’t in any hurry to go back inside but Grace darted straight past her and began pulling covers off the cages. Instantly the noise began, a godawful shrieking as birds beat their wings against the metal, feathers and shit gathering in the bottom of mesh wire boxes barely bigger than the birds. The stink of ammonia filled the air.

  ‘It’s just a bunch of galahs,’ said Janey.

  Grace pointed at a cage. ‘That’s a glossy black cockatoo. They’re rare.’ She moved towards the back of the shed. ‘Here’s a Major Mitchell.’

  ‘Stay next to me,’ ordered Janey. ‘Wouldn’t do to touch anything.’

  She shone the torch around the room. In the glare of the light, the bird tried to hide its face under its wing. It almost looked like it was ashamed of itself, Janey thought. Not your fault, she felt like saying, you poor little bugger.

  It was clear Grace had taken a thorough look around. Janey doubted that Tony had set foot in here once he had seen what was inside. He’d never liked birds and had been a bit scared of them as a kid. Janey shone the torchlight here and there, trying to work out if anything had been disturbed, but it didn’t seem to have been.

  ‘Well, I’ve seen enough,’ she said to Grace.

  ‘Wait,’ said Grace. ‘There’s something more.’ She tried to grab the torch but Janey held hard and wouldn’t give it up, so Grace pushed it onto the floor next to one of the cages. Janey crouched down to look at it more closely. It was an old hanky. She was certain she recognised it.

  ‘There’s blood on it,’ said Grace. ‘Lots of it. We need to call the police.’

  Tony was waiting for them outside, his bleached, anxious face caught in the light. ‘What do you reckon, Mum? Those lights earlier, someone must have been dumping the birds.’

  Janey said nothing but watched Grace out of the corner of her eye, waiting to see which way she would jump.

  ‘It’s wildlife smuggling,’ Grace said, her voice emphatic. ‘It’s got to be.’

  ‘I’m sure Jim could help us,’ said Janey. ‘I can try him in the morning. See what we should do about it.’

  ‘No-one who loved birds could leave them like that,’ said Grace. ‘There’s no room. We should open the cages and let them free.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Janey. ‘Some might be injured. We don’t want to make that fox’s job any easier.’

  ‘We need to ring the police,’ said Grace again.

  ‘You two would have to be prepared for some questions, including what you’ve been up to tonight. Underage drinking and the rest of it.’

  The petrified look on Tony’s face almost made her laugh.

  ‘The police won’t be worried about us, not when they see what’s inside there,’ said Grace. ‘There’s blood. Someone could be really hurt.’

  ‘It’s the middle of the night,’ said Janey.

  Grace bit her bottom lip. She’s little more than a child, thought Janey. Still, there was plenty of pluck in her, not like poor Tony.

  ‘Eliza’s dad is a policeman,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll ring their house. He won’t mind.’

  ‘We don’t need to get Mick out of bed,’ Janey said. ‘Not when he’s already put in a full shift. Tell you what, I’ll drive you home and then go by his house when it gets light. No sense in you two getting involved. I’ll say I was out here, saw the fox, did some investigating and found the birds.’

  Tony’s head nodded so emphatically he looked like a wind-up toy, but Grace didn’t budge.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We’re all involved. It’s the right thing to do.’

  Janey took a deep breath. Her feet hurt and she’d been banking on seeing her bed before sunrise. This was getting ridiculous.

  ‘Very well,’ she said, trying to control her crossness. ‘Let’s go back to the house and I’ll ring the
station.’

  She waited until Grace had gone ahead with the torch and then grabbed Tony’s arm. He had been keeping his head down, reluctant to get involved.

  ‘Talk some sense into your friend,’ she whispered to him. ‘We don’t want the police out here. What if those developers heard? It could jeopardise their offer.’

  Obligingly, he jogged ahead and caught up to Grace. She listened to their conversation. Tony tried but Grace wasn’t budging. Janey wondered if this was what having a daughter would be like, a defiant mix of friend and foe. She thought she would enjoy the challenge but not at 3 am. If this ended up in a police investigation it would be a disaster.

  They were walking in the shadows of The Castle now. It was just a great mausoleum, thought Janey, a place where you sent good money to die. If Wes hadn’t bought it, she’d have never had to worry about their finances and taken risks, but someone had to keep them afloat.

  ‘You two head into the kitchen and put on the kettle, Tony,’ said Janey. ‘Make us a nice cup of tea while I phone.’

  It was an old rotary dial phone that they kept at The Castle, not like the push-button one they had at the pub. When they were doing the renovations, Wes wanted the best of everything, but Janey had put her foot down. Until the place started making some money, it would make do with whatever bits and pieces she could find.

  She didn’t call triple zero because that would give her an operator who would redirect her to the twenty-four-hour station further up the coast, full of people she didn’t know. Instead, she dialled local, putting her finger in each circle, pulling it up and then letting it click back down, audible enough for those in the kitchen to hear.

  It was answered on the third ring.

  ‘Good,’ she said when she heard the voice. ‘I need you to come out to The Castle. It’s a police matter.’

  When she came back into the kitchen, Tony had his arms on the table, his head resting on them, half-asleep. Grace was sitting across from him, her face unreadable. She would have got Tony to drive home but he was too drunk to do that safely, so she shook him instead.

  ‘Not asleep,’ he said, eyes still closed. ‘Just resting.’

  ‘Go upstairs,’ she told him. ‘The camping beds are still up in the front bedrooms. Sleep it off and we’ll talk about it in the morning.’

  ‘What about the police?’ Grace asked. ‘We heard you talking to them.’

  ‘They’re coming out for a look. Told me you didn’t have to wait around. They’ll get in contact if they need more information. Said I could take you home.’

  ‘But if you’re not here and Tony’s asleep, how will they know which shed?’ argued Grace. ‘No, I’m heading back down to the birds and waiting for them there.’

  Janey had just about had enough. She glared at the girl. ‘Well, you go do that then,’ and she didn’t say another word until Grace had left the room. Tony stood there helplessly and Janey felt tempted to box his ears in frustration.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ he said. ‘But maybe it was lucky I went to the party, otherwise we wouldn’t know about those birds.’

  Janey’s blood ran hot but outwardly she stayed calm. ‘This is a serious business best left to the police,’ she said. ‘You’re not to talk about it to anyone. If those buyers get wind of it, we are sunk. The pub, everything. Do you understand?’

  There were more big nods of his man-child head.

  ‘Mum, you’ll make sure Grace gets home?’

  ‘Of course I will, love.’

  ‘Just she got mad with Eliza Carmody over a boy and I think she’s still upset. Talked about catching a train to the city.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said Janey. ‘Sounds like it has been quite a night.’

  She found Grace on her hands and knees searching around the grass in front of the shed.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Janey asked.

  ‘My necklace,’ Grace said. ‘I’ve lost my necklace.’ She looked at the shotgun in Janey’s hands. ‘Why have you got that?’

  ‘In case that pesky fox comes back,’ said Janey, sitting next to her and placing the gun down carefully.

  She tried to talk to the girl, but all she got was one-word answers. It was clear that Grace was hostile, but of what it was hard to tell. Maybe this was standard teenage girl behaviour. All Janey knew was that if she’d acted like that, she’d have been given a good clattering smack from her father. So instead, she stared up at The Castle. Tony would be asleep now, she was sure of that. One thing the pub had taught him was to sleep no matter if there was a hurricane outside.

  This whole place gave her the creeps. Wes loved all that history but it left her cold. Only the living mattered. I’d pay them to knock it down, she thought, but instead they can pay me, build a golf course and bring rich tourists to the town and to the pub.

  It was over half an hour before the ute came slowly up the track towards them. Janey waved the torch in his direction.

  ‘That’s not a police car,’ said Grace.

  ‘About time,’ Janey answered, ignoring her. ‘You wait here and I’ll have a quick word.’

  A dark outline got out of the cab. A shadow in the headlights. She hadn’t expected the girl to obey, but Grace stayed sitting on the ground.

  ‘You didn’t rush,’ Janey said, steering him towards the back of the vehicle. There was alcohol on his breath, which wasn’t encouraging.

  ‘Who’s the girl?’ he asked.

  ‘A law-abiding citizen, waiting for the police to take her statement, to tell them what she’s found.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  Janey shrugged. ‘You ask her.’

  He grunted, taking a baton-like torch from the tray. Switching it on, the spotlight caught the outline of something lying in the ute, half covered by a tarp. It had the curve of a hip, a long line of leg.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Janey, stepping backwards. ‘What have you got there?’

  ‘Came out the Ophir Road way and found this,’ he said. ‘Must have been hit by a car. A big roo, too. Taking it home for my dogs.’

  ‘Made quite a mess,’ said Janey.

  ‘Hose it out and it will be just like new.’

  Janey thought for a bit and decided that could be quite useful.

  Grace scrambled to her feet as they walked towards her. Janey could see her face visibly relax as she took in the police uniform.

  ‘Grace, love,’ Janey said, walking around her until she was standing behind the girl, ‘you know Constable Alan Sharp. Tell him what you saw.’ She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  The words tumbled out in a rush. ‘It wasn’t just birds,’ Grace said. ‘They’re sitting on boxes. I moved a cage and looked inside one. It was full of guns and bags of tablets.’

  ‘Sounds serious,’ said Sharpy. ‘Who else knows about it?’ He turned and caught Janey’s eye.

  Janey shook her head.

  ‘I didn’t tell anyone,’ Grace explained, ‘not even Tony. I wanted the police to know first.’

  Janey sighed and, as the girl kept talking and Sharpy nodded his head, she knelt down and picked up the shotgun.

  32

  Before I see anything, before I hear anything, I feel the painful bite of tight twists of metal against my skin and throbbing in my head. When I open my eyes, everything is sideways, but it turns out only I am.

  I’m lying on the floor, chicken wire under me, and my head feels like pulp. I lift a hand to it and feel the hot stickiness of blood. It’s still wet, which means I haven’t been unconscious long.

  There’s a figure standing there, a little blurry, but I recognise her. Janey Bayless is watching me.

  Pushing myself to sitting, I realise I’m in a cage. It is one of the large aviaries, but the truth is cages only look big when you are on the outside. Hooking my fingers through the mesh, I pull myself up in increments, legs shaking.

  ‘Alan Sharp,’ I tell her urgently. ‘Where is he?’

  The lights flicker and then everything goes dark and fo
r a moment I think I’ve passed out again.

  Janey’s voice cuts through the night. ‘That generator’s buggered.’

  Around me there is the sound of scuffling and swearing. A torch switches on and then another.

  ‘I’ll get it working,’ says a male voice. It’s Alan’s.

  A circle of light comes towards me, shining directly into my eyes. I let go of the wire to cover my face and lose my balance, falling again to cower on the floor.

  Janey lowers the torch, her features made blunt by the darkness, her nose a strong curved beak, her fingers talons. She is a bird of prey, ready to attack. ‘You always were a bit different, Eliza, with your funny eyes and big mouth. You stood out. I liked you. I still do but now you’re in my way. You should have gone back to the city when I told you. In a funny way you remind me of Grace Hedland. Smart but not quite smart enough.’

  The generator starts and the lights come back on. Alan returns and stands beside Janey.

  I stare at them, horrified. Alan refuses to look at me.

  ‘Not much petrol left,’ he grunts. ‘It won’t last long.’

  ‘There’s a full jerry can over here,’ she says, walking towards the wall. She picks it up and I can hear the glug of sloshing petrol. ‘Jim, so practical in many respects and then useless in others.’ When she turns around there is a pistol in her hand. ‘It’s your fault he’s dead, you know, Eliza. Asking questions, getting him panicked that you knew something. Luke as well, now that I think of it. Tried to blackmail me once he put your information together with old stories he’d heard from Jim.’

  ‘Why did Jim say Grace caught a train?’

  Janey shook her head. ‘That was a mistake. He was supposed to throw your father off the scent. Tell him the girl had run away. Mick never bought the train story and for a while there I thought it was all going to fall apart. But here we are, still surviving.’

  She nods to Alan, who pulls open the cage door.

  ‘Come out slowly,’ says Janey. ‘No heroics.’

  I crawl on my hands and knees, numb with fear.

  ‘Deal with her, Alan,’ says Janey. ‘Make her dreams come true. Chuck her down the same mine shaft you put her friend in.’