by Peter Corris
She crossed the street slowly and her leather shoulder bag swung slightly as she moved. Im sorry, she said, pointing at my shabby terrace. Is that your house?
Yes, it is.
I dont suppose youd be interested in selling it?
Every week I get circulars from real estate agents telling me how many buyers theyve got for properties just like mine in the area, what prices theyve fetched at auction for just such places, and how theyd be happy to help me sell. Some are cheap productions with blurred print, others have nice borders and clear, artistic photographs. Whatever, I put them all in the recycling bin. This was the first direct, human approach in that vein and it made a difference. The house looked bleak and neglected, the way I felt, but something about this womanthe animation in her face, the big, dark eyes and sculptured featureslightened my mood.
I dont know, I said. Could be. What agency are you from?
She smiled. Great teeth. Oh, Im not a real estate agent. Its just that Im looking for a house in this part of Glebe. Theres one on the other side a bit further down but I dont like it much, so I came up here just to scout about.
We were standing quite close together now and I liked the sensation. Her perfume was pleasant and she had an easy grace that made me feel relaxed. I see, I said. Well, houses come up from time to time. My names Hardy, by the way, Cliff Hardy.
Her hand came up naturally and we shook. Hi, Im Claudia Vardon.
Her accent was something like Greg Normans Australian overlaid with American. Her hand was very dry, strong grip. No wedding ring. Her eyebrows were dark and her complexion was olive, making a startling contrast with the almost white hair. I guessed her age at about forty, but Im a rotten judge of womens ages. I let go of her hand reluctantly.
You say you just might be interested in selling, Mr Hardy?
I shrugged. I think about it from time to time… A car turned into the street and came around the bend too fast. We had to jump out of the way and we collided, hip to hip. I reached out to steady her and felt the firmness of her body.
We dont get many hoons like that, I said.
She wasnt rattled by the speedster, nor embarrassed by my touching her. Pleased, if anything. I was glad I was wearing my suit and had shaved carefully. How about the flight path?
Not too bad here. But well be getting a few planes soon. Would you like to have a look at the house? Chances are a planell go over and you can get the idea. Where do you live now, by the way?
In the city. Used to be Hunters Hill. The planes were terrible. Yes, all right, if it wont put you out.
We went between my car and the Laser which she nodded at. I cramped your parking space. Sorry.
Thats OK. I opened the gate and went ahead of her, pushing back some of the banksia that overhangs the path. The porch tiles have lifted where roots have got to them and there is a slight crack in the masonry from an old subsidence. If she noticed, she didnt comment. The house is cleaned twice a month by George and Shirley, a pair of local characters who do a good job, so that it smells OK but a bit musty from under-use. Claudia Vardon walked in confidently, peeked into the room off the hallway and gazed up the stairs. As luck would have it, sunlight streamed in through the skylight I put in a few years back and gave the upstairs a promising glow.
Very nice, she said. You havent mucked it all up.
Far from it. Its pretty original. Two out of three fireplaces intact. No aluminium windows.
She laughed. I hate those things.
Me, too. Look, put your bag down and have a good snoop through. Ive had a tough morning and Im going to make a sandwich and have a glass of wine. Would you like something?
She slung her bag at a chair and it landed neatly. Ive had lunch, thanks. Some wine would be great.
I took off my jacket and headed for the kitchen. I heard her going up the stairs and grinned as she hit the step that squeaks like a mouse. I made a cheese and tomato sandwich, finished off the remainder of a bottle of Long Flat White in two swigs and opened another. I had a glass poured for her when she came through to the kitchen.
Its a good house, she said. Youve been here a while?
Mm. Have a drink.
She took a solid sip. I dont think you want to sell this place. You and it seem to go together. I think youd be lost anyplace else.
I heard the low rumbling from above. I pointed at the ceiling. Hang on. Listen.
We stood close together, almost touching, listening to the plane overhead. When it passed she touched me on the shoulder. Not bad at all.
No, thats about it. Come and have a look at the back.
We carried our glasses out into the courtyard that I bricked in a rough fashion when Cyn and I first moved in here a hundred years ago. Grass grows through the cracks and some of the bricks have broken but it doesnt look too bad. Shirley waters the plants and pulls up some of the weeds. A biggish mulberry tree gives some shade and stains a section of the bricks. The plastic outdoor furniture is white-spotted with bird shit.
If you stand on the fence you can see Blackwattle Bay, I said.
She lifted one elegant black shoe. Not in these heels. Its a great place for you. Very spare, very masculine. Dyou mind if I ask what you do for a living?
Im a private detective. You?
I was a solicitor and shouldve stayed with it. Im recently divorced, hence the great house search. The Hunters Hill place is sold and Ill get halfshould be enough to buy something around here. I love Glebe even though its changed. I lived here when I was a student at Sydney.
We both drank wine. We both smiled. Will you go back into practice? I said.
Hell, I dont know. Why?
I need a lawyer.
Her head went back and she laughed. I wanted to kiss her smooth brown throat. Does that mean youve got lots of money or lots of problems?
Prospects of both.
Thats interesting. Im not sure what Im doing. Im very rusty on everything, but we could talk about it.
Good. Whatre you doing tonight?
She finished her wine and looked down at the glass. Nothing. Waiting.
Have dinner with me in Glebe. Indian, Lebanese, Spanish, French, Italian, you name it.
Why not? she said. Indian sounds good. Dyou think I should wear a sari?
You could, I said. You could.
9
I was as excited as a kid. Amazing how quickly and thoroughly that feeling of attraction to a new person of the opposite sex, when its possibly reciprocated, can change your perspective and priorities. Claudia Vardon would be back at my house at 7 p.m. and Id be ready. Barry White, Peggy Hawkins and the others in the cast of characters associated with the Beckett case all took two places to the rear. I was about to launch into a house-tidying, a bed-changing and buying some supplies when I remembered the appointment at Redfern station. The last thing I needed was a copper arriving on the doorstep that evening to conduct me to the lockup. I carefully hung the suit on a hanger, smoothed out the tie, checked that I had a clean shirt and socks and went off to Redfern in my more usual uniform of drill trousers, open-neck shirt and battered linen jacket.
Detective Sergeant Jack Fowler had evidently done a bit of checking up on me and was puzzled by the results. I was a long-term PEA and a mate of a well-placed senior cop and yet had recently served a prison sentence and been de-licensed for a period. Will the real Cliff Hardy please stand up? He conducted me to a room which wasnt as rough as the ones where they put the frighteners on the junkies nor as pleasant as where they interview child-molesting clergymen.
Wed like to know more about your association with White, he said.
Sorry. Professional matter. Confidential.
You cant run that line.
Im doing it. Look, all I can say is that the matter relates to events a good many years ago. Before you left school, Detective Sergeant. I have no reason to think Whites death is connected to what we were discussing.
Discussing?
Thats as far as it got.
You
say youd arranged to meet him at the house.
Thats right.
Some of the blokes there say you seemed agitated.
I knew that was a lie. The men who saw me arrive didnt register anything. Im a busy man.
There was hardly a scrap of paper in the joint. No wallet, no TAB tickets, fuck-all
I shrugged. Your blokes patted me down. I didnt take a thing. Id say that points to Barrys past history catching up with him. Someone cleaned up everything. What kind of gun was used?
He looked at me, trying to gauge my honesty, sincerity, duplicity, but Id been at this game longer than him and he gave it up. He took five sheets of printout from a folder and pushed them across the table. Sign it and you can go. You dont seem too cut up about losing your client.
I hadnt brought a pen. I borrowed his blue ballpoint with a chewed end, read through the statement and signed at the foot of each page near the crosses. In the private sector, you learn to live with these disappointments. I hope you find out who did it. Any leads?
He took back the sheets. Piss off, he said.
Back home the red light on the answering machine was blinking reproachfully. I ignored it and set about putting the house in better order. I ran the gutless vacuum cleaner over the carpets, cleaned the bathroom and toilet and put out some fresh towels. I changed the sheets on the bed and three of the four pillow slips. I emptied the waste-paper baskets and the kitchen tidy and sprayed air freshener around where the air didnt smell fresh.
I wiped down the sink and bench tops, thought about pinching some flowers from other peoples front gardens and decided against it. I ran a squeegee over the kitchen lino and took a few swipes at the coffee pot with steel wool. Id bought wine and Scotch, biscuits and cheese, coffee and milk on the way home. Also mineral water, soap and shampoo and a packet of Trojan lubricated condoms. Be prepared.
I showered, shampooed and shaved as closely as my old electric Philishave would let me. I looked at myself in the mirrorthe lines around the eyes are there for all time and getting deeper; the cheeks have long, parallel grooves in them where the dimples used to be. The only thing you could call an improvement is in the teeth which have brightened up since I stopped smoking and look better since I had the old decayed fillings replaced by ceramic stuff. Expensive but necessary. You fool, I thought. Shell probably make a rock-bottom offer on the house and head for home when you turn it down.
At seven-fifteen Claudia Vardon, wearing a blue silk dress and a white jacket, arrived at my door. An hour later the jacket was on the back of a chair at the Flavour of India restaurant in Glebe Point Road and we were looking at the menu and drinking Wolf Blass chablis. Two hours after that she took off the blue dress and her black underwear and lay down on my bed. Half an hour after that, give or take a few minutes, we were lying under the covers with sweat drying on us and our bodies still locked together and our hands still wandering.
Jesus, she said. I can still feel you in there.
I pressed close to her and felt her muscles grip and hold me. Im staying, too.
Can you come again?
I think so.
Go on, then, Cliff. Please go on. Its lovely.
We did it again, less athletically but with more skill. I came in a long, almost painful shudder and didnt mind a bit when her fingernails sank into my shoulders.
You didnt, I said when Id recovered.
No. Catch you next time. Lovely, though. Lovely.
I eased myself out of her and she put her hand down as I did, controlling the withdrawal. Easy, boy, she said. Dont want any leaking. Let me do it.
She rolled the condom off, reached for a couple of tissues, wrapped it up and dropped it on the floor. She brushed her hands together.
Thats it for those little Cliffords. Are there any little Cliffords or Cliffordettes by the way?
No, I said. What about you?
Uh uh, left it till late in the piece and then I met Mr Wrong.
What would you like to drink?
She moved away and slid out of the bed. A big glass of mineral water would be good, with lots of ice and just a little bit of wine. After I have a piss.
I watched her as she headed for the bathroom. In the half-light her body looked dark and strong. Her waist was a bit thicker and her buttocks and hips fuller than current fashion dictated, but that meant nothing to me. I remembered the weight of her full breasts in my hand and the slight swell of her belly and felt myself getting hard again. I jumped up, wrapped a length of trade cloth brought back from New Guinea many years ago around me and went down to get the drinks. Her recipe sounded pretty good to me and I filled two schooners, but I had a decent swig of the wine as well, just for luck.
Dyou like being a private detective? she said when I got back into bed.
I drank deeply. Her hand moved under the covers on to my thigh. Instantly, I forgot what shed said a mere second ago. What?
She laughed and took her hand away. Cant talk and get erect at the same time.
Try it again. Her hand returned and stroked up towards my groin. Mostly I like it, I said. Not as much as that, though.
Concentrate. Compartmentalise. Do you make a lot of money?
Thats easy. In a word, no.
Thats smart. Keep your responses short and youll do fine.
I could turn the tables.
Why dont you?
Things went on from there very pleasurably. We drank our mineral water and eventually fell asleep. Normally, I sleep deeply for the first few hours, then I get restless and often wake up and read for a while, fending off worries about money or what Im working on at the time or deeper questions. The reading does the job, and I can mostly get back into a light sleep for a few hours. This night, despite its unusual features, was no different. I found myself awake at about 4 a.m., lying on my side with Claudias arm across my waist. I was cramped and uncomfortable with a slight case of what used to be called shaggers back. It had been a while since Id exercised those particular muscles, and a long time since Id exercised them so thoroughly. She muttered something that might have been gibberish or in one of the many foreign languages I dont understand as she rolled into a new position.
I didnt want to read or to get up to drink water or piss or do anything, I was happy just to lie there with the warmth of her next to me. The street light is almost immediately outside the house and it penetrated the rice-paper blinds to some extent. The room wasnt in total darkness and I was able to examine Claudias hair, spread out on the pillow beside me. It was thick and lustrous and quite white. As far as I could tell, it was the same colour from the tips to the roots. Curious.
She muttered again. The sheet fell away and I lifted it back to cover her smooth, brown shoulder. The softness of her skin was a delight and I found myself wanting to stroke her all over. I made do with kissing the shoulder. Her presence soothed and comforted me and I slid back into sleep without a thought of poor, dead Barry White or Max Savage or any of the rest of it.
You havent made me an offer on the house, I said as Claudia and I drank coffee and ate toast in the courtyard.
She shook her head and the white hair flew. She was wearing just her blue lace petticoat with the white silk jacket over it and I was having difficulty keeping my eyes away from her breasts and legs. Like I said, youll never leave unless they decide to put a freeway, or a bridge approach through it.
Ive thought about Bondi.
Youre not the Eastern Suburbs type. Too rugged.
So whatre you going to do, Claudia?
She took a good bite of toast and chewed enthusiastically. Keep looking for a house. Keep thinking about going back to work. How come you havent got a lawyer?
I told her about Cy and what had happened and she made sympathetic noises. She hadnt heard about it although it had made a big splash in the papers because shed been overseas for most of the year, recovering from the break-up with her husband.
So is Vardon the maiden or married name?
Detecting, are we?
Shit, sorry, no. I just
Its OK. Im a bit defensive, thats all. Vardons his name. Im going back to my name as soon as the settlements through.
Which was a way of saying dont ask too many questions. Glen Withers had said I exhausted her with questions and that Id found out too much about her too soon. Left nothing to be surprised about and that was part of the trouble. I didnt believe it, but here was a chance to play it another way. I got on with eating toast and drinking coffee and let the moment pass, although it was hard to do. I wanted to ask where she grew up, what her husband did, about the white hair… Maybe Glen had had a point.
She finished eating and carefully brushed the crumbs from her plate into a pile on top of where the bricks are built up around the grapefruit tree so the birds could get them. Youve gone quiet, she said.
Just keeping myself from being nosy. Ive got to work today. Is it too pushy to ask if I can see you again tonight? I really want to.
She got up from the plastic chair and squatted down in front of me. Her breasts were loose and heavy under the petticoat and I put my hands down and held them. Her face came up and we kissed hard.
I like you more than your house, she said. But Im glad I stopped to take a look at it. Of course I want to see you, but you have to understand that Im coming off a bad time, a couple of bad times. I dont trust my judgment.
Claudia, I…
Ssh. Dont come over all masterful. Men have to learn to let things happen. Now, you stay here and finish your coffee. Thank for a terrific night. Im going to have a shower and then Ill go. Ill take down your phone number and Ill ring you soon. OK.
It wasnt, but what could I do. Protest? Sulk? Reluctantly, I took my hands from her breasts. OK, I said.
10
Well, I certainly wasnt going to sit around waiting for her to call. No percentage in that. I was eager to get up and go on the Beckett case, to be doing something so that romantic involvement didnt soak up all my energy and attention. That had happened a few times in the past with disastrous resultsI either burnt the whole thing out too quickly or got let down badly. Not this time. I left the dishes in the sink, the empty bottle on the bench, the glasses where they sat and I didnt make the bed. I rang the number Max Savage had given me.
