by Morgana Best
Of course, there was always the possibility that Alum was okay and the police had already arrested his partner. I knew that as soon as Alum was well enough to speak, that he would tell them about his partner, so his partner might already be in custody, for all I knew.
Anyway, this was all useless speculation, and what’s more, it was doing my head in.
I took my coffee to my laptop and checked my email. Not a word from my agent. I emailed him to ask if there was any news, but then resigned myself to the fact that I was now out of work.
I drank two cups of coffee while I searched for jobs online. That only served to make me more depressed. There were jobs for farmhands, IT managers, payroll officers, and for one dentist and for one lecturer in French. I wasn’t able to do any of those jobs, no matter how desperate I was.
Still, my priority was to help Alum. I hadn’t heard from him, so I had to assume that he still needed help. But what could I do to help now? I took my third cup of coffee out to my garden so I could think things through.
The garden was beginning to look parched, and one of my rhododendrons was going brown on the edges. I turned on the sprinkler, and then watched as though mesmerized as the little droplets of water on the end of the leaves reflected the early morning sunlight.
I took my coffee to my seat and attempted to form a plan. What could I do? My googling when I hadn’t been able to sleep in the middle of the night had revealed that most police officers in New South Wales work shifts from eleven in the morning until three in the afternoon. I wasn’t able to turn up any information on any other shifts they worked. I supposed I could drive to Tamworth once more and sit outside the Oxley Grove Police Station, to see if Constable Summers came or went around ten or eleven in the morning. Again, it was a tenuous link, but I had to work with what I had, even if what I had wasn’t much at all.
Then another idea occurred to me. Armidale was a city, and Uralla was a fairly big town, while Kentucky, Bendemeer, and Walcha were smaller towns. Perhaps I could drive through those three smaller towns on the way to Tamworth to see if I could spot police cars anywhere parked on the street. As soon as I had the thought, I realized how foolish it was. Police were hardly likely to drive marked police cars to safe houses. I slapped myself on my head for being so silly.
I thought I had better have something else to eat, so went back into the kitchen to make some toast. Then I had another idea. If I could see the car that Constable Summers drove and get his plates, then I could drive through those towns looking for that car. After all, I had nothing better to do. It wasn’t as if I had a stack of job interviews lined up.
Really, I didn’t want to drive to Tamworth again. It was beginning to get quite wearing. I figured that sugar was the answer. Nothing seems quite so bad when one is having a sugar overload. I decided to have a shower, get dressed, and go to the local store to buy chocolate coated cookies, jellybeans, and a hot chocolate to go.
Soon I was on my way, although I was somewhat jumpy, having eaten half a bag of jellybeans and consumed one hot chocolate. I planned to drive through Walcha and Bendemeer on the way to Tamworth, and drive through Kentucky on my way back home. It most likely wouldn’t be productive, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, and the towns weren’t too far out of my way.
At the Thunderbolt statue in Uralla, I turned left, thinking with amusement that Australians always glorify bushrangers. Bushrangers are our heroes. The scenery between Uralla and Walcha was the same old type of countryside, but Walcha was a very pretty town. I bought a take-out coffee at a little Italian café, and then stopped at a public bathroom around the corner. It was the nicest public bathroom I had ever seen in my life.
I drove around and around the streets of Walcha, but I didn’t see any police cars. I had already decided that marked police cars would not be parked outside a safe house, but you never know. Besides, it was nice to drive a different way to Tamworth for a change. Also, it could throw the white Toyota off my trail.
I headed out of Walcha and on the road to Bendemeer. Once again, I didn’t see any police in Bendemeer. With that, I once again drove down the Moonbi ranges to Tamworth.
I got to Oxley Grove Police Station just before ten, and parked under a shady tree, which I was delighted to see given the rising temperature. My spot afforded me a good view both of the entrance to the police station and the police parking area.
I took out a pen and notepad, ready to write down Constable Summers’ plates, should I be so lucky as to see him appear.
By midday, I had not seen any sign of him, and to say I was bored was the understatement of the century. Plus I was aching in muscles that I’d never even known I had. They don’t warn you about that in all those movies about stake outs. For all I knew, it was Constable Summers’ day off, or perhaps he was working the night shift. I was getting tired of following up such useless leads, but they were all I had to go on. It was better than staring at job ads for which I wasn’t qualified, such as those for financial advisors and lecturers in quantum physics.
I was about to give it up as a bad loss and go home. I wanted nothing more than to lie on the couch with a glass of wine and watch a mindless movie that had a happy ending. At that point it occurred to me that this, his old police station, was a good place to try to contact Constable Decker. I tried to force myself to relax and open myself up to his energy. Immediately, I could feel him on the periphery of my mind. “Who killed you?” I asked him.
There was no response, but I was encouraged by the fact that his spirit was coming forward more clearly that it had previously. This was a good sign. Given time, I now felt confident that he would come through fully. The question was whether Alum had the time.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I asked him.
“Cyclops,” was the response.
“Cyclops?” I echoed. “What do you mean? What significance does Cyclops have? Does it have something to do with Alum?”
Brady Wayland, the victim in the murder case that Alum had been working on when Alum’s partner had shot him, had implied to me that the word ‘Cyclops’ was connected in some way with Alum. Yet I had questioned Alum about the word on more than one occasion and he had not a clue what it meant.
Likewise, Constable Decker’s spirit did not enlighten me. I asked again. “Please explain to me what ‘Cyclops’ means. I don’t know what it means, and another spirit told me the same word.”
I could feel Constable Decker trying to push the answer to me, but I wasn’t able to pick it up. My mind was at once flooded with images, and none of them made the slightest bit of sense. Still, I wasn’t discouraged, because the constable’s spirit was coming through and this was a major breakthrough.
I tried once more. “Who murdered you?”
There was no answer forthcoming from the spirit, but instead I sensed a question from him. He sent to me that he wanted to know if I was a friend of Alum’s. “Yes,” I said aloud. “Alum appeared to me as a spirit, when he was in a coma. He told me that it was his partner, Stanfield Kelly, who shot him.”
I could feel the spirit register surprise at that information. I suppose they don’t know everything once they cross over.
“And,” I continued, “I have to find Alum before the people looking after him bring the other cops into it. If his partner is brought in, then Alum will be dead.”
I could feel the spirit trying to remain at that point, but I could feel him fading away. This wasn’t unusual—the newly deceased had trouble holding communication for too long.
Nevertheless, Constable Decker’s spirit was growing in strength, and soon I was sure he would give me the information I wanted. If only it wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 16
I knocked on the door and waited patiently. I was running a little late (as usual), and I could already hear people inside. The sun was just setting - hopefully I hadn’t missed too much.
I was standing outside Iris’s house because she had invited me over for her birthday party.
Or, more accurately, Constance had invited me over for Iris’s birthday party. Apparently, Constance had been the one to organize it because she said it came naturally to her, more so after she’d apparently organized her neighbor’s young son’s birthday party for tonight as well. When Iris had mentioned that she was thinking of having a party for her birthday, Constance had jumped at the opportunity. I suspected it was more about being able to show off and get attention, than it was about helping a friend, but I didn’t see the harm in it, especially if she did a good job.
Iris opened the door and beamed at me. “Hello, Prudence! Thanks so much for coming!” She gave me a big hug as she said it, and waved me inside.
“Thanks for inviting me, and happy birthday!” I handed her the present I was carrying. She thanked me and quickly tore off the wrapping, revealing the spiritual self-help book I’d bought her. It was something I knew she enjoyed, but the bookstore had such a big collection that I’d had no idea what to choose. To make it worse, I had no idea if she already owned it.
“Thank you so much, Prudence!” she exclaimed happily, before hugging me tightly once more. I guess that meant she liked it.
“You’re very welcome, Iris. How’s your birthday been so far?”
“Yes, very good. Constance did a good job organizing the party.” Iris motioned around the room as she spoke, and I could see she wasn’t lying. While I was typically skeptical of any claims Constance made, it seemed as though she really was good at organizing parties. The house was bustling, and I didn’t recognize at least half the people here. For a second I worried that Constance had just used this as an opportunity to host her own party, but Iris seemed happy enough, and the big collection of discarded wrapping paper and open gifts in the corner of the room suggested that all these guests had at least brought Iris something.
“I can tell,” I said truthfully.
Iris laughed out loud. “I know. I was surprised too, but it turned out very well. Apparently Constance has a big surprise in store,” she added nervously.
“Big surprise?” I asked. “What do you mean? Do you have any idea what it could be?”
“None at all.” Iris glanced at her feet. “I’m a little worried, though. Constance can be sweet sometimes, but also very overbearing. I’m a bit worried about what this surprise is going to be.”
“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” I said, laughing, “so unless she sets the house on fire or something, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You don’t think she’ll set the house on fire, do you?”
“No, Iris, I was joking. Relax, it’ll be fine. You might even love it.”
Iris seemed to cheer up a little. “Thanks, Prudence. I’d better get to mingling. Enjoy yourself!” She smiled and walked away, gently placing the book I gave her on the pile of gifts before heading off to talk with other guests. It seemed like she really did know everybody here, which astounded me. There were so many people that it was hard to walk without having to push past somebody.
I decided I should get myself a drink and look for somebody I knew, rather than standing around awkwardly and waiting for something to happen. After searching through the crowd, I stumbled across a table covered with drinks, and more than anything was surprised at what a good job Constance had done. The table was vast and sporting all kinds of different snacks and drinks, accommodating to seemingly anybody’s tastes. This must have been incredibly expensive, I thought. Oh well, I hadn’t paid for it! I picked up a light red drink and took a sip, hoping it was meant for public consumption.
“It’s a grapefruit cocktail, Prunes,” a voice behind me explained. “You don’t mind if I call you Prunes rather than Prodance, do you?”
I jumped a little and turned around to see Josh giving me his slimiest smile. “Hello, Josh. Yes, I noticed when it tasted like grapefruit,” I said sarcastically. “And I don’t like being called Prunes or Prodance. My name is Prudence.” I wasn’t sure that Josh had done anything to deserve my being rude to him. After all, it was Barbara and Iris who had tried to set us up, and only with the best of intentions. But there was something unpleasant about him, other than just his mannerisms, that is.
“Did you come here alone, Prunes?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, I did,” I said truthfully, followed by something altogether less truthful. “My boyfriend had to stop by at the gym, where he’s training one of his old army buddies. I believe they’re training Krav Maga today.”
“Oh, oh,” Josh stammered, looking a bit put out. “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.”
“Oh, yes,” I lied, partially due to the influence of the surprisingly strong grapefruit cocktail. “I’m sure you must have seen him around town. He’s hard to miss, being six foot seven.”
Before Josh could reply, Constance appeared, as if from nowhere. “Hello, Prudence!” she said, happily. “Hello, Josh!” she said, much more happily.
Josh gave her a weak smile and then turned to me. “Well, Prunes, I’d better be going.”
“Nonsense.” Constance grabbed his hand. “We’ve just started the party!”
“I suppose I shouldn’t want to miss this surprise you keep talking about,” Josh replied.
“Oh.” Constance blushed a little. “I don’t think it’s quite up your alley, to be honest, Josh. It’s more of a thing for girls, really.” She said it quietly, but I heard it all. I wondered what she was up to.
“I see. In that case, I might get going. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Josh tried again to give a genuine smile, but it ended up being a kind of pained smirk.
“Oh no, there’s no need. I can give you a different kind of surprise.” Constance winked as she said it, and I thought Josh might pass out. As much as I enjoyed having his attention moved away from me, I didn’t think he deserved this kind of treatment.
“Great job with the party, Constance.” I meant it, too. I was impressed.
She turned back to face me. “Thank you, Prudence. I’m surprised you’re speaking to me, given that we’re on a break!”
I didn’t think a man had ever looked as pleased as Josh did now that Constance was distracted.
“You know, it’s not the first time I’ve organized a party,” she continued. “I’m an expert on parties.”
“So I heard,” I said evenly. “Apparently, you organized a party for your neighbor’s son?”
“Yes, it’s also tonight. He’s just five years old, and although I despise children, he’s almost bearable. I was telling my neighbor about how I organized this party, and offered to help her organize the one for her son. She kept insisting that she didn’t need the help, the poor dear, but I saw through her and organized it anyway.” She smiled quite happily, and a surge of empathy for her neighbor shot through me.
“Wait a second.” I thought about what Constance had said. “Did you just say you told your neighbor that you’d organized this party, so you knew how to organize parties? Didn’t you say the opposite to Iris—that you’d organized your neighbor’s party, so you knew how to organize this one?”
“You’re rambling, dear.” Constance grabbed a nearby drink and downed it immediately, before picking up another and downing it, too.
“Well, you’ve done a great job anyway.” I smiled. I didn’t want to start an argument with Constance here, especially when I honestly believed it was a good party. Though I wasn’t sure I’d want her to organize one for a child, I suspected she might have a done a good job there, too. “And what’s this surprise we’re all so eager to know more about?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ll never tell.” Constance giggled. “But I bet you’ll enjoy it!”
And I did, very much so, but not at all for the reasons Constance had expected. The surprise arrived about half an hour later, after everybody had arrived and was settled. A knock came from the door, and when Iris answered it she was greeted by an explosion of confetti.
A man—at least, I think it was a man—in a large green chicken suit burst inside and
started dancing and singing. He threw different kinds of candy into the crowd, though a lot of them ended up in drinks on the table or behind furniture. He was singing a children’s song, and the more inebriated among us seemed to enjoy it, though I was initially baffled. I had no idea why Constance would do something so bizarre for Iris’s birthday.
I shot Iris a look and could see she was pulling a kind of strained smile, as if she were trying very hard to pretend that she was enjoying herself. I looked over to see Constance’s reaction and found myself even more confused. Constance’s face was covered with a look of absolute horror, as if the man in the chicken suit was her complete worst nightmare.
I pushed my way through the crowd and tapped Constance on the shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “This is the surprise you had planned, right?”
“Not exactly.” Constance clutched her stomach. “I’d ordered a male stripper.”
I looked at the man in the chicken suit, who was making a balloon animal for a very enthusiastic Josh. Either something was wrong, or this was the worst stripper in the world. “So who’s this guy?” I asked, motioning to the bizarre man.
“He’s the chicken I ordered for my neighbor’s son’s party.” She looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Prudence, I think they’ve been mixed up.”
“Oh,” I said. “Oh no.” If this meant what I thought it did, then Constance had a lot of confused guests, an angry stripper, and an incredibly angry neighbor to deal with, not to mention a possibly traumatized-for-life group of five year olds.
“Look, Constance,” I said, trying to think of something that would make her feel better. “Maybe it’s not too late to call him off.”
“He’s not answering his cell phone,” she said. I imagined it was probably in his pants on the floor somewhere, and had to stifle a laugh. As bad as I felt for Constance, I found the entire situation hilarious.
“If my neighbor calls, tell her I’m not here. Please, Prudence, please.” Constance was practically begging me.
