by JD Nixon
“That’s not really the welcome back I was looking for from you.”
“Tough luck,” I said, stomping off to find the station’s ancient old bucket and mop.
Twenty minutes later, in which the Sarge also had a speedy shower, shave, and changed into uniform, we were speeding to Big Town, breaking a few road rules along the way.
I let my gaze linger on his face.
“What?” he asked, darting a quick glance at me.
“Decided to get rid of that fungus on your face, huh? Afraid of what of the Super might say about it?”
He ran his fingers over his clean-shaven top lip. “I miss it already.”
“Was it the reason you broke up with Melissa?” I asked with a smirk.
“She quite liked it, actually,” he said mildly.
I desperately wanted to ask him what had happened between them, but I didn’t want him to think I was at all interested.
“So how was it with Baz?” he asked, breaking the silence as he sped up to overtake a road train.
I cut him a sour look. “How do you think it was? I couldn’t blink without his permission. It was stifling.”
“I haven’t ever worked with him –”
“Of course not. That’s only for bad cops like me.”
He ignored my acidity, continuing, “But he’s a decent fellow by all accounts.”
“He was all right, but he just got on my nerves. I’m glad it’s over.”
“So you’re pleased I’m back?”
“I didn’t say that.”
His mouth compressed, but he determinedly carried on. “It could have been much worse for you, Tessie. You could have been demoted. Would you really want to be a constable again?”
I stared out the window. “No. I would have quit if they’d decided that. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You did one thing wrong.”
“What was that?”
“You tried to stick up for me. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have,” I said to myself, not forgetting the misery that had swamped me when he’d willingly agreed to leave town.
“You should have just let me cop my suspension on the chin. No matter how I feel about taking his life, I knew I had no choice but to shoot Dylan, or he would have seriously injured or killed you. There was no reasoning with him. I knew that after their investigation, the PIU would come to that conclusion too. I knew I’d be exonerated eventually.”
“It must be nice to know everything.”
“Tessie . . .”
I didn’t reply or look his way, so we finished the drive in silence, pulling into one of the police vehicle car spaces at the Big Town station. We virtually had to drag Mark into the watch house, trying to spare our boots when he vomited again on the bitumen.
“Oh, gross,” said Senior Sergeant Daisy Yu, the duty officer on the processing counter, screwing up her nose and turning her face away. “Who’s this revolting specimen you’ve dragged in?”
“Mark Bycraft,” I told her. “He king-hit Sergeant Chives early this morning. Knocked him out cold.”
“Poor Baz. He’s all right, isn’t he?” she asked sharply.
“He’s been examined by a doctor, and he told me he’s feeling fine this morning,” assured the Sarge.
“Good to hear.” She turned to a couple of watch house officers who leant on a wall chatting near the entry to the holding cells. “Oi! You two! Get over here and take this piece of scum into one of the cells. And keep an eye on him. He smells like he’s been spewing recently.”
“In the car park,” I informed her. “And in our lockup.”
“He better not spew in one of my cells or I’ll rub his face in it,” she tutted, and tapped industriously on her keyboard as I gave her all his relevant details. “Okay, Tess. I think that’s enough information to process him. I’ll get him to fill in some of these gaps when he’s compos mentis again. Not that those Bycrafts ever are.” She gave a hard bark of laughter. “Anyone else to process?”
“Nope. The other one didn’t want to press charges against this Bycraft,” said the Sarge.
“Typical! Bloody Bycrafts. Pack of wild animals, if you ask me.” She leaned on the counter. “I have to warn you though, I’ll be chucking him out of here the second he’s sobered up and he has his court date. We’re bursting at the seams. Must be coming up to a full moon again.”
“Great,” I complained. “So he gets to walk after assaulting an officer?”
“He’ll get his comeuppance eventually,” she said calmly. We made moves to leave. “Oh, guys, I almost forgot. The Super’s after you.”
“We know,” I said gloomily.
“She’s rung down here about three times looking for you this morning. Better not keep her waiting.”
“Do we look suicidal?” asked the Sarge wryly, making the Senior Sarge laugh.
“You’d have to be to keep her waiting this morning.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising for us,” said the Sarge to me on our way to the lift.
“Oh, and Maguire?” called the Senior Sarge. He turned around. “Welcome back.”
“Finally!” he exalted, following me to the lift. “See, she didn’t find it that hard to welcome me back.”
“Good for her.” I repeatedly jabbed the floor number we needed. “She’s always liked tackling the impossible.”
“You’re so funny, Fuller.”
Determined to get whatever bollocking the Super planned for me over and done with so I could scuttle out of her sight again, I barged out of the lift first. And ran smack bang into the huge, over-muscled hulk of Bum, the impact sending me reeling back into the Sarge.
“Steady on there, Tessie,” he said, holding my arms to stabilise me.
I surprised everyone, even myself, by jumping away from him as if I’d been poked with a cattle prod. I did not want him touching me. Unfortunately, my rushed movement caused me to virtually throw myself at Bum, which, in my humble opinion, was going from the frying pan into the fire. I especially didn’t want him touching me either.
“Tessie,” Bum exclaimed in delight, slipping his arms around me. “I’m really pleased to see you too. It’s been a while. Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.”
“Ugh!” I said, shoving him away, and stalking off down the hall.
The Sarge caught up with me at the Super’s doorway. She was on the phone and held up her palm to tell us to stay outside.
“What the hell was that about, Tess?” he whispered fiercely, leaning down to look me closely in the eyes.
“Nothing,” I hissed back. “You know I don’t like people touching me.”
He sighed harshly. “I thought we’d moved beyond that.”
I rounded on him. “Look, if you think you can just waltz back into town and everything will be the same, then you’re deluding yourself. Everything isn’t the same. Everything’s changed. Learn to deal with it.”
“Get in here, you two!” the Super bellowed in her hard, husky voice. A constable passing by jumped in fright at the sound of it, dropping all his papers to the ground, leaving him nervously scrabbling around scooping them up. The Super kind of had that effect on everyone.
We stood obediently in front of her desk, waiting for her to invite us to sit down. She kept us waiting for a while, before the merest flick of her wrist indicated we had permission to sit.
“What was all that fucking hissing about just then? I thought Bum had sprung a leak on one of his over-pumped muscles,” she commented, casting baleful eyes on me, and then the Sarge. “Were you two fighting?”
“No, ma’am,” I lied.
“No, ma’am,” he lied.
“Fuck knows I’m less pleased than a cannibal at a vegetarian buffet to see you two working together again, but if you have to, you’ll do it as a fucking team. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we said.
“A team tighter than Bum’s arse muscles. Understand?”
She took a moment to light a cigarette, enjoying a few drags before speaking again.
“So you,” she poked her cigarette in the Sarge’s direction, a bit of ash flying off the end, almost landing in his lap, “recognise that she’s fucking pissed off with you for leaving her to deal with the Bycrafts while you swanned around overseas drinking champagne and eating croissants. Sort it out. Pronto.”
“And you.” My turn for the ash flicking. “Get over yourself already and move on. What happened has happened, so move on. Maguire fucked off on you, but now he’s back, so move on. Your disciplinary time is over, so fucking move on. Are you managing to see a pattern in what I’m saying to you?” I pursed my lips tightly. “And think about this, Tess – the next time you want to go batshit insane, don’t do it in a room full of fucking brass.”
I steeled myself not to flinch at her angry words, keeping my eyes determinedly fixed on hers.
“And you can stop giving me the evil eye all the time. I’ve fucking had enough of it.”
I thought that was unfair, as I hadn’t set eyes on her since the Sarge was suspended. Though to be honest, I’d been sending her hundreds of telepathic evil eye looks since then, so maybe she’d picked up on those.
I stood. “Is that all, ma’am?” I asked politely.
“No, it fucking isn’t!” she shouted, loud enough to make someone in the hall squeal in fear, followed by the sound of running feet. “Plant your arse back on that seat now.”
I planted my arse and waited for the rest of the bollocking to come, fairly confident she definitely hadn’t called us in to congratulate us for arresting Mark, or to welcome back the Sarge.
“Now, I want you two to listen up, and to listen good, because I don’t intend to say this twice.” She paused, making sure we were all ears. “I did not want you two to work together again. If I’d had my way, Maguire would have been sent back to the city. I was overruled.” She shot the Sarge a malevolent glare, as if it was all his fault. “So I don’t want to hear any more bullshit from either of you. You will police that shithole of a town, and you will police it well. Maguire, you will fucking supervise your senior constable. Tessie, you will fucking listen to your sergeant. I don’t want to hear about any more unauthorised high speed chases, or any more bumbling detective work, or any more fucking complaints, especially from that old sow, Villiers. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we both said with a palpable degree of resentment.
“It would make me the happiest superintendent in the whole fucking state to not hear one word about you or that arse-smear of a town you call home for the next fifty fucking years. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, fuck off. I’m flat out trying to decide what to do about all these petty thefts. They’re sucking up too much of my uniforms’ time.”
But at the door, she called the Sarge back. “And get a fucking haircut, Maguire. It’s not one of your hipster Euro nightclubs around here. It’s a workplace with rules. Do you remember what they are?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We almost made it out the door this time before she yelled out my name. “Tess, I forgot to tell you that Baz has formally ticked off on your disciplinary time.”
“Is that good or bad, ma’am?” I asked, suddenly remembering all the times I’d spoken back to him.
“It’s good, you dumbarse. That means I can sign off on it, and it’s done and dusted and relegated to history.”
“The Deputy Commissioner won’t ever forget it.”
Her ashtray being too full, she crushed out her cigarette butt on a pile of Police Commissioner memos. “Stop big-noting yourself. That dipshit has more important things to think about than a senior constable in a flyshit town like yours. He’s forgotten about you already.”
“It will still be recorded on my personnel file.”
Her face softened a little, but only a little – like a light dusting of snow on a craggy mountain. “So fucking what? It’s not necessarily a block to your future career. Now, piss off. I’m busy.”
I knew then that what Baz had implied was true. Fiona had been cop-wrangled herself. Feeling slightly more buoyant at that thought, I joined a patiently waiting Sarge at the lift.
“I’d hoped she’d give me a bit of a break instead of chewing my arse off on my second day,” he commented wryly as we waited for the lift to arrive.
“That was her affectionate welcome back. I think she missed you.”
He laughed. “Just as much as I missed her.”
“Before we go, can I drop these copies of my latest report into Mr X and Zelda? It’s really important.”
“Sure thing.”
We detoured to the dees area, but neither Mr X nor Zelda were at their desks. One of the other dees informed us that they were out on a new violent assault case that had landed on their desks yesterday afternoon.
“They’ll never give priority to an accidental death over a violent assault,” I complained to the Sarge as he waited for a gap in traffic to pull out from the police station. “Mr X told me they were already working multiple cases. They need to hire more cops.”
“I suppose the department can only hire as many as allowed in the budget it’s given each year.”
“Bloody politicians. They wouldn’t have a clue what it’s like being a frontline cop.”
“To be fair, I’m sure they try to find out as much as they can about frontline conditions.”
“Sure they do.”
Spotting something off to the side of the road, he said, “Think you can entertain yourself for ten or fifteen minutes?”
“I’m sure I’ll manage without you somehow.”
He pulled over and parked, disappearing into a shop.
While he was gone, I spent the next ten minutes mulling over my interview with Mr Mansfield, and what he’d told me about Jamie and his girlfriend. I wondered if it was worth the Sarge and me poking around the bushland in the area where Dave’s ute had been abandoned to see if we could find a place where Jamie’s girlfriend might be staying.
When he returned, his hair was newly cut to required length.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Meh. It’s so boringly regulation. I preferred your hipster Euro nightclub look better,” I smiled. “Lucky for you, the Super didn’t set eyes on that hairy abomination you called a moustache.”
“I think I have to agree with you there, though it would have been interesting to have heard what she said.”
“It certainly would have been colourful.”
I was just about to open my mouth again to suggest my idea of looking for the place the teenagers stayed, when he spoke. “Tessie, as much as I hate to say it, I think there was a lot right about what the Super said. I know you think I abandoned you, and I guess no matter how I try to rationalise it to you, you’re always going to see it as a betrayal of sorts.”
I looked down at my hands, deciding not to bother to deny it. “I’ll get over it,” I said quietly. One day.
“I just want to say a simple sorry, without going into the reasons why I thought it was the best decision at the time. I’m really sorry, Tessie.” Eyes still down, I nodded to let him know I’d heard him. “I wish none of it had happened. But you trusted that I would come back, didn’t you?”
I guess my continuing silence told him everything.
“I promised you I would. You know me better than to think I’d break my promise to you, don’t you?” I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, my voice muted. “You’ve returned for now, but you’ll leave again one day. And one day, I’ll leave too. And eventually that horrible day on Mount Big might just fade away to be nothing more than a bad memory that both of us only think about now and then.”
“This might surprise you, but that’s exactly what I hope for too one day – that we’ll bot
h leave and can put the past behind us.”
That made me sad for some reason I couldn’t explain, except that it suggested he’d already decided that he wouldn’t be staying in Little Town for long. He probably wanted to relegate both Dylan’s death and working with me to his same bad memories file. All I could hope for myself was that I wouldn’t be there forever either, because I knew I’d never forget that awful night I’d spent alone with two dead men on that damn mountain.
“Hearing Lola Bycraft call us both murderers shocked me a bit,” he admitted. “She can’t be ignorant about who actually killed her son?”
“She doesn’t care that it was Dylan. We’re the reason Denny was up the mountain, so in her mind, we’re responsible for his death.”
He reached out and laid his hand on my forearm. Maybe it was the previous night’s adventures, my fight with Jakey this morning, the Super’s bollocking, or that I was just plain tired, but I didn’t shake it off this time.
“I can see just from that little incident that you’ve had a really hard time in town the last couple of months,” he said, his voice warm.
“Baz was there to help.”
“Yeah, but he was there to supervise, not to crack heads open, like I am.”
That made me smile a little. “Tough talking man, huh?”
“That’s me. I was extremely bored overseas. I’m looking forward to a bit of biffo with the Bycrafts.”
“Sounds like a reality TV show. Biffo with the Bycrafts.”
“I bet people would line up around the block to have a go at them once they saw what they are like.”
“I’m going to Denny’s funeral.” I didn’t know why I blurted that out.
“Oh, Tessie, that’s a terrible idea,” he said, dismayed. “Why would you even think of doing that?”
“He saved my life,” I said stubbornly. “Why wouldn’t I want to go to pay my respects?”
“You won’t be welcome. Even you must see that.”
“Don’t care.”
“What does Jake say? He’s probably the most moderate of the whole family.” My silence told him everything. “For God’s sake, Tess. Why go looking for trouble?”
“I’m not having them telling me what I can and can’t do, especially when what I want to do is the decent and right thing.”
