Blood Tears

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Blood Tears Page 18

by JD Nixon


  Though perhaps I might just take a spin around that neighbourhood when I’m finished here, I thought to myself, knowing only too well the Super would ream me if she ever found out.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  “We stole some things from Merrick when we left.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Valuable things. Precious things. Things that he hadn’t had a chance to pawn. Things that he decided to keep for himself because he liked them.”

  “Like the bracelet and ring you gave us the other night?”

  “Yes. That’s part of the collection.”

  “Hmm. Could that be more the main reason he was trying to find Jamie, rather than hunting you down?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe, or maybe it was both. I sometimes feel like he thought I was one of his . . . things. One of the things he’d decided to keep for himself.”

  That sounded reasonable to me – she was a very pretty girl.

  “Where are these things now?” I asked.

  “I had to leave them where we were staying in your town. I had to find help for my baby.”

  “You did the right thing for your baby,” I agreed. “Just look at her. She’s perfect and safe.”

  “She is perfect.” She leaned over to kiss her baby’s forehead. “Do you have any children?” she asked me.

  “No. Maybe one day.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jake.”

  “I like that name. Is he cute?”

  “He sure is.” I steered the interview back to safer waters. “Annabel, just a few more questions before I leave you to rest. Why didn’t you sell those items? It sounds as though they would have fetched a decent amount of money for you. Why did you need to rob the man who gave you the lift? And Jamie had just held up the grocery store when the accident happened. I don’t understand.”

  “We tried to sell those things, but we didn’t know Merrick’s dodgy friends, and all the pawn brokers we approached demanded ownership documents. We couldn’t shift anything. We were left with all these valuable things, but had no money to buy any food. We had to keep stealing to eat.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. Can you remember where you stayed? I could go and retrieve those items you took. They could be used as evidence.”

  “I don’t know, Officer Tess. I was so scared at the time.”

  “Try to remember. It would be so helpful.”

  “After the ute broke down, we walked for a little while trying to hitch another ride. But we didn’t have any luck. Jamie spotted a shed on a property, so we headed there. But some dogs started barking at us and we were afraid we’d be spotted, so we hurried into the property next to it. Eventually, we found an old shed that looked pretty abandoned. It was really rundown, almost falling apart. There were holes in the ceiling, so all the weather came in.”

  I froze as I wrote, remembering my dream of having a baby in an old shed just as she described.

  “I don’t know any more. I’m sorry.”

  “How did you survive when Jamie disappeared?”

  More tears. “We had a bit of food with us and some water. I had to ration it. I wasn’t eating much at all in the week before Jamie was born. I tried to find things to eat in the bush.”

  “Annabel, that’s so dangerous. There are a lot of poisonous plants out there.”

  “I was hungry,” she said, defensively. “But I couldn’t find anything that looked edible.”

  “And when the baby was coming, why didn’t you go to the property next door?”

  “I tried, but nobody was home. I walked into town. Jamie had stolen an old bike from one of the farms, but I couldn’t ride it feeling how I did.”

  Oh God, I thought. The poor girl, walking all that way while in labour.

  The baby started fussing, and I thought that was a good time for me to leave. “You have my number if you need to tell me anything else, sweetheart. And all my best wishes for you and Jamie in the future. I hope everything works out great for you both.”

  She barely heard me, fully occupied with her now crying baby. I sneaked off without saying anything else, spending the walk to the carpark trying to decide whether I should risk the Super’s wrath going to the station again to let Mr X and Zelda know what I’d learnt, or just ring them from a safe distance.

  My 4WD had a ticket neatly tucked under one of the windscreen wipers.

  “That’s bullshit,” I muttered, reading I’d been booked just five minutes previously for parking in an emergency vehicle space.

  My phone rang. I groaned when I saw my caller.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I asked, wondering again if she had some psychic sense that told her when I was in Big Town.

  “Bum told me he saw your shit bucket of a vehicle parked at the hospital. Fuck knows his dick’s sharper than his brain, and that’s not saying much, so my jaw won’t hit the ground if he’s wrong. Is he?”

  “No, ma’am,” I reluctantly confessed, cursing the distinctive graffiti covering the Land Rover, courtesy of the Bycrafts, of course.

  “Good, saves me ordering you to get your arse up here. We now have a date in my office in about two minutes, and don’t fucking keep me waiting. I’m not in a good mood today.”

  Oh, great, I thought gloomily. She had to be in a really bad mood for even her to notice.

  My day went quickly downhill.

  Chapter 17

  As soon as she screeched at me to enter her office, I threw the parking ticket on her desk.

  “Can you make this disappear for me, please? I was on police business at the hospital at the time, and the Sarge wouldn’t let me take the patrol car. And besides, I can’t afford to pay it.”

  She breathed out a huge haze of cigarette smoke, regarding me thoughtfully through it.

  “I thought I gave you a particularly precise direction not to show your face in this town for a long time.”

  “That’s a hard direction to keep, ma’am,” I said, with more than a hint of tartness, “when you constantly keep calling us here.”

  “Where’s Maguire, anyway?” she snapped, not tolerating my mood for one second. “You’re usually as close together as two arse cheeks.”

  “He’s back in Little Town participating in a teleconference on road safety. As you ordered him to do.” Her light blue eyes pierced me. “Ma’am,” I added belatedly.

  She made some sound of contemptuous dismissiveness – impossible for any normal human to replicate – before taking another drag on her cigarette. “About time one of you did what you were fucking told for once.”

  “I think I might have some information on your spate of petty thefts.”

  She stubbed out her cigarette, reached for another, taking her time to light it. She inhaled deeply, savouring the moment, before exhaling. “I’m listening.”

  Without an invitation, I pulled up one of the chairs across from her desk, and told her everything that Annabel had said to me. And though she had her eyes closed and kept smoking, she was true to her word – she listened.

  When I finished, she made her judgement.

  “That bastard’s probably long gone by now,” she decided, having extinguished her cigarette, and now studying her nails with a deceptive level of disinterest in our discussion. “But, if he’s anywhere close to being the criminal ‘mastermind’ that this girl thinks, with all his connections, he’ll have easily kept tabs on these two kids. Especially if they were trying to hawk stolen gear to various pawnbrokers. I have connections with most of them here in Wattling Bay, so we can check on that part of her story.”

  “Ma’am?” I asked in surprise. As far as I knew, she earned a decent salary, so had no need of a pawnbroker’s service.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tess. I don’t know them because I’m selling off the fucking family silver. You’ve met my mother – in her house you�
�re lucky to find plastic cutlery to eat with. I’m talking about when I was a dee. Use your fucking brain. You know that most of an ordinary dee’s work is break and enters or assaults. I spent half my career interviewing pawnbrokers.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “So, it was when our pair disappeared that this Merrick’s balls started quivering with fear that he might have lost his precious things for good.”

  “That’s what it sounds like. Then I suppose he started hunting them down. I guess he caught a lucky break when one of his gang spotted Jamie and Annabel still hanging around here in town.”

  “Dumbshits. They should have run for it as soon as they left his clutches.” She sighed heavily with utter weariness. “Fuck knows I’ve seen a lot of bad shit in my career, but this case just reminds me how much this world is fucked ten ways to tomorrow. You say her baby might be his?”

  “That’s what she told me, ma’am.”

  “Poor kid,” she said in a rare moment of sympathy.

  “Do you really think he’s left town by now?”

  “He didn’t manage to find the kids, and as far as we know, he hasn’t got his shit back. He’s probably cut his losses and pissed off. Only a crazy fucker would stay in town knowing that if the girl ever showed up here, she could squeal on him.”

  “But if he hasn’t left, Annabel could be in danger. It really sounds as if they stole some things he values more than anything. And according to her, she was one of his things. She’s a very pretty young girl, and she seems quite compliant too. It’s easy to see why some control freak of an old perv like him would want to keep her around as his plaything. She’s afraid he’ll find her. She wants to protect her baby from him.”

  “She’s safe enough in the hospital for now. If this guy is as cautious as she says, he won’t hang around waiting for her to spill the beans on him. Like I said, he’d have to be a crazy fucker to value property over his freedom. That’s not the thinking of a criminal mastermind.”

  “Can you pass on all this info to the dees you have working the petty thefts? I gave Mr X and Zelda a description and a photo of this Merrick guy.”

  “I haven’t assigned a dee team to those thefts. I was managing it in an ad hoc way, while I decided what to do about it. But now that you’ve told me all this, I suppose I’ll have to give it to someone. Fuck knows who, though. If only those arse-twats in the city would give me more fucking staff. Every dee I have is already flat out working multiple cases.”

  “At least you have a description and a name now.”

  She snorted in derision. “I suppose I should be grateful for fucking small mercies.” Her sharp eyes pinned me again. “Now, there was a reason I wanted you here today. She stubbed out her cigarette, and said in her blunt way, “Denny Bycraft’s body is being released to the family tomorrow.”

  “Oh. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to hear that. They’ll be able to plan his funeral now.”

  “Speaking of the funeral, it’s been confirmed that Red, Tommy, Karl and Ritchie Bycraft have all been approved for release to attend. A foursome of felonious fuckwits, if I ever heard of one.”

  “I don’t know what they’re thinking letting Red out of jail to attend. It’s insanity. He’s an escapee. He can’t be trusted for a second.”

  “It’s those fucking do-gooders in the bureaucracy. Soft hearts to match their soft brains and soft cocks.”

  “I hope they’re sending enough Corrective Services staff to accompany them.”

  “Probably not. Probably just going to send one dopey, arse-scratching bastard to look after all four of them. I’m telling you this because I want you and Maguire to be on alert from now until the funeral. And Tess . . .”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You will not go to that funeral.”

  “I am going to Denny’s funeral.”

  “I am giving you a direct order that you will not attend that funeral.”

  “You can’t give me orders about things I do in my own private time,” I said defiantly.

  “You won’t be on your own private time. You will be working that day, and you will stay away from that funeral. Do I make myself clear?”

  “But, ma’am, I –”

  “Do I make myself fucking clear?”

  “All I want to do is –”

  “Do I make myself fucking clear?”

  I stood. “Perfectly clear.”

  “Good. Sod off back home.”

  Without another word, I spun, and stormed out of her office. On my way out, I saw Blondie in the foyer, talking to the duty sergeant at the desk. It might have just been my imagination, but her figure looked a little fuller, and her face carried an air of contentment. Maybe even smugness.

  Big deal, I thought sourly. It was just having a baby. Thousands of women did it every day. I could have a baby too, if I wanted. But not with Jake, I told myself. No, not with Jake.

  Despite what the Super had just told me to do, I chose to stick to my original plan. Before I headed home, I’d take a spin past the address that Annabel had given me where she’d lived with the gang.

  It turned out to be situated in a semi-industrial suburb, surrounded by small factories and businesses, and with no near residential neighbours. It was a location for which Merrick had probably specifically looked when renting. A fairly large, two-storey, rather dilapidated old house, it contained not one redeeming feature saving itself from its own external ugliness.

  As I cruised past it, I decided to have a quick poke around to satisfy myself that Merrick and his gang had indeed moved on. I pulled over to the curb and parked. I wasn’t worried about leaving the Land Rover with its broken locks in this neighbourhood, figuring that if someone stole it, they’d be doing me a favour. I might get some money back on insurance.

  Although it wasn’t my case, and I knew the Super would be apoplectic if she ever found out I hadn’t returned immediately to Little Town, I continued my quest. Just a little look around, I promised myself, and then I’ll go straight home like the obedient officer I am.

  The house had a closed-up look about it that strongly suggested it was currently vacant. What misery had Annabel endured here, I wondered sadly. At least she was away from that creep now, and he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  I walked up the stairs to the verandah and peered through one of the front-facing windows. It was grimy, so I had to clear a small patch with my hand, wiping the dirt on my cargo pants afterwards.

  The house was dark inside, and it took me a little while to realise I was looking in at what appeared to be the lounge room. A motley collection of shabby furniture remained in situ – perhaps the house had come furnished? Or perhaps they’d taken off in a real hurry?

  I tried the handle of the front door, more out of habit than any expectation it would open. But, to my surprise, the knob twisted obligingly under my hand. Perhaps they really had left in such a hurry that they’d forgotten to lock it.

  Hmm, I should probably make sure everything was okay inside, I rationalised to myself, knowing full well that the Sarge would not be impressed with that decision. This was exactly how careless police officers got themselves into a whole lot of hot water, particularly when they had no back up, and nobody knew where they were.

  I pushed open the door cautiously, pulling out my gun. No point in being unprepared for the worst, I thought. I stepped into the lounge room, to be met by a musty smell that spoke of a house that had been locked up for weeks. Empty food wrappers and cans were scattered about on various surfaces, but apart from that, there were no signs that the house was occupied.

  Relaxing a little, I stepped through an arched doorway into the kitchen. It didn’t appear that housekeeping was one of the things Merrick had taught his gang members, because they’d left quite a mess behind. Mouldering food sat on dirty bench tops, and it didn’t look as though the stovetop had been cleaned for months. A vile smell emanated from the switched off fridge, which on investigation turned out to be some chicken that had bee
n left on a plate, and had since turned putrid.

  “Gross,” I muttered to myself, hastily shutting the door and trying not to puke.

  A door from the kitchen opened on to an equally messy dining room, with two bedrooms, and a grotty bathroom completing the ground floor.

  A staircase led up to the first floor. I stood looking up at it, trying to decide whether or not to keep going. It was more than obvious that the gang had abandoned the house weeks ago.

  Oh, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. Five more minutes wasn’t going to make much of a difference to when I arrived back in Little Town.

  Halfway up the stairs, a scuffling noise from above froze me in my spot. I stayed motionless, ears straining, tightening my grip on my gun. The noise repeated, more distinctive this time.

  “Police!” I said loudly. “Show yourself.”

  The scuffling suddenly stopped, and silence enveloped the house again. But I couldn’t escape the feeling that someone was listening intently – much as I was doing at that same moment.

  “Police,” I repeated. “Show yourself now.”

  I crept up a few more stairs, trying to determine from which room the sound had come.

  With no warning, a figure holding something dashed from one of the rooms and flew down the stairs, bowling me over. I tumbled backwards, bouncing down the staircase to come to a hard stop on the landing, my gun flying out of my hand.

  With no time to think about the pain, I scrambled to my feet, picked up my gun, and chased after the fleeing man.

  It was Merrick.

  He ran through the ground floor to the back of the house.

  “Hey, stop!” I yelled.

  He flung open the back door and disappeared. I pounded after him only to spot him climbing into a car, reversing carelessly, and speeding down the side driveway.

  “Damn!” I cried out. I ran down the side after him, watching helplessly as he drove away.

  I sprinted to my 4WD and turned the key, only to have the engine fail to catch.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I shouted in frustration, banging my fists on the steering wheel.

 

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