Simone Kirsch 03 - Cherry Pie

by Leigh Redhead

  ‘Actually, Holly, there is something you can do,’ I said. ‘Give me the address of the land you and Dillon own out at Kangaroo Ground.’

  She started and almost dropped the baby. ‘What. Why?’

  ‘Because we’re going there to get Andi.’

  Her mouth fell open and her hazel eyes went wide. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I don’t understand everything either but it looks like your husband was on with her. I think they had an argument after the staff party and he attacked her and drove to your property to dispose of the body.’

  Holly sucked in a breath. ‘No, you’re wrong. He was home all night.’

  She would say that.

  ‘What’s the address?’

  ‘I don’t remember offhand.’

  ‘But you could get it, right? Must have the title deeds at home?’

  ‘I don’t know where exactly. It would take me a while …’

  She would say that too. I shook my head. ‘Protect him all you like, babe, but I’ve told the Homicide Squad what I know. Your husband’s going down.’ I turned and marched off, Chloe following close behind.

  Jouissance looked warm inside with its glowing orange lights, flickering candles and dark wood. We reached the door just as Yasmin turned the sign to ‘Closed’. She lifted her head, realised who we were and lunged for the lock. Too late. Chloe and I had already pressed our palms to the glass and we pushed with all our might. She tottered back, nearly fell out of her court shoes and righted herself as we barged in. She drew herself up, smoothed her immaculate chignon and pointed.

  ‘That’s it, I’m calling the police!’

  Chloe rushed into her, head first. The back of Yasmin’s knees hit a plush armchair and she fell into the seat. ‘Siddown and shut up, you scrawny freak,’ Chloe yelled, standing over her. ‘I wasn’t joking about that fucking phone!’

  I glanced around. Trip sat at the bar looking tired and washed out. I’d heard on the news he’d been arrested and charged over the money laundering, but had been released on bail. He raised two fingers in a halfhearted wave and didn’t seem surprised to see us or remotely bothered by the fact that Chloe was threatening to insert telecommunications equipment into his girlfriend’s nether regions. The other chefs, clustered on a banquette, sat and stared. Through the glass panel I saw a couple of diners in the restaurant, lingering over a decanted bottle of red. Patsy had his back to us, setting tables, and Bad Boy was mopping the kitchen. No sign of Dillon.

  I rushed over to Trip, no time for pleasantries. ‘Where’s Dillon?’

  ‘Around here somewhere, why?’

  ‘I need the address of his property at Kangaroo Ground. You were right about him. He did something to Andi and we’ve got to go find her, there’s a chance she’s still alive.’

  ‘Shit.’ He sat up straight on his padded stool. At that moment Dillon sauntered out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of freshly washed martini glasses and whistling a tune. The jolly little melody enraged me and I couldn’t help myself.

  I ran at the bastard.

  Chapter Fifty

  Dillon pulled up short and backed away when he saw the expression on my face.

  ‘Simone. I heard about—’

  ‘Shut the fuck up,’ I growled. ‘I know all about your affair, and what you did to Andi. We’re going there now to find her, dead or alive, and you’d better hope to god the cops arrest you before I get back because I’m holding you personally responsible for ruining my life.’

  ‘You’re fucked in the head.’ He jerked his chin up, flipping straight brown hair out of his eyes. ‘Get out of my way.’

  I shoved his chest and he staggered and dropped the tray, the delicate glasses shattering with an almighty crash. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the diners hand Patsy the black folder containing their payment and hightail it down the back corridor. Bad Boy slumped out of the kitchen and he and Patsy inserted themselves in the archway, eager to see what was going on.

  Dillon looked at Trip, eyes begging, willing his boss to come to his aid. Trip just shook his head and the other chefs followed his lead and stared at the floor. Chloe had Yasmin pinned in the armchair by the front door. Dillon was on his own.

  ‘I didn’t do anything to Andi.’ He talked slowly and precisely, his eyes narrowed and his voice simmering with rage.

  ‘Bullshit. You texted her after the staff party, from a public phone, to make sure it couldn’t be traced, went round to her place, bashed her probably, bundled her into the Datsun and dumped her body at Kangaroo Ground. Of course you were too fucking dense or panicked to realise she was still alive and in possession of her mobile phone. Then I reckon you left the Datto at the station, caught the first train to the city, another to Ormond, cleaned out her place and drove your four wheel drive out of there so fast you nearly knocked over a cyclist. Home to wifey, back to bed, then the acting role of your life, pretending you were innocent and didn’t know what happened to her. Did you cut the head off the possum to freak me out and encourage me to investigate?’

  ‘Possum? I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Why would I kill Andi?’

  ‘I dunno. Maybe she was gonna tell your wife what was going on and there goes your little nest egg. You tell me.’

  He scoffed. ‘I never touched her. We never had an affair!’

  ‘Come on, mate,’ Trip said. ‘I saw you two making goo-goo eyes. There was your secret rendezvous in the booth at Mink, the party pash.’

  Dillon laughed. ‘Sure, I flirted with Andi but not ’cause I wanted to sleep with her.’

  ‘Why then?’ Trip seemed puzzled that anyone would be bothered to flirt if they weren’t after a root.

  ‘Because …’ Dillon flicked his hair again and a pink flush rose to his high cheekbones.‘ … I wanted her to invest in my film. I knew she had money saved and I thought if I buttered her up she’d give it to me and I could buy the editing equipment. It was a loan,’ he said quickly. ‘I was going to pay her back when the film started making money.’

  A short film making money? He had to be even more stupid than he looked. But if he was that dumb, how had he got away with it for so long?

  ‘How much she lend you?’ I asked.

  ‘Five grand. I needed to finish the film. The in-laws wouldn’t give me any more money and Rochelle wouldn’t let us sell the stupid land. I know I probably shouldn’t have led Andi on, but I was desperate. That’s what we were doing at Mink. She was handing over the cash.’

  It explained the withdrawal from Andi’s account but didn’t mean he didn’t try to knock her.

  ‘Tell me where she is and how to get there,’ I snarled. ‘I’m running out of time.’

  ‘Can’t you get it through your head? It wasn’t me and I don’t know! I’ve never even been to Kangaroo fucking Ground. Jesus, I hate the country, it’s full of bugs and rednecks.

  Holly took care of that shit. She went out there when we got the land evaluated, she can vouch for me. She’ll tell you I didn’t leave the house after the staff party and I slept right through till one in the afternoon, the deepest sleep of my life, god, like I was drugged or something.’

  Dillon was expressing a convincing mix of desperation and self righteous indignation and if I hadn’t known he was an actor I’d have been taken in. Until I remembered I’d seen him in his short film and he’d been bloody awful. I knew he was under pressure but how could a such crap performer suddenly pull an Academy Award performance out of his arse? Unless it wasn’t an act …

  ‘Honestly, Holly’ll be here soon to clear up this bullshit. Just ask her.’

  I looked at Chloe. I’d thought Holly was right behind us.

  ‘Where’s Holly?’ I asked.

  She ran to the door and looked down the street where the four wheel drive had been parked. ‘Car’s gone. She’s taken off.’

  Everything hit me all at once. I’d thought Dillon was an idiot, but it was me who’d been the fool.

  ‘Holly’s really jealo
us, yeah?’ I asked him.

  ‘Not really …’

  Patsy snorted, leaning against the arch. ‘Yeah, right. She’s the green eyed monster personified. Wouldn’t hire any female staff when she ran this place and I think she was even worried about me! You told me yourself that she attacked a girl when you guys lived in Sydney, a chick who came up and danced with you in a club.’

  ‘That was a long time ago,’ Dillon protested. ‘She got counselling. She’s really mellowed since she had Eddie. She wouldn’t. She was home with me all night.’

  ‘You said you slept like you were drugged …’ I was almost certain. Everyone else thought Dillon and Andi were having an affair. What if Holly thought so too? What if she’d seen them kiss at the party? I thought through my theory and slotted Holly in, in place of her husband. It all worked out.

  There was just one more question to ask.

  ‘Did you guys spend all last week together?’

  ‘Except for Thursday and Friday. She had to go up to her old school unexpectedly, to coach some girls in a hockey camp. They couldn’t find anyone else and she didn’t want to let them down. I stayed home from work and looked after Eddie.’

  ‘Where’s her old school?’ I asked.

  ‘Just outside Sydney. She flew there on Thursday morning. Why?’

  I looked at Chloe. ‘She’s got a twenty minute head start,’ I said. ‘We need to find the address and get there, fast.’

  I heard a cough and turned around. Trip had slid off his stool and was dangling his keys.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Trip took Dillon home to Albert Park and called me as soon as he’d unearthed the address of the Kangaroo Ground property. He also told me that Holly wasn’t there, which was no great surprise. By the time he’d returned to Jouissance Chloe and I had printed a map and directions from a computer in Yasmin’s office and were arguing in the cobbled laneway out the back.

  ‘We can’t fit three on the bike,’ I told Chloe.

  ‘Then kick Trip off. I can handle this motherfucker.’

  ‘No way.’ He squared his shoulders.

  ‘It’s a bike, not your penis.’ She put her hands on her hips.

  ‘I’ve got no problem with either of you riding my dick, but the Ducati’s out of the question.’

  Jesus.

  ‘Get a cab to your car then catch up to us,’ I suggested. We were seriously running out of time.

  ‘No. I’m your freaking sidekick and I’m coming with you!’

  He shrugged. ‘We can all fit, just. I’ve had three on the bike before, with the Russian models. It’ll slow us down though.’

  ‘What about the police?’ I asked.

  ‘Fuck the police!’ he yelled and Chloe grinned and high fived him. Friends again.

  ‘Okay, fine,’ I said, ‘let’s just go.’

  Trip handed us the two helmets and hopped on, Chloe behind him, me bringing up the rear half sitting on the carry rack. After crawling along the Esplanade he hit Fitzroy and finally we were struggling up Punt Road and onto Hoddle.

  When we turned onto the Eastern Freeway he tried to gun it but the engine protested against the extra weight.

  Then I heard the sirens. I turned my head to see a police car pull parallel, the uniformed officer in the passenger seat waving us down. Trip hit the throttle and the engine groaned.

  Damn. We couldn’t outrun them and the damn cowboys in the cop car were veering over, forcing us onto the verge. Trip stopped the bike before we crashed into the ditch at the side of the road.

  He swore. ‘It’s okay, I’ll talk to them.’

  He kicked the stand out, left the keys in and slid off the bike. Cars zoomed by, beeping at us, and Chloe and I pushed our visors up and watched as he sauntered over to the cops.

  I couldn’t hear the exact words but within seconds they were arguing and Trip was waving his arms around. One of the officers reached for Trip and he batted him away then both tried to grab him and he whirled and started running down the side of the road. Christ, could it get any worse? Chloe started scooting forward on the seat.

  ‘Kick the stand,’ she yelled over her shoulder.

  ‘Chloe.’

  ‘Come on, mate, I can’t. My feet don’t reach the ground. You wanna find Andi or not?’

  Shit. Trip was probably seconds away from getting arrested and she was already revving the engine so I whacked the stand with my heel and we took off down the freeway.

  I didn’t look back to see Trip’s reaction.

  A little further along Chloe turned off at the Burwood exit. I had to hand it to her, she knew how to ride the thing and was smart enough to follow the speed limit to avoid attention.

  I just had to remember to put my feet down and balance the bike whenever we stopped at the lights.

  We sped through the suburbs and gradually the houses were fewer and the road became lined with ghostly gums, wooden fences and tangled vines. The air was freezing and held the sharp eucalypt scent of the bush. We had to stop a couple of times and pull a torch out of the saddlebags to study the map but eventually we were trundling down a winding dirt road, checking out mailboxes made from chopped off forty-four gallon drums.

  Finally we found the lot number we were looking for and rode up a gravel driveway, winding around a hillside, traversing steep hills and sharp declines, and although the bike wasn’t designed for off road riding and skidded a bit on the pebbly surface, Chloe maintained control. I’d been so wrong that night outside Jouissance—she really was one hell of a sidekick.

  We roared up a near vertical hill and rocketed down the slope on the other side, picking up speed. Too late the headlight picked up a metal gate at the bottom, on the far side of a concrete ford. She laid off the accelerator and hit the brake but the bike was too heavy and had built up too much momentum to stop. Just before we slammed into the gate she chucked a hard right and the back wheel spun out. I tried to hold on but couldn’t and flew through the air toward the bushes, eyes squeezed tight.

  I came to a few seconds later in a clump of bracken, a couple of metres from the Ducati. A rock gouged my shoulder and my ankle throbbed, but my fluffy white jacket must have protected me because I could move my limbs and nothing seemed to be broken. I sat up and ripped the helmet off. In the glow of the headlight I saw Chloe trapped under the fallen bike and I limped over.

  ‘Ow,’ she moaned, ‘it hurts.’

  I don’t know where the strength came from but I lifted the Ducati, grunting, and flipped it off her, the bike crunching when it hit the gravel. I found the torch, pointed the light and saw that her leg was twisted underneath her.

  ‘It’s broken.’

  ‘Fuck.’ I felt in her pockets and found her phone, checked the screen. No signal.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she cried, ‘I’ve fucked everything up.’

  ‘No you didn’t, babe. You got us here. Hold on, okay? I’ll get to higher ground, call for help.’

  I climbed over the padlocked gate and hobbled up the hill on the other side, the torch beam wobbling over the stony track and illuminating creeping vines and snarled scrub. I constantly checked the phone for the bars that would indicate I had a signal, but there was nothing. The night was freezing, arctic almost, and my ragged breath came out in cloudy puffs as I laboured to the top of the hill and climbed over another gate, the skin of my palms almost adhering to the icy metal.

  The full moon behind the cloud cover dispersed an eerie light and ahead I made out a clearing, the hulking shape of an old two storey house and a large shed or barn off to the left.

  No sign of life, no burgundy four wheel drive. Looked like Holly hadn’t come after all. Most likely she’d fled the state—I would’ve—but I turned the torch off anyway, just in case.

  As I crossed the clearing a night bird let out a witchy screech and I stopped dead, my skin prickling with a stupid childhood fear of dead people risen from the grave, zombie creatures lurking and watching from behind the trees. Get a grip, I told myself, get
to the second storey of the house, call for help, then look for Andi. You’re not a frightened kid, you’re a twenty-eight year old, hard-arse PI. I didn’t really convince myself but when I heard no more screeching, only the chirrup of a cricket or a frog, I exhaled a shaky breath and took off again toward the house. I’d just put one foot onto the creaky, tilting veranda when I heard a low moan.

  At first I thought it might have been a cow but when it happened again I realised it was human and coming from the bush beyond the house. Andi? Had she heard the bike or seen the torch light before I’d switched it off? I didn’t want to go into the zombie filled scrub, but I had to, she might be dying, and Chloe would surely be okay for another couple of minutes.

  I switched the torch back on, stumbled around the side of the house and plunged in, tripping over tree roots, vines and branches slapping my face.

  Every few metres I stopped and listened, making sure I was heading in the direction of the noise. I was. The moans were getting louder, more frantic, but just when I was sure I was right on top of her, they stopped. What the hell? I shone the torch all around. The gum trees were bigger here, with peeling bark hanging down in sheets, and right in front of me I saw a pile of huge boulders, speckled with lichen and fuzzy green moss. At the base of the rocks, branches and twigs lay heaped on top of each other, as though someone had stacked them there. Was Andi somewhere under the pile? I shivered and couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

  ‘Andi?’ I whispered, picking my way toward the boulders.

  No response. I tried again, a little louder. ‘Andi?’

  A twig snapped behind me and all the fear I’d choked down returned, tenfold. I didn’t want to see what was back there, anticipating the Blair Witch, or some fucked-up demon from Evil Dead, but I whirled around anyhow. I had no other choice.

  All my horror film nightmares came true on the spot. It was Holly, a skitzed out look in her eye, holding an axe.