Strike Me Dead

by Bob Goodwin

  As he ambled up the footpath towards the surf club, a skinny dishevelled man approached from the opposite direction. The man reached out and grabbed at Claymore’s arm.

  ‘Father, please spare a few dollars for a hungry man,’ he begged. ‘I know the church likes to help the homeless and I haven’t eaten for three days.’

  The two stopped in the middle of the footpath. Passers-by looked on, some smiling and others giving them both a wide birth.

  ‘Come with me my good man,’ said Claymore politely, but firmly. The man tagged along as they made their way to a nearby takeaway. ‘Sit there,’ directed the priest. The man dropped onto a wooden bench as instructed.

  ‘Just a few dollars, Father. Thank you. I can tell you are a very kind and generous man.’ He put out his hand. A couple at a nearby curbside table put their hands to their noses then shifted upwind of the man.

  ‘Please wait. I’ll be right back.’

  After five minutes, Claymore returned with food. He placed it next to the man.’

  ‘Hamburger, chips with gravy and a Coke.’ He tipped his head. ‘Have a pleasant evening, my son.’ The man looked at the priest then at the food but said nothing. ‘And you’re welcome,’ continued the pretend priest as he walked away and crossed to the beachside of the road. It was no more than a minute later he could hear shouting and commotion coming from the takeaway. He looked back to see the skinny man arguing with the storekeeper and complaining about the food. There were other customers lined up waiting. The storekeeper took the least line of resistance and refunded the man the eleven dollars and ninety-five cents. Claymore sighed and turned back.

  The man stumbled along up the esplanade, bumping into people, grovelling for money and spinning out the same old tale. He had managed to collect a few more dollars from some who were no doubt just pleased to see the back of him. After ten minutes, he stopped near a narrow alleyway, plunged his hand into his pocket and looked around before disappearing into the narrow darkness.

  Rummaging through his various pockets he smiled with nervous excitement as he sifted through his latest collection.

  ‘Did you enjoy your burger?’ came a voice from the shadows. The man jumped and dropped some coins and two wristwatches.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Claymore moved forward into the half-light. ‘Oh, sorry Father. You startled me.’

  ‘I asked if you enjoyed the burger?’ he repeated.

  ‘Yes, very much. Many thanks.’ He crouched down looking for his possessions.

  ‘You are a liar. And not a particularly good one at that,’ said Claymore bluntly. The man laughed as he snatched up a couple of coins and the two watches.

  ‘Always a soft touch, you do-gooder cunts,’ he chortled as he found another coin. ‘Now fuck off!’

  Claymore removed his black cloth bag from his shoulder and carefully set it aside. Then he squatted down next to the offensive man.

  ‘Perhaps you should hand back the money. I can give it to someone more needy.’

  The man’s hand disappeared behind his back then came forward holding a long kitchen knife.

  ‘Fuck you priest! He waved the knife menacingly. Claymore’s hand shot out instantly and grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting the knife free in a second. His other hand shot up around his throat and he forced him back against the brick wall. Slowly he slid him up the brickwork until his kicking feet were clear of the ground. The smelly man made some low guttural sounds but was unable to speak. Claymore tilted his head to one side and studied the man’s dirty and unshaven face.

  ‘I would so much love to separate your putrid head from your neck; but unfortunately, you are not the chosen one. So I guess this is your lucky day. Instead I will just have to settle for caving in your skull and breaking both your legs. Because, quite clearly, the only rehab that’s going to work for you will be long-term physiotherapy.’ With that, he lowered him down then slammed his head hard against the wall. He let the limp body fall to the ground. He squatted once more and placed the floppy legs over the edge of the gutter. With a sharp jab from his right foot, he struck a knee that crunched and popped, then jumped down with both feet and shattered the other lower leg causing a significant flow of blood between protruding splinters of bone. Claymore collected his shoulder bag then knelt and helped himself to a new looking wristwatch, before moving casually out of the alley and back onto the esplanade.

  Once again, he crossed the road, walking between parked cars and gave a warm smile to a bald man sitting in a red Barina. He glanced at his new timepiece. It was precisely nine o’clock.

  Chapter 44

  Damnation

  The tight ropes around the tarp gave a clear outline of a hidden body beneath. The ropes were further secured to a rusty upright trolley. The trolley was being hauled up a steep incline. The fat inflated tyres bumped over a few low rocks, moving around low shrubs before crunching through fine blue road base rocks and eventually coming to a halt. Near the trolley were the two closed doors of a container with one word roughly painted in large black capital letters — DAMNATION.

  There was some slight movement under the green tarp followed by weak coughing and moaning.

  The ropes were loosened then removed. Two large hands shoved at the wrapped package, which toppled over and fell heavily to the ground. The moaning became louder. A large black boot kicked hard into the middle of the wrapped human parcel.

  ‘Shut up, Lawson! Plenty of time for you to thank me later. I may have just saved your life! No guarantees of course.’

  The levers on one of the container doors were lifted and pulled sideways; and with a creak and a long metallic groan, the door slowly opened. The sunlight stretched into the darkness revealing a dirty mattress then a pair of soiled skinny legs lying sideways and curled up. There was no movement.

  James Champion dragged and pushed the wrapped Graham Lawson through the doorway.

  Chapter 45

  Back from the Dead

  James had been sitting in Rae’s car staring at his apartment. The lights were still on and he had noticed shadows and curtain movement. He needed his medication, and he needed it without confrontation and another call to the cops. Rae had given him all she had, but once again his mind was being bombarded by distressing thoughts about the Chinese connection and severed heads. He felt sure there were no police lurking about; but regardless, he couldn’t wait much longer. As he opened the door of the Corolla, the apartment lights went out. He looked at his watch then closed the car door and waited.

  ‘Two minutes,’ he whispered to himself.

  Sure enough, almost to the second, the large garage door of the apartment block rolled up and out drove Carmel. James gave a final surveillance of the area. It was relatively quiet, as expected for a Sunday evening. The takeaway fish and chip shop was still open with a couple of customers. Five women in a walking group powered past the shops and a couple of unfamiliar vehicles cruised by. Casually, he made his way to the eighth floor.

  Once inside, he locked the apartment door behind him and began a quick check through the rooms, pausing for a moment at the bedroom curtains and studying the street below. There was a note on the dining table under an empty wineglass — James, please call me to let me know you are okay. You are due for review with Dr Jeffries on Monday at 11 am. Don’t forget.

  ‘Huh, a lot bloody sooner if you had your way, Mother.’ He left the note exactly as he had found it then collected his medication from his room. On the way to the bathroom, he pressed out a couple of tablets then downed them with a mouthful of water from the sink. After getting changed and stuffing his dirty clothes under his mattress, he was ready to go. He looked over the apartment. James nodded to himself, opened the door and turned to leave. He visibly shook and jumped back when he saw a smiling bald man standing at the doorway.

  ‘Hello James,’ said the young man. He wore shorts, a blue T-shirt with a slogan written on the front and gym shoes. Clearly, he was very fit.

&
nbsp; ‘This is not possible!’ declared James.

  ‘Seeing is believing.’ The man opened his arms, displaying himself, then spun around in a full circle. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘If you’re who I think you are, it’s extremely impressive. Weird and freaky, but impressive.’

  ‘Do you like my T-shirt?’ he glanced down at the yellow writing.

  HONESTY

  is the best policy

  ... but

  INSANITY

  is a better defence

  ‘Very much,’ James nodded. ‘It’s funny, but so very correct.’

  ‘Indeed, I knew you would like it.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Yeah, this is so cool.’

  ‘I am not one hundred percent clear on what is going on,’ replied James unsurely. ‘It is Timmy, right? Does Raelene know you are alive? That you’ve come back from the dead?’

  ‘You are the only person in the world who knows I am alive. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?’

  ‘Wow! Timmy! Unbelievable!’

  ‘It’s all okay. You can relax. You have already seen me around many times. The red Barina?’

  ‘Bloody hell, that’s you! We really need to talk, but we can’t do that here.’

  ‘Sure, I understand. Your mother could be home any minute. Let’s go down to your Corolla. There’s no cops about so don’t concern yourself about that.’

  * * *

  The two young men had been sitting in the Corolla talking for a quarter of an hour. Every couple of minutes, James would be shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘I have always liked you, James. You were always someone I felt I could talk to. I could say anything and no matter how crazy it sounded, you supported me. We both seemed to share a healthy paranoia of similar things. It was like we were almost connected in some way.’

  ‘And as we both know,’ said James, ‘just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that someone isn’t out to get you. I like calling it healthy paranoia. It could save your life!’

  ‘So now once again, here we are, on the same wavelength. I know what you’re up to. I share your beliefs. We both know what needs to be done and now you have me as your ally and secret weapon.’

  ‘You went out in the surf to the shark nets. You thought ASIO was using them for surveillance or something. Everyone believed you had drowned.’

  ‘Well, that was my plan all along. The shark net radar thing was of course just nonsense. Not to say that ASIO are not up to no good, because they clearly are. Monitoring phone calls, texts, emails, computer sites visited. They have devices installed in all the Telstra mobile towers,’ insisted Timmy.

  ‘I wasn’t aware of that and it’s not been anything I’ve been worried about, ’till now that is.’

  ‘Try this then. Get a second email address and start sending yourself emails with phrases like support the jihad; plane explosion techniques; bomb-making secrets or kill the politicians and see who comes knocking on your door.’

  ‘Sounds risky. I’d rather not try it.’

  ‘Being on this planet is risky. Best to be anonymous like me,’ added Timmy. ‘Anyway, this private detective, Hunter, he could be a problem. He has already been to number 72 Grasslands.’

  ‘I expected him to be in the area. But you know for sure he’s been there?’

  ‘I watched him. He left empty-handed, but you can be sure he’ll be back. I think a distraction is in order, hmmm...’ He looked up and pondered for a moment. ‘I have some thoughts on that, but right now we should find out what your mother and Raelene are talking about. Let’s drive, you can use your device when we get closer.’

  James shook his head for the umpteenth time.

  ‘Is there anything you don’t know, Timmy?’

  ‘Not too clued-up on the weather, but I believe you have that covered.’

  ‘I’m expecting a seriously strong storm tomorrow,’ replied James. ‘Maybe late afternoon or early evening.’

  ‘Yeah, a storm approaches. We will be ready.’

  The Corolla drove off.

  Chapter 46

  Drinking Buddies

  For the sixth time today, Rae left yet another message for James. The phone didn’t even ring but just went straight through to message bank.

  ‘James, I’m getting worried. Please call or text to let me know you are okay.’ She pushed the red button and placed the phone on the arm of the lounge chair.

  Raelene had taken a cab to and from the gym earlier in the day, not that she needed to be there on a Sunday, but what she did need was the workout and some time to think. Time to think about James and how the nature of their relationship had now changed forever; time to think about 72 Grasslands Road; and time to think and worry about what dangers her new lover was facing.

  Now the sun was setting and she had absolutely no idea what to do. She grabbed a bottle of Shiraz and poured herself a very full glass.

  Sherlock and Watson both lay stretched out on the couch and followed her with their eyes as she did laps through the lounge down the hallway and back into the lounge, all the while with glass in hand and every few laps doing a pirouette around the coffee table and changing direction.

  Twenty minutes had passed and her pace had progressively decreased to more of an unsteady plod rather than a walk; and after nearly a full glass of circuits, she dropped onto the single recliner, leaving the dogs undisturbed. She grabbed the remote, pressed a couple of buttons then sank back into the chair as Beethoven’s 5th began. With eyes closed, Rae downed the rest of the glass. She lay back, slowed her breathing and rolled her head slowly from side to side with the music.

  ‘James,’ she whispered. ‘James ... oh James.’ Slowly she moved the base of the empty wineglass against her tummy. The circles were slow and even as thoughts and images flashed through her mind. Her T-shirt inched upwards as the glass circled against the cotton until contact was made with her skin. With her other hand clasped around the first, the circular motion moved lower and the rotations became a little quicker.

  Then three things happened all at once. The doorbell chimed; the dogs barked and bolted to the door; and Rae sat up in fright, catapulting the wine glass onto the floor.

  ‘Holy shit!’ Up from the chair in a moment, she looked at the noisy dogs then at the wineglass on the carpet, which had snapped clean off from the stem. Beethoven was competing with the dogs. She stood there stunned for a moment as she gathered a degree of orientation before muting the Fifth Symphony and heading to the door.

  ‘Stop it, you two. That’s enough now.’ The barking eased a little. Rae opened the door.

  ‘Carmel!’ For a moment, they just looked at each other, both with half-smiles. ‘Just let me put these guys out back.’ Rae darted away, calling the dogs as she went. ‘Sherl, Watson — biscuits. Come on!’

  Carmel stood and looked into the lounge through the screen door. She noticed the glass on the floor and a half empty bottle on the coffee table. Rae returned.

  ‘So sorry. Now what’s happening? Some news about James?’

  ‘Do you think I could come in for a few minutes?’

  ‘Yes, yes of course. I’m not thinking.’ She unlocked and opened the security screen. ‘Please come in. I’m sorry. You must think I’m so rude.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Carmel entered. ‘Thank you, Rae.’ She looked around the room expectantly.

  ‘He’s not here,’ said Rae. ‘Please sit on the couch. Let me dust those cushions a bit. Damn dog hair.’ She banged them with her hand. ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘No need to be sorry about everything.’ Carmel sat on the edge of the couch. ‘You best pick up that glass.’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry ... I mean okay then.’ Rae picked up the two pieces and took them to the kitchen. She placed them on the bench then quickly splashed her face with water and dried off with a tea towel before returning.

  She stood in front of her guest, a little dumbfounded.

  ‘Has Jam
es been sleeping with you?’ asked Carmel frankly.

  ‘What? What are you suggesting?’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t at home last night. I thought he might have been sleeping over here.’

  ‘Oh, I see. A sleepover.’ Rae put a hand to her mouth. She could feel the warmth from her cheeks.

  ‘Why, is there something else I should know?’ continued Carmel. Rae sat back on the recliner.

  ‘Can I get you something to drink?’ she asked.

  ‘You need to fortify me before you answer? Well, yes. If you have a Chardonnay that would be lovely, thank you.’

  Back in the kitchen, Rae repeated her face-splashing before returning to the lounge with the Chardonnay and two glasses.

  Carmel watched quietly as Rae poured the wine, giving herself another red.

  ‘There you go,’ said Rae as she sat down partly sideways on the couch next to Carmel.

  ‘Very kind, thank you.’

  ‘Cheers!’

  ‘Cheers. To friends and family,’ said Carmel.

  ‘Friends and family.’ They chinked their glasses and drank.

  ‘Was that a Christmas present from James?’ Carmel looked up at the barometer mounted above them next to Timmy’s picture.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I have one on my wall. Exactly the same. A Christmas present too.’

  ‘Huh, maybe they were on special.’

  Rae’s phone chimed. She grabbed it immediately.

  ‘It’s James ... he says Everything is under control. Don’t worry. I’ll call you in the morning. Love, James. I’ll call him now.’ She pushed a couple of buttons and waited. ‘Straight to message bank. Damn!’

  ‘Well he sends you his love, that’s nice. Now dear, if you are in fact sleeping with my son it’s all fine with me,’ announced Carmel. ‘Not that you need my approval, of course and the age difference is also of no concern. I would simply be happy for him to be with someone who has their head screwed on straight.’

  ‘I’d rather not discuss it if you don’t mind.’ She took a generous mouthful of red. ‘Quite frankly, I’m not even sure myself what is going on. And yes, James was here yesterday. He left early in the evening. I’ve been trying to contact him all day. I’ve been worried. This is the first reply I’ve had.’