Fresh Blood

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Fresh Blood Page 7

by Calder Garret


  ‘Ah, fuck it,’ he said at last. ‘I think we should give it away.’

  ‘That suits me,’ said Nathan. ‘I’ve been thinking it’s a wild goose chase for a while now.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you say something?’ said Arbor.

  ‘Why should I?’ said Nathan. ‘It’s your party.’

  ‘So, we’ll head back then?’ said Arbor, still a little unsure.

  ‘Just lead the way.’

  They tossed their sticks.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Nathan. ‘Listen.’

  Arbor did as he was told. Gradually, he heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle.

  ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘How did you …?’

  ‘Shush,’ said Nathan. ‘In here.’

  They dived into the scrub at the foot of one of the gums.

  ‘It’s getting closer,’ said Arbor.

  ‘Yeah, I know that,’ said Nathan, waving him down.

  Arbor could tell by the growing engine knock that the vehicle was in ill repair. He peered over the bank of the creek. It was the Land Rover he’d seen at the Blairs.

  ‘Fuck, no,’ he said.

  The vehicle stopped, finally, within twenty metres of them. Gertie Blair and the younger of her two brothers alighted. They retrieved some beers, sat on the grass and began to drink.

  ‘Bugger it,’ Arbor said. ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Nathan whispered back. ‘I guess we keep quiet.’

  ‘Should we make a run for it?’ said Arbor.

  ‘You can please yourself,’ said Nathan. ‘But I’m not moving. This one might be the smaller of the two, but if he caught me, he could still snap me in half.’

  So they watched and waited. Finally, Gertie finished her beer and tossed her empty can into the scrub.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ whispered Arbor. ‘I think that’s them finished.’

  But then Gertie stood and faced her brother.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Arbor.

  Nathan waved him quiet. He held a finger to his lips and smiled. Arbor watched the Blairs again. Gertie started removing her shirt.

  ‘No … Never,’ said Arbor.

  ‘It’s no surprise to me,’ whispered Nathan. ‘I’ve been waiting for it.’

  They watched quietly as Gertie continued to disrobe. In moments, she had stripped herself bare. Then the brother stood. Brother and sister embraced.

  ‘Ah, you’ve got to be joking,’ said Arbor. ‘That’s wrong. It’s against the fucking law. It’s against God, for Christ’s sake.’

  Nathan fought back an audible laugh. He made a face.

  ‘Well, go on. Arrest them, Danny,’ he said. ‘Or haven’t you learned, yet, mate? The law doesn’t matter much around here.’

  Then the brother dropped his pants. Gertie fell to her knees.

  ‘No, fuck it!’ said Arbor. ‘That’s it. I’m out of here.’

  He charged away, heading back down the creek bed towards the quads. Within seconds, Nathan had passed him.

  ‘I told you,’ he said. ‘Legs like a chook.’

  After some distance, they stopped to catch their breath. They looked back. They were free of the Blairs. They started to laugh.

  ‘Thank Christ. I reckon I’ll need eye surgery after that,’ said Nathan. ‘I mean, brother and sister?’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ said Arbor. ‘We say nothing to Jenny, all right? I reckon she’d freak knowing she’s living next to that.’

  They laughed some more.

  They made lightning time back to the quads; there was no more searching to be done and the worst of the day’s heat was over. Still, on the way, Arbor managed to finish what remained of his own and Nathan’s water. He was glad, at last, when the quads rounded the last bend and the farmhouse came into view.

  ‘Any luck?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘Not really,’ said Arbor.

  ‘You’ve no idea,’ said Nathan, laughing. He got a look from Arbor.

  ‘I’ve made you something to eat,’ said Jenny. ‘It’s just a casserole, but … Well, you can like it or lump it.’

  ‘That sounds good to me,’ said Nathan.

  ‘It sounds great,’ said Arbor. ‘But, do you mind? Can I wash up a bit? I stink.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Jenny. ‘There’s a trough out back, if you like. I’ll get you a towel.’

  Arbor made his way through the house and out onto the back verandah. If you could call it that, thought Arbor. It was really just a makeshift laundry and a home for several items of rusting junk. He turned on the tap and drank deeply. Even the cold water was warm, he noted, the effect of shallow pipes and hot days. He peeled off his shirt, soaked it, doused his head and torso, and then rinsed the shirt again. He hung it over the frame of an old bike. He would let it dry for a moment, he decided, while he stretched his legs. It would still be wet, he knew, and he felt a little guilty about putting it back on, but it was better than returning to the house bare-chested.

  Damn it, he thought. It always hits you just when you’ve just washed your hands. He walked into the scrub and undid his fly.

  There’s something to be said for simple pleasures, he mused, as he relaxed, watching a healthy stream of urine burst free and dance across a sheet of rusted tin. Funny, he decided. It really does tinkle.

  Suddenly, the tin shifted and the piss bounced back at him.

  ‘Christ!’ he said, scrambling his cock away. His already wet trousers were now soaked.

  ‘Don’t move!’ he shouted. ‘Armed police!’

  Of course, he wasn’t armed. But, then, a fox or a snake wouldn’t care anyway. He had said it just to calm his nerves.

  Slowly, he edged closer. He grabbed the edge of the tin and lifted it, spinning it high into the air.

  To Arbor’s relief, what lay beneath wasn’t a fox or a snake. But it was something far more surprising, far more alarming. It was Amira Rashid. She was huddled and shivering. Her dress, such as it was, was badly ripped and soiled, her feet black and bloody. But, thankfully, she was very much alive.

  ‘Jenny! Nathan!’ Arbor shouted. ‘Get out here! Quick!’

  He reached down to comfort Amira, but she pulled away, curling deeper into her ball.

  Jenny and Nathan emerged from the house. Jenny pushed Arbor to one side.

  ‘She won’t …’ he said. ‘I couldn’t … She won’t move.’

  ‘Of course she won’t move,’ Jenny said. ‘She must be terrified of you. Get out of the way.’

  She sank to one knee.

  ‘Don’t worry, Amira, love,’ she said. ‘You’re safe, now.’

  ‘Nathan,’ she continued. ‘Get me some water. From the fridge. And there’s a blanket in the closet.’

  Nathan raced inside, arriving back with a jug of water and a white hospital blanket. Jenny poured some of the water over Amira’s lips, then used the hem of her skirt to wipe the grime from the girl’s face. She reached for the blanket, using it to cover Amira’s body.

  ‘You two, rack off,’ she barked. ‘Go on. It’s better that I handle this. Go and have your dinner … Oh, and Danny, draw her a bath. Not too hot.’

  ‘What? Are you sure? I …’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure. Yeah, I know. I watch all the cop shows, too. I know the drill. And I really don’t care. She needs a bath.’

  Arbor looked at Nathan. Nathan shrugged.

  ‘Don’t look at me, mate,’ he said. ‘I’m as clueless as you are. We’ll just do as we’re told, eh? Come on. Let’s check out this stew.’

  He headed towards the house.

  Arbor hesitated for a moment and then followed. He picked up his shirt and gave it a squeeze. It was still sopping, he noted. But never mind. They were all well past delicacies now. He slipped it on, wincing as the cold wet fabric hit his skin, and entered the house.

  Amira sat at the kitchen table, taking slow, steady spoonfuls from a large plastic bowl.

  ‘It’s a Milo milkshake,’ whispered Jenny, smiling. ‘My own recipe.
I put some honey in it. And some Coco Pops. If she doesn’t eat that, she won’t eat anything.’

  They were standing in the doorway, close enough to offer Amira some security, but far enough away to let her breathe. She was freshly bathed, wrapped like a child in a pair of Jenny’s PJs. But she was still shivering, Arbor noticed.

  ‘I tried her with some stew,’ Jenny added, ‘but she brought the whole lot up. I doubt she’s eaten anything in days, poor love.’

  ‘Has she said much?’ Arbor asked.

  ‘Not much,’ said Jenny. ‘She’s in shock, Danny. I think she might have been there. When her dad was killed.’

  ‘Hell.’

  ‘Hell doesn’t cut it.’

  ‘Has she …? Was she …? You know?’

  ‘No. They didn’t. I’m sure of that, at least.’

  Arbor breathed deeply. It was a relief. Of sorts. But it didn’t feel like one.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ asked Jenny.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Arbor. ‘I really don’t know. I know what I’m supposed to do. But … What I think is the right thing to do, they’re two different things. I just don’t want to take her into town. In to those city pricks. From what I’ve seen of them, I’ve a sense they’d be hard on her … Just for the fun of it, I reckon.’

  ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

  ‘But someone should talk to her. And pretty quick smart, too. To find out what she remembers. Before it’s all gone.’

  ‘Could you?’

  ‘I could try, I suppose.’

  ‘But I wouldn’t, Danny. Not tonight, anyway. Let her rest for a while, eh? Try tomorrow. She’ll be more settled tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, okay. But where can we—’

  ‘I don’t mind, Danny,’ said Jenny. ‘If that’s what you’re thinking. She’s welcome to stay here. I’ve a spare room. She can stay as long as you want her to. Just decide when the time’s right. It’s up to you.’

  It would mean his job if they ever found out, he could be sure of that, but, somehow, for the moment, he didn’t care.

  ‘Yeah, all right, then,’ he said. ‘Let’s give her tonight. I’ll get out tomorrow. Tomorrow sometime. Whenever I can. But, in the meantime … Look, you see if you can get through to her, eh? Maybe later? If you’ve a mind to, that is. See if she’ll open up.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Danny,’ said Jenny. ‘I’ll give it a try.’

  She touched his shoulder, nothing awkward or untoward, but rather warm and comforting.

  ‘It’ll be okay, Danny,’ she said. ‘You’re doing great.’

  He laughed, hardly encouraged.

  ‘You reckon?’ said Arbor.

  Doing great, he thought. It didn’t feel like it. And whatever lay ahead, he knew, however he chose to work it, he would need to tread lightly. Very, very lightly.

  ‘That’s some risk you’re taking there, Danny,’ said Nathan.

  They had nearly reached town. It was fully dark and Arbor could see the lights of the silo in the distance.

  ‘Yeah, well, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. That’s what they say, isn’t it?’

  Nathan laughed.

  ‘I didn’t think you had it in you.’

  ‘I can trust you, right?’ said Arbor. ‘To keep your mouth shut? I mean, I’m putting my arse on the line.’

  Nathan locked his mouth and threw away the key.

  ‘Like the Bank of Bendigo, Danny,’ he said. ‘And if you need any more help, just let me know. I can always use a few extra bucks.’

  ‘Yeah, well. Just don’t expect that every time,’ said Arbor. ‘Can I drop you somewhere?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Nathan. ‘The pub. Mandy gave me some of that money back. It’s been burning a hole in my pocket all day. You could use a few yourself, I reckon.’

  ‘No. I’m stuffed,’ said Arbor. ‘I reckon I’ll head for home.’

  He pulled onto Palm Street and drew up beside the hotel. Nathan alighted.

  ‘I’ll see you later, then,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. I’m sure,’ said Arbor.

  Nathan let out a laugh.

  ‘Jeez, you’re popular, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘It looks like today’s your lucky day.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ said Arbor.

  Nathan pointed.

  ‘Well, her. She’s one of yours, isn’t she?’

  By her, he meant Burke. She had stepped out from the shadow of the hotel verandah and was waving Arbor in. Her shirt was loose, her face flushed and her hair tossed. She might have been riding a roo, thought Arbor. Either that or she’d been on the sauce and was still looking for her ride.

  ‘Come and join us, Constable!’ she shouted, with a voice like a chainsaw.

  Christ, he thought. That’s all I bloody need.

  He could see Nathan’s impish grin as he disappeared around the corner. Nothing to be done, it seemed, but to confront her. He pulled alongside the detective. She leaned in, her breath like diesel.

  ‘No, I don’t think I’d better, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ said Burke. ‘Don’t be a wuss. Come on, Constable. Come and have a drink with me.’ She staggered away, leaned unsteadily against the wall and began to retch. He watched her, as the remnants of what appeared to be a chicken parmigiana hit the cement.

  Lovely, he thought. He would be damned if he was going inside with her. But, then, deep down, he knew. There would be hell to pay if he didn’t. So he got out of the paddy wagon and joined her. He watched as she wiped the last traces of sauce from her face.

  ‘Good on you, big fella,’ she said. ‘The night’s still young, eh?’

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and squeezed his arm, pulling him towards the lounge bar door. Her breath, Arbor noted, was now like road kill.

  ‘Don’t worry, Constable,’ she said, nuzzling closer, her free hand sliding deep inside his pocket. ‘I’ll take good care of you.’

  ‘I don’t know about you two,’ said Cole. ‘But I’m all for the sack. I’m just about ratted.’ He stood up, stretching for all he was worth. ‘This country air has really done me in.’

  They had been in the bar for over an hour and Arbor’s drink had hardly been touched. He had barely moved, acutely aware that, on one hand, Gertie Blair had been glaring at him from her stool at the bar, pretty much from the moment he’d arrived, and, on the other hand, Sergeant Burke had, every few minutes, been shifting her chair closer to him, boxing him in like a lost lamb.

  Gertie, her anger and her strange choice of sexual partners, Arbor decided, would all keep for another day. All he needed to do, for the moment, was avoid making eye contact. His bigger problem was Burke. The detective was not nearly as pissed as she had been, the hurl outside having done her some good, but she was in no way less dangerous. It was simple. The more he had tried to ignore her, the more brazen she had become. She was now running the side of her boot against his shin. And he felt powerless to stop her. There was no evading the woman.

  ‘So, Constable,’ she said, with a look. ‘How’s about you and me take this back to your place?’

  He saw Cole grin.

  Shit.

  She really wasn’t that bad, he had been telling himself. Really. Well worth a drunken fuck on a hot summer’s night. But not tonight. No, not tonight. On another night when he hadn’t seen her spew.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s getting pretty late.’

  ‘Need your beauty sleep, do you?’ she said.

  ‘I’ve got an early start,’ said Arbor.

  ‘Oh, stop it,’ she said. ‘I’ll write you a note. Go on. Go and get us some takeaways.’

  He did as she ordered. He didn’t know why. He got up and headed for the bar. He beckoned Rusty Piper away from his conversation with Gertie Blair. Neither seemed pleased. Gertie seemed to seek out his eyes this time. But they betrayed not an ounce of guilt over her adventure by the creek bed. Hadn’t she seen him there? Surely she had. But in thi
s present moment, all he got from her was scorn.

  ‘So what is it you’re drinking?’ he called to Burke.

  ‘Whatever,’ Burke replied. ‘You buy it, I’ll drink it.’

  Arbor put in an order. Burke rose and made a path towards the ladies’. Arbor felt Cole’s grin again.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Just take one for the team, son,’ said Cole. ‘Take one for the team.’

  ‘Leave the lights off,’ said Burke. ‘I like the moonlight.’

  The near-full moon was shining like a stadium floodlight through the double window at the front of the room.

  ‘I’ll put these in the fridge, shall I?’ she said, disappearing into the kitchen. She reappeared with two of the ciders and sat beside him. She sat with her legs apart, he noticed, like a man, her powerful thighs bulging through her pin-striped pants. He opened his stubby.

  ‘Nice place,’ she said, in her sharp city way. ‘I like your minimalist take on it. How long have you been here, Constable?’

  ‘Six … Nearly seven weeks.’

  ‘Jeez, you really are raw, aren’t you?’ She sucked on her own stubby like an oyster on a rock. ‘So how are you finding it? Police work?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s all right,’ said Arbor

  ‘But it’s not footy, is it?’

  ‘No, it’s not.’

  He could tell she was enjoying her role as inquisitor. The moon, bright and blinding, had become, for her, an interrogation tool.

  ‘So, do you have a girl here in town, Constable?’ she asked. ‘Some little chicky-babe? Some little netball miss who likes to play house?’

  ‘No.’

  She laughed.

  ‘I’m surprised,’ she said. ‘A good-looking bloke like you. God. You’re not gay, are you? Or Christian? Or saving yourself for marriage or some shit like that?’

  ‘No.’

  She laughed again, this time a little unkindly.

  ‘Yeah, well, thank God for that. You never know, do you? So, I was wondering …’

  She took her time.

  ‘Look, do something for me, will you?’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Arbor.

 

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