Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page i
PRAISE FOR PEEPSHOW ‘Stripping with irony, all bundled up into a ripping crime novel! I can’t wait for more.’ —Stiletto Magazine ‘With Peepshow, Redhead announces herself as the bright new kid on the crime block.’ —Sydney Morning Herald ‘Robust, good natured and enjoyable thriller.Who needs imports like Evanovich when there’s a Redhead in St Kilda?’ —The Age Review ‘Best new [crime] novel of the year . . .Witty, quite brilliant first novel.’ —Weekend Australian ‘A wonderful debut.’ —NW Magazine ‘Redhead has created a true original.’ —The Daily Examiner ‘Tarts with hearts are always winners.’ —Sunday Times
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page ii
LEIGH REDHEAD has worked on a prawn trawler and has been a masseuse, waitress, stripper and apprentice chef. Peepshow (2004) was her first book in the Simone Kirsch series.
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page iii
LEIGH
REDHEAD rubdown
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page iv
First published in 2005 Copyright © Leigh Redhead 2005 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act. Allen & Unwin 83 Alexander Street Crows Nest NSW 2065 Australia Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100 Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218 Email:
[email protected] Web: www.allenandunwin.com National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry: Redhead, Leigh, 1971– . Rubdown. ISBN 1 74114 553 8. 1.Women private investigators—Fiction. I. Title. A823.4 Set in 12/16pt Bembo by Asset Typesetting Pty Ltd Printed by Griffin Press, South Australia 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page v
To all the massage girls and working ladies. And the good clients.You know who you are.
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page vi
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 1
chapterone
I
walked up to the brothel and rang the bell, smoothed my hair and looked around. The South Melbourne industrial area was all converted cottages and boxy factories. A high machinery whine stabbed my ears and my nose twitched with the scent of freshly sawn pine and chemical solvents. The building was a double fronted, single storey terrace painted livid maroon and a sign in foot high letters told me I was standing outside the Good Times Club. As the mesh door opened I recalled the seventies TV show of the same name and half expected JJ to greet me with a buck toothed ‘Dyn-o-mite!’ ‘Help you?’ The autumn morning was cool and bright and it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the gloom within. The voice had come from a middle aged woman with frizzy red hair and thin eyebrows. 1
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 2
leighredhead
‘I was wondering if you had any work available?’ I asked. ‘Come on in.’ I stepped inside and she locked the screen behind me, crossed to a melamine reception desk and spoke into an intercom. ‘Boss won’t be long.’ The vinyl couch squeaked as I sat down. Penthouse Black Label magazines fanned out on a side table and the walls and carpet were the same purple-red as the exterior. A large photograph of a blonde draped over a Ferrari hung behind the desk. Classy stuff. I heard the swish of polyester slacks and turned to see a man enter the room. His beer gut forced his red polo shirt to pouch out and his mousy hair stood up in thinning tufts. As he got closer I saw his nose was bulbous and pockmarked, and guessed he was in his fifties. I stood up and shook his hand. The palm was sweaty. ‘Neville,’ he said. ‘I own the joint.’ ‘Vivien.’ It was my old stripping name and I answered to it more readily than Simone. ‘What sort of work you after, darl?’ ‘Dunno, what have you got?’ ‘Full service or massage.What you done before?’ ‘Neither.’ Neville and the woman exchanged a glance. He took a pack of Horizons from his pants pocket and shook one out. ‘Take her around, Marla, show her the rooms, tell her what’s involved.’ I followed Marla down a dim hallway and realised her enormous tracksuit-panted rump was out of proportion to her tiny upper body, then felt bad for noticing. A door with a number three painted on it was ajar and she led me inside. Marla said,‘Rule number one. If the door’s closed, don’t open it.’ I could understand the logic behind that. There was a double bed on one side of the room and a foldout massage table on the other. The bed was covered with a fitted sheet 2
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 3
rubdown
and two pink towels, pleated like napkins at a Chinese restaurant. A bedside table held home brand oil, baby powder, tissues and air freshener. A white shower unit had been moulded into the corner. I smelled damp carpet and that powdery stuff you sprinkle on the floor in the hope the room will smell like a ‘Country Garden’. Mirrors were stuck to the walls, along with framed black and white prints of big-boobed eighties gym bunnies in sweat bands and g-string leotards bearing the legends Sweat and Pumped up Down Under. Marla was looking at me expectantly so I said, ‘Nice.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, Neville’s recently spent quite a bit doing the place up.’ She leaned against the massage table and the joists squeaked in protest.‘How come you’re here if you’ve never worked before?’ ‘Curious, I s’pose. I’ve never been inside a place like this.’ ‘You a student?’ ‘How did you guess?’ I was wearing a miniskirt with black tights, knee high boots and a face full of makeup. So much for thinking I looked like a hooker. ‘We get lots of students, need money to study. What course you doing?’ ‘Um, arts.’ I sat on the sagging mattress, careful not to disturb the origami towels. ‘So, uh, what do the girls have to do?’ ‘Massage is full nude, bodyslide and hand relief. Up to you if you let them touch. Most ladies allow the boobs, outside the pussy. It’s sixty for the half hour, fifty-fifty split. Full service pays better, naturally.’ ‘That’s sex, right?’ ‘Uh-huh. Massage, French, then sex. Client pays one-eighty for the hour, a hundred for the half and we have a ten minute special for sixty.’ Thirty bucks a fuck. It wasn’t exactly Pretty Woman. 3
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 4
leighredhead
Marla went on: ‘Fantasies like schoolgirl and light B and D are an extra twenty and Greek’s fifty. It’s up to you if you do Greek.’ ‘And Greek is?’ ‘Anal.’ ‘Ouch.’ Back at reception Neville was smoking and drinking instant coffee out of a Garfield mug. ‘How’d you go?’ He forced a smile and crinkled his eyes up. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never done anything like—’ ‘Piece of piss.You’ve had a fuck before, haven’t you?’ ‘Well, yeah.’ ‘And I bet you’ve rooted jerks for nothing.Why not have sex with some nice gentlemen and get paid for what you were giving away for free?’ Gee, now you put it that way … ‘I’m just not sure I could go through with it.’ Neville slurped his coffee and smacked his lips. ‘What about massage then? Money’s not quite as good but all you got to do is a bit of a rub, bit of a tug. Hand shandy. Like shaking a Coke can up and down.’ I stared at the blonde on the wall getting jiggy with the sports car and chewed on a fingernail. ‘Can I talk to some of the other girls first?’ Neville frowned, sighed. ‘Yeah, okay. But don’t let them put you off. Like a bit of a whinge.’ Marla led me down a corridor on the other side of the building to the girls’ room. Six workers, aged from early twenties to late forties, lounged around on brown velour couches and shabby mismatched chairs. Mugs left wet rings on the smoked glass coffee table and Bert Newton delivered double entendres from an ancient, wooden framed TV. 4
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 5
rubdown
A blonde girl with a wide mouth and freckled, tip-tilted nose sat cross-legged on the floor in front of an age speckled mirror. She wore a white lace bra and pants set with a pink scarf knotted at the hip, and had her lips open, applying mascara. I casually shifted my handbag so the hidden video camera would get a better shot of her. Her name was Tamara Wade. I had found my target.
5
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 6
chaptertwo
T
he day before I’d been at a legal firm, Wade and Associates, sitting opposite high-profile criminal lawyer Emery Wade. I was there with my boss, Tony Torcasio, a stocky ex-cop who’d tutored me at the Australian Security Academy. Five months earlier I’d quit my career as a stripper and started working for him as an inquiry agent. ‘Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.’ Emery Wade looked like an actor playing a lawyer in a daytime soap. He was late fifties with a tennis tan and eyes the colour of Port Phillip Bay on a cold winter morning. The floor to ceiling window in his fifteenth floor chambers overlooked the Docklands’ shiny new towers, then the smoggy sprawl of shipyards and the western suburbs beyond. 6
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 7
rubdown
‘No problem, what can we do for you?’ Tony slouched back in the burgundy leather chair, ankle on opposite knee. He’d exchanged his usual Hawaiian shirt for a black suit and looked like he was on his way to a mafia funeral. ‘It’s my daughter Tamara. She’s gone off the rails.’ Wade leaned across his vast mahogany desk and handed Tony a newspaper clipping. I sat up straight, notebook in my lap, trying to figure out why I felt so uncomfortable. Was it my cheap chain store jacket? The daunting law volumes and framed certificates? The fact that I felt more at home in strip clubs or biker bars than glass and metal towers reeking of respectability? Maybe it was because Tony had introduced me as his associate and Wade only glanced at me once, a withering, dismissive look you might afford a cane toad that had been squashed on the road. Tony handed me the clipping and I recognised the section from the Sunday social pages. GUESS WHO? DON’T SUE! The daughter of which William Street lawyer and his blonde wife is raging way too hard. So much so she’s taken up a very interesting profession to pay for the party favours. ‘Tamara?’ I said. Emery Wade rubbed the silver at his temples and addressed Tony: ‘Who else would it be?’ I started thinking he really looked too distinguished to be true, and wondered if he painted in the grey hairs every morning. ‘What would you like the A1 Agency to do?’ Tony asked. ‘Follow her, find out if the rumours are true. My wife Susan and I would like to stage an intervention, get her into rehab. If we confront Tamara now she’ll deny everything so I want evidence, and lots of it. Proof of where she’s working, drug use. I want her followed around the clock.’ 7
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 8
leighredhead
I wanted to ask some questions but my mouth wouldn’t work. I wasn’t usually intimidated by men but right now I felt like I was back in year eight, dragged into the principal’s office for being drunk at the social, selling a joint on the bus or having my hands down Andrew Miller’s shorts behind the sports shed. Luckily Tony asked for me: ‘How old is Tamara?’ ‘Twenty.’ ‘She live at home?’ Wade shook his head. ‘Flat in East St Kilda.’ I scribbled on my notepad. Tamara Wade. Pill popping pro? Officially an adult. Old enough to do her own thing. Tony said, ‘We’ll need an address, photographs, car registration.’ Wade slid a buff manila folder across the desk. ‘It’ll be expensive. Around the clock surveillance will require myself, Ms Kirsch—’ Tony nodded in my direction—‘and another subcontractor.’ ‘Bugger the expense.’ Wade took a chequebook from the inside pocket of his pinstriped jacket. ‘Take cheques?’
I perched on an old armchair and torn vinyl nipped my thighs. The working girls gave me the once over. ‘I’m thinking of getting a job here but I’ve never worked before.What’s it like?’ I addressed the question to all of them but it was Tamara who replied. ‘Massage or sex?’ She swigged from a litre bottle of Coke, lit a cigarette and shook out the match. ‘I don’t know, what do you do?’ ‘Massage, it’s the best. They lie down, you stand up, you’re the boss and you only have to use your hand. Shit easy.’ She leaned 8
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 9
rubdown
back on her palms and a tall Islander girl with crimson lips pulled a chair over and started brushing Tamara’s shoulder length hair. ‘No it’s not,’ said a desiccated older blonde with a voice like sandpaper. ‘That fucking massaging’s hard yakka. Thirty bucks for the half hour versus fifty? And for your information I am always the boss when I’m in the room, even if I’m lying on me back.’ Tamara snorted and smoke plumed out her nostrils. I hoped I hadn’t started a fight. A fat lady, her tight pink dress revealing every stomach roll, guffawed and broke the tension. She put down the scarf she was knitting and nudged the older blonde in the ribs. ‘Only reason Taylor doesn’t massage is she’s too lazy to get off her back.’ ‘Piss off, Janine.’ Taylor smiled as she lit a cigarette. The Islander was styling Tamara’s hair into an up-do using bobby pins with small roses attached. ‘Maybe you should start with massage, love. Less likely to fuck with your head.’ From her low, rich voice I guessed she was, or used to be, a man. A sweet faced girl with a brunette bob waved her copy of Personal Investor magazine to clear the cigarette smoke. ‘You’d do well at massage. Marketable looks. Just make sure you set a financial goal, put aside a percentage of your earnings and quit when you’ve reached your target. I’m saving for an investment property and a blue chip share portfolio and then I’m out of here.’ Janine cackled again. Her boobs, more twin planets than breasts, threatened to spill from the hot-pink sheath.‘You’ll be back.’ ‘No I won’t.’ ‘I started in eighty-six,’ Janine told me. ‘Only going to work long enough to buy a secondhand car.’ Taylor nodded, ‘Ten years ago I needed money for Chrissie pressies for the kids. Thought I’d work two weeks but you get used to the cash, it’s addictive.’ 9
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 10
leighredhead
‘And impossible to save.’ The Islander blasted a mist of hairspray at Tamara’s head and I was amazed her ciggie didn’t cause the whole room to ignite.‘Sex industry money slips through your fingers like sand.’ ‘Not as long as you set goals,’ the brunette said. Taylor blew smoke toward the ceiling and ran a hand through her over-bleached crop. ‘I don’t want to leave anyway. I like the job. Before this I waitressed at the local club for fifteen years getting paid nothing, customers giving me crap all day. Someone pisses me off here I refuse to see ’em, plain and simple.’ I knew what she was on about. I’d never felt degraded taking my clothes off, but I sure as shit had while I was waitressing and working in retail. A news break interrupted ‘Good Morning Australia’. The latest bombing in Iraq then highlights from Sunday’s AFL match. Young men with bulging triceps leapt into the air reaching for the ball. I knew nothing about footy—pretty shameful for someone who’d lived in Melbourne for four years. A handsome blonde player squared up to the goals and Taylor pointed to the TV. ‘Hey, Tammy, isn’t that your brother Blaine?’ ‘Stepbrother,’ Tamara sighed, stubbing out her ciggie. That got my interest, but I didn’t say anything, just plucked at the threadbare brown carpet and checked out a poster of a black guy in a red Phantom suit. CondomMan says,‘Don’t be shame, be game!’ ‘He’s hot,’ Taylor rasped at the TV. ‘Get him in here and I’ll do him for free!’ ‘I’ll pay him!’ said Janine and all the girls laughed. The Islander fluttered her false lashes. ‘He’s worth it.’ ‘In your dreams, Lulu,’ said Taylor. ‘He’s going out with that singer chick. Used to be on the soapie, “Sassafras Street”. What’s her name? Valerie?’ 10
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 11
rubdown
I glanced at Tamara and saw she was rolling her eyes like it was all too boring for words. ‘Veronica,’ said Janine. And suddenly it came to me. Blaine Wade was Emery’s son and he and his equally famous fiancée Veronica were staples in the social pages and glossy magazines, Australia’s answer to Posh and Becks. Blaine was the clean-cut rising star of the AFL and Veronica was one of the new breed of ‘virginal’ pop stars who kept their clothes on in videos and claimed to attend church. Apart from their regular incomes they made a mint in endorsements. No wonder Emery Wade wanted Tamara locked up in rehab before a scandal broke out. I wondered why Wade hadn’t given us the whole story. Had he assumed we’d know who his son was? Marla’s voice crackled over the intercom: ‘Intro, ladies.’ They jumped up, primping hair and checking lipstick before filing into the hall. Tammy was back before the others. She grabbed her Coca-Cola and sat close to me in an orange plastic chair, eyes occasionally darting over my shoulder. I was glad the digital video made no sound. She smelled of vanilla body spray and her slightly buck teeth pushed her lip into a pout and gave her a sultry look. ‘If you’re serious about massage I know a great place to work. Do a couple of shifts there a week. Female management, sixtyforty split, good clients. It’s illegal but really discreet, members only so there’s no chance of getting busted.You interested?’ She swigged from the bottle. ‘Yeah.’ Tammy pulled a card from her bra. Plain white with black lettering that read Tollhurst Consultancy. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Told you it was discreet. Talk to Hannah and say Tammy recommended you. Don’t mention anything to Neville, he’d fucking kill me if he knew.’ 11
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 12
leighredhead
I slipped the card into my bag as the others entered the room, thanked them for their help and went back to reception where Taylor was leading a taxi driver through to the other side of the building. Neville was still leaning on the desk. ‘How’d you go, love? Hope the girls didn’t turn you off.’ ‘I’ll have to think about it.’ ‘Best not to think. Best to jump straight in.’ ‘I’ll call you,’ I said.
12
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 13
chapterthree
T
hat night I met my best friend Chloe for a drink and dinner at the Elwood Lounge on Glenhuntly Road, just a short walk from my flat on Broadway. It was a typically Melbourne bar slash restaurant full of mismatched furniture and attractive young hipsters. Swatches of gauzy cloth floated down from the ceiling and local artwork hung from stripped-back walls. Chloe had become a famous exotic dancer since she’d been kidnapped and I’d kind of rescued her. The publicity had led to magazine spreads, TV appearances and a stint hosting ‘Sin City’, a show about Melbourne’s seamy side. She’d even quit working for other people and opened her own agency called, aptly, Chloe’s. I found the little vixen at the back of the bar racking up balls on one of the two pool tables, a bottle of champagne and two glasses at the ready. 13
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 14
leighredhead
She ran up on spike heeled boots and gave me a hug. ‘Fuck, mate, how long’s it been?’ Success hadn’t changed her. She was still a short arse with a foul mouth. ‘Couple of weeks at least. How’s the agency?’ ‘Busy. I need more girls and a new driver. Start of the footy season and people keep getting married. Fucking idiots. Want to do a show Friday? You can be warm-up bitch for a buck’s. Onefifty and I won’t take any fees. ‘No thanks.’ I poured myself a glass of champagne. I could have used the money but was really trying to go straight. Flashing your gash didn’t enhance one’s reputation in the PI game and I’d promised Tony I’d given it away. ‘I bet you miss it.’ Chloe leaned over the pool table, lined up the white ball and broke. She wore tight black pants and a low cut top with ‘Bad Kitty’ in pink glitter on the front. Her long hair hung loose and had become blonder. How it managed to look healthy and not fall out was anybody’s guess. ‘Sure, sometimes I get pissed and strip in my lounge room, dancing to an invisible audience.’ It was true. Chloe laughed.‘Mate, you are one sad individual.’ She handed me the cue, sipped her champagne and lit a Winfield Blue. ‘How’s work?’ ‘Good because Tony’s finally letting me do stuff on my own. Bad because I feel terrible about a case we’re doing.’ She raised an eyebrow. I potted a small in the corner pocket and lined up my next shot. ‘We’re following this chick for her parents. They want proof of her working in massage joints and taking drugs.’ ‘What, smack?’ ‘She didn’t look like a junkie. Probably just E’s on the weekend. I mean, she’s twenty, making some money, having a bit 14
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 15
rubdown
of fun. Doesn’t even root the guys, for Christ’s sake. She’s not so different from us, and I’m sneaking around videoing her for her stuffed-shirt father and feeling like a supergrass.’ I missed the shot and handed the cue to Chloe. ‘I don’t know what to tell you, mate.You would have had to do worse stuff if you’d got into the cops.’ She was right. Before I started the PI course I’d been rejected by Victoria Police because of my dodgy work history. I’d been cut at the time, but eventually realised it was for the best. Chloe sank three balls in quick succession. Seriously misspent youth. ‘You’ll never guess what I got up to today,’ I said. ‘Finally got a root?’ ‘No, but I could have. Went for a job interview at the Good Times Club.’ ‘Get out!’ she squealed.‘That’s where old hookers get put out to pasture!’ The thirty or so young urban professionals in the bar turned and looked. ‘They’ve got a … handjob division too.’ ‘You ever given a handjob before?’ she asked. ‘Not to completion. I mean, what’s in it for me?’ Chloe shrugged. ‘A sticky hand.’
Tamara’s flat was on a rundown street off Inkerman where anaemic gum trees struggled through the cracked pavement and dry white dog turds littered the nature strip. Her block faced the road, two storeys of pale brick with concrete balconies running the length of the building, accessed by stairwells on either side. It had probably looked quite spiffy in the sixties, but now rust stains slithered down the white railings and four decades of traffic grime 15
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 16
leighredhead
smothered the walls. Some residents had tried to cheer up their entrances with potplants, plastic chairs and even the odd garden gnome. Not my target.When I trained my binoculars on her first floor flat I could see she hadn’t even sprung for a welcome mat. I’d taken over from Tony at four pm and followed Tamara from the Good Times Club to East St Kilda,hanging well back on account of my pale blue 1967 Ford Futura. Even without the zebra skin seat covers and dancing Elvis it was conspicuous as hell and Tony was going to lend me an anonymous white hatchback the next day. TV detectives never show you how mind numbingly boring the average stakeout is. I’d been watching the flat since five-thirty. It was now eight and my legs were cramping and my arse had lost all feeling. I clenched and released my butt cheeks, bobbing up and down to improve the blood flow. Didn’t work. The only excitement had been hanging a leak into a funnel, and a suspicious old lady knocking on my window. I’d seen her coming and had quickly rubbed my eyes till they were red and smeared with mascara, wound down the window and sobbed. ‘I’m not going back in there until he comes out and apologises. How could he do it with that slut? He’s such a bastard, but I really love him…’ She left me alone after that. Apart from the funnel business us female PIs really have it over the blokes, who often get mistaken for perverts or picked up on suspicion of kerb crawling. Even if someone suspects they’re being watched by an agent they never pick the chick. I glanced at my watch. Jesus. Five more hours until Dave took over the graveyard shift. For a supposed crack whore Tamara was pretty dull. Tony and I had formulated a vague plan that I would ‘coincidentally’ run into Tamara when she went out somewhere, befriend her, then try to score drugs. Course that wasn’t going to happen if she insisted on staying home to watch ‘The Bill’. 16
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 17
rubdown
Movement at the flats caught my eye. An old lady wrapped in a dressing gown left the ground level apartment directly under Tamara’s, climbed the stairwell, shuffled along the first floor balcony and knocked on her door. I sat up straight. ’Ello ’ello ’ello. There was no answer and the woman started banging and yelling. Neighbours emerged and clustered around Tamara’s flat. I slipped out of the Futura and sauntered down the street toward the building, smelling fried onions in the chill night air. I sat on a low brick wall in front of the units, hidden by a bank of letterboxes, and listened in. ‘No one’s answering.’ ‘My flat’s being flooded!’ ‘Call the agent. I’ve got the emergency number somewhere.’ My stomach fluttered as I conjured up possible scenarios. Tamara had left a tap on, slipped out and I hadn’t noticed? Impossible. Even when I was peeing into the funnel I’d kept my eyes on the flat, and earlier reconnaissance had shown there was no back door. Maybe she really was a junkie and had nodded off while running a bath. But wouldn’t all the banging snap her out of it? Not if she’d overdosed. I felt my face go hot then cold. A couple of minutes later a dark green Laser braked hard in front of me and a young man in a striped tie and rolled up shirtsleeves slammed the door and hurried along the concrete path to the flats, a big keychain jangling in his hand. The urge to know what was going on overrode concerns about blowing my cover and I jumped up and followed him, lurking out of sight in the stairwell as he tried different keys. ‘Hurry up,’ screeched dressing gown lady. The real estate agent fumbled with two keys before the third caught the lock and clicked it open. The lady shoved past him, pushed open the door and ran inside. He trailed after her. 17
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 18
leighredhead
Five seconds later my shoulders spasmed in shock as I heard a short, sharp scream. I didn’t think, just ran to Tamara’s, elbowing curious neighbours out of the way. The real estate agent was sitting on a tatty brown couch, head in his palms. Dressing gown lady was crawling along the hallway outside a closed door, panting like a dog, strings of saliva hanging from her mouth. As I approached the carpet became spongy and wet. I pulled my jumper down over my fingertips and reached for the handle. ‘Don’t,’ said the agent. But I did. The bathroom was covered in blood. Arterial sprays splattered the tiled walls as far up as the ceiling and the air was ripe with a metallic slaughterhouse tang. Tamara floated naked in the overflowing bath, face up on a sea of red. Bloody water bubbled up from the blocked drain hole and lapped at my feet. I saw her wrists had been slit deeply, lengthways, the puckered wounds exposing severed veins and tendons. Her dead eyes stared right at me.
18
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 19
chapterfour
T
amara’s funeral was seven days later at a church in Brighton. It had been a shit of a week. Questions from St Kilda CIU and interviews with the Homicide Squad, called in whenever a death is suspicious. Tony, Dave and I had to surrender client instructions, surveillance logs, still photos and video. We were about to be re-interviewed when the forensic pathologist in charge of the case ruled suicide. Tamara had taken a whole bunch of Temazepam, then slit her wrists. Her prints were on the packet and blade and no one else had been in the flat. End of story. The media wallowed in it like pigs in shit. Poor Little Rich Girl, From Private School to Prostitution. They faked sympathy while revelling in the salacious details. As I crunched through brittle leaves I saw them huddled across the road from the church. 19
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 20
leighredhead
Cameras, tripods, boom mikes. Not one gave a damn about poor dead Tamara, just the money shot of Veronica and Blaine. I slid on sunglasses and turned up the collar of my brown suede coat before entering the gates and hurrying up the steps to the old sandstone church. I’d had my photo in the paper after Chloe’s kidnapping and once was more than enough in an industry where anonymity was your greatest asset. Inside the double doors I looked for a place to sit. The pews on the left held family, footballers, entertainment types, journalists scribbling notes and a whole bunch of straight folks all dressed in black. A smattering of sex workers stood out in bold colours and shiny fabric on the right hand side and that’s where I sat down, in the last row next to the aisle for a fast getaway. Four pews in front I noticed a tall woman in a silver lamé dress with matching pillbox hat and veil. When she turned to swig from a half bottle of Wild Turkey I saw it was Lulu, the trannie from the Good Times Club, and she was crying. Rivulets of black mascara ran down her cheeks. My throat constricted and I looked away,right to the altar where white flowers draped a glossy mahogany coffin. Jesus. Hot welling joined the tight throat and I was glad of my sunglasses. I hadn’t been to a funeral in a long time.Why had I come to this one? I’d tried to work it out during the drive over. There was definitely guilt involved. For not realising she was suicidal. For sitting outside her flat like a stalker while she was in there slicing up her veins. In a small way she reminded me of me but probably the main reason was a selfish one. By coming to the funeral I might get some Oprah style ‘closure’ and stop seeing Tamara’s wide open eyes, burned on my retinas like I’d stared straight into the sun. A priest got up and did his thing.‘Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death’, a hymn and then Blaine Wade approached the lectern looking like he’d just stepped off the pages of GQ: black suit, broad shoulders, sun-kissed hair flopping 20
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 21
rubdown
onto high cheekbones. He cleared his throat and read from a series of index cards, telling the crowd how Emery married Susan and adopted two year old Tamara. That he was born a year later and couldn’t have asked for a better older sister … until… ‘She was fourteen when the trouble started. Typical teenage stuff, I guess. Staying out late, sneaking cigarettes, arguing with Mum and Dad. Then came the drinking, and later, the drugs.’ He shuffled cards and his voice cracked. ‘I … I should have reached out to her but I was so into my sport then, training morning and night.When she was sixteen she ran away and moved in with an older friend. Eventually, like so many others, she drifted into prostitution and drugs…’ God, he made her sound like a smacked out street whore when I suspected it was just handjobs and eccies. ‘Although Tamara had fallen by the wayside she deserved our compassion, not our condemnation, and so do all the other girls caught up in that nightmare world. Because if it happened to my sister it can happen to anyone.’ Blaine was crying now, but my eyes were definitely dry. Nightmare world? Puh-leese. Then it got worse. ‘Veronica and I refuse to let Tamara’s death be in vain so we’ve set up the Tamara Wade Foundation. A charity to get girls out of the sex industry and off drugs by providing rehabilitation, education and sporting programs to help them reach their true potential and be the best they can be.’ He was smiling now, sad but hopeful. ‘To kickstart the foundation we’ve pitched in twenty thousand of our own money and Veronica has recorded a ballad, “Tamara’s Song”. A dollar from every copy sold will go to the foundation. Veronica, come up here, honey.’ Veronica walked up to the altar like she was walking onto a stage. She was thinner than she looked on TV and appeared to be composed entirely of different shades of caramel, from her tawny skin to her hair to her eyes. Her flowing black dress managed to 21
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 22
leighredhead
be both groovy and virginal and would have left no change from two grand. The priest handed her a microphone and sad piano music seeped from hidden speakers. Veronica began to sing, swaying and swishing her hair around, not in a slutty, Christina Aguilera way, but all soulful and churchy. The song was shithouse, in the same vein as ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ but with lyrics about broken dolls and street kids. When she hit the high notes I feared the stained glass windows would shatter and impale us all with deadly shards. Soon as she stopped warbling the entire left side of the church jumped to their feet and clapped. The sex workers remained seated, arms crossed. When the applause finally died down Lulu slurred loudly,‘Tammy would have hated that. She liked Limp Bizkit.’
I was leaning against a rough stone wall in the churchyard hiding behind my sunglasses and smoking a cigarette when pallbearers slid the coffin into a waiting hearse. I’d promised myself not to smoke unless I drank but felt sure alcohol was only moments away. The sun was doing its typical Melbourne thing, ducking in and out of clouds as mourners spilled down the church steps onto a gravel driveway. Emery, an anaemic blonde who had to be his wife Susan, Blaine and Veronica arranged themselves into a receiving line and people in expensive black ebbed around them, complimenting Veronica on her beautiful voice. A motley band of working ladies, nightclubbers and trannies congregated under an oak tree and sparked up durries, debating the whereabouts of the nearest pub. From where I stood Susan Wade didn’t look so good: pale and sweaty with eyeballs darting all over the place. I wasn’t surprised 22
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 23
rubdown
when her knees sagged and she lurched against her husband. Emery caught her around the waist and nodded towards a short, barrelly guy hanging around the edge of the family. He wore cowboy boots and a curly mullet and the two of them helped Susan into a waiting black Mercedes. Soon as they were gone Lulu broke away from the oak tree posse, swigged the last of the Wild Turkey and chucked the empty bottle over her shoulder into a shrub. She weaved her way over to Blaine and Veronica and stood in front of them, swaying on her heels. ‘Darlings, so happy to hear about your engagement,’ she said, and spread her arms as though to gather them both in a group hug. Blaine blushed, looked down and kicked a small stone. Veronica’s gracious smile froze on her face. She looked around for help and the guy with the mullet trotted back from the car on his miniature feet, inserting himself between the celebrities and six foot trannie like an overprotective pitbull. Too short for security, I wondered if he were their publicist, desperate to keep his charges from being photographed next to a chick with a dick. The photographers, sensing trouble, inched into the driveway. Lulu kept coming. Mullet guy pushed her back and told Blaine and Veronica to get in the car. The cameras moved like a multi-headed hydra. Flashes, electronic clicks. Veronica grabbed Blaine and dragged him towards the Mercedes. Lulu lunged to stop them and mullet shoved her in the chest. She stumbled, recovered and slapped him on the face. He roared and charged her in a rugby tackle, grabbing her waist and slamming her onto the gravel where they rolled around punching and grabbing. Everyone froze except the photographers, who crowded around, madly snapping off shots. Jesus. I ground my cigarette under the heel of my boot, ran over and pushed through the throng. I don’t like men hitting 23
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 24
leighredhead
women, no matter if they’re the kind with an Adam’s apple and three day growth. I tugged on mullet’s shoulder. ‘Hey, get off her.’ A woman in purple crushed velvet appeared at my side and took hold of his other arm. Together we dragged him away and Lulu picked herself off the ground. ‘Fuckin’ freak,’ he spat. Lulu brushed gravel off her dress and raised one perfectly arched brow. ‘At least I’m not a washed up one hit wonder.’ We strained to hold him back as Taylor and Janine raced over and bustled Lulu out. ‘Come on, love.We’ll get you home.’ Mullet pulled himself free, smoothed down his jacket and stalked off. I turned to the woman who had helped me. She was mid thirties with curly auburn hair and a heart shaped face. ‘Who was that?’ I asked. ‘Billy Chevelle, seventies pop star.’ She brushed hair from her mouth, pulled a Ginger Nektar out of her big patchwork bag and offered me a sip. I took it. Grappling a mullet guy was thirsty work. ‘He’s Veronica and Blaine’s manager.’ I held out my hand. ‘Simone.’ ‘I know.’ She shook it. ‘I’m Hannah. You’re the PI got my relaxation centre closed down.’
24
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 25
chapterfive
‘S
ay what?’ I said. ‘Homicide paid me a visit after you gave them my card.Wasn’t a raid, just wanted to know about Tammy but under the circumstances I thought it best to close up shop and move.’ ‘Jeez.’ I shrugged. ‘Sorry.’ She tipped her head to the side and rubbed my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not. Stressing only gives you cancer. You’ve just got to go with the flow.’ Uh-huh. I said, ‘I wouldn’t have picked you for an illegal brothel owner.’ ‘And what’s an illegal brothel owner supposed to look like?’ She had me there so I changed the subject. ‘What did you think of the funeral?’ ‘Tammy and I had our differences but she didn’t deserve 25
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 26
leighredhead
that. That was completely fucking offensive. Listen, can I have a card?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Never know. Might need your services.’ I shrugged as I handed it over. People always said that when they found out I was an inquiry agent. No one ever followed through. One of the photographers approached, face hidden behind an oversized lens. ‘Hey, ladies, wanna be in the newspaper?’ Hannah spun around and marched off, curls bouncing. ‘Come on.’ He turned to me. ‘Everyone wants to be in—’ He lowered the camera and stared. I stared back. I couldn’t believe it. It was Curtis Malone. Curtis was a perpetually dishevelled reporter for Picture magazine who covered important stories like jelly wrestling and topless car washes and scouted for girls to appear in ‘glamour’shoots.I’d met him at the Miss Striptease finals while investigating the Parisi murder. ‘Why’s Picture covering a funeral? Nobody got their jugs out.’ ‘I’m not working for Picture anymore. Well, the occasional article. I’ve moved to Melbourne and gone freelance.’ ‘But you loved Picture.You said it was better than working for the broadsheets.You got to make up words.’ Curtis fiddled with the lens cap and tucked the camera into a padded bag. ‘I know, but it was turning me off the female form. I became desensitised to funbags, completely sick of spadger. Seriously. I’m dead from the waist down and I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.’ He pulled a Peter Jackson from the pocket of his flannelette shirt. ‘Investigative journalism’s my new gig, specialising in true crime.’ ‘Why Melbourne? Surely there’s more crime in Sydney?’ ‘Are you kidding? Drive-by shootings, ethnic drug gangs. Dullsville. Here you’ve got crime bosses gunning each other 26
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 27
rubdown
down on the street. It’s like Chicago in the twenties.’ He grinned and sucked hard on his cigarette. I rolled my eyes, then looked around. Everyone else had left. ‘Listen,’ he said,‘my savings are running low and I really need a story.You on the case?’ He spoke with the ciggie in his mouth as he crouched down, rooting around in his backpack, finally coming up with a notebook and pen. ‘No! There is no case. It was a suicide.’ ‘Word on the street says you were watching Tamara Wade when she topped herself. Care to comment?’ ‘No.’ Curtis dropped the butt and flattened it with a Dunlop Volley. He crossed his arms, trying for tough guy, but ending up with whiny kid brother.‘Hey, you owe me from when I helped you last year. You swore you’d pose for Premium in a lesbian shoot with your friend.’ I’d lied. ‘Yeah, well, you got Chloe.’ ‘But I’d promised my editor the two of you. Look, all I’m asking for is a little information from time to time.You scratch my back, I scratch yours. I’m telling you, I’ve got my finger on the pulse in this town.’ He handed me his card. I really didn’t want to get involved with Curtis Malone, mostly because of his overuse of clichés, but Tony always told me I needed to expand my sources and even a hack like him could prove useful. Not wanting Curtis to contact the office I gave him an old stripping card with my mobile number. There I was in a spangled red bikini. From mild to wild, for all your adult entertainment needs. A thought occurred to me. ‘If you need money, Chloe’s looking for a driver.’ He nodded and checked out the card.‘You know, I could still organise that lesbo shoot.’ ‘Save it,’ I said. 27
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 28
leighredhead
I felt better the next morning. Going to the funeral had been a good call, despite the fight and the crappy song. Afterwards I’d spent a quiet afternoon at home watching Elvis and Anne Margaret in Viva Las Vegas, then whipped up a healthy chicken stirfry and drank only three glasses of wine. Finally, an alcohol free day. I jogged up to the gym and did half an hour on the treadie and spent the rest of the time lifting free weights and working on my abs. All the while I was thinking positive thoughts like ‘death is there to make us appreciate life’ and ‘Tony will have a big job for me next week so I won’t need to pay rent with the credit card’. After the gym I popped into the solarium. It was a bad habit left over from my stripping days, but I figured I’d spent adolescence pasty, white and grumpy so I still had a couple of years of brownness up my sleeve. The worst thing about sunbeds, apart from the skin cancer, was the way those warm UV rays caressed your skin and you imagined yourself lying on some tropical beach with a gorgeous tattooed guitar player rubbing Reef Tan into your inner thighs. One with an incredibly hot body and large cock, who also happened to be amazingly skilled with both his fingers and his tongue… I was still thinking about sex as I walked down Glenhuntly Road towards home. It had been four months since I’d got laid. A gorgeous tattooed guitar player so good at sex he’d ruined me for other men by the time he left town. Masturbation just wasn’t cutting it anymore, but I refused to get depressed, not today with the sun shining and the temperature a balmy seventeen degrees. Instead I wondered if it was possible to harness that pent-up sexual energy and somehow use it for good instead of evil. Back home I lit Nag Champa incense, put The Jackson Five on the stereo and danced around cleaning up and watering herbs 28
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 29
rubdown
on the balcony. I loved my flat. It was a one bedroom on the first floor of a brick block and had off-white walls and tacky carpet. The furnishings in the combined lounge/dining were testament to my complete lack of personal style. An overstuffed maroon forties couch was teamed with an Ikea wall unit and a bookshelf made of bricks and boards. Posters of country bands and Russ Meyer films adorned the walls. My teen dreams of minimalist white interiors had been shot to hell. Best thing about the place was the wall sized mirror on the built-in wardrobe opposite my bed. Thinking about it gave me another surge of sexual energy that I decided to channel into a vigorous vacuuming session. As I struggled to disentangle the Hoover from the hall closet my mobile rang. It was Hannah, the unlikely brothel owner. ‘I’ve got some work for you.’ ‘Serious?’ She gave me an address in Malvern. ‘Meet me in an hour.’
The house was off Tooronga Road, a neat wooden cottage painted duck-egg blue and hidden behind a high white picket fence. I let myself in the gate and walked through a garden of native shrubs, climbed the steps and rang the bell. Hannah answered wearing a flowing Indian skirt and no shoes, long curls hanging loose. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said softly and hugged me. Hippies.We’d only met the day before. ‘Why are we whispering?’ I murmured. She pointed to the closed doors on either side of the hallway. ‘Got two massages going on.’ ‘This is your new brothel?’ ‘Relaxation centre, hon.’ 29
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 30
leighredhead
The lounge room had been done up like the waiting room at an upmarket naturopath. New couches with fuzzy throw rugs, an Indian wall hanging and a side table full of National Geographic and Simply Living magazines. The sweet smell of ylang ylang drifted up from an oil burner and Bose speakers piped soft music, the sort of ambient chill-out CD favoured by clubbers coming down off E. Not quite what I’d expected. If you believed the papers, illegal brothels were syringe littered dumps with stained mattresses and fourteen year old hookers rutting without condoms. ‘So what’s the job?’ ‘It’s not me wants to hire you, but a client of mine. He’s waiting out the back.’ I raised my eyebrows and followed her through a country style kitchen onto a wooden deck. A squat old man in a brown suit struggled up from a canvas director’s chair. He didn’t look a day under eighty, but had a scalp full of thick silver hair slicked back from his forehead. I tried not to reflect on the ridiculousness of hanging around illegal brothels scabbing jobs off somebody’s granddad, smiled graciously and held out my hand. ‘Simone, this is Vincent Pirelli. Vincent, Simone Kirsch.’ Close up he smelled of pine needles and Brylcreem. We sat down and Vincent picked his hat off the wrought iron table and fiddled with the brim. The back yard was small and paved. Grevilleas with cylindrical red flower heads lined the fence and bottle green towels hanging from a retractable clothes line, rippled in the breeze. Hannah offered me a coffee but I shook my head. I’d had a plunger full before the gym. Any more and I might’ve busted a valve. ‘So, Vincent. How can I help you?’ He cleared his throat and spoke with a thick Italian accent. ‘I want you to find out who killed my Tammy.’ 30
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 31
chaptersix
‘T
amara’s death was a suicide. If you think it wasn’t you should go to the police.’ ‘No police.’ Hannah reached across the table and rubbed Vincent’s gnarled brown hand. ‘His wife passed away five years ago, but he has children and grandchildren. He doesn’t want any scandal.’ ‘That may be so, but I’m an inquiry agent, not a homicide detective. I don’t wear a trenchcoat, carry a gun or solve murders. Sorry.’ ‘But you have.’ Hannah pulled a folded A4 sheet from her skirt pocket and smoothed it out on the table.‘I got this off the internet.’ It was a Herald Sun piece about Chloe’s kidnapping and Frank Parisi’s murder. Mostly bullshit since the real truth hadn’t come out in the press. 31
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 32
leighredhead
‘That was different, nothing to do with my usual inquiry work.’ ‘I have information.’ Vincent pronounced each syllable separately and shuffled his chair forward, fixing me with a watery, red rimmed stare.‘I see Tammy for two year. First at Good Time, then Hannah’s. I am lonely after my wife passed and I don’t want to go to brothel like most men. No point, I have operation on my…’ He waved toward his crotch. ‘Prostate,’ Hannah offered. ‘Now, nothing come out. I see Tammy for little bit of kiss, little bit of cuddle. Mostly talk.’ ‘Uh-huh.’ I tried to keep my face pleasant. An image of Vincent’s ancient penis had just popped into my head. ‘Tammy was good girl, but she have many troubles. Family troubles. Troubles with Neville Annis from Good Times. She owe money to Craig Annis.’ ‘Who?’ ‘Deals in the drugs. Sell for his uncle Neville. I know Neville from many years ago. He is smart man, but he very bad man.’ Neville hadn’t struck me as particularly smart or bad when I’d met him. ‘Hang on, why would Neville kill her? If she owed him and his nephew money surely it would be better to keep her alive and working so she could pay it off.’ ‘Tammy know things he doing.’ ‘What things?’ Vincent shrugged, ‘I no know for sure.’ And he never would. Hannah read the look on my face and leaned in. I crossed my arms so she couldn’t rub my hand. ‘Vincent loved Tammy. They had a real connection. He just thinks the police were too quick to label her death a suicide and he’d like to hire you for two weeks to look into it. If you find anything you can take it to the police without mentioning his name. If you don’t, he’ll be satisfied knowing he did what he could. 32
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 33
rubdown
I get a good vibe from you.You’re not the type to rip off an old man.’ ‘Yeah, but—’ ‘He’s prepared to pay you four thousand dollars. Cash.’ They studied my face. Large amounts of money have always excited me but I played it cool. ‘I can’t legally investigate a murder.’ ‘But you can follow people around and ask questions. Surely there’s some way to phrase it in the contract so you’re not breaking the law?’ Surely there was. ‘I’ll have to talk to my boss, Tony.’ Vincent shook his head so vigorously a slice of silver hair came loose. Hannah said, ‘Tony Torcasio’s a friend of the family. Vincent only wants to deal with you. You just subcontract for the A1 Agency, right? There’s nothing to stop you taking on a case on your own.’ ‘No, but Neville and Craig sound like pretty heavy dudes. I’m a female working alone, so don’t expect me to jump in undercover or anything.’ ‘Of course not,’ Hannah said.‘Just a little quiet digging around is all he wants.’ A small brown bird sucked nectar from a grevillea flower. Vincent pulled a chunky yellow envelope from his jacket pocket and pressed it into my hand. ‘Four thousand. For two week.You find nothing, no matter. At least we try. I am old man. I miss her. I try to help when she alive, now, also, when she dead.’ His rheumy eyes filled with tears and under the sharp Nordic scent of his aftershave I picked up a musty smell, like the beginnings of decay.
33
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 34
leighredhead
At home I spread the four grand on my chipped timber dining table. I’d never had so much dosh in my hot little hands. Stripping money, although good at times, had tended to come in dribs and drabs and was pretty much spent before I’d earned it. Part of me felt bad accepting Vincent’s money when it was obvious he was grieving and couldn’t accept that his favourite massage girl had taken her own life. The other part, who had already spent the money on a computer, digital camera and deposit for a less conspicuous car, worked hard to justify the decision. Vincent wanted to give me the money. He had to feel like he’d done everything for Tamara.Was I going to stand in the way of what was possibly an old man’s dying wish? Hell no. I poured myself a glass of Colombard chardonnay from the two litre cask, took it onto the balcony with a cigarette and scribbled down notes about they way I’d approach the case. I’d already arranged to meet Hannah in a couple of days. She was going to talk to her girls and see if they knew what was going on with Tammy. One in particular, Lauren, had partied with her a lot. Usually you’d talk to the family, but I didn’t think they’d know much about Tamara’s recent life. Besides, rich folks never liked you poking around in their business and since Emery was a big shot lawyer I felt certain he could sue me thirty different ways before morning tea. I would contact Lulu, the trannie, and do a search on Neville and Craig using the internet and newspaper archives at the State Library. I finished the wine and planted my cigarette butt in a potted palm. The sky was purple. It was mid April and getting dark earlier now. Pretty soon the deciduous trees lining Broadway would be skeletal and my electricity bills huge. You know, what I really needed to kickstart this case was the sort of background check only a cop could do. I knew a cop. I used my mobile to call Alex Christakos. 34
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 35
rubdown
‘Simone, great to hear from you. How long’s it been?’ I’d forgotten his smooth, deep voice. ‘Months. How’s the shoulder?’ He’d been shot last December. It had kind of been my fault. ‘Not bad. Still going to physio. Been back at work for a while but desk duties shit me up the wall.’ In the background bottles clinked and conversation echoed off wooden surfaces. ‘I need some information.’ Alex groaned.‘You know I can’t do that. Fuck’s sake. I’m ESD.’ Ethical Standards. ‘How about a drink then?’ I wasn’t going to give up that easily. ‘Sure, me and the others are at the Waterside. Corner of Flinders and King. Come along, it’ll be good to see you.’ Good to see you. It was nice to be wanted. Gave me a buzz.
35
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 36
chapterseven
T
he Waterside was an old pub beneath the Flinders Street overpass, nestled between Top of the Town brothel and the strip clubs on King. I couldn’t imagine what Alex was doing there. Sure, his department was just down the road in the World Trade Centre complex, but he was the sort of guy who felt at home in expensive restaurants and trendy bars. The one time I’d set foot in the Waterside the grime and pissy smell had conjured up a hundred years of drunken sailors carousing with assorted cutthroats and blowsy syphilitic whores. Not anymore. I pushed through the door into a slick modern bar, top shelf booze gleaming under downlights. The floor was polished wood and the walls were painted matt in colours the designer probably called Mocha and Suede.Well dressed office workers lounged on low couches and red leather banquettes, drinking 36
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 37
rubdown
cocktails and boutique beers. I spotted the Ds at a cluster of high tables with chrome bar stools, over by a big screen TV showing a football replay. My heart sank when I noticed a rabbitty blonde officer named Suzy McCullers. She was still going out with Alex. Didn’t mean I couldn’t flirt, I’d just have to tone it down a peg to avoid a bitchfight. I was good at flirting. Saw it as a sport, like tennis or netball. Got the heart rate up and was mostly good for your health. They all looked pretty pissed so to catch up I ordered a Jameson’s and a champagne from a perky young thing in a black t-shirt. Fifteen dollars later I’d slammed down the whisky, taken a deep breath and sauntered over, champers in hand. ‘Hi, Alex. Hi, Suzy.’ ‘Simone.’ Alex put an arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. His expensive, woody aftershave flashed me back to last year. The lap dance where I’d broken the rules and given him a hard-on. Drunk in an alley, stealing the notebook from his pants pocket while he was busy with his hand up my dress. Those were the days. Suzy gave me a small wave and a tight smile. ‘You’re looking good,’ Alex said. I’d certainly made an effort. Black leather pants, a low cut top in emerald green and my brown suede coat that swished around my ankles. I’d run a straightening iron through my hair and had worked hard on the makeup in an effort to feign natural beauty. The things a girl has to do to get a bit of information. Alex wasn’t looking so bad himself. Eyes like melted chocolate, black hair slicked back and just a hint of five o’ clock shadow. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his navy blue shirt to expose well developed forearms with prominent veins. My eyes followed one from his wrist to the crook of his elbow. Chloe was right. I needed a root. 37
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 38
leighredhead
Alex introduced me and the other plain-clothes coppers looked me up and down. ‘If it isn’t the stripping detective,’ said a fat guy with a combover. I smiled like it didn’t bother me. ‘Just detective,’ Alex leapt to my defence.‘Simone works with Torcasio. She doesn’t dance anymore.’ Fat guy said, ‘Should have stuck to stripping, darlin’. Leave catching crooks to us.’ Suzy laughed, a bit too loudly, and spilled scotch on her skirt. I kept smiling. The other cops went back to watching the game. Suzy did too, but her head was cocked, listening in on Alex and me at the next table. ‘So what important case you working on now? Missing dog? Wife screwing the milkman?’ He smirked and sipped whisky. I lowered my voice. ‘I wish it were that simple. I’m looking into the circumstances surrounding Tamara Wade’s death.’ ‘Gimme a break. Torcasio wouldn’t take someone’s money when it’s been ruled suicide.’ ‘Tony doesn’t know. A friend of Tamara’s hired me. Thinks she was murdered.’ ‘And let me guess, you’re going to stand on street corners and try to pick up the killer.’ I was a little offended, but tried not to let it show. ‘She was an erotic masseuse, not a street hooker. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And the friend thinks it had something to do with Neville Annis, who runs Good Times, and his nephew Craig.’ A vertical line appeared between Alex’s eyebrows.‘Fuck’s sake, Simone. Do you know who Annis is?’ ‘A very bad man?’ I quoted Vincent. ‘Career criminal who’s been involved in importing and 38
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 39
rubdown
manufacturing narcotics. Rumoured to have knocked off anyone who got in his way.’ ‘Wait a sec,’ I said. ‘If you’re a crim you can’t legally own a brothel. They do a background check.’ ‘Yeah, but Annis has never been caught. He’s good. Drug Squad thought they had him a couple of years ago. Lab up near Shepparton manufacturing E’s and speed. His chemist turned informer, but the case got put on hold indefinitely when half the squad turned out bent. Now no one knows where the chemist is.’ ‘Dead?’ Alex shrugged.‘He was going to go into witness protection but reckoned the cops’d leak his whereabouts to Annis.Look,I shouldn’t have even told you this much but I’m doing it for your own protection.You really shouldn’t be following this bastard around.’ He touched my shoulder and Suzy’s eyes flickered towards us. I leaned forward on the table, acting innocent yet perfectly aware that this would give Alex a very good view down my top. ‘If you could get me Neville’s file I wouldn’t have to.’ His voice turned cold. ‘That’s corruption.’ ‘I know.’ I backpedalled. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m going to be really careful and do most of my investigating at the library. There’s nothing to the case anyway. I was there, no one went in or out of the flat. My report’s going to say there’s nothing to suggest murder.Want another drink?’ Alex asked for a Jameson’s and I smiled. Before we’d met he’d drank scotch, not Irish whisky. I got us both doubles and we talked about the physio he was getting on his shoulder and my work with Torcasio. Alex teased me and said I should get a real job with the police service. ‘Not counting the fact they rejected me the first time round, I just don’t think I could handle all the regimented shit. And having to wear a uniform for three years…’ 39
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 40
leighredhead
‘You’d look good in uniform,’ Alex said quietly and looked at me from underneath straight dark brows. I tried not to grin as I swirled my whisky around, rattling the ice. A short sharp scream pierced the air and I looked over just in time to see Suzy topple backwards off her bar stool. She hit the floor and lay there laughing, covered in scotch and melting ice cubes. The pub had filled up with after-work drinkers and everyone looked over. Alex ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Shit, I’d better take her home.You need a lift?’ ‘Yeah, you right to drive?’ He gave me a disparaging look, plucked his phone and keys from the table and pulled Suzy up from the floor. ‘I don’t wanna go, I wanna stay,’ she slurred as he hustled her to the door. I was right behind and the other detectives couldn’t resist. ‘Going home with two sheilas, Christakos? You bloody legend!’ ‘Hey, Simone,’ the fat cop yelled and I made the mistake of turning around. ‘Fancy a bit of Greek, do you, love?’ He winked lewdly and laughed when I gave him the finger.
Suzy and I stood on King Street, waiting for Alex to collect his car. A cold briny wind blew up from the Yarra and a train shunted past on its way to Spencer Street Station. Across the river the casino was a beacon of light. Over the road the strip club signs glowed neon and I thought of all the girls inside getting ready for the night ahead, swiping on lipstick and strapping up impossible heels. I remembered the low bass thud of the sound systems that made you want to swing your hips and slide out of your bra. Suzy came close and squinted at me. Strands of hair had escaped from her ponytail and her grey skirt-suit was crumpled and wet, stinking of scotch. She jabbed her finger in my direction. 40
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 41
rubdown
‘Me and Alex have been going out for four months now and it’s good. Real good. I don’t want you fucking it up for me.’ ‘I’m not after your man.’ ‘It takes a cop to understand a cop.’ ‘I’m sure you’re a great comfort to each other.’ I examined my fingernails then looked up and down the street for Alex’s maroon Commodore. ‘You think you’re such a bad girl,’ Suzy said. ‘Well I can be a bad girl too. She gyrated her hips like a stroke afflicted hula dancer, then shrugged off her jacket and swung it around her head, inciting a chorus of beeps from passing cars. I was just about to tell her not to give up her day job when Alex pulled up. She wrenched open the rear door, dived in and sprawled across the back seat with her eyes closed. Thank god. I rode shotgun.‘Where do you actually live?’ I asked Alex.‘Or is that classified?’ ‘Mentone. Suzy’s at Blackrock. I’ll drop you off first.’ We drove down Kingsway through the arse end of Southbank, past the petrol station and the Hungry Jack’s. A tram stopped next to us at the Sturt Street lights, full of bright young things ready to hit the town with their friends. My only friend was probably knee deep in jelly at a suburban beer barn. Suzy started snoring softly in the back. ‘She’s fine when she’s sober,’ Alex explained. ‘It’s just she’s under a lot of pressure at work.’ He hit a button on the steering wheel and Air, Moon Safari started playing. ‘You seeing anyone at the moment?’ ‘Nah. My last boyfriend didn’t exactly work out.’ ‘No shit.’ Alex and Mick had come to blows. He scooted left at Union and hung a right on St Kilda Road. I felt him looking at me as we waited for the lights at the top of Barkly Street. 41
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 42
leighredhead
‘What?’ ‘Nothing. I’d forgotten how blue your eyes are. I think I must have missed you.’ ‘Alex!’ I whispered, swivelling in my seat to check on Suzy. Still out cold, thank Christ. I turned my head to study the tattoo parlour and Chinese restaurant across the road. The interior of the Commodore was lit up with their combined neon glow. A tram rumbled past, the 67 on its way to Carnegie, and the music was space age and sensual, like something you’d hear in a cocktail bar on Venus. When I looked back Alex was still staring, his wide mouth tugging up at the corners. He was undoubtably sexy, but way too straight and law abiding for the likes of me. I felt hot, all of a sudden. Must have been the whisky. Alex drove down Barkly towards Elwood. His eyes were on the road, but he put his hand on my thigh and slid one finger up and down the leather. Not fair. An electric current radiated from my thigh to my pussy and I squirmed in my seat. He kept his hand on my leg until we pulled up in front of my flat. He removed it to angle the rear-vision mirror to check Suzy was still asleep. ‘I’ll walk you to the door.’ At the security entrance I turned and smiled. I reckoned I had one last chance.‘Look, Alex, I don’t want you to violate your code of ethics, but any little snippet of information you could throw me, I sure would be grateful.’ ‘How grateful?’ He moved in close, one hand on the brick wall behind my back. I put my palm on his chest, supposedly to block him, and felt his heart thudding hard beneath the silky shirt. He brushed his fingertips from my forehead to my jawline, down my neck and the bare flesh of my décolletage. The roof of my mouth buzzed like I’d been sucking on a Fruit Tingle. His fingertips went lower, circling my nipple, and a shudder passed through my belly. I wondered if I was this excited because 42
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 43
rubdown
we were being so naughty. His girlfriend, who happened to be packing a police issue Smith and Wesson, was asleep in the car. And apart from threat to life and limb, this was really bad behaviour. Terribly, morally wrong. Then the hormones kicked in, testosterone, serotonin and god knows what else, and I put my arms around his neck and pulled him close, crushing our lips together, pushing my tongue into his mouth. Alex seemed taken aback at first but quickly recovered, soft lips kissing hard. I pressed the length of my body against him and when I felt the firmness under his charcoal wool pants, my bones went liquid. A car horn droned. Long, insistent. ‘Shit, Suzy.’ Alex jumped back, wiped his mouth and looked around. Luckily we were hidden from the car by a thick hedge. He adjusted his crotch to hide the erection, gave me one last intense look and was gone. Upstairs I grabbed a wine and a ciggie, slid open the glass door and sat on the balcony waiting for my pulse to subside. It was a low act, cracking onto another chick’s boyfriend, and I felt guilty even though Alex was probably more to blame than me. I didn’t want to be the sort of person who did that shit. Not anymore. But goddamn it if I didn’t feel incredibly fucking alive. I allowed myself a small thrill remembering the sensation of his hands on my skin, listened to Portishead and drank and smoked some more. Then I ate some leftover chicken and went to bed smelling his aftershave on my shoulder. I realised there was no way in hell I’d be channeling that much sexual energy so reached for the vibrator in my bedside drawer. I slept well.
43
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 44
chaptereight
T
he next morning I woke up and had a quick jog in the pale sunshine along Elwood beach, did a hundred stomach crunches on the lounge room floor and cooked up poached eggs with grilled tomato. The pash on the doorstep had left me strangely energised and I was ready to tackle the day. More than tackle. I was gonna kick its legs out, then bodyslam it from the ropes, pro wrestler style. My plan was to pick up Neville’s tail at the GT Club when it opened, and have a sniff around Tamara’s flat beforehand. It was nine when I knocked on the door. No one answered so I put my ear to the wood and felt vibrations from someone moving inside. I banged louder. Louder still. A young woman wrenched the door open. ‘Alright already! Jesus.’ A satin slip clung to her pale, plump body. ‘Who the fuck are you?’ 44
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 45
rubdown
‘Simone Kirsch, Inquiry Agent.’ I thrust my licence at her and she yawned and examined it through bleary, kohl rimmed eyes. Her dyed black hair stood up in birds’ nests and her fingers were clustered with silver rings shaped like skulls and snakes. ‘Seriously?’ She looked me up and down, clocking my grey trackie daks and matching zip-up sweatshirt. Had to be comfy on a stakeout. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Good. I thought you might be the real estate.’ She cocked her head. ‘You spying for Centrelink?’ ‘No. I was wondering if I could have a look around. I’m investigating the death of a girl who used to live in this flat.’ ‘Tamara Wade?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘You know about her?’ ‘Fuck yeah. Part of the reason I moved here.’ She jutted her chin out. I nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable proposition even though my mind was screaming ‘Freak!!!’. ‘You wanna come in?’ Tamara’s flat had been totally transformed. Swatches of red and black velvet hung from the walls and candle wax had melted over every available surface. The couch was a folded-up futon and the coffee table home to an overflowing ashtray, pack of tarot cards and a wizard shaped bong. What was it with wizard shaped bongs? Chloe owned one just like it.Was there some giant factory down in Cheltenham pumping them out twenty-four hours a day? Shredded newspaper filled a fishtank in the corner. The girl plunged her hand in and a white rat scurried up her arm and perched on her shoulder, its pink nose quivering. ‘This is Aleister.’ ‘Interesting name for a rat.’ ‘As in Aleister Crowley.’ Like I was dense. 45
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 46
leighredhead
‘And what’s your name?’ ‘Morgana.Want some chai? I’m having one.’ ‘No thanks.’ She padded into a galley kitchen, separated from the lounge by a breakfast bar, and started clattering around. I tilted my head to read the titles on the bookshelf. The Compleat Compendium of Magick, The Tibetan Book of the Dead and a whole bunch of HP Lovecraft that appeared to have been stolen from a library. Soon the smell of cinnamon overrode the cigarette ash and melted wax. ‘Mind if I have a look around?’ I asked. Morgana waved a hand, which I took to mean yes, and I wandered down the hall, past the bathroom to the bedroom. It was dark and smelled of dirty sheets and patchouli oil. Black clothing was strewn across the mattress on the floor and a grey army blanket covered the window. Posters for Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy had been tacked to the walls and built-in robe. I picked my way through the mess of Doc Martens and ripped lace and lifted the edge of the blanket. There was a block of flats and a tin fence with a large gum tree behind, too far away to provide access to Tammy’s window. The ground was five metres below, covered in earth and leaves. I’d seen police check the sills for fingerprints and the dirt for any evidence of an intruder. As far as I knew they hadn’t found anything. I walked back down the hall, avoiding the bathroom. The lounge room window had the same aspect as the bedroom and I tried to recall if it had been open that night, but all I could remember was Tamara’s dead eyes staring at me as she floated on a sea of red. I shuddered. Morgana was straining chai from the saucepan into a mug. ‘When did you move in?’ I asked. ‘’Bout a week after Tamara died.’ She took her drink to the coffee table and reclined on the futon. I crunched down into the beanbag opposite. The rat was playing hide and seek in her hair. ‘I’m not scared of the dead, you know. They’re like you and me, 46
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 47
rubdown
only in a different state of being. Make better company than a lot of live fuckers, if you know what I mean. Didn’t tell the real estate though, instead I bargained them down twenty bucks a week.’ She picked up a packet of Port Royal tobacco and rolled a skinny cigarette.‘Her stuff was still here when I looked at the place.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah. A removal company was packing it up to take to her parents.’ ‘What about the bathroom?’ Morgana lit the cigarette and let smoke drift from her lips to her nostrils.‘Clean. Apparently there’s this company that specialises in mopping up after violent death. Far out, hey? They did a good job, but I found a few blood spots they’d missed. I left them there.’ Her eyes challenged me to say something so I just nodded like I would have done the same. I didn’t quite understand goths, but you had to admire their dedication to the subculture. We had them at my country high school in northern New South Wales and they’d be kitted up in greatcoats and army boots on forty degree days, pancake makeup melting in the sun. ‘Do you think she was murdered?’ she asked. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I think she was.’ ‘What makes you say that?’ ‘Her spirit told me.’ Of course it did.‘What did she say?’ I kept all traces of sarcasm from my voice. ‘It’s not like we had a conversation but I can tell the difference between a suicide and a murder victim. The soul of a suicide kind of mopes around, all depressed, but a murder victim is like, seriously pissed off. I’ve had dreams about her, did a bit of ouija board stuff with some friends. I asked if she was angry and the pointer slid to “Yes” so fast it flew off the board. One time I was lying in bed about 47
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 48
leighredhead
to fall asleep and the room got icy cold. I went paralysed, and felt this weight on my chest. She was trying to contact me, I know it. And now you’re here. I was right.’ ‘I was watching the flat the night she died. No one came in or out.’ Morgana shrugged and stubbed out her ciggie. The rat was on her shoulder again, rubbing its front paws together like an obsessive compulsive hand-washer. I checked my watch and struggled up from the beanbag. ‘Thanks for your help. I’d better go.’ ‘Don’t you want to see the bin?’ ‘The what?’ ‘The removalists chucked out a fair bit of Tamara’s junk. I forgot to take the rubbish out last week so it’s still there.’
48
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 49
chapternine
T
he wheelie bin assigned to the flat lay on its side. Maggots spilled onto the concrete, wriggling like animated grains of rice. I tried breathing shallow but the ripe stench of rotting food crept up my nostrils as I dragged out plastic bags oozing liquid filth. I was glad I’d taken Tony’s advice and kept a box of latex gloves handy in the car. Morgana had thrown on a satin robe decorated with Chinese dragons and sat on a step watching me, occasionally picking at her black toenail polish. Aleister Crowley was upstairs in his fishtank. ‘That’s hers,’ she said when I’d pulled out two thick green garbage bags. I ripped open the first one and discovered Tamara was a Tampax girl who smoked Winfields, ate microwave lasagna and was hopelessly addicted to Coca-Cola. The second yielded more interesting booty. As well as a whole bunch of trashy magazines, 49
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 50
leighredhead
broken pencils, takeaway pamphlets and a half empty blister pack of Panadol, I found a couple of glossy brochures. One advertised apartments for sale on the Gold Coast and the other appeared to be a travel brochure for Melbourne, written in Chinese. An English language sticker on the back told me it had come from Fong Chan Travel in Springvale. I transferred the brochures to a plastic Coles bag and thanked Morgana for her help. ‘Don’t thank me. Thank Tammy,’ she said.
I got to the Good Times Club just as Neville pulled up outside in a bright red Subaru Forrester. He unlocked the door, went inside and a couple of minutes later Marla the receptionist showed up, then the girls. I saw Lulu, Rachel of the investment obsession and four others I didn’t recognise. I pulled my mobile from my bag and rang the club. ‘Good Times Club. Your pleasure is our business,’ Marla singsonged. ‘Oh hi, can I talk to Lulu? I’m a friend.’ The phone clattered and a minute later Lulu was on the line, voice deep and breathy. ‘Hello?’ I talked in a rush in case she got any ideas about hanging up. ‘My name’s Simone Kirsch and I’m an inquiry agent. I’ve been hired to look into your friend Tammy’s death. I was wondering if you could talk to me confidentially.’ Silence on the other end. I said, ‘Hannah can vouch for me.’ ‘Okay, when?’ ‘When would suit you?’ ‘I’m doing a double today but I’ve got tomorrow off. How about five pm at Mario’s on Brunswick Street.’ 50
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 51
rubdown
‘Sure.What was all that about between you and Billy Chevelle at Tammy’s funeral?’ ‘I’d rather not talk about it over the phone.’ ‘Fair enough. And please, don’t mention this to Neville or anyone at Good Times.’ ‘Of course not.’ I pressed end. Damn I was good. People were cooperating and things were going swimmingly. If Tony had known what I was up to he’d surely be proud. Right after he’d finished being angry. The front door opened and Neville trotted out, a beige sportscoat over his red polo shirt. I turned the key and gave thanks as The Beast started easily. She’d been running really well. I hung four cars back as I followed him along Queens Road and onto Dandenong.Where was he off to this fine Saturday morning? My question was answered a couple of k’s past Chadstone shopping centre when he pulled into the car park of a cheap-looking brick motel. I parked on the street in a no standing zone, twisted on the bench seat and trained my camera on him, zooming in. He stood in the car park and made a call on his mobile. A few moments later the door to room number five opened and a young Asian woman with waist length hair stood with one hand up on the frame, wearing a black lace slip, stockings, suspenders and high heels. Hubba hubba. I started clicking off shots, feeling like one of those sleazy old fashioned PIs who skulked around in the days before no-fault divorce. Neville walked to the door and scooped her up in his arms, kissing her passionately. It would have been quite romantic and noir if he hadn’t been so incredibly vile. I hung in the car wondering how long all this would take. It was hot in the sun and pressure was building in my bladder. Lucky for me Neville must have been a one minute wonder ’cause they were out in five, the woman dressed in jeans, heels and a sparkly top with shoulder pads. They left Neville’s Subaru outside the room and 51
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 52
leighredhead
walked up the street. I started the Futura but kept her idling while I saw where they went. Not far. Half a block up they walked into a massive, new-looking hotel with a Tabaret sign on the roof. I pulled out from my spot, zipped into the pub parking lot and stopped out of sight behind a yellow panel van, eyeing the hotel entrance through its windows. They hadn’t come out after ten minutes so I decided to go in. A risky proposition without a cunning disguise. I reached into a big stripy washing bag that I kept on the back seat and grabbed a shapeless Vinnies jumper and a pair of big round glasses that made me look like an owl. I pulled my hair back into a low, daggy ponytail, hunched my shoulders and affected a Rainman shuffle as I approached the pub. Neville’s arse was parked in front of a card machine and his girlfriend played the one next to him. They pressed buttons like zombies, chain-smoking and sipping bourbon and coke. I hung a quick piss to avoid any future funnel action then ordered a soda water and sat at a machine with my back to them, slowly putting coins in the slot and watching their reflections in the glass on the screen. The woman spoke first. ‘So when are we moving?’ ‘Listen, Ling, there’s a lot of stuff I’ve got to sort out first. I don’t want to go into this half cocked. Gotta finish this next job, that’ll bring in some cash, and then I want to put the business on the market.We’re looking, I dunno, end of the year.’ ‘I can’t wait that long.’ ‘You’ve been waiting a year and a half. What’s another nine months.’ ‘Sure you want to leave her?’ ‘Sure I’m sure.Why would I want that old moll when I’ve got you? But we need a lot of money for Perth if we’re going to buy you that business.’ 52
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 53
rubdown
‘What about the money in your safe?’ ‘We just need a bit more.’ In the reflection I saw a big guy approach Neville and I hazarded a glance. The bloke had tousled, sandy hair, a crooked nose, was at least six two and built like a circus strongman. He wore stonewash jeans and a Holden guernsey. Neville transferred the cigarette to his mouth and shook the man’s hand. ‘Hey, Craig, still got some credits left. Giss a sec and we’ll go.’ Craig the drug dealing nephew? Craig and Ling nodded at each other. Neville kept pressing buttons and the cardy made a shickshick sound. He said to Ling.‘We’ll be an hour or so, you right to stay here?’ I slipped off my stool, out of the pub and scribbled what I could remember of the conversation into my notebook while I kept the Futura idling. A minute later I was tailing Craig’s gold, late model ute as they turned off Dandenong and right onto Clayton Road. Another right on North and they scooted left down a side street that ran by the railway line. I pulled into a clearway, waited thirty seconds, then followed. The ute was three hundred metres up the road and I pulled in behind a rubbish skip overflowing with bricks and broken gyprock. I leaned out the driver’s side window and used the zoom lens on my camera like a telescope. They were parked outside a red brick unit block enclosed by a chain link fence. The rest of the street was a rundown mess of potholes, vacant lots and houses slated for demolition. They got out of the ute and leaned against it, smoking cigarettes.I snapped off a couple of shots and waited.A silver Holden Astra drove up from the opposite direction and parked in front of the ute. Another Asian woman, this one with bobbed black hair and a pink, Chanel style suit stepped out, walked over to Neville and kissed him on the lips. Gross. How many chicks did an ugly old 53
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 54
leighredhead
bastard like Neville have? I took more photos as they approached the building, unlocked a gate in the fence and disappeared inside. Ten minutes later they were out and stood around chatting. Neville had his arm around the woman’s waist and she’d stuck her hand in the back pocket of his slacks. Was this the ‘old moll’ Ling wanted Neville to leave? From where I sat she didn’t look a day over thirtyfive.She pecked his cheek and then took off in the Astra.Neville and Craig got back in the ute.What on earth were they up to? I debated whether to keep following Neville or check out the units and decided on the latter. I’d probably pushed my luck following them in the Futura as long as I had. He did a U-turn and I slunk down in my seat until they’d passed, then checked the rear-vision mirror to make sure the coast was clear. Holy shit. The ute had braked twenty metres from me. Even worse. It was reversing. My first thought was to jam on a cap and sunnies so he wouldn’t recognise me from the week before. Then I turned the key in the ignition and prepared to hightail it out of there. She wouldn’t start. The bitch wouldn’t start. My heart hammered and sweat beaded on my upper lip as I turned the key again and again. Each time nothing. The ute pulled up beside me and Neville and Craig got out. I thought to cut and run, but it was too late. Craig was circling the car, kicking tyres like he was in a yard. Neville approached the passenger side window. Just in time I remembered the camera on my lap and covered it with a Melways street directory. Maybe I’d look lost. I kept turning the key. Nothing. Neville leaned his forearm on the roof and rapped his knuckles on the window. I leaned across the bench seat, cracked it open and tried to act like I didn’t know who he was. ‘Can I help you?’ I squeaked. He reached into his jacket. 54
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 55
chapterten
‘O
pen the window,’ he said. I was still turning the key.‘Sorry—’ I tried to sound breezy— ‘I’m in a bit of a hurry.’ ‘Open the window.’ I wound it halfway down. I was fucked anyway. The glass wouldn’t stop a bullet. Craig quit circling, sat on the bonnet and the car dipped with his weight. I looked at Neville and in my heightened state of awareness noticed red capillaries on his cheeks, black nasal hair and that his front teeth were false. ‘This your car?’ ‘Yeah,’ my voice was strangled. ‘Want to sell it?’ The words didn’t get through to my brain. ‘What?’ 55
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 56
leighredhead
He pulled his hand out of his jacket and gave me a card. My hand trembled as I took it. ‘My mate collects classic cars. Does them up.’ I just stared at him. ‘You having trouble starting her? Pop the bonnet.’ Was this a trick? I popped it. Craig jumped off and propped it open. Neville had a look-see. ‘Got a crowbar?’ I shook my head. Neville ambled over to the Subaru and grabbed a crowbar from the back. He was going to bash me to death? Seemed a bit messy. He poked his head under the bonnet and I heard five loud metallic clanks. What was he smashing my engine for? This was too weird, bad guys didn’t do this shit in the movies. Neville’s face appeared at the window. ‘See if she’ll turn over now.’ I twisted the key and The Beast responded with a throaty roar. Craig slammed down the bonnet and headed for the ute. Neville said,‘Sometimes helps with these old cars if you smack the alternator a couple of times. Give me a call if you want to sell.’ When they’d left I lay down on the bench seat and gave in to the shakes. No more bodyslamming for me today. I couldn’t even get the guts up to check out the units. What I really needed was a drink.
Since I’d been using my old non-digital camera I had the photos developed at a one hour place, then called Alex. He was at the MCG watching a football match, no Suzy, and was keen to meet for a drink at the Hilton at five. I didn’t tell him I wanted more information and thought he’d assume I wanted to take up where we’d left off the night before. I didn’t know when I’d become such a vixen. Perhaps PI work brought it out in me. 56
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 57
rubdown
I made myself up, dressed in faded jeans and an off-theshoulder jumper and caught the 246 bus to East Melbourne, seeing as how alcohol was involved whenever Alex and I got together. Feeling lazy I jumped on a tram at Wellington Parade, one of those new space-age ones with seats moulded out of bright green plastic, and got off two stops later at the Hilton. A porter in a navy jacket opened the glass door and I smiled like a visiting dignitary and turned left at the lobby. The Park Lounge was a typical hotel bar full of overstuffed furniture, bronze fabric and dark wood. Over in the corner a guy in a tuxedo played ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’ on a baby grand. The crowd was mostly middle aged blokes in town for the footy, a few with wives of the big hair and gold jewellery variety. Alex had saved me a seat by a picture window overlooking a courtyard of small conifers and neatly raked gravel. He’d even dressed up to watch the football—black pants, charcoal sweater, and a long wool coat draped over the back of his chair. A double whisky and a glass of champagne waited on the table. He smiled and I noticed he had sexy teeth. ‘I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got both.’ ‘Good call.’ I sat down and took a hefty gulp of champagne. ‘How was the game?’ ‘We lost.’ I grimaced for him, not that I gave a shit about football. I just hoped he wasn’t one of those guys who went into deep depression over a bad result. Scientific studies had shown a footy fan’s testosterone levels could plummet when their team bombed out, and although we were friends first, Alex’s testosterone was the real reason he was meeting with me now. ‘Who do you support?’ he asked. It was what everyone wanted to know in Melbourne, sometimes even before your name. ‘I don’t have a team.’ 57
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 58
leighredhead
‘You’re kidding.’ ‘I’m from Sydney originally. I never got around—’ ‘Ah, the Swans then.’ As I sipped my champagne Alex gave me The Look. And a sort of half smile. I pulled my photos out and spread them on the table. He picked up the one outside the flats and the smile disappeared. ‘Shit, Simone. That’s Neville and Craig Annis, and Neville’s girlfriend Wu Chan.’ ‘What about this other chick?’ I pointed to the woman from the motel. ‘No idea. Thought I told you to stay away from this bullshit.’ ‘I didn’t do it on purpose. I was following Neville, like, from afar, and he met up with them.’ I didn’t tell him about my close encounter.‘What do you reckon they’re up to? Dodgy real estate deal?’ ‘Wu Chan’s into illegal brothels, among other things.’ He rubbed his hands over his face and suddenly looked tired. For the first time I noticed fine lines radiating out from his eyes and right then he looked older than thirty-five. He sighed. ‘Here’s what we do. I’ve got a mate works in the Asian Squad. I want you to meet with him, informally, give him everything you’ve found, finish your report and tell your client there’s nothing to the case. I’m playing squash with Sean at the World Trade Centre gym tomorrow morning. Meet us there at one.’ ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘You play squash?’ ‘Just got back into it.’ He pointed to his shoulder.‘It’s a bit stiff,’ ‘Like last night?’ He grinned and didn’t look so tired anymore. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ ‘And go where?’ ‘We could get a room upstairs.’ ‘Alex, you’ve got a girlfriend.’ ‘She’s not exactly my girlfriend.’ 58
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 59
rubdown
I tipped the last of the champagne down my throat. ‘Try telling her that.’ ‘She didn’t worry you last night.’ I felt my cheeks getting hot, reached for the whisky and looked away. Jesus. Emery Wade and one hit wonder Billy Chevelle were sitting at a table on the other side of the bar. I turned back quickly and put my hand up to hide my face. ‘Over there,’ I whispered, tilting my head. ‘Emery and Billy.’ ‘So? Blaine’s just played, they were probably at the game. Anyway, they’re getting up to leave.’ ‘Let’s follow them!’ ‘Christ’s sake.’ ‘Please. It’ll be fun.’ He looked doubtful. ‘How much fun?’ ‘A lot.’ The vixen was back. It worked. Moments later we were out the door, into Alex’s car and following Emery’s metallic blue Audi down Wellington Parade towards Punt Road. ‘Tell me again why we’re doing this?’ Alex asked. ‘Billy Chevelle had a fight with a trannie named Lulu at Tamara’s funeral. I get a bad vibe about him.’ ‘A bad vibe?’ He shook his head and slipped a CD into the player. Nina Simone, ‘Mood Indigo’. ‘Good chase music,’ I said. ‘I give good chase.’ We were on Punt Road now, heading south, and Alex sped up and overtook the Audi and a couple of other vehicles. ‘What are you doing?’ I twisted in my seat to check Wade’s car was still there. ‘Only amateurs tail someone from behind.’ I watched the Audi in my side mirror. They indicated left and turned onto High Street. ‘They’ve turned off!’ 59
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 60
leighredhead
He smiled, took the next left, turned left again, then right on High. The Audi was right in front of us. ‘Now you’re showing off,’ I said. Emery pulled over and Alex did the same, half a block behind him.We watched Emery and Billy enter a shopfront but couldn’t make out the sign on the door, so got out and crossed to the other side of the road.We strolled along for a bit and pretended to check out the display in a furniture shop. I glanced back once. The glass door they’d gone in read Bootcamp Personal Training and stairs led to a unit above. ‘What are they doing at a personal trainer’s this time of night?’ ‘Maybe it’s Blaine’s trainer. Maybe he’s getting a post-game rubdown.’ ‘No way. His team would have their own masseurs. Their own trainers too.’ The plate glass in front of us was like a mirror. I could see lights on in the upstairs unit, but nothing else through the thick blinds. Alex came up from behind and wrapped his arms around me. It felt so nice and warm that I momentarily forgot myself and leaned back into him. He held me tighter and kissed my neck and I tilted my head and closed my eyes. ‘Shit, Alex. This is not right.’ ‘It feels right.’ I drew in a sharp breath as his hand slid under my jumper, across my belly and onto my breast. My brain said no but my body had other ideas. ‘But Suzy.’ ‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’ Bullshit. I dragged his hand out of my top, turned to face him and changed the subject. ‘Any way you could find out about Bootcamp Personal Training and who owns it?’ 60
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 61
rubdown
He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a cold cop stare. ‘Think you can flutter your eyelashes and I’ll go do your dirty work?’ ‘No,’ I lied. He shook his head and crossed the road back to the Commodore. I waited for a break in the traffic and followed. I hadn’t even shut the passenger door when he revved the engine and cut in front of a tram. The bell dinged and Alex shoved his arm out the window and gave the driver the finger, then gunned it south on Chapel Street just as the light was turning red. ‘Where are we going?’ I asked. ‘I’m taking you home.’ ‘So I’ll see you tomorrow at the squash courts?’ Alex stared straight ahead as we shot across Dandenong Road, past the Astor Theatre.‘I don’t want to see you until you’ve grown up a bit.’ I snorted, halfway between a laugh and a cough. ‘Grown up? Yeah, cheating on your girlfriend’s real grown up.’ At the bottom of Chapel he indicated left and turned onto Brighton Road. ‘I don’t have time for prickteases,’ he said. I twisted around in my seat and stared. ‘You think I’m a pricktease?’ He said nothing, just accelerated until he was doing ninety in a sixty zone. I laughed at him. ‘Let me get this straight.You’ll only see me if I fuck you.’ He scowled. ‘That what you really think I’m about?’ ‘I do, actually. And here I was thinking you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour after I helped you out last year.’ Now it was his turn to laugh.‘Helped me out? You almost got me fucking killed.’ ‘I thought we were friends.’ 61
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 62
leighredhead
He braked hard at the intersection of Brighton and Glenhuntly Road. ‘Simone, we were never friends.’ That stung. I lifted the door handle but it was centrally locked. ‘Let me out of the car.’ ‘I’m taking you home.’ ‘Let me out of the fucking car!’ I started hitting buttons on the console, trying to unlock it. He got the shits and punched a switch on the driver’s side door. ‘Piss off then!’ he said. I slammed the door and jumped onto the traffic island and when he got the green arrow he took off in a cloud of burning rubber.What was his problem? I was so goddamn sick of moody men. I ran across the road to the Elsternwick Hotel, ordered a double Jameson’s with a beer chaser and bought a packet of cigarettes. I wrote a few notes about Emery and Billy going to Bootcamp, but mostly smoked, drank and brooded. Alex was the one with the girlfriend. He had no right to get angry at me. That was it. I was through asking him for help. I could cultivate another source. Chloe had heaps of coppers twisted round her little finger. Surely one of them would help me out. After two more doubles I was pretty wasted and tottered across the highway to McDonald’s. Fuck the no-carbs thing. I stuffed salty fries in my mouth as my boots clip-clopped down Glenhuntly Road towards home. I was so intent on munging down my junk food that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late.
62
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 63
chaptereleven
A
massive arm gripped my waist from behind. A gloved hand clapped my mouth. The McDonald’s bag slapped the pavement and I was lifted like a child, legs kicking the air. He carried me away from the main road, down a path that ran by the canal, and I struggled uselessly against a wall of muscle. My arms were pinned to my side. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest. There were no houses along this part of the canal, just Elwood Primary with its darkened playground and the deserted secondary college across the water. He slammed me down on the dirt beside the school fence. Air rushed from my lungs and I gasped for oxygen like an emphysemic old man. Terror surged as I looked up. The body hunching over me was mountainous. Reptilian eyes glittered through slits in a black 63
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 64
leighredhead
balaclava. I started to scream, but he smothered my mouth. I bit and tasted leather, kicked out my legs. He dropped onto me and subdued them with one powerful thigh. His hand snaked up my top, grabbed my breast and squeezed. Holy shit. I was going to get raped, two blocks from home. Every muscle strained as I tried to resist, but I couldn’t move, pinned like a butterfly to a board. The expressionless head moved close and a long pink tongue flickered out of the mouth hole. It slid all over my face, chin to forehead, over my eyelids, nose and lips. The sticky saliva trail smelled metallic, like tooth decay, and I gagged. His tongue slithered in and out of my ear and he whispered, ‘Simone, should have stayed in the sex trade instead of poking your nose in other people’s business.’ He tugged my jeans so hard the button popped off and the zip came down. I couldn’t believe this was happening and writhed, in vain, when suddenly the weight lifted. Incredibly, he stood up, laughed and strolled off around the corner of the school. I jumped up and bolted back to Glenhuntly Road, then all the way home, lungs burning. I deadlocked the door and raced to the bathroom, my first thought to wash off the hideous, drying slag. After handfuls of foaming facial cleanser and hot water my hair was wet and my face tight and pink. The phone rang. If it was Alex calling to apologise, I’d tell him what happened and he could come round. All was forgiven. ‘Hello?’ Goosebumps pricked my arms as I heard my attacker’s voice: ‘That was a warning, you dirty cunt.You only get one.’
64
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 65
rubdown
The World Trade Centre was a boxy grey building on Flinders Street, across the river from the Exhibition Centre and casino. I wasn’t sure any trading went on but I did know Victoria Police had offices there, Ethical Standards included. I walked through the lobby, following signs down a carpeted corridor to the Docklands gym. Every second person wore police ID on blue and white string and looked me over. It was probably the pink polka dot singlet and tight white pedal pushers. Couldn’t be helped. Just when you least expected it Melbourne hit you with an uneasonably hot day. I’d been listening to the Beach Boys all morning in honour of the heat and to buck myself up and get over the night before. A sign on the gym window advertised Fifteen Minute Butt Buster Class—The Fastest Way To Tone Your Butt. I didn’t have any major butt issues since I tended to gain weight around my stomach. On a good day I was pretty much straight up and down. On a bad I was an apple on toothpicks. The gym was nothing fancy.Reception desk,fridge full of sports drinks and a room jammed with weight machines and cardio equipment. I climbed a flight of stairs. On my right a wood panelled sauna and spa were wedged between changing rooms, to the left a catwalk looked down on the squash courts. I leaned against the blue metal railing and checked out court number two. Alex was wearing white and running around like a maniac, grunting and swatting at a teenytiny ball,his shoes squeaking on the wooden floor.I’d never seen him in shorts and checked out his legs while I had the chance. Not bad. Muscular and kind of hairy. His opponent was slimmer than him, with pale skin and red-gold hair. Looked about twenty-five from where I stood, and had nice pins too.What a perve. Alex won, but his friend didn’t seem too fussed. When they climbed the stairs, towels around their necks, I pushed off from the railing. 65
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 66
leighredhead
‘Hey.’ Alex pulled up short when he saw me and gave me a look like I was a dogshit he’d narrowly avoided stepping on. ‘Didn’t think you’d show.’ His friend looked from him to me and back again. Alex said, ‘Sean, this is Simone Kirsch. Simone, Detective Senior Constable Sean Shields, Asian Squad.’ He stalked off to the change rooms. I stuck out my hand and Detective Shields pumped it up and down. ‘Simone, finally we meet. I’ve heard so much about you.’ I raised my eyebrows. Up close I guessed he could be early thirties, but boyish looking, with a passing resemblance to Ewan McGregor. He even had a slight Scottish accent. ‘Alex tells me you have information on Wu Chan,’ he said. ‘I have photos.’ I patted my bag. ‘Great, let me get cleaned up and I’ll take a look.’ Ten minutes later they were out, carrying sports bags and racquets. Alex wore a suit and Sean was dressed in jeans, a blue Bonds t-shirt and Converse All-stars. Alex took off down the stairs. Sean and I trailed behind. ‘Should we go to a café or something?’ Sean asked. A couple of boofy guys leaned against the reception counter as we passed. One tall and fair, the other squat and dark. Loose singlets revealed back hair and a layer of fat that hid any muscles they may have had. They waited until we’d passed, then murmured, ‘Pooftas.’ Alex stopped at the doorway and turned round. ‘What did you say?’ ‘You heard, Christakos,’ said the short one. The fair guy started barking, ‘Woof woof. A dog and a fag. Give the dog a bone.’ The short one laughed like this was comedy gold. I knew a 66
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 67
rubdown
lot of other cops didn’t like Ethical Standards, called them dogs. I hadn’t thought they’d be that blatant about it. The tall guy stared at my tits. ‘Why don’t ya try a real man sweetheart, ’stead of hanging out with a couple of woolly wooftas?’ Sean walked right up to him and smiled. ‘You know, homophobes act the way they do because they’re repressing their own pent-up desire for the same sex. Admit it, McPherson, you want me. The truth’ll set you free.’ Then he winked and blew the guy a kiss. McPherson went bright red and took a step towards Sean. Alex got between them and I started inching forward, figuring I could always jump on someone’s back and swat at their head like girls do in the movies. ‘You fucking wog.’ McPherson raised his fists and the musclebound manager bolted over from the Pec Deck and slapped his palm on the counter. ‘Oi! Not in my fucking gym. I’ll ban the lot of you. I’ve got you on fucking camera.’ He pointed to the closed circuit unit on the ceiling. The cops stared at each other, no one wanting to back down. Sean was grinning at the two boofheads, making them madder, and Alex had this look in his eye like he wanted to kill McPherson. I recognised that look. I sometimes got it myself. Finally McPherson laughed and nudged the squat guy.‘Come on, Davo. Don’t wanna touch the fuckers anyway, probably got AIDS.’ They strutted off to the bench press. Out in the corridor Sean slapped Alex on the shoulder. ‘Just like old times, hey?’ He turned to me. ‘Sorry about that. Occupational hazard when you work with dumb-arse rednecks. Let’s go to a café and check out these photos. Coming, Alex?’ ‘Gotta work,’ Alex grunted and disappeared up an escalator. ‘Dunno what’s up his arse,’ said Sean. We left the building and Sean led the way across Flinders 67
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 68
leighredhead
Street to the Grand Hotel, an Italianate sandstone building with an outdoor café. We sat under a red and white umbrella and I ordered a double espresso and a mineral water. Sean asked for a pot of tea and a salad sandwich and sparked up a Marlboro Light. ‘Go health, Detective Shields,’ I said. ‘Christ sake, call me Sean. Tell you the truth I’m not that fucking into squash. Any sport for that matter. It’s more an exercise in male bonding and the only time we ever meet up without getting smashed. Can I take a look at the photos?’ ‘Sure.’ I slid the packet across the table. ‘What was that about at the gym?’ ‘Meatheads. Went through the academy with Alex and me. Couldn’t handle that we were smarter than they were. I know for a fact McPherson’s failed the detective exam twice.’ He examined the photos and told me the woman in the pink suit who’d met Neville at the flats was indeed Wu Chan, illegal brothel operator and Nev’s defacto wife. Despite Wu’s youthful looks she was actually forty-three. They’d been together for more than twenty years and had a six year old son. Neville’s mistress turned out to be Ling Sun, a good friend of Wu’s who’d started as a working girl before moving on to managing some of Wu’s brothels. Some friend. In turn I sketched what I’d been doing, leaving out Vincent’s name. I showed him the brochures for the travel agency and the Gold Coast apartments and mentioned that Tamara might have had something on Neville Annis. He looked doubtful and I told him I hadn’t believed it either until last night. ‘Why, what happened?’ He poured tea into his cup, added milk and sugar. I told him about the argument with Alex and when I got to the part where I was attacked, inexplicably started to cry. Man, how embarrassing. 68
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 69
rubdown
He reached across the table, squeezed my hand and passed me paper napkins from a metal dispenser. I gradually got the story out between sobs. ‘Jesus, mate. I’m sorry.Want me to report it?’ I shook my head. ‘No point. There’s no evidence. I didn’t see his face.’ ‘I can run a trace on the call he made.What time was it?’ ‘About nine.’ ‘Give me your phone number.’ I wrote my home number on the back of one of my cards. ‘Do you have any idea who attacked you?’ ‘Someone big. Maybe Craig Annis, but I don’t know. I never heard Craig’s voice.’ ‘What you up to for the rest of the day?’ Sean asked. He took a bite of his sandwich. It was wholemeal with a lot of alfalfa sprouts. ‘Dunno. Probably typing up the report for my client and trying to stay away from big guys in black balaclavas.Why?’ ‘Fancy going for a drive?’
Sean wanted to see the flats, so we left my car in the Trade Centre car park and drove to Clayton in his white Saab. It was old and a bit dented, but spotless inside. He turned onto Citylink off Flinders Street and we drove past the Rod Laver Arena. The Yarra River was on our right, Olympic Park on the left. Sean lit a Marlboro Light and stuck a CD in the player. Nina Simone again. ‘Alex played that last night.’ ‘Music’s one of the things we’ve got in common. We clicked right away when we met at Glen Waverley Police Academy in the early nineties. Both been to uni, played instruments, liked jazz.We used to be in one of the police bands. The Jazz Squad.’ 69
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 70
leighredhead
‘Alex was in the police band?’ I tried to imagine it, couldn’t, and realised I hardly knew anything about him except that he was moody, a great kisser and pretty damn good with his hands.‘What does he play?’ ‘Piano. Keyboards.’ Well I never. ‘What about you?’ ‘Clarinet. It’s a bit nerdy, isn’t it? Saxophone’s a lot sexier. And I sing a bit—not very well.’ ‘Did you study music at uni?’ ‘No, languages. I speak Vietnamese, Cantonese, Mandarin, French, German, Italian, Spanish. I’m currently learning Thai.’ ‘Are you shitting me?’ ‘No. Once you’ve learned a couple it gets easier.’ ‘Talk about cunning linguist!’ I know, it was corny. Sean said, ‘You reckon I never heard that one before?’ But he smiled at me. ‘Sorry.Your accent, you’re originally from Scotland?’ ‘Emigrated here with my mum and sister when I was fourteen.’ ‘Why’d you join the police? With all those languages you could have made a lot of money.’ ‘I’m not in it for the money,’ he said, and left it at that. As Nina sang ‘My Baby Just Cares for Me’, Citylink turned into the Monash Freeway and all I could see was shrubby trees, concrete noise walls and massive electricity pylons. I stuck my hand out the window to float it on the warm air. Sean was one of those people you meet who instantly feel like an old friend. He was also the kind of person who can’t stay quiet for long. ‘So what’s going on with you and Alex?’ he said. ‘That was weird this morning.’ ‘Nothing’s going on between us.’ ‘That’s the problem then.’ ‘He’s got a girlfriend.’ 70
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 71
rubdown
‘Suzy?’ He shook his head. ‘What, don’t you like her?’ I wanted him to say no. ‘I wouldn’t say I don’t like her. She’s just … I don’t know. Alex has fancied you since he met you.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Big time.What about you? Do you like him?’ This was not the sort of conversation I’d expected to be having with a baby faced senior constable I’d only just met, but his openness was engaging and made you want to respond in kind. Especially after a kick-arse double espresso. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Kind of. There’s something there but I don’t really think about it because of the girlfriend issue. And at the moment I don’t like him at all because he’s being a prick. Besides, he’s a Libra and I’m a Scorpio. It’d never work out.’ ‘I’m a Virgo.’ ‘Now there’s a sign I’ve always got along with.’ It was true. My ex-fiancé had been one. ‘You know it’s not true we’re all obsessive-compulsive clean freaks.’ I looked around the Saab’s immaculate interior. The floor appeared to have been recently vacuumed. I picked up Sean’s CD case and saw the discs were in alphabetical order. ‘Really,’ I said.
Outside the red brick flats the street was deserted. ‘No bad guys,’ Sean said. ‘What now?’ ‘We check the place out.’ The gate in the fence was chained shut but there was enough of a gap to squeeze through. Finding the main door locked, 71
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 72
leighredhead
we followed the concrete driveway around the building, Sean checking every window to see if it would open. ‘What do you reckon they’re up to?’ I asked. ‘Renovation show?’ He tried a small window of bobbled glass and it screeched open, old paint flaking off. ‘Don’t you need a warrant?’ He grinned like a naughty little boy. ‘You’ll never get in there,’ I said. He grinned some more. ‘Why do you think I brought you along? Come on, I’ll give you a boost.’ ‘I won’t fit either.’ ‘Sure you will.’ ‘Maybe if I was naked and covered in goose fat.’ ‘Interesting image.’ He knelt, lacing his fingers together, and I sighed and put my foot in his hands, fingers gripping the splintery window frame. He stood up, shoved me through and I dangled front in, arse out and surveyed the grotty bathroom. I was above a toilet and the brown tile floor seemed a long way down. ‘It’s too far to—’ Maybe he didn’t hear me because he tipped my legs up and pushed. I slithered out like a calf being born, did a brief handstand on the cracked toilet lid and crumpled to the dusty floor. Great. My pink top was torn at the side and an oily mark stained the pedal pushers. Maybe only Liz Hurley could get away with white pants. Every time I tried it was a nightmare of sump oil, beetroot juice and unexpected periods. ‘Let me in the front of the building,’ Sean yelled. I walked through the musty flat, keeping my eye out in case Neville was using it to store drugs—perhaps a package of pure cocaine I could slip down my knickers. No such luck. All I saw was filth and bet the previous tenants hadn’t gotten their bond back. The carpet was covered in cat hair and crushed corn chips. Poster 72
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 73
rubdown
sized rectangles and BluTack marked the walls. With each step molecules of stale nicotine and rancid fat landed on me, insinuating themselves into my skin and hair. I stepped into the foyer and saw Sean waving frantically through the glass door, hurried over and let him in. ‘What is it?’ ‘The bad guys!’
73
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 74
chaptertwelve
W
e raced back to the flat and locked ourselves in. Sean’s eyes were wide. ‘Shit,’ I whispered. ‘What do we do?’ ‘Stay put. They didn’t see me and there are eight flats in this block. Not much chance of them coming in here.’ The door banged shut. A cough. Two sets of footsteps and jangling keys. I was holding my breath and heard the blood rush in my head. Neville’s voice. ‘I’ll just measure up one of the rooms before we pick up the beds, yeah?’ A key scraped the lock. Sean and I looked at each other. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall towards the bedroom at the other end of the flat. We were almost there when we heard a shout. ‘Hey!’ 74
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 75
rubdown
Sean slammed the door, pushed the button in the handle and leaned back on it with all his weight. Footsteps thudded on the carpet, someone hammered the door and the walls started shaking. I was struggling with the window, trying to slide it open, but the sashes were stiff from lack of use. ‘Quick,’ he shouted. Somebody kicked the door and his body jerked with every blow. A mighty bang and there was a crack in the cheap timber. I thought of that scene with Jack Nicholson in The Shining and the extra pulse of fear gave me the strength to shove the window open. I clambered out into the concrete car park behind the flats and stood back. Sean released the handle, ran across the room and dived through the window as the bedroom door burst open. He landed hard, scraped his palms and knees, rolled. I hauled him up by the t-shirt as Craig struggled to fit his huge body through the window frame. Then I saw Neville come around the corner of the building, recognition in his eyes and a gun in his hand. Adrenaline surged and Sean and I ran straight for the fence. I didn’t think I’d make it over the eight foot chain link until I heard a gunshot and the crack of a bullet ricocheting off the concrete drive. Fuck. Sean and I leapt at the fence, scaled it like a couple of monkeys and fell to the ground on the other side as another bullet struck a metal pole. I glanced back as we picked ourselves up and started to run. Neville and Craig weren’t climbing over, they were running around the front of the flats to try and head us off. We stumbled across the uneven ground of the vacant lot next door, to the road and Sean’s car. He fumbled with the keys at the driver’s side, dropped them, and I screamed at him to hurry as Neville and Craig approached the gate. I was jumping up and down, pulling on the handle as Sean threw himself in. Neville charged through and raised the gun as he ran, pointing it right at 75
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 76
leighredhead
me. Sean simultaneously fired up the engine, leaned over and unlocked the passenger door. I reefed it open, jumped in, slammed it and shrieked as the side mirror exploded in a shower of glass and metal. Bullets clanged off the boot and Sean floored it, tyres squealing as the Saab skidded around the corner. He tore around residential streets until it became obvious no one was following us and we stopped in a laneway beside Huntingdale Golf Course. I realised I was curled into a ball on the passenger seat, hands over my face, breathing deeply. Sean and I looked at each other. His eyes were all pupil. He started to laugh and I couldn’t help it. I laughed too. Sean wound down the window, stuck his head out, and yelled something unintelligible to the sky. ‘Oh my god,’ I said, still laughing, ‘you are a fucking freak.’ He pulled his head back in and grinned at me, eyes gleaming, reddish hair all messed up, and quoted Easy Rider.‘I’m not a freak, I just like to freak.’ ‘I feel like I’m on drugs,’ I said. ‘Fucking adrenaline, baby.’ His accent was stronger now. ‘Man, I could use a drink.’ ‘Glove compartment.’ I flipped it open and found a silver hip flask, unscrewed the cap and took a slug. Vodka burned a molten path down my throat and I coughed, shook my head and handed it to Sean. While he drank I put two of his Marlboros in my mouth and lit them with a match, then stuck one between his lips. We smoked and sipped in silence for a while, like James Bond and Pussy Galore after a roll in the hay. ‘You need to take a statement from me or something?’ I asked. ‘Why? You weren’t there. And neither of us illegally entered the premises. Right?’ ‘Right.’ I tapped the side of my nose and winked. 76
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 77
rubdown
Sean screwed the cap back on the hip flask.‘Let’s take a trip to Springvale,’ he said.‘The Fong Chan travel agency belongs to Wu Chan’s cousin.’
We were parked across the road from Fong Chan Travel, amidst Asian supermarkets, discount stores and hot bread shops. Posters for Hong Kong and Beijing hung in the agency window and a specials board out front was written in Chinese and English. A feng shui charm hung above the door, a red hexagon with a mirror in the middle. I turned to Sean. ‘Gonna go flash the ID? Demand some answers?’ ‘And blow my cover? Shit no. I’m off to the pub on the corner. Jimmy Chiu’s the bartender and what he doesn’t know about Springvale is worth knowing. Stay put, I’ll be back in a sec.’ I took the vodka out of the glove box, lit another one of his cigarettes and flipped through the CDs. He had everything from Louis Armstrong to Sarah Vaughan, with some modern stuff thrown in: Cat Empire, Chili Peppers, Scissor Sisters. I liked Sean, and it was good to be able to hang out with a guy and not constantly wonder what he’d be like in bed. Not that Sean wasn’t hot, he was, and the accent was sexy as hell, but since he didn’t swing my way it took the pressure right off. Fifteen minutes and one Marlboro light later he slid into the front seat and started up the car. I’d already returned the hip flask, maintaining the illusion I wasn’t an alcoholic. ‘What happened?’ I asked as he pulled into the traffic. ‘He wasn’t talking so I grabbed him by the collar, dragged him over the bar and roughed him up some.’ ‘Really?’ 77
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 78
leighredhead
‘No. First I pleaded, then I whined, and when that didn’t work I handed over two hundred bucks.’ ‘So what’s the story?’ ‘Wu’s got a bunch of girls flying in to Tullamarine on Wednesday. Fong Chan travel arranges the flights and the girls come in on tourist visas with male partners so it doesn’t look suss. The guys go home a couple of days later and the girls stay on as prostitutes.’ ‘Are they aware they’ll be hooking or is it one of those sex slave things?’ ‘Don’t know. What I do know is Neville will be looking around for another venue. He’s careful, won’t use the flats since he found us there.’ ‘Think he knew who we were?’ ‘Wouldn’t know me from a bar of soap but he sure looked like he recognised you.’ ‘What now? We were on the Monash Freeway again, heading toward the city. ‘I have to get to work right away, contact immigration and the feds, organise a raid. But where are we going to put you?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You’ve already been threatened once. If it was Neville and Craig they’re not going to back off now. Got anywhere you can stay until Wednesday?’ I thought of Chloe’s tiny bedsit in Parkdale. She’d been through enough shit with criminal types last year and didn’t need more heat from me.‘No. Look, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a new deadlock and—’ ‘Stay at my place. I’ve got a spare room and I’m hardly ever home.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘Of course. Mi casa su casa.’ ‘Alright.’ I wasn’t so in love with my flat that I’d risk my life 78
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 79
rubdown
just to stay there a couple of nights. Besides, hanging with Sean I’d know exactly what was happening with Neville. ‘Only problem is, you’re going to need someone to escort you back to Elwood for your things. I don’t have time, but Alex should be knocking off and he’s got a spare key to my place.’ ‘He won’t do it. He hates me.’ ‘He doesn’t hate you. Get him to give me a call. Better still, tell him what happened last night and today. He’ll snap out of it.’ Somehow I doubted that.
The constable at the front desk told me Alex had gone home but I knew where to find him. The usual suspects were at the Waterside Hotel, already surrounded by empty glasses. I marched straight up, torn and mangled, hair all over the shop. ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’ Suzy threw back a scotch. I ignored her and stood next to Alex. ‘I have to talk to you. It’s important.’ ‘Cop shop’s down the road.’ Alex stared at the wrestling on the big screen TV. ‘Lots of police you can talk to there.’ The fat cop with the comb-over winked.‘You can talk to me, darlin’, I’m all ears and a lot more besides.’ ‘Alex,’ I said. They’re setting up an illegal brothel, Asian sex slaves. Sean and I uncovered it today. He thinks I’m in dang—’ ‘What’s the address?’ Fat cop. ‘I feel a bit toey.’ Another one said, ‘Hey, big boy, me love you long time.’ Everyone laughed except Alex. Suzy laughed the loudest. The vodka and adrenaline had worn off and I felt cold, ragged and annoyed. I stood in front of Alex, blocking his view of the TV. ‘Call Sean and he’ll tell you what happened. I was attacked last night 79
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 80
leighredhead
and we were shot at today. He wants you to take me to his house.’ When he didn’t react I said, ‘Okay, just give me the key and tell me the address.’ A hand gripped my upper arm, pulling me back. Suzy was small but she was strong. There was scotch on her breath and steel in her eyes. ‘For the last time, slutbag, stay away from Alex. He’s not fucking interested.’ Slutbag? I tried to shrug her off but she held on tight, fingernails digging in. The other detectives watched with interest. This was better than the WWF. ‘Let go of me.’ I pushed her and it was all the provocation she needed. I’d seen bitchfights at my country high school. Girls on the back oval at lunchtime, brawling over some guy. The whole school crowding around to watch as they pulled each other’s hair, scratching and spitting, uniforms riding up. This was nothing like that. Suzy punched me in the mouth with a left jab, swung a hard right, and I fell to the polished floorboards like a bag of shit.
80
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 81
chapterthirteen
I
lay on the backseat of Alex’s car. ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’ he asked. ‘Three. Ow. Fuck my face hurts.’ ‘You’ll be okay. I’ll take you to Elwood, then Sean’s.’ Suzy snorted. She was standing on the footpath, glaring.‘Can’t you see that’s exactly what she wants? You’re playing right along with her little game.’ ‘Give it a rest, Suze. I’m going to make sure she’s alright and persuade her not to press charges.You know what an assault rap can do to your career.’ ‘Make sure you don’t accidentally slip your dick in when you’re kissing her goodnight.’ She stalked back into the pub. ‘Suzy doesn’t like me much, does she?’ Alex didn’t answer. 81
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 82
leighredhead
When we got to Fitzroy the sky was indigo and the air smelled of wood smoke. Sean lived in a big terrace off Brunswick Street. Pink and white daisy bushes rioted in the tiny front yard and ivy climbed a balustrade of rusting wrought iron. Alex let me into a tiled hall and we walked past the stairs and into a ground floor flat. ‘You lie here.’ He steered me to an old couch.‘I’ll get your bed ready.’ What do you know. All I needed was a head injury for Alex to be nice to me. He opened a built-in cupboard and took a pile of sheets, blankets and pillowcases into the spare room. I put my hands behind my head and checked out Sean’s living area. A speckled countertop separated it from the kitchen, behind which was the spare room, a back balcony remodelled into a sunroom. Swivelling my head left I saw two doors opposite the couch, presumably Sean’s room and the bathroom. The place looked like it had been converted to a flat back in the seventies and still had the original ceiling roses and a bay window overlooking the street. Sean’s furniture was mismatched and old, but everything was neat. A big bookcase took up one wall and the others were covered with black and white posters of jazz musicians. Miles Davis, Billie Holiday, others I didn’t recognise. Another shelf was full of CDs and records.You didn’t see much vinyl these days. I searched the room and realised he didn’t have a TV. Gosh.What if I wanted to watch Dr Phil? Alex came back through the kitchen. ‘All done.’ I hoisted myself into a sitting position. ‘I’m going to take a shower.’ ‘I’d better stick around,’ he said. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Just in case you fall over and crack your head on the tiles.’ 82
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 83
rubdown
‘Sure.Want to rustle me up some painkillers?’ I showered, then wiped condensation off the mirror. My lips had puffed up like Angelina Jolie’s and a black line was developing under my left eye. Purple bruises ringed my biceps courtesy of balaclava guy and my limbs were scratched after the escape from Clayton. My head, hell, my whole body ached. I changed into PJs—thin grey trackies and a white singlet and found Alex in the spare room holding a glass of water and two Panadeine Fortes. I climbed into the single bed. Neatly stacked and labelled boxes crowded the room. A folded ironing board leaned against a wall, and a ten speed bike. Alex reached over and fiddled with the blankets. It took a while to realise he was actually tucking me in. I swallowed the tablets and handed him the empty glass.‘How about a real drink?’ ‘Not a good idea on top of the painkillers.’ I gave him a look. He went to the kitchen and I heard the freezer door open and ice cubes tinkle on glass. He returned with vodka for both of us and sat on the end of the bed. I plumped the pillows and sat up. ‘You know I learned more about you talking to Sean today than I have in the last five months.’ ‘What did he tell you?’ ‘That you’d been to uni, played in the police band.’ Alex shook his head, embarrassed. ‘What did you study at uni?’ ‘Criminology. No big deal.’ ‘How long have you played piano?’ He looked up at the ceiling. ‘Dunno. Since I was five.’ ‘Tell me about your family.Where did you grow up?’ ‘Nothing to tell. Grew up in Brunswick. Three brothers, one sister. All these questions.You sound like a shrink.’ ‘I have to ask ’cause you don’t tell me a thing.’ ‘Play my cards close to my chest. It’s a cop thing.’ 83
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 84
leighredhead
‘Sean doesn’t do it.’ ‘Sean’s different from most cops.’ ‘’cause he’s gay?’ Alex laughed. ‘Sean’s not gay.’ ‘What? What about the gym?’ ‘He was just fucking with them. Sure, he’s not exactly an alpha male but he’s definitely hetero. Has a lot of gay friends, which is probably how the rumours started, but he doesn’t give a shit what dicks like McPherson think.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘I’ve known him for ten years, met his girlfriends. I even asked him once. Typical Sean, he said he would, but penises scare the shit out of him. Jeez, Simone, is your gaydar out or what?’ Woah. Not gay. I tried to think about what that might mean but my head began to feel like a helium balloon after someone let go of the string. Either I was slipping into a coma or the Panadeines were combining nicely with the vodka and empty stomach. I stared into space, enjoying the mellow codeine rush. ‘I didn’t want to take you upstairs at the Hilton for a quick screw,’ Alex said suddenly. ‘It was a mistake. I thought that was what you wanted.’ I sipped my drink, then set it on a tea chest next to the bed. ‘Why would you think that?’ ‘The way you act.You come across as smartarse and cynical, like you don’t give a shit.’ ‘So do you.’ He didn’t answer, just picked imaginary fluff off the blanket. ‘I bet you’re the kind of guy who’s never without a girlfriend,’ I said.‘Am I right? I bet even when you broke up with your wife you had someone waiting in the wings.’ He rubbed his face and stared at the ironing board. 84
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 85
rubdown
‘You’re thirty-five, mate. Time to get your shit together. Don’t stay with someone just ’cause you’re scared of being alone.’ He turned to me. ‘Like you’re so perfect.’ ‘Hardly.’ I reached for the vodka and tipped it over. He moved the glass out of my reach. ‘I’ve got to go.’ ‘Don’t,’ I protested. Everything was fuzzy around the edges. He bent to say goodbye and I clung to his neck and kissed him fiercely. It felt like the pain in my lips was a long way away. I know I said I didn’t want to crack onto another chick’s boyfriend, but since the bitch punched me all bets were off. I yanked the blankets back and pulled Alex on top of me, got my hand inside his shirt, fingers stroking chest hair and the puckered bullet scar on his shoulder. His stubble scratched my cheek as he kissed me back, breath hot and sweet. I hooked my feet behind his thighs, lifted my hips and pressed myself into his crotch. He was hard and my tracksuit fabric was thin and it was like we were really doing it, and then…
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows, trackie daks intact and an intense dream lodged in my mind. I’d been lying on the filthy carpet in the Clayton flat, naked, rolling around with Alex and Sean. They’d been fully clothed, each sucking on a nipple, both with their hands between my thighs. I’d been unbearably turned on and only mildly perturbed by the other people in attendance: Neville and Craig,Wu Chan, the Wades, Veronica, Billy Chevelle, Lulu and Suzy. Everyone watched politely except for Suzy, who said,‘See, I told you she was a slutbag.’ I got up to pee only to find the door to the bathroom closed and the shower running. Sean must have got home after I crashed. I held it in and hopped around the kitchen looking for a water glass. The 85
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 86
leighredhead
first thing that struck me was the amount of food in the pantry. Brown rice, couscous, tinned artichokes, extra virgin olive oil and imported vinegars. I opened the fridge and found a crisper bursting with fresh vegetables and a bunch of basil carefully wrapped in damp kitchen paper. Exotic condiments crowded the shelves: tamarind paste, harissa, caperberries, rocket pesto … The cheese was Gouda, the bread Burgen Soy/Linseed and, astoundingly, a packet of organic tofu at the back of the fridge was still within its use-by date. This was crazy. Single straight detectives didn’t live like this. I plucked a bottle of mineral water from the fridge door and found a tumbler in the cupboard under the sink, right next to a small bowl containing a hash pipe and mulled-up weed. Shit. I heard the bathroom door open, popped up and leaned on the counter casual-like, pouring water. Sean emerged from the bathroom in a mist of steam and aftershave, something fresh and citrusy, with a hint of cinammon and warm apple pie. Was there a compulsory class on smelling good at detective school? ‘Hey,’ I said. He smiled when he saw me.‘How’d you sleep?’ He walked over with a white towel wrapped around his waist and I saw that although he wasn’t a big guy he had a wiry muscularity about him. Broad shoulders,washboard stomach,well defined arms.There was also the matter of the trail of red-gold hair disappearing into the towel. Not gay. Scared of penises. I wasn’t scared of penises—in fact they could be a lot of fun. Trying to remind myself that men were more than just sex objects, I looked up. ‘What was the question?’ ‘Sleep.’ ‘Good.’ When he reached the counter he said, ‘What happened to your face?’ ‘Suzy was pissed and punched me out.’ 86
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 87
rubdown
‘Scrag fight? Dead sexy.’ He saw my look.‘Sorry, been up half the night putting together this raid.’ ‘Tell me about it after I shower.’ I peed, showered quickly and dressed in black stretch hipsters and a red jumper that fell rather fetchingly off one shoulder. I whacked on a bit of makeup and told myself I would have done the same if Sean hadn’t turned out to be straight.When I left the bathroom he was dressed in a suit and was pouring tea from a pot and eating a bowl of beige slop. ‘That top looks great on you.Want some porridge?’ I shook my head. ‘Tell me about the raid.’ ‘Not much to tell. We’re going to keep them under surveillance from the airport, wait until they set up for business and then we pounce.’ ‘You in charge?’ ‘No. I would be, but I’m taking a six month sabbatical Friday week.Won’t be here to see the case through.’ ‘Studying?’ ‘Not exactly.’ He washed his bowl and spoon and set them on the dish rack. ‘I’ve received an Asialink Fellowship and I’m going to Vietnam for six months to help out in a regional police station.’ He tipped the dregs of his tea out in the sink, rinsed the pot and the cup. ‘Anyway, love you and leave you. Here’s a spare key, help yourself to anything, not sure when I’ll be back.’ He picked a Converse bag off the floor and opened the door. ‘Wait! Where’s the coffee?’ ‘Don’t have any sorry, got tea.’ I must have looked aghast. ‘Mario’s is just around the corner.’ And he shut the door and was gone. Mario’s. Shit. I’d been supposed to meet Lulu there the day before. 87
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 88
chapterfourteen
I
phoned the GT Club.‘Can I speak to Lulu please?’ Marla’s voice.‘She’s not here. First time she’s been rostered on and didn’t show.’ ‘You have her home or mobile number? I’m a friend.’ ‘I don’t care who you are.We don’t give out the girls’ private numbers.Won’t do you any good, anyway. She’s not home and her mobile’s switched off.’ I rang Hannah to see if she knew how to contact Lulu. ‘No idea. If you had Tammy’s mobile you’d be right, it was like her address book. And can you give Vincent a call? He’s anxious to know how you’re getting on.’ I called Vincent and arranged to meet him at his home in Richmond at midday. By this stage my head was pounding from caffeine withdrawal and I race-walked up Brunswick Street, making a beeline for the red neon Mario’s sign. 88
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 89
rubdown
I hadn’t been to the café in over two years.When I first moved to Melbourne I’d lived around the corner on Napier Street, but six months of share house politics had sent me screaming over the Yarra, vowing to live alone the rest of my days. Mario’s hadn’t changed. Posters and flyers plastered one wall, fifties light fittings hung from the ceiling, and tiny televisions broadcast silently in black and white. I sat on a stool at a counter facing the window and ordered. In less than a minute a waiter with a pinstriped waistcoat and interesting sideburns slid a vicious looking double shot long black in front of me. Medicine. Two sips later the headache receded and the neurons started to fire. I pulled out my small black and red notebook and started scribbling. I needed to get a handle on this case, I needed a plan. First I wrote down things I knew for sure: I knew Neville, Craig and Wu Chan were setting up an illegal brothel. I knew Tammy had money problems, owed some to Craig. I knew Neville was a ruthless criminal. I knew I’d been attacked. I knew Tammy was dead. Then I jotted things I suspected, questions to myself: she had the brochure—had Tammy had found out about the illegal brothel? Would she be dumb enough to extort money from Neville Annis? How could someone have killed her and made it look like suicide? Had someone driven her to kill herself? Was that even possible? Lastly I devoted a page to things I had to do. Find out more about Tammy. Hopefully I could do that talking to Lauren, Hannah’s massage girl, the next day. Track down Lulu. She was Tammy’s best friend. She was the key. I traced Lulu’s name over and over again with my pen. I kept coming back to the fight she had with Billy Chevelle at the funeral. I remembered that Vincent had said Tammy had family problems. How connected was Billy to the Wade family? 89
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 90
leighredhead
The omelette I’d ordered arrived and I put my notebook aside and sliced it down the middle. Cheese oozed out of the moist interior and I thought, god bless you, Dr Atkins, wherever you are. I stared at the Greek restaurant and an office supplies store across the street, saw a tram rattle by. I considered researching Billy Chevelle. I could waste a whole day going through newspaper archives, but what I really needed was the stuff that wasn’t fit to print. I hated to have to do it, but I reached for my mobile. Curtis answered on the second ring. ‘Hey, Simone! What can I do you for?’ ‘Scratch my back.’ ‘Cool. I knew this would work out great.What you need?’ ‘Information on Billy Chevelle. Dirt. The stuff you journos can’t print for fear of defamation. And anything else you can find on the Wades while you’re at it.’ ‘I knew there was something suss going on.’ ‘Don’t get your hopes up. One of Tamara’s old clients can’t accept that she killed herself. I’m going to prove to him she did.’ I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. ‘What’s Billy Chevelle got to do with it?’ ‘Probably nothing. Can you get the info or not?’ ‘Ye-es … but you’ve got to do something for me.’ ‘What, Picture spread?’ ‘No, if this turns into something big I want an exclusive.You have no idea how hard it is to break into true crime in this town. If your name’s not John Silvester or Andrew Rule they don’t want to know you. But if I had something no one else did, man, those bastards at The Age would beat down my door.’ I sighed. ‘Sure, I’ll give you the story.’ ‘Good, let’s meet up in a couple of days. Hey, I started driving for Chloe.’ 90
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 91
rubdown
‘How’s it going?’ ‘I don’t know.Your friend’s weird.’ Sounded about right. I looked down at my notebook and saw Lulu’s name standing out. How to find her? The Good Times Club would have her number, perhaps her address, but it would be suicide to show my face there. The only thing I could think of was what Hannah said. Tammy’s mobile phone. The removalists had taken her stuff to the parents’ house. Jesus. Did I dare? Emery would be at work. Susan Wade might be home. Art students walked past on Brunswick Street, and junkies and yuppies. Stupid motivational platitudes floated through my brain. He who hesitates is lost. Who dares wins. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I started humming ‘Eye of the Tiger’. I was going in.
I paid thirty-seven bucks to get my car out of the World Trade Centre car park then cruised through South Melbourne and onto Beaconsfield Parade. I’d gotten the Wades’ Brighton address from my copy of Emery’s contract. The Indian summer of the day before had given way to more typical Melbourne weather. Clouds scudded across the sky and one second it was warm, the next freezing cold.Wind shook the palm trees and whipped the bay into foamy grey peaks. Riders and rollerbladers persevered along the bike path next to the shore, rugged up in leggings and jackets. I had the radio switched to Triple J until St Kilda, when they started playing god-awful Australian rap and I slipped in a tape of my favourite band, Doug Mansfield and the Dust Devils. Doug 91
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 92
leighredhead
sang, ‘I don’t follow trouble, trouble follows me,’ and I considered adopting it as my own personal anthem. In Brighton I turned right off St Kilda Street onto a road that ran down to the beach.All the houses were huge,set back from the street, and there were a lot of big old trees. I hated to think how much a joint here would cost. More than I could afford in ten lifetimes. The Wades’ place was right down the end, with one side facing the road and the other the ocean. It was a restored Federation house on a double block with a sweeping verandah and a spiky iron fence. I parked outside, found the gate locked, pressed a button on the intercom and checked out the front yard while I waited. Delicate white roses bordered an expanse of soft green lawn, a willow tree shaded a carved stone bench and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Hugh Grant had bounded out holding a croquet mallet and invited me for a game. Just as I decided no one was home, the box crackled into life: ‘Hello.’ A woman’s voice. ‘Mrs Wade?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I’m terribly sorry to drop by unannounced—’ my voice had gone all plummy to fit the surroundings—‘but I’m one of the investigators your husband hired in the matter of your daughter. My name is Simone Kirsch.’ A long pause. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘There’s something I’d like to ask you, but I’d rather not talk about it out on the street.’ A longer pause, then a buzz and the gate swung in. I crunched up the gravel drive and onto a wide verandah composed of thousands of tiny hexagonal tiles in ochre and dark green. Mrs Wade waited behind the security door, peering through the bars. She was in her fifties, slender and drawn, with a blonde bob and skin so thin that purple veins fluttered at her temples.When I looked into her 92
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 93
rubdown
pale blue eyes I realised why her reactions were slowed down. Her pupils were pinned, like a smackie’s, but my guess was a truckload of prescription downers. ‘Mrs Wade, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I met Tamara during the course of my investigations and I liked her. She was a nice girl.’ Susan Wade smiled in a vague sort of way and brushed a nonexistent lock of hair from her forehead. I spoke slowly so she could keep up.‘A friend of Tamara’s has gone missing and I’m worried. I need a phone number to track her down and the only way I can do that is by taking a look at Tamara’s mobile. Is it here with her things?’ ‘I don’t know. There are quite a few boxes.’ ‘Would it be possible for me to look through them? I’ll find the number and be out of your way before you know it. It would be a big help.’ ‘I’d better call my husband.’ Shit. No way would Emery Wade want me poking around his house.‘Uh, I’ve just been around to his office and he said he’d like to help in any way he could.’ ‘Oh.’ She reached down and unlocked the door, hand moving like an astronaut’s in zero gravity. ‘Just this way.’ Susan Wade wore a cream silk blouse tucked into tan trousers, cream pumps and fine gold jewellery. My boots sank into the plush carpet as I followed her down the hall and past a lounge room straight out of a magazine. Beige leather couches faced each other over a designer coffee table and adjacent was the biggest flat screen TV I’d ever seen. French doors overlooked the ocean and I glimpsed a glass cabinet in the corner, a shrine to Blaine full of trophies, ribbons and a framed photograph of him and Veronica at the Brownlow Medal ceremony. All that was missing was fruit and incense. And pictures of Tamara. I couldn’t see one. 93
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 94
leighredhead
She led me through a granite and stainless steel kitchen to a side door that opened in to a double garage. A white Lexus was parked on the far side and a folded-up treadmill leaned against the back wall. Spades, trowels and secateurs hung on a perforated backboard and eight cardboard cartons were stacked next to them. ‘I was going to put them into storage, but Emery said I should just throw them away. I wanted to go through them first, but…’ she trailed off. ‘I won’t be long.’ She looked at the boxes like she was going to say something, then wandered away. The cartons were labelled: clothing, kitchen, bathroom. I found one marked ‘miscellaneous’, hefted it to the ground and ripped off the tape. The great god of private investigators was surely smiling down upon me because Tammy’s mobile phone and charger were right on top. I’d just picked them up when a loud metallic clank made me jump. A mechanism set into the roof was lifting the rollerdoor. A pair of polished brogues appeared, then the legs of a navy suit. I shoved the phone and charger in my bag and prayed it was just a well dressed gardener. But I knew it was Emery Wade.
94
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 95
chapterfifteen
‘W
hat the hell are you doing in my garage?’ Emery boomed and the words reverberated around the concrete space. ‘Searching for a phone number.’ My top lip trembled as I tried to keep my voice together. ‘Your wife let me in.’ ‘Susan. Susan! Get in here.’ She came through from the kitchen, hands floating around the delicate gold chain on her neck. ‘Why did you let her in? What in god’s name were you thinking?’ ‘She said it was alright with you.’ Emery almost smiled as he stepped towards me, pointing his index finger. ‘False pretences. Unlawful entry. Lying to a grieving mother. I’ll have you struck off.’ ‘Can I just explain what’s—’ 95
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 96
leighredhead
‘Step away from that box. Get your grubby hands off my daughter’s things. You won’t just lose your licence, I’ll have you arrested. Susan, call the police.’ She looked around as if the neighbours were watching. ‘Are you sure that’s necessary?’ ‘Christ, I’ll do it myself.’ He pulled a tiny silver mobile from his jacket pocket and dialled triple 0. My heart was pounding. This was really not a good time for me to be in jail. I hung my head and looked resigned, and as soon as he was caught up reciting the address I made a run for it, bolting past him and out the garage. He lunged and grabbed my sleeve, but I didn’t slow down and it snapped out of his grasp like a giant rubber band. His Audi was parked in the drive, the gate still open, and I sprinted straight through with Emery right behind. I ran for my car, but he was so close there was no time to unlock it and I veered off at the last minute, running toward St Kilda Street. I quickly outpaced him thanks to my relative youth and bi-weekly canalside jogs, and when I got to the main road I stopped and looked back, sucking in air and wiping sweat from my brow. Emery began limping and stopped halfway down the street. He was bent at the waist yelling into his mobile, one hand grasping his side. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I lifted my arm, smiled and waved. His laser-beam glare cut through me from a hundred metres. I jogged up St Kilda Street, wondering how long the police would take and cursing my bright red jumper with no tshirt underneath. Looking around for a cab I saw the 600 bus lumber toward Elwood and ran to the next stop, hailed it and jumped on. So much for a benevolent PI-protecting deity. My sleeve was stretched into a gorilla arm and the cops were on my tail. 96
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 97
rubdown
And then I thought, how the hell did Emery know I was in his garage? I changed buses in St Kilda for the 246 to Richmond. As we rumbled up Punt Road I tried Tamara’s phone and my heart sank. There was a bit of charge left, but it was asking me for a PIN number. How could I have been so stupid? I’d risked my licence and livelihood for nothing. I almost burst into tears, but breathed deeply and talked myself down. Phones were stolen and rebirthed all the time. There had to be someone in this town who could unlock the damn thing for me.
Vincent’s place was off Bridge Road on a street full of freshly painted workers’ cottages with neat little gardens. Until you got to his house. It was twice the size of the others, rendered in a white pebbly substance, with Corinthian columns supporting the porch roof. Orange tiles blanketed the front yard and two concrete lions guarded the steps. Vincent answered the door wearing slacks, slippers and a patterned jumper he must have stolen from Bill Cosby back in the eighties. He clasped my hand in both of his and motioned for me to follow as he waddled down a hall full of fussy, gilt edged antiques. The patio at the back of the house looked out onto a garden with fruit trees and vegetables planted in neat rows. Grapevines twined the fence and a white rabbit nibbled on a celery stick in a wood and wire hutch. I sat opposite him at a white wrought iron outdoor setting. ‘Great garden.’We’d had a big vege patch when I was growing up but you didn’t see many in the inner city. ‘It gives me great pleasure. Coffee?’ ‘Black, please.’ 97
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 98
leighredhead
He shuffled off to the kitchen and returned with a silver percolator, espresso cups and a plate of biscotti. He poured coffee and the cup and saucer rattled as he passed it over. He stared at me. ‘Your face?’ I’d checked my makeup on the bus. Purple bruises showed through the foundation, but my lips had deflated. Pity. I’d liked my Hollywood pout. ‘Ran into a door,’ I said and changed the subject.‘You may be right about Tammy. There’s definitely something going on.’ He tonged four lumps of sugar into his tiny cup and stirred. ‘Neville?’ ‘Craig, a woman named Wu Chan and he are setting up an illegal brothel and flying in women from China. Tammy may have known about it and tried to get money from them in return for keeping quiet. Would she do something like that?’ I took a sliver of biscotti just to be polite, bit off a fragment and sipped the espresso. It dissolved on my tongue in a nutty, sugary mess. Divine. He shrugged. ‘She always need money. Ask me to loan two hundred thousand.’ ‘Two hundred grand? What for?’ ‘To buy apartment. Too much. I could not give.You tell police about Neville?’ His hands shook as he lifted his cup. ‘Yep. They’re going to follow them from Tullamarine on Wednesday. Get evidence and make the bust.’ ‘You know Neville kill Tammy?’ ‘No, I don’t. I have no proof she was blackmailing him and I just can’t see how someone would have got into her flat.’ ‘Is something he could do. Is clever. And evil.’ ‘Don’t like him much, do you?’ He drained his coffee, ambled over to the hutch and pulled out the rabbit. He held it close to his chest and stroked the fur between its ears.‘Twenty years ago my son, Paolo, is involved with 98
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 99
rubdown
Neville, bringing in the drugs from Thailand. My wife and I, we know nothing until we see him captured on the television.’ ‘Busted in Bangkok?’ He nodded. ‘Neville tell Thai police Paolo have drugs.’ ‘Why the hell would he do that?’ ‘So others with large amounts get through.’ ‘What happened to your son?’ ‘Sentenced, twenty years. He die in prison after ten.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ Vincent ran his finger up and down the rabbit’s nose. Its little pink eyes were closed. I asked if he knew Tammy’s mobile code or where I could find Lulu, but he shook his head and placed the rabbit back in the cage. ‘You said Tammy had family troubles.What exactly? Was Billy Chevelle involved?’ ‘She not like any of them. She say they look down on her. Like a putana. She say they, hypo…’ ‘Hypocrites?’ ‘Yes.’ He stood in front of me.‘You do good work. I give you something before you go.’ Something turned out to be a plastic bag full of zucchini, carrots, beans and radicchio. On the way back through the house he filled another bag with red wine and coffee beans and handed me a small velvet box with an ugly gold brooch nestled inside. ‘You’ve been generous enough. I can’t take all this.’ ‘You take,’ he insisted and closed the door behind me.
99
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 100
chaptersixteen
B
ack at Sean’s I rustled up a sort of potato free salad niçoise using Vincent’s beans, tuna from the pantry and some organic free range eggs I found in the fridge. I was exhausted from the last few days and felt like vegging out in front of the TV, but since there wasn’t one I checked out the bookshelf instead. It was an interesting mix, and alphabetised like the CDs, which was a bit of a worry. Margaret Atwood, Li Cunxin, Milan Kundera, Jung Lee, Susanna Moore, John Steinbeck, Christos Tsiolkas, and Irvine Welsh were all lined up neatly. The bottom shelves were given over to language texts and a whole bunch of novels written in some Asian language I couldn’t identify. I was more of a crime fiction girl myself. Couldn’t get into a book unless someone died grotesquely in the first fifty pages. I tipped Welsh’s Ecstasy from the shelf, flopped on the couch, 100
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 101
rubdown
with my ankles on the armrest, and started reading about a morgue worker having sex with a corpse. Next thing I knew it was dark and I was woken by a door closing and the rustle of plastic bags. Sean switched on a lamp with a tassled orange shade and I struggled into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. ‘Sorry to wake you.’ He set the bags on the kitchen counter. ‘S’okay.What’s the time?’ ‘Six.’ ‘Shit. I’ve been out four hours.’ ‘Must have needed it. How was your day?’ he asked, unpacking groceries. ‘What’s in that brown paper bag?’ ‘Bottle of merlot.’ ‘Pour me a glass while I have a shower and I’ll tell you all about it.’ I showered quickly, washing off dried sweat from the chase in Brighton, brushed my teeth and jumped into jeans and a faded Mickey Mouse t-shirt. I put on a little makeup—just for myself you understand—mascara, lipliner and translucent powder to take away the shine. When I left the bathroom Sean was standing at the kitchen counter, shirtsleeves rolled up, brandishing a chef ’s knife and one of Vincent’s zucchinis. ‘Can I use this?’ ‘What for?’ He opened his eyes wide and waggled the vegetable. ‘Girlfriend!’ For a straight boy he sure could act camp. Ella Fitzgerald was on the stereo and the faint smell of marijuana hanging in the air reminded me of my childhood. He handed me an oversized wine glass half full of red, we clinked and I took a sip. Smooth and plummy. I wasn’t in cask-town anymore. 101
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 102
leighredhead
‘So what did you get up to?’ he asked. ‘The usual. Entered a premises under false pretences, lost my car, ran from the police.What you making?’ ‘Tofu vegetable stirfry. Not too healthy for you?’ ‘I ate worse growing up with hippies in the hills near Byron.’ ‘You grew up with hippies?’ ‘Uh-huh.’ ‘And now you’re a PI.’ ‘Who tried to become a police officer. The only way I could rebel was to do something really straight.You want a hand with that?’ I nodded to the veges laid out on the counter. ‘Sure.’ He cleared space on the thick wooden chopping board, handed me a red capsicum and slid a knife out of a stainless steel block. ‘Can I trust you with this?’ ‘Kitchen monkey was one of my many crap jobs. I think I can wrangle this vegetable.’ We sliced and julienned side by side, sipping wine and tapping our feet to Ella and the big band doing ‘Lady is a Tramp’. Occasionally our arms brushed but Sean didn’t seem to notice. He asked about the rest of my crap jobs and I told him the whole sorry story. Waitressing, prawn trawling, checkout chick, peepshow girl, almost finishing an arts degree. He told me that before he moved to Australia his parents had had a jazz band and gigged around the UK and Europe, his mother singing and his father playing guitar. His dad had run off with an Italian woman after a show in Pisa and Sean hadn’t seen him since. ‘That’s terrible.’ ‘He’s tried to contact us, just in the last couple of years, but I don’t want anything to do with him.’ ‘What’s your mother doing now?’ ‘She’s brilliant. Remarried and runs a singing school. What about your parents?’ 102
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 103
rubdown
‘They divorced when I was five. Dad lives in America doing something with computers—never could work out what exactly. My mum’s a professor at Sydney uni, women’s studies. Actually, I think they call it Gender Studies these days. Brother’s a model. He’s gay.’ ‘A model, seriously?’ ‘Yeah. Based in New York. Travels all over. Jasper totally scooped the family gene pool.’ ‘Come on, Simone, you didn’t do too bad yourself.’ He bumped my waist with his hip. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me in high school. Chunky and spotty with an assortment of unfortunate haircuts. I wasn’t that popular with the boys.’ ‘At least you weren’t a skinny, redheaded music nerd.’ ‘I’m sure you’ve made up for lost time since becoming a hot shot detective.’ He put on a tough-cop voice. ‘You better believe it, baby.’ The vegetables were all chopped and stacked on a plate. He put brown rice and cold water on the stove. Absorption method. Good. Meant we still had forty minutes of drinking time. I leaned on the counter and elaborated on my day.When I got to the part about Wade chasing me up the street Sean cracked up laughing and grabbed the pantry door for support. ‘It’s not funny.’ I started laughing too. ‘I’m in deep shit.’ ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Look, I’ll check the computers tomorrow and see if Wade’s put in a complaint.And I’ll help you get your car back.’ ‘Thanks. Hey, you know how to unlock a mobile?’ I dug Tammy’s phone out of my bag and handed it over. He pressed a series of buttons and gave it back unlocked. ‘Cool. Is that something they teach you in detective school?’ ‘Nah. I just tried 1234.You’d be surprised how many people use it for a PIN.’ 103
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 104
leighredhead
I could have kicked myself. I went into the names section, selected ‘search’ and typed in ‘Lulu’. There were two numbers: a home and a mobile. The home phone rang out and a recorded message told me the mobile was switched off or out of range. You could buy a CD-ROM of the white pages that worked like a reverse directory: type in a number and the corresponding address popped up. Or you could ask your friendly neighbourhood senior constable after he’d finished stirring the rice. ‘Piece of piss,’ Sean said, ‘but you have to do something first.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘Dance with me.’ He plucked the wine glass from my hand and led me to the middle of the lounge room, turning up the music on the way. It was the Gershwin tune, ‘S’Wonderful’. ‘For real?’ ‘You’re an ex-stripper. Surely it’s not beyond you to bust the occasional move?’ He slid an arm round my waist and twirled me about. I stepped on his feet. ‘Relax into it, let me lead.’ I closed my eyes and tried to go with the flow. The less I thought about it the better it worked. I rested my head against his shoulder and smelled the aftershave he’d put on that morning, muted and mixed with the warm scent of his skin.When the horn section got loud he spun me out and around a couple of times then back in tight. I had one hand on his shoulder and my other palm on his shirt, feeling his firm chest beneath the thin white fabric. His fingers had slipped from my waist to my hips, found their way to the gap of flesh between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my low slung jeans. I felt each separate fingertip sear into my skin. I said, ‘So this is what people do when they don’t have television,’ trying to sound flippant even though my stomach was fluttering right up into my throat. I had always thought old time 104
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 105
rubdown
dancing was wholesome and chaste, something your grandparents did in between lawn bowls and attending church. Boy, had I been mistaken. Sean pulled me closer and crooned the words in my ear, hips swaying into me. He was hamming it up. Or maybe he wasn’t. My boobs pressed against his chest and I felt the temperature of his body surge like someone flicked a thermostat. ‘S’wonderful,’ he whispered, warm breath tickling my earlobe. ‘S’marvellous.’ He pulled back and looked at me. He was a couple of inches taller than I was, maybe five ten. I dragged my gaze from his perfectly formed lips to his blue-denim eyes. I closed mine and somehow our lips came together, then our tongues, melting in, all soft and buttery. Maybe I took too much bad acid in the nineties, but I fancied we were alone in a fifties dance hall, spinning around in slow motion, a mirror ball showering us with points of light. Then even that image disappeared and all I felt was liquid heat from Sean’s palm pressing the base of my spine and a warmth that bloomed and spread wherever our bodies converged. I’d had some great kisses in my time, but that one, shit. It took me outside myself, floating around some distant universe. Sean’s lips were narcotic and I’d definitely OD’d. A tinny electronic song interrupted my swoon. Louder and louder, impossible to ignore. Sinatra’s ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’, mobile phone style. Sean pulled his lips away and reality slapped me like a Narcan hit. Everything was grey and cold and smelled like boiled rice. I was seriously coming down. He dived across to the kitchen bench for the phone.‘Yep. Uhhuh. Be right there.’ I stood in the centre of the room, hugging myself as he gathered up his jacket and car keys. ‘What is it?’ 105
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 106
leighredhead
‘Sword fight outside a nightclub.’ ‘You’re shitting me.’ ‘I shit you not. Gotta go.’ ‘What about the stirfry?’ ‘Save me some.’ He winked. ‘And hold that thought.’
106
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 107
chapterseventeen
T
he next morning Sean still hadn’t come home. I’d been curious about such a terrific guy not having a girlfriend. Now I knew why. I schlepped around the kitchen in my PJs wondering how I was possibly going to make it up the road for coffee without first having a coffee when I opened the pantry door and realised I was in love. A packet of Lavazza and a single cup plunger sat on the middle shelf, tied together with the sort of cheap red bow you can buy from any newsagent. A small card with Garfield the cat in one of his wide eyed, manic moods hung from the ribbon and read, Don’t drink it all at once. He must have bought it the night before and stuck it in the cupboard while I was in the shower. A goofy grin sprouted on my face and stayed there while I brewed coffee and breakfasted on leftover stirfry. I played Ella Fitzgerald again and danced around 107
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 108
leighredhead
the kitchen thinking about the night and feeling all kind of sparkly. I wondered what time Sean was getting home. I wondered if I should buy something to cook that was healthy, but tastier than tofu. From the tuna in the pantry I deduced he wasn’t averse to fish. Maybe salmon, seared, on some kind of bok choy thing? And good wine. Champagne. Not the crap sparkling I usually guzzled. I could afford to live a little, still had nearly four grand. I could even afford a new top and maybe a blow dry. No, no blow dry. He was the type of guy who’d know I’d had one and realise I’d put in the effort. Shit. Life had been so much easier when he was gay. I showered, dressed in jeans, a black scoop neck t-shirt and denim jacket. Pulled my hair into a ponytail and stuck it through the back of a baseball cap. I’d get my car from Brighton when Sean got home and for now would tram it to Malvern to talk to Lauren the massage girl. Before I left I ducked into the bathroom and found a square glass bottle. Sean’s cologne. I spritzed a bit on my wrist so I could smell it through the day and be reminded of him. I liked to think this sort of behaviour was cute but probably it was borderline obsessive.
I was sitting on the burgundy suede-feel couch in Hannah’s waiting room, flicking through an astrology magazine while she made peppermint tea. My April horoscope indicated a career upheaval and warned of conflict and minor injuries when all I really wanted to hear was that I would win the lottery and shag myself silly with a succession of well built toy-boys. I tossed the magazine aside. The forty year old businessman on the couch opposite looked up from his National Geographic and smiled. I smiled back. 108
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 109
rubdown
A female voice floated down the hallway. ‘Great to see you too. Have a wonderful day.’ I heard the front door shut and then Rachel the budding financial guru poked her head into the waiting room. These girls sure got around. ‘Hi, Peter. Like to come through?’ He set his magazine on the side table and followed her into the hall. Today the scent in the oil burner was orangey and the music the sort that pygmies played on tiny flutes as they skipped around the Brazilian rainforest. Hannah returned with two mugs of tea and sat next to me on the lounge. Her red curls were gathered into a loose bun on top of her head and she wore orange drawstring pants and a cheesecloth top that fell off her freckled shoulders. ‘Lauren won’t be long. Her booking finishes in five then, she’s got half an hour to talk to you before the next one.’ ‘How’d you get into the handshake biz anyway?’ I blew on my tea. ‘My husband.’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘This may be hard to believe, but ten years ago I was really straight, married and living in Sydney. I worked as a nurse, he was an insurance assessor and we had a brick veneer on a quarter acre block in Parramatta.’ ‘Great Australian Dream.’ She lifted one corner of her mouth and folded her legs up under her. ‘I got sick one night during my shift and came home early. Ian wasn’t there. He showed up half an hour later, looking pretty surprised to see me. Said he’d been out for drinks after work but didn’t smell like alcohol. He smelled clean. Typical suspicious wife, I thought he was having an affair, so when he went to bed I looked through his wallet and found a card for a place called Mystic Liaisons.’ 109
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 110
leighredhead
I screwed up my face. ‘I know,’ Hannah said. ‘Who names these places?’ ‘Did you confront him?’ ‘No. Next day I went there to see what it was. I thought it would be a brothel, but there were no beds, and no sex was allowed. Just massage and hand relief.’ ‘What did you do?’ ‘Asked for a job.’ ‘No way.’ ‘Uh-huh. I was working when Ian came in for his regular five-thirty wank. I walked into the waiting room and introduced myself.’ I couldn’t help laughing. Hannah was turning out to be a total headcase. It was brilliant. ‘You should’ve seen his face. He grabbed his briefcase and ran out.When he called later they wouldn’t put him through. All the girls thought it was hilarious.’ ‘Did you break up with him?’ ‘Look, I was prepared to work things out.’ She pushed a stray ringlet of hair behind her ear. ‘I said if it was okay for him to go there, it was okay for me to work there. He didn’t agree. Then I found out from the other girls that he’d been a terrible customer. Always groping, hassling for extras. Funny, I could have forgiven him anything except being a bad client.We got divorced soon after, but I stayed massaging. It paid better than nursing and wasn’t nearly as messy. I actually started studying massage, then got into natural therapies as well.’ ‘How’d you end up in Melbourne?’ I sipped my herbal tea and the strong mint cleared out my nose. ‘Moved here five years ago. I’ve always loved the city, but the massage scene is terrible. Places like Bodyworld have six rooms but they’ll put on twenty girls. They encourage you to do blow jobs for 110
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 111
rubdown
an extra twenty and half the girls are doing full service. Most massage places in Sydney’ll fire you if they catch you doing oral or sex. I found the only places you could work without having to do extras were shitty downmarket brothels like Nev’s, where they have both services available, or illegal joints. Eventually I decided to open my own place.’ ‘Can’t you get a licence?’ ‘I’ve applied, but it’s hard. Takes over a year while they investigate your background and unless you’re buying an established premises you need a building in an industrial area, the owner’s permission if you’re renting and a green light from council, which is notoriously difficult to get. I’m looking around for a suitable venue and trying to get a contract pending council approval but, it’s practically impossible.’ I heard a door open and a statuesque girl with chin-length blonde hair and pouty lips appeared in the waiting room, her long legs poking out of a towel. ‘Lauren, this is Simone,’ Hannah said. ‘Hi, listen, Jonathon wants to extend for another half hour. Can we do this another time?’ ‘Later on this afternoon?’ I suggested. ‘Lauren’s booked out after this,’ she said. ‘What about when you knock off?’ ‘Boyfriend’s picking me up and we’re going straight to his folks’ house for tea.’ She chewed on her plump bottom lip. ‘Later in the week?’ ‘Speed really is of the essence.’ ‘Hang on, I’ve got an idea.’ She raced back to the room and came out a few seconds later.‘Jon doesn’t mind if we talk while I massage, he’s a regular of mine.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I think he’s kind of turned on by the idea.’ I thought about it for a moment. It was pretty damn 111
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 112
leighredhead
unprofessional, but I couldn’t remember anything in my class notes that expressly forbad inquiry agents from discussing a case in front of oiled up, naked men. Hannah and Lauren looked at me. Lauren must have mistaken my hesitation for nervousness, because she said,‘I heard you used to be a stripper. I thought you’d be cool with it.’ Yeah, I was cool. Like a frost free fridge. ‘What the hell,’ I said.
112
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 113
chaptereighteen
M
y eyes gradually adjusted to the dim orange lamplight and I made out a small room with heavy velvet curtains covering the windows and walls decorated with mirrors and framed Gustav Klimt prints. Thick green towels draped an ergonomic massage table and a man lay face down, buck naked, head in a hole. Lauren flung her towel onto a cane armchair and I saw she was pale and slender, boobs the size of mine but with pink puffy nipples. Feeling overdressed I removed my jacket. Then I crossed my arms and pretended to be interested in a ceramic oil burner. ‘Jonathon,’ Lauren said, ‘this is Simone.’ He lifted his head and smiled at me in the mirror on the wall in front of him. ‘So you’re the detective.’ He was in his early twenties with a gym toned body, tousled dark hair and straight white teeth. I’d been expecting someone fat, hairy and clad in a grubby raincoat. 113
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 114
leighredhead
‘Yeah. Thanks for letting me, um, stand in.’ ‘No worries. I don’t mind being in a room with two beautiful women. I know it’s warm in here, so feel free to take your clothes off if you want.’ ‘Jon!’ Lauren smacked his arse. ‘Don’t be cheeky. She’s not working.’ He grinned in a way that probably melted his mother’s heart and encouraged her to do his washing every week. ‘No harm in asking!’ Lauren grabbed a blue tinted glass container off the top of a lacquered Chinese cabinet, poured oil in her palm and propped the bottle between his legs. She rubbed her hands together and slicked it over his back in long strokes, from his buttocks to his neck. I stood there, rocking slightly on the balls of my feet, wondering what the penalties were these days for being busted on unlicensed premises. Lauren nodded at the oil. ‘Why don’t you do his legs?’ ‘What?’ ‘Seeing as you’re here, you might as well help out.You look silly standing there with your arms crossed.’ ‘Okay. But just the legs.’ ‘Alright!’ said Jonathon. I picked up the slippery bottle and rubbed oil between my hands, onto his mercifully clean feet and halfway up his thighs. Anything further was Lauren’s territory. Jonathon’s leg hair was rough on my fingers as I dug my thumbs into his calf muscle. ‘Feels great,’ he said. ‘So what do you want to know?’ Her hands moved in a practised fashion as if she didn’t have to think about what she was doing. ‘Were you and Tammy good friends?’ Absentmindedly she slid her fingers down between his legs 114
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 115
rubdown
and tickled his balls. He thrust his buttocks in the air, exposing his crack. ‘I wouldn’t say we were great friends.’ His arse kept rising, his back arched dangerously and his groin hovered a foot off the table. Not the most flattering angle for a man. I looked from his backside to Lauren and as I caught her eye a flood of giggles bubbled up my throat.We immediately looked away from each other but it was almost too late. From the corner of my eye I saw her shoulders silently shaking and I pursed my lips together, breathing deeply through my nose, desperately trying to stop a small mewling sound escaping my mouth. Jonathon was oblivious. After a few deep breaths and an in-depth study of the oriental rug, I was sufficiently composed to glance at Lauren again. Thankfully she’d moved up to his head and was massaging his shoulders while he stared at the bush in front of him like it might reveal the meaning of life. The airborne groin had settled back on the table. I cleared my throat. ‘So, not great friends.’ ‘No.We partied a lot, went clubbing.You know those friends you have that you probably wouldn’t be friends with if you didn’t take a whole heap of E’s together?’ ‘Tell me about it,’ said Jonathon. ‘That’s like, half the people I know.’ ‘Tammy ever talk about her life when she was all googly on E? Tell you about any problems she was having?’ I asked. ‘Not problems exactly.When she got out of it she liked to rave on about moving up the Gold Coast, starting her own business.’ ‘What sort of business?’ ‘Oh, massage, same as this. With the laws up there girls can work from their own homes. Tammy figured she could make twice the money, work half the time and spend the rest lying on the beach. Lulu was going to go up with her because there aren’t 115
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 116
leighredhead
many trannies apparently. Thought they’d have the market covered.’ Lauren tapped a metal pad on the floor with her foot and the table lowered. When it was knee height she jumped on, straddled Jonathon and slid her torso up and down his back, triceps tightening with the effort. He said, ‘Mmm.’ ‘She ever talk about buying an apartment?’ I asked. ‘All the time. She wanted to buy so she wouldn’t have to worry about hassles with landlords. They’re not too keen on giving permission to use their places for sex work. Then she found out that its illegal for more than one girl to work from the same flat, so she decided she’d buy two studio apartments. One for her, one for Lulu. She wanted to get a good business together, work till she was thirty-five then retire.’ ‘Where was she going to get the money for the property?’ ‘That’s the problem. Tammy was skint. She made a lot of money but it all went up her nose or down her throat. I saw her take ten E’s in a weekend once.’ ‘Five’s my record,’ Jonathon said. ‘I asked how she’d be able to afford it. She just smiled and said she had a plan.’ Lauren hopped off, pressed the pad and the table raised up. ‘You can turn over now, Jonathon.’ He twisted and lay on his back. His dick was standing to attention, taut and quivering. I rubbed his arches while she slathered it in oil.‘You ever work for Neville at Good Times?’ ‘No, but I’ve heard all about him.’ ‘Would Tammy ever try to extort money from him?’ Lauren’s short blonde waves bounced as she shook her head. ‘Tammy could get quite drug-fucked when she wanted to, but she wasn’t an idiot.’ She bent over and rubbed her boobs on Jonathon’s cock a few times, then took it in her hand and cooed,‘Oooh, it’s so 116
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 117
rubdown
big,’ which was, quite frankly, a bit of a lie. It did swell and go red, however, and I was glad I was down by the feet and not up at the business end. ‘You can touch it if you want,’ Jonathon said and gave me a look first patented by puppies in pet shops. ‘I’ll be right,’ I said. The flute playing pygmies had segued into Gomez’s ‘Tijuana Lady’ and I hummed along, rubbing Jon’s big toe with my thumb. I had some more questions to ask but figured now wasn’t really the time. Lauren tugged at his member, slowly at first, then faster and faster, her fist a blur, fingers squelching wetly. He scrunched his face and bucked his hips and I thought how odd it was to be observing a penis you had no emotional investment in. As Jonathon began to come, Lauren leaned back out of range. There must have been a fair bit of pressure building down there because the first spurt hit his chest and the next got him on the cheek. Lauren looked at me and I pursed my lips again and stared at his big toe. When he was done she wiped him down with tissues and sent him to the shower. While Lauren stripped towels from the table I wiped my hands with a Wet One. ‘You mentioned Lulu,’ I said. ‘Do you know where I could find her?’ ‘I don’t know where she lives or anything but she usually performs in the drag revue at the Greyhound on Saturdays. Me and Tammy went once and it was an absolute hoot. Lulu and this Asian trannie called Geisha did a song from The Mikado. Fuck it was funny.’ I shrugged into my jacket. ‘Did Tammy ever talk about her family?’ ‘No. I knew who her brother was, but she never spoke about it. Must be hard, having a relative who’s a sporting hero.’ 117
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 118
leighredhead
‘Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?’ ‘That’s it, sorry.Your best bet is to talk to her ex-boyfriend.’ ‘Tammy had a boyfriend?’ ‘Kind of. I don’t think they were exclusive.’ ‘Who is he? Where would I find him?’ ‘Name’s Damien Trentham. Deals a bit, E’s, speed, coke sometimes. I only met him a couple of times but my boyfriend recognised him from St Augustines. Apparently he was in the year below.’ ‘Private school?’ ‘Don’t look so surprised. Those rich kids get into the party scene early. They’ve got the money.You can usually find Damien at Wicked, the day club in Prahran, on Sunday mornings. Don’t tell him I put you onto him.’ ‘I won’t.’ ‘I want to help, you know. I’ve been thinking about Tammy a lot. I mean, maybe she’d run out of serotonin from all the pills she was taking and got real depressed, coming down. But she didn’t seem the type to kill herself. She was a fighter. Kicking against the pricks, she always said.’
118
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 119
chapternineteen
I
was on the train back to the city when Sean rang. ‘Lulu’s real name is Leon Rousseuu. She lives in Johnston Street, Abbotsford.’ I changed at Flinders Street for the Epping line and got off five stops later at Victoria Park. The station hovered above Johnston on a railway bridge and I scuffed down a concrete ramp twined with bell-like purple flowers and headed up the street, checking out numbers. I passed a chemist, newsagent and a takeaway that smelled like deep fried batter. The further I walked the more I noticed Johnston was a weird mix of stores selling expensive furniture and luxury cars, and deserted shops, doors padlocked and windows opaque with grime. Despite the looming council flats on Hoddle it was finally joining the gentrification boom. Kinda. 119
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 120
leighredhead
I buttoned my denim jacket. The temperature had dropped and the sky was thick with cloud. A dirty wind picked up, scraping rubbish along the footpath. A couple of old chip packets chased each other around my ankles and road grit blew into one eye. I stopped and blinked, stretched the lid so tears would wash it clean. As I stood there three skinny guys in nylon tracksuits left the pub and crossed the road to my side of the street. Their hoods were pulled up and their steps were bouncy, like the ground was one giant trampoline. I wiped a black speck from the corner of my eye, clutched my bag strap a little tighter, and strode on, head held high. Just because they were wearing ugly tracksuits didn’t mean they were going to mug me. Even junkies needed to get out for a stroll every now and then. Their eyes slid over me as they approached. I was almost past when one side-stepped in front of me, and I had to pull up short. ‘Chasin’?’ He had a face like a rat. A rat with a really nasty cold sore. ‘No thanks.’ I went to walk around him but another one was there, blocking my path. I felt the third move in behind me. Not for the first time in my life I wished I had studied martial arts from a very early age—say, six months. I felt like a baby antelope separated from the herd, hyenas closing in. ‘Then giss a dollar.’ The one to the side bobbed up and down, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. No way was I getting out my wallet. ‘Sorry.’ ‘Bitch.’ The one behind tugged at my bag. I spun around. ‘Get off!’ I was angry at the little twerps but I was also scared. Visions of blood filled syringes danced in front of my eyes. ‘Hey!’ Over the road a squat woman in widow’s black waddled out of the corner store, waving a straw broom.‘Leave the lady alone.’ 120
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:50 AM
Page 121
rubdown
They turned to her. ‘Fuck off, you old cunt.’ ‘I call the police on you. I do it!’ They lost interest in me and crossed the road to her. She shuffled back inside and locked the door. I figured she’d be okay and hurried down the block until I came to the number Sean had given me. It was an empty commercial space that had sold reconditioned fridges and washing machines, according to the sign. The door was chained and a pile of junk mail and free community newspapers mouldered on the step. A cobbled lane ran down the side of the building and when I checked it out I found a rusted spiral staircase that led to a flat over the shop. I checked to make sure the junkies weren’t following but they were leaning against the old woman’s store, smoking cigarettes. The steps wobbled and my boots made a tonging sound as I climbed. When I got to the top I could see roofs, aerials, and the high walls of Victoria Park football stadium. To my right Johnston Street bisected Yarra Bend Park, where the muddy river meandered past reserves and ovals. That band of green was all that separated Abbotsford from the exclusive suburbs of Hawthorn and Kew. Wherever you were in Melbourne, the riffraff were never far away. I raised my hand, knocked once and the door swung in a couple of inches. Not good. Really not good. Had I been a cool American PI I would simply have unholstered my gun, held it to my chest, and entered the flat sliding my back along the wall. Unfortunately the most dangerous thing I carried in my handbag was a plastic bottle of Mt Franklin spring water, so I stuck my ear in the gap, stayed very still and listened. Nothing. I pushed the door open, slow and quiet, and entered a hallway. The carpet was old and the floral wallpaper outdated, but it was otherwise neat. I rested my head against the wall, trying to pick 121
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 122
leighredhead
up sounds or vibrations. There was no movement or noise. So why was I scared? Soon as I asked, an image of Lulu dead, bloody and staring flashed into my mind. Jeez, I had to get a grip. I crept down the hall and peeked into a tiny laminex kitchen. Christ. Someone had turned the place over, wrenched cupboard doors off hinges and shattered crockery all over the floor. A packet of Nutrigrain appeared to have exploded and the old gas stove was lying on its side. The lounge room was the same. Shredded couch, broken lamp, shelf overturned and the white tiled bathroom was a mess of spilt shampoo and broken glass. Further down the hall I saw two closed doors. I opened the one at the end of the hallway first and let out a breath when I realised it led to a dusty flight of wooden stairs. The final door had to be to Lulu’s bedroom. I turned the handle slowly, steeling myself for the worst. Surveying the room, I gradually unclenched my fist, dragging the nails out of my palm. Thank god. Sure, the place was trashed, but there was no body. No dead, staring eyes. I picked my way past an upended ballerina jewellery box, torn clothes and disembowelled stuffed toys. The white canopy bed was in pieces, the mattress propped against the wall and razored open. Same with the broderie anglaise doona. A matching vanity was tipped over, drawers emptied. Posters of Britney, Beyoncé and even Blaine Wade were crumpled on the floor. My eyes watered from a broken bottle of Christian Dior’s Poison and I wondered what someone had been looking for and whether or not they’d found it. Had there been a struggle? Impossible to tell, but I hadn’t seen any blood. I was thinking Lulu had probably packed up and left before this happened until I saw the cosmetic case. It was the same one she’d had at the Good Times Club and all her pots and pencils were spilled on the floor. 122
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 123
rubdown
Would Lulu, who always had a face full of immaculately applied makeup, have gone anywhere, voluntarily, without it? Hell, I wouldn’t have, and I didn’t use half the gunk she did. I was turning to leave when I heard the soft but unmistakable creak of someone sneaking up the wooden stairs.
123
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 124
chaptertwenty
I
froze among the wreckage of Lulu’s room. Perhaps it had been the old wood, settling or something. Then I heard it again. Creak. Shuffle. My shoulders tightened until they were up against my ears. I had to get out of this room without making a sound and then run to the front door. Unless of course someone was creeping up the spiral staircase at the same time, in which case I was royally fucked. As I tiptoed through slaughtered teddies and broken glass the cheery, positive, ‘I Can Sing a Rainbow’ part of my brain tried to suggest it was Lulu coming up the stairs. The instinctive, prehistoric sector that hung out at the base of my skull disagreed, and was telling me to run like hell. I was almost at the doorway when my foot tapped the jewellery box, flipped it upright and the ballerina started spinning to the brittle strains of ‘Fur Elise’. Shit. 124
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 125
rubdown
Heavy boots shook the stairs. No more creeping. I grabbed the doorframe and propelled myself into the hall, glanced back once and almost shat myself. A massive figure hulked at the top of the wooden stairs in black motorcycle leathers and a full face helmet. Balaclava guy, no doubt. I sprinted off and he thundered up the hall behind me. Halfway through the front door he grabbed my forearm and spun me round. I pulled the door towards me then slammed it into his head. His helmet cushioned the blow but its weight threw him off balance for a second and he loosened his grip. I jerked away and flew down the stairs, three at a time, with him clanging right behind. In the laneway I felt a searing pain as he grabbed hold of my ponytail. I surged forward and felt my scalp burn as hairs were torn out from their roots. I ran onto Johnston Street, saw a police car across the road and darted through traffic towards it. Two uniformed cops had the junkies against a wall, patting them down for drugs, and I barrelled straight into the coppers, turning back, pointing to—nothing. There was no one there.
Back at Sean’s I pulled the Stoli from the freezer, filled a tumbler and forced half of it down. I found one Marlboro in a crumpled pack and took about a minute to light it. My hand was shaking so much the matches kept going out. The nicotine and alcohol worked. They usually did. My limbs stopped quivering and I could feel the blood slow down in my veins. I leaned my elbows on the kitchen counter and rested my forehead in my hands. That was it. I was through with this case. I’d add up the hours and give Vincent back the difference. By now I was convinced there was more to Tamara Wade’s death 125
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 126
leighredhead
than suicide, but was it worth dying for? No goddamn way. I knew instinctively that the guy in the motorbike helmet was the same one who’d worn the balaclava. Was it Craig Annis? I hoped so. After Wednesday Sean would have busted the lot of them and that would be the end of that. If it wasn’t Craig, then hell, maybe I’d have to move house, or go up to Sydney to stay with my mum until the whole thing had blown over. Her hassling me about finishing my degree and getting a nice, safe teaching job was a small price to pay for staying alive. I touched my scalp where he’d ripped the hair out and my fingers were speckled with tiny drops of blood. I was staring at them when Sean walked in. ‘What’s up?’ He hung his keys on a hook by the door and tilted his head. I held up my fingers. ‘Balaclava guy attacked me at Lulu’s. I only just got away.’ He came over and hugged me, which made me a bit teary, but I blinked the tears back. He loosened my ponytail gently and lifted up the hair to inspect the damage. ‘Bald patch about the size of a ten cent piece. I’ll get some antiseptic cream.’ He came back from the bathroom with Savlon and dabbed it on while I held my hair up. The sting flared, then subsided. I told him everything that had happened and he asked whether I’d informed the cops I’d run into. ‘No, I just apologised and walked away. I think they reckoned I was high on something. I thought if they got my name they’d arrest me.’ Sean shook his head and poured himself a drink. ‘I checked the system.Wade’s lodged a complaint about your conduct but it’s not like there’s a warrant out for your arrest, SWAT teams hunting you down.’ 126
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 127
rubdown
‘Good. But I’m through with this case. That’s the end. I’m going to let Vincent know tomorrow.’ ‘I’d be the last person to tell you how to run your life, but I have to say I’m relieved.’ He took off his jacket and hung it on the wooden coat rack by the door, dug around in the pocket and took out his mobile phone. ‘I’ll call through a missing persons report for Lulu. Get someone round to check her place out.’ While Sean made his phone call I had a shower to wash off the cold sweat and as the warm water streamed down my body I felt most of the fear and tension wash away. I hadn’t realised how wound up I’d been until I decided to drop the case. Now my shoulders felt light and my neck was loose. I had a twinge of guilt over not finishing what I’d started, but Jesus, you had to know where to draw the line. I dried off, changed into jeans and the green top that made my eyes look really blue, and put on a bit of makeup entirely for Sean’s benefit. I knew a very good way to rid myself of any residual tension. Maybe tonight I would ask him to dance. Sean sat on the couch, Julie London on the stereo, taking dope from the mull bowl and packing it into his brass pipe. I refilled my drink and sat cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. ‘Aren’t you worried about getting drug tested?’ ‘Never have been yet. Besides, I’m on leave from next Friday.’ He lit the pipe, screwed up his face as he inhaled it in one go and held in the smoke, tipping the detritus into the ashtray. ‘Want one?’ He offered me the pipe, smoke leaking from his mouth. I shook my head.‘Nah. First joint I ever had my mum offered me, turned me off for life.You got the raid all set up for tomorrow?’ ‘Oh yeah. All systems go.We’re gonna bust his arse.’ We sat in silence for a moment, listening to ‘Black Coffee’. I studied him, the slightly messed-up red-gold hair, intelligent 127
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 128
leighredhead
eyes, perfectly shaped lips. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the freckles on his forearms. I wanted to lick each and every one. And then there were his hands. Square palms, long fingers. They’d felt so good on my hip I wondered what they’d be like in other, more sensitive regions. He noticed me checking him out. ‘What?’ ‘You have nice hands.’ He held them up. ‘What, these old things?’ ‘Sway’ started playing. Seductive, hip shaking Latin rhythms. ‘Wanna dance?’ I smiled. I’d thought he’d give me a wicked grin, leap up and spin me round the lounge room. Instead he rubbed his jaw and looked away. ‘Simone, we have to talk.’ ‘What about?’ ‘I’m not quite sure how to say this.’ He was playing with the pipe and the mull bowl, sliding them around the coffee table, and I got a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was the same feeling I’d had when Kirsty Page skipped across the quadrangle and gleefully informed me that Andrew Miller had told Todd Falks to tell Sharon Mason to tell her to tell me that I was dropped. ‘I’m really sorry about last night,’ Sean said.‘I invited you here to keep you safe from some fucked-up rapist and then I try and crack onto you. It was sleazy.’ ‘No it wasn’t. I didn’t—’ ‘No. It was wrong. I wasn’t thinking. Plus, you know, I’m leaving for Vietnam in less than two weeks and—’ ‘Do I strike you as the sort of girl who shags someone and wakes up the next morning all clingy and thinks she’s engaged?’ ‘No, but…’ I narrowed my eyes. ‘Did you see Alex today?’ ‘Briefly.Why?’ ‘Is that why you’re having second thoughts?’ 128
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 129
rubdown
He scratched his forehead. ‘It’s not the whole reason.’ ‘He’s seeing Suzy. He has no claim on me.’ ‘Alex mentioned something happened between you the other night.’ I waved my arm and took a big slug of vodka. ‘What? A pash when I was drunk and had a head injury?’ ‘I really value Alex’s friendship and I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardise it. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a terrific girl.’ A terrific girl who was getting the right royal brush off. Suddenly I was in year eight and Kirsty was telling me Andrew just needed his own space. His own space? He was fourteen fucking years old. Bloody Alex. I had to save face somehow so I tossed my hair like I really didn’t give a shit.‘Cheer up, Sean.You look like someone died. I’m cool about it. Really. I think it’s great you have such respect for Alex’s friendship. Loyalty. You don’t see that much this day and age.’What a crock. He packed another pipe and looked relieved. ‘Thanks for being so understanding.’ Julie London was singing ‘Cry Me a River’ and Sean was looking as good as only a guy who has rejected you can look. My phone rang and I uncrossed my legs, got up with cracking knees and retrieved it from the kitchen bench. Curtis. ‘Hey, Simone. Me and Chloe are at the Tankerville Hotel for a buck’s turn. I told her you were staying around the corner and she wants you to come round for a drink and watch the show. I’ve found out some interesting shit about Billy Chevelle too. Don’t have the hard copies but I could give you a rundown.’ ‘Sure,’ I said. Curtis hung up but I kept the phone to my ear, switched it off so it wouldn’t ring and kept talking. ‘No, nothing really. I don’t know. Maybe. But I don’t want a 129
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 130
leighredhead
late night. Not like last time.’ Then I giggled and glanced over at Sean. He was staring into space, pretending he wasn’t listening. ‘You’re so bad.You’re wicked. I can’t.’ I paused. ‘Alright. But only one. Two at the most. Okay, see you soon.’ I pretended to hang up and turned to Sean. ‘I’m going out for a bit,’ I said. ‘Don’t wait up.’
130
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 131
chaptertwenty-one
T
he Tankerville was a big two storey pub painted a curious yellowbeige. It hunkered down on the corner of Nicholson and Johnston, across the road from the servo. Signs on the windows and walls advertised Tatts Pokies and twenty-four hour trading. I pushed open the glass door, avoided the blinking, cooing machines and climbed a wide,red carpeted staircase to the function room upstairs. About fifty men crowded around a small raised stage in the corner. The buck was on all fours and Chloe was kitted up in black latex, sitting on his back, whipping his arse with a riding crop. Curtis was off to the side, hunched over a boom box on a chair, fiddling with the volume until Nine Inch Nails’ ‘Closer’ went from loud to distorted. He looked different somehow. I walked over to a thirties style bar with gilded edges and square cut mirrors and ordered a tiny bottle of Jacobs Creek 131
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 132
leighredhead
sparkling from a young bartender who couldn’t stop looking at the stage. The room appeared to have been recently renovated in an attempt to restore its former grandeur, although I wasn’t sure about the fake palms and swirly red pub carpet. I picked up a handful of cheese cubes and cabanossi from a trestle table full of chips and dips and headed for Curtis. As I got closer I realised what it was about him. His usual crumpled flannie had been replaced by a black jacket over a chocolate V-neck sweater and someone had chopped off the hair that had shagged around his collar and artfully mussed the crown of his head with ‘product’. I sidled up and spoke into his ear. ‘Stylin’.’ He blushed and we moved to the back of the room to talk, Curtis keeping a protective eye on Chloe and me talking through a mouthful of cheese. ‘Chloe took me shopping,’ he admitted. ‘Melbourne people are so well dressed. Even the crims were more fashionable than me.You want to hear what I found out?’ ‘I have to be honest with you, Curtis. I’m not on the case anymore.’ ‘But I got such good dirt on Chevelle.’ ‘Yeah, like what?’ I was still curious about the guy. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t care since you’re not on the case.’ ‘Give it up, Curtis.’ Chloe unzipped her black minidress and circled it around her head a few times before throwing it in our direction. Curtis swooped down and picked it up, beating a couple of others to the prize. She sat the buck down on a chair, straddled him and rubbed her studded bra in his face, waving to me over his shoulder. I waved back. ‘Billy Chevelle and Emery Wade went to school together in the sixties at Annerley College in Brighton,’ he said.‘They weren’t 132
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 133
rubdown
friends, though. Wade was a rich footy star and Chevelle, then known as William Kronk, was on a music scholarship.You know much about Chevelle?’ ‘Enlighten me.’ ‘Talented pianist and songwriter who also happened to be able to hold a tune. Got his break on “New Faces” in the early seventies and became Little Billy Chevelle. First album was a big hit, but his second one flopped. He was still doing sixties sha la la I love you songs and the rest of Australia was getting into AccaDacca and Skyhooks, you know?’ Well, I’d heard. ‘Anyhow, he spent the next twenty years playing around RSLs, frittering away the fortune he’d made from his first record on cocaine and divorce payouts. Had a last stab at a comeback in nineteen eighty-eight when he wrote a musical about Ned Kelly. Thought he’d make it big, since it was the Bicentennial and all, and bankrolled most of the production himself.When it sunk he lost everything. Declared bankrupt in eighty-nine. Not long after he was arrested for assaulting his third wife but she dropped the charges.’ The crowd cheered as Chloe unhooked her bra, held it to her chest then removed it with a flourish and twirled it around. She had magnificent tits—big, all natural—and whenever I stood next to her with my B-cups I felt like a ten year old boy. She balled up the garment and chucked it at us. Curtis lunged, but I stuck out my hand and caught it. Howzat! ‘So how did Billy end up managing Veronica?’ I asked. ‘His fourth wife, Cindy, ran a hairdressing salon to support him and their two kids in the nineties. According to my sources Billy didn’t do much in that decade except lie on the couch watching TV and eating fistfuls of antidepressants. Veronica’s mother was a client of Cindy’s and she and Cindy persuaded Billy to go see 133
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 134
leighredhead
Veronica perform at a school concert. He became her manager, used the few contacts he had left to get her a gig on “Sassafras Street” and started writing her songs. The whole process took a couple of years but now her first album’s a hit and the royalties are finally flowing in. He’s back on top. Reinvented himself as, like, a svengali type dude.’ Chloe’s g-string fell a metre short of us, and Curtis ran over and played tug of war with a pimply faced youth. You couldn’t let the crowd souvenir your costumes, they were too damn expensive. ‘So how did Billy and Emery hook up? How’d the Veronica/ Blaine thing come about?’ ‘Annerley College reunion. Billy and Emery got talking apparently. Billy, ever aware of cross-promotional possibilities, suggested the two kids meet and the rest is history.’ Curtis plucked a toiletries bag from a backpack next to the boom box and threw it to Chloe. She extracted a black vibrator with so many complicated attachments it could probably mix, whisk and puree and all the guys oohed and aahed and moved in for a closer look. All except the buck who was tied to the chair with his jocks around his ankles. ‘What a heart warming and romantic story,’ I said. ‘Find out anything about Emery Wade?’ ‘Not really. He took over the family law firm when his father died in a car crash at the Grampians back in eighty-four. Married Susan and adopted her daughter Tammy the same year. He’s got a lot of high profile clients from Melbourne’s underworld.’ ‘Oh yeah?’ ‘Uh-huh. People like Rocco Barravecchio, Malcom McInnes, Felix Longman—you know, the one they reckon was a serial killer…’ I wasn’t really listening, I was watching Chloe put away her vibe and pull out a can of hair mousse and a lighter. She squirted 134
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 135
rubdown
foam all over the buck’s pubic hair as he wriggled and strained against the ropes. ‘He also represents a few of the Comanchero bikies, Big Al Boukos and that brothel owner, Neville Annis.’ Chloe flicked the bic and the buck’s pubes burst into flame.
135
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 136
chaptertwenty-two
C
hloe, Curtis and I had barricaded ourselves in a large storage closet that doubled as a dressing room. Plastic tubs of pink and blue cleaning fluid lined the shelves, yellow mop buckets clustered in the corner and a vacuum cleaner with a back harness hung on the wall. The buck’s party was yelling and banging on the door.‘More!’ Wearing nothing but black thigh boots and a heart shaped bikini wax, Chloe swigged from a bottle of cheap champagne. ‘Man, that was fun. Great crowd. Want to do a show? They’re all revved up, I could get you one easy.’ The red latex shorts and zip-up top I’d donated to Chloe when I retired peeked out of her suitcase along with my old feather boa. I imagined strutting into the function room to the first bars of George Michael’s ‘Too Funky’, everybody cheering, suddenly a sex goddess instead of a dumped teenager. My mouth dried up like a junkie anticipating a fix. 136
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 137
rubdown
The guys chanted:‘What do we want? More tits.When do we want ’em? Now.’ ‘Nah. I’m not stripping anymore. I made my choice. Chloe handed me the bottle. ‘Why do you even have to choose? There’s no law says you can’t do both.’ I swigged. Bubbles chased each other down my throat.‘Can’t do a show now anyway. How would I ever top the amazing flaming groin?’ ‘We could do a lesbian double.’ Curtis’ eyes grew wide. ‘Now that I’d like to see.’ ‘Oh, please,’ Chloe scoffed. ‘You can’t even get it up.’ ‘Chloe!’ I said. That was rude, even for her. Curtis studied a bulk pack of toilet tissue and his voice got small. ‘My shrink says the desire will come back eventually.’ ‘No way, buddy boy. It’s gone.’ She set the champagne bottle on a round table scarred with cigarette burns, squatted down and rummaged in her suitcase for Winfield Blues. She straightened up, lit one and blew smoke towards the ceiling, then put a hand on her hip and tossed her hair.‘When Curtis hadn’t cracked onto me by the third night’s driving, I did an experiment. Sat him down in my unit, put on Prince,“Erotic City”, and gave him the raunchiest fucking lap dance I’d ever done.’ The raunchiest? Knowing Chloe it would have been an incredibly X-rated piece of work. ‘I got on his lap and started, like, grinding, totally naked.’ She pulled over a chair with a ripped vinyl seat and demonstrated, thrusting her hips and thrashing her hair around like Elizabeth Berkley in Showgirls. ‘And you know what I felt?’ I shrugged. Curtis scuffed the carpet with his shiny new shoes. ‘Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Limp like cooked spaghetti.’ She cocked her pinkie then gulped some more champagne. Curtis rallied, lifting his chin. ‘Maybe I just don’t fancy you.’ 137
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 138
leighredhead
Chloe laughed so much that champagne came out of her nose. She took a final drag, coughed and stubbed out her ciggie in a black plastic ashtray. ‘Yeah right.’ She wasn’t being egotistical. It was just that every man she met wanted to fuck her. So did most women and a number of domestic animals. Out in the function room AC/DC started playing and the chanting quietened down except for the occasional knock and plaintive plea for ‘more tits’. ‘Sure you don’t wanna do a show?’ Chloe asked. ‘I’ll pass.’ She turned to Curtis.‘Go see what they want. I can do pearls, or a banana split with cream for two hundred.’ Curtis nodded and closed the door behind him. ‘You’re so mean to him,’ I said. She laughed and offered me a cigarette. ‘He loves it. So how’s the straight world?’ ‘Fucking dangerous.’ I lit the cancer stick and gave her a rundown, finishing with the Sean/Alex/Suzy debacle. Forget about love triangle, this was a goddamn quadrangle. I finished the ciggie and asked Chloe if she’d ever come between two best friends. ‘Yeah, I had this great threesome one time with—’ ‘Pearls.’ Curtis poked his head through the door. ‘Cool.’ She picked up a three metre strand. Let’s just say they weren’t going around her neck. I hugged her goodbye, we promised to catch up and I left her to it. Curtis stood outside the storeroom with his arms folded across his chest, trying to look tough. ‘Can you find out more about Wade’s association with Neville Annis?’ I asked. He stared ahead, rock-like, but his mouth lifted a fraction at the corner. ‘Thought you’d dropped the case.’ 138
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 139
rubdown
‘I have, but that Wade bastard’s got it in for me. Might need some ammunition.’ ‘Knowledge is power,’ he nodded. ‘I’ll have it for you tomorrow.’
I slept in and woke at ten to find Sean long gone, which was good. After I left the Tankerville I’d wandered down Johnston Street, had a champagne on my own at the Provincial Hotel, then dinner for one at the Nova café. Steak, salad and a couple of glasses of wine. During dinner I kept thinking about Emery being Neville’s lawyer. And when I stopped thinking about that I thought about a sweet smelling red-haired detective. After my solitary dinner I anaesthetised myself with two double whiskies at the Labour in Vain, careful to avoid eye contact with any likely local lads, and toddled back to Sean’s. The purpose of the exercise had been to avoid seeing him and my plan had worked brilliantly. He was in bed by the time I got back. I drank black coffee, ate boiled eggs and packed up my stuff in anticipation of going home. Just as I picked up my mobile to call Vincent and tell him I was quitting, it rang in my hand. Curtis. He had the info on Wade and Neville so I gave him Sean’s address and told him to bring it around. He was buzzing the intercom five minutes later. I let him in. ‘That was quick.’ ‘I’m staying around the corner. Backpackers on Nicholson while I look for a flat.’ He surveyed the room. ‘This is the sort of place I want.What’s that cop pay?’ ‘No idea. Let me see what you’ve got.’ ‘First you spill the beans on the case you just quit.’ He whipped his notebook out of his pants pocket. 139
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 140
leighredhead
I sighed and told him most of the story, but left out Vincent and Hannah’s names and implored him not to mention mine.‘You won’t be able to print any of this,’ I said. ‘Maybe not now.’ He tapped his pen on his pad. ‘Okay if I smoke in here?’ I nodded and he pulled out a pack of Peter Stuyvesant. I was sure it used to be Peter Jackson. Curtis kept up his end of the bargain and handed over a sheaf of typed paper with all the information he’d gathered. Wade had represented Neville three times since nineteen eighty-three. Drug trafficking, receiving stolen property and assault. In each case he’d been found not guilty. ‘Funny how Tamara ends up working for one of her dad’s clients,’ Curtis said. ‘Small town.’ ‘I’ll say.’ My mobile rang again. Hannah this time. ‘What’s up?’ I asked. ‘Just had the strangest visit from Vincent.We chatted for a bit, he gave me some of his wife’s disgusting gold jewellery, said I’d been very kind to him over the last couple of years and said goodbye.’ ‘So?’ ‘It was a really final goodbye. I don’t know if you know, but he was diagnosed with terminal cancer last week. They told him he had six months to live. Personally, I think that’s bullshit and I gave him some books with positive affirmations and a raw food eating plan. I guess I’m just worried he’ll top himself. Have you seen him lately? Did he seem okay?’ ‘Day before yesterday. I told him what I’d found out so far.’ About Neville. About the bust. ‘Did he say where he was going when he left you?’ 140
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 141
rubdown
‘That’s the weirdest part. He asked me to call him a cab to Tullamarine, but he didn’t have any bags.’ The airport. Holy shit.
141
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 142
chaptertwenty-three
I
looked at Curtis.‘We’ve got to get to the airport. Now.’ ‘How come?’ ‘My client’s just found out that he’s got inoperable cancer and he’s about to confront Neville Annis as he waits for a planeload of Asian sex slaves, completely screwing up a police operation.’ I grabbed my handbag, baseball cap and sunnies and we were out the door. Curtis’ car was a beige eighties model Toyota Camry filled with newspapers, notepads and Subway wrappers. I swept a pile of Herald Suns off the passenger seat and hopped in. ‘Why?’ Curtis started the car. ‘Jeez, let’s see. Vincent thinks Annis killed his son and his favourite massage girl. He’s got six months to live. I wonder.’ ‘No need to get snitchy.’ We squealed right on Nicholson, then shot through Parkville 142
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 143
rubdown
past the Melbourne General Cemetery and Zoo, onto the Citylink ramp at Flemington Road. Freeway signs in little orange lights told us it was fifteen minutes to the airport. Fifteen minutes too long. I stared out the window, chewing on the dead skin by my thumbnail as I watched the city turn into the suburbs and eventually khaki paddocks full of stunted trees. How could I have been so stupid as to tell Vincent about Sean’s operation? I bit too hard and tasted blood. Finally we turned left onto Airport Drive. ‘International arrivals is ground floor, end of the terminal,’ I told Curtis. ‘I know where it is.’ We pulled up behind an orange Skybus and before I slammed the door I said, ‘Park somewhere and stay in the car.’ ‘As if.’ I tucked my hair into the cap, jammed it low on my forehead and slid on the sunnies, not the greatest of disguises, but it would have to do. Inside I stopped in front of a travellers information booth and checked things out. Asian and Caucasian people crowded around a metal barrier, waiting for loved ones to emerge through the wooden Customs doors. Ugly tapestries in primary colours hung from the grey cinderblock walls and big square pillars dotted the room, draped in banners advertising the Art Gallery. I strolled up to the café, crouched down pretending to do up my shoelace and glanced behind me. Neville, Craig and Wu had been hidden from sight between one of the pillars and the Customs doors. Neville wore his usual red polo shirt and Craig had dressed up in knife-creased jeans and a black jacket that stretched tight across his enormous shoulders. I shivered at the sight of him. Wu looked like a sixties air hostess in a light blue suit and heels. She held a cardboard sign written in Chinese characters, just like the peakcapped chauffeurs who hung back from the crowds. I walked to the far end of the terminal, turned and wandered back. No sign of Vincent or Sean. A row of plastic chairs 143
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 144
leighredhead
upholstered in cheap red fabric were bolted to the floor and I sat and pretended to read an abandoned newspaper. Neville and his cronies were in front of me, to the left. On my right the glass walled Customs office displayed forbidden imports, and dead ahead escalators led to and from the first floor. A sign above them pointed to international departures, shops and food. Red lettering on the doors just beyond the escalators warned Department of Immigration. Restricted Area. Where the hell was Vincent? Maybe his cab had broken down, or he’d chickened out or… Two cops wearing blue jumpsuits tucked into army boots swaggered in from outside, past me and right in front of Neville. Craig stiffened and slid his hand inside his jacket. The cops didn’t notice and took the escalator to the first floor. A wooden door opened. People leaned forward. Travellers dribbled out pushing trolleys laden with suitcases. Wu walked right up to the barrier and held her sign high. A group of Asian couples exited the doors and a woman pointed to the sign. Wu nodded and waved. Families smiled and shouted. Lovers embraced. Then I heard a hoarse cry. ‘Neville Annis! Vaffanculo!’ I looked up and saw Vincent gliding down the escalator, arm held straight out, stiff. In his hand he had a gun.
144
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 145
chaptertwenty-four
E
verything happened in slow motion, like a car crash. I screamed,‘Vincent, no!’ Jumped up and ran for the escalator. Craig reached into his jacket and pushed Neville behind him. Wu clutched the metal barrier and stared. Vincent reached the bottom of the escalator, said ‘For Paolo,’ and squeezed off a shot. A small red dot, like an Indian woman’s bindi, appeared on Craig’s forehead, his head snapped and he fell back, the gun he’d drawn clattering to the floor. A chauffeur frisbeed his sign and started to pull a gun from a shoulder holster. Laminated identification appeared around his neck. An Asian couple whirled around, stood with legs wide apart and felt in their waistbands. ‘Police!’ Neville was sitting on the floor, legs trapped under Craig’s bulk, struggling to slide free. 145
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 146
leighredhead
Wu crawled towards Craig’s gun, snatched it up. The police yelled,‘Everyone down! Drop the fucking weapon!’ Tourists screamed, crouched behind pillars, dived to the floor. I dropped to my belly on the tiles. The jumpsuited cops came running down the escalator from upstairs. ‘For Tammy,’ Vincent said, and shot Neville in the chest. Wu knelt, clasping Craig’s gun in two shaking hands and fired. Blood sprayed out from Vincent’s thigh. The cops opened fire. Bullets punched him from in front and behind, the force lifting him to his toes. The back of his tweed jacket exploded and bloody roses bloomed on his white shirt. One final bullet smashed his temple and a chunk of skull blew off. I was lying a metre away and blood fountained from his ruined head as he keeled, raining down on my hair, my face, the back of my hands. He hit the floor with a wet slap, what was left of his face inches from mine, a raw meat smell in the air. I heard screaming, realised it was my own and tried to scramble away from the mess of exposed bone, pink flesh and pulpy brain, but kept slipping in all the blood. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Curtis, crouched down by the row of chairs, clicking off shots. The doors to the restricted area burst open and Sean and three other guys in suits flew out, guns drawn.When Sean saw the bodies he stopped, sagged, leaned against the wall. His face was grey. I had never seen anyone look so shattered.
It was dark when a uniformed copper dropped me back at Sean’s. I’d bought a fresh bottle of Stolichnaya on the way, figuring we’d both need it. The afternoon had been full of austere interview rooms, questions from brusque police officers and instant coffee in styrofoam cups. I hadn’t been allowed to see Sean and ended up telling them everything. I’d been too messed up to lie. 146
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 147
rubdown
I turned on the lamps and the central heating. Poured the last couple of shots from the old bottle over ice and stuck the new one in the freezer. I was getting quite a taste for vodka. It didn’t make me champagne crazy, or turn me into a verbose Irishman like the whisky did. It didn’t seem to get me drunk at all, just calm and cool and better able to deal with whatever hideous situation presented itself. That was a worry. I put on a Miles Davis record then sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. The melancholy trumpet fitted the mood and I unwrapped the packet of Marlboro Lights I’d bought at the bottle-o. I sniffed the fresh woody tobacco, dug one out and lit up, inhaling toasty smoke. There were plenty of other things that could kill you before lung cancer did. A key turned in the lock. Sean was home. His hair was messed up like he’d had his head in his hands and the fine lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened. For the first time ever he didn’t smile when he saw me. He slid the brown paper bag off a bottle of Stoli and I leaned back and flicked open the freezer. ‘Snap,’ I said. He didn’t react. Just took a glass and his mull bowl from the cupboard, and carried the lot to the kidney shaped coffee table in front of the couch. I hopped off my stool and sat next to him. He filled his glass to the brim and polished off a quarter in one slug. ‘I’m sorry.’ I said.‘I never should have told Vincent. It’s all my fault. Are you in terrible trouble.’ ‘Suspended, while they investigate my conduct. Probably an official reprimand and I can forget about a promotion for the next couple of years. Of course that’s the least of it. I fucked up when I shared information with you and now two people are dead.’ ‘Two?’ ‘Bullet missed his heart, Neville’s going to be fine. More than fine since we have nothing to arrest him for.Wu was charged with 147
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 148
leighredhead
malicious wounding, but she’ll get off arguing self defence.What a fuck-up.’ He sucked back on the pipe, held in the smoke, blew it out hard at the ceiling. Another gulp and the glass was half empty and he was packing pipe number two. Talk about comfortably numb. ‘You didn’t kill them, Sean. Things fuck up, people are unpredictable. Vincent wanted to die. Craig was a violent career criminal. It’s not your fault.’ I put my hand on his thigh and he pushed it away. ‘You’d better go. I need to be alone.’ ‘Don’t feel guilty.’ ‘But I do…’ His voice broke, recovered. ‘I fucking hate violence. Hate it.’ ‘Why’d you join the cops?’ A third sip and the vodka was nearly gone. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘A friend of mine was killed. A long time ago. I’m not in the mood to talk about it.Would you just go?’ ‘Fine, I’ll get out of your hair. Just let me shower and change these stinking clothes. I don’t think I got all the blood off at the cop shop.’ He shrugged and when I skolled the rest of my drink it brought tears to my eyes. I shut myself in the bathroom and turned the shower on full bore, heaped my blood spattered clothes on the floor and stepped under the steaming torrent. Usually I was an optimistic person but at that moment it became clear to me the that whole world was shit. I scrubbed at the dried blood and red water gurgled down the plughole. My hair was wet, hanging in strings around my shoulders. I closed my eyes as water streamed down my face, images playing on the lids. Tammy, wrists gaping, eyes staring. Vincent a steaming mess of blood and bone. I heard the bathroom door 148
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 149
rubdown
creak and opened my eyes. Sean was there, blurred by the glass, watching me through the misty screen. I pushed the shower door open and he stepped into the cubicle fully clothed and stood under the spray. I stared at him as his white shirt soaked through, becoming transparent and clinging to his chest. Sean reached for me and where the first time had been sweet and soft this was hard and fast and desperate. His tongue was down my throat and his hands were everywhere at once, squeezing my boobs, my bum. I pulled his hair and crushed my mouth onto his, opening my legs, letting him slide a finger inside. Clutching his wrist I forced it in deeper. He kicked off his shoes. I grappled with his jeans, bit down on his shoulder as he finger fucked me, fumbled open the buttons on his shirt. He stopped for a second and dropped it into the corner. There was a small V of fine hair in the middle of his smooth chest. I sucked his nipples. Bit them. His cock was poking out of his wet jeans and I dropped to my knees on the hard tiles and licked it. It was medium sized, pink, hard as a rock. I took it into the back of my throat without gagging, felt it swell up. Sean groaned, said, ‘No,’ hauled me up and leaned me against the wall. He kneeled, spread my pussy wide with his fingers and worked my clit with his tongue. He was amazing. In record time I was screaming and pulling his hair. As my legs shook and I held the shower rose for support he grabbed my arse, drew me onto his face, plunged his tongue inside and set me off again. I breathed. ‘Get up, goddamn you, and fuck me now.’ Not very polite but it worked. He stood, turned me around and I bent over and placed my palms flat on the tiles. He held my hips and pulled me back onto his cock. Water ran down my spine, splashing between us with every thrust. He drove into me, faster and harder, and I was feeling every inch, gasping and delirious as he expanded inside me, and although I usually can’t, I swear 149
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 150
leighredhead
I felt it when he came, cock throbbing, semen molten hot and wet.
It must have been three in the morning when a buzzing sound woke me. I was either asleep or passed out in Sean’s bed with my head on his chest. Orange light spilled into the bedroom from a lamp in the lounge. ‘Fuck’s that?’ I muttered. ‘Intercom.’ He rolled over, pulled on a pair of cords and wandered to the front door. ‘This better be good.’ ‘Sean, it’s Alex.You gonna buzz me in or should I use my key?’
150
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 151
chaptertwenty-five
‘N
ow’s not a good time,’ said Sean, but the speaker had gone dead. From where I lay I could see straight across the lounge room to the front door. A few seconds later Alex let himself in. Sean tried to block him but he pushed past. I lay very still with the sheet pulled up to my chest. Maybe he wouldn’t notice I was there. ‘I know what happened,’ Alex said,‘and I know you’re beating yourself up about it. I bought vodka and we’re going to sit and drink and talk.’ He brandished another damn bottle of Stoli, then stopped short and squinted when he saw my shape in the bed. ‘Sorry, mate, I didn’t … Simone?’ Sean put a hand on his shoulder, but Alex shrugged him off, marched to the doorway and flicked on the light. I sat up, dishevelled and blinking. 151
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 152
leighredhead
Alex stared at me. His voice was flat.‘I broke up with Suzy this afternoon.’ On his way out he thrust the bottle at Sean. ‘Keep it. I never liked the shit anyway.’ ‘Alex,’ said Sean. But he was gone.
I woke at nine thirty and let Sean sleep while I showered, drank coffee and cleaned up the flat. By eleven I was bored and tiptoed back into the bedroom. He slept like a child on the wood framed bed, flat on his back, one arm flung out and the other across his face. The grey doona was kicked down to his waist and I watched his smooth chest rise and fall, studied his slightly parted, perfectly formed lips. My stomach flipped. This was all wrong. I hardly ever went for the nice guys. I hoped when he woke he wouldn’t dwell on the shooting, or Alex walking in on us. Perhaps if I took his mind off it right from the start… I inched the quilt down over his hips and saw that half my work had already been done. Then I slid down the bed, put his erect cock in my mouth and just kind of rested it there as I watched his face. He stirred, but didn’t wake. I started sucking slowly and softly, massaging his balls with one hand, gradually increasing the pressure and pace until I was sucking for all I was worth, Linda Lovelace style. Sean opened his eyes just before he came, bucking his hips and tangling his fingers in my hair. His semen tasted sweet, no kidding, just like hot peach crumble. I licked my lips and moved up to his other head. ‘Morning.’ I smiled. ‘Fucking Jesus,’ he said. He blinked a couple of times, rubbed his face and turned to me. He was smiling. Mission accomplished. 152
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 153
rubdown
‘Want to go for breakfast?’ I smiled back. ‘Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.’
We put breakfast on hold while he drove me to Brighton to pick up the Futura. No one tried to stop us and Emery Wade had not secreted his person in any part of the vehicle. I checked. Parking our cars outside my flat we walked to the Turtle Café at the roundabout where Glenhuntly, Broadway and Ormond Roads intersected.We sat outside in the sunshine at a green metal setting. A dog with a squashed face and a red bandanna flopped by its owner’s feet at the next table. Inside the café was a pram jam: strollers stuffed between round wooden tables, babies crying, toddlers scribbling in crayon on wide sheets of butcher’s paper. Sometimes I thought Elwood was where everyone from St Kilda moved to breed. A waitress with a tribal tattoo snaking out of her low rise jeans took our orders. Sean went for muesli with yoghurt and a pot of tea. I ordered black coffee and eggs with everything except toast. ‘Why no bread?’ he asked, lighting a Marlboro. ‘Kind of doing the low carb thing, you know.’ I patted my belly. He shook his head. ‘That’s so bad.You need carbohydrates.’ ‘What for?’ ‘Energy.’ ‘Did I appear to lack energy last night?’ He couldn’t argue with that. ‘Don’t hassle me about my diet,’ I said, ‘and I won’t mention how odd it is that you have a house full of health food and an insatiable appetite for vodka and cigarettes.’ He grinned and sucked back hard on his Marlboro. ‘Deal.’ 153
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 154
leighredhead
After we’d eaten I pinched a cigarette off him. The man with the dog left the table next to us and I reached over and picked up his discarded copy of The Age. The headline read ‘Two Dead in Airport Shootout’. The byline was Curtis Malone. A picture of Vincent holding the gun, just before he fired, took up most of the front page. I scanned the article. You could see me from behind in the picture, but Curtis hadn’t mentioned my name. I could have kissed him. Sean was smoking, staring at the gum tree on the roundabout. ‘Do you want to see?’ I ventured. He shook his head. ‘I never read bad reviews.’ I put the paper back, turned it upside down. ‘You okay about yesterday?’ ‘Which part? The ruined career, senseless slaughter or shattered friendship?’ I must have looked as crushed as I felt because Sean touched my shoulder. ‘Hey, I’ll get over it. I’ve seen worse. And the police service needs me more than I need them.’ ‘And Alex?’ ‘He’ll forgive me eventually. Maybe by the time I get back from Vietnam.’ I reached across the table for his hand. He twined his fingers in mine. Funny how when you’re first with someone just holding hands can send a jolt up your spine. ‘Is it true what you told me the other night?’ I said. ‘You asked me to stay to keep me safe and had no intention of cracking onto me?’ ‘God, no! I was lying my arse off. I’m a guy. First time I saw you I imagined you naked. Right after Neville and Craig shot at us? I wanted to throw you in the back seat and do you then and there.’ ‘Serious?’ 154
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 155
rubdown
‘Oh yeah. Wish I had ’cause now I’ve only got seven days to make up for lost time.’ ‘It’s going to be a hell of a week,’ I said.
We walked back to my place hand in hand. The sky was deep blue, leaves red and gold, and the dirty canal water sparkled in the pale autumn sun. I knew it was just sex endorphins, but it sure felt like Mills and Boon. I briefly wondered if I were repressing some kind of post traumatic stress disorder, then thought, screw it, life’s short and you take your happiness whenever and wherever you can find it. I collected my bags from his boot and we strolled up the path towards the entrance. I was so caught up in thinking about what we might get up to once we were inside that when Sean stopped I bumped straight into the back of him. A big, balding guy in a striped shirt was standing at the security door, and turned when he saw us. ‘Simone Kirsch?’ Sean stepped between me and the man, held his arm out.‘I’m a police officer.’ The man laughed. ‘Good for you, mate, I’m a process server.’ He reached around Sean and handed me a white envelope. ‘Consider yourself served.’ Inside the flat I chucked my bags on the ground, ripped open the envelope and read the letter out loud: ‘The Private Agents’ registrar hereby gives Simone Kirsch notice that a hearing shall take place on the ninth of May to determine her fitness to hold an Inquiry Agent’s licence, and whether said licence shall be suspended or cancelled. Ms Kirsch is alleged to have acted in a manner unfair, dishonest or discreditable on the eighteenth of April at the private residence of Mr and Mrs Emery Wade, Brighton. It is 155
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 156
leighredhead
alleged she entered the premises under false pretences and stole property, a mobile telephone and charging device.’ I looked at Sean. ‘That bastard Wade. He’s hated me from the start. This is bullshit.’ ‘Did you lie your way in and steal a phone?’ ‘Well yeah, but—’ ‘Then you’re in deep shit.’ ‘Tell me about it. If I lose my licence I lose my job. Then what’ll I do?’ ‘You could go back to stripping.’ ‘I’m turning twenty-nine in November. In a few years all I’ll be fit for is granny-grams.’ ‘You could put on stacks of weight and branch out into fato-grams too.’ I didn’t laugh.‘You’re not helping. I need a drink.’ On my way to the cask I saw the answering machine light blinking. I hit play and the message stopped me in my tracks. It was Lulu. ‘Simone, can’t talk for long. They’re after me. Neville didn’t kill Tammy, her stepfather did. It was Emery Wade.’
156
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 157
chaptertwenty-six
T
he call clunked off and Sean and I hovered over the machine. I played the message again. From the roadworks and traffic in the background it sounded like Lulu was calling from a public phone. ‘Think she’s telling the truth?’ Sean asked. ‘I don’t know. It would explain why Wade wants my licence cancelled. Maybe he’s had me followed all along, and that’s why he knew the exact moment I was at his place. He could’ve set balaclava guy onto me. Shit, maybe the whole thing was a set-up from the start.’ ‘You’d better tell me everything.’ He sat on the armchair. In his t-shirt, faded jeans and canvas basketball shoes he looked ten years younger than his actual age of thirty three. I sat on the couch, flipped open my notebook and went through the case from the beginning. ‘Wade could have wanted 157
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 158
leighredhead
Tamara watched so he’d have a witness to tell the police no one came in or out of her flat.’ ‘We’re going to take this to Homicide,’ he said ‘What do I give them? A whole lot of conjecture, my word against a respectable lawyer’s, an answering machine tape with unfounded allegations and a bogey man in a black balaclava? They’ll think I’m just doing it ’cause he’s put in a complaint against me. And then there’s Hannah. She’s a really nice person, and I don’t want to bring any more heat down on her or her girls.’ I lay back on the couch, suddenly overwhelmed. ‘Then don’t mention her. There are ways around it.’ ‘You really think they’ll listen to me and investigate Wade?’ ‘Probably not. But at least it’ll be in the system. And I can help you with the Wade problem.’ ‘How? You’re suspended and going overseas in a week.’ ‘We need to find Lulu, see if what she’s said is true and somehow get Wade to drop the complaint. So we do what the police do. Set up a taskforce, brainstorm the problem and delegate responsibility.’ ‘To who? Can’t see Alex and Suzy putting up their hands.’ ‘Not cops. How about your boss, Tony Torcasio, that journalist you told me about, and your stripper friend.What’s her name—Cleo?’ ‘Chloe. Don’t get me wrong, I love her dearly but she couldn’t investigate her way out of a paper bag.’ He sat next to me on the couch and started massaging my thigh. ‘Think outside the square.’ ‘You sound like a furniture ad.’ ‘It’s what they teach us in detective training. Open your mind.’ ‘New age crap.’ ‘What other choice do you have?’ He had a point, but I continued to sulk. I pushed my bottom lip out a bit. 158
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 159
rubdown
‘I have to go to St Kilda Road this afternoon for another dressing down about yesterday,’ he said. ‘Come with me and I’ll get someone to take your statement. Then call everyone and see if they can meet us at my place at six for a briefing.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘This is what I do. I’m good at it.You going to stop sulking?’ ‘Probably not.’ ‘Then I’ve only one option left.’ He winked and stuck his head under my skirt. If I’d had a ring on me I would have popped the question, then and there.
I gave a statement at the St Kilda Road Police Complex to a detective who looked at me as if I was completely wasting his time. Sean didn’t think it was a good idea that I stay at my place, under the circumstances, and even though I now knew this was as much a clever ploy to get into my pants as it was concern for my safety, I lugged my bags back to Fitzroy. Everything I owned was filthy so while he spent the afternoon doing whatever cops do when an operation fucks up and the shit hits the fan, I spent the afternoon in a laundromat on Brunswick Street. As well as drinking whisky and enjoying ‘oral pleasure’ with men of loose morals, PIs do regular stuff too. When the first load was on, I called Chloe’s mobile. She was having a leisurely lunch on a balcony overlooking the water at the Cove Hotel in Patterson Lakes. So was Curtis. For a couple who hated each other they sure spent a lot of time together. ‘Hey, mate, I heard about the airport. Left some messages on your phone.You alright?’ She sounded like she had a mouthful of hot chips. Chloe was a demon for the carbs but it didn’t matter because it all went straight to her tits. 159
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 160
leighredhead
‘Yeah, except Emery Wade’s trying to have my licence cancelled and I got a phone message from Lulu that said he killed Tammy.’ ‘Why would Wade kill Tammy?’ ‘That’s what Sean and I are trying to find out.We need your help. Can you and Curtis meet us tonight?’ ‘Sure.What’s going on with the Sean situation anyway?’ I’d been dying to tell someone, so I gave her a blow by blow account, sparing no detail. Curtis was pestering her in the background. ‘What is it? What’s going on?’ Chloe said, loud enough for the whole pub to hear,‘Simone’s rooting a copper with the fastest tongue in Fitzroy and jizz that tastes like hot peach crumble.’ ‘I am truly sorry I asked,’ he muttered. ‘And she needs our help, sort of like the A-team.’ ‘I loved that show. Count me in.’ I tried Tony’s mobile and was relieved when it went to message bank. ‘I’m in a spot of bother.’ Understatement of the year. ‘Can you meet me tonight?’ I gave him the details. He was gonna kill me.
At six o clock Sean had a whiteboard set up in the lounge room, manila folders for everyone and bowls of hommous and babaganoush with Turkish bread, celery and carrot sticks. Chloe and Curtis showed up with a bottle of champagne. Christ, it was like we were having a dinner party. I introduced them both to Sean. Chloe gave him the onceover as she stuffed snacks into her mouth and Curtis marched right up and shook his hand vigorously. ‘Detective peach crumble, I presume.’ 160
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 161
rubdown
Sean frowned and Chloe snorted,Turkish breadcrumbs spraying across the room. I felt my cheeks heat up. ‘Don’t mind Curtis,’ I said. ‘He’s a journalist.’ I steered them both to the couch. Chloe popped the champagne and poured one for me. Sean gave Curtis a beer. Tony rang the buzzer and I let him in and introduced him to everyone. He shook Sean’s hand.‘Shields, I’ve heard of you. Asian Squad?’ He perched on a stool at the kitchen bench. ‘That’s right. It’s great to meet you.Your exploits in undercover are the stuff of legend.’ He handed Tony a beer. Excellent, I thought, butter him up. ‘I’m sure they’ve been exaggerated over the years.’ Curtis and Chloe were arguing on the couch. ‘I’ll be Hannibal,’ he said. ‘No way,’ she squealed. ‘Sean’s Hannibal and Tony over there is obviously Mr T.’ ‘Okay, Face.’ ‘Please,’ she said, ‘you are so not Face.You’re the weird guy— what was his name?’ Tony looked at his watch, cleared his throat and said, ‘What’s going on?’ Sean jumped in. ‘Might be best if I started at the beginning.’ He handed out folders and flipped the whiteboard round to reveal names and diagrams and explained the case history to everyone succinctly and in full. All he needed was a pointer and a pencil moustache and he could have been a brigadier in an old war movie marshalling the troops to a dawn raid on the jerries. I was impressed. He’d remembered everything I’d told him that morning and hadn’t taken notes. ‘Any ideas?’ he asked when he was done. Curtis’ hand shot up. Swot. ‘We need more info on Wade and we have to find Lulu. That’s top priority.’ 161
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 162
leighredhead
‘Personally I’d like to talk to Blaine and Veronica,’ I said.‘Billy Chevelle fought with Lulu because she was trying to talk to them. Trouble is they’re such big celebrities they’re protected from everyday scum like us.’ ‘Speak for yourself.’ Chloe popped Turkish bread slathered in hommous into her mouth.‘I’ve got two tickets to the Tamara Wade Foundation Gala Benefit.’ We all stared. ‘How’d you get those?’ Curtis asked. ‘I’m still a minor celebrity in this town.’ ‘Minor is right.What are you—E-list?’ Chloe flicked some crumbs out of her cleavage and Sean, Tony and Curtis couldn’t help but stare. Boys. She said, ‘Just for that, Curtis, you’re not coming. Me and Simone’ll go to the ball tomorrow night.’ Sean held up his hand. ‘Not such a good idea. Wade and Chevelle know what Simone looks like.’ ‘Then she can go as someone else. One of my girls is training to become a makeup artist for film and TV and she’s brilliant— got wigs, everything. By the time Mandy’s finished, even Simone’s mother won’t recognise her.’ ‘How about locating Lulu?’ Sean addressed everyone. ‘Maybe she’s hooking with the other trannies down Carlisle Street?’ Chloe offered. ‘She sometimes performs in the drag night at the Greyhound on Saturdays,’ I said. ‘Count me and Curtis out,’ Chloe said. ‘Saturday’s my busiest night.’ ‘Okay, Simone and I will go,’ said Sean.‘How about you, Tony, any ideas?’ Tony tipped the last of the beer into his mouth and set the bottle down on the bench. I chewed a fingernail, waiting for his answer. 162
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 163
rubdown
‘Yeah.You forget this shit and I get Simone a lawyer to help her at the hearing.’ ‘But, Tony,’ I said,‘Emery killed Tamara and he threatened me and—’ ‘You’re going on the word of some drugged out trannie hooker. Think you’re a caped crusader? You’re an inquiry agent and right now no one’s paying you to inquire. I think you’re all making something out of nothing and if you want a career in this industry I suggest you drop the whole thing before it’s too late.’ He popped a carrot stick in his mouth, slid off the chair and walked towards the door. And that was when the window exploded in a hail of bullets.
163
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 164
chaptertwenty-seven
T
ony dived behind the kitchen bench. Sean pushed me to the floor and threw himself on top. Chloe rolled off the couch and Curtis sat there like a stunned mullet until she dragged him down by his jacket. Squalls of shattered glass rained down and plaster disintegrated from the walls and ceiling. The merlot bottle exploded on top of the fridge and the overhead lights blew out. The firestorm ended and a motorbike gunned it outside. The smell of burning rubber wafted through the window. In the distance I heard a siren’s keening wail. Sean lifted himself off me. ‘You alright?’ ‘Yeah.’ We stood up, carefully shaking glass shards from our clothes. The records and CDs were a mess of broken vinyl and plastic. 164
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 165
rubdown
Books littered the floor, no more than shredded paper, and Miles and Billie were studded with bullet holes, ripped from the wall. Tony emerged from behind the counter, blood dripping down his face. ‘Jesus, Tony, you’re hurt.’ I picked my way over, crunching glass. ‘Nah, it’s just red wine.’ He wiped his face with the heel of his hand, nodded at me. ‘Okay. I believe you.’ Curtis was still on top of Chloe.‘Get off me, you big lug!’ She smacked his shoulder. ‘I can’t. I’ve been shot.’
The next hour was a confusion of cops and ambulance officers. Curtis had been shot in the left buttock as Chloe pulled him off the couch. She had almost certainly saved his life, but the drama queen didn’t see it that way. ‘You took a bullet for me.’ She held his hand as the paramedics hoisted him face down onto a stretcher.‘That’s so romantic. I was wrong when I said you weren’t Face.You’re better than Face.You could be Magnum PI.’ Sean had wiped the whiteboard and hidden the folders by the time the police arrived. It wasn’t exactly legal to get an A-team together and he told everyone not to mention the fact. The D from the Fitzroy Crime Investigation Unit who interviewed us back at the station didn’t quite buy the story that we’d been getting together for a quiet drink. A cop, two PIs, a journo and a celebrity stripper? Especially when he gave the Homicide Squad a call and found out about the statement I’d given at the Police Complex earlier that day. But we stuck to our stories and eventually they let Chloe, Tony and me go. 165
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 166
leighredhead
I arranged for us all to meet by Curtis’ bedside on Saturday, then Tony left and Chloe raced to St Vincent’s to check on Magnum. I hung around for another half hour by the Coke machine in the foyer until they’d finished giving Sean the third degree about his relationship with me. When we finally got back, ballistics were just finishing up, having collected shell casings and dug bullets out of the walls. One of the crime scene guys helped us nail a board to the window and we packed a couple of bags, grabbed two bottles of vodka from the freezer and took off to find a motel like the CIU detective had suggested. Before we left Sean spent a quiet moment surveying his ruined music collection. He took a deep breath in, sighed it out. I just stood there, knowing it was all my fault. Inside the Saab he popped a cigarette in his mouth and depressed the dash lighter.‘So, trouble-child. Any ideas about a motel?’ ‘Can it be the kind with a broken neon sign, cigarette burns and the sound of a hooker and her john going for it in the next room?’ I asked. The lighter popped out and he held the glowing tip to his smoke. ‘You’re quite sleazy, aren’t you?’ I just smiled.
We couldn’t find a place with a broken neon sign so we settled for a hotel in Parkville called, no kidding, Vibe. It was once a cheap motel but it had recently been refurbished in a vaguely sixties style and the lobby was all curved wood and groovy light fittings. Our room was out the back near the car park and had a pink door, Foxtel and a mini bar. We christened the bed and ordered room service. Roast pumpkin salad with feta and olives for Sean and chicken Caesar for me.While we waited for the food we christened 166
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 167
rubdown
the bathroom sink. Nothing like a near death experience to get the juices flowing. When dinner arrived Sean answered the door wearing my lacy hot pink undies. Those room service guys must have seen it all. We lay on the bed, eating and watching R-rated porn with the sound turned down. ‘I’m sorry about your flat,’ I said. ‘Insurance will cover most of it.’ Except the irreplaceable vinyl. ‘The main thing is no one was badly hurt,’ Sean said, trying to convince himself. ‘Curtis won’t be sitting down for a while.’ ‘True. At least now Homicide will take your claims seriously.’ ‘I hope so. I just want all this shit to be over.’ ‘And we can keep investigating. Just have to be careful.’ He scooted up to the head of the bed and fiddled with the clock radio, tuning it to a jazz station. ‘What sort of tunes you into?’ he asked. ‘Bits of everything. I don’t mind jazz.’ I nodded at the radio. ‘Dance music when I’m running. Cock rock when I’m lifting weights, The Smiths when I’m depressed and country when I’m drinking whisky in bars.’ ‘Country? That why you don’t have a boyfriend?’ I punched him in the arm and poured us both another vodka. ‘What about you? You don’t have a girlfriend.’ ‘I did eighteen months ago.We were together three years but my crazy hours broke us up. Funny thing is, six months later she was married with a baby on the way.’ ‘That always happens.’ ‘Talking from personal experience?’ ‘Kind of.’ I drained my glass. Poured another. ‘Let me guess, you had this one big relationship in your mid twenties and it ended badly. Am I right?’ 167
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 168
leighredhead
‘You detectives never stop detecting, do you?’ He propped himself up on one elbow and lit a cigarette. ‘Come on, tell me about it.’ ‘Nah.’ ‘No more sex until you do.’ ‘That’s cruel and unusual punishment.’ He didn’t say a thing. I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling. I said, ‘Okay. You’re right. There was this guy when I was living in Sydney.’ ‘Name?’ ‘Matt.’ ‘Occupation?’ ‘Medical student.’ ‘Smart.’ ‘Yeah, a Virgo like you. Got together when I was twenty-one and he was twenty-seven and we had a lot in common, mainly going out, seeing bands, getting wasted. Moved in together, planned to get married one day in Vegas. For three years things were sweet.’ ‘Then what happened?’ ‘A combination of him starting his internship and the infatuation wearing off. He was tired all the time, but I still wanted to party. So I did. And, yeah, we just kind of drifted apart.’ ‘You’re not telling me the full story.’ ‘Yes, I am. God, I feel like a suspect.You gonna rough me up a bit, make me talk?’ ‘I prefer whacking people over the head with a phone book. Doesn’t leave a mark. Come here.’ I did.
168
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 169
chaptertwenty-eight
C
amera’s flashed. Photographers yelled. Chloe and I were on our way to the Tamara Wade Foundation Gala Benefit and the red carpet leading into Crown Casino was a sea of diaphanous fabric, smooth tanned skin and gravity defying cleavage. There were more blondes than Bar 20 and I’d seen less flesh at the Men’s Gallery on Grand Final weekend. Chloe was laced into a red PVC dress. A trashy Venus. I was in a hot pink baby doll mini with a teased blonde wig and my white platform stripping boots, looking like I should be go-go dancing in the lobby at the Vibe hotel. Chloe had been right about Mandy the makeup artist, she’d totally transformed me. Several shades of foundation sculpted my face, my brows arched higher and lips appeared fuller due to a judicious application of pencil and gloss. I had brown contact lenses, false 169
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 170
leighredhead
lashes and fake titties stuffed in my bra: silicone inserts the same shape and consistency of raw chicken breast. For once I was loaded upfront. The photographers jostled for position. ‘Chloe! Chloe! Over here!’ She obliged and struck a pose, all tits and teeth. ‘Who’s your friend, darling?’ Chloe put her arm around me and smiled. ‘This is Tiffany. She’s a porn star!’ The flashes were blinding. ‘Chloe!’ I hissed. She giggled, extremely pleased with herself, and steered me through the atrium and up a sweeping staircase. The atrium was doing its automated Las Vegas style thing: an overwrought music and light show with giant chandeliers dropping from the ceiling, fountains spurting water and a hidden dry ice machine cranking out manufactured mist. We followed a gaggle of anorexic soap stars in Collette Dinnigan frocks up a plush corridor, flashed our invitations and were inside. The Palladium was a function room the size of a football field full of round tables set with bronze and white napery.Wine glasses sparkled in the golden light and waiters in military style jackets with shoulder pads and epaulettes glided by, trays laden with wine, beer and champagne. Chloe found our names on a setting at the back of the room and put her hands on her wide hips. ‘This table’s shit!’ I plucked two champagnes off a passing tray. ‘Better get your head back on TV.’ Chloe skolled hers, burped and grabbed another as a waiter cruised past in the opposite direction. I sipped mine and scanned the room. Emery Wade, Billy Chevelle, Blaine, Veronica and 170
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 171
rubdown
some rich dudes who could have been footy club officials or record company execs were front and centre. Mrs Wade wasn’t there. Faces I recognised from the social pages populated the tables next to them. Television ‘personalities’, pop singers, spokesmodels and people who were famous for no particular reason that I could see. Veronica kicked off the evening with a rendition of the cringe-worthy ‘Tamara’s Song’. It had been all over the radio, played in taxis, piped through shops, and whenever I heard it I got angrier and angrier. Chloe, a girl who’d always maintained that music died when Slash left Guns N’ Roses, stuck her fingers down her throat and mimed puking. Everyone else in the cavernous room applauded rapturously. Veronica and Blaine welcomed their guests, stressed what a worthy cause the Tamara Wade Foundation was, and made the rich folks feel good about themselves before handing over the floor to a game show host with frighteningly white teeth. The food came, a tower of vegetables and meat sprouting from a sea of ‘jus’ and topped with crispy wisps of deep fried sweet potato. More a feat of engineering than a meal. We were subjected to a boy band as we ate, then an auction of autographed celebrity underwear, and a dance troupe that might have featured in the previous year’s Rock Eisteddfod. When the plates were cleared a halfway decent salsa band started up and guests began to twirl each other around the dance floor. Everyone was tanked and out of their designated seats. Time to make my move. ‘I’m going to try and talk to Blaine,’ I told Chloe.‘Think you can distract the old dudes?’ ‘No problemo.’ She took my hand and pulled me through the crowd, ducking and weaving, until we stood in front of Emery and Billy. Both wore tuxedos, but Billy had accessorised his with 171
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 172
leighredhead
a string tie and cowboy boots. Far as I was concerned, he gave cowboys a bad name. ‘Ohmigod,’ gushed Chloe. ‘You’re Billy Chevelle!’ He stood taller, ran a hand through the shaggy hairstyle he’d been sporting since the late seventies and stuck it out. Chloe went to shake, but he kissed her hand instead. Eeew. ‘Enchanté,’ he said. Double eeew. I hung back slightly, tracking Veronica and Blaine out of the corner of my eye. They were joined at the hip and surrounded by a crowd of sycophants five feet deep. An enormous bodyguard stood back slightly, watching over them. He had a square jaw, a blonde buzz cut and wore a black suit and dark sunglasses. A thrill of fear unfurled in my stomach. Ever since I’d been attacked, massive bouncer types totally freaked me out. Not good seeing as I spent a lot of my time in pubs. ‘You sang “Love Tidal Wave”! Chloe jiggled up and down, seriously in danger of a black eye.‘I love that song! I can’t believe I’m standing right in front of you!’ ‘Well the lady’s certainly got excellent taste.’ Billy flashed his whitened teeth. ‘You look familiar, have we met before?’ ‘You probably saw the television show I hosted, “Sin City”? Plus I had a role on “Stingers”. I asked Peter Phelps if he’d like a lap dance.’ Chloe looked down like it was no big deal. Emery stepped forward, muscling in on Billy’s action like a silverback gorilla in a David Attenborough special.‘And fine work it was.You’re Chloe, the famous exotic dancer.’ ‘That’s right,’ she responded breathily. ‘And you are?’ ‘Emery Wade. I’m not a celebrity, I’m afraid, just a criminal lawyer.’ ‘My,’ said Chloe, one hand caressing her chest. My rough as guts best friend appeared to be channelling Marilyn Monroe. 172
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 173
rubdown
‘He’s Blaine Wade’s father,’ Billy said, to make Emery seem old. ‘And your friend?’ Emery looked at me without recognition. Of course that would be blown out of the water as soon as I opened my mouth. ‘Tiffany—’ ‘Hoffschneider.’ I put on a guttural German accent and pumped his hand up and down. My grandparents came from Munich so I did a fair impression, although I tended to sound a little like Nico from Velvet Underground. ‘She’s a porn star,’ Chloe said, suppressing a grin. Billy raised his eyebrows. ‘German porn?’ ‘Ja.’ I was nervous, so I started babbling. ‘People think it is sick, vot vit de dwarves und de fisting but vot ve try to explore is a, a, abstract, expressionist, Brechtian, Wagnerian, Nietzschean pastiche, ja?’ Chloe held her chin and nodded like she knew what I was on about and Emery and Billy studied me with a mixture of horror and fascination. I looked around, desperately trying to think of something to fill the silence. ‘I like zis casino. Reminds me of Vegas. I voz just there for the Adult Industry Awards.’ ‘You were nominated?’ asked Billy. ‘Ja, best performance in a gang bang.’ ‘Win?’ ‘Nein. Lost to Buffy St Clair. Vot a hund.’ ‘What are you doing in Australia?’ Emery. ‘I come to see my good friend Chloe.’ I put an arm around her.‘Try to ask her to make movie vit me in Deutschland, do some—vot you call them?—double fräulein shows vile I am here.’ ‘Lesbian doubles.’ Chloe dipped her chin and batted her eyelashes. 173
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 174
leighredhead
A waiter swooped past and Emery ordered a bottle of Moet. He pronounced it ‘mower’. ‘What are you girls doing after this? Want to come to the exclusive after-party upstairs?’ ‘Why not?’ Chloe giggled. ‘Ja, for certain,’ I said.
174
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 175
chaptertwenty-nine
T
he after-party was in a penthouse suite packed with penguin suits, cleavage and gilded furniture. Veronica’s latest album was mercifully drowned out by drunken conversation and the air was thick with expensive perfume and free booze. From that altitude the sprawling southern suburbs were transformed into a glittering carpet of light that stopped abruptly at the dark curve of the bay. Chloe and I were squeezed between Billy and Emery on an overstuffed cream and gold couch, sipping French champagne. Emery’s knee was touching mine and even though I supposed he was quite good looking for an old bloke, a shiver of revulsion danced down my spine. Billy plucked a small bag of coke from his jacket pocket and a tiny silver spoon. He took a snort, gave one to Chloe, then offered it to me. 175
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 176
leighredhead
I’ll admit I was tempted. It was probably really good shit but I didn’t want to be diverted from my mission by getting out of it and screwing up. ‘Nein danke, did too much in Berlin. I get my septum reconstructed.’ He didn’t offer any to Emery. ‘You not like the cocaine?’ I asked. He leaned in and put his hand on my thigh. His breath was sticky in my ear. ‘Let’s just say I have other vices.’ The shiver almost turned into a seizure. Soon as the powder hit, Billy and Chloe started talking an inordinate amount of shit. My friend rabbited on about her one day on the “Stingers” set and Billy wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to make Veronica big in America and rake in gazillions in royalties. Not to be outdone, Emery told me how much money his firm brought in last financial year, and that he could have been a great footballer like Blaine until a knee injury cut short his promising career. I tried to bring the conversation around to Tammy. ‘The Foundation is a very vorthy cause.’ ‘My idea.’ Billy pointed at himself, got his little baggie out and shoved the coke spoon up his nose. ‘I just hope that something good can come out of Tamara’s unfortunate life and death.’ Emery was smooth as an ad for Old Gold Chocolate. ‘She had it coming.’ Billy hoiked something stuck in his nasal passages. Emery glared. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Wadey; you couldn’t stand her. She was a scammer with a smart mouth.’ Emery banged his drink down on the glass coffee table and champagne bubbled over the sides. ‘That’s enough.’ Chloe lit a Winfield.Billy did another spoonful.He was on a roll. He spread out his hands. ‘I’m not trying to be nasty, girls. I’m a realist, call it like I see it. Can’t get anywhere in this business if 176
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 177
rubdown
you’re not. Come on,Wadey.’ He leaned over and chucked Emery on the shoulder.‘You love me for it. She was a pro, for fuck’s sake. No matter she did handjobs, probably fucking them on the side. Did whatever she could for a buck.’ He suddenly remembered he was talking to a stripper and a porn star. ‘Not like you girls, of course. What you do isn’t prostitution, it’s art, yeah, creative artists like Veronica.’ He pointed to her through the crowd. I wasn’t getting anywhere so I decided to go out on a limb. ‘Vot voz going on vist you and de transvestite at Tamara’s funeral?’ I asked. Billy and Emery stared at me. ‘I saw pictures in paper of fight. Very strange.’ Billy flicked his eyes Emery’s way. ‘Fucked if I know. Crazy freak came over and attacked me. Never saw the thing before in my life.’ He rubbed his nose. Emery was looking at me very carefully, studying my face. Chloe came to my rescue. ‘Oh my god!’ she squealed. ‘My contact lens just popped out. It’s fallen between my boobs!’ Soon as their attention was taken I slipped away, heading to the bar on the other side of the room. I couldn’t see Blaine but Veronica was surrounded by a gaggle of females and shadowed by buzz-cut. As well as the bodyguard, three equally large security personnel were dotted around the room. The fear leapt from my stomach to my throat. It was time for a whisky to tamp it down. Football players crowded the bar, looking like hitmen in their expensive suits, and I squeezed through and ordered a Jameson’s, straight up. Word had obviously got round that I was a German porn star because they started talking loudly about Hitler, golden showers and double ended dildos. I finished my drink and had turned to leave when a big guy with curly blonde hair grabbed my arm. ‘Hey, fräulein, where you going? Come back to our room and we’ll show you how it’s done, Aussie style.’ 177
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 178
leighredhead
His mates laughed and broke into a chorus of, ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie, oi, oi, oi.’ Didn’t these dickheads ever learn? I pulled my notebook from my purse, dropped the accent and poised my pen. ‘Hi, guys, Sandra Billings, journalist with The Age. Care to comment on allegations the AFL has a culture of misogyny and male bonding through group sex?’ I’d blown my cover, but it was worth it to see their faces. Just then I clocked Blaine on his own, coming out of the bathroom. I left the footballers pale and trembling, hurried over and cornered him by a bronze statue. ‘Hi, Blaine.’ I used my normal voice. ‘Oh hi.You’re that German porn star.’ ‘That’s me. Can I ask you a couple of questions? When I’m not engaging in kinky sex I moonlight as a private detective.’ ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘You don’t sound German.’ ‘Well spotted. I think your sister Tamara was murdered. Any idea who’d want her dead?’ ‘Wha-what?’ He stared across the room, trying to catch the bodyguard’s eye. It didn’t work. From the tilt of the big guy’s head it was obvious he was checking out celebrity cleavage from behind his shades. ‘Did Tamara ever ask you for money to buy a couple of apartments in Queensland?’ I moved in close and held on to his jacket so he wouldn’t run off. ‘I couldn’t give it to her. Dad’s invested all my money in trust.’ Still looking around. Big as he was, he was only twenty years old. ‘Do you know a transsexual prostitute named Lulu?’ ‘Na … no.’ He blushed. ‘Don’t lie to me, Blaine. She was at the funeral, fighting with Billy.What were they fighting about?’ ‘I don’t have to talk to you!’ He shook me off, eyes glimmering 178
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 179
rubdown
with tears, and disappeared into the crowd. I saw Chloe looking for me and waved her over. ‘Come to the loos,’ she said. The marble bathroom was enormous. Twin sinks, lights around the mirror and a spa with city views flanked by two toilet cubicles. I set my drink down and reapplied lip gloss. Chloe clutched my arm. Her eyes were glassy and she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. ‘Emery and Billy want us to come to the Daily Planet. They’re gonna hire the Roman room and a couple of girls and have an orgy.What do I tell them?’ ‘Don’t worry, babe. I’ve blown my cover anyway so I’m just going to hang a slash then we sneak out, okay?’ We retired to separate cubicles and as I peed I heard the door open and high heels clattering. ‘Can you believe Emery and Billy brought those two skanks?’ It was Veronica. ‘I know. It’s sooo wrong. Did you hear one of them is a porn star?’ ‘That is sooo gross. And that stripper? God knows how she ever got on TV. She’s ugly and she has a huuuge arse.’ Uh-oh. I whipped up my undies, but it was too late. Chloe’s cubicle door banged against the wall. I opened mine and saw Veronica and a skinny blonde from a home renovation show huddle together and squeal. ‘Huge arse?’ said Chloe. Marilyn had gone and Frankston bushpig had taken her place. ‘What would you know, you anorexic bitch?’ Veronica’s leg was trembling, but she tossed her hair. She was, after all, Veronica. The DIY chick, Carlee I think her name was, clung to her arm. ‘Sluts like you don’t belong at the functions I go to,’ Veronica said. ‘You’re a wannabe. I’d rather hang out with the latest Big 179
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 180
leighredhead
Brother evictees than a ho.Why don’t you get back under whichever rock it was you crawled out from.’ Chloe straightened up to her full height of five foot four in platform heels and puffed out her chest.‘At least I don’t sing crap songs and pretend to be a virgin.’ And then she went for her. Veronica and Carlee screamed and ran through the door back into the party but Chloe was right behind. She leapt onto Veronica’s back and knocked her to the floor, scratching and spitting. Veronica held up her hands and wailed, ‘No, not my face!’ Carlee tried to assist by hitting Chloe on the head with a small jewelled handbag. The rest of the guests surged forward to see what was going on. I didn’t much like Veronica, or her music, so I let Chloe lay in a couple of punches before I tried to pull her off. Damned if I could detach her. She had the strength and fury of a cat in a flea bath. The bouncers descended. I was lifted into the air, dress riding up, and had a sickening flashback to being attacked by the canal. It took two of them to wrench Chloe off Veronica, one at her shoulders, the other holding her ankles, and she writhed like an S11 protester, screaming and calling everybody motherfuckers. Emery, Billy and the bodyguard were on the other side of the room, trying to push through the party-goers and straining their necks to see what was going on. Veronica struggled to her feet and smoothed down her hair. ‘Those two started it! Throw them out!’ The bouncer chucked me over his shoulder and my wig fell off. Emery’s eyes grew wide! He turned to buzz-cut. ‘Jurgen! It’s her!’ Jurgen made for me but the crowd held him back. The bouncers threw us in the hallway and locked the door. I pressed the button for the lift and willed it to come quickly. 180
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 181
rubdown
Chloe picked herself off the plush carpet and started kicking the door. ‘Come out, ya cunts, I’m not fucking finished with youse yet!’ The elevator pinged and the door opened. I grabbed Chloe’s arm. ‘We better get out of here. Now.’
181
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 182
chapterthirty
S
ean and I drove down Royal Parade past Melbourne uni. Oak trees lined the wide boulevard, pale sunlight glimmering through burnished leaves. It was about seventeen degrees, positively balmy for Melbourne in April. We were on our way to visit Curtis and the rest of the A-team at St Vincent’s. Although A was an ambitious letter for us. I wouldn’t have called us Z exactly but we did hover around the arse end of the alphabet. Stopping behind a green tram I watched the doors fold inward and young people with books and backpacks scuttle out. In our jeans and t-shirts Sean and I could have passed for students ourselves, except that we had slightly more pressing concerns than late essays and whether to see a band at the Arthouse or the Tote on Friday night. 182
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 183
rubdown
Sean slid his hand onto my inner thigh and squeezed. Jesus. We’d only just done it, but suddenly I was ready to go again. I leaned over and kissed his freckled arm. His phone rang and he moved the hand to answer it. Probably just as well. Didn’t want to have to change my knickers this early in the day. As the call went on his mouth turned down.‘Yeah, mate. No, I completely understand.’ He pressed end. ‘What’s up?’ ‘Friend I was going to rent my flat to heard about the shooting and got cold feet. I can’t find someone in a week.’ ‘What about an estate agent?’ He shook his head.‘Wanted someone I knew so I could leave all my stuff in the spare room.’ ‘Curtis is looking for a place.’ I said.
We found Curtis lying on his side, bandaged arse poking through his hospital gown. His laptop was on the bed next to him and one hand flew across the keys. He looked up for a second. ‘Hey, don’t mind me. Gotta deadline. Human interest story for the Sunday Herald Sun. Caught in the crossfire. The day I took a bullet by Curtis Malone.’ Chloe sat on a grey vinyl armchair, cutting out articles from women’s magazines and fixing them into a scrapbook with a glue stick. She jumped up and hugged both of us, took the bunch of gerberas I’d bought in the lobby and arranged them in a vase before fussing around Curtis. ‘You okay, baby? You want a drink? Packet of Twisties? I could go to the machine.’ ‘No thanks.’ Curtis kept typing. Sean and I looked at each other. Baby? 183
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 184
leighredhead
‘How’d you shape up after last night?’ I asked. ‘Not bad. I’ve got the black doctor to help me through.’ She pointed to a litre bottle of Coke. ‘Hey. It’s Mr T.’ Tony stood in the doorway wearing khaki shorts and a multicoloured Hawaiian shirt. Faded tattoos twined around his solid arms and hairy legs and I could see why he would’ve been good at undercover. He looked more like a crim than a cop. To Tony’s horror Chloe ran over and wrapped him in a hug. She could be quite touchy-feely, and I guessed the shooting had made her feel bonded to everyone, kind of like we’d been to summer camp together. Tony nodded at Sean and me over her shoulder, patted her back and flushed red beneath his olive skin. When she let go he pulled a box of Roses chocolates out of his shorts pocket and placed them on the table next to Curtis. ‘There you go, mate, how you holding up?’ ‘Yeah, not bad. They’re letting me out in a couple of days. Thanks for the chocolates, Mr T.’ Tony shook his head and dragged a plastic chair over from the other side of the room. ‘Get anything on Wade?’ Sean asked. ‘Nah.’ Tony sat with his legs wide apart, jiggling the left one. ‘Bloke’s a cleanskin. Financially secure, investments aboveboard.’ He turned to me. ‘I’ve talked to my solicitor. Knows the Private Agents Act inside out. Reckons it’s going to be dicey, but he’ll represent you.What’s been happening at your end?’ Sean was leaning against the foot of the bed.‘Fitzroy CIU thinks the shooting was related to Neville Annis. Payback for Craig.’ ‘What do you reckon?’ ‘I don’t buy it. Simone and I were responsible for setting the operation in motion but Vincent Pirelli shot Craig. Besides, Neville’s still in hospital.’ 184
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 185
rubdown
‘Chloe and I went to the Tamara Wade Benefit last night.’ I perched on the arm of the chair next to her. Tony raised his eyebrows and I outlined what had happened, fully intending to gloss over the debacle at the end of the night, until Chloe butted in and recounted her cat fight with relish, leaping out of her chair to reenact the struggle. ‘What a disaster,’ Tony groaned. ‘Not entirely,’ I said. ‘I found out Tammy hit her brother up for money to buy an apartment. There was no love lost between Tammy and her stepfather, and Billy hated her too. He and Blaine were lying when they said they didn’t know Lulu, I could tell.’ ‘And we found out Emery and Billy go to the Daily Planet when they’re after a root,’ Chloe said. Tony leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ‘Daily Planet? I know someone who works there.’ ‘In the biblical sense?’ Curtis smirked. Was it just me or was Tony blushing again? ‘No. Can’t work undercover for ten years without meeting half the working ladies in town. I could give Dahlia a call, see if she knows anything about Wade.’ ‘Great,’ said Sean. ‘Meanwhile Simone and I are off to the Greyhound tonight to take in a drag show.’ Tony shuddered. ‘Better you than me, mate. How about the drug dealing ponce Tammy used to go out with? What’s his name—Damien?’ ‘Tomorrow at Wicked.You right for eight in the morning?’ ‘No worries.’ Tony said goodbye and I followed him out into the corridor. ‘I’m really sorry about this mess,’ I said, almost adding that it wasn’t my fault until I remembered that it was. ‘That’s okay, kiddo. Shit happens, we’ll sort it out.’ He gave me a small smile. His tone of voice didn’t match his words. 185
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 186
leighredhead
Back in the room Sean was telling Curtis about the flat and Curtis was nodding his head and saying, ‘Fantastic’. Chloe stuck one final article in her scrapbook, slapped it closed and handed it to me. ‘What’s this?’ ‘Research. I went through all my old mags and cut out every article I could find about Veronica and Blaine. There are about twenty.’ ‘Thanks.’ I hugged her. It was a sweet thing to do. Totally useless, but sweet all the same. ‘Oh yeah,’ she said. ‘Mandy called. She wants her tits back.’
Sean and I drove to his place so I could pick up my car. The Beast tends to seize up if she’s not driven regularly. I was about to hop in and drive her back to the hotel when he stopped me. ‘Let’s just check something first.’ He lay on his back and dragged himself under the chassis. ‘Reckon Wade’s gonna blow me up?’ I joked, suddenly nervous. ‘Look at this.’ I scrambled under the car, rocks and gravel scraping my back. He pointed to the rear mudguard. Attached was a black box the size of a cigarette packet. A wire aerial ran between the box and the rear bumper bar. ‘Remote tracking device.’ He said. ‘Transmits to a laptop and your car shows up as a dot on a Melways map.’ ‘Get it off!’ He reached for the disk and stopped.‘I think we should leave it. Doesn’t tip our hand and it could be useful down the track.’
186
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 187
chapterthirty-one
S
ean stood at the bar trying to get us a drink. I was behind him, hanging on to his belt loop. I’d never seen the back room of the Greyhound so packed, but then I’d never been there on drag night. Men in tight t-shirts cruised around checking each other out, and drag queens swanned about regally, towering over everyone with heels and hairpieces. Their makeup was thick and elaborate, huge painted-on lips, long false lashes and lots of glitter. Sort of like stripper to the power of ten. It was dark except for the mirror ball and the stage but that was just as well. I’d had the misfortune to be in the back room once when the lights came up. I shuddered at the memory of a carpet that looked like it had been burned in a fire, swamped with water, and partly decomposed before developing a scab-like crust. Worse than the carpet had been the realisation that the guy I’d 187
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 188
leighredhead
flirted with for an hour was not so much a young Peter Fonda as a current Peter Costello. On stage a seven foot Dusty Springfield mimed‘Son of a Preacher Man’ in front of a glittering tinsel curtain. Buff young things with oiled chests and gold hotpants pranced on either side of her. Sean handed me a mini bottle of Great Western and shouted in my ear: ‘I think we should split up.You look for Lulu and I’ll get a line on Geisha.’ ‘Can’t I be your fag-hag?’ I yelled back. He detached my fingers from the waist of his jeans.‘Girlfriend, you are already cramping my style.’ I poked my tongue out and took off into the crowd, determined to find Lulu if she was there to be found. I squeezed through the crush of bodies, smelling sweat, cologne, hair products and lust. Not for me, though. I’d never been around so many men and been so comprehensively ignored. I was up the front when Dusty left the stage and the compere introduced Geisha. She was petite, with a China-girl bob, and wore black mesh and satin shorts as she mimed and danced to ‘All That Jazz’.When she left the stage a muscular Kylie Minogue got up and performed ‘Better the Devil You Know’. The crowd, all taller than me, were singing and dancing and I was getting jostled around and finding it hard to breathe. Feeling faint, I retreated to the bar, ordered another cheap champagne and surveyed the darkness for Lulu until my eyeballs got sore.When I turned to pay for my drink I saw Geisha right there, buying a gin and tonic. I knew she was supposed to be Sean’s responsibility, but it wouldn’t hurt for me to have a crack. ‘Loved your show,’ I spoke loudly over the music. ‘You’re too kind.’ She paid for her drink, turned and waved to someone across the room. Opium perfume wafted through the air. ‘Seen Lulu lately?’ I asked. 188
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 189
rubdown
Her head snapped back and she looked me up and down while she sipped her G&T through a straw. Liquid liner swept catlike from the outer corners of her eyes and her mouth was a glossy red bow. ‘And who the fuck are you?’ ‘A friend. I work with her at Good Times. She hasn’t shown up for work and everyone’s worried.’ ‘Probably met some guy, took off for a while.’ She dismissed me, turning her gaze toward the stage. I made my voice hard.‘Her best friend was murdered, her place was turned over and now she’s missing. If you have any idea—’ She started to walk off so I grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around. ‘Lulu called me,’ I said, ‘told me Emery Wade was trying to kill her.’ Geisha’s feline eyes flashed. ‘Hands off the merchandise, girlfriend.’ She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. A no neck bouncer ambled over. God, not again. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ I protested. ‘She called me a freak!’ Geisha said. ‘Shame on you,’ another queen tutted. ‘I didn’t, I—’ The bouncer grabbed my upper arm, frogmarched me to the door and pushed me out onto the street. I turned around, considered making a comment about steroids and shrivelled genitalia, thought better of it and gave him a stern look instead. That’d show him. I crossed Brighton Road and when I got to Sean’s car remembered it was locked. I settled down on the kerb to wait, shivering in my snakeskin skirt and low cut top, watching traffic stream up from the southern suburbs to the city—mostly P-plated cars packed with young guys ready for a night cruising Chapel Street and doing blockies in St Kilda, shouting at all the street workers. Sean finally emerged from the bar; I stood up and waved him over. 189
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 190
leighredhead
‘What happened to you?’ he asked. ‘Geisha lied to me, then got me kicked out. I swear she knows where Lulu is.We have to follow her, find where she lives.’ ‘No need.’ He flashed a beer coaster. ‘I’ve got her home number. Only take a phone call to find out her address.’ ‘How’d you get that?’ I asked. ‘Simone, darling, you are not the only one who can wiggle your tush and make men do your evil bidding.’ It was then I noticed a red lipstick mark on his cheek. ‘You fucking tart,’ I said, impressed. ‘Takes one to know one, honey.’
190
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 191
chapterthirty-two
I
t was eight am and I was in the back seat of Tony’s dark blue Pajero, parked outside Wicked. The day club was a converted red brick factory in a semi industrial area in Prahran. The weather had gone cold again and the sky was low and grey. Sean and Tony were in front, looking like detectives in sober navy suits. I, on the other hand, looked like a world class skank in silver lamé hotpants with matching halter top, strappy white heels and a white fake fur jacket. It was too early for this shit and I was too damn sober. I handed the mug shot of Damien Trentham back to Sean. ‘He’s not going to go for it.’ ‘Sure he will,’ he said. ‘He’s a bloke, isn’t he?’ Tony added. Sean swivelled around in his seat and rubbed my bare knee. ‘Just get him out to his car.We’ll do the rest.’ 191
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 192
leighredhead
Tony looked at his watch. ‘I’m taking my daughter to netball at ten.’ ‘Alright.’ I unwrapped a Chupa-chup and stuck it between my teeth, synthetic strawberry flavour flooding my mouth.‘I’m going.’ I slid out of the seat, slammed the door and wobbled across the uneven road in my tacky heels. The lamé shorts rode up my arse crack and I resisted the urge to dig them out, knowing Tony and Sean were watching. The bouncer waved me through the front entrance and I paid a snooty blonde ten bucks, passed through another door and day turned into night. The club was cavernous and dark with laser lights piercing the smoky fug. Rapid fire techno set my teeth on edge and I headed straight for the bar on the left side of the room. Clubbers danced in the middle, hands held up as if worshipping the laser lights. Topless guys with oiled chests and ecstatic, haggard faces thrust their groins on podiums and the couches were a tangle of arms and legs, drug-fucked people rubbing each other’s shoulders, talking close. I decided a champagne breakfast was in order. Three quick drinks later I was sufficiently lubricated to embark on my mission. I’d had my eye on Damien for half an hour. He’d been bouncing around the club in his oversized jeans and white singlet, baseball cap sideways, palming people drugs, pocketing money and disappearing into the toilets on a regular basis. He was quite a good looking boy, with an arrogant pout and brown hair that flopped over his forehead, but his looks were completely ruined by his atrocious attempt at ghetto cool, the white-grey pallor of his skin, and the skinny arms and concave chest that were testament to a diet of amphetamines and RedBull. I drained my glass and attempted to groove casually to the middle of the dance floor where my target was doing business. 192
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 193
rubdown
Easier said than done. The music I usually listened to was the kind that made your hips sway from side to side. The shit they were playing seemed more suited to hopping up and down like a demented bunny rabbit. Luckily everyone was too wasted to notice my awkward jerking and before too long I was beside Damien, and lurched into him, stringing one arm around his neck and pressing my breasts into his chest. ‘Hi, gorgeous. Know where I can score?’ I pretended to stagger and he caught me round the waist. Up close he smelled like spearmint chewy and that Lynx deodorant the ads tell you is irresistible to chicks but just gets up your nose. ‘What you after, baby?’ Was it just me or was he affecting an American accent? ‘An E. I’m coming down and I really don’t wanna come down.You know?’ His hand moved down to my butt cheek and squeezed. I ground my teeth, but he probably thought it was because of the drugs. ‘I can sort you out. Got some really good ones, Mitsubishis. Fifty bucks.’ He chewed rapidly, mouth open. ‘Slight problem. I spent all my money.’ ‘Can’t help you then, sweetheart. Maybe you better go home to bed.’ He started to move away, but I pushed against him some more and talked in his ear. ‘Can’t I pay you some other way?’ He turned back and grinned and chewed at the same time. ‘What’d ya have in mind?’ I couldn’t bring myself to say it so I slipped the lollipop out of my mouth, swirled my tongue around the top and gobbed it a couple of times. Damien got the message. ‘Alright.’ He started leading me to the men’s toilets. Oh no. Not good. ‘Don’t you have a car?’ I whined. 193
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 194
leighredhead
‘Baby, I have a fucking beemer.’ Now I hated him even more, but I said,‘BMWs get me so hot.’ It worked. He slipped on a pair of Black Fly sunglasses and then I was following him out the club and down a cobbled laneway. His glossy black sedan was parked behind a rubbish skip and had a ticket, which he ignored. As I shivered in the cold, waiting for him to open the passenger door, I resisted the urge to take my keys and give the paintwork a little scratch. Inside the car smelled like new upholstery and old cigarettes. He reclined his seat and slid a CD into the player. It was a charming rap number about bitches and ho’s. He unzipped his loose denims. ‘Blow job first, then you get the pill, yeah?’ ‘Sure.’ ‘I gotta tell you, it can take me a while to come when I’m on the gear.’ He dug around in his boxer shorts and eventually produced a shrivelled pink thing that put me in mind of a rat foetus. ‘What are you waiting for babe?’ The door nearly flew off its hinges as Tony and Sean wrenched it open.‘Police!’ They dragged him out of the car and slammed him into a brick wall so hard his sunnies flew off and clattered to the ground. Sean shoved his ID in Damien’s face and Tony patted him down while he desperately tried to shove his dick back in his jeans. I got out of the car, sat on the bonnet and crossed my arms. Tony pulled a plastic ziplock bag full of tablets out of Damien’s back pocket. ‘What’s this, then?’ ‘Dunno.’ Once zipped he recovered his composure. ‘Never seen it before in my life.’ Sean shoved him back against the wall and got in his face.‘Cut the crap, arsehole. This bag’s got your filthy prints all over it.’ I stifled a laugh. I’d done a fairly convincing drug whore but 194
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 195
rubdown
Sean had a direct line to DeNiro. I tried to recall every cop drama I’d ever seen and piped up: ‘The suspect indicated he would provide me with an ecstasy tablet on the condition I performed an act of oral copulation on his person.’ Damien’s eyes bugged out. ‘You’re a cop?’ ‘Damn right. Think I’d really want to suck your disgusting little dick?’ ‘Why not?’ He shrugged.‘I’ve had heaps better looking chicks than you. I’ve had models.’ Sean pushed him and his head cracked against the wall. ‘Owww. Police brutality.’ ‘Shut the fuck up. We’ve got you on tape offering Detective Tennyson drugs.’ Tennyson? I sure hoped Damien was too young for the ‘Prime Suspect’ series. ‘We’ve got seven tabs of MDMA,’ Sean continued. ‘Personal use.’ ‘Must be planning a big weekend,’ Tony said. ‘Something like that.’ Damien smirked. Sean bunched the front of Damien’s singlet in his fist and lifted the skinny little dealer onto the balls of his feet. Sean was definitely in the wrong profession. He should have auditioned for NIDA. ‘Hold off, Rebus.’ Tony touched Sean’s shoulder. Rebus? He had to be joking. Sean released his grip, stalked over to the BMW and leaned his palms on the bonnet like he was trying to contain his rage. With his back to Damien he winked at me, then crossed his eyes and poked out his tongue. I covered my mouth with my hand and turned the laugh into a cough. Tony was saying, ‘We just need some information on Tamara Wade.’ ‘Who?’ said Damien. 195
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 196
leighredhead
Sean slapped the bonnet and whirled around.‘Fuck this! We’re taking him in.Wexford, read him his rights.’ Wexford? That was taking it too far. I studied Damien’s face but there was no recognition. Obviously he didn’t read much, or stay at home on Friday nights with a cuppa, watching the ABC. Tony said,‘Son, trafficking drugs means a prison term. And this isn’t exactly your first offence, Daddy can’t bail you out this time.’ ‘No way, I know my rights. Less than three grams, personal—’ Sean smacked the wall next to Damien’s head. ‘You think I can’t bump this up with shit from the evidence locker? You think I wouldn’t do that? You think I’m a nice freaking guy, dirtbag? Couple of years in Port Phillip.’ He hissed in his ear, ‘Think your virgin arse can take it, pretty boy?’ ‘Oh man,’ Damien whined. ‘Talk to us,’ Tony said softly. I jumped off the bonnet and walked over. ‘Tell us everything you know about Tamara Wade and we’ll leave you alone. Where did you meet her?’ ‘At, at the Good Times Club. I thought she was a bit of a glamour so I didn’t let her pull my dick.’ His eyes darted to Tony then Sean. ‘That’s how you pick up a working girl, you know, act like you’re not interested in having sex with her. I spun some shit about how I’d never been to one of those places before, you know, just broke up with my girlfriend and a mate made me go. Gets them interested and you can see them outside work and fuck ’em for free.’ ‘Charming,’ said Tony. Sean narrowed his eyes and spat on the ground. I said, ‘While you were fucking her for free did she ever talk about her father?’ ‘All the time. She was trying to get money off him so she could move up to Surfers. Reckoned her folks owed her since they’d 196
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 197
rubdown
spent more than half a mill on Blaine over the years. Course he never coughed up. Dad’s loaded but tighter than a fish’s arsehole. At first she wanted to knock him off but reckoned she probably wasn’t even in the will. Then she told me she had something on him. Something he’d pay to keep quiet.’ ‘What?’ we all said in unison. Damien realised he had us. His shoulders loosened and he hitched up his pants. He leaned back on the wall like we were all mates, shooting the breeze.‘Shit, I asked the same question but she wouldn’t tell me. Didn’t want anyone else cutting in on her scam. I reckoned the old bastard was a rock spider, fiddled around with her when she was young. Lot of those bigwigs can be pretty twisted underneath. I’m telling you, it’s the straight ones you gotta watch out for.’
Tony was driving us back to the hotel, down the steep hill on Punt Road just before the Hoddle Street Bridge crosses the river. The clock on the Nylex sign told us it was nine fifteen and twelve degrees. I was leaning between the front seats, trying to get hot air from the heater on my mottled, goose pimpled legs. ‘At least we know Emery had a motive for killing Tammy.’ ‘But how do we prove it?’ asked Sean. As we crossed the bridge I saw rowers slice narrow boats through the river, mist rising up from the water. ‘Lulu. I know she’s got hard evidence. Why else would they have torn her place apart?’ ‘Has she called you again?’ Tony asked. ‘No.’ I’d checked my answer machine remotely. ‘Maybe she’s dead.’ 197
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 198
leighredhead
I’d been trying not to think that. ‘We can try Carlisle Street, or her friend Geisha’s place.’ Tony’s car phone rang and he put on a headpiece and answered. I slipped my palm onto Sean’s leg and he rested his hand on mine. Outside a man in a beanie and Richmond footy scarf was walking a dog through Olympic Park. The trees were spindly and had lost almost all their leaves. Tony hung up the phone. ‘That was Dahlia, the girl I know from Daily Planet. She has some information on Wade.’ ‘What?’ ‘Won’t say over the phone.’ ‘When are you going to see her?’ ‘I’m not. She wants to see you. Read about you in the paper last year.’ ‘Where do I meet her?’ Tony was silent for a second. I leaned between the seats and saw he was smiling. ‘She’ll only meet you at work.You’ll have to make an hour booking and go up to the room.’ ‘Can I come too?’ asked Sean.
When Tony dropped us at the hotel the family next door were checking out, packing up their station wagon. The husband’s eyes opened wide and his wife’s mouth pursed as she hurriedly strapped the two kids into the car. At our room I reached into my bag for the key. ‘See her face?’ I asked. ‘She can obviously tell I’m a hard-arse cop who doesn’t play by the rules and you’re the filthy little crack-whore I screw on the side.’ ‘I love it when you talk dirty.’ Still method acting, Sean spun me about and pushed me 198
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 199
rubdown
against the door, lifted my leg around his waist and put his hand up my top.When he bit my neck the smell of his cologne induced a sort of Pavlov’s dog reaction and my knees went weak. I looked over his shoulder and saw the wife hitting her husband, screaming at him to drive. Grabbing Sean’s butt to freak her out a bit more, I felt something metallic in his back pocket, slid my fingers in and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The wagon took off in a shower of gravel. I dangled the cuffs between us. ‘What are these for?’ ‘Thought I might have had to restrain the suspect.’ ‘Be a shame for them to go to waste.’ He snatched the handcuffs off me and clamped one round my wrist. The cold steel squeezing my skin brought a lump to my throat and a moistness to my silver hotpants. I said, ‘You know how the symbol for Virgo is the virgin?’ ‘Uh-huh.’ His voice was throaty and he had his knee between my legs. ‘Kind of false advertising, don’t you think?’
199
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 200
chapterthirty-three
T
he Daily Planet was opposite Elsternwick railway station, across the road from the shiny new apartments and shops that had sprouted out of the old station car park. The big blue building had a globe of the world stuck to its façade, with a radio antenna and a couple of lightning bolts, just like in the Superman comics. I’d had a few champagnes at the Elsternwick Hotel and left a disappointed Sean in the public bar while I clopped up the road in my spike heeled boots. Not knowing quite what a girl wore to a brothel if she wasn’t in fact working there, I’d eventually settled on the tight knee length snakeskin skirt, black top and my beloved brown suede coat. I actually looked forward to Melbourne winters just so I could swan around in it. I rubbed my wrist where the handcuffs had left a small purple 200
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 201
rubdown
bruise. Just thinking about being chained to the bed while Sean had his evil way got me worked up again. I could go without rooting, if I had to, but once I started getting it I could think of little else. I shook my head. I had an appointment in a brothel. This was no time to be thinking about sex. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked into a small marble reception area. The front desk sat behind a glass wall and the receptionist smiled when she saw me. She looked part Indian, with close cropped black hair, a pixie face and large brown eyes. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘My name’s Simone. I have an appointment with Dahlia for seven.’ ‘Certainly.’ She asked me for a hundred and twenty dollars to cover the house fee and gave me a yellow receipt. I wondered if I could claim it on tax and made a mental note to ask Tony.‘Dahlia won’t be long. I’ll get Jessica to show you through.’ A door to the right of the desk clicked open and a girl with a black bob and a fringed blue dress said hello. I followed her down a hallway lined with pictures of models in bodypainted AFL uniforms and wondered if there was a shop somewhere in Melbourne that specialised in ‘brothel art’. We turned left at an old fashioned red phone box next to a fake tree with small white leaves, and entered a lounge area. Through an archway I saw a room with pool tables, computer games and a jukebox.We turned right and went down a few steps into a sunken bar. Round tables dotted the room, surrounded by low armchairs upholstered in red and blue fabric. The walls were decorated with plaster columns and painted in trompe l’oeil style, creating the illusion of a formal garden in a French country manor. A few men sat around talking to women in evening wear. On one wall a huge screen played a porn movie that seemed to have been inspired by Gladiator, although I couldn’t recall the 201
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 202
leighredhead
scene where Russell Crowe had group sex in the Colosseum with a bunch of surgically enhanced wenches in vine leaves and gold sandals. The lighting was low, reddish and the music Dido. I sat at the black and white marble bar next to an Italian coffee machine and Jessica offered me a drink. ‘What’s the strongest thing you’ve got?’ ‘Light beer.’ ‘Bring it on.’ I drank quickly, hoping it would have some effect. Not that I had anything to be nervous about. I was just going to go into the room, ask a bunch of questions and leave. Still, when a cultured voice said my name and I swivelled around, I felt like a clammy eighteen year old about to get his cherry popped. ‘I’m Dahlia.’ She wore a fire-engine red dress split on one side to reveal a pale, curvy thigh. Long auburn hair highlighted with gold framed her heart shaped face. She had the most enormous blue eyes I’d ever seen, with long curved lashes. ‘Nice to meet you.’ The skin on her small white hand was cool and soft. I guessed she was five four but her clear perspex heels bought her an extra three inches and we stood face to face. ‘Just this way.’ I followed her down a hallway, up some stairs and down another hall. ‘What a rabbit warren. How many rooms?’ I asked. ‘Eighteen.’ ‘Why so many when most brothels are only allowed six?’ ‘Daily Planet was around before prostitution was legalised and I think they got some sort of special dispensation to operate.’ Sue showed me into a room with Xanadu marked on the door and collected a further hundred and twenty dollars off me. A large round spa was flanked by columns and she turned on the taps, said she’d be back shortly and left the room. I nicked into the ensuite 202
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 203
rubdown
bathroom, peed, and came out and sat on the bed. It was a four poster number covered in red fabric brocaded with gold, matching pillows at the head. Mirrors lined the walls and ceiling and a pyramid of yellow towels balanced on a chair. Dahlia came back and checked the water level in the spa. She let the taps run, leaned on the marble edge and smiled at me.‘I’ve always been curious to meet you.’ ‘Me? Why?’ ‘I read about you in the paper when you saved your friend. Stripper turned private investigator.You took on that cop and the gangster. Very brave.’ ‘Not brave, just desperate, kind of like now. Tony said you could tell me about Emery Wade.’ ‘Let’s have a spa first.’ She kicked off her shoes, stood in front of me and peeled off her dress. She unclipped a red lace bra, slid down a matching g-string and laid the lot over the back of a chair. She had lush, womanly breasts and, judging by her pubes, the auburn hair was natural. She padded over to the table by the bed, picked up one of those clips that look like two curved chopsticks and secured her mane on top of her head. When she’d climbed the marble steps, slipped into the steaming water and rested her arms out along the edge of the spa, she cocked her head. ‘What are you waiting for?’ ‘Think I’ll pass. Don’t want to get my hair wet.’ ‘Hair elastic. Top drawer. You have to come in. It’s the only way I can tell you’re not gigged up.’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Wearing a wire. Girl can’t be too careful these days.’ She was smiling and gazing at me steadily. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or just fucking with me, but what I did know was I really needed this information. And it wasn’t like going naked was going to freak me out. I mean, half of 203
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 204
leighredhead
Melbourne had seen my box—one more wasn’t going to make much difference. I opened the drawer, found a hair band next to some condoms and sachets of Wetstuff and tied my hair in a high ponytail. She watched as I undressed and laid my clothes on the bed, her eyes glinting in the low light.‘Where do you get your triple X?’ ‘Grace at Airs and Graces, North Melbourne.’ I’d slutted around in the past but always came back to her. Couldn’t entrust your pussy wax to just anyone.‘You?’ ‘Vanity, Chapel Street.’ ‘Oh.’ I slipped into the water. Dahlia hit a button and jets of air shot out from the sides and bubbled up to the surface. I wriggled around and positioned a powerful blast on the base of my spine. Heaven, as long as you didn’t visualise the kind of action this spa had probably seen over the years. As if reading my mind she said. ‘Sex isn’t allowed in the spas. So, do you still strip?’ ‘No.’ I wished she’d get around to Emery Wade. ‘Why not?’ ‘I’m an inquiry agent now. Sometimes I have to give evidence in court. They’ll tear you to pieces if they find out you’re on the wrong side of the law.’ ‘Stripping’s not illegal.’ ‘Ha. If you do the shows the punters want to watch it is.What about you? Worked here long?’ I decided to go along with it and play the conversation game—though I’d thought if you paid for it you didn’t have to bother with foreplay. ‘Four years.’ ‘Get sick of it?’ ‘Not really. I only work one night a week.’ ‘What do you do the rest of the time?’ ‘I’m finishing my PhD.’ 204
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 205
rubdown
I wasn’t surprised. Most girls in the industry were studying something. ‘Impressive.What you studying?’ ‘Neurogenetics. I usually get round in a lab coat and glasses.’ I wiped sweat from my brow. The heat from the spa seemed to be intensifying the mild champagne buzz I’d had on arrival. ‘This may seem like a naff question, and I hate it when guys ask me, but do you ever get turned on when you…’ ‘Fuck clients?’ The swearword didn’t match her plummy accent. I nodded. ‘If they’re hot and have the sort of personality I click with, then I do.You’d be surprised how many good looking guys we get in here. If they’re not then the money turns me on sufficiently. I like doing couples best, or doubles with another girl. That’s fun. Very occasionally we get women coming in on their own.’ ‘Lesbians?’ ‘Mostly curious straight girls.’ The mirrors had steamed up and sweat beaded on my upper lip. I tipped my head from side to side, trying to straighten out the kinks in my neck. ‘Tension?’ she asked. ‘Yeah, well, having your life threatened tends to bring it on.’ ‘Scoot over here. I’ll give you a massage.’ ‘It’s okay.’ I shrugged. ‘Come on. I’ll give you a massage and tell you about Emery Wade.’ I slid over and sat in between her thighs. I could feel her thin strip of pubic hair press against my coccyx. Her delicate hands were surprisingly strong and I yelped as she dug her fingers into my shoulders and kneaded them up my neck. ‘Wow, you’re storing a lot of tension here, hard as a rock.’ ‘So what about Emery Wade?’ 205
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 206
leighredhead
‘Why do you want to know?’ ‘Jesus, Dahlia. I’m not here to fuck around. Tony told me—’ ‘And I’ll probably tell you, but I’ve got to be sure I’m doing the right thing. There’s an unwritten code of confidentiality in this job that I really respect.We’re kind of like priests or doctors. However, I am prepared to break that personal rule if the information I provide is going to prevent something bad happening. If it’s just muckraking I’m not interested. I decide on a case by case basis and it has to be something I can live with, ethically.’ ‘Do you get Tony in the spa and discuss ethical dilemmas when you give him information?’ She laughed and splashed water at me.‘Muckraking. Now tell me about Wade.’ ‘Can you keep a secret?’ ‘What do you think?’ I arched my back as she ran her knuckles down either side of my spine and said, ‘Tamara Wade was blackmailing her stepfather and I think he had her killed but made it look like suicide. Soon as I started investigating I had my life threatened and now Wade’s trying to take away my inquiry agent’s licence. A friend of Tammy’s, Lulu, insisted Wade killed Tammy and was trying to kill her. Now she’s missing, maybe dead. If I can find out what Tamara was blackmailing him with I might have a chance at getting some evidence against him.Without a shred of proof I’m fucked.’ She massaged me silently for a moment. Finally she said, ‘I don’t know if my information will help but I’ll tell you what I know. I never liked the prick anyway.’ ‘You saw him as a client?’ ‘Once. I refused to see him again.’ ‘Violent?’ ‘No, nothing like that. It was his arrogant, condescending attitude I couldn’t handle. Liked to head-fuck the girls, put them 206
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 207
rubdown
down to make himself feel good. But he did it in a really subtle way. Like, if he’d seen you before he might say, “Have you put on weight since we last met?” Or if it was your first time he’d say, “Oh, so is this your only job?” As if you were doing sex work because you were too stupid to do anything else.’ ‘Did you tell him about your PhD?’ ‘No way. I didn’t have to prove myself to a weasel like him. The other thing he was into was finding out what a girl absolutely wouldn’t do in the room, and offering her big money to do it. I don’t kiss clients unless I really fancy them. I can’t. To me it’s much more intimate than sex. So Wade just kept offering me more and more money. It was ridiculous. Got up to five thousand by the end.’ ‘Five grand for a tonguey?’ ‘Listen, I could have used the money, but it was the principle of the thing. When I told the other girls they said I was crazy to knock him back, but if I’d given in he would have won.’ I understood what she was saying. Dahlia went on: ‘I found out from the others that he’d hassle for anal, or oral sex without a condom. Didn’t matter to him as long as she didn’t want to do it. Pretty twisted, hey? But then the whole lot of them are fucked up, except for Blaine.’ ‘Blaine comes here?’ ‘Oh no, not anymore. Emery brought him in a couple of years ago when he turned eighteen, before he was selected for first grade. Real sweetie for a football player. Had trouble getting it up actually, but he didn’t make a big deal of it. Most guys blame you, even if it’s their own fault for drinking or taking too many drugs. Blaine was cool.We just sat in the spa and talked for the rest of the hour.’ ‘You said the whole lot of them.Who else comes in with Wade?’ ‘Neville Annis did a couple of times. Only stayed with Asian girls. Billy Chevelle always comes in with him. They like to hire a 207
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 208
leighredhead
couple of girls and swap around.Watch each other fuck. Bit homoerotic, if you ask me. I wouldn’t see Billy either. I’ve got some really lovely regulars. I don’t need to bother with idiots like them.’ ‘What’s so bad about Billy?’ ‘Where do I start? Thinks he’s god’s gift. Comes in coked up, fucks like a rabbit without being able to come. Likes to talk dirty, which is fine, except he gets off on saying really nasty stuff, calling the girls bitches and whores.’ ‘Why would anyone see him?’ ‘He tips well and he’s generous with his coke.’ Her thumbs made small circles on the base of my skull. I felt something click. ‘Hey, we’re getting somewhere here.’ She was right. My neck was feeling loose. My entire body was. She swirled her knuckles around my lower back and it felt so good my eyelids fluttered closed. The spa water made me drift against her and I felt her soft boobs bobbing against my back. Her perfume smelled like chocolate and flowers. One of her hands floated up to my neck and the other strayed to my left breast. I was so relaxed I didn’t even realise until she started tracing delicate circles around my nipple and it hardened underneath her fingertips. There’s a direct line goes from my nipples to my pussy and I felt a wetness that had nothing to do with the spa. Was I a lesbian without knowing it? What if I was bi? That would have been cool, twice the chance to score on a Saturday night. And if her hand moved lower? What if she led me over to the bed? Would I be able to say no? Did I want to say no? Would it qualify as cheating on Sean? Her skin was so soft. She kept talking. ‘But the worst of all was Emery’s personal trainer.What was his name? Bergen or something. He was so bad he was banned.’ ‘Why?’ 208
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 209
rubdown
‘Pushed me down on the bed and pinned me there. It was terrifying because he was huge, one of those body builders. But what really scared me were his eyes. They were flat, no emotion in them, just like a shark. I managed to push the panic button with my foot, but before security burst in he did the most disgusting thing. He licked my face with this horrible sticky tongue, and the saliva smelled hideous, metallic, like tooth decay.’ I pulled away from her. ‘Oh shit,’ I said.
209
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 210
chapterthirty-four
B
ack at the Elsternwick Hotel I couldn’t find Sean in the public bar. I searched the gaming room, then the main bar with its dark polished wood and red chesterfield lounges. No dice. Jazz filtered through from the bistro. Of course. Pensioners’ night. The oldies flashed their seniors cards for a six dollar roast and the baby grand got a workout by a band playing wartime hits. I walked through an arched doorway into the restaurant and there was Sean, in jeans and Converse sneakers, roaming around the room serenading the biddies with ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’. I leaned against the wall, crossed my arms and shook my head. Talk about the singing detective. He glanced over and smiled at me and I waved. A blue rinsed woman on her way back from the salad bar nudged me. ‘That your boyfriend, love?’ 210
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 211
rubdown
‘Sort of.’ ‘He’s cute. You keep an eye out. They may look like sweet little old ladies, but they’ll tear him apart given half the chance.’ Jesus. Sean finished the song and the seniors applauded and called for an encore. He shook his head and apologised, bowed and thanked the band for letting him stand in. His eyes were shining as he approached. Performance high. I knew the feeling but it had been a while since I’d had one myself. I clapped my hands. ‘You’re wasted in the police force. Think of all the good you could do in the world of dinner theatre.’ He placed one hand on the back of my head and kissed me, then drew away. ‘Your hair’s wet.’ ‘Spa.’ I ignored the questioning tilt of his eyebrows. ‘I know who attacked me.’
We sat in the Saab across the road from Bootcamp Personal Training. It was eight thirty and the rain that had been threatening all day had finally arrived. Large splotches crackled on the windscreen and traffic signals, car headlights and neon signs all melted together. Cars swished past on the wet road. While Sean finished his cigarette I wiped condensation off the window with the arm of my coat.We were parked outside the furniture shop where Alex and I had kissed before our big fight, and looking at the spot brought back the taste of whisky on his lips, the soft wool jumper, his stubble scratching my cheek. Sean nudged my ribs. ‘I said let’s check the place out. Jesus. You’re a million miles away. Did something happen at the Daily Planet?’ 211
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 212
leighredhead
‘Sean, if there had been anything other than a bit of light breast fondling, you’d be the first to know.’ As we hurried across the road I heard him behind me:‘Breast fondling? Really?’ We strolled past Bootcamp’s glass door, noting the closed sign and the blinking alarm unit at the bottom of the stairs. A perspex holder contained glossy leaflets and I plucked one out as we passed. Bootcamp Personal Training by Jurgen Van Annen. Drive, Discipline, Determination. The headline appeared in a military style font above a photo of a pair of weathered dog-tags. Up the street an internet café spilled fluorescent light onto the footpath. ‘Fancy a coffee?’ he asked. ‘I’d prefer a whisky.’ We raced inside out of the rain, paid for an hour on one of the computers and ordered an Earl Grey and a long black. Rolling our padded chairs together we looked over the leaflet. Inside was a list of services and prices. Bootcamp offered one-on-one studio sessions with Jurgen or one of his hand selected personal trainers, and the outdoor group training that gave the business its name. Busy executives paying top dollar to run along the beach getting screamed at and treated like shit. No thanks. When I saw the photo on the back page I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. Van Annen’s arms were so bulky he could barely cross them over his pumped up chest. He wore a camouflage t-shirt and matching cap and his head was square, mostly jaw. He didn’t smile and his eyes were small, flat and mean. ‘Scary son of a bitch,’ Sean said. ‘Tell me about it. That’s him. I recognise the eyes.’ Our drinks arrived and I sipped coffee in between reading out Jurgen’s bio. 212
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 213
rubdown
My name is Jurgen Van Annen and I was a soldier for two decades. During my service I did a Tour of Duty in the first Gulf war and spent time as a highly decorated commando in the Elite Special Forces Squad participating in many dangerous missions. I left the army in 2002 to start my personal training business. I have always been dedicated to fitness and have won many body building titles, most recently coming first place in the Victorian finals of the Pan Pacifics. I have been featured on such television shows as Good Morning Australia, Today-Tonight and Mornings with KerriAnne, and have successfully trained many celebrities including Veronica and Blaine Wade. I believe my military background separates my Bootcamp sessions from the rest of the pack, helps my clients reach peak fitness and provides them with Discipline, Drive, Determination. While I was reading Sean had done a Google search on Van Annen. He was drinking tea and scrolling down the eighty-four hits he’d got. Most of them were linked to magazine articles about his training business and television appearances. ‘Aha,’ he said, and turned the computer screen around so I could see. It was a newspaper article from 2002. PERSONAL TRAINER CLEARED ON STEROID CHARGES Personal trainer Jurgen Van Annen was yesterday aquitted of importing steroids and injectible testosterone. His barrister, Emery Wade, told the media Van Annen had always maintained his innocence and had been confident of beating the charges. 213
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 214
leighredhead
I leaned back in my chair and drank the last of my coffee. I was wide awake now.‘Special Forces. Are they the kind that get trained in covert operations, assassinations, can kill a man with their bare hands and not leave a mark?’ ‘The government denies it, but yeah, probably.’ ‘Great. I don’t just have a regular bad guy after me, I’ve got a steroid pumped, psychopathic killing machine.What the fuck are we going to do?’ ‘Go to the police.’ ‘But the police don’t believe me.’ ‘Not just any police.We go to Alex.’
214
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 215
chapterthirty-five
A
fter the internet café we checked out Geisha’s place, a single storey terrace in Collingwood. No one was home and in the hour we sat in the car nothing happened so we headed back to the hotel. Sean called Alex when we got there, took his mobile out to the car so I couldn’t listen in and talked for an hour. I peeked out the curtain and saw him sitting in the Saab, chain-smoking and drinking vodka out of the hip flask, deep in conversation. I ate a tuna salad, drank some wine and lay on the bed watching TV. ‘What did he say?’ I asked when he finally came back in. ‘He’s going to help. He’s coming over here tomorrow afternoon.’ ‘Good. There’s some tuna salad in the fridge.You could make a sandwich out of it.’ 215
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 216
leighredhead
‘I’m not very hungry.’ He sat at the round table, lit a cigarette and poured another vodka. ‘You want to come to bed?’ I patted the brown striped spread and gave him a lascivious smile. ‘Not just yet.’ He didn’t come to bed until after I was asleep. The next day it was still raining, coming down steady outside. Sean and I hung around the hotel, waiting for Alex to show up. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again, but hell, I didn’t have a choice. We were lying on the bed and some crap midday movie was on the TV. Sean was drinking tea and smoking Marlboro lights. I was next to him reading his Irvine Welsh book, and when I glanced up I saw he wasn’t watching the television. His eyes were focused somewhere in the middle distance. ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, fine.’ I put the book down and swung my leg over his. I could never resist him for long. I kissed his neck and trailed my hand down his t-shirt and underneath, to the red-gold hair that disappeared into his jeans. I unbuttoned the fly and slid my fingers under the elastic of his underpants, touching the silken skin of his cock. He just lay there, smoking and staring at the screen. The usual hard-on was absent, but I felt sure I could rectify the situation and began stroking, my fingers cramped by elastic and denim. ‘Simone, I’m not in the mood.’ He pushed my hand away and zipped up. ‘What?’ ‘I’m just not, okay?’ He dragged hard on the butt and crushed it in the ashtray. I propped myself up on one elbow. ‘What’s your problem?’ ‘I don’t have a problem.You’re the one with the problem. It’s not going to kill you to go without sex for five minutes.’ 216
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 217
rubdown
‘It might,’ I joked, but he didn’t crack a smile. Fine. If I couldn’t have sex I’d have cheese. I got off the bed and crossed to the bar fridge where I had stashed a pack of cheese singles. I pulled four individually wrapped slices from the packet and lay down staring at the TV. I loved cheese singles and had a particular way I liked to eat them. Unwrapping the plastic a little at a time and nibbling from the corner, like a rat. ‘Why do you eat those things? I bought Jarlsberg.’ ‘Don’t want Jarlsberg, want Kraft.’ ‘It’s disgusting, it’s not even real food.’ ‘I was never allowed plastic cheese when I was a kid. That’s why I eat it now.What do you care?’ He shook his head and walked off to the bathroom. I heard him piss, flush and flick the seat back down. He was good like that. He opened the door and stood there holding one of the white hotel towels. ‘And do you think for once you could hang your towel on the rail instead of chucking it on the floor?’ I glared at him. He grabbed his Marlboros off the bedside table, looked inside and crumpled the empty pack in his fist. ‘I’m going to get cigarettes.’ He picked up his keys and left. I lay back on the bed staring at the textured concrete ceiling and willed myself not to cry. A couple of tears welled up and spilled down my temples into my hair. He’d gone off me. Impossible. It took more than a week for infatuation to wear off. He was retreating emotionally before he went away to Vietnam because he’d just realised he was head over heels in love with me. Probably not. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what it was. He was beating himself up over Alex. 217
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 218
leighredhead
He took three quarters of an hour to buy cigarettes. By the time he got back Alex was due to show up. He took my bags off the single bed by the window, put them in the cupboard and messed up the blankets so it looked like it had been slept in. I stood watching with my arms crossed. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ ‘I don’t want to rub his face in it.’ ‘He’s a grown man. He’s thirty-five fucking years old.’ ‘We’ve been friends for ten years.’ ‘Good for you. Listen, I’m going to check out Geisha’s place again.’ I pulled on a jumper and my coat, stuck a baseball cap on against the rain. ‘You shouldn’t be out there by yourself. It’s not safe.’ ‘Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want to hang around and risk hurting Alex’s feelings.’ Meow. I grabbed a cheese single for the road and slammed the door on my way out.
Geisha’s place was off Smith Street, the end with all the factory outlets. Hers was a rundown brick house in a rare, unrenovated block. A triple killing had gone down in nearby Easey Street in the eighties and the Hoddle Street massacre had happened just up the road.Grey drizzle only served to make the location more depressing. I loitered outside the pub opposite for a second, drawn by the comforting smell of stale smoke and damp beer mats. A whisky was just the thing to give me courage to knock on the front door. No. Bad habit to get into. I had to learn to do my job sober. That was the good thing about stripping, you could go to work 218
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 219
rubdown
half tanked. In fact I’d usually done a better job with a couple under my belt. But this was the new improved straight Simone Kirsch. I compromised and decided I would have the whisky after, as a reward. I pulled my water bottle out of my bag, had a swig and crossed the road. The iron fence was rusted and a rectangular bin overflowing with Bacardi Breezer bottles had been wedged into the tiny porch. I knocked on the wooden door. No answer. If I was Lulu, hiding out from bad guys, would I answer the door? I doubted it. I stepped over the recyling to look through the front window. All I could see was encrusted grime and a tatty batik hanging. A cobbled laneway ran behind the houses, and I counted them off until I came to Geisha’s and peered through a gap in the sagging paling fence. A Hills hoist sprouted from the concrete and an old dunny had been converted into a makeshift shed. The back windows weren’t covered but I couldn’t see in from that distance. Time to jump over, Starsky and Hutch style. Suddenly I felt old and tired. Just do it, I told myself, and we’ll make the whisky a double. I walked back, then did a little run up and jump. Got my hands on the splintery top, strained my shoulders and scrabbled my feet trying to get over. Suddenly I felt pressure on my back. Someone had hold of my jacket and yanked me off the fence so hard I fell on my arse on the cobblestones. I looked up and saw a grizzled old guy standing over me. He was wearing a beanie and brandishing a length of two by four. ‘Don’t hit me,’ I squealed, and held my arm over my face. He raised the plank of wood. ‘Fuckin’ thieving junkies.’ ‘I’m not a junkie. I wasn’t trying to steal anything. See? Check my arms.’ I pushed up my sleeves. ‘No track marks.’ ‘Could shoot up between your toes.’ ‘I don’t shoot up at all. I’m a private investigator.’ ‘From the dole?’ He raised the wood higher. 219
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 220
leighredhead
‘No, no, no. Missing persons case.’ I fumbled in my bag and handed him my laminated ID card. He examined it, lowered the plank and helped me to my feet. The arse of my jeans was uncomfortably wet. Up close his ratty fisherman’s jumper smelled of tobacco and old tin cans and his wide spaced teeth were a murky yellow and brown. ‘Can’t be too careful,’ he said. ‘Been break-ins up and down this street the past two weeks. Cunts did me over twice. First the tele then all me records. Original fucking vinyl. Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis. Can’t replace ’em. Been camping out in me back yard, waiting for the scumbags to come back. I’m ready for ’em this time.’ He waved me over to the house next door and disappeared in the back gate. I looked in. He’d positioned a striped, foldout chair to spy through a hole in the back fence. Above the chair a blue tarpaulin was strung over the clothes line to keep out the rain. A tartan blanket hung over the back of the chair and a thermos and lunch box sat on a milk crate. He opened the door to a corrugated iron shed and when I saw what was inside I put all my weight on my back foot, ready to sprint down the alley. Brass rings had been drilled into the walls, and hanging from the rings were lengths of chain and bolts. A baseball bat and iron bar were propped up in the corner. On another milk crate sat a piece of machinery that looked suspiciously like a blowtorch. The old guy smiled and puffed up his chest. ‘Cops don’t give a shit so I’m taking the law into me own hands. Gonna capture them sons of bitches and beat the shit out of ’em. Torture ’em ’til they tell me where me fucking records are.Whaddaya reckon?’ ‘Nice set up,’ I said, adrenal glands pumping, preparing for fight or flight. ‘You haven’t seen an Islander girl next door while you’ve been keeping a lookout, have you? Well, she’s actually a guy but she dresses like a girl.’ 220
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 221
rubdown
‘You don’t mean the chink that don’t know whether it’s Arthur or Martha?’ ‘No, not Asian. She’s tall, six foot, long black hair, coffee coloured skin.’ He scratched the white bristles sprouting from his chin and shook his head. ‘Nuh. There’s the chink, a blonde nancy boy,’ he flopped his wrist to give me the idea, ‘and this mean looking motherfucker. Big bloke. Hairy. Looks like one of them eye-rakis. Thought I should call the terrorist hotline. Dodgy fucker.’ ‘You sure that’s all?’ ‘Been watching this block for a week now.’ The rain picked up and pattered on the tarp. ‘Thanks for your help.’ I backed away from the gate, ready for any sudden moves. ‘Good luck trapping the junkies.’ I hurried down the lane and into the comforting warmth of the pub. It was my kind of place, unrenovated, with orange carpet, exposed brick walls and a dartboard. A couple of old guys in flat caps watched the trots and a barmaid with pencilled-on brows leaned against the counter reading Take 5 magazine. She poured me a double, no ice, and I took it to the window seat and watched the house, listening to the race callers and the muted card machine jingle from another room. The whisky warmed me from the inside out and washed away my disappointment at not finding Lulu. I realised I’d been harbouring a vain hope that I would stumble across her, along with the evidence against Wade. I’d seen myself taking her to the police, solving everything, being the hero of the day and totally showing up Alex and Sean, all in time for afternoon tea. At least I’d got out of the hotel. I could just imagine it. Alex being a bitch. Sean ignoring me. The two of them doing a bit of male bonding and me sitting there made to feel like the wicked temptress I so obviously was. Christ. I threw back the last of the 221
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 222
leighredhead
whisky and decided another was in order. I was turning on my bar stool when I saw the old guy’s ‘eye-raki’ emerge from the gaming room and buy a packet of cigarettes over at the bar. He wore a bulky green army surplus jacket, had spiky black hair, stubble and a pair of aviator sunnies with dark, mirrored lenses. He looked like a Libyan hijacker from the seventies. As he walked back to the pokies unwrapping his smokes he glanced over and, to my horror, did a double take, like he recognised me. I grabbed my bag, slid off the chair and hurried to the exit. As I pushed open the door I saw his reflection in the glass. He was coming right at me.
222
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 223
chapterthirty-six
I
hit the pavement running and bolted left into Smith Street, hoping the people and traffic would force him to back off. No such luck. When I looked over my shoulder he was catching up. I dodged black umbrellas, pedestrians with shopping bags, and when I glanced in plate glass windows saw him getting closer, pushing people out of the way. Ahead a tram was taking passengers. At the last minute I veered right and dived in just as the doors were closing, tripped on the step and sprawled on the dirty wet floor. I lay there for a second, trying to catch my breath, wondering who he was and why he was after me. Old ladies tutted and gathered their purses to their chests. A big black rasta man let out a stoned chortle and held out his hand to help me off the floor. ‘You must have really needed this tram.’ ‘Mate, you have no idea,’ I said. 223
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 224
leighredhead
I let myself into the hotel room and my stomach sank when I saw that Alex was still there. ‘Jeez, Simone, you look a bit rough,’ he said by way of a greeting. I ignored him, got the vodka out of the freezer, poured a generous slug and leaned on the TV counter. ‘Some guy who looks like a terrorist just chased me through Fitzroy.’ I downed the drink, poured another. Alex and Sean looked at each other. ‘Who was it?’ Sean asked. ‘No idea. He lives with Geisha but I can’t understand how he knows who I am, let alone wants to attack me.’ Sean shook his head and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t you believe me?’ I asked. ‘Every time you step outside you say someone’s chased you,’ he said. ‘It beggars belief.’ ‘You think I’m lying?’ ‘Maybe you were mistaken.’ ‘I think I know when a big scary guy with mirrored sunnies is pursuing me down Smith Street.’ A wave of anger and frustration built up. I swallowed the vodka, refilled my glass, sat at the table and lit one of Sean’s cigarettes. Alex was pretending to play with his phone but he wore an air of smugness like a gangster wears an Armani jacket. ‘So what’s going on?’ I said. ‘Me and Alex are just about to head off to St Kilda Road and see the Homicide Squad. Tell them what we know about Wade.’ ‘Good. I’ll just get cleaned up.’ ‘You’re not coming,’ he said. ‘What?’ 224
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 225
rubdown
‘We’ve got to convince them there’s something in this. I don’t think you’re the best person to do that.’ ‘Why?’ I waved my cigarette around.‘Because I’m a stripper?’ ‘Ex,’ said Alex. ‘No,’ Sean said, ‘because you’re drunk.’ ‘I am not drunk,’ I said and promptly knocked my glass over. ‘Taxi,’ muttered Alex. Funny guy. I glared at him. ‘We’ll talk to them first,’ Sean said, ‘and then you’ll probably need to go in for an interview tomorrow, when you’ve sobered up.’ He stubbed out his cigarette and the two of them gathered up phones and keys and left. I smoked furiously.Who the hell did he think he was, telling me I was drunk? I didn’t drink half as much as he did, and I didn’t smoke pot either. Hypocrite. I mashed out the cigarette and looked around. The white walls were closing in. I couldn’t stay in this hotel. Of course I couldn’t go home either. I picked up the phone and rang Chloe to see what she was up to. Doing a show at the Clifton. Damn. A weird, angry energy buzzed through my veins. I needed to drink more. I needed to be out in the city night, bathed in cigarette smoke and neon lights and listening to music. Yeah, I needed some goddamn rock and roll. If I headed back to St Kilda I could get all that and search for Lulu while I was at it. Cruise down Carlisle Street where all the transsexual prostitutes turned tricks. It was a plan. I had a quick shower and put on makeup. I was in the mood for liquid eyeliner and red lipstick. I dressed in hipster jeans, the tight black Club X t-shirt I’d kept from when I used to work at the Crazyhorse, popped the fluffy white jacket on top and ran the straightener through my hair to get rid of rainy day frizz. I was looking hot. Sean didn’t know what he was missing. I had another vodka while I waited for a cab, and when it arrived I directed the driver to take me to the Greyhound. I could 225
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 226
leighredhead
have a drink, walk up Carlisle, then maybe head to the Espy. The driver took me down Royal Parade and onto Peel Street past the Queen Victoria Markets. I had taken little bottles of booze from the mini bar—scotch, bourbon, gin—and I drank them on the way. Further on, the rain turned Kingsway into a blurred mess of tail-lights, trams and late model cars. How anyone could afford a forty thousand dollar vehicle was beyond me. And a house? I couldn’t work out how straight people did it. And what was a straight life like anyway? I imagined it would entail barbecues in the back yard of a brick veneer, everyone standing around drinking Fosters and discussing real estate values. I flashed to a fat husband in a polo shirt and deck shoes, holding court around the Beefmaster. I saw two tow-headed kids screaming, their nostrils encrusted in snot, and me with a Doris Day haircut, wearing a frilly apron and pulling a White Wings cake out of a shiny new oven. I shuddered. The cabbie dropped me on the corner of Carlisle and Brighton Road. It was good to be back in the neighbourhood. I crossed at the lights, pushed into the public bar thick with smoke and noise, and was delighted to see my favourite band, Doug Mansfield and the Dust Devils on stage. They played songs about drinking and strippers and love gone wrong, and any pub I saw them in was instantly transformed into a beer-drenched honky-tonk. The band members did a nice line in Western shirts and hats, and wore their scuffed cowboy boots well, unlike a certain washed-up pop star I knew. I ordered a whisky with a champagne chaser and leaned back on the bar to watch them. They were playing a cover of ‘The Road Goes On Forever’ and I skolled the whisky and started on the champagne. Country honkytonk. This was more like it. Fuck jazz. Fuck Sean. Fuck Alex and, what the hell, fuck Miles Davis too. I looked up expecting lightning to strike me down. Amazingly, I was spared. 226
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 227
rubdown
I wriggled my hips to the music and could see the usual grungy dudes glance over, trying to figure out if I was there with anyone, wondering if they were drunk enough to approach. The bass player looked at me. His name was Jack and I’d flirted with him once. I winked and raised my champagne. The band played a couple of encores, finished up and Jack wandered over. He was all in black, tall, with thick dark hair and eyes somewhere between green and brown. ‘Simone, right?’ ‘Good memory.’ ‘Hey, I found out what you do.’ Last time I’d told him I couldn’t reveal my occupation, else I’d have to kill him. A tired old line that had seemed pretty witty after five mini bottles of champagne. ‘Oh yeah?’ ‘You’re a PI.’ I shaped my hand into a gun, held it to his head. ‘Want a drink?’ he asked. I did but the secret of successful flirting is always leave ’em wanting more. I drained my glass and slammed it down on the counter. ‘Sorry, sport. Gotta go bag me a trannie.’
The rain had stopped but a cold wind whipped down Carlisle. Didn’t matter, the fire water was warming me from the inside out. It had also stripped me of every last shred of shyness and I approached every working girl I saw,described Lulu and asked whether they’d seen her around. No go. I was almost at Acland Street when a plump redhead with a prominent Adam’s apple told me she might know something. ‘What’s it worth to you?’ Her voice was gruff. 227
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 228
leighredhead
I handed over a fifty and she stuffed it into her bra. ‘I haven’t seen her.’ ‘Fuck’s sake.’ ‘But someone else was asking after her last night. Big guy. Body builder. Fucking prick tried to cop a feel.’ So Jurgen hadn’t found Lulu. She wasn’t dead. Thank Christ. Maybe she’d pissed off interstate. I would have. The McDonald’s across the road beckoned and I went inside, hung a leak and bought a large fries, squinting in the fluorescent brightness. I took the contraband out to the tram stop and sat there, shovelling greasy chips into my mouth and licking salt off my fingers. To my left was a Club X adult store, across the road Luna Park glowed under coloured lights and the roller-coaster ricketed up wooden tracks. Attractive couples walked past arm in arm, throwing their heads back and laughing like they were in an ad for expensive booze. I felt a pang, wiped my fingers on my jeans, took my mobile from my bag and called Sean. ‘How’d it go?’ I heard noise in the background, like he was at a pub. ‘Great. We’ll have something ready to go by tomorrow afternoon.’ ‘Where are you?’ ‘Belgian Beer Café. Having a drink with Alex.’ ‘So I’ll see you back at the hotel soon?’ ‘No. Look, we might be here for a while, so don’t wait up.’ Don’t wait up. I pressed end, hard, but it was nowhere near as satisfying as slamming down a receiver. I balled up the Macca’s bag, lobbed it into a bin and made my way up the hill to the Esplanade Hotel. The bay was on my left, dark and choppy. Skinny palm trees bent in the wind. To my right the Novotel, then a mixture of thirties flats and seventies high rises. 228
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 229
rubdown
I reached the big white pub and climbed the staircase to the front bar, smiled at the Maori bouncer and he smiled back. Whaddaya know? Maybe my run of bad luck with the big guys was over. There were instruments on stage but no sign of the band. I sat at the bar close to the small dance floor, ordered another whisky/ champagne combo and lit a cigarette. Staring at the stage I remembered the night I’d first seen Mick Halliday up there with his Elvis sideburns, tattoos and guitar. Our two week affair had ended badly four months earlier, but I still juiced up every time I thought about the sex. So passionate and intense you thought it might kill you, but you didn’t even care. Why was it the arseholes were always so damn good in the sack? The band came on stage and the punters surged forward. The singer was tall and thin with shaggy hair and flared jeans. He introduced the band as the Re-Mains, direct from Nimbin. Not far from my old stomping ground. I hoped I wouldn’t be subjected to interminable hippy dross, but was treated to a loud dose of country rock and roll, complete with banjo and pedal steel. All right. I laid my fake fur jacket on the stool and was first on the dance floor, doing some stripping-inspired moves, all hips and hair. I thought about Alex and Sean while I danced. Damn Alex for making Sean feel guilty. Damn Sean for being so easily manipulated. I caught the eye of a guy leaning against a pillar. Tall, checked shirt, dirty jeans. Nowhere near as good looking as Mick, but if you had your beer goggles on, which I did… I smiled and he sauntered over and began dancing with me, not very well, but what the hell. I moved in close and rubbed my boobs on his chest, turned around, lifted my arms up and leaned back into him, pushing my arse into his crotch. He grabbed my hips and did a series of pelvic thrusts, and when I looked back I saw he was making faces at his mates in the corner. They raised their beer jugs, egging him on. 229
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 230
leighredhead
When the band played a slow song I wiped the sweat off my face and took him by the hand. ‘Let’s have a drink.’ I bought us both a can of VB and a double Jameson’s and wondered exactly how much of Vincent’s money I had left.When I slammed down the whisky in one go he looked impressed. We sat close on bar stools, smoking. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked. ‘Vivien.’ My old stripping name. Tonight I felt more Vivien than Simone. ‘Steve.Watcha doing here on your own?’ ‘My boyfriend would rather be out with his boyfriend.’ I tipped my head back and rolled the icy can around my neck. ‘He a fag?’ ‘He’s a cop.’ ‘Fucken pigs.’ ‘You said it.’ I clinked my can on his. ‘Guess what? I used to be a stripper.’ ‘What a coincidence—I love strippers.’ The band started a fast song. The lead guy sang: ‘Sick sister wanna come with you, you make my rocking dreams come true…’ I tried to pull Steve back onto the dance floor, but he resisted. ‘Hang on, let me finish my smoke.’ I couldn’t hang on, so started moving where I was, sexy lapdance style. I bent over in front of him, turned around and fondled my tits, put my hands on his knees, tipped forward and dangled my hair into his groin. The whole pub was watching and he looked kind of embarrassed, but I was beyond caring. I was getting that old performance high and it felt great. I slipped my t-shirt off and spun it round my head, dancing in my black lace bra. Sliding my arms around his neck, I jumped onto his lap and started grinding my hips. 230
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 231
rubdown
A tap on my shoulder. I ignored it. A big hand pulling me off him. I turned around and the bouncer shoved my t-shirt at me. He wasn’t smiling. ‘Okay, let’s go.’ I dug my heels into the floor, but he dragged me out by my elbow. People were laughing. One girl said, ‘Slut.’ At the bottom of the stairs I struggled into my t-shirt and eyed off the hotdogs on a roadside stand. ‘Vivien!’ Steve was jogging down the stairs with my jacket and handbag. After a couple of attempts I got my arms into the sleeves and slung the bag over my shoulder. ‘You’re fucking crazy,’ he said. ‘Let’s go back to my place.’ Out of the dark pub and under the streetlights I could see he looked nothing like Mick. His nose was too big and his eyes were too small and his lips were dry and thin. He bent down and sucked on my neck, then kissed me, his raspy tongue flitting spastically around my mouth as though it were searching for a bit of food stuck between my teeth. I jerked back and hailed a taxi over his shoulder. When it pulled up I ran and dived in, locking the door behind me. He followed, knocked on the window, flicked the door handle and said, ‘Hey!’ I lolled on the seat, fumbling with the belt. ‘Drive,’ I said.
231
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 232
chapterthirty-seven
I
was dying. No. I was already dead and this was what it felt like to slowly decay. My eyeballs shrivelled painfully in their sockets. Blind worms burrowed through desiccated brain tissue and a decomposing tongue leaked rank fluids into my blackened mouth. It was the worst hangover I’d ever had. And that was saying something. I opened one eye and tried to ascertain exactly where I was without moving my head. Shit, I was in my own bedroom, lying on the bed fully clothed. I even had my boots on. The night before came back in fragments, images pulsing in time to the sickening throb in my temples. The Greyhound. The hookers. Dancing at the Espy. I hadn’t, had I? I moved my eyeballs to check out my t-shirt. It was inside out. What kind of madwoman got half cut on vodka, spent the 232
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 233
rubdown
evening following whisky with champagne chasers and topped it all off with beer? My guts lurched just thinking about it and I raced to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit into the toilet bowl, throat stinging, tears running down my face. I flushed the loo and rinsed my mouth out in the sink, trying to avoid looking at the red-eyed zombie in the mirror. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t spewed since I was thirteen years old, underneath the community hall with a bottle of Bundy rum and a townie guy called Scrounger, who’d been intent on relieving me of my virginity—until I’d chucked up all over him. My shaking hands fumbled with the blister pack of pain tablets. Generic brand. Maximum codeine, minimum price. I swallowed four, stripped off, and washed myself sitting down in the bath, under the shower. I brushed my teeth, brushed my tongue and almost vomited again.When the hot water ran out I dried off, dressed in an ugly old tracksuit and wandered into the kitchen where I drank a glass of water and a cup of coffee and ate a couple of cheese singles from the pack in the fridge. A wave of dizziness overtook me and I leaned my head on the kitchen counter until the brown spots in front of my eyes went away. This was not good. I had to call Sean, I had to get out of here and I had a terrible feeling I had to do something very important involving the police. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but there was only one way I’d be able to get through the day. I opened the cupboard above the fridge and there, next to Chloe’s emergency bong, was a Jameson’s bottle, half full. I poured a tumbler and forced myself to sip it, hand shaking like a derro, fighting back the gag reflex with the power of my mind. Half a glass later it was starting to work. I had some water. More whisky. I found my bag next to the bed and turned on my phone. The message symbol was blinking. I called Sean. ‘Where the fuck have you been? I thought Van Annen had you.’ 233
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 234
leighredhead
‘Got drunk. Stayed at my place.’ ‘You know that’s not safe.’ ‘After yesterday I didn’t think you gave a shit one way or another.’ ‘I’m coming to get you. Guys from the Tactical Response Squad and Homicide are going to be here in an hour. We’re sending you in to talk to Wade this afternoon.’
I stayed on the couch, alternating water with whisky until I heard the buzzer go. I popped five Tic-Tacs in my mouth, went downstairs and collapsed into the passenger seat of his Saab. The day was overcast, cold. Just as well, I couldn’t have dealt with sunshine and heat. Sean didn’t talk until we were stopped at the intersection where Barkly Street turned into Queen’s Parade. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ he said. ‘I just felt like such an arsehole after I spoke to Alex.’ ‘Well you didn’t have to take it out on me. It was awful, you made me feel like a piece of shit.’ ‘Jesus, Simone, it wasn’t that bad. So you weren’t the centre of attention for five minutes. Are you that insecure?’ ‘I’m not insecure. That market’s been cornered by you Virgos.’ ‘Enough with the starsign bullshit.’ A van in front stopped and he hit the brakes hard. I jolted forward and almost threw up. ‘Will you just listen to me?’ he said.‘Alex and I had a long talk last night. About you. He’s not pissed off anymore. He came to the realisation that, although he’s attracted to you, the two of you aren’t suited at all. He reckons you’re slightly crazy and he’s always thought that about me, so he actually said we’d be good together. He finished the night wishing us well.’ 234
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 235
rubdown
I bet he was quite pissed by then. ‘What, for the next three days?’ ‘I’ll be coming back.’ ‘Six months is a long time.’ We were driving along Kingsway when he turned the wheel hard to the left and pulled into a loading zone. ‘I am trying so hard not to fall in love with you.’ He grabbed me and kissed me, soft, wet, sweet, slowly getting hotter. I melted inside all over again and felt my hangover lift. A truck beeped at us and we drew apart and Sean nosed the car back into the traffic. He smiled at me at the next red light. ‘I’ve got to tell you, twenty-four hours of abstinence and I’m toey as a Roman sandal.’ He reached over and brushed a lock of hair off my face. His fingers on my cheek set off sparks. Then his smile dissolved into a frown. ‘What’s that?’ ‘What?’ ‘On your neck.’ I angled the rear-vision mirror to check. An angry purple hickey stood out on the flesh below my ear. ‘Who the fuck did you spend the night with?’ ‘No one, I was at the Espy,’ I blurted.‘This dickhead tried to kiss me. I ran away. I didn’t want him. I wanted you.’ Truth be known, I had actually wanted Mick. Sean didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. I reached for the hip flask in the glove box.
Back at the hotel I had another shower and changed into my Portmans pants-suit, and low heels. I twisted my hair up in a clip, covered the love-bite with concealer and trowelled on makeup, all 235
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 236
leighredhead
the while sipping from the pewter flask. I found if I kept topping up a little bit at a time it took me to a place where I was neither too pissed nor too hungover. Makeup truly is a wonderful thing because by the time I was finished I looked gorgeous and dewy, rather than the dried up old booze-hag I knew I was. I stuffed the flask in my handbag, strode out of the bathroom and grabbed a RedBull from the fridge. There was a knock on the door and Sean let in four burly detectives. They wore jeans, loose jackets and baseball caps. Could have passed for off-duty rugby league players, except that when they moved I glimpsed guns in shoulder holsters under their arms. Sean introduced me and I immediately forgot their names. The RedBull and the thought of being involved in a police sting made my mouth dry and my heart thud under my crisp white shirt. Sean was making an effort not to look at me, smoking and scratching a pattern on the table with his fingernail. ‘So, how are we going to play this thing?’ I asked. A guy with sandy hair and a bull neck, who seemed to be the leader, said, ‘You call Wade and insist on meeting him in an hour. Tell him you have photographs. Then we drop you at your car, you drive to the city and park in the Downtown car park opposite his office.We’ll have two cars. One on yours in the parking station and the other on the street. Arrange to meet him tomorrow night, doesn’t matter where ’cause it’s not going to happen. Then drive back to your place, taking St Kilda Road and Barkly Street. If nothing’s happened by then, go for a walk. That’ll flush Van Annen out. We arrest him, lean on him, offer him a deal to give evidence against Wade.’ ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘How am I going to convince him I have photos? What do I say is in them?’ Sean lifted his head.‘You’ll think of something.You’ve already indicated you’re a fairly accomplished liar.’ 236
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 237
rubdown
I glared at him. The coppers exchanged glances. ‘So who’s going to wire me up?’ I looked around ‘No wires,’ said the sandy haired guy.‘Wade’s a criminal lawyer. He’s going to check.You should use your phone to call him now.’ He handed me Wade’s office number, scribbled on a piece of paper. I finished the RedBull, took my phone out of my bag and dialled. ‘Can I speak with Emery Wade please?’ ‘He’s busy with a client,’ the receptionist said.‘Can I help you?’ ‘Yeah, tell him Simone Kirsch is on the line and I’ve got what he needs.’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘He’ll know what I’m talking about.’ After a minute of ‘Greensleeves’ Wade’s super-smooth voice flowed through the receiver. ‘Ms Kirsch, how may I help you?’ ‘I have what you’re looking for and I want to make a deal. I’d rather not talk about it over the phone. How about your office in an hour?’ ‘I’m booked up all day.’ ‘An hour, or I take this stuff somewhere else.’ The lead copper grinned and gave me the thumbs-up. Wade’s velvety tones turned gruff. ‘Alright. One hour.’
237
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 238
chapterthirty-eight
A
n hour later I was in Wade’s chambers on the fifteenth floor, and the grey haired receptionist with a mouth like a cat’s bum was directing me to a burgundy chesterfield lounge. The waiting area reeked of money and respectability, of generations of rich bastards getting away with things. A framed painting of a stallion with gleaming flanks and flared nostrils hung on the wall opposite. Even the horse looked up itself. I was bowel-clenchingly nervous about seeing Emery again, so whenever the receptionist looked away I took out the hip flask and had a swig. I was tipping the balance into slightly pissed, but I didn’t really care. After ten minutes she said,‘Mr Wade will see you now.’ I dragged my feet up the carpeted corridor, then chastised myself. I had to stop being intimidated by men in positions of power. Had to remember that behind the pinstriped suit Emery 238
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 239
rubdown
was a misogynist, a murderer and god knew what else. I took a deep breath, knocked on the door and held my head up high. Wade opened it and looked down his nose at me. Grey eyes shimmering with barely suppressed hostility.‘Come in.’ There was a hard edge to his smooth voice, like a razorblade inside a soft centred chocolate. I walked past him and went to sit in one of the armchairs. ‘Stop,’ he ordered. ‘Stand there. Put down your bag.’ I placed it on his desk. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a metal wand like they used at airports. I held out my arms and he swept the device from my hairclip to my Mary Jane shoes. Nothing beeped, he grunted and upended my handbag on the desk. A whole bunch of crap fell out. Tic-Tacs, lip gloss, pens, notebook, hip flask, Butter Menthols covered in fluff. A stray tampon rolled off the desk and under a bookcase. He took apart my mobile phone, checked the hip flask to make sure it wasn’t a cunningly disguised listening device and loomed over me. I smelled Listerine mouthwash and a spicy aftershave reminiscent of cognac and cigars. From this angle I could see he really ought to have invested in one of those nose hair clippers. ‘What have you got?’ he asked. ‘Photographs.’ A pulse fluttered at the base of my throat like a dying butterfly. ‘Of what?’ ‘You can probably guess. They’re not very pretty.’ ‘Where did you get them?’ I was so relieved he didn’t question their existence that my confidence rose a notch. ‘As if I’d tell you.’ He got this look in his eye like he wanted to hit me but smoothed the grey at his temples instead. ‘What do you want?’ ‘For you to stop the licence hearing, call off Jurgen Van Annen, and give me fifty grand.’ 239
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 240
leighredhead
Superiority glazed his features.‘Fucking tarts. Do anything for a buck.’ ‘Meet me at Goldfingers tomorrow at six pm.’ ‘Alright,’ he said, and I knew then he had no intention of giving me the money. In the hour since I’d called he’d set something up.
I stood waiting for the lift, swigging vodka and shaking. So much for not being afraid. I couldn’t wait to get out of the building and chug a cigarette. I hoped this would all be over with relatively soon so I could just lie down somewhere and go to sleep. The elevator doors slid open and I lifted my head. The bearded guy who’d chased me down Smith Street was standing right there. I was so shocked I froze for a second, and in that time he grabbed my arm, pulled me inside and pressed the Door Close button. I struggled with him and he thrust me against the mirrored wall. ‘Simone!’ He pushed the sunnies on top of his head. ‘Calm down, it’s me.’ The camp voice was incongruous coming out of the butch face. ‘It’s Lulu. Look past the frigging beard and the hideous duds.’ I stopped fighting and examined the chocolate eyes, full lips and stubbly eyebrows growing back in. ‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ ‘It’s the best disguise I could think of. I couldn’t believe it when I lost you on Smith Street. I’d been staking out your flat from time to time, but it was dangerous because every now and then Jurgen would turn up looking for you. I was there this morning when you got into that Saab. I’ve been following you in Geisha’s car.Who are all the big dudes?’ 240
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 241
rubdown
The lift, which had been static, started going down. ‘Cops.’ My mind was reeling. Now I’d found her, what was I going to do with her? ‘We’re in the middle of a sting on Wade.’ ‘I have photographs,’ she said. ‘They’re the reason Wade killed Tammy.’ Jesus. They really existed. No wonder Wade didn’t question me. She pulled a manila envelope from inside her bulky army jacket as the lift hit ground and the doors began to open. I started to walk out and ran straight into Jurgen’s enormous chest. Before I could scream he slapped one hand over my mouth and hustled me back into the elevator. Billy Chevelle was behind him, with a big black gun. He held it under Lulu’s chin and his hand trembled. Jurgen pressed the button for the basement. ‘What do you know. Two for the price of one.’ I dived for the red alarm button, but Jurgen’s fist shot out and slammed me in the side of the head. I was briefly aware of the mirror cracking as my skull bounced off it. Then nothing.
241
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 242
chapterthirty-nine
M
y eyes were closed and I was cold. The ache in my head was sharp, like someone had shot an arrow through my temple. Why did I always have to drink so much? I tried to roll over in bed, reach for the doona and get warm, but I couldn’t move. Something was restraining my wrists and ankles. This was no hangover. I forced my heavy lids open and saw a corrugated iron roof. Looked down the length of my body and saw I was only wearing black knickers and a bra. I was spreadeagled on a patchwork quilt, tied with gaffer tape to a brass bed. Painfully lifting my head I saw a one room cottage decorated with frilly curtains and dried flowers in milk pails. The place was lit by kerosene lamps. Lulu was on the other side of the room next to a sink and wood burning stove, unconscious, tied to a chair with her head flopped to 242
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 243
rubdown
one side. Billy and Jurgen stood with their backs to me, by a fireplace to my left. The crackle of kindling and smell of Jiffy Firelighters took me back twenty years to my mum’s cabin in the bush. ‘That’s better.’ Billy rubbed his hands together. ‘Was frigging cold in here.’ Jurgen, in full camouflage gear, squatted and balanced a split log on the pyramid of twigs, got up and looked in my direction. ‘Hey, drug’s finally worn off.’ ‘’bout time.Wake up the freak.’ Billy jerked his head in Lulu’s direction. ‘I haven’t got all night.’ Jurgen walked past an overstuffed floral couch, filled an enamel mug at the sink and splashed it in Lulu’s face. She stirred, lifted her chin, then her head flopped onto her chest. Jurgen slapped her, hard. ‘Wake up!’ She groaned and opened her eyes. ‘Where am I?’ Billy marched over to her, pulling the folded manila envelope from the pocket of his puffer jacket.‘Don’t you worry about that. Where’s the negatives and the video?’ ‘There aren’t any.’ Jurgen backhanded her and blood trickled from the side of her mouth. ‘Don’t fucking bullshit us.’ Billy turned to me. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were flat and dead. ‘What about you? Tell us where they’re stashed and I promise we’ll let you go.’ I shook my head. Jurgen ripped open Lulu’s jacket and the grey flannel shirt underneath. Her silicon breasts sat on her chest like a couple of oranges. He unsheathed a gleaming hunting knife from a thigh holster and pressed the tip into the underside of her boob. ‘Fucking tell me or I’ll cut off your precious tits, you grotesque freak.’ ‘Leave her alone!’ The words ripped out of my dry, raw throat. 243
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 244
leighredhead
He twisted the blade. Lulu’s shriek brought goosebumps to my skin and I saw a thick stream of blood run down her belly. ‘Stop it!’ I yelled. ‘They’re in Geisha’s parents’ garage,’ Lulu screamed. ‘Paint tin under the workbench. Sixty six Redmon Drive, Oakleigh. Please. Just don’t hurt me.’ Jurgen and Billy looked at each other and nodded. They believed her. So did I. ‘Now let us go,’ she sobbed. Jurgen shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’ I wanted to scream hysterically and beg for my life, but I cleared my throat and tried to sound calm and rational.‘You can’t kill us. Right now the Homicide Squad has copies of the photos and video along with a detailed statement about how you killed Tammy. I had a team of cops follow me to Wade’s office and they’ve probably got the place surrounded. If you stop now we can work out a deal.’ ‘Oh yeah?’ said Billy. ‘If you gave the photos to Homicide, what’s in them?’ Lulu went to say something but Jurgen clamped his hand over her mouth. Billy and Jurgen looked at me. ‘Emery molesting Tamara,’ I ventured. Billy smirked. Jurgen tipped back his head and let out a hacking bark. Lulu glanced at me with liquid eyes then hung her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. Billy’s cowboy boots clomped on the wooden floor.When he sat next to me the mattress dipped and the bedsprings screeched. He slid the eight by ten prints out of the envelope, straightened them and held them in front of my eyes, one by one. The photos looked like video stills, slightly blurry, but there was no mistaking what was going on. Blaine Wade having oral and anal sex with Lulu who, despite the implants, was definitely pre-op. 244
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 245
rubdown
Billy said, ‘Do you have any idea how much money was at stake? Millions.’ He pinched his thumb and index finger close together.‘I am this close to sealing a deal that’ll break Veronica in America.We were all going to be set for life until that little whore and her freak friend decided they wanted a piece of the action.’ He slipped the photos back into the envelope and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. While I kept Billy talking, no one was dying.‘Why didn’t you just give her the money if there was plenty to go around?’ I said. ‘Hey, I would have, but you don’t know Emery. He wasn’t going to give her a cent. He’d taken in another man’s child, fed her, clothed her, sent her to the best schools and she’d been nothing but trouble from day one.When she tried to blackmail him and threatened to ruin Blaine’s reputation, Jesus. Angry isn’t the word for it!’ Jurgen wiped the blood from the blade, sheathed the knife back against his thigh, strode over to the end of the bed and looked down at me. His angular jaw was set in a rictus grin.‘Want to know how I did her? Little manoeuvre I picked up in covert ops when you need to get rid of someone, no questions asked. Came in through the roof, spiked that Coca-Cola she was always drinking and hid in the walk-in wardrobe.Waited till she’d passed out, took her to the bath and bled her out like a pig. Too easy. Cleaned myself up, back out, no one saw a thing. Had a horn like you wouldn’t believe and went up to Grey Street, got myself a girl. Gave it to her real good.’ I stared at him, even more terrified than I’d been before. Jurgen was not right in the head. My only chance was appealing to Billy, the less crazy of the two. ‘Please.’ My mouth was so dry my tongue stuck to the roof. ‘You’re a nice guy, a brilliant musician.You have a family. Don’t throw it all away. Think of the guilt when you have our murders on your conscience, think of your kids.’ 245
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 246
leighredhead
‘Shut up!’ Billy’s round face went red. ‘Just shut up! Leave my kids out of it.You brought this on yourselves.We gave you fair warning and you chose to ignore it.You’ve only got yourself to blame. This is not my fucking fault.’ He ran his hand through his curly mullet and got off the bed and addressed Jurgen. ‘I’ll be in the van listening to the dance remix of Tamara’s song.You need the gun?’ Jurgen shook his head. ‘Where’s the fun in that? Why don’t you stay? Plenty to go around.’ ‘One of them’s a man.’ ‘Only half, and a hole’s a hole.’ ‘You’re a sick fuck.’ Billy crossed to the front door and opened it onto a small verandah. ‘What the hell they do to you in that army?’ Jurgen just smirked and said,‘Light the incinerator while you’re out there and get it nice and hot. Bodies are a bitch to burn.’ Billy shuddered, then slammed the door behind him. Jurgen stood in the middle of the room, arms hanging out over his freakishly big lats, looking from me to Lulu, trying to make up his mind.‘Didn’t get to have any fun with the other slut, they were so worried about evidence. By the time I’ve finished with you two there’ll be no bodies for the cops to find.’ I would have pissed myself if I hadn’t been so dehydrated. My chest shook as my heart thundered against my ribs and my eyes darted frantically around the room, looking for something, anything, that would save us. A friend of mine named Reg who had served in Korea once told me that in a combat situation you had to seize any advantage you could. What advantage? Jurgen had the knife, Billy had the gun and I couldn’t move to reach a metal flower pail or a burning log from the fire. Fire. It was roaring now, flames reflected off Jurgen’s glittering eyes. He moved towards Lulu. 246
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 247
rubdown
‘Hey,’ I called,‘you’re not seriously going to do him first when you’ve got me right here?’ ‘Want a bit, do you?’ He ambled over and looked me up and down. I struggled against the ropes and he rubbed his crotch. ‘Why don’t you untie my hands so I can feel your cock?’ ‘Think I’m fucking stupid?’ The bed sagged as he straddled my legs and ran the knife lightly around my throat, just scratching the skin. He feathered it between my breasts, cut my bra open and dragged the blade down my belly, slitting the sides of my bikini pants. The knife hovered over my pussy like he was about to do something you only read about in serial killer books. I held my breath, almost fainting with fear, and he grinned and put the knife back in the holster. I blew out air, sucked it in. Jurgen leaned down and licked my boobs with his raspy tongue. The saliva trail was white and bubbly and smelled like bad breath. His tongue wriggled around my nipples like a giant pink maggot and my skin contracted with revulsion. I looked over his shoulder at Lulu, staring at us, tears still running down her face. I flicked my eyes toward the fire, then back to her. She looked blank. I did it again, and again. Eyes to fire, then her. I wriggled my left hand, grabbed at the tape. She suddenly got it but shook her head, no. I nodded, yes you can.Yes you fucking well can. Inside my head I was screaming at her. It worked. She inched the chair back, towards the fireplace. I yelled to cover the scraping noise. ‘No, stop! Somebody help!’ The screams made Jurgen smile wider. He moved up, sat on my chest and I could hardly breathe.When he unzipped his fly I saw a hard, shrunken penis atop withered pink balls. His tight foreskin smelled like rotting cheese. ‘Wrap your laughing gear round this,’ he said. 247
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 248
leighredhead
I clamped my mouth shut and flung my head to the side. Lulu had reached the fire and stuck her tape-bound hands into the flames. She was trying not to scream, screwing up her face, biting her bottom lip, shaking. I was sure I could smell burning hair and skin, but Jurgen didn’t seem to notice. He was forcing my head back around and prising my jaw apart with his fingers. I stopped struggling and opened my mouth. Then I chomped down hard on his hand. He laughed and punched me in the face and pain broke over my cheek and jaw, sharp, crystalline, and I tasted blood on my tongue. He reached around for the knife in the holster and frowned. He slapped his hand around his thigh. Just as he was turning to see where it had gone, Lulu reared up behind him and plunged it between his shoulderblades.
248
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 249
chapterforty
J
urgen said, ‘Ungh,’ keeled sideways off the bed and slapped the floor. Lulu stood shaking, the knife covered in blood. ‘Quick, cut the tape,’ I said. She sliced through the wrist restraints and was working on the second ankle when Jurgen rose from beside the bed, roaring, and crash-tackled her. They flew across the room. Lulu’s head smacked into the wood wall and she slumped to the floor, unconscious. I struggled to rip the tape from my ankle. Jurgen picked up the knife and staggered towards me. It was stuck tight, I couldn’t unpick it. He shoved me back down, fell on top and rested the blade against my throat. His breathing was laboured and his eyes were glazed. ‘I was going to fuck you, then kill you, but I’ve run out of time. How ’bout I do both at once?’ 249
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 250
leighredhead
He pushed the knife against my neck and I slapped my palms on his ropy wrist and strained to no effect. The knife kept coming forward. I was so panicked I couldn’t tell if the cold steel was actually slicing me or whether the moisture was sweat or blood. He stuffed one hand between his legs and jerked it around. Jesus. He was pulling himself, trying to get hard. Must have worked, because he stopped and put the hand on my thigh, wrenching my legs apart. At the same time he pushed the knife and hot pain seared my throat. In that split second I knew without a doubt that I was going to be raped and murdered. I knew I was dead. And then I thought, fuck it, I’m not going down without a fight. I stretched my arm back towards the bedside table and closed my fingers around the glass neck of the kerosene lamp. The knife cut deeper. Jurgen’s dick inched up my thigh. I swung my arm in an arc and smashed the lamp into the side of his head. Fire and glass exploded in my face. The knife slipped from my throat and the blade scraped my collarbone. He shrieked and scrambled back, his head and torso ablaze. Flames danced across my bare skin and my hair was on fire. I rolled myself tight in the patchwork quilt and forced myself to stay inside until I couldn’t breathe. I came out gasping but no longer burning, and saw him consumed by flames, wheeling around the cottage, howling. His hair was gone. Clothes melted. Skin peeling off. As he tried desperately to reach the sink he set fire to the couch, the curtains. The whole cottage was going up. I snatched the knife off the quilt and sawed through my leg tape, leapt naked off the bed and shook Lulu. Out cold. Holding her under the arms I dragged her out the back door, down three concrete steps into a flower garden. I laid her as far away from the building as I could get, by a white picket fence. Outside was dark and cold, gum trees hulking against the night sky. I ran back inside 250
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 251
rubdown
to get my clothes and the knife, but the whole cottage was on fire and the heat stopped me entering. Through the flames and smoke I saw Jurgen on his knees in the middle of a burning rug, arms outstretched, screaming silently through melted lips. The thick stench of charred flesh made me gag. I closed the door. I had to find Billy. I crept around the side of the cottage, hardly feeling the freezing air hit my bare skin. The blood streaming from my neck wound was a different story, hot and sticky, running down my torso and legs. When I got to the front verandah I crouched behind a wood pile. Billy was in the passenger seat of a late model white Tarago van, next to a brick incinerator filled with flaming logs. The van was facing away from the house, and I could hear Veronica hit the high notes through the rolled-up windows. It was only going to be a matter of time before Billy realised the orange glow reflected in his windscreen wasn’t coming from the incinerator. A window in the cottage burst from the heat and I grabbed a chunk of wood from the pile, scurried to the front gate and crawled to the van. Small rocks pierced my palms, and dirt and gravel stuck to my blood streaked skin. I lay on my belly behind the front tyre on the passenger side. After a minute I heard a muffled ‘Fuck,’ the music shut off and the door opened. Soon as Billy’s boots hit the ground I grabbed his ankles and yanked hard. He toppled forward and I slithered under the van door and leapt on his back like some deranged jungle beast, lifted the log and smashed it into his skull. Then again for good measure. I found the gun in his jacket and knelt over him, holding it to my chest with two hands. I’d started to shiver and go dizzy. Big brown dots floated in front of my eyes. I shook my head, leaned it against the side of the van. I had to keep it together. So much to do. Take off Billy’s clothes so I could wear them. Tie him up in case he came to. Drag Lulu away from the fire. Find a phone and call triple 0. 251
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 252
leighredhead
I felt in Billy’s pockets, couldn’t find a mobile. Maybe in the van. I dragged myself up, clutching the passenger door, but as soon as I stood the world started swirling around and I fell, smashing my head against the door handle on the way down. I lay on my back in the gravel, still holding the gun and feeling very sleepy. Above me the night sky was full of stars, icy white, painfully bright, and the smudged path of the Milky Way. I hadn’t seen so many stars for years. Not since I was a teenager and all us hippy kids used to lie on one of the smooth broad rocks by the river, still warm from the sun, smoke a joint and look up at the heavens, feeling small and weird. I heard a car coming up the gravel drive. Shit. A neighbour? Emery Wade? The car stopped and footsteps crunched, got closer. I couldn’t give up now, I was so close. I held the gun out in front of me, pointing straight up, finger on the trigger. As the footsteps rounded the van I squeezed. ‘Motherfuckingjesusgod!’ The coarse accent. A flash of platinum hair in the dark. Chloe. I dropped the gun. More footsteps, running, and Curtis came into view. I remember hoping he wouldn’t take this opportunity to finally get the nude shot I owed him—and then nothing.
252
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 253
chapterforty-one
W
hen I opened my eyes the next afternoon I found myself in a private room at St Vincent’s, Sean asleep in a grey vinyl armchair next to my bed.His elbow rested on the arm of the chair and his palm supported his face, pushing out his cheeks and lips like a cherub. My whole body ached, something I was getting used to and I couldn’t get rid of the image of Jurgen, sheets of skin crisping and curling off his body, or the smell of seared flesh. I reached for the water jug next to the bed. The movement made my bandaged collarbone burn and I let out an involuntary mewling sound. Sean blinked and rubbed his eyes. ‘Simone.’ He grabbed the jug off me, filled a frosted tumbler and held it to my lips. I gulped the whole thing in seconds and flopped my head back on the starched pillow. An IV line was taped to the back of one hand. He 253
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 254
leighredhead
held the other and gazed at my face with the same expression you might give a mortally injured kitten. ‘I look that bad?’ I croaked. The inside of my cheek stung and my lips felt puffed and rubbery. ‘You look beautiful.’ ‘And you lie like a pig in mud.What’s the damage?’ ‘Twelve stitches, cuts and bruises, dehydration and shock.’ ‘You should have seen the other guy.’ ‘I did.’ He grimaced. ‘What was left of him.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘I’m so fucking sorry about what happened. I never should have—’ ‘It wasn’t your fault. How’s Lulu?’ ‘Second degree burns, possible concussion, but otherwise okay. She’s down the hall.’ He lifted my hand to his lips, kissed the palm and gave me the poor kitten look again. ‘I’ve read her statement and I know what Van Annen tried to do to you. Look, it’s not the sort of thing to deal with on your own so I’ve arranged an appointment with a counsellor tomorrow.’ I groaned. ‘I don’t need a shrink, I need a hairdresser.’ I took my hand from his and held a lock of hair between two fingers. ‘Look at these singed ends!’ He shook his head. ‘There’s no shame in asking for help. Things I’ve seen on the job would have sent me mad if I hadn’t had counselling.’ I changed the subject.‘What happened to Billy and Wade and the rest?’ ‘Billy’s been charged with kidnapping and attempted murder. Blaine and Veronica were questioned and released. Claimed they had no knowledge of the plot to kill Tamara or you, and Homicide believe them. Blaine was shocked to see the photos, Veronica even more so. She threw her engagement ring at him in the lobby at the Police Complex. Celebrity relationships, they never last.’ 254
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 255
rubdown
‘What about Wade?’ Sean looked toward the window. Syrupy orange sun glinted off the metal frame, lighting up his eyelashes and illuminating the rim of his mouth. ‘At this present time there’s not enough evidence to charge him with anything.’ ‘What?’ ‘There’s nothing to connect him with the kidnapping and Billy’s not talking. In fact he retained Wade as his lawyer.’ ‘Jesus.What about my licence hearing?’ ‘Wade bailed me up in the corridor at St Kilda Road. Told me to remind you about the tribunal next Monday. I could have decked him.’ ‘Fucker!’ There was a knock on the door and he answered. ‘Detectives from Homicide.You up for an interview?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You want me to stay?’ I noticed he was fingering his cigarette packet. ‘No, I’ll be fine.’ A man and woman in cheap suits took my statement and said I’d need to come in for another interview at the Police Complex when I was out of hospital. I was careful to tell them everything I could remember about what had taken place in Wade’s office, and what Billy had told me at the farmhouse. I asked if I’d given them enough to arrest Emery Wade and the man muttered something noncommittal about continuing inquiries on his way out the door. Sean poked his head in. ‘Want some visitors?’ ‘Sure.’ He opened the door wide and Chloe entered, pushing Lulu in a wheelchair. Lulu’s hands were bandaged like a boxer’s. Curtis followed, then Tony, carrying a bunch of carnations and baby’s 255
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 256
leighredhead
breath. He patted my shoulder and seemed relieved when Sean took the bouquet from him and arranged the flowers in a plastic vase. Chloe hit the brakes on the chair, tiptoed over on high heeled boots and hugged me gently, enveloping me in her particular scent of cigarettes, hairspray and Paris perfume. Some people had house parties or went out to dinner. I liked to catch up with all my friends in hospital. ‘How the hell did you find me?’ I asked. ‘Scrapbook.’ She flicked her long hair over her shoulder. ‘You’re joking.’ ‘Nuh. Sean told me you’d gone missing and the cops were searching the city. I remembered an article I’d read in “Women’s Day” about Veronica and Blaine riding horses on his dad’s property up near Daylesford.’ ‘Turned out I knew the journo from Australian Consolidated Press,’ Curtis said, ‘so I gave her a call and found out where the property was at. It was a long shot, but we couldn’t just sit around on our arses, knowing you were in danger.’ I began feeling all warm and fuzzy towards him, until he pulled a folded copy of the Herald Sun from under his left arm and flashed me the front page. BLAINE AND VERONICA SCANDAL One dead as PI and trannie foil kill plot By Curtis Malone ‘That’s not all,’ he said. ‘My special investigation in The Age starts tomorrow. I totally scooped this thing.’ I frowned. Tony was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, shaking his head. 256
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 257
rubdown
‘You don’t mind?’ Curtis asked.‘Only we did have a deal, and if it wasn’t me that bloody Andrew Rule would have jumped on this like a fat Texan at an all you can eat buffet.’ I did mind, but he looked so pleased with himself. And Chloe actually had her arm around his waist, staring up at him like he was Brad Pitt. Weird. She usually looked at men with barely disguised contempt, unless they wore a blue uniform and carried handcuffs, in which case her gaze was one of naked lust. ‘It’s okay,’ I sighed, turning to Lulu. ‘How you doing?’ ‘Not too bad.’ Her voice was even huskier than usual.‘Thanks for saving my life.’ I shrugged and the stitches stung. ‘I just dragged you down some stairs.You saved both of us when you stuck your hands in the fire. I wanted to ask, how did you and Blaine meet?’ ‘At a parlour I used to work at in South Yarra. I started seeing him privately and then his dad found out and that was the end of that.When I met Tammy at the GT Club I told her and she came up with the plan. I called him, begged him to see me one last time and he did. I felt really bad about it, but Tammy said Emery would pay up and Blaine would never find out.’ Sean’s mobile rang, possibly causing another patient’s heart monitor to short. He spoke briefly, then held it to his chest.‘Speak of the devil. Blaine Wade wants to know if it’s okay to come up in an hour.’ ‘What the hell for?’ I asked.‘I just ruined his career, reputation, relationship.’ Sean grinned.‘Not for you, sweetheart. He wants to see Lulu.’ Curtis whipped out a notebook and pen from his back pocket. Lulu raised her bandaged fists to her beard. ‘Oh god, not like this.’ Chloe crouched in front of the wheelchair, hands on the armrests.‘It’s okay, honey. I have my makeup kit in the car. Razors, 257
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 258
leighredhead
tweezers. I even have a wig. We can do this.’ She rolled the chair out of the room so fast it was up on its back wheels. Curtis was muttering to himself, scribbling in his notebook. ‘Footy player tells, my love for balls? AFL star tackles the love that dare not speak its name? Blaine Wade scores own goal?’ ‘Jesus, Curtis,’ I said. ‘Have you no shame?’ ‘Not last time I checked. Gotta get my camera. See ya.’ Tony pushed off from the wall and approached the bed. He put a white business card on the table.‘My solicitor, give him a call.’ ‘Sure. Thanks, Tone.’ He nodded and left. It was just me and Sean. ‘Come here.’ I patted the blanket. He opened his eyes wide. ‘You can’t possibly want sex now.’ ‘Just lie next to me.’ I scooted over to make space and he squeezed onto the narrow bed, sharing the pillow, arm around my waist. I ran my fingers through his soft hair and the smell of his faded aftershave was both erotic and comforting at the same time. ‘You never did tell me why you joined the cops.’ ‘And you never let on why you broke up with your fiancé.’ ‘You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’ He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Alright. When we first moved to Melbourne from Scotland we lived in a house in Richmond. Our next door neighbours were migrants as well, they’d been refugees from Vietnam. Their son Thieu was fourteen, same age as me and we were both the new kids, nerdy types, playing in the school band. ‘I’d always had a flair for languages, learned French, German and Italian by the time I was twelve and he taught me Vietnamese and I taught him English. His dad was an engineer and after a couple of years in Australia was doing pretty well for himself. Not rich by any standards, but enough to make him a target for extortionists. 258
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 259
rubdown
‘A gang of men kidnapped Thieu when he was walking home from school. I usually walked home with him, but that day I’d been hanging out with some other kids, smoking on the back oval, trying to be cooler than I was, I suppose.We got busted, had detention and I wasn’t there. ‘They beat him up and held him for ransom, but his parents couldn’t come up with the sort of money they wanted. Three days later a property valuer was inspecting a vacated premises in Doveton and found Thieu’s body.’ ‘Oh god, Sean.’ ‘Those sort of gangs target their own people knowing they won’t go to the police after what they’ve been through with the authorities back home. I suppose what’s always haunted me is that after they kidnapped and beat him up they left him alone in this deserted house. He wasn’t restrained and his injuries weren’t immediately life threatening. He could have walked out of there at any time and got help.’ ‘Why didn’t he?’ I think I already knew the answer. ‘The theory is that the gang’s psychological tactics of fear and intimidation were more effective than any rope or chain. They would have told Thieu that if he escaped they would not only torture and kill him, but his parents and his younger brother and sister.’ ‘Were the gang ever caught?’ ‘No. Maybe if I’d been with him that day I could have identified them, though.’ ‘You can’t feel guilty you weren’t there.You might have been killed.’ ‘But I do feel guilty about the rest of the week. Thieu wasn’t at school for the next three days and not once did I go around to his house to see if he was alright. I was relieved he wasn’t there. After the smoking and detention thing I was hanging out with the 259
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 260
leighredhead
cool kids.You know what it’s like when you’re fourteen. If I’d had him trailing around after me it would have been all over. Of course it was all over when they found the body. I went to pieces, left school for a while.’ I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept stroking his hair. He was quiet too. Eventually I said,‘You still want to hear my story? It seems pretty shallow and unimportant compared to what you just told me.’ He didn’t reply. Turning my head I realised he was asleep. I studied his face and his freckled arms coming out of rolled-up sleeves. An expansive feeling welled in my chest. Not lust, exactly, something else. I settled my head on his shoulder. My eyes were just beginning to close when I heard a light tap and saw the door open a crack. Alex stuck his head in, saw Sean next to me on the bed and started to withdraw, but I waved him in. He wore a black suit and walked softly, carrying a bunch of tiger lilies wrapped in thick brown paper and pink raffia. Definitely not from the hospital gift shop, they filled the antiseptic room with a delicate, tropical scent. He placed them on the side table and whispered, ‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ He looked at Sean.‘Poor guy was sitting up with you all night.You look tired too. I’d better go.’ ‘I wanted to ask you a favour,’ I whispered back. ‘My licence hearing’s on Monday at two, in your building. Any chance you can come along for some moral support?’ He nodded. ‘Sure.’ I reached my arm across Sean. Alex stretched his arm too and our fingers touched, briefly. He smiled, looked like he was about to say something, then decided against it and turned and walked out the door.
260
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 261
chapterforty-two
E
leven days later it was Sunday and I was hanging around my flat. I hadn’t done much else since they’d released me from hospital, except get my hair cut into long layers and drive Sean to the airport. We’d had one perfect day together before he left, just hanging out, goofing off. At the end of it he’d fucked me unbearably slowly and gently on account of my injuries and every time I thought back to it I just about came. Usually I was a hard and fast girl. Maybe I was expanding my repertoire. The intercom bleated and I ignored it. Journalists. I’d also switched off my mobile and unplugged the phone. They’d forget about me soon as the next big scandal came along. Obviously it hadn’t yet, ’cause the damn thing kept going. I snatched up the receiver. ‘For fuck’s sake, this is harassment.’ 261
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 262
leighredhead
‘Mate!’ It was Chloe. I didn’t particularly feel like seeing anyone, but buzzed her in. A few moments later she was at the front door with Curtis. She carried plastic shopping bags full of deli goods and he held a bottle of cheap champagne.‘It’s a beautiful day. We’re taking you on a picnic!’ I made the effort to smile and felt one corner of my mouth lift, slightly. ‘Thanks, guys, but I’m not in the mood for going anywhere.’ ‘Then the picnic will come to you,’ she said, marching into the kitchen before I could stop her. Curtis smiled and shrugged. I pressed play on the CD Sean had burned for me before he left, then flopped onto the couch. Curtis took the armchair. ‘Thanks for putting me onto Sean’s place. It’s going great.’ I grunted noncommittally. Chloe returned from the kitchen with a platter. Brie, smoked salmon and salami surrounded a central pile of water crackers.‘I’ll just get some glasses.’ ‘None for me, thanks,’ I said. ‘Antibiotics.’ ‘What? How long’s it been?’ ‘Twelve days. Two to go.’ ‘Shit.’ She went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses and the travel bong and dope tin she stashed since I was such an inadequate hostess. She sat cross-legged on the floor and Curtis poured them both a glass while she packed herself a cone.‘Twelve days. Are you alright … mentally?’ The water bubbled as she took a huge pull. ‘Not really.’ ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said in the strangled tones of someone attempting to speak and hold in smoke. ‘This fucking music’s making me want to slit my wrists. Can I change it?’ ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘This is a classic. This is “Every Time We Say 262
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 263
rubdown
Goodbye”. It was playing at the airport … the last time I saw Sean.’ Tears burned my eyes. Not good. ‘You’re depressed.’ ‘My life is shit, I’m not depressed. There’s a difference.’ She crawled over to the couch and gave me a shake.‘Your life’s not shit. Sean’s coming back and you’ll keep your licence. I’m psychic. I know these things.’ ‘And what about Emery Wade? He been charged with anything?’ I looked at Curtis. ‘Not yet. Although I have heard some very interesting rumours about him.’ ‘Really?’ I propped myself up on one elbow and Chloe crawled back to her bong. He sat forward in his seat, animated now. ‘I’ve been having talks with a major publishing house about a book on the case, getting together a bit of background material. Juicy stuff—pity I can’t use it.’ ‘What kind of stuff?’ ‘You know how Emery wrecked his knee?’ ‘Playing football?’ ‘Nuh. Car crash when he was eighteen. Friend driving was fine, but Wade had to be cut out of the car. Shattered kneecap and head injury. In a coma for a week.’ ‘So?’ ‘A year later to the day the driver had another smash. Died.’ ‘Spooky.’ I did ‘The Twilight Zone’ theme. ‘Then there’s the car crash that killed his dad and left his mum a vegetable.’ ‘You can’t be serious.’ ‘Hey,’ He shrugged. ‘It came at a good time for Wade. He’d overextended himself in the property market and buying flash cars.You know the whole eighties ‘greed is good’ thing? Well, he 263
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 264
leighredhead
was fucked, on the verge of bankruptcy. He wanted to take over the firm but Perry, his dad, refused to retire. His mother Elizabeth didn’t approve of him marrying Susan, an ex-model, divorced with a young child. Very “Days of our Lives”. They weren’t going to help him financially unless he broke up with her. After the crash all his problems disappeared.’ ‘Any proof he was involved in either accident?’ ‘Nuh. Still, funny how anyone who fucks with Wade ends up dead.’ I’d been dwelling on that myself.‘It’s a laugh a minute, Curtis, take it from me. Is Elizabeth still alive?’ ‘Yeah, I visited her in this nursing home.’ ‘She have anything to say?’ ‘Man, I didn’t talk to her. One look and I could tell she was non compos mentis, all dribbling and shit. Nursing homes freak me, got out of there as soon as I could.’ He grabbed a cracker, piled it high with salami and cheese and started crunching. All of a sudden he coughed and his eyes bugged out. Chloe leapt off the floor and whacked him on the back.‘What is it, baby? Oh my god, are you alright?’ She smacked so hard the remaining biscuit flew out and landed on the rug. He just sat there with his mouth open and eyes wide, staring straight ahead. ‘What?’ she demanded. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘Give me your hand?’ He said. ‘What?’ ‘Just do it! Give me your hand.’ She stuck her palm out and he held her wrist and lowered it to the crotch of his trendy flat front pants. ‘Oh. My. God,’ she said. Curtis was laughing ecstatically, practically weeping. She turned to me. ‘Simone, I swear I will never ask you for anything again if you just let us—’ 264
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 265
rubdown
‘Go on.’ I waved toward my bedroom door. She whooped and dragged him down the hall. ‘Just one thing,’ I yelled. ‘What? Anything!’ ‘The name of the nursing home Wade’s mother’s in?’ ‘Bayside Aged Care,’ Curtis shouted from the bedroom.‘Why?’ ‘Who the fuck cares why?’ Chloe slammed the door.
265
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 266
chapterforty-three
T
he home was more Bentleigh than bayside, a sprawling single storey building off Centre Road constructed of pale brick and surrounded by privet hedges. I walked up the concrete ramp and entered a lobby with sickly green walls and a speckled vinyl floor. I explained I was there to visit Elizabeth Wade, my long lost greataunt, and a nurse with short grey hair, white shoes and a blue cardigan led me to her ward. On the way down the corridor we passed old folks sitting in wheelchairs and the further we travelled into the facility the stronger the smell of urine and decay became. I glanced at a woman with sparse white hair, gnarled hands, and wrinkles like fissures. She looked back with hard blue eyes. A young woman’s eyes. I had an awful feeling that maybe, trapped inside the collapsing body, was a twenty-five year old, wondering how it could have come to this. 266
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 267
rubdown
I imagined myself in the same situation, my pulse skyrocketed, and I quickly looked away. Straight into a tiled room on the other side of the corridor where a naked man with wasted legs and arms was strapped to a plastic chair, an orderly hosing him down. The orderly talked to him kindly, in tones you’d use with a child. I’d thought Curtis was being harsh, but now I knew what he meant. I resolved to live fast and die young. Entirely possible the way things were going. Elizabeth Wade’s ward had four beds, two on each side of the room. Hers was by a window overlooking the car park. The nurse drew the curtain and asked if I’d like a cup of tea. I said yes and sat on an orange plastic chair studying Emery’s mother. She was nearly bald, and through the few strands of grey plastered to her scalp I saw a jagged scar that ran from her crown to the corner of her left eye. One cheekbone was depressed and her toothless mouth gaped, exposing red gums. Her eyes, the same sea-grey as her son’s, were blank and dull. The nurse came back with a plastic mug of sweet, milky tea, a Scotch Finger biscuit propped on the saucer. I took a sip and nearly gagged. The urine smell was so far up my nose the tea tasted like piss. I didn’t dare try the biscuit. I kept breathing shallow and took Elizabeth Wade’s hand. The skin was loose and cool and the hand weighed nothing, like a dead bird. I cleared my throat then spoke softly. ‘Mrs Wade. Elizabeth. My name’s Simone Kirsch and I’m having a bit of trouble with Emery, your son. He knocked off his stepdaughter, tried to have me killed and I’ve heard he’s responsible for your husband’s death and your current, um, condition. Thing is, no one can prove it, which is where you come in.’ I squeezed her hand.‘Do you remember anything about the accident? Anything at all?’ I looked into the cloudy eyes. Her pupils did not waver. I kept my hand still in case she pressed back, gave some sign. Nothing. 267
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 268
leighredhead
Of course there was nothing. What the hell had I been thinking? Talk about clutching at straws. I’d obviously seen one too many movies where the catatonic patient is jolted out of their coma by a word, a phrase, the voice of the killer and sits up, wide eyed and gasping. Either that or I was completely losing it. Maybe the alcohol withdrawal was messing with my mind. I had to face the fact that I was going to lose my licence, have to change my name and move to a caravan park in Bumfuck New South Wales where Wade couldn’t find me. I’d be able to get a job in the local supermarket and if I really applied myself and worked hard maybe, just maybe, I could work my way up to a managerial position in ten years. For some reason I couldn’t visualise a husband, but imagined having an affair with the guy who owned the local car dealership. Receding hair, big belly and gold chains. Tears welled up as I felt sorry for myself again. Jesus. And I’d always thought I was such a tough chick. I tipped my head back and opened my eyes wide to stop the tears spilling. And that’s when I saw it, hanging from the curtain frame. An octagonal red feng shui mirror like I’d seen nailed above the doorway at Fong Chan Travel. The nurse poked her head around the curtain.‘Sorry to interrupt you, dear, but we’re about to serve lunch.You can come back when afternoon visiting starts.’ I rose from the chair, still eyeing the mirror. ‘Who put that there?’ ‘Oh, the good luck charm? We’re really not supposed to have things hanging from the beds or railings but I couldn’t see the harm. It was Mrs Wade’s only regular visitor. Comes in every Sunday at two on the dot. Lovely Chinese lady. Mrs Chan.
268
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 269
chapterforty-four
I
drove back to my place and when I got out of the Futura I could hear them going for it from the street. Chloe made love like other people got stabbed to death and I knew the body corporate was going to be bringing some grief my way in the next few days. Inside the flat I grabbed some items I thought might come in handy, slipped them into a manila envelope then headed back to the nursing home to wait out of sight, across the road from the car park. A couple of minutes to two a silver Holden Astra pulled up and Wu got out, dressed in a hot pink, shot silk suit. I took a couple of photos of her entering the building and when she emerged twenty minutes later I was leaning against her driver’s side door. I was shit scared but knew I had to suppress it and conjure ‘tough broad’. Hell, I could act. I used to work in the sex industry, for god’s sake. ‘Hey,Wu.’ 269
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 270
leighredhead
She stopped, looked shocked for a second, then closed down her face and crossed her arms over her chest. Her nails were long and false, the same colour as the suit. ‘Simone Kirsch,’ I said. ‘You may remember me from such unmitigated disasters as the Tullamarine shootout.’ ‘Get away from my car.’ Her voice was clipped. Up close her skin was flawless and although she must have been mid forties she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. ‘Not until you tell me why you’ve visited Elizabeth Wade nearly every Sunday for the last two decades. I’ve been racking my brain and the only thing I can come up with is Emery must have hired you and Neville to do the hit on his folks and you’ve had a bad case of the guilts since then. Am I right?’ Her mouth was a hard line. Her eyes were hidden behind Gucci sunnies.‘You’re crazy. Get away from my car or I’ll call the police.’ ‘I’ve already spoken to them,’ I lied. ‘They’re after Wade and were very interested in my theory. They want to speak to you and are prepared to offer immunity from prosecution, and witness protection if you testify against Neville and Wade.’ Watching all those episodes of ‘Law and Order’ had served me well. I saw her hand start trembling and she licked her lips and looked around like a SWAT team was about to leap out from the shrubbery. She said, ‘I wouldn’t speak out against the father of my child.’ ‘That’s romantic and beautiful,Wu. Obviously you don’t know what he’s up to.’ I threw her the folder. ‘Go on, have a look. It’s Neville and your right hand woman, Ling Sun. I’ve also got transcripts of their conversation—he’s taking up with her. And that nest egg of cash you’ve got in your safe? They’re pissing off with it.’ ‘You’re lying.’ ‘Take a look at the pictures.’ 270
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 271
rubdown
She flipped through and her nostrils flared. Her hands shook violently. ‘If Wade finds out I’m talking about him he’ll kill me and my son. I can’t.’ ‘Well, you’re going to have to because if you don’t, I’ll tell him you have.You’re fucked either way.’ She stepped forward and slapped me once, very hard, on the face. I didn’t react. I was getting used to pain and, besides, I knew I deserved it. ‘Neville’s still in hospital, yeah? Think it over for a couple of hours then call me. My card’s with the photos.’ I moved away from the car and she got in and threw the folder on the passenger seat before gunning the engine and squealing off. When I got home Curtis and Chloe had left. They’d changed my sheets and Chloe had left a thank you note in her customary loopy writing with hearts dotting the i’s. She’d even cracked a few windows to get the smell of sex out of the air. Considerate to a fault. I called Alex for some advice but when his message bank clicked in decided not to leave one. He’d just scold me for going out on my own. Tony too. But if I had something concrete, well, they’d forgive my methods. Three hours later Wu still hadn’t called and I began to realise the stupidity of my makeshift plan. What if she’d gone straight back and told Neville and Emery? I closed all the windows, drew the curtains and deadlocked the door. In between regretting what I’d told her, I thought of Sean. I lay on the couch and felt his absence like a solid weight on my chest. I wondered what he was doing and imagined him wandering through a night market, the moist air full of smells: exotic flowers, spices, rotting food. I listened to his CD, then turned it off because it was making me cry, sipped water and thought about how when you weren’t drunk the night stretched on forever. It was kind of terrifying. 271
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 272
leighredhead
At nine the phone rang and I jumped. ‘Hello?’ It was Wu. ‘Alright. I believe you. I want that bastard to go down. Emery too. I never liked the prick.’ ‘So you’ll come to the police with me?’ ‘No. I know what happens to so-called protected witnesses. But I’ll get you some evidence that proves Wade had his father killed. Meet me at Golden Sun Noodle on Springvale Road tomorrow at eleven. No cops.’ Eleven am. My hearing was at two. It was doable. ‘Thanks,Wu,’ I said. ‘Fuck you,’ she replied.
272
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 273
chapterforty-five
I
arrived at the Golden Sun Noodle bar at quarter to eleven and ordered a duck soup, then sat by the window and watched the street. The restaurant was brightly lit and laminated. Red and gold paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and incense burned at a shrine in the corner. My soup arrived with a small saucer of chilli and soy and pot flask of green tea. Red-skinned roast duck floated between noodles, bok choy and spring onions. I sipped salty broth and nibbled on fatty duck meat. Delicious, but my heart was beating double time and I was way too nervous to eat. I doubted my plan again.What if it was a set-up? Why didn’t I have any back-up? What back-up? Sean was gone, Alex had a life and Tony Torcasio a business to run, despite a major liability in the form of yours truly. I’d caused enough trouble as it was, made a mess of things and fucked up my 273
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 274
leighredhead
life. But if Wu came through I could fix it. I’d be the one to bring Emery Wade down. At eleven fifteen I thought she must be running late. Eleven thirty I imagined she’d been knocked. Twenty to twelve my soup was cold and I felt like a fucking idiot. The phone rang behind the counter and the waiter answered, then yelled out: ‘Simo? Simo Kirs?’ I scraped back my plastic chair and hurried over. It was Wu. ‘Where the hell are you?’ I hissed. ‘About to board a plane to somewhere no one will ever find me, with my son and retirement fund in tow.’ My heart sank. ‘Why’d you even bother calling?’ ‘Wasn’t lying about that evidence. It’s in my best interests to have Neville and Wade put away.’ I was back up again. A delirious joy. ‘What is it?’ ‘A video recording Neville made in eighty-three. He liked to keep up with the new technology and never trusted Wade as far as he could kick him, he said. Wanted some insurance in case things went wrong. It’s in the safe in the office at the GT Club. In the wall behind the filing cabinet. Combination 31-15-72.’ I grabbed the waiter’s pen and scribbled the number on the back of my hand. ‘You’re going to have to hurry though,’ Wu said. ‘I’m supposed to pick up Neville from the hospital at midday. When I don’t show he’ll eventually call a cab, come home and find out I’ve cleared out the safe.’ ‘How much?’ ‘Enough. More than enough where I’m going. I replaced the cash with the photos of him and Ling Sun.’ ‘Nice touch.’ ‘After that he’ll head straight to Good Times to check the safe 274
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:51 AM
Page 275
rubdown
there. It contains another twenty grand as well as the tape and he’ll take both. I know him.’ I did some quick calculations in my head. Neville could get home at one, be in South Melbourne by half past. The clock above the cash register said it was eleven fifty. ‘Shit, Wu, that’s not enough time to contact the police, get a warrant.’ ‘Well, you’ll have to go there and get it.’ ‘Won’t be admissable as evidence.’ ‘Not my problem. I’m out of here.’ ‘Wait. There’s just one thing I want to know before you go.’ She sighed. ‘What?’ ‘You show all this concern for Wade’s parents, who you never even knew, yet you import women as sex slaves.What gives?’ She laughed down the phone line. ‘You believe everything you read? The girls I bring in want to come. They’re on a waiting list. Don’t mind paying back the money it takes to bring them in, because once they do they earn so much more than they ever would in China. How else are they going to get here? Walk into the embassy and ask for a visa for sex work? It’s how I came over in nineteen eighty. Best thing I ever did.’ ‘But the girls say—’ ‘Of course they say that when they get busted. Makes the authorities go easier on them. Look, I’ve got to go.’ So did I. It was eleven fifty-five. I had to get to the GT Club.
275
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 276
chapterforty-six
A
t twelve thirty I was parked across the road from the GT Club in a no standing zone. Bloody South Melbourne. I used my mobile to call the brothel and was relieved to find that Marla wasn’t on reception that day. First hurdle overcome. I had a feeling Neville would have told her not to let me back in. The girls I ought to be able to deal with. I had a feeling they’d be on my side. I pulled my bag of disguises from the back seat, wiggled into a miniskirt, stay-up stockings, a tight red top that hid the stitches and my rather ratty looking Marilyn Monroe wig. I reckoned it looked fake as hell, but guys always thought it was my own hair. Go figure. I slashed red lipstick across my mouth, smudged a whole bunch of black shit around my eyes and at the last minute ditched normal heels for my old stripping boots. Thigh high black latex, platform and a metal spike heel. I’d missed these babies, 276
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 277
rubdown
hadn’t worn them for four months and what better place than a skanky brothel? I grabbed my handbag and slammed the door shut. The outfit was obviously doing it for a bunch of panelbeaters having a footpath smoko because they whistled and catcalled. I smiled graciously and waved like the queen, crossed the road and rang the bell. A forty something lady with short blonde hair and a pants-suit answered and looked surprised to see me. I pushed past her into the dim interior like I hadn’t noticed. ‘How you doing? I’m Candy the new massage girl. Sorry I’m late but Marla said it’d be cool since I was coming all the way from Geelong.’ I headed for the girls’ room but stopped when she said: ‘No one told me we had a new girl starting.You’re not on the roster.’ ‘You’re fucking kidding.’ I walked over to the desk, leaned on it and made a show of checking the names written on a small whiteboard. ‘I organised this a couple of weeks ago with Neville and Marla.What, I’m just supposed to turn around and go home ’cause someone forgot to write my name on the roster?’ The woman patted my arm. ‘No, no, love, it’s alright. In fact it’s good to have you here.We’re having a really busy day and we’re short a couple of girls. It’s just bloody typical. Place is all over the shop since Nev’s been in hospital. I’m Phillipa, by the way.’ I nodded sympathetically. ‘I can understand. It was such a shock to hear about the shooting. He doing okay?’ ‘Oh yes. Recovering nicely.’ ‘So glad to hear it.’ Not. The bell rang and when she crossed to open the door I scanned the desk for the office key. There it was, on a hook with a little purple tag that said OFFICE. Nice of Nev to make it so easy for me. I was just about to snatch it up when Phillipa turned from the doorway. 277
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 278
leighredhead
‘Candy?’ ‘Uh-huh?’ ‘Better put your stuff in the girls’ room. Got an intro coming up.’ ‘Sure.’ Shit. The room was empty except for Janine, still knitting and still busting out of the hot pink dress like an overcooked footy frank. ‘Hi, I’m Candy.’ I dropped my bag on the floor and adjusted my wig in the mirror. ‘Janine.You look familiar. Did you used to work at Westside X?’ ‘Nuh.’ ‘Ladies for Gentlemen?’ ‘Nope.’ The intercom went off and Phillipa said: ‘Intro, ladies.’ I followed Janine down the hall and heard her spiel. I knew what full service and Greek were, but what the hell was roseleafing? And more importantly, did I even want to know? When she’d finished I entered the lounge. The man on the couch was fat, wore a taxi driver’s uniform and smelled like he’d just finished a long shift. I didn’t want him to pick me, didn’t want anyone to pick me, but unfortunately Janine wasn’t much competition.With any luck he was hell-bent on roseleafing. ‘Hi, I’m Candy.’ I said.‘I don’t do sex, I don’t do oral, I definitely don’t kiss and there’s no touching.’ ‘What do you do?’ ‘A very clinical sort of massage.’ ‘Hand relief?’ ‘I guess so.’ I went back to the girls’ room and heard Phillipa over the intercom: ‘Candy. Half an hour massage in room three.’ Damn it. The boots had been an awful mistake. No man could resist them. 278
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 279
rubdown
Back in reception I glanced at the wall clock. It was one. Neville could be here in half an hour. My hearing was at two. I eyed the office key. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, love,’ Phillipa said. ‘But I’d work on your introduction a little. Rather than outlining the things you don’t do, why not emphasise the things you do? Hi, my name’s Candy and I provide a wildly erotic full body nude massage?’ ‘Thanks, Phillipa, I’ll take that on board.’ How to get her away from the desk? ‘Uh, could you show me where the towels go after a booking?’ ‘Show you after. Better get a move on. I’ve got another two back to back bookings for you after this. Everyone wants to see the new girl!’ Room three was the same one Marla had taken me into when I’d first set foot in the GT Club. When had that been? Three weeks ago? A month? Seemed like a lifetime. I noticed the office was two doors up and tried the door in case it was unlocked. Of course it wasn’t, that would be way too easy. Back in the room I closed the door and found that although the taxi driver had showered it hadn’t made a shred of difference to the smell. He had a threadbare pink towel wrapped around his ample waist, lots of belly hair, and below the belly the towel had, well, made a tent. He stretched his arms wide and I watched in horror as the apex of the tent led him towards me, like some kind of homing beacon. A song by Wet Wet Wet,“Love is All Around”, came on the radio. He smiled. Stained teeth and a three day growth. ‘Give us a cuddle.’ I backed away so the massage table was between us. I’d had just about enough of guys coming at me with erections. Did Phillip Marlowe have to deal with this stuff? Kinsey Millhone? I was sure Tony Torcasio didn’t. I thought about karma again. Maybe in my 279
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 280
leighredhead
last life I was the Greek god Priapus, running around with a permanent stiffy, and now I was paying for it. ‘Come on, all the other girls do.’ I patted the table. ‘Why don’t you lie down.’ ‘On the bed?’ ‘No.’ ‘You do oral?’ ‘I’ve already told you I don’t.’ ‘Sex?’ ‘No.’ ‘Why not?’ Why not? A few things went through my head. Like, ’cause I don’t need the money that badly, I wouldn’t if you were the last dick on earth, and if I was going to shag for money, I’d be a high class hooker and not working in a dive like this, fucking taxi drivers for thirty bucks a pop. I checked the clock. Quarter past one. The only way I could imagine ever getting that office key was to march back out to the desk and take it off Phillipa by force. Shit, I was desperate but I couldn’t whack an innocent woman on the head. Maybe I could evacuate the building? Fire, smoke alarm? My eyes darted around the room, and stopped on a little red knob by the bed. Looked like the panic button Dahlia had talked about at the Daily Planet. ‘Are you frigid?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you like sex?’ I backed up to the button and hit it with my heel while slowly unzipping my top. ‘Honey,’ I said,‘I like sex so damn much I couldn’t possibly do it for a job. It’s my reason for living, it’s what motivates me—hell, sometimes I think it’s my religion. Imagine if I turned this wonderful, transcendent experience into mere work and was turned off forever. It would be a tragedy.’ ‘Fair enough,’ he said, and then Phillipa kicked the door in. 280
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 281
rubdown
She stood there, Charlie’s Angels style, brandishing a can of mace. ‘Get away from her!’ she yelled. ‘Wha—’ he turned. I screamed something unintelligible and ran out, straight to the desk where I grabbed the key. Tearing back past room three on my way to the office I saw Phillipa coming towards me. ‘Candy, come here! What’s going on?’ I grabbed the doorknob, pulled it shut and held on while she tugged from the other side. I looked around for something I could slide in front to block her in. Nothing. The voice of one of my tutors from PI school floated around my brain. Failing to plan is planning to fail. Tell me about it, buddy. Through the door I heard the taxi driver say, ‘Give me a go.’ I held on, heels dug in and shoulder to the doorframe as he wrenched at the inside knob. I heard a grunt, the sound of someone hitting the carpet and the knob came off in my hand. The door was still closed. They couldn’t open it. Phillipa banged the wood. ‘Candy! Let us out!’ I ran to the office, my hand trembling so much I could barely fit the key in the lock. It had to be nearly half past one. I opened the door to a small, windowless room with a pitted wooden desk and shelves full of X-rated videos and towels even thinner than those in the rooms. Framed nudes leaned against the walls. Perhaps too tasteful to qualify as fully fledged brothel art? The filing cabinet was on the other side of the room, a metal four drawer number, and I leaned my back against it and pushed with all my weight, ignoring the sting as my stitches strained to burst. The cabinet wouldn’t budge so I tipped it over instead. There was the safe. I checked the numbers on my hand, turned the dial and the lock clicked free. About time things got a little easier for me. I swung the door open and gazed at a pile of cash, thick wads of hundreds and fifties bound with rubber bands. 281
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 282
leighredhead
A devil on my shoulder told me to stick one of the wads down my knickers. Didn’t I deserve it for my troubles? I couldn’t. I’d never stolen anything except kisses, not even when I was ten and all my little hippy mates would shoplift Kmart dry every time we went into town. Even my mum ripped stuff off in those days. Always told me it wasn’t illegal unless you got caught. I felt behind the money and my fingers closed around a video in an ordinary cardboard case. I snatched it up and ran out the door. Straight into Neville Annis.
282
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 283
chapterforty-seven
N
eville had always been ugly as a hatful of arseholes. Rage made him more so. His pocked nose was bright red and broken capillaries flared across his craggy cheeks. He carried a screwdriver which he’d obviously used to let Phillipa and the taxi driver out of the room. I heard them in reception arguing about a refund. I guessed he’d been expecting Wu, because it took him a few seconds to realise it was me under the wig. And to see I was holding the video. I used his hesitation to pull my fist back and punch his chest where I thought the bullet had hit him. Must have been pretty accurate because his ruddy face went white and he fell back against the opposite wall, gasping for air. I ran to reception on tippytoes so my slut-boots wouldn’t break my ankles. 283
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 284
leighredhead
‘Stop her!’ He yelled as he struggled to his feet. Phillipa blocked the front door and taxi man came at me. I feinted left, he lunged, and I darted right, up the other corridor and into the girls’ room, where Janine was still knitting. I glanced behind and saw Neville a few metres away, grabbed my bag and was out the back door. Just before I slammed it I heard Janine say, ‘Palace Playmates, am I right?’ The concrete yard comprised a high cinderblock wall, padlocked back gate, two wheelie bins full of stuff that didn’t bear thinking about and a plastic milk crate. I shoved one wheelie bin against the door just as Neville crashed into it. Knowing it wouldn’t hold long I rolled the other to the wall and used the milk crate to climb up, careful not to catch my metal heels in the holes. Kneeling on the bin, I slapped my hands on top of the wall and realised too late it was embedded with broken glass. Shit. Just then Neville pushed open the door, knocking the bin over and spilling soiled tissues and plastic bags of used condoms onto the concrete. He jumped over the mess and came at me, slashing the air with the screwdriver. I didn’t hesitate and pulled myself over. The glass punctured my palms, sliced a gash in my left side, ripped up my stockings and scratched my thighs. I half slid, half fell to the footpath and ran around the corner to my car. It was gone. One of the panelbeaters came out of the workshop and lit a smoke, pointing it toward the no standing sign. ‘Towed it ten minutes ago.’ He leaned forward when he saw the blood. ‘Shit, are you alright?’ Neville ran out the front door of the GT Club and right at me, waving the screwdriver. Panelbeater dropped his cigarette and darted inside. He was out a few seconds later with the rest of the guys, all bearing tools. Neville pointed at me and said, ‘That bitch—’ ‘Oi, mate, show a bit of respect. What did you do to her?’ 284
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 285
rubdown
They advanced on him, smacking hammers against their palms. Keeping the panelbeating gang between me and Neville I backed down the street. My phone rang and I fished it out of my bag. ‘Simone, it’s Alex. I’m at the hearing and everyone’s waiting. You don’t show, you automatically forfeit your licence.’ ‘Stall ’em, Alex, say I’m stuck in traffic. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.’ Cab. I needed a cab. Just then the taxi driver left the GT Club, saw the commotion going on between Neville and the workshop guys, and slunk to the opposite footpath, hurrying towards his vehicle. He looked back and saw me following. ‘Get away from me, you’re fucking crazy!’ ‘I need a cab.’ ‘Forget about it.’ ‘I’ll tip you.’ ‘It wouldn’t be enough.’ He reached the driver’s door and unlocked it. I rummaged through my purse, saw how much I had and thrust it across the roof of the taxi.‘I’ll give you two hundred bucks to take me to the Flinders Street Police Centre.’ A five minute drive, max. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But don’t you dare bleed on the seats.’ Four and a half minutes later we pulled up in front of the World Trade Centre. I jumped out of the cab, ran through the lobby, up two escalators and caught a lift to the eleventh floor. Plain-clothes coppers turned to look as I passed, but I was too quick for them. By the time they thought to ask the crazed, bleeding hooker what business she had in the building, I was gone. I spilled out of the lift, pushed through double doors leaving bloody handprints on the glass and shouted at the guy behind the counter. ‘The two o’clock hearing! Where is it? I’m late.’ 285
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 286
leighredhead
Eyes wide he pointed to a door on my left and I marched over and knocked. I tried to collect myself while I waited, to catch my breath, gather my thoughts. Didn’t work. My pulse was racing and my breathing staccato. There were no thoughts to gather ’cause my mind was pretty much gone. Blood ran from the wound in my side and pooled in the waistband of my skirt. My palms were wet and sticky. Curiously, there was no pain. I crossed my arms so the extent of my injuries wouldn’t be noticeable and my forearm would cover the bloody slash in my top. Not much I could do about the legs. A framed poem hung on the wall next to the door. The Desiderata. It suggested I ‘go placidly amid the noise and haste’. For some reason that struck me as hilarious and I started laughing, a strange gurgle that seemed to be coming from a long way away. Then I realised Alex had answered the door and was staring at me. I looked past him into the hearing room. It was tiny, with the same red walls and blue carpet as the lobby, and a huge oval table made of blonde wood filled most of the space. Emery was sitting on the opposite side of it, staring too, and at the head a uniformed policeman with white hair had his mouth open, eyes bugging out. I cleared my throat and tried to sound as much like an ABC news reader as possible. ‘I’m awfully sorry to have kept everyone waiting. The traffic on Kingsway was terrible. Shall we begin?’ Blood dripped between my fingers and onto my right forearm. Alex took an immaculate handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to me. I pressed it between my palms, still keeping my side wound hidden with my arm. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘I’m taking you to a doctor.’ ‘No need,’ I said. ‘Just a scratch.’ ‘If you need medical attention…’ the white haired policeman said. 286
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 287
rubdown
I shook my head. ‘I’m fine. Average day in the PI biz, you know how it is.’ The cop looked at Wade.Wade said,‘If Ms Kirsch is sure she’s alright, I have no problem with proceeding.’ He smiled at me. I smiled back. Alex and I sat down. He examined me like he was trying to work out what I was on. Adrenaline, which I decided had much the same effects as speed, with a little acid thrown in for good measure. My pupils were probably huge. The policeman said, ‘My name is Detective Inspector Brian Cornwell. I’m the Deputy Registrar of Private Agents, Victoria. The allegations against Ms Kirsch have already been investigated. We’ll give her a chance to respond and then I decide the outcome. As I’m sure you’re all aware, these licence hearings operate like a civil court, on the balance of probabilities, and the witnesses are not under oath nor are we bound by the rules of evidence. Mr Wade, if you’d like to begin.’ Wade looked straight at me, mouth almost curling up at the corners.‘Certainly. On the eighteenth of April I came home early to discover Ms Kirsch inside my garage, in the process of stealing my late daughter’s mobile phone.When I asked my wife why she had let her in she responded that Ms Kirsch had informed her I’d given my permission, which I had not.’ Inspector Cornwell turned to me.‘Do you wish to respond to these allegations?’ ‘Yes I do. I said no such thing. Susan Wade invited me into the premises and gave me permission to look through the mobile for a phone number pertinent to a case I was working on.’ Cornwell said, ‘Mrs Susan Wade has given a statement refuting that.’ I said, ‘It’s her word against mine.’ 287
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 288
leighredhead
Emery’s smile grew broader.‘May I?’ he asked Cornwell, then took a videotape from his briefcase, pushed back his chair and walked over to a TV and video unit in the corner. When the tape started playing it took me a while to work out what I was looking at. Some pattern, a blur. Then I saw it was hundreds of tiny hexagonal tiles. Wade’s verandah. There must have been a hidden security camera in the porch roof. My head came into view and a few seconds later I realised the camera had been wired for sound because my lie to Susan rang out across the hearing room. Wade looked triumphant. Alex put his hand on my shoulder. Cornwell said, ‘On considering the material available to me, I’m convinced the respondent has engaged in conduct as a private agent which is dishonest and have decided to cancel the licence, taking effect today. Ms Kirsch, if you’ll surrender said licence out at the front desk—’ ‘Wait!’ I said. ‘You’re going on the word of a guy who killed his mate, his parents, and just three weeks ago his stepdaughter?’ ‘Simone, leave it.’ Alex said. ‘I’m taking you to get those cuts looked at.’ I reached into my bag and held up the video.‘What if I’ve got evidence of my own?’ Wade shook his head and looked at the detective inspector.‘You made the right decision, Inspector, she’s obviously unbalanced. Ever since I caught her misrepresenting herself she’s had a vendetta and, as I’m sure you know, has been making unfounded allegations against me.’ I shook Alex off and marched around to the video player, ejected Wade’s tape and threw it at him, then stuck mine in and pressed play. ‘Vendetta this, motherfucker.’ I stared at the screen. Black. The time counter ticked over on the VCR but there was nothing on the 288
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 289
rubdown
television. I pressed fast forward. Still nothing. The tape was blank. No one was looking at the TV, they were gazing at the gash in my side and the ever expanding blood stain that was turning my red top maroon. ‘I’m getting you to a hospital.’ Alex stood up. Wade gathered up his briefcase. ‘Best place for her. Do you mind, Inspector? I have a rather busy afternoon.’ Cornwell nodded and Wade squeezed past the television, then past me. Just before he got to the door an old fashioned countdown bleeped from the screen and he stopped and turned. A grainy picture wobbled into view. Neville and Emery in a suburban back yard, Neville in obscenely short stubbies turning sausages on a barbecue, and Wade wearing a flared pinstriped suit with a wide tie. His hair was longer and he had chunky sideburns. The sound was bad quality, scratchy, but everyone could hear Neville when he said, ‘So what’s this job you want me to do?’ ‘Do you mind?’ Wade asked. ‘I have to check,’ and Neville lifted his t-shirt, shucked his shorts and slowly turned around. ‘That’s fine,’ said Wade. Neville sorted out his clothing. Wu Chan walked into the frame, carrying a tray with two cans of KB lager. She was dressed like Madonna in her ‘Holiday’ phase, wearing a mesh top, fingerless gloves and a raggy hair band.When she’d handed over the beers and left Wade spoke up. ‘I want you to kill my parents.’
289
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 290
chapterforty-eight
I
was so mesmerised by the grainy video I didn’t see Wade drop his briefcase and come at me until it was too late. He grabbed me by the throat, pushed me back on the conference table and banged my head into the wood. I couldn’t believe it. His whole face had changed. Mr Smooth had left the building and in his place was a snarling, rabid animal, glassy eyed, immaculate hair flopping forward. A couple of seconds later Alex and Inspector Cornwell grabbed Wade from behind and pulled him off me. I lay there gulping in air and Cornwell bent over to see if I was alright. Alex was getting his cuffs out and telling Wade he was under arrest for assault when Wade lunged and grabbed Cornwell’s gun from his belt. He stepped back and swung it from Alex to Cornwell, shouting at them to get away. They retreated a couple of steps and Wade pulled me off the table by my shirt and held me 290
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 291
rubdown
to him. My back was against his chest, his arm hooked around my throat, and he pressed the gun barrel to my right temple. Alex and Cornwell had their arms out, calling him mate, telling him to calm down and lower the gun. Wade dragged me towards the door.‘Stay the fuck away or I’ll shoot the bitch. Should have killed her the first time.Would have but that fucking bleeding heart Billy talked me out of it.’ Keeping the gun at my head he took his arm off my throat, flicked open the door handle and hauled me into the lobby, his back to the wall. Alex and Cornwell followed slowly, talking softly and trying not to spook him, as if he were a wild brumby they were trying to tame.Wade was snorting like a horse, breathing hard out of his nostrils, and with my back against him I felt his heart pounding beneath his starched shirt. Mine should have been jumping out my chest, but I must have been in shock. I was oddly calm. The guy behind the reception desk saw us and ran out a door. Wade pulled me toward the glass doors but stopped when the lifts opened and uniformed cops poured out, guns raised. He backed up against the wall, adjacent to the doors. Cornwell said, ‘Now, Mr Wade, let’s talk about this. What do you want?’ ‘Let me out of here or I spray her brains all over the carpet.’ ‘Okay, look, I’m sure we can work something out.’ While Cornwell was talking I saw Alex inching his hand into his jacket. Wade saw too and yelled so hard my ear popped. ‘Don’t even think about it! I’ll do it!’ Alex withdrew his hand and held it out where Wade could see it. Everything was quiet suddenly. All I could hear was the airconditioning and Wade’s ragged breathing. And then I got the giggles like I had reading the Desiderata. 291
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 292
leighredhead
Wade had me in a headlock about to blow my brains out, but for the first time I wasn’t intimidated by him. My laughter got louder and I couldn’t stop. ‘Shut up!’Wade shouted. ‘Just shut up!’ ‘No way. You’re a piece of shit, Wade. You’re misogynist, a hypocrite. Think you’re so superior to all the working girls? I’ve met junkie street hookers with more integrity in one fake fingernail than you’ll ever have.’ ‘Shut up!’ Alex was shaking his head at me, trying to get me to stop. But I wasn’t going to. ’Cause I knew something the others didn’t. Wade was going to kill me. And he was going to do it soon. When I was nineteen my flatmate came home one morning tripping on LSD. She was lying in the back yard hallucinating, looking up at the sky, and I lay down next to her. All I saw was blue and a few clouds until she shifted position, our bodies touched and suddenly I was off my tits, visions of skulls and whirlpools and colours dancing in front of my eyes. When I moved away it stopped. Pressed against Emery I experienced the same thing. But I was seeing blood and bone and brain. My own. And I could feel his hatred for me leak from his every pore. So I had a plan. Not a very good one, but without a plan you’re planning to fail, right? Eye contact had worked with Lulu out at the farmhouse. Surely it would work with Alex. We’d shared meaningful looks before. Hopefully he’d get the meaning of this one. I gazed in the direction of his shoulder holster, then into his eyes and smiled. He got it alright, but shook his head almost imperceptibly from side to side. I kept smiling and hoped he was a quick draw. Just before I made my move another shot of adrenaline jacked through my veins and everything in the room became bright and 292
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 293
rubdown
clear. The carpet was the deepest blue, the Coke machine so red it hurt my eyes. The fake plants, the cops with their guns and tense expressions, all stood out in sharp relief. And I lifted my leg and drove that metal spike heel straight through Emery’s Italian leather lace-ups, right into his foot, crunching through muscle and bone. Then I threw myself to the side. Alex reached in his jacket. Emery screamed and grabbed at my hair as I fell, pulled the trigger and shot the wig. Alex pulled his pistol and fired at Emery as I hit the carpet, ankle twisting, heel still embedded in his foot. I looked up. Emery was clutching his throat, bright blood gushing through his fingers. He held his gun out and Alex dived towards the hearing room. Emery squeezed the trigger and the framed Desiderata crashed to the floor. So did he.
293
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 294
epilogue
From: “Simone Kirsch”
[email protected] To:
[email protected] Subject: All kindsa shit Dear Sean Hey gorgeous, how’s Nha Trang? Sorry I haven’t got back to you for so long. So much shit going on I hardly know where to start. Just found out that Emery Wade has been pronounced fit for trial and so his committal hearing is going ahead next week. Yay! Billy is apparently giving evidence against him and so is Neville. Think they’ve both cut some sort of deal. Emery still can’t speak, that bullet totally tore up his larynx, but he’ll have someone else representing him so I guess it doesn’t matter. Hey, maybe he’ll get
294
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 295
rubdown one of those weird throat things like that guy on South Park. Is that mean? Hell, the fucker tried to kill me. I don’t think so. You know how Alex got stood down while his own department had to investigate him after the shooting? Well he’s been cleared of any wrongdoing and is transferring to fraud. Sounds just as boring as Ethical Standards if you ask me. If I was a cop I’d want something glamorous like armed robbery or vice. Is there even a vice squad anymore? Sorry, had too much coffee this morning. Raving on. Did I tell you? I got my licence back! The deputy registrar gave me a call after Billy and Neville started talking. I asked him why, when he’d seen a video of me lying to Susan Wade, and he reminded me he wasn’t bound by the rules of evidence but he didn’t want to see me in there again. So I called up Tony and asked about some work and I’m going to meet with him next week, after Wade’s committal hearing. About time. Curtis has signed a deal to write a book about the Wade case, but they have to wait until all the trials are over so I don’t know when it’ll come out. He got an advance though so he should be cool with paying the rent. Him and Chloe are hanging out all the time but I think her initial adoration after he got hit by the bullet has cooled a little. They’ve turned into one of those couples that fight, then fuck, then fight … you know how it goes. His by-line has been popping up absolutely everywhere. He did this article for New Idea about Lulu and Blaine, the love that dare not speak its name. Lots of staged pictures of the two of them staring into each other’s eyes. Blaine quit football and they moved up to the property in Daylesford. They’re building some guesthouse and Susan Wade is living up there, going to help them run it. It says in the article that she went through rehab and got off the pills. Blaine’s quoted as saying, ‘Sure, we met in a brothel but when you find the right person I don’t think it matters about the location. Or the gender
295
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 296
leighredhead for that matter. Man, woman, transgender, hell, I would have fallen for Lulu even if she’d been a two headed space alien from Mars.’ Romantic, huh? They didn’t even ask for payment for their story (!) but Veronica was demanding a hundred grand an interview. The media has kind of turned on her a bit, and her latest album flopped. She’s just released a new single and they’ve totally sexed up her image. Long blonde hair extensions, barely there outfits and I think she might have had a boob job! Chloe and me saw her new video the other day and almost pissed ourselves. In it she’s lap dancing and spinning around a pole! Billy’s record company released a ‘best of’ compilation and it’s racing up the charts. I guess they say any publicity… I don’t think you ever met Hannah but I told you about her. Well Neville had to sell the GT Club, lost his brothel licence and needed some quick cash so he sold it cheap, and Hannah bought it! She renovated and has just opened up Melbourne’s first legal rub and tug joint that has absolutely no extras. Apparently she’s got this waiting list of girls wanting to work there and it’s going great guns. Really busy. I spent a week up at my mum’s in Sydney too. She saw all the shit in the newspaper and absolutely freaked so I had to go stay and reassure her I was okay. She always had a bit of a problem with me stripping, didn’t really square with her old-school feminist thing, so I said, well aren’t you glad I’m not doing it anymore? And isn’t it, like, totally go-the-sisterhood to have a woman doing a job traditionally dominated by men? She didn’t quite see it my way. Still, she cooked me lots of nice food and I drank most of her wine. Remind me never to stop drinking for two weeks again. I almost lost my mind. What do you drink over there? Do they have that special whisky or is that just Thailand? I’m much better now, everything’s healed up except I have a small scar like an appendix one on my left side and a larger one on
296
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 297
rubdown my collarbone. I think they’re kind of sexy though. Wish you were here to run your tongue along them. Wish you were here to run your tongue along a lot of things… Damn, gone and got myself all het up now. Better go and sort myself out, if you know what I mean. I miss you. Love, Simone xxx
The next time I saw Alex was after Emery Wade’s committal hearing. He was standing on the steps at the Magistrates Court, looking rather suave in his work suit and long wool coat. His thick black hair was pushed back from his forehead and his eyes were dark brown and clear.We hugged and I got a shiver when I smelled that woody aftershave. Here I was, pining for Sean, and I still had the hots for his best friend.Was there something congenitally wrong with me? ‘How’s fraud?’ I asked. ‘Classified,’ he said. But he wasn’t stern, just teasing. We stared at each other for a while, half smiling. I had my arms crossed. Alex’s hands were thrust deep into his coat pockets and he rocked slightly on the balls of his feet. Lawyers in black robes rushed past and defendants in ill-fitting suits hung around chain-smoking. I could have sworn he was giving me The Look so I touched his arm and said, ‘Want to go out for a drink sometime?’ He glanced over my shoulder and his expression changed. I turned to see Suzy hurrying up the steps and removed my hand, and bent slightly at the knees, steeling myself for a bitchfight. Suzy shook her head and smiled beatifically.‘Oh, Simone, I’m not going to hit you.’ 297
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 298
leighredhead
I eyed her off, still tensed up. ‘I’m on the wagon now. AA. And as part of the program we have to apologise to people we hurt while we were drinking. I am so sorry, Simone. For accusing you of being after Alex, for hitting you. I hope you can forgive me.’ ‘Uh, yeah, sure,’ I said, and she hugged me. A long one, with lots of back rubbing. I just stood there like a stunned mullet, not quite sure what to do with my hands. I shot Alex a look but he was staring at his feet. Suzy disengaged herself from me and wrapped her arm around Alex’s waist. She had the glassy eyes and inane smile of a recently born again Christian. ‘Did Alex tell you?’ she said. ‘Tell me what?’ Suzy thrust her right hand out and wiggled her fingers. Something caught the light and glittered. ‘We’re engaged. Alex asked me to marry him.’
Later that afternoon I met Tony at the Public Bar in North Melbourne. I was itching to get back to work but as soon as I saw him over by the window nursing a beer I knew something was wrong. I ordered a double Jameson’s, cadged a fag off an old dude at the bar and headed over. ‘What’s wrong?’ I sat down. He stopped tracing lines in the condensation on the glass and looked up at me. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, and it’s no reflection on your investigative abilities or our friendship, but I’m going to have to let you go.’ ‘Why?’ I asked, although I already knew. ‘Last year we made an agreement that you could have the job if you stayed out of trouble.’ 298
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 299
rubdown
‘I tried.’ ‘I know you did. But look at all this.’ He pulled a stack of newspaper clippings from his briefcase. All mentioned my name, a referred to Tony and most displayed my photograph, the one in the sparkly red bikini.‘You know that in this biz anonymity’s your greatest asset. I’ve already lost two corporate clients.’ I stayed silent, sipping my whisky and smoking. Tony said, ‘You’re a risk taker and I worry about you when I should be worrying about my clients.’ He took a card from his wallet and slid it across the table. Beechworth Security and Investigations.‘They’re looking for people. Mainly insurance stuff. Boring, but it’s safe and there’s regular work. And I’ll always be here if you need me.’ I stubbed out the cigarette and finished my drink. I stood up and so did Tony. When I rounded the table and hugged him he looked embarrassed. ‘Thanks for everything,’ I said.
Outside the winter afternoon had turned sunny and I tied my denim jacket around my waist. I walked through the Queen Victoria Markets, past stalls that sold luggage and leather belts and through the fresh produce section where lettuce leaves littered the floor and men called out specials on cauliflower. By the time I’d reached the Futura in the market car park I’d made up my mind. I sat behind the wheel and called Chloe. ‘Hey, mate, what’s up?’ she asked. ‘I need cash and I need it fast. Sign me up for any show, any time. The more the better.’ ‘You in some kind of trouble?’ ‘No, I’m going to open my own detective agency.’ 299
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 300
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 301
acknowledgements
Thanks to my family: Anthony Larsen, Thea Woznitza, Tony Redhead, Kelly Burke, Jesse, Kate, Jasmine and Julian Redhead, Jean and Stella O’Connell. My friends and people who helped out with research: Jemina Napier, Andy Carmichael, Donna Shoebridge, Juliet Lamont, Dorothy Mozejko, Billy Treller, Donna Butler, Helena Bond, Lucy, Carl Donadio, Phillip Barravecchio (sorry for nicking your name), Katherine Brandenburger, Andy Russell, Myles King and Paul Connor. Carmel Shute and all the wonderful Sisters in Crime. The Northern Rivers Writers Centre. Varuna — The Writers House and everyone I met there: Peter Bishop, Mark Macleod, Sheila, Katherine Howell, Alice Nelson, Paola Bilbrough, Angela Schoen. 301
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 302
leighredhead
Everyone at Allen & Unwin, in particular Annette Barlow, Christa Munns, Catherine Milne, Stephanie Whitelock and Andrew Hawkins. And Jo Jarrah, editor. Andrew Rule and John Silvester. Trish and Annie from the Greyhound Hotel, the guys from Spyquipworld and the friendly staff at Daily Planet and Southern Comfort. Doug Mansfield and the Dust Devils: Doug Mansfield, Jack Coleman, Bruce Kane, Gerard Rowan, Nick Del Ray. The Re-Mains: Mick Daley, Leigh Ivin, Shaun Butcher, Mick Ward, Sam Martin, Johnny Harris. Lyrics from ‘Trouble Follows Me’ are reproduced with permission from Doug Mansfield and lyrics from ‘Sick Sister’ are reproduced with permission from Mick Daley.
302
Final Pages 22/6/05
27/7/05
9:52 AM
Page 303
NOW READ THE FIRST BOOK IN THE SERIES PEEPSHOW Leigh Redhead ‘With Peepshow, Redhead announces herself as the bright new kid on the crime block.’ —Sydney Morning Herald Simone Kirsch aka Vivien Leigh is sexy, funny and intelligent. After graduating top of her private investigators course and working in a peepshow, Simone has a few tricks up her sleeve … and she’s never been afraid of getting herself into sticky situations. But now she’s tangling with the city’s most corrupt cop, some crazy strippers and a rockabilly band called Las Vegas Grind. A criminally witty romp on the sexy side of the mean streets. ISBN 1 86508 637 1
