Care Factor Zero (12 page)

Kaz stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped round her head. Larceny blinked. Where was she? Who was this weirdo wearing a pink turban?

Then she remembered where she was and sat bolt upright.

‘I meant to get up early.’

‘What for?’

‘I dunno. I thought I could make you some toast or something.’

Larceny felt confused. She seldom ever offered to do anything for anyone. Even making the fettucine the night before had been a rare occurrence. Maybe Kaz had sprayed the walls with weird drugs that made a person feel comfy and eager to please. Or maybe it was just Kaz.

She swung her legs out of bed.

‘Oh, hell,’ said Kaz. ‘You’re wearing your t-shirt. I never thought to get you a nightie or PJs. Hang on, I’ll get you a dressing gown. You can try wearing Diana’s slippers but she’s got feet like kayaks. They’ll probably fall off your feet.’

Kaz disappeared and came back with an old faded blue chenille robe that had seen better days.

‘Here you go. It’s practically an antique but it’s clean.’

Breakfast was stewed apples, toast with Vegemite or honey, and coffee.

‘I’d like you to come with me, Larce. I’ve got a
couple of kids who are in deep shit, and I think you could help them,’ Kaz said as she drained the last of her coffee.

‘Me? Help someone? Get real, Kaz, I can’t even get my own shit together.’

‘You’ll be surprised how useful you’ll be. Trust me!’

Larceny ran down the road, her tote bag banging wildly against her hip. Ducking down an alley she weaved along the narrow one-way thoroughfare before bursting onto another main road. Cars zoomed past, their drivers in a hurry to get to work before the peak hour slowed them to a snail’s pace. Her lungs bursting, screaming for air, she panted to stop, heaving in great gulps of misting morning smog.

‘Trust me,’ Kaz had said.

They’d got to the office, only been there minutes, when two cops had arrived, a male and a female. Kaz had done a great acting job feigning surprise: she could’ve won an Oscar she was so convincing. The babe from Peer Ed in the grey blanket thing had stood there smirking like a fat slimy slug.

‘Are you Larceny Leyton?’ the female cop had asked.

Larceny had been too choked up with shock, betrayal and anguish to answer. She’d just stared at Kaz with bleak hatred.

‘I didn’t have anything to do with this,’ Kaz had argued, as the other cop took out his notebook. ‘You only have to give them your name and address. You have rights, Larce.’

‘Address? Should I give them
yours
?’ Larceny had spat, her eyes flashing with rage. She’d begun to tremble, she was so angry at herself for getting conned. To trust Kaz and get kicked in the teeth yet again. It was too much. With a savage cry she’d swept her arm across Kaz’s desk, knocking the phone and papers flying before whirling for the door.

‘Get her,’ yelled the cop with the notebook.

The female cop had lunged after her but when Larceny was scared she was as slippery as an eel. She twisted out of reach and pounded out the door, her long legs carrying her rapidly down the street. She could hear Kaz shouting at the cops and shouting for her to come back but it was all mixed up. She’d done what she’d always done when there was trouble with the law — run like hell.

A black shiny car pulled alongside.

‘Are you all right?’ asked this middle-aged guy in a business suit, winding down his window.

‘Something bad’s happened. I have to get to my mum,’ lied Larceny.

‘Should I call the police? I’ve got my mobile.’

‘No. If I could just get a ride to the city —’

She climbed into the front seat and he pulled smoothly back into the traffic. He had his radio tuned to some classical music station. She hoped the cops didn’t broadcast an APB.

‘What happened? Did someone hurt you?’ asked the man, driving fast towards the city. Larceny wished he’d slow down. It’d be just her lousy luck for him to be pulled over for speeding.

‘My stepdad. He … well … you know … he …’

Larceny pretended to burst into tears. She was brilliant at spinning shit. She’d been doing it for years.

‘Are you sure you don’t want the police?’

‘No. I want my mum.’

‘Where’s her office, dear?’

‘In Flinders Street, near the station.’

‘All right, we’ll be there soon.’

His idea of soon and Larceny’s idea of soon were
light-years apart. All she wanted to do was jump on the first train to some remote country town. No, wait. She’d be better back in the city: she’d be harder to find, then. Get some black hair dye, visit the ladies — no one would be looking for a girl with
short
black hair, cause she’d buy some scissors and hack it off. Get rid of the jacket, nick something less obvious. Junk the tote bag. Pity it was her lucky bag. But then maybe it was
un
lucky. It’d never brought her good fortune, had it? There were real advantages in having a high IQ.
Real
advantages.

He turned into St Kilda Road: the traffic was creeping along like a giant slug.

She had never found out where Kaz lived, didn’t even know the suburb. Pity. It would take her a while to find it. She needed to do it because one day she’d go back there and rip the place apart. Pull all those dumb sayings off the wall, smash the crystals, burn the feathers, grind her heels into those wolves, shred that dumb doona into tiny pieces and hack all the rose bushes off at the roots.

The man was talking to her and she hadn’t been listening.

‘Sorry. What did you say?’

‘I’ll park the car and come with you,’ he was saying.

That’s what
you
reckon, she thought. The traffic moved then stopped again.

‘Thanks for the ride, mister.’

She wrenched open the car door and was out onto the road, running down the footpath and round a corner. She’d double back when she thought it was safe. He’d be stuck in the traffic, could only turn left. She’d be back onto St Kilda Road before he had time to go round the block. She’d cross over the road, He had no hope of seeing her with four lanes of traffic as a shield.

Fear and anger always gave her extra energy. She was Larceny Leyton.
She
could conquer the world. She sped back onto St Kilda Road, catching the lights near the Shrine. Maybe she could hide in there? No, best back at the station, get a train to the suburbs, disappear for a while. The crafty feral was taking over, planning and plotting. A high IQ and native cunning: she’d beat them all yet.

She slowed to a walk. Running attracted too much attention unless you were dressed for it, and she wasn’t. She reached the bridge and crossed back over with the lights.

Flinders Street station
was
home. It smelt safe and secure. The smell of the sweat, grease and grime of
human bodies, engines, food and machines were far sweeter to her nostrils than the traitorous scent of roses.

She found her familiar spot against the wall and paused to get her breath. Looking at her watch she saw that it was ten to nine. Good. The shops would be open then, and she could nick the scissors and the hair dye, and —

‘Well, well, well. We meet again!’

Her blood froze. She knew that voice. Nick Farino.

She looked up defiantly. His shrewd eyes took in her blotchy, tear-stained face and drawn, haunted expression. He smiled to himself. He had her where he wanted her, vulnerable and helpless. She was a wild one all right. He’d followed her progress as she’d rampaged about causing chaos and confusion. She had half the cops in the city chasing their tails. He had unfinished business with her. And future plans.

‘Let’s go.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’

‘Oh yes you are, or I’ll turn you over to the cops and they’ll lock you up in Ararat Prison. The criminally insane section. How would you like a life behind bars with a lot of gabbling, demented fools?’

‘You’re bluffing. I’m too young.’

‘Who’s going to defend you? They can do what they like. Who’d miss you? They could stamp DEAD on your records and how would anyone ever find out that you’re still alive? Who would
want
to? You’re mad. Insane. A killer.’

Larceny sagged against him as he propelled her through the exit and down the steps. As before, his car was round the corner. How had he known she’d show up? He bundled her unresisting body in and shut the door.

‘My bag!’

She’d left it back in the station.

‘You won’t need it.’

He shot away from the kerb down Flinders Street, turning left into Kings Way and round the block, getting straight onto St Kilda Road on the green light. Smoothly he drove up Domain Road and into Park Street. It was no use trying to jump out: he had his hand on the power switch for the door locks. And if she did, where would she go? There was no place to run.

They reached his apartment building and he slid the car into his space.

‘Pity the cops didn’t get you at that youth work place as instructed and bring you straight here,’ he
said as they went up to the third floor. ‘I guessed you’d head for the station. You’re a nuisance: I had to leave my breakfast.’

‘You — the cops —’

‘Money can buy all sorts of things.’

‘Kaz?’

‘Who the hell’s Kaz? Oh, you mean that dumpy little youth worker who looks like an Indian squaw? She knew nothing. The other one, what was her name, Lisa or Eliza or something, she busted you. If you didn’t go round upsetting people so much you wouldn’t get into trouble, would you?’

She faced him squarely. ‘What the hell do you want with me? If you make me go with men I’ll bite their dicks off. You can’t make me!’

‘No, there’s a few other interesting issues to discuss. Come on.’

He dragged her through his door, along the hallway and into the kitchen.

‘You’ve interrupted my breakfast so you may as well wait till I’ve finished.’

He pushed her down onto one of the chairs.

‘Don’t move or I’ll tie you up.’

Larceny blanched. She hated to be touched, but even more she hated to be tied up. Once one of her
foster fathers had roped her to a chair for hours till her arms cramped and she’d peed her pants. She couldn’t remember which one. But how did Nick Farino know she was petrified of being tied up? Or was it a lucky guess?

He reheated his coffee in the microwave, and then came back and sat opposite her, gazing at her with a curious expression.

‘Yes. You’ll make a good model. Young, fresh, virginal, yet wild as a tiger.’

‘Model?’

‘For my girlie mag. Tasteful nude shots.’

‘You can jump off a rock,’ yelled Larceny. ‘I’d rather be dead and buried than pose nude for you.’

‘I do like your spirit,’ he said. ‘Pity you’re mad.’

He was taunting her. Teasing her. With cold certainty Larceny realised that he knew something about her …

‘It must’ve come from your mother’s side,’ he said. ‘She was always too fond of dope and LSD. Maybe you were affected in the womb?’

‘What?’

‘Your mother. I knew her. Very well.’

‘You knew my mother?’

Larceny’s eyes were round in her face as she stared
at the man across the table.

‘Tess De Ville.’

‘That wasn’t
my
mother. She was Tess Townsville.’

‘Her stepfather’s name. She
was
Tess De Ville.’

French! De Ville was French! Maybe that schizo Sir Harold had been right after all? Maybe she was really related to a count and a countess and was really a fabulously wealthy heiress? Maybe …

‘As I said, I knew her very well.
Intimately
!’

‘Oh, yeah? Prove it.’

‘And I knew your father, Danny Leyton. Sorry, your stepfather. He was a mate of mine. But he should’ve paid more attention to your mother, shouldn’t he? She liked a good time.’

‘Stepfather? Danny’s my dad!’

‘Wrong.’

He rubbed his hands together and smiled, but his eyes were hard and shrewd. ‘I’m your father!’

‘What?’

She stared at him in horror. Then she started to laugh. ‘
You’re
the one who’s psycho. You must’ve been choofing too much of your own wacky backy or shooting up too much whiz. You can’t be my father. I’ve already got a father. Danny.’

‘It’s the truth. I’m your
father
.’

‘This has got to be some sick kind of joke. All this stuff about girlie mags, posing nude and now this father thing. We’re on
Hidden Camera
, right?’

She jumped to her feet, whirling round the room, her red hair flying out round her face like a living flame, pulling faces, poking her tongue out and rolling her eyes up into her head.

‘Stop it.’ His voice was cuttingly cold.

‘You reckon
I’m
mad,’ she panted as she backed against the sliding glass door. ‘Compared to you I’m sane. You’re a total lunatic!’

‘Insanity is said to run in families. But you didn’t inherit your madness from my family, hon. The Farinos are all perfectly sane. I am perfectly sane!’

Larceny felt her skin crawl. He couldn’t be her father. How could anyone’s father want them to be a prostitute? Or pose naked for magazines? He was evil. She felt for the handle of the door. She had to get out. Scream for help.

‘You don’t believe I’m your father? Look at your skin.’

‘That’s nothing. Heaps of people have dark skin.’

‘Take your shoes off.’

‘What?’

‘Take them
off
.’

He was already taking off his own shoes. Numbly
Larceny bent down to do what he said, her mind swirling as the grey mist started to close in, dizzying in its insidiousness.

‘See?’

He stood up and walked round to her. She stared at his bare feet, with the little toes curling up, longer than their neighbours. Her head swam.

‘We even have the same toes, dearest daughter,’ he said softly.

‘
I am not your daughter. You are not my father. You are a maniac
!’

She flung back the sliding glass door with a crash. He stood there chuckling softly as she backed up against the balcony railing.

‘Come near me and I’ll kill you,’ she shrieked as the voices started their chant.

‘Kill. Kill.’

She clutched her head as the anger exploded.

‘I’ll kill you!’

‘I don’t think so. You couldn’t kill your own father!’

She stared at him in terror. His eyes were so cold. Danny was a drunk, a hopelessly weak wreck of a man, but he was far better than this maniac claiming to be her father! Nick smiled. He was enjoying every moment.

‘It’s not true!’ she cried, as the mist suddenly cleared and the voices faded from her head. ‘Tell me you’re joking. It’s not true!’

‘It’s true. I’ve followed your progress out of curiosity. I never wanted a kid. Fatherhood wasn’t part of my plan, but it’s been interesting to see you fight back.’

He came towards her. He held out his hands, palms up. ‘See? We’ve even got the same shaped hands.’

She heaved herself up onto the railing. ‘Stay away from me. I’ll jump!’

‘I hear that every day,’ he smirked. ‘People owing me rent. Girls wanting to get out of the game.
My
game. I take care of them, don’t I? Come here, Larceny Farino. I’m going to take care of you. You won’t jump. But then you
are
your mother’s daughter.’

He smiled. She looked at him and saw the cruelty in his eyes. There was no escape. All the countless numbers of shrinks, pills, injections weren’t as bad as
this
. Her head spun, but her thoughts were chillingly clear. And sane.