The Dark Horde (16 page)

Douglas turned to Brian. “Actually we were discussing the job, something I have much to talk to you about.”

Brian looked at Robert watching from the hallway. “And Robert, what are you doing apart from excavating your anus?”

Annette winced. Douglas turned to look at Robert who blushed and dipped his head.

Robert looked up. “I was just–”

A phone began to ring from one of the offices.

Robert continued his sentence, “about to go answer that phone.”

Annette huffed and looked at Brian. “And so, Mr Efficiency – why are
you
late?”

Brian turned to Annette, glaring at her through his eyebrows. “Some of us have work to do. I would think that includes you.”

Douglas interrupted, easing the tension, “Is there any more news on your meeting with Dr Dawson?”

Annette stormed off to the kitchen whilst Brian answered Douglas, “Not since I phoned you late yesterday. The discussion I had with Dr Dawson was helpful in terms of understanding the crime but not solving it.”

“Do you have a hard copy of his brief with you?”

Brian smiled. “Of course.”

At that moment, Brian and Douglas were rejoined by Robert. The pair paused to look at him.

“Just letting you know Brian, I’ve got Sasha on the phone,” Robert said.

“Tell her I’m not here yet. I’ll call her when I get a moment.”

Robert wrung his hands nervously. “Ahhh, I’ve already told her that you’d just arrived.”

“Fuck, that’s all I need.” Brian sighed. His eyes fixed Robert like daggers. “I’ll talk to you about this later.”

Brian brushed past them both as he headed for his office. Douglas raised his eyebrows to Robert.

“Where the hell have you been?” was the first thing Sasha said.

“Busy,” Brian replied. “I was about to call you, but I got sidetracked. I only just got here.”

“From where? I thought you were coming home last night.”

“From Melbourne. I stayed overnight at my parents’ house. I had a few things to take care of.”

“Well, you could have at least called to let me know where you were. I’ve hardly slept worrying about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you were sorry you would have called.”

Brian said nothing.

“Anyway, Julie wants you to mind Samantha and Howard tonight. Apparently she’s got some dinner party.”

“But she didn’t think to ask whether I was free tonight, did she?”

“If I had any idea what you
were
doing, I might have been able to tell her, mightn’t I?”

Brian hesitated to respond before saying, “Well, I’ll call her anyway, sort something out.”

“So what
are
you doing tonight?”

“Looks like I’m minding the kids, doesn’t it?”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight then. We’ll get pizza, as I can’t be bothered cooking.” She hung up before he could answer.

“Yeah, love you too,” he said as he put the phone down.

Brian looked up to see Douglas waiting outside his office.

“Can you spare a few minutes?” Douglas said.

Brian nodded with a sigh.

Douglas gently closed the door behind him and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Brian leaned back on his chair and produced a fake smile. “Sure! My partner and ex-wife are both pissed at me. I’m running around like a headless chook trying to track down a killer loose on the town, whilst simultaneously trying to manage this department and keep the fucking media happy without telling them anything that might alarm the population more than they already are. And to top it off, I’ve got a migraine that refuses to leave me the fuck alone.”

And that’s not even the half of it.

“Things are just dandy!” Brian said.

Douglas sat in a chair facing Brian’s cluttered desk. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be a sarcastic prick sometimes?”

“Nah, never.”

Douglas took a deep breath...

Whatever did Julie see in you?

Douglas checked his watch. “Anyway, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

They were interrupted by the phone ringing on Brian’s desk.

Brian hesitated. “Er, that’s probably Dr Dawson now. He said he’d call about this time.”

“I see.”

Brian rose from his chair and stepped over to the door. Opening it, he proclaimed, “I’ll come and see you shortly and we can go through the details then. There may be more to add after this phone call. Is that okay?”

Douglas nodded solemnly as Brian ushered him out.

“Don’t worry, Douglas, your time will come.”

Brian rushed back to the phone.

Douglas’ unheard response was ominous, “So will yours, Brian.”

“Senior Sergeant Derwent speaking.”

“Ohhh finally! I’ve been trying to contact you since Sunday!”

“Oh hi, Julie. I was just about to call you.”

“You always say that, Brian! Maybe Sasha believes you when you say that, but I don’t.”

“I–”

“I don’t care what your excuse is, Brian. I’m just calling to tell you that I’ll be dropping off Sam and Howard tonight around five thirty.”

There was no point in arguing.

“Fine.”

“I know it’s fine. I’ve already organised it with Sasha. At least
she’s
reliable. Which is surprising considering her age.”

Don’t get me started. If you weren’t such a bitch, maybe we’d still be together.

“So was that all then?”

“Yes, I’ll be picking them up tomorrow after school.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t give them McDonalds. I go to the trouble of cooking healthy meals for them every night, so the least you can do is the same.”

Nah, just Pizza Hut.

“Yep,” he answered.

“Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed.

Brian cast his gaze over papers strewn across his desk and began to arrange them into sensible piles.

Then the phone rang again...

“Hello, my name is Samuel Cartwright. I’m a reporter at National Nine News.”

Oh fuck, here we go.

“I understand that you’re the police officer in charge of the Howqua Hills Station?’

“Yes.”

“And that you’re involved in the investigation of the Weston murders?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Is now convenient for you to answer a few questions regarding what you know about the incident?”

“Not really.”

“Perhaps we can arrange for a better time? Ideally I’d like to come and speak to you in person.”

“Look, can I call you back? I’m really busy right now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good.” Brian hung up before he could continue.

Almost immediately, the phone rang again.

“Um, it’s Samuel Cartwright calling back. Sorry to trouble you again sir–”

“What is it?”

“Ah, I didn’t get a chance to give you a number to contact me on.”

“Fine. What is it then?”

Brian let him recite the number he had no intention of writing down. They’d contact again anyway.

“Okay, thanks.” He hung up.

The phone rang again.

I don’t believe this shit.

“What now?”

“Er, is that Sergeant Brian Derwent? It’s Dr David Dawson here.”

“Oh, sorry David! I thought it was this pesky reporter who keeps holding up the line.”

“Yes, I did try a couple of times just before and your line was busy. You didn’t divulge anything of note, I trust?”

“Of course not.”

“I mean I knew that you wouldn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

“We’re all on the same side here, David. Protecting the public interest.”

David laughed. “So how are things back at the office anyway?”

“It’s been one bloody thing after another.”

“Yes, I can imagine.”

I doubt it.

“Anyway Brian, I’ll be brief as I’m sure you’re very busy–”

“You got that right.”

“I need to see you again, quite urgently I’m afraid. Some more information has come to light that I need to discuss with you in person as soon as possible. I.e. today.”

Brian ran a hand through his hair. “Can’t we discuss this over the phone?”

“It’s not secure. I have reason to believe that your phone could already be being monitored.”

“What?”

“Look Brian, you really must get down here as soon as possible. I wouldn’t even tell anyone that you’re coming down. Something is going on that I don’t understand. I fear that you’re the only one who can help.”

Fucking great.

Brian sighed. “Okay, I’ll get down there as soon as I can.”

“How soon?”

“Um, I’ve got a few things to sort out here first, which will take a couple of hours. So let’s say I’ll come meet you for about three pm?”

“That’ll have to do, I guess.”

“Yes, it will.”

“We’ll see you then, Brian. Be careful.”

What was
that
supposed to mean?

“Okay, David. See you then.”

Brian hung up and collapsed back into his chair.

I should have stayed in Melbourne. At least down there I was away from all this shit... And I got a decent night’s sleep.

Now I’ll have to contact Sasha and Julie again to tell them plans had changed.

Fuck it, I’m going for a coffee and a ciggie first.

Brian rose and staggered out of his office. As he was leaving, his phone began ringing again.

Let them call back if it’s important.

Brian headed for the carpark round the back, the refuge of smokers in this modern era of the smoke-free workplace.

Douglas, not far away, heard Brian’s phone ringing.

This time, he answered it.

TUESDAY 10:21
AM

It was morning recess and the boys of Unit H had gathered to watch the table tennis game between Alex Norton, ranked third on the Unit ladder, and Bruce Power, currently undefeated. Bill Tramly, impersonating Gibbo of the
Wired World of Sports
send-up, was commentating with a canister of spray-on deodorant as a microphone prop. The score stood at 18 to 3 in Bruce’s favour and Alex now saw why Didge, ranked second, refused to play Bruce.

“Shut up, Bill,” Alex said. “I need to concentrate.”

Bill and the rest of the gallery fell silent, watching, waiting... All except for Danny, who sat at his desk in the corner, unnoticed.

Bruce licked his lips and raised the ping-pong ball in preparation to serve. Alex was poised for reaction on the other side of the table, bat in his right hand, eyes fixed on the white globe in Bruce’s fingertips.

Bruce tossed the ball and cut it with his bat as it came down. The ball launched across the net, landed short and spun sharply sideways away from Alex’s left.

Alex lunged across, barely managing to get a backhand to the elusive target, and sent it back high over the net.

Grinning, Bruce smashed the ball down from its trajectory. It ricocheted off the table and at Alex’s face.

Alex ducked instinctively and the ball crashed into the bookcase atop one of the desks behind him, bouncing back again almost as far as the table tennis table.

“19 – 3,” Bruce announced.

“Spectacular action!” Bill added.

“I said shut up, Bill!” Alex raised his bat in threat.

Bill went deadpan long enough for Alex to turn back to the game, and pulled a mocking face at Alex as soon as he looked away.

The audience muttered before lapsing into quiet ahead of Bruce’s next serve. Bill exchanged smiles with some of them.

Bruce hit the ball gently over the net to Alex, teasing him with an easy return shot.

Alex gritted his teeth and smacked back the ball with heavy top spin at the right corner of Bruce’s half, nearest the net.

Bruce reached past the table’s corner and lobbed the ball back, teasing once more.

Alex grunted as he bashed the ball to Bruce’s left, spinning the ball wide and trying to set up the point.

Bruce leapt around the table and returned the ball at full stretch. The crowd gasped.

The shot was deep and directly at Alex. Too quick for him, he could only fend the ball away. Horrified, he watched the ball sail back high over the net...

Bruce feigned another smash at the ball, then changed his angle at the last moment and tapped the ball over the net.

Alex, bracing for the smash, had backed away from the table. Too late, he saw the ball fall short. He flung his bat across the table in a desperate attempt to hit the ball before it bounced twice and somehow return it, but the bat missed and the point was lost.

“20 – 3,” Bruce said laughing.

“By gee, by jingo, by crikey, it’s match point!” hollered Bill.

“I fuckin’ told you to shut up, Bill!” said Alex.

“Oooooo... He’s gettin’ cut!” Scuza said from the sidelines. Others joined him in laughter.

Alex sighed and shook his head, before returning his attention to the game. Bill was poised with microphone in hand to call the end of the match.

Bruce licked his lips again and served, curving the ball through the air at Alex.

Alex swatted the ball before it landed, but a moment later it was back on his side, curving the opposite way and forcing him across court.

Teeth clenched, he smashed the ball at the far corner, but again and again the ball returned as again and again he smashed it back. Bruce played each shot with robotic perfection.

“Man, what a rally!” cried Robbo.

Alex continued the onslaught, as Bruce’s returns became less ambitious, weaker. Alex began to smile.

Then Bruce clipped the net and the ball rolled down onto Alex’s side: an impossible shot to recover.

“I win,” Bruce said.

Bill leapt to the fore. “And that is game, set and match, folks! Fabulous stuff! We hope you’ve enjoyed this exclusive coverage of this fantastic match where once again Alex I-need-to-concentrate-even-though-I’m-shit Norton is defeated by the
reigning champion
Bruce the-machine Power!”

Robbo updated the leaderboard with yet another victory to Bruce, whilst others congratulated Bruce or laughed at Bill’s antics. Danny, bent over his desk, didn’t raise his head.

Bill dashed to Alex. “We now cross live to Alex Norton for comments on his defeat.” He shoved the mock microphone into Alex’s face.