Blood Ties (58 page)

The sirens grew closer. Al, glancing around him in panic, realised the futility of trying to recapture me and focussed on escaping instead. He jumped into the idling car and drove towards the exit, not even stopping to shut the driver’s door or to wait for his brother and cousins. Red, enraged by the sight of that disloyalty, shot off a bullet with surprising accuracy for him, hitting Al in the arm. Al howled in pain and the car swerved dangerously, collecting Karl as it did, flinging him over the bonnet. Karl landed awkwardly on the bitumen and we all cringed when we heard the crunch of something breaking. Judging by the way he was lying on the ground, curled into a ball, screaming in agony, his leg sticking out at an odd angle, that something was Karl’s leg.

The car kept swerving before it smashed into what could only be the judge’s silver Mercedes.

Grae decided to cut his losses and made a run for it in the opposite direction. The Sarge pounded after him.

Red pulled a screaming Al from the car and threw him to the bitumen, jumping into the car himself, slamming the door. He reversed hard, almost running over his own injured brother as he did, and sped towards the carpark exit.

I made the mistake of standing up then and Red fired the rest of the clip in my direction, forcing me to hit the ground again hastily. He threw the gun at me once it was empty. The last I saw of him was the car speeding through a red light, forcing a late model Nissan Patrol to veer wildly to avoid a collision with him and jump the curb, smashing into a small brick fence.

The Inspector and Bum raced out to cover Al and Karl, just in time for the backups to arrive. Fiona handed over to a couple of uniforms and sought me out where I was huddled on the bitumen, leaning up against a car, giving thanks to every deity I could name that I was still breathing after that madness. She hauled me to my feet, freed me from the handcuffs and hugged me fiercely.

“Jesus, Tessie! I thought we’d fucking lost you that time for good. Christ! Fuck! Look at me. I’m a fucking blubbering mess. Have you got a tissue on you?”

I dug in my pockets and found one for her. She quickly mopped her eyes dry of their lightly damp mist, not even enough moisture to form one full teardrop, her back to everyone else as she did.

Geez, I could teach her how to cry properly
, I thought in amusement. A few moments later she was as dry-eyed and hard-faced as normal. As for me, for some inexplicable reason I felt like laughing, but I was afraid that if I started I might never stop. I probably needed some counselling after today, but I knew I wouldn’t seek any. I hadn’t ever before.

We walked back to the action. A couple of the uniforms had headed over to the distraught and tearful soccer mum who’d been driving the now-damaged Patrol, worrying about what her husband was going to say; two patrol cars had sped off after Red, lights flashing and sirens blaring; Al and Karl were being given some first aid before the paramedics arrived and the Sarge was dragging a struggling Grae back towards one of the remaining patrol cars.

“All’s well that ends well, ma’am,” I said light-heartedly, then without any warning, turned and threw up over the front tyre of the judge’s smashed Mercedes.

“Aw, fucking hell, Tess! You spewed on my shoes,” she grumbled, looking down at her expensive Italian leather before dragging me away from the mess.

“Sorry ma’am. That took me by surprise,” I admitted, embarrassed, wiping my mouth on another tissue. I was weak and trembling after all of that. I needed to sit down.

“I guess anyone would want to chuck after having Red Bycraft licking you and biting you and feeling up your tit in public.”

Queasiness rolled over me again. She called for one of the uniforms to go find my gun and he dutifully hunted it down and returned it to me.

When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics gave me the once over. They patched up the wound on my neck that Red had caused with his knife and repatched my knees that were weeping through the bandages after I had abused them so much. I waved them away after that because I already had so many bruises, bumps and cuts that the few extra I’d received today were hardly worth bothering about. They recommended that I take some of the strong painkillers that Dr Fenn had given me the other day as soon as possible. I assured them that was the first thing I planned on doing when I arrived home.

Exhausted and drained of all emotion, I leaned against the brick wall of the courthouse, closing my eyes. A gentle hand on my shoulder made my eyes fly open in alarm, my hand reaching for my empty gun. It was only the Sarge.

“Hey, Tess.”

“Hey, Sarge,” I said tiredly, body relaxing again.

“You okay?” He smiled as he said it to let me know he was joking.

“I’ll live,” I replied, a faint grimace the best expression I could muster.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to the station. You don’t need to hang around here. Everything’s under control and you’ve done enough for one day.”

We received Fiona’s approval to scarper and he drove me back to the station.

I was subdued. “Red Bycraft escaped. I hope we find him soon, otherwise I’ll be looking over my shoulder all the time.”

He responded with certainty. “They’ll find him.”

I wished I shared his confidence. I leaned against the headrest, trying to find a comfortable position to accommodate my new neck wound.
Oh, forget it
, I told myself. There were no comfortable positions for me.

I pondered out loud. “How did Red get the knives? I know they’re slack around here compared to the city, but surely the
prisoners
are searched before going into court at least?”

We both puzzled over that until the Sarge realised that there had probably been more than simple affection being transferred from Lola to Red when she’d hugged him so tightly and whispered into his ear. She’d obviously been pushing a knife up each of his sleeves. And it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to smuggle the knives in – the Big Town courthouse wasn’t the most vigilant in the state about security for the public.

“What a day,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

He suddenly wrenched the steering wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road, jumping out without any explanation. He strode into a small corner store. He wasn’t gone long and when he returned he threw a packet of Tim Tams onto my lap and rejoined the traffic flow, without saying a word.

I was touched by the small gesture. He was proving himself to be a thoughtful man in a lot of ways.

“Thank you, Sarge,” I said gratefully. “That’s so . . . so nice. Thank you.” I wanted to rip the packet open and stuff three of the delicious biscuits in my mouth again, but I forced myself to have the patience of a saint so I could savour them slowly back at the station. I clutched them possessively for the rest of the way.

Back at the watch house, I was trying to sneak my precious Tim Tams to the kitchen when the eagle-eyed Senior Sergeant waylaid me.

“What do you have there, Tessie? Looks like some Tim Tams.”

Caught out, I glanced back at the Sarge and reluctantly laid the packet on the counter in front of Daisy. “A present from the Sarge,” I told her. She flashed him a quick smile and snatched the Tim Tams, slipping them under the counter.

“I knew we’d finally get a gentleman here if we all prayed hard enough. Thank you, Sergeant Maguire.”

“I actually bought them for Tess, but you’re welcome, Senior Sergeant,” he said, slightly acidic.

I liked the way he wasn’t afraid to speak up for himself, even though he was the new guy and didn’t yet have a firm grasp on the local personalities and politics. It was as if he didn’t care about either, which was always refreshing in any working environment. He was a quietly self-confident man and I admired that.

“Sorry Tess. You’ve lost your Tim Tams for good now, but we can still find another treat for you around here,” he commiserated, sliding his arm around my shoulder.

“What?” I asked, looking up at him in surprise, for once not minding his touch. I guess that meant that I was getting used to him.

“Graham Mundy being interviewed,” he smiled down at me.

Chapter 30

We stood watching in the viewing room as Xavier questioned Graham. It was clear the interview had been going for some time, but also equally clear that Graham hadn’t been cooperating one little bit. Judging by his strained features, Xavier had really had enough of Graham’s relentless shouting and so had his duty lawyer, a very young man fresh out of university, who was clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead as if he had a brain-splitting migraine. They were currently taking a small break from the interview while they all enjoyed a cup of tea, the recording equipment switched off. But Graham was letting his tea grow cold on the table while he continued ranting.

“Will I go in?” I asked the Sarge. “Graham doesn’t like me and that might help.”

“Only if you feel like it, Tess. You’ve already been through a lot today.”

“Sarge, my Tim Tams were stolen from me.
By a cop!
Oh, you better believe that I feel like taking it out on someone. Why not my good friend Graham? He deserves it more than most.”

I left him to burst into the interview room without any warning, startling everyone.

“Shut the hell up, Graham!” I shouted, even louder than him. He shut the hell up straight away, brown eyes huge in his pale face. The two other men cast me grateful glances for the tiny slice of silence, no matter how temporary.

“Not her. Anyone but her,” Graham whined immediately to his lawyer. “I can’t stand the sight of her.”

“I can’t stand the sight of you either, you little creep,” I said stridently, thinking of my sore knees. I was the one with the grievance in this relationship, not him. “Why aren’t you cooperating in this interview?”

He faltered, before continuing in a small voice, “I don’t want to go to jail. I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“You spill your guts right now, Graham,” I said banging my fist on the table, making him jump. “You’ve already told Sergeant Maguire and me a lot of damning things.”

“You can’t make me,” he replied defiantly and started up the racket again. “It’s a violation of my human rights to interrogate me like this! I want a lawyer . . .”

He paused, embarrassed, casting his eyes over to his lawyer who showed his annoyance at being so unappreciated by slamming his tea mug down hard on the table, flinging himself back in his seat and crossing his arms.

Time for a change in tack. I regarded Graham thoughtfully as I sat down at the table, before turning to Xavier. “Do you know what, Detective Sergeant Guylen? I think we’re wrong. We’re barking up the wrong tree completely.”

“What do you mean, Senior Constable?” he asked with artful surprise.

“Look at him,” I said, casting a scornful eye over Graham. “He’s nothing but sound and wind. It’s definitely not him who masterminded this swindle, after all. I mean, think about it.” I leaned back in my chair. “Don’t you think that Graham here is a bit . . . unevolved? I just don’t see how it’s possible for someone like him to be able to even
think
up a plan like this, let alone carry it out.”

“True,” said Xavier in a considered tone. “His mother, his uncle and his former neighbour have all told us that he’s weak and rather stupid. That he would never amount to much. And they’d know better than anyone. I’d ask his girlfriend her opinion . . .” Significant pause. “. . . but he doesn’t have one.”

“I’m not stupid, no matter what they say,” Graham denied sullenly, resenting the girlfriend crack.

“You know what I think?” I asked Xavier. “I reckon that it was Uncle Stanley responsible for the whole swindle and that Graham here was just his gofer. We know that Uncle Stanley is a very smart man. He’s a lawyer, after all. And what’s Graham? He’s only a paralegal. And probably not even properly qualified to do that.”

Graham grew defensive. “There’s nothing wrong with being a paralegal. There’re lots of smart people who are paralegals.” He glared at us. “And I’m going to do the course one day. I am. I really am.”

“Sure you are, Graham,” I said, in my most pitying tone. “One day. Maybe. But that would be a bit too much like hard work though, wouldn’t it? And that’s not really your kind of thing, is it?”

Xavier slammed his notebook closed. “You’re right, Senior Constable. We’re interviewing the wrong person. I’ve been wasting my time. Graham is just Stanley’s patsy. We need to talk to the brains of the operation, not the legs.” He shook his head in wonder. “You really have to admire Stanley’s intelligence for coming up with such a tight plan. It was almost genius.”

“He sure is a smart man,” I agreed. “You almost feel compelled to respect him for his clarity of thinking and planning.”

“
I’m
the brains, not Stanley,” shouted Graham, leaning forward on the desk, froths of saliva at the corner of his mouth. “
I’m
the one who found the other pieces of land, not Stanley. Uncle Stanley had no fucking idea about them, even though he’s been administering that fund for years! It was
me
, not him!”

Xavier turned his attention to Graham again, a disbelieving, almost kind expression on his face. “Don’t try to big-note yourself, Graham. It’s over. We’ve realised you’re not smart enough to be the main man.”