Challis - 01 - Dragon Man (17 page)

When she came upon him he was
walking around in small circles at the back wheel, bent over, his hands clasped
behind his back. Her feet pounded, coming closer, and began to falter.

Lost something?

He looked up at her with relief, flashing
a smile. Blasted wheel nut. The lights not good enough and I havent got a
torch.

Half-bent, he continued to search
near the jack. She joined him. In these conditions
dawn, air quite still
hed
have plenty of warning if another vehicle were coming. He and number three
walked around like that for a short time, then, when she widened the search to
take in the area near the exhaust pipe, and crouched to peer beneath the rear
axle, he took her.

Now,
that
was a snatch.

* * * *

Ten

ye-bye,
Sprog, Scobie Sutton said.

Not Sprog. Roslyn. Ros . . . lyn.

Roslyn.

Her little arms shot up, there at
the back door. Daddy, you hold me.

I have to go to work now, sweetie.

You take me? Please?

Maybe another day.

Scobie, love, youll give her false
hope.

It was often like this. You really
had to think hard before you said or did anything around a three-year-old, for
if they got the wrong message about something, a lot of the groundwork could go
out the window.

He said, Kiss Daddy goodbye. Well
have a barbecue tonight, how would that be?

Shotchidge?

Shotchidge on bread with lots of
sauce.

Two
shotchidge?

As many as you like.

Through the kisses goodbye, he heard
his wife say, Im so lucky, I cant believe it.

Ill try to get home early.

It
is
Christmas Eve, my
love.

* * * *

Pam
Murphy went surfing early that morning, hoping to stumble upon Ginger with a
class, but he wasnt there. Sunday, Christmas Eve, she should have expected it.
The day stretched ahead of her. She rang her parents.

Ninety minutes later she was getting
off the Melbourne train and on to the Kew tram. Her parents lived in a
turn-of-the-century house set in an overgrown garden on a hill overlooking
Studley Park. Visiting them was something she did from time to time, not only
because they were her parents, and getting on in years, but because, just once,
shed like them to express approval of the life shed made for herself.

And today she wanted to put Tankard,
Kellock and McQuarrie out of her mind, and give her parents their Christmas
presents, and get some presents from them, and generally put her police life
out of her mind for a few hours before she had to report for duty again at 4
p.m..

The house was in bad shape, rotting
window frames, peeling paint and wallpaper, salt damp in the walls, leaking
roof, even if it did sit on half an acre of prime real estate.

She had her own key.

That you, dear?

Who else? Pam thought. Me, mum.

Kerlunk, kerlunk, and then a scrape
as her mothers walking frame manoeuvred through the sitting-room door, and
more kerlunking as the old woman made her way along the hallway. It was dark
inside the house, despite the dazzling sun outside. It beat against the heavy
front door and barely lit up the stained glass.

Pam kissed her mother. Hows Dad?

A considering frown: Lets say hes
had a so-so day.

Typing?

Yes.

Pam rubbed the palms of her hands
together, gearing up for the long walk past her mother and down the dim,
dampish hallway to the back room, where her father lived now, surrounded by his
books. Dr Murphy didnt seem to sleep. He spent all of his time propped up by
pillows, a portable typewriter on his lap.

Pam hesitated. Hows it going?

We spent the morning squabbling
about the use of a hyphen, her mother replied. He insisted that it should be
oil hyphen painting, I said that once upon a time it would have been, but that
two single words was acceptable nowadays.

There were three PhDs in the family.
Pams father, and both of her brothers, who were several years older than her.
The brothers were teaching at universities in the United States and were never
coming back. That left Pam, whod still been a child, an afterthought, when her
brothers left home to live in university colleges. Some of the familys
intellectual sparkle seemed to go with them, and Pam grew up in the belief that
her own development hadnt mattered as much to her parents, that the familys
brains hadnt been passed on to her. And so she made it clear that she was
happy to swim and cycle and play tennis and go cross-country skiing. Solitary
sports, mostly. But she made an interesting discovery: these sports taught her
to think well, for they encouraged problem solving, solitude and reflection, so
that she no longer believed that she wasnt clever. When she graduated from the
Police Academy, she was ranked third in her class.

Not that the family registered that
fact.

Hi, Dad.

What is this hi business? Should
I now respond low?

Hello, Dad, Father, Pater, O Kingly
One.

Her father grinned. The room smelt
musty, a smell composed of old flesh and old furnishings and books. Pam crossed
to the window.

Leave it! her father said.

As you wish.

Sit, sweetie. What are the lawless
up to?

And Pam told him, embellishing,
watching her fathers avid face. It was more than a simple desire for salacious
detail. Pam suspected that he took a certain eugenicist position on crime.

And what did this fellow look like?

Oh, pretty average, Pam said. Hows
the book going?

Dr Murphy had been a lecturer in
mathematics. Hed led an uneventful life, but was trying to screw an
autobiography out of it.

At the rate Im writing, he said
sourly, Im likely to die before Ive been conceived.

* * * *

That
afternoon, van Alphen wondered about the relationship between sexual desire and
cocaine. Clearly Clara wanted him, but he didnt know how to read it. Simple
desire, for him as an individual? Gratitude for his being there when she needed
him after the fire? Or was it chemical, the cocaine itself acting on her, and
nothing to do with him as a person?

She was discreet. Hed never seen
her take the stuff. Shed hidden it away without taking any the night he
delivered it, and when hed called around yesterday it was clear that shed
already had some. No way did he want to see her take it, and she was protecting
him, insisting that he always contact her before he called in to see her.

Whatever, she was always ready for
him. But did she need to get stoked first? Did she see him as no more than her
supplier, who had to be kept sweet, because he didnt want payment in cash but
in sex?

He was a long way in, now. Hed
given her grams and grams of the stuff. Clara, dont be offended, youre not
going to sell the stuff on, are you?

She was shocked, genuinely outraged.
Van, I told you, its for my nerves.

I know.

You can
see
its helping,
cant you? I mean, do I seem as jumpy to you any more?

I guess not.

No. So dont ask me that. I feel
ashamed enough as it is.

Okay.

Its not as if Im a junkie or
anything.

There were old scars, scarcely
visible. Maybe she had been, once upon a time. Forget I said it, Clara, okay?

All right, she said grudgingly,
then stretched out fully against his flank. God youre good for me.

Shed drawn the curtains. Incense
was burning. In the perfumed dimness he turned and kissed her. She broke away. Were
forgetting
you,
Van. You seem edgy.

Ahhh, he said, rolling on to his
back and flinging an arm across his eyes, its been a hell of a couple of
days. Two of my constables arrested some rich prat two nights ago, now the
mothers making waves, complaining to the superintendent.

Plus that girl being found
murdered.

Plus that.

They fell silent, began to caress
each other. Afterwards, heartbeat and blood flow ebbing pleasantly, he propped
himself on one elbow and with the tips of his fingers began to trace her
breasts and stomach and the glorious hollows inside her thighs. Incredible
skin, he said. You wouldnt be part Maori, would you?

Her body seemed to alter under his
gaze, recoiling, shutting him out. Here we go, she said. It had to come,
sooner or later.

What?

Does it make a difference who or
what I am?

Of course not. I just asked

You like a bit of black meat, is
that it? Or maybe youre disgusted but cant help yourself? Or are you trying
to break it off with me?

I only said

Just you remember where the coke
came from, big boy. Hurt me again, insult me, get me into trouble, and Ill
spill everything so fast you wont know what hit you. Cop steals drugs for
girlfriend, I can see it now.

Jesus, I only said

Im flesh and blood, arent I, like
you? I got feelings?

Of course.

I deserve respect.

I respect you.

Well dont say anything insulting
to me again. Dont even
think
it. I especially dont want to hear
anything about Maoris or New Zealand or anything about my past, okay?

Sure.

She pushed down on his head. Do me
with your tongue. Thats it . . . thats it . . .

She was slippery ground, but sex was
firm ground, and van Alphen threw himself into it. He heard, through the
dampish slap of her inner thighs against his ears, a sound like pleasure and
pain.

* * * *

At
four oclock, just as John Tankard was finishing a cup of tea in the staff
canteen before going on patrol with Pam Murphy, someone called, Hey, Tank, bad
luck, mate.

Yeah, thanks.

Dropping the charges, what
bastards.

Yeah, I know.

So, did you get to screw old Cindy,
or what?

John Tankard propelled the other man
across the room, forearm to the throat, flattening him against the wall. You
arsehole.

Chill out, Tank. He was only
joking.

Yeah, let him go, Tank. Look, were
all on your side. They think if theyve got money they can get away with
anything. Its not right. Were on your side. So let him go.

Tankard released his colleague. It
wasnt oftenever?that the others were on his side.

* * * *

Challis
picked up the phone and heard Tessa Kane say, Hal, I thought Id ring now to
wish you Merry Christmas. Ill be with my family all day tomorrow.

There was a touch of desolation in
her voice. Was her life like his? He breathed out heavily. Have a happy day.

Thank you.

Then her voice dropped, taking on
slow, lonely tones. You should have called.

Challis waited, then said carefully,
I was going to.

I wish you hadnt left like that.

They were silent. Eventually Challis
said softly, Id better go. Id like to see you again soon.

Wait! I heard you arrested

Challis put the phone down. Arrested
Lady Bastians son, she was going to say, and apparently there were questions
all over the arrest, but that wasnt his problem.

He glanced at his watch. Six-thirty.
He decided against going home and then coming back again, and walked down High
Street to the Fish Bar, a bistro between the shire offices and the jetty. From
the window he could see the open ground that the town had set aside for fairs
and carnivals. Tonight: Carols by Candlelight. Late January: the Westernport
Festival. Anzac Day: dawn service.

He liked eating alone. He often had
no choice but to eat alone, but he did like it, most of the time. Tonight it
would have been better to have dined with someone, for he felt peaceful and
relaxed for the first time in a whilewhich owed a lot to the fact that it was
Christmas Eve and the towneven the police station all that daywas in a
slowed-down mood, everyone benign and full of good intentions.

At eight oclock he paid his bill,
and as he was standing, waiting, folding his credit card receipt into his
pocket, he saw Scobie Suttons car draw into the kerb on the other side of the
road. The grassy area near the little bandstand was filling rapidly. Sutton and
his wife and daughter got out of the car, carrying blankets and hymn books. The
child was sleepy. Challis watched them join the crowd. Someone gave them
candles from a cardboard box, and they settled on to their blankets. But
Challis didnt join them when the carol singing began. He might have, and been
welcomed, but he found a corner of the crowd where he could sing and not be
expected to talk.