Rubdown (27 page)

‘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 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.

‘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, 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.

‘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 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.

Eleven 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.’

‘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 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 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.’