The Mak Collection (84 page)

Ed. He was trying to stop Ed.

‘He was unconscious when he was brought in. To staunch the bleeding they had to give him something to reverse the medication. In his case there was a risk of a clot. I’m afraid he suffered a stroke on the operating table. I’m sorry, Andy.’ She touched his arm reassuringly. ‘He has stabilised a little. There is a good chance he’ll pull through.’

Andy felt numb. He took a few moments to respond. ‘Is that all you can tell me?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Thanks, Carol. I’m sorry if I’ve been…’

‘I understand,’ she said, squeezing his hand. ‘If I can do anything, let me know.’

She left him, and Andy moved back into the ward to speak to Kelley.

‘Has anyone told Angie?’

‘We’re sending a couple of constables around to inform her. She knows Hunt. He’ll be there to let her down.’

Three kids. Why did Jimmy have to have a wife and three kids to leave behind? He can’t die. He just can’t.

‘There was no sign of Ed Brown when they got there? Nothing?’ Andy pressed.

‘His handcuffs were on the ground. He’d already vanished.’

‘No one can
vanish.
Have we checked the boats along the coastline? The bushland? The freight port? Someone must have seen something for
Christ’s sake!’ Andy made fists at his sides. ‘Has anyone told Makedde that Ed is out?’

‘We’re sending someone over now.’

‘I’ve got to speak to her first. Give me ten minutes.’

‘Flynn…’

‘Just give me this, sir. Please.’

‘Makedde…’

‘Speaking.’ Makedde’s voice was dull and noncommittal.

‘I need to talk to you right now.’

‘Well, hello to you too,’ she said, recognising his voice.

Andy was so utterly relieved that she sounded okay, he barely registered her coolness.

Kelley had said her phone had been ringing out, but now she was safely inside her hotel room. Safe.
Thank God.
The dread in his heart eased just a fraction. The hotel was the best place for her to be at the moment. It was unlikely that Ed Brown would make a beeline for her there so soon. He would be too busy covering his own arse, wouldn’t he? Andy had to keep her inside that room until he explained the situation himself, and it wouldn’t take him long to get there. He knew that what he had to tell her would be the worst possible news anyone could give her, and it was only right that she heard it from him directly. Andy couldn’t bear the thought of her finding out from some door-knocking
flatfoot constable she had never met, or from the officers who were on their way to the hotel now to protect her.

‘There’s something very important I need to discuss with you,’ he urged with as much calm as he could muster. He sprinted across the hospital parking lot with his phone at his ear.

‘Are you running?’ she asked.

‘Um, yeah.’

‘I was going to ring you later,’ Mak said.

Andy finally reached his car in the hospital parking lot and threw the door open. He slid into the driver’s seat and shoved the key in the ignition.

‘I can’t explain it over the phone,’ he managed, now slightly out of breath. ‘I need to speak to you in person. I’m on my way.’

‘Oh, Andy, I’m meeting up with Loulou in fifteen minutes. I’m just about to leave.’

‘Don’t go out. Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming right over. Just promise me you’ll stay put.’ His knew his words sounded peremptory, probably even rude. He would have to apologise later. And to Carol too. She had turned out to be a great help at the hospital.

‘But…’

Andy pinched the phone between his shoulder and his ear, and started his car. It revved up reliably and he was about to step on the gas when he looked up and noticed an old man backing a station wagon out in front of him…slowly…slowly…so goddamn slowly. He pressed the horn in a fit of frustration, knowing full well that it
wouldn’t encourage the man’s driving skills in the least.

‘Fuck…’

‘Excuse me?’ Mak was still on the line.

‘Sorry. That wasn’t for you,’ he said.
Hurry up, old man! Hurry up!
‘Stay in your hotel room,’ he ordered bluntly, his patience waning. ‘I’ll be there in a few minutes, ten at the most—’

‘But…’

Finally the station wagon was out of the way. Andy laid the pedal down and burned rubber out of the parking lot. The phone was hot against his ear lobe.

‘Andy, are you there?’

‘Mak,’ he shouted. ‘I need you to stay right there. Just promise me you’ll stay put until I get there.’

‘Um, okay.’

‘Don’t let anyone in the room. I don’t care who they say they are. Bolt the door. Use the chain. I’ll be ten minutes at the most.
Do not open your door to anyone else, you hear me?
If you know anything about me, you’ll know I’m not fucking around. I’ll see you in under ten.’

He hung up.

Ed Brown was apprehensive as he approached the house.

For almost five minutes, he sat in the Prison Lady’s car at the end of the street, engine off, still wearing the golfing gear with the cap pulled low over his forehead. He crossed his arms and observed quietly. There was no movement on the street or at the house. To be sure he had the right place, he checked the address on the Prison Lady’s note several times.

It wasn’t what he had expected.

The Prison Lady had directed him to a large modern-looking family house, two levels, in a quiet suburban neighbourhood. It seemed an unusual home for a single woman.
She must be a widow
, he thought. She hadn’t said anything about that. He hoped she didn’t have an ex-husband she hadn’t told him about who might be lurking somewhere and could cause problems. Perhaps her place was a semi, or she shared it with someone. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be able to stick around even long enough to shower and change into some new clothes. He’d have to grab what he could and go.

The lawns on the nature strip were well kept. He saw a tricycle next to one of the driveways. Ed pictured smiling Brady Bunch families, Tupperware parties and golden-haired children playing under sprinklers in the summertime. It looked like the Australia of 1950s’ detergent ads, but it was nothing like the neighbourhood he had grown up in. He had no memories of green lawns and tricycles. He was more familiar with being locked in his room, learning lessons that came by way of a hot iron and a length of rope, and children who liked to break his nose after school and make fun of the way he talked. That was the Australia he knew.

Ed reminded himself that it was Saturday, around midday, so there was an increased chance that some of the families on the street would be at home. Someone might notice him in the Prison Lady’s car if he loitered around too much. He needed to make a decision. Should he go in? Ed started the car and drove past the house for another look. He didn’t spot any movement there. The curtains were drawn and they didn’t twitch as he passed. He circled the block and waited. No one seemed to have followed him from Botany Bay. There wasn’t anyone on the street that he could see. It was time to do it, if ever he was going to.

Tense and alert for every movement, Ed parked in the Prison Lady’s driveway. He was protected from view by a row of tall shrubs. He turned the engine off, left the driver’s door open and the key in the ignition, and stepped out. He hurried to the back door, nervously scanning left and right, still wary of
waiting police. Nothing looked suspicious so far.
I will go in
, he decided. He needed somewhere to shower and change. He needed something to eat. He needed cash, or something he could pawn for fast money. Unlike the ex-cons on TV, Ed had not stashed money away in case he ever needed to flee justice. He’d never considered that his freedom might be taken away. He had no fancy contacts to help him with fake passports or illegal guns. He was starting with nothing. He hoped to find everything he needed to begin his new life waiting for him inside this suburban house. Then he could concentrate on his plans.

Ed found the key to the back door under a straw mat, just as the Prison Lady had promised. WELCOME HOME, the mat said.

Ed picked up the key and slid it into the keyhole. It fitted. He turned it and the door unlocked. No alarms. He stepped inside. The Prison Lady had assured him that no one would be around, and so far she seemed to be telling the truth. He closed the door behind him and listened. Nothing. The lights were off. No moving shadows or reflections. He could hardly believe his luck. Could he actually be in the clear?

Surprisingly, the house was
huge.

Ed spent the next few minutes walking through it, upstairs and down, laughing. It wasn’t a semi. He counted four bedrooms, expensively furnished. There were all kinds of things he could sell. VCRs, television sets, golf clubs, appliances. There was a pool table, though he could never get it out of the
house to pawn. When he reached the large kitchen he found a note propped against some ham and cheese sandwiches wrapped in Glad Wrap. He hungrily ripped the package open and sank his teeth into one of the sandwiches. Then another. And another. He opened the note.

Dearest Sweetheart,

Please enjoy this snack. Make yourself at home. I will be home from work by one. I can’t wait to be together! I love you.

With love from your dearest,

Suzie

A note from the Prison Lady.

Ed had planned to only stay one day, but perhaps he could hang around a bit longer, until he got himself organised. It looked comfortable enough, and it was fairly clean. Ed had debated for the past week about exactly when to kill the woman. She looked like she had money, which was not what he’d expected. Maybe he shouldn’t kill her right away? She wasn’t his type, so it wasn’t like he would enjoy killing her or anything. Perhaps he could get some cash out of her over the next couple of days? Then he could grab some of the valuables from the house, take the car and go. She had been useful so far, much more useful than he had even dared to hope. He would keep her around for a few days and see what else he could get out of her, he decided. If anything went wrong, he could take care of her quickly enough.

Ed had an hour or so before the Prison Lady returned from work. He would shower and change. It would be awkward to see her outside jail. She would be expecting affection, probably. That might pose a problem. But she would be able to tell him all about how his little escapade had gone down at Long Bay. He looked forward to that. They would know by now that there was no body. There never had been one there, or at the petrol station. The police would be humiliated. They’d been had.

Ed grinned.

I did it
, he thought.
I’m free.

Andy arrived at Makedde’s hotel room, panting. He knocked on the door impatiently. A fingertip strayed to his gun holster, just in case.

Please let her be here. Please let her be alone…

He could hear footsteps as someone approached the door. There was a pause as he was investigated through the eyehole, and then with a series of clicks the door was opened.

It was Makedde.

Her hair was tied back in a wet ponytail that left her neck moist. She wore a black T-shirt and leather pants, and a challenging look that seemed to say, ‘This better be good.’ Her eyebrows were subtly raised and her lips pushed out in a curious pout, wrinkling her chin with tension. The look in her eyes was one of apprehension. Her arms were crossed, as usual. She had bare feet, which made him feel taller.

‘I have to say, your phone call really freaked me out,’ she began.

‘He escaped,’ Andy said, point-blank, and closed the door behind him. He had decided to waste no time in explaining the emergency. No hellos or how are yous.

‘Escaped,’ she repeated. Her voice was flat.

‘Yes.’

‘I, um, I don’t suppose you would joke about such a thing, or…or…I also doubt that you’re talking about someone’s pet dog, or…’

Grasping at straws. He shook his head gently.

She breathed deeply and let off a humourless laugh. ‘Tell me, Detective, how does one escape when one is a convicted serial killer? I presume that’s who you are talking about?’

She uncrossed her arms and then crossed them again. The warm colour had drained from her face, and now her even features were set against a smooth, deathly pallor. There was a slight flicker of nerves around her mouth. She rarely lost her composure, but she looked on the edge of panic now.

‘Yes,’ she continued, ‘A
guilty, convicted serial killer
, who is presumably under
maximum
security? Hmmm. How does one go about escaping then? What, forty-eight hours after his conviction?’ Her anger and disbelief were palpable.

‘I think we should sit down,’ Andy said.

Mak nodded. He knew she would be in a state of shock, the full realisation not yet hitting her. She sat on the edge of the hotel bed. Andy dragged a chair over and sat near her. She watched him silently. He could not read her thoughts, though he knew they would be dark.

‘Makedde, I am very sorry to give you this news, but Ed Brown escaped from custody today.’ He found himself automatically slipping into the role of a
death-knocker, using that gentle, soothing, emotionless tone he had learned with years of practice.
Just the facts. Stick to the clear facts.
‘At this time, we don’t know his whereabouts. My partner, Jimmy Cassimatis, is in bad shape.’ His voice wavered. ‘The other officers who were present are injured, some badly. Ed used some kind of explosive…somehow.’

She did not respond, but tears filled the corners of her eyes at the mention of Jimmy. Mak didn’t even seem aware of them. A tear ran from an eyelash down to the corner of her mouth. Andy wanted to kiss it away. The frustrating fact that he couldn’t, and the truth about Jimmy and his own helplessness with all of it, brought him close to tears again himself. He blinked the feeling away and made himself emotionally distant again.

‘Ed was supposed to lead a group of officers to the body of one of his victims this morning,’ he went on. ‘He’s done some kind of deal with his confession. They went to look for a body yesterday as well, without incident.’ He paused. This part was hard to say. ‘I was not there when it happened. They wouldn’t let me near Ed so I was left out. Now Jimmy is in hospital instead of me.’