The Mak Collection (86 page)

Mak’s father, Les, had been positively incensed when news of Ed’s escape had reached him, and was threatening to land in Sydney, advanced gastric ulcer and all, with his own shit-stirring enquiry. Mak thought it would be a pointless exercise now that the horse had bolted. She would wait out the hours cocooned in the hotel until her flight, with nothing but the company of her police escorts. Evidently they had been briefed to stay out of her way, but not to let her go anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary.

‘Um, Miss Vanderwall?’ It was the woman’s voice.

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you up?’

‘I could be.’ She rolled out of bed and adjusted her T-shirt and boxer shorts. They’d remained favourites long after their original owner had fallen out of Mak’s good books. A hole was widening in one of the boxer’s worn seams.

‘There is a message here from Detective Flynn. It says he would like you to call him as soon as you are up.’

‘Hmmm. Okay.’ Her heart tightened in her chest.

‘Would you like me to get him on the phone for you?’ the woman asked.

‘No…hang on. Just give me a moment first.’

Great. Security and social coordinators all in one. Perhaps they’ll set us up on a nice date inside some barbed wire fencing.

Mak brushed her teeth and threw a robe on over her bedclothes. Barefaced and wild of hair, she marched across the bedroom and presented herself in the lounge area where she found her two officers variously sprawled over a chair and a couch near the coffee table, reading the newspaper. Sykes nodded hello. The male officer’s eyes widened at the sight of Mak.

‘Good morning. Yes, I know…glamorous, eh?’ Mak’s words were heavy with sarcasm. She turned her attention to Sykes. ‘I guess I’ll give Detective Flynn a call now. To his mobile?’

Mak closed the intersecting door and called Andy from the bedroom phone. It felt disturbingly intimate to sit on the bed and talk to him, and it brought to mind their long phone calls of times past. Their attempt at a long-distance relationship had failed miserably. In reality, Mak could not abandon her university studies and her dream of setting up a psych practice in Vancouver, and Andy could not be expected to give up his job and consider a future in law enforcement with the Canadian police. Their situation was confusing, an emotional roller-coaster, unlucky, unworkable…

Two rings. ‘Flynn,’ was his none-too-friendly answer.

‘Vanderwall,’ she said in return.

‘Oh, Mak! You called.’

‘Hi, how are you?’ she asked.

‘Ah…okay.’

Impenetrable.

‘How’s Jimmy doing?’ Mak asked. ‘Any news?’

‘Well he can’t speak and he can’t eat and he can’t feel one side of his body, but he’s alive.’

‘How are you coping?’

‘Me? Fine.’

That was hardly true, she was sure. ‘Would you like to meet up today?’ she asked. ‘Um…just, you know, it might be good to see each other before I leave tonight.’

‘Yes, I’d like that.’

‘Well, I’ll be here at the hotel all day, I’m guessing. Not like I have many other options. Everywhere I go I’m a table of three.’

Ed Brown pulled another drawer open. Scissors, tape, ribbons, business cards, tacks and dust. The desk was filled with junk.

Come on…come on…

He was growing impatient. Ed had already rummaged through most of the house in search of the Prison Lady’s bank details and PIN. He couldn’t find anything like that. It was almost as if she didn’t live there at all. No documents, nothing. He spotted a filing cabinet and pulled the top drawer open. It was empty. Nothing but a paper clip mangled at the bottom.

Next drawer, nothing.

The sound of a car in the drive made him jump to his feet. Ed quickly shut the cabinet drawer and sprinted up the stairs as fast as he could. He heard the back door unlock just as he made it down the hall and reached his bedroom.

‘Honey, I’m home!’ came the voice from downstairs.

Ed didn’t respond, but crawled into bed and pulled the sheet up to his chin. He would have to try again later, and if he did not succeed, he would
have to get the Prison Lady to an ATM and make her take the money out herself. Once he had her money he could leave. Once he had her money he could get started on his plan. It had been a long wait. He had his freedom. He was already halfway there.

‘Sweetheart?’

He could hear her coming down the hall. He lay still with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Heavy sickly odours crowded in on him. It was even worse than it was the day before. Before she left for her midnight shift she had put more of those hideous potpourri bags and ceramic knick-knacks in the shape of puppy dogs and bunnies in his room. He could see them on top of the bureau.

Just a little longer.

He heard her footsteps as she came to the door, saw that he was asleep and left. He detected sounds from the kitchen, then, ‘Sweetheart…’

She sidled through the bedroom door, grinning with her awful, lipless bird-mouth and carrying a breakfast tray with a cup of coffee and some toast and Vegemite. He yawned and stretched and pretended to be tired.

‘Hello sleepyhead.’ She minced over and kissed him on the forehead. He wanted to recoil, but he couldn’t afford to, yet. He needed to get her to an automatic teller first. He just needed a bit more time. He could clean his forehead later, when she wasn’t looking. Ed only needed to keep her alive for another day at the most, until he got some money, and got his plan together. He knew this was
his best bet for the moment. His mother’s place would be crawling with police, making it impossible to go back. That upset him. And worse, his possessions wouldn’t be there waiting for him. None of the ones he coveted, anyway. The police had taken them as evidence.

My girls.

The police had taken his freedom and his well-earned trophies. But now he would get his own back. They’d see. Andy Flynn would see.

‘And how is my little lovebird? Did you sleep well?’ the Prison Lady asked.

‘I slept very well, sweetheart. You look so beautiful today.’ He tried his best to look at her and smile when he said it.

She blushed, her saggy jowls turning rosy. She had gone to great lengths to please him with her appearance, he could tell. She was wearing even more make-up than the day before. He had not noticed any make-up on her when she was at Long Bay, but her thin, downturned lips were painted with coral lipstick now. Her small, black eyes were gaudy with blue eyeshadow. He hoped she hadn’t been wearing all that at work. Someone might notice.

‘Oh, you are so kind,’ she simpered.

He managed a smile. ‘Sweetheart, thank you so much for everything you have done. You did so well. And all this,’ he pointed to the fussy ornaments and scented gewgaws, ‘you’ve made it very comfortable for me here.’

‘You like it? Oh, thank you!’

‘Oh yes, but I’m afraid I’m allergic to perfume,’ he lied. ‘I think I smell some lavender? My nose is starting to…’ he coughed once for effect, ‘clog up.’

‘Oh no!’ she cried, embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry, Ed! I’ll get rid of it right away.’

‘That’s okay, honey,’ he reassured her. ‘How could you know? I’m afraid I just can’t handle perfume.’

She was already running around the room as he spoke, collecting the little ceramic animals and some frilly jars filled with scented candle wax. He watched her with distaste. She wore jeans high on her waist, with a tucked-in flower-print top in pastel colours. She was a stocky, fit woman. Not fat. She would have to be strong for her job, he supposed. Her hair was wiry and brown, with a fringe that hung in her small eyes. He found her face severe and mannish.

Suzie had already bundled up the most offending items when she spotted more potpourri and grabbed that too, then scurried out the door.

When will I kill her?
he wondered.
And where?
He could worry about that once he had some money from her. She would be easily taken care of after that. She was only a woman, albeit a physically strong one, and she was eating out of the palm of his hand.

She came back into the bedroom, red-faced.

‘Thank you so much, darling. I’m sorry about that,’ Ed said.

‘Oh, no.
I’m
sorry,’ she insisted.

‘Perhaps now I could have some disinfectant to—’ he began.

‘Oh, of course!’ She ran out of the room, returning quickly with an aerosol can. She sprayed it everywhere, until the room was gloriously foggy.

He felt himself relax. He could clean the germs some more later. But for now, he felt better.

‘Do you really like the house?’ she asked excitedly, through the tea-tree scented mist, his favourite. They had used tea-tree disinfectant at the morgue where he used to work.

‘Yes, I do,’ he replied.

It will do for now.

‘It’s the perfect love nest, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘Yes, it is. I’m sorry I’ve been so tired. I haven’t been very good company,’ he said.

‘Oh sweetheart, you’ve had a stressful time. You can just relax now. I’ll take good care of you. We have all the time in the world.’

‘Come over here and sit on the edge of the bed,’ he said. He hated having her close, but he would have to deal with it for now. She had made arrangements for them to sleep in separate bedrooms, for which he was privately grateful. But there were things he needed to know. She came over to the bed, beaming.
The disinfectant will make her clean
, he thought.

‘Have you heard anything from the police?’ Ed asked.

‘Oh, no. Don’t worry.’ She switched out of her ridiculous girlie behaviour and became serious, like she had been at first when they were back at Long Bay. ‘Today I was questioned about whether we saw
anything out of the ordinary at the correctional facility, but I was prepared. They don’t suspect a thing. It was all routine stuff. It will be fine. There is nothing that can link me to what happened.’

He nodded, partially reassured. It probably bought him a couple of days before things got hot, maybe even longer. The police would be combing the airports, the borders, and any place he had frequented in the past.

‘Will they come here to question you?’ he asked.

‘Oh no, I don’t even live here. They might question me again at work, maybe. But I have tomorrow off.’

Ed perked up. ‘You don’t live here?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘It…um…’ She seemed a little embarrassed. ‘It belonged to a deceased family member,’ she explained.

‘Oh.’ It was her mother’s house, he guessed. That made sense, given all the frilly cushions and knick-knacks.

‘I come here on my days off and enjoy it, but no one knows about it. No one comes here. It’s a perfect hideaway for us, you see. It’s all ours.’

She was keeping something from him.

‘Oh, good,’ he said, unsure how much he could push her on the subject so soon in the game. Would it even matter? He only needed one more day. ‘So you are absolutely sure that no one will be coming here? No friends of yours, or family?’ He had asked before, but he needed to be certain.

‘I promise, sweetheart. We’ll be free here.’

He smiled for her, feigning excitement, but when she came in for a kiss, he recoiled. The Prison Lady put her lips against his and left a big, wet mark. When she left the room to make him scrambled eggs, Ed ran to the bathroom and washed his face with soap and water until it was red from scrubbing. Her lipstick tasted like rancid cooking oil.

Makedde and Andy met in the small third-floor lobby area of the Sir Stamford late on Sunday afternoon. It had been just over twenty-four hours since Ed Brown’s escape.

Mak could see Andy’s tall figure as she walked down the hallway from her room. He had not yet spotted her, so she was afforded a moment to observe him and prepare herself to face him. He wore his usual blue jeans and black leather jacket, just as he had on their first dates together. His cheeks appeared more hollow than usual, though, his chin dark with stubble. Just like herself, he clearly had not slept. The effect of his impressive height was diminished by his hunched shoulders, slumped forward as if they carried the weight of the world.
Just like me
, she thought. Though she tried to deny it to herself, Makedde’s eyes took in the sight of him hungrily. It was probably the familiar face, or the break from boredom in the hotel, she reasoned. Or the empathy she felt for his anxiety about Jimmy. Nothing more. She couldn’t be in love. It wouldn’t be good for her if she was. After all, she was preparing herself never to see him again.

‘Hi Andy.’ His head turned at the sound of her voice. ‘Thanks for coming. How are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, fine.’

They shared a moment of awkwardness in their greeting. Should they embrace? Shake hands? Kiss on the cheek like Europeans? As it was, they nodded at each other and avoided physical contact.

‘There’s a nice sitting area over there,’ Mak suggested, pointing to a cosy side room. ‘They can bring drinks for us and I’m sure we’d be left alone.’

‘Sounds good.’

They made their way over, and after another brief moment of uncertainty, found seats opposite one another. In seconds a waiter appeared to take their orders. Mak asked for a latte and Andy copied her request. The occasion seemed to call for something stiffer, but it was barely noon.

‘So this is where they have you now,’ Andy said, looking around. ‘It’s sure tucked away. How was your stay last night?’

‘Your special guest prisoner was just fine.’

‘Special guest prisoner?’ he said. ‘Yes, I think they have that written on your file.’

‘VIP SGP,’ she said.

Andy laughed briefly, but silence followed close behind. They couldn’t make small talk forever.

‘How’s Angie?’

Andy shook his head sadly. For the moment he didn’t seem able to respond.

‘Jimmy is a good guy,’ Mak offered. ‘Angie seems like a great lady, too. She’s strong.’

‘Yeah, a good Greek Orthodox family unit. They were going to try for a fourth.’ Andy frowned. ‘Ed Brown has seriously injured a number of police officers, Mak; that’s big. And if someone dies…Not that what he’s already done wasn’t bad enough, but…’