Blood Sunset Part 20

He turned his head away, and in profile he looked like a man. Like many trannies around St Kilda, he'd had the implants but not the tackle chop. Whenever we locked up a trannie, we had to put them in a cell on their own because they didn't belong in the women's or the men's.

'Just look at the picture,' I said. 'This is important.'

'And so am I. I'm not doing this, not today.'

A late model BMW slowed on the other side of the road. Despite not being able to see through the tinted windows, I knew the driver was watching us. He was probably a pervert angling for a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b and was unable to find anyone out today. I stared at the dark windows until the car drove off.

'What's your problem?' I snapped at Dixie. 'I just want a name. She's not in a blue; I just need to speak to her.'

He handed the picture back and turned to walk off but I grabbed his wrist and held it firm.

'You know the rules, Big d.i.c.k. You respect me and I'll do the same for you. If I need help, you don't get to choose when it suits. I decide when it's important. You don't walk away and you don't give me att.i.tude. You just answer my questions and give me what I need. That way, when you need my help there's some left over.'

He knew exactly what I was saying. Pretty soon every hooker becomes a victim and they need us just as much as we need them.

'Look, today's not a good day for us, that's all I'm saying.'

'What do you mean? I don't care about the festival.'

'I'm not talking about the festival,' he hissed. 'Why do you reckon the streets are empty?'

'What are you talking about? Where is everyone?'

'Like you don't know.'

Suddenly a cold dread washed through me. 'What's going on, Dave?'

'You really don't know, do you?'

'No. What is it?'

He stepped under the shade of an elm tree and leant against a brick fence. Another car drove past, slowed and tooted its horn. Neither of us acknowledged it.

'I've never bulls.h.i.tted you, Dave. I've always played fair. Just look at the picture and tell me what's going on around here.'

His eyes shunted back and forth, searching the street, before finally he looked at the picture. It wasn't a long look.

'You're right. She is new to the stroll. Her name's Tammy, I think. That's all I know.'

'Surname? Address?'

He shook his head and handed the picture back.

'Did you know her boyfriend, Dallas Boyd?'

He looked up at me sharply then. 'Yeah, I knew Dall. Everyone did. He was a cool guy, young but smart.'

'Sad,' I said. 'From what I gather he was cleaning himself up.'

'If that's what you call it.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing. He knew the risks. We all do.'

I wanted to ask whether he thought the death was accidental and what the word on the street was, but I had the sense that it didn't matter. The street had killed Dallas Boyd no matter which way you saw it.

'Okay, so where the h.e.l.l is everyone?'

He broke away from me then and yelled 'Talbot Reserve' over his shoulder as he scurried around the corner. There was no point going after him. I went back to my car and drove down to Barkly Street, turned left and stopped when I saw the crime scene tape and a squadron of police cars barricading Talbot Reserve.

21.

TWO NEWS HELICOPTERS hovered above the park like vultures and numerous journos had already gathered. Parked across the street, I counted six police cars and fifteen cops. All eyes were on the mouth of a narrow alley at the rear of the park where a crew of crime scene examiners were taking photographs of something behind a large blue tarpaulin. I angled for a better look and saw another tarpaulin stretched above the pack, tied from one tree to another, blocking any chance of helicopter footage. I recognised most of the cops at the scene, including the district response inspector and three detectives from the Homicide Squad. Further down the street was the familiar white van, waiting for the body. hovered above the park like vultures and numerous journos had already gathered. Parked across the street, I counted six police cars and fifteen cops. All eyes were on the mouth of a narrow alley at the rear of the park where a crew of crime scene examiners were taking photographs of something behind a large blue tarpaulin. I angled for a better look and saw another tarpaulin stretched above the pack, tied from one tree to another, blocking any chance of helicopter footage. I recognised most of the cops at the scene, including the district response inspector and three detectives from the Homicide Squad. Further down the street was the familiar white van, waiting for the body.

I bit my lower lip. Was it Dallas Boyd's girlfriend in there? Wishing I had a police radio, I thought about ringing the watch-house to ask what was happening but then I saw Ca.s.sie speaking to a crime scene examiner. I typed a text message asking her to call, then saw her check her phone, excuse herself and step aside.

'Don't look over,' I said when she rang. 'I'm parked across the road.'

She looked over.

'I said don't look!'

'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks, Rubes. No one can hear. What're you doing?'

'Driving past. Saw the cars. What's going on?'

'Ah, this is a bad one. Looks like some kind of s.h.i.tfight gone really wrong.'

'Is it Tammy?' I asked.

'Who?'

'The girl, is her name Tammy?'

'Nah, his name's Justin Quinn. About sixteen. Know him?'

I scanned my memory for the names I'd crossed over the past few days but drew a blank. A sense of relief settled on me. 'No,' I said. 'Stabbing?'

'Sort of. Somebody slit his throat. The pathologist says the guy cut him so deep it almost severed his spinal cord.'

Instinctively I touched my throat, feeling guilty for having been relieved. I was glad to be in the car, not over there.

'Are you okay?' I said.

'Sure.' She attempted a smile but even from this distance I could see she wasn't good. 'Humans are the worst animals, you know?'

I nodded. 'You don't look so flash.'

'The heat's killing me, 'scuse the pun. Call me a sook, but I don't know how much more I can hack. Did you see the blood sunset last night?'

'Yeah.'

'Probably be another one tonight,' she said. 'Everyone's going troppo, know what I mean?'

She was right. The city was losing it.

'How's it looking with witnesses?' I asked.

'Same old story. Plenty of people around but n.o.body saw a thing.' Ca.s.sie ran a hand through her hair. 'Strange thing is, the pathologist thinks the kid's been dead since late last night, but it wasn't called in until this morning when two hookers tripped over the body. I questioned them and I don't think they saw anything.'

That explained the absence of hookers and junkies on the street. They were probably either being interviewed back at the station or were holed up somewhere, scared s.h.i.tless.

'Maybe this time they're telling the truth,' I said.

'Well, whoever did this was quick and quiet.'

'And vicious. What about motive?'

'We're thinking drug related; a rip-off or payback. Kid's wallet was emptied, pockets turned out. Known meth-head and the hookers said he sold dodgy gear every other day. Not exactly a protected species.'

Her explanation made sense, but there were gaps. I wished I had a picture of the boy; anything to rule out a link with Dallas Boyd.

'Look, I gotta go,' she said, blocking an ear against the noise of the helicopters. 'I'm supposed to be meeting Mark down at the foresh.o.r.e.'

'Finetti?'

'Yeah, he's on foot patrol for the festival. Wants to talk to me about you you no less. What's the story, Rubes?' no less. What's the story, Rubes?'

This concerned me. What did Finetti have to say to Ca.s.sie? We'd made a deal but it hadn't included anyone else.

'There's no story. Just stay out of whatever Finetti's got planned. This is between him and me, not you.'

'What kind of s.h.i.t is that, McCauley? You really p.i.s.s me off sometimes. It's all right for you to expect everyone to be open and transparent, but when the shoe's on the other foot it's a different story. What the h.e.l.l's going on with you and Mark?'

'Look, I'll tell you when the time's ' I stopped when I saw Ben Eckles pull up across the road in an unmarked sedan, blocking her from my view.

'Now I've really gotta go,' Ca.s.sie said, her tone flat and tired. 'Here's the boss.'

I punched Will Novak's number into my mobile phone. I needed to find Tammy, and Novak would know where to start. The phone nearly rang out before he answered.

'Afternoon, Will. Rubens McCauley here,' I said. 'Did I wake you up?'

'Very funny. Nah, I was outside with a client when I heard the phone ringing and had to run inside. What's up?'

'I need to find Dallas Boyd's girlfriend.'

'Girlfriend?'

'Her name's Tammy, I think. Blonde, maybe eighteen years old. Cute but rough, if you get my drift. She works the stroll, maybe up on Barkly.'

'So go up to Barkly,' he said. 'She'll definitely be working today. The festival's in full swing there'll be thousands of perverts instead of hundreds.'

'She's not working today. n.o.body is.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' he said.

'Well, that's why I'm calling. I need an address.'

'Excuse me?'

'I need her address. Surely you know where she lives.'

'Well, actually I don't. She's not a client of mine.'

'Not yet.'

Novak breathed out heavily into the phone. 'Look, I don't know where she lives.'

'I think you're going to want to know what's going on. And it's not something I want to discuss on the phone.'

Novak hesitated before replying. 'Ah, sure, give me about five minutes.'

I drove to the hostel, double-parked and waited a few minutes before Novak came out. He was dressed in a pair of sandals, board shorts and a pink polo shirt, a day's worth of stubble surrounding his neatly trimmed goatee.

'What's happening?' he said.

'If you can get me an address for Dallas Boyd's girlfriend, I'll fill you in.'

'I told you, I don't know where she lives.'

I pointed at the hostel. 'Ask your clients. Someone will know.'

Novak nodded uneasily and hurried off. I wound the window up and turned on the air conditioner. A tram rolled by, full of pa.s.sengers on their way to the festival. I wondered how many had seen the crime scene at Talbot Reserve. What a welcome party.

A few minutes later Novak appeared with a Post-it note in his hand. 'Got an address,' he said when I wound down the window. 'Not as easy as you might think though. Whatever's going on around here has them all spooked. I had to bulls.h.i.t one of the kids about Tammy and tell him I had a cheque for her. You wanna fill me in?'