Blood Sunset Part 23

She didn't reply and we left her in the doorway, hugging herself as though it were cold. I looked back on the stairs and our eyes met. Hers were wild and alert now and the smile had gone. The cynic in me said she just needed another hit, but I saw genuine grief there too. This was the human element. Death didn't care about money. It hurt everyone, rich and poor. I just nodded to her. There was nothing else I could do.

22.

IT WAS FOUR THIRTY BY NOW and the festival crowd was at full peak. The Acland Street intersection was packed with families and daytrippers either pounding the pavement or spilling out of the trams. and the festival crowd was at full peak. The Acland Street intersection was packed with families and daytrippers either pounding the pavement or spilling out of the trams.

I stopped outside the hostel and waited for Novak to get out, then saw someone pull out and decided to leave my car there.

'You're going there now, aren't you?' said Novak. 'To the squat?'

I nodded. 'Sparks left a message on Dall's answering machine. I think he knows something.'

Tears welled in Novak's eyes. He wiped them with his hand and looked across the O'Donnell Gardens to the cafe Dallas Boyd had died behind.

'I had no idea Dall was into any of that ... that filth filth. Just when you think you know someone, bang, out pops a secret that floors you.'

'Yeah, that came out of left field for me too,' I said. 'There was no way we could've seen that coming. Like Tammy said, he kept it quiet.'

'You know something?' said Novak. 'I've never let these kids fool me into thinking they're angels, because they're not. They lie, they cheat, they hurt people. But if you give them a chance you can build a rapport with them and eventually they trust you. If they trust you, then you can help them. I figured as long as I had that att.i.tude, I'd never have the wool pulled over my eyes. But this has got me stumped. I thought Dall told me everything. I thought he trusted me.'

'Everyone has secrets,' I said, fishing the key to Dallas Boyd's apartment out of the glove box and handing it to him. 'Thank you, Will. It's not every day I get this kind of help.'

'Not every day a kid like Dall gets killed. Well, maybe that's not true any more, not with this other boy dead.' Novak let out a long sigh. 'What the h.e.l.l's wrong with this place?'

'Sometimes I ask myself the same question.'

'Yeah, well, I hope you find the son of a b.i.t.c.h, nail his hands to the front of Luna Park, let every street kid in St Kilda come down and kick the s.h.i.t out of him.'

'Hey,' I said, 'when all this is over, maybe we can catch up for a beer sometime.'

'Sure, I'd like that. Maybe I'll ask my brother to come along too. He always asks about you. How's the apartment going, by the way?'

'Ah, you know, same old story. Too small, but it's close to all the action. I don't think I'll ever get out of there.'

'And Ella, how's she? Still over in Carlton?'

'Yeah, she's doing well, mate. Listen, what say I give you a call tomorrow, let you know how it's going with the case? Maybe then we'll put a time together for a beer?'

'Sounds good, I'd appreciate that. Thanks again. You take it easy.'

I slid the capsic.u.m spray in my pocket then pushed my way through the crowd, past McDonald's where herds of parents lined up to buy their children food. A cacophony of adults shouting and kids screaming meshed with the smell of frying fat. I made my way towards Clyde Street, a quiet lane shaded by elm trees and lined with European cars parked outside renovated homes that had made many of the local real estate agents filthy rich. In the middle of them all I found what I was looking for: a run-down cottage surrounded by overgrown weeds, with windows boarded over with plywood and corrugated iron. Across the front of the house somebody had spraypainted The Apocalypse is Coming The Apocalypse is Coming. I wondered whether it had been written by somebody who lived there or by one of the developers who valued these properties as much as the homeless.

I crept up a gravel drive and stopped at a rock wall beside the house that had probably once been draped with azaleas or home to a fernery. All that was there now were a scattering of syringes, rubbish and an old sprinkler system. The thing I hated most about squats was that there were no clear entries. The doors and windows were always boarded up and the only way in was usually through a vent or a makeshift manhole that the residents had created. And you never knew what fruitcakes would be inside. Being on my own only made it worse.

I knocked hard on the side of the house and a dog barked on the other side of the wall.

'Sparks, you in there, mate?' I called out. The dog barked again and I heard it trot across the floorboards. 'Anyone home?'

'What ya want?' came a reply.

'Lookin' for Sparks,' I said, putting on my best junkie voice. 'Is that you, mate? I gotta fix ya up with some cash.'

I wasn't sure whether Sparks was the person yelling back at me, or if he was even inside, but whoever it was, I knew the offer of money would bring them out. I took out the capsic.u.m spray and shook it, ready to dose the dog or any other feral that came for me. I heard the sliding of timber and a lean figure slid out of a lower window. It wasn't Sparks, but I recognised the stringy hair and rat-like face from the wall of pictures in the watch-house mess room. I hid behind a rotten fence and steadied myself with the pepper can as he shuffled down the drive.

'Boo,' I said, stepping out with my badge case open. 'Where's Sparks?'

His hooded eyes were heavily glazed but he quickly took in the badge and the spray in my other hand.

'Ah, ya p.r.i.c.k. Tricked me.'

'Fell for the oldest one in the book, old son. No money today, I'm afraid, but there's a few smokes in it for you.' I put the badge away and opened my cigarette pack. 'Real smokes too. None of this roll-your-own s.h.i.t.'

He made a grab for the pack but I pulled back. 'Where is he first? Inside?'

'Nup.'

'Then where?' I said, shaking the pack in front of him. 'No one else has to know.'

'At the beach,' he said curtly. 'Foresh.o.r.e.'

I quickly computed this. Half a million people in St Kilda. Thirty-five degrees. Half of them at the beach. A needle in a haystack.

'Where at the beach? Does he have a mobile?' at the beach? Does he have a mobile?'

The man shrugged, eyes still on the smokes. I gave him a handful and walked off. There was no way I could do this alone. I rang Ca.s.sie and arranged to meet her at the foresh.o.r.e playground.

'I'll be with Mark,' she said. 'That okay with you?'

'Finetti? What's he still hanging around for?'

'He's on foot patrol, looking for someone. Apparently you guys cut a deal.'

I cursed under my breath. I'd asked Finetti to find Sparks for me and keep him under wraps so I could question him without anyone knowing. Naturally, part of the deal was that he didn't talk about it.

'You want to fill me in now?' she said.

'Not really.'

'Then I'm not meeting you. Whoever it is you want to find, you can do it yourself.'

'Wait,' I said, catching her before she ended the call. 'We did have a deal. I just wanted Finetti to find this kid for me but he obviously hasn't kept his end of the bargain.'

'Ruby, you know how many people are down here today?'

'Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry.'

'Sorry for what keeping secrets or being unreasonable?'

'Look, just meet me and I'll explain. Ten minutes.'

'Fine.'

I ended the call, knowing I'd messed up. Once again I'd broken the cardinal rule between partners. I was rehearsing my explanation to Ca.s.sie when I noticed an overweight transvest.i.te in a red dress watching me. Another newcomer. Sometimes it seemed there was one every week. I walked past him and headed back into the crowd, where it took over five minutes just to pa.s.s Luna Park. At the entrance, high-pitched laughter from a thousand children screamed out at me, as if the park itself were alive. It reminded me of the first time I'd ever been there as a child, when my family came to Melbourne and stayed with relatives. I remembered the ghost train and dodgem cars, how a girl threw up inside the spinning gravitron. I remembered my mother buying us fairy floss and ice cream. The only other time I'd visited Luna Park was with Dad, years later, when we travelled to Melbourne to look for Jacko.

As I waited at the traffic lights, I looked back at the O'Donnell Gardens and the rear of Cafe Vit where Dallas Boyd had been dumped. For the first time I considered the paedophile angle as a possibility. Tammy York had said Dallas was involved with a paedophile crew, helping them find kids for p.o.r.n movies and selling copies on the side. It made sense on one level but not on another. Sure, he needed money and selling p.o.r.n was one way to get it. The way he probably saw it, if he didn't make money out of it, then somebody else would. So why not?

Rachel was why not. Why would he get so involved with rock spiders when his own sister, someone he loved, had been molested? Maybe he didn't see the connection; or maybe he did and that was why he'd wanted to get her out of the commission flats. Then there was another possibility, one I didn't want to consider but had to. Maybe Dallas Boyd wanted to get custody of his little sister so he could put her to work and collect another finder's fee. was why not. Why would he get so involved with rock spiders when his own sister, someone he loved, had been molested? Maybe he didn't see the connection; or maybe he did and that was why he'd wanted to get her out of the commission flats. Then there was another possibility, one I didn't want to consider but had to. Maybe Dallas Boyd wanted to get custody of his little sister so he could put her to work and collect another finder's fee.

Whichever way I looked at it, I was completely at a loss with establishing a motive. Being part of a spider web would've left Boyd wide open to any number of people wanting him dead. A victim after revenge? An angry parent? A rival hustler? Aggrieved customer? I also considered the location. Did it mean something? Was it chosen for reasons other than the pragmatic? A warning to others? I let some ideas roll around but nothing surfaced. It was too hot, too crowded, and I needed more information.

At the foresh.o.r.e, an outdoor stage rose into the air. A DJ stood above the crowd bent over a set of turntables. Electro music vibrated around me like an underground heartbeat. Doof-doof, doof-doof. Doof-doof, doof-doof. Everywhere I looked, people were dancing on the gra.s.s, on picnic tables, across the sand, on each other's shoulders, even in the water. Everywhere I looked, people were dancing on the gra.s.s, on picnic tables, across the sand, on each other's shoulders, even in the water.

I spotted Ca.s.sie at the edge of the bike track. She was in a tank top and cargo shorts, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

She started when I tapped her on the shoulder, then spoke into a mike. 'He's here. Give us five.'

She turned to me. 'Are you going to keep doing this?' she said, unsmiling.

'What?'

'You know exactly what. You're running your own show and shutting me out. You need to start trusting me. I can't be your partner if you don't trust me.'

I looked away, embarra.s.sed. We sounded like lovers having a fight.

'I do trust you.'

'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks! First off, you lied to me yesterday when you told me you were going home after the morgue. You never went home. You went and roughed up Boyd's stepfather.'

'How did you ' I stopped when I realised. 'Eckles knows, doesn't he?'

'You bet he does. The hommies arrested Vincent Rowe and kept him in the box all night. Finally kicked him loose about four hours ago, but not before he'd told them all about your little visit, know what I mean?'

I laced my hands behind my head, p.i.s.sed off they'd found out so quickly.

'Come six o'clock this morning, Eckles is hopping mad,' Ca.s.sie continued. 'Dragged me into his office, threatened me with suspension till he realised I wasn't there with you. Seems you made quite an impression. Good enough for this s.h.i.thead to file a nine-eighteen on you.'

I looked up at the sky, let the sun sting my eyes. A nine-eighteen was the numerical code for an ESD complaint form.

'Why are you being so stupid?' she said. 'Next time you get backed into a corner, let me know about it. We're supposed to be a team. A partnership.'

'I know. I'm sorry.'

'What, that's it? You're sorry sorry?'

'It won't happen again, Ca.s.s. I haven't included you because I don't want you in the s.h.i.t with me. Finetti's fair game he asked for this when he sold me out but you're different. You've got a clean sheet and I'm not about to spoil that.'

'Screw that, McCauley. We're partners and that means more than just working together. It means we trust each other, rely on each other. So don't tell me to just sit back and watch you do all this on your own.'

'Okay, okay!' I said. 'Where the h.e.l.l is Finetti?'

She pointed towards the marina. 'On foot, with Kim, heading that-a-way. We got a few calls from the car park. Thieves everywhere.'

I followed her line of sight and realised what she meant. All of St Kilda had been blockaded due to the festival and the closest car park was beyond the marina, a good kilometre away. It wouldn't take long for the local s.h.i.theads to work it out.

'Let's do it,' I said.

We headed off past the marina where the millionaires kept their Bertram Sunseekers and Moonrakers, one of which I was sure had never been out to sea.

'You guys out there?' chirped the radio. I recognised Finetti's voice.

'Two up,' Ca.s.sie said. 'The marina. What's up?'

'We got your man.'

I felt a charge of adrenaline.

'You got him?' Ca.s.sie repeated. 'Where?'

'Car park, like we figured. Coming equipped. d.i.c.khead even had a jemmy on him.'

'Nice one! See you soon.'

We clattered down the stairs to the parking lot. Under a palm tree about thirty metres away, Kim Pendlebury held Stuart Parks with his hands cuffed in front of him. Built like a battleaxe, Kim had arms and hands that could crush the average man, let alone a skinny runt like Sparks.

'Wagging school today, Ruby?' Mark Finetti said, clearly nervous since our last encounter.

'Got a day pa.s.s from the couch,' I said. 'Dr Eckles can get rooted. So what's the go?'

'You tell me. We put the bracelets on this kid and he starts saying he's got something for you.'

'Me?'

'Yeah, says he'll only talk to you you.'