Alex Palmer - Blood Redemption

Stephen did not reply.

‘You say you don’t know where she’s gone,’ Trevor said. ‘Do you know of a Preacher Graeme Fredericksen?’

‘I don’t think she’s gone to see him.’

‘You do know him then?’ Trevor asked.

‘Yeah, I’ve met him. Sleazy creepy little bastard.’

A pity your sister didn’t see him that way, Harrigan thought.

‘Why do you say she won’t be there?’ Ian asked.

‘Because I went looking for her there once. The day those people got shot. That afternoon,’ Stephen replied. ‘He said she wasn’t there but he was lying, I’m sure he was. I went back and found her later that night. She was a mess, she looked so sick. I don’t know what happened but I think ….’ He stopped and swallowed. ‘I know it seems like a mad thing to say but I wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t tried to kill her or something. She doesn’t trust him now. I’ve heard her talking to him on the phone sometimes — ’

‘She’s phoned him?’

‘Yeah, quite a few times. Or he’s phoned her. At least I think it’s him. Graeme. Who else would it be? I don’t know what’s going on.

That’s the honest truth.’

‘Do you mind if I ask a question — Ian, Trevor? Do you mind, Mr Hurst?’ Harrigan asked, quietly neutral as usual, pulling back a chair.

‘No,’ Stephen said, shaking his head, reaching for another cigarette.

‘Your sister was a mess, you say, when you found her that night.

Did you ask her why she was in such a mess?’

‘No.’

‘You didn’t ask her any questions?’

‘I never ask Lucy questions. I haven’t for years.’

‘Your family ask a lot from you, Mr Hurst. Money. A car. All night out on the streets looking for your sister.’

‘It’s not only me. Ask Mel, they drink her blood too. Used to anyway, not any more.’

‘I notice you walk with a limp, Mr Hurst.’

‘I broke my kneecap when I was fifteen. It never healed properly.’

‘Did your father do that to you?’ Harrigan asked out of pure guesswork.

Stephen did not reply.

‘When did you realise your sister was a murderer?’

‘I didn’t know. You wouldn’t think that sort of thing about your sister. I didn’t know till this morning when she was leaving.’

‘Then why give her money and a car? Did you see something in yesterday’s newspaper that alerted you perhaps?’

‘I didn’t know.’

‘You did know. Why didn’t you do something?’

Stephen Hurst leaned his face on his hands, pushing his glasses awry. His cigarette dangled from his fingers. When he looked up, Harrigan saw that the edge of one side of his glasses had impressed a mark under his eye. The boy smiled bitterly.

‘I didn’t know. All I’m trying to do is keep things turning over here so Mel and me can walk away from this in one piece. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me? I don’t see what I can give you.’

‘I want to find your sister before anyone else gets added to the list of the injured and the dead, Mr Hurst. At the moment, I have more people on that list than I care for.’

‘I don’t know where she is. If I knew I would have told you that first thing.’

He drew on his cigarette again. Harrigan was pushing back his chair, standing up.

‘My officers will take your statement now. Thank you.’

‘You do that, do you? Come around and ask people those kinds of questions and then go away again,’ Stephen Hurst said, almost to himself, grinding out his cigarette.

‘No, Mr Hurst. I’m the one who has to cover all the angles regardless, because if I don’t, then I can’t do my job,’ Harrigan replied.

He walked out into the hallway in time to see Grace leaving a room, closing the door softly behind her. He smiled at her, she smiled back.

‘How did you go with the mother?’ he asked.

‘Listen to this,’ she replied quietly.

He listened at the door and heard the sound of a television set.

‘She’s got a portable in there,’ Grace said. ‘That’s what she wanted.

Tea, toast and the television set. Talking to her is like talking to nothing, she stares back at you like she’s a baby chicken. I think she made sure she had no idea what was going on.’

‘What about the girl?’

‘She’s out of it, the doctor’s given her a shot. She’s exhausted. I don’t think she would have had the time to know what was happening. Neither of them can tell us anything.’

‘Par for the course,’ he said, ‘no one here can. She’s given me the slip, Grace, by thirty minutes.’

‘What do you want me to do now?’

‘I don’t think there is much more you can do here. Do you want to take a cigarette break? Catch up with me a little later.’

‘Okay.’

Grace went and stood out on the edge of the ruined garden but did not light a cigarette, letting the cold air shift the odour of the house out of her nostrils. She braced her hands behind her head and felt the strength of the gathering wind. It was strong and icy and pushed her back as she turned from side to side, loosening the muscles in her neck and spine. A bank of black cloud was continuing to build on the horizon. On its patch of ground above the trees the house stood exposed before the full force of the weather.

The garden on the slope just below had already been searched and was not cordoned off. Grace walked down into the green shade, picking her way along the muddy paths. Dead flowers littered the ground, old rhododendron trees and camellias were massed together.

At the base of the slope, an ancient and decaying sleep-out stood near the edge of an escarpment. The door was open like a mouth. Grace looked inside but did not go in. The room was dark and smelled like a cave of moist earth and the windows were covered with cobwebs.

Are you in there? There could be no one in there, the area had been searched. The waiting quietness of the shadows felt like a trap about to close. Grace turned away to look out over the native forest in the national park and then heard a soft growl behind her. She looked and saw an ancient dog in the doorway to the sleep-out, snarling at her from the shadows.

‘You horrible mongrel,’ she said softly, ‘you don’t have to protect her now, she’s gone. I wouldn’t go in there anyway.’

The dog growled more loudly, more savagely. It moved forward, herding her towards the escarpment.

‘Go away. You don’t frighten me.’

The dog stood its ground, grinning yellow teeth. It moved forward again. Grace stood still where she was and then took a step to the side, towards the path to the house, staring it in the eyes.

‘You stay there, you just stay there.’

It was braced on its claws but as she moved slowly away it stayed still, watching her off. When she gained the pathway, she saw it relax its stance and then disappear back into the sleep-out. Grace walked back up the hill quickly, thinking that this was no place to be, it was dangerous, full of trapdoors and tripwires. No one would want to live here.

She found Harrigan in the hallway near the door to the lounge room, talking to Ian and Trevor. He signalled to her to join them, the others looked at her speculatively. Avoiding their joint gaze, she glanced through to the lounge room where a forensic team was working on the ruined television set.

‘There you are,’ he said, following her line of vision and then looking back at her again. ‘We’ve been tossing a few ideas around.

We’re shadow boxing with her so I’m going to make her dance for us a little. Do you want to talk to her?’

‘Out there in cyberspace, you mean? Is she still out there?’

‘Why don’t we find out? Why don’t you send her an email — give her Greggie’s last message. Quote it word for word. That’s what he wanted you to do.’