Garry Disher - Two-Way Cut

But then the empty landscape wasn’t so empty and she heard the soft growl of approaching tyres, a blue Magna coming in behind the Range Rover. It was fitted with aerials and tinted windows and Leah realised where shed seen it before: the shopping-centre the previous afternoon. The Magna came closer. Tatts and Moustache saw it and Moustache quickly shoved the shotgun in through the open side window of the Range Rover. Tatts gestured, smiling broadly, waving the driver on. Its okay, he called, all under control, no ones hurt.

The Magna idled.

A car appeared from the opposite direction, towing a caravan. The driver slowed. Tatts waved him on, less patient now, more desperate. Its okay, he called, nothing to worry about.

If you’re sure? the driver said.

Yes!

When the car was gone a truck appeared. Tatts and Moustache waved it on. It was clear they were losing control of the situation, so Leah shouted, Look, its over, okay? Leave us alone. Head on back to Melbourne.

She saw them confer, distractedly waving on a farm pickup and then a school bus. Finally Moustache turned and fixed Leah and Tess with a quivering finger, shouting, If we see you two again, you’re history, understand?

Oh, tough guy, Tess shouted back.

Leah elbowed her. Shut up, for Gods sake.

When the Range Rover was gone, the driver of the Magna emerged. Leah saw a tall, sandy-haired man with a quizzical face. He was casually dressed in trousers and a short-sleeved shirt, a heavy-looking watch on his wrist.

Leah began to back away. I saw you at the cottage this morning. Who are you? What do you want?

He ignored the questions. Why were they waving a shottie at you?

Leah froze. Shottie was a cop word for shotgun. I asked you who you were.

The man held up both hands. He had to shout over the sound of an approaching truck loaded with hay. I tried to tell you earlier but you ran off. I’m a private detective.

Did you shoot that other man?

Had to.

Why?

He was going to kill both of you. Hop in the car and lets get out of here.

But Leah wouldn’t budge. I saw your car in Leighton Wells yesterday. You’ve been following me or us.

The man gestured impatiently at the truck to wave it on. Look, lets get out of here before were knee deep in helpful strangers.

Not till you tell us why you’re following us.

The man sighed. Tess, he said. Following Tess. Ive been hired by her school to bring her back.

He gestured them into the back of the car, saying, Theres no room in the front.

Leah saw that that was true. The front passenger seat and dash area was crowded with a laptop, probably for wireless messaging and making notes, CB radio, mobile phone, police scanner, and three vinyl and hard-shell bags that would probably contain a digital camera, a camcorder and a cassette recorder. The car was also fitted with a satellite navigation system, and an Esky sat in the footwell. There was even a plastic container, mercifully empty. Leah knew from her own experience that surveillance work often meant being cooped up in a car for hours with nowhere to pee. The work of private detectives was mostly routine and boring. They did everyday legwork for lawyers and insurance companies, taking statements, checking records, finding witnesses. They secretly filmed workers compensation claimants and cheating husbands and wives. They spent a large proportion of their time in front of a computer screen or in a car, which was like a mobile office.

The modern detective at work, she said.

The man appeared briefly perplexed, then realized what she was looking at and his face cleared. Yeah.

I’m Leah. You know who Tess is.

He nodded. She waited, watching him start the car, glance in the mirror and accelerate away. Finally she said, Do you have a name?

What? Sure. Theo Reed.

Don’t think Ive ever met a Theo before.

He shrugged, eyes fixed on the road. Guess its not that common.

Have you got ID? You are who you say you are?

In answer he fished inside his jacket, pulled out a thick envelope and passed it over his shoulder to Leah. Inside she found several A4-size pages stapled together. It was a contract between Penleigh Hall Church of England Girls Grammar School and Abbott Investigations Ltd., and countersigned by Dr Susan Heyward for the school and George Abbott for the company.

The school hired you, not the parents? Isn’t that unusual?

Reed shrugged. You’ll have to talk to the office about that.

Leah returned the contract to Reed. George Abbott is your boss?

Correct.

Are you going to tell him you’ve found Tess?

Already have, said Reed. Text messaged him on the mobile last night, once Id found the cottage, and again just now, before getting out of the car.

Tess seemed agitated. Are you taking me back to school?

Yes.

I wont go. You cant make me.

Leah joined in. Tess has good reasons not to return to that school.

Theo took his hands off the wheel briefly as if to say, Well, what can I do about it? All I know is what I was hired to do. He paused. Legally the schools got a duty of care. Anyway, shell be safer there than out here with guys trying to kill her.

Leah sat back in her seat and gazed at the endless struggling crops beyond the sagging fencelines. She said, Look, were glad you came along when you did, but much as I hate to say this, its time we involved the police.

No! Tess said.

No, Theo Reed said.

But you shot a guy, Leah said. The farmers probably already found him, and the bike. Hell report it for sure.

Theo turned and flashed her a look before watching the road again. Did you pay cash for the accommodation?

Yes.

Did you give him your real names?

Of course not.

Is the panel van registered in your name?

No.

Then you have nothing to worry about.

Except a massive manhunt, which is bound to happen if they decide theres a connection between the body and the crashed van. And what if someone saw us get into this car?

They didn’t. The road was clear at that point.

But someone will remember those guys in the Range Rover, and seeing a blue Magna parked nearby.

They’ll remember the Range Rover and those two thugs, thats all. This car is pretty anonymous.

Leah shook her head. She was well acquainted with the flexible standards of private detectives. Many of them were ex-cops, and knew all the tricks. Many of them were crooked. But maybe she and Tess needed a man with Theos standards right now. Hed saved their lives and could take them to safety without involving the police.

The man you shot back at the farm. Who was he?

No idea.

You followed him?

Kind of. I was following you, and noticed that he was also following you. He didn’t spot me.

Leah thought about that as she watched a phone line dip and rise, dip and rise, between poles alongside the road. Birds on a wire. The dead man was after me, she thought, not Tess. Tess had goons after her, I hador havepissed-off cops.

So it would be wise not to bring in the police.

They rode in silence, lulled by the movement of the car. Tess was biting the inside of her cheek, now and then chewing her nails. She said, Leah, I don’t want to go back.

Leah reached out and folded her hand over Tess’s. I know.

You cant make me.

Well think of something.

You cant make me go back to that place.

Leah felt immensely tired. She felt safe now, but not rested, and knew that nothing was finished until things had been settled for Tess—and that meant more work, and time, and concentration, and anxiety.

She stared out of the window, then at the back of Theo’s head. Theo, who do you report to?

My boss.