Garry Disher - Two-Way Cut

They grinned, still advancing on her. She said, Are you going to kill me?

Allynson gave her a look of mock surprise. Why? Do you deserve to die? What do you think, Rob? Does she deserve to die?

Well, Summers replied, a mate of ours offed himself because of the filthy stuff she spread about him, ruining his name and his career, so an eye for an eye sounds fair enough to me.

Fair enough to me, too, Allynson said, and he lunged.

At first Allynson and Summers played with Leah, shoving her between them to keep her off balance. One man would slap her face, the other punch her in the stomach—not with any force, but with contempt. Then Summers fondled her painfully and Allynson ripped her shirt at the neck. She fought back, kicking, punching, scratching, ducking and weaving, but they were too big, too solid, too close to her.

When the shot came, Leah expected pain, a punching impact, a sensation of the bullet tearing through her flesh, tendons, bones. Instead, Allynsons neck erupted and his heavy frame was propelled against her. He must have moved into the line of fire at the last moment, his hands reaching for her. He tried to turn, spraying her with blood. He toppled, some of the light leaking from his eyes, then fell to his knees, taking her with him.

She didn’t know why Summers had shot him. She crawled out from under Allynsons massive weight, intending to shelter under the desk, but heard him whisper, Help me. He was bleeding profusely. She tore off her ruined shirt, packed his wound with it, then used her belt to bind it in place. She was splashed with blood now, sticky with it, her hands and knees sliding on the polished floorboards.

Meanwhile she was dimly aware of shouts and movement above her head and all around the room. She tried to map the movements with her ears, not daring to look up and invite eye contact and another shot. She could hear several people. Suddenly Summers was on the floor with her, frightened, bewildered. No gun. Dimly she realised that it wasn’t Summers who’d shot Allynson.

Then some of the shouts resolved themselves, became coherent, orderly. Police! voices said. On the floor! Now! Hands behind your heads!

Leah couldn’t get up. Somehow shed got Allynsons head in her lap. She put pressure on the bandage, wiped his ashen face, and tried to transmit something essentially human and compassionate to his frightened eyes. And she stayed there until other hands prized hers away from Allynson and ambulance officers took him away. Kind arms helped her to her feet and Jill was saying gently, Leah, everythings okay, everythings okay.

It was evening now and they were sitting in the kitchen, a costly room fitted with granite benchtops, teak panelling, copper and stainless steel saucepans hanging from hooks. The table and chairs were the only welcoming objects in the entire room, Leah thought, as she sat hunched over a mug of tea, staring at the wooden table top and years of scars and scratches. She glanced across at Tess, who was chewing at her thumbnail, her face tense. But Tess had also matured in the past few hours. Leah could see resolve in her face, and signs of a furious internal accounting. An old expression popped into Leah’s head: Wake up to yourself. Well, thats what Tess seemed to be doing.

Tess caught Leah’s glance and sat upright, shoving both hands into her lap and arranging a grin. Bad habit, chewing your nails.

It seemed to be a way of saying that shed identified another flaw in herself and would deal with it. A thumping sound came from the study along the hallway. The crime-scene technicians were still in there, taking photographs, videotaping, dusting for fingerprints, diagramming blood spatters and gunshot trajectories. Allynson was in hospital. He was expected to live.

Summers was in custody.

So was Carl Stannage. He’d been questioned in relation to the arrest of the men in the Range Rover, and when he’d denied knowing them or owning the vehicle, and called in his lawyer, the police had placed him under surveillance. Instead of staying put, he’d come gunning for Tess, and walked in on the scene in the study. He’d thought Leah was Tess, fired at her, and hit Allynson instead. But by then the police were pouring into the house after him.

I’m sorry I got you into all this, Tess said.

Leah nodded. She wasn’t about to absolve Tess. The younger woman had a long period of questioning and adjustment ahead of her. She had to take responsibility for her actions and their consequences. After that she could start to feel better about herself.

Am I in trouble?

With the police?

Yes.

Leah shrugged. You should be. You were selling drugs.

The old Tess would have brought an armoury of responses to that accusation: indignation, buck-passing, denial, putting a favourable gloss on it. The new Tess nodded and said, I know.

Leah went on: But you were under the sway of Mitch, and people were trying to kill youa notorious drug dealer and his crew, and your own half-brother. I don’t think the police will charge you with anything, but youll probably have to give evidence in court.

Tess nodded again. She rubbed her wrists, which were red and raw.

Are you okay?

A bit sore.

Shed been bound hand and foot by her brother and stuffed into the boot of his car. Police had intercepted the Saab on the South Gippsland Highway. He’d been heading for an area of swampland and drainage channels near Koo Wee Rup.

You were lucky.

Don’t know how he thought he’d get away with it, Tess said.

Your brother was panicking, not thinking clearly, Leah said. You were the last person he expected to see this afternoon, and when you told him that wed caught his hired killer, he just lost control.

Tess nodded. When he was tying me up he said it wasn’t personal but he needed my share of the inheritance. He said he’d gambled away his entire share and owed a lot of money to bookmakers and loan sharks, who were threatening to break his legs and burn him alive. Five hundred thousand dollars, gone poof!

Leah brooded on that, a young guy desperate and afraid enough to murder his half-sister. If he hadn’t lost all of his money, if he hadn’t been afraid, then he’d have led a blameless life. But life was one big if-only. If only I hadn’t joined the police force. If only I hadn’t reported Allynson and his crew.

She drank her coffee. There was an answering machine connected to the kitchen phone and it was blinking madly. Every now and then the phone would ring and the machine would take the message. Leah had turned the volume down, but not off, so they could screen the calls. The media, mainly, and George Abbott, and Dr Heyward, briskly apologetic and asking Tess to consider coming back.

No way am I going back to that school, Tess said.

What will you do?

My gran in Adelaides coming to get me, my mothers mother, Tess said, and described a kind, strong, principled woman. Shes taken me in before.

How long will you stay?

In a low, fierce voice, Tess said, I don’t want to go back to Penleigh, I don’t want to go to another boarding-school. When Mum comes back from India, I don’t want to live with her. I’m going to live with Gran and go to school in Adelaide. Maybe go to university. Thats what I want.

I think thats great, Leah said, then paused. You should probably ring your mother.

No. The police can do that. What about you?

What about me?

Tess grasped Leah’s wrist, suddenly needy. Will you stay here with me tonight?

Of course.

There was a pause. Leah?

Yes?

Can we, you know…

Stay in touch?

Yeah. Can we? Would that be okay?

Of course, Leah said, and realised that she meant it.

Tess relaxed. They told me you saved someones life. Someone who wanted to hurt you. I mean, God.