I didn’t know what hospital Cyn would be in and with family gathering round it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be there anyway. I was tired and somewhat dispirited. Ramsay Hewitt’s abrupt departure had closed off an avenue of enquiry. I doubted whether Geoff had picked up anything useful at the protest site. It was possible and that it had been put out of his mind by his mother’s crisis, but it seemed unlikely. If I’d had the manpower I might’ve staked out Dr Macleod’s compound to see if Talbot turned up there, but I didn’t, and there was no real reason to think he would.
I checked on Tess again, followed her instructions about the key and left the house. There was nothing for me to do but go home. I felt sober, very sober, but I might have been over the limit. I thought back over what I’d eaten and drunk in the past few hours and decided it was line ball. I drove sedately and caught a late night news bulletin on the way. The police were still hunting what the media were now calling ‘the Tadpole Creek Killer’. I was working at the centre of one of the city’s major news items but felt that I was on the sidelines with no chance of getting into the game.
I turned into my street and cursed when I saw that my usual parking space outside the house was occupied by another car. Inner city dwellers tend to establish conventions and protocols about these things and it was rare for one of the other residents to pinch my spot. The occasional visitor or Glebe diner-out offends, but they were usually gone by this time. I parked further down the street and walked back with the gun in its holster under my jacket.
As I approached the house a woman came out of my neighbour’s place and walked smartly towards the red hatchback parked in what I considered my spot. I stopped and watched her and she stopped and looked at me. I guessed I must’ve looked threatening at that time of night with the experience of the last few hours showing on my face and a suspicious package under my arm
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I live next door to Clive. My name’s Hardy. We’re mates.’
Relief was apparent in every muscle in her body. ‘Oh, the private detective. Clive’s told me about you. Oh God, I’ve taken your space.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I won’t shoot you.’
She laughed. ‘I should hope not. Sorry again. There was a van pulling out from here when I arrived. I didn’t know it was your spot.’
‘Only by convention,’ I said. ‘First come, first served really.’
‘Well, I’ll be off. Goodnight, Mr Hardy.’
‘Goodnight.’ I stood, debating whether to move my car as she pulled neatly away and drove off. Clive is a taxi driver and we both keep irregular hours and live alone. The woman who’d left was thirtyish, about Clive’s age, and attractive. Good luck to you, I thought. And good luck to me, too. I’d decided to leave the car where it was when I saw Clive standing at his gate and beckoning to me.
I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but I was always ready to give Clive the time of day or more usually, night.
‘Gidday, Clive.’
‘Cliff. Look, it’s probably nothing, but there was a strange-looking van parked outside your place briefly when Sally arrived. I didn’t think anything of it at first. You’ve had that other young bloke staying. Thought it must’ve been to do with something you’re working on. But he gave me a funny look and drove off like a hoon.’
‘What d’you mean, strange looking?’
‘All colours of the rainbow – psychedelic. What’s wrong?’
My brain snapped on the connections: van – psychedelic design – Damien Talbot. He’d been here!
The tiredness had dropped away as I felt a reaction rise inside me I hadn’t experienced for a long time – that of the hunter becoming the hunted. ‘Tall bloke? Long hair?’
‘That’s him. Anything wrong?’
‘No, mate. Probably not. How long was he here?’
‘In and out I’d say. Well, I’ve gotta clean up and start my shift. ‘Night, Cliff.’
My security is reasonably good. The front door is a solid job, deadlocked. The house is freestanding on one side but the bougainvillea grows so thickly in the front that you’d lose a hell of a lot of skin trying to get through. At the back is a drop of a couple of metres to the lane and there are a couple of blocks of flats opposite with windows looking out. Hard to break into. All clear there. I inspected the front porch as best I could in the dim light but there didn’t appear to be anything of concern – no suspicious parcels, no bodies.
I unlocked the door, turned on the light and saw the sheet of paper that had been slipped under the door. I closed the door behind me and picked it up.