Blood Tears (34 page)

“
We
could get forensics to dust it for . . .” He trailed off at the
expression on my face, knowing himself only too well how fruitless
that would prove, even if the Super would allow her precious
forensics team to be used for such a frivolous purpose.

I climbed into the Land
Rover and carefully reversed, worried the whole front bumper would
drop off at any little dip in the road. I completely annoyed every
other driver on the road by putting along well below the speed
limit, but was spared from any building road rage by the Sarge
trailing after me in the patrol car. I appreciated that he stayed
with me, not entirely confident my 4WD would make it, particularly
as we approached the steep rise up the mountain to Little Town.

Somehow, and I wasn’t
sure if it was the power of my prayers to every deity I could think
of, or my curses I called down on the Bycrafts, the Land Rover
actually made it home.

I took a few minutes to
check on Dad, finding him awake and watching TV. I made him a
sandwich that I was pretty sure he’d refuse to eat and a cup of
tea, and pulled out a blanket to wrap over his legs when he
complained about the cold. I deliberately didn’t tell him about the
horrendous mechanic’s bill coming our way or the fresh damage to
the Land Rover. He didn’t need to worry about things like that.

“
Let’s go get them,” I said grimly when we climbed back into
the patrol car.

“
Tess, we don’t have any evidence it was the Bycraft teens,”
he argued with a calm reason that angered me more.

“
Think of some evidence we can use.”

He regarded me closely.
“No, Tess. I’m not going down that path, and neither are you.
Understand? We’ll have our chance with them eventually, and it will
be done in accordance with the law so we can make it stick.”

“
You
don’t understand.”

“
I do
understand, and I’m angry with them too. But I’m more concerned
about you.”

I whipped my head his
way. “What do you mean by that?”

“
I’m
concerned about the pressure you’ve been under the past few
months.”

I looked out the
window. “Save your concern for someone else.”
Save it for
someone who deserves it
, I thought moodily.

“
No
can do,” he said with easy casualness. “I haven’t got a drop of
concern to spare for anyone else.”

“
Don’t say that.”

“
Why
not?”

“
I
don’t know. Just don’t say it.”

“
I
have to say it. I work with you and whatever you do, or whatever
happens to you, happens to me too.” He kept his eyes on the road.
“We’re partners, remember?”

And though I didn’t
answer him, I’d decided that what he’d said was the nicest thing
I’d heard from anybody for a long time.

Chapter
23

We’d barely returned to
the station when I caught a phone call from someone who wished to
remain anonymous. But I recognised her voice as one of the
unfortunate residents of Jarrah Street, and therefore close
neighbour to that minion of Hell, Lola Bycraft. In a shaking voice,
she told me she wanted to report a fracas occurring at Lola’s
house. And before I could even thank her for being a good citizen,
she’d hung up.

“
Don’t get too comfy in your chair,” I warned the Sarge.
“Disturbance at Lola’s house.”

He groaned. “Again?
Don’t they ever take a break?”

“
Are
you really surprised?”

“
No.
But why are you smiling about it?”

“
This
could be my chance for some retribution.”

“
Tessie, what did I say before?” he said in his finest
I’m-definitely-not-taking-any-shit-from-my-senior-constable
voice.

I looked at him
innocently. “In accordance with the law, of course, Sarge. What
else did you think I meant?”

“
Oh,
God. Why am I suddenly dreading this?”

I walked to the counter
and opened the hatch. “Just remember the old Little Town police
motto.”

“
Which is?”

“
Take
as many Bycraft prisoners as possible.”

“
Oh,
God. Now I
am
wishing I was lazing back on the Mediterranean
again.”

When we pulled up out
the front of Lola’s house, the ‘fracas’ was still in full swing,
and had spilled out on to their front verandah.

“
It’s
like the last time all over again,” said the Sarge
wearily.

“
And
the time before that.”

“
And
the fifty times before that.” We looked at each other. “Check your
weapons, Tess.”

“
Already doing it,” I replied, running through my usual
pre-incident drill – gun, baton, handcuffs, OC spray. “Ready for
action?”

“
I’m
ready. Let’s hit it hard.”

We ran up the stairs to
the verandah. From first viewing, it appeared as if Rosie Bycraft
was laying into Rick with a largish piece of timber. The other
Bycrafts stood around, smoking, some drinking, everyone watching
their relatives scrapping with idle indifference. Without talking,
the Sarge and I each took one of the Bycrafts locked in the fierce
battle – Rosie for me, and Rick for him.

“
Hey!” the Sarge bellowed, fearlessly getting between them,
pushing Rick in the chest with a couple of little shoves. “Settle
down. Get away from her. Tess, pull her back.”

I slipped my arms
around Rosie and hauled her backwards as far away from Rick as I
could. I struggled to contain her as she angrily thrashed in my
arms, waving her stick around with reckless abandon. And as she had
huge, cosmetically acquired boobs, it was difficult to achieve, and
maintain, a good grip on her because they kept getting in the
way.

“
Sit
down here,” yelled the Sarge at Rick, pushing him down on to the
floorboards of the verandah with a hand on the top of his head.
“And don’t think of moving a muscle.”

“
Drop
it,” I warned Rosie as she lunged forward to attack Rick again,
brandishing the piece of timber. The Sarge had to physically force
Rick to the ground again when he half-rose to take on his
sister.

“
I
told you to stay there!
” yelled the Sarge so loudly that
neighbours abandoned their behind-the-curtain stickybeaking, and
ventured to their verandahs, always entertained by a good show
involving the police and the Bycrafts.

Seeing me struggling
with the fiercely uncooperative Rosie, the Sarge handcuffed Rick to
the railings of the verandah, and rushed to assist me. He disarmed
Rosie of her timber, and we manhandled her to the other end of the
verandah where I managed to also cuff her to the railings. And even
though cuffed securely, they both raged at each other. They rattled
and yanked against the cuffs, though that had little benefit to
them, and only hurt their wrists.

“
Right,” said the Sarge, exhaling heavily. “Someone want to
tell me what this is all about?”

Both Rosie and Rick
started talking at once. This renewed their anger with each other,
sparking a whole new fight between them, only this time with words,
not weapons.

“
Shut up!
” bellowed the Sarge in a voice that made even
the Bycrafts shut up. He pointed at Rick. “You, first.”

“
That
bitch over there,” he virtually spat out with anger, “is inviting
our useless turd of a father to Denny’s funeral. I don’t want him
there. I hate him!”

“
He’s
our father, and Denny’s father, you fucking insensitive prick,”
Rosie yelled back at him. “Do you think he wants to miss his own
son’s fucking funeral?”

“
He
missed Denny’s entire life. Why do you think he’d give a flying
fuck about attending his funeral? He’s about as fucking welcome
there as piglet is.”

“
Don’t you bring me into this,” I warned, not in any kind of
mood to tolerate Bycraft insolence.

“
Who
cares what you think, you stupid little snivelling shit?” Rosie
taunted. “Just because Red and Karl and Tommy and Dad are all
banged up, you think you’re the man of the house now? Well, here’s
a secret for free, shithead – you’re not. Mum’s fucking ten times
the man you’ll ever be, and you know it.”

“
Shut
your ugly face, you fucking slag.”

The Sarge sighed and
said in a quiet voice to me as the other two raged back and forth
insulting each other. “You’re writing up this report.”

“
Thanks a bunch, Maguire. I’ll just recycle one of the old
ones and change the names as needed, will I?”

“
Might as well,” he said to me, before assuming his loud cop
voice. “Shut up, you two. I asked what was going on, not invited
you both to a swearing competition. So, let me get this straight.
Part of the family wants to invite Denny’s father to the funeral,
and part doesn’t.”

“
No,”
immediately objected Rosie. “Not
part
of the family. Just
that dipshit brother of mine sitting over there.”

“
Shut
up, bitch. Jakey doesn’t want him there either,” insisted
Rick.

“
Jakey’s never said that to me,” interjected a mostly
disinterested Lola, a grey cylinder of ash dropping unnoticed from
her cigarette on to the threadbare carpet in the hallway of the
house where she stood. “And we’ve talked about Denny’s funeral a
hundred times.”

That was news to me,
though I supposed it made sense that if Jake was funding the
funeral, he would probably have some opinions on how it should be
conducted. And now that Red was back in jail, Jake was his mother’s
favourite child, though Rosie probably came a very close second. If
I were feeling charitable, I would concede that would probably mean
that Lola would want to lean on Jake during a traumatic time like
this. But I wasn’t feeling charitable, and I wanted her to stay
away from him every bit as much as she wanted me to do the
same.

“
Okay, I’m bored of this family squabbling. I’ve got better
things to do with my time,” said the Sarge. “Do either of you want
to press charges against the other?”

They both shook their
heads sullenly.

“
Are
you going to behave yourself when I release you both?”

Two sullen nods were
his only response.

“
Uncuff her, Tess.”

I grumbled as I freed
Rosie from the cuffs. As she stood up, she swiftly scooped up the
piece of timber and lunged towards Rick. I ran interference,
copping a whack on the side of my head that had me reeling against
the railing and seeing stars for a few moments. With me out of the
way, she rammed her way towards a newly freed Rick, and started
whacking into him.

“
I’ll
teach you to disrespect our father, you cocksucking limpdick,” she
yelled as he cowered, moving backwards until he was cornered
against the railing and the house.

“
Tess, you okay?” asked the Sarge in a worried voice, barely
able to spare me a glance as he yanked Rosie away from Rick again,
cuffing both hands behind her back.

“
Yeah, I think so,” I said, feeling a painful bump on my
head.

“
She
should have beaten you to death with it,” sneered Lola.

I walked over to where
Rosie had been forced to drop the timber – a little woozily maybe –
and picked it up. Then I walked right up to Lola, almost toe to
toe, towering over the scrawny little monster.

“
You
want your stick back, Lola?” I asked.

I didn’t know what my
expression showed at that moment, though I knew I had deep black
hatred in my heart for this awful woman, but whatever she saw was
enough to make her take a small step backwards.

“
Why
don’t you keep it as a souvenir of today, piglet whore?” she
retorted, not losing any of her bravado.

“
Why
don’t I just leave it here for you?” I suggested, dropping the
piece right on her barefoot, causing her to wince. “Oops, sorry. It
must have slipped.”

“
Tess,” warned the Sarge. “I need you to help with this
woman.”

“
Fuck
you, you fucking bitch whore,” Lola screeched. “I can’t wait until
Red comes home. He’ll sort you out good and proper. You just wait
and see.”

I patted my gun and
stared her down. “You tell him I’ll be waiting for him, Lola. I
love me a good prisoner escape. And you know I’m a crack shot.”

“
Crazy bitch,” spat Rosie, struggling in the Sarge’s
arms.

“
Shut
up, you,” he said, shaking the handcuffs until she cried out in
pain.

“
You
fucking touch one hair on Red’s head and that will be the end of
you, piglet,” Lola threatened. “And I’ll arrange it
personally.”

“
I
promise I won’t touch a hair on his head,” I said provocatively.
“I’ll put the bullets through his chest instead.” I patted my gun
again and smiled at her benignly.

“
Tess, leave it,” the Sarge warned in a terse
voice.

I held my hands up
innocently. “Just having a bit of fun, Sarge.”

“
Stop
it and help me get this one into the patrol car.”

“
You’re not arresting my Rosie,” Lola snarled.

“
No?
Just watch us,” retorted the Sarge, pushing Rosie towards the
stairs.

“
What
the fuck for, copper?” Lola ventured out of the house to the stairs
as we forced a fiercely struggling Rosie down them. “She’s done
nothing wrong. It was just a family squabble. Ricky’s not going to
press charges, are you, Ricky?”