Heart of Stone (5 page)

Michael looked up Jack Goodwin’s
records on the computer. “Your license is only a standard license
for a shotgun and a 22 calibre rifle. It appears Jack had some
considerable firepower which he had military clearance for but it’s
going to be hard to justify a reason for you to keep
them”.

“
She has a reason”, Simon
interrupted. “She’s my new bodyguard”.

Michael choked out a laugh, “you, need
a bodyguard?”

Simon raised his eyes attempting an
innocent look, “I feel threatened”.

Michael glanced at the envelope on his
desk and then eyed Simon, “that I doubt.” Sighing heavily he pulled
out some forms and handed them to Tyra to fill in. “I can’t make
any promises, the request for a licence upgrade will need to go to
head office. In the meantime memorise this, get some training and
arrange to get yourself tested for level three certification as an
armed security guard and get an up-to-date first aid licence”. He
handed Tyra a booklet and a list of the few registered people who
could test her. “I’ll give you three months to at least complete
the basic training on controlling situations with firearms. If you
haven’t progressed that far by then I’m confiscating the guns. At
some stage I’ll need to come out to the cabin to view the guns in
their storage so I can see that everything is up to current
regs.”

Michael glared at Simon “You better
not be messing with me Simon. If I find you’re using Tyra to expand
your operation I’ll come down on you with the full force of the
law. The legislation states that only a one-person operation is
allowed. Is that clear?”

Simon smiled the smile of victor,
“Perfectly clear.”

Tyra was totally aghast, “did you just
bribe the local police officer”?

“
Of course not, Michael is
far too honest for that”, Simon paused, “but he’s not stupid
either. No one in the town wants the youth club to close. I have
the kind of money that can make things happen. No, it was just,
let’s say an opportunely synchronous transaction.”

“
A what?”
O
pportunely synchronous transaction my
ass
.

“
I expect by next week
there might even be some new gym equipment out of that little
donation. We’ll even enrol you in a few self defence classes there.
I’m thinking Aikido as its more spiritually focused and a little
bit of Indonesian Pencak Silat which is an extremely versatile
fighting style and will get you fit and nimble on your feet. A
couple of the locals are masters.

Tyra’s jaw dropped. “Aren’t you
forgetting a little something here? You know, fifty year old
sedentary librarian and all that. And what was all that about your
one man operation?”.

Simon eyed her uncertainly. “We’ll get
to that later. I have a client tonight so you’ll find out all about
my business then”.

Tyra knew he was hiding something but
guessed it would be futile to pursue it further. She hoped it
wasn’t something criminal but if the cop knew about it couldn’t be
too bad, could it? If she was going to find out tonight she’d find
out tonight. “What’s next then? You said something about going to
the pub”.

The Bush Ranger’s Rest was a worn down
small country town pub. It had been built in the eighteen hundreds
when bush rangers really did roam the area. It still had the
original post and rail fence out front for tying your horse
to.

Simon leaned on the lichen covered
post and rail, in the shade of a large cootamundra wattle that was
just starting to come out into bloom. He reached into his pocket
for a small container, took out a pinch of dust and placed it
carefully in his palm. “Before we go inside I need to open your
eyes to a deeper level of reality. I need to blow a bit of this
dust into your eyes. It won’t hurt but your eyes might water for a
moment”.

Tyra wasn’t too sure about this but it
couldn’t be any stranger than anything else he’d shown her, could
it? “It won’t do any long term damage will it?”

“
Not at the micro-dose I’m
going to use”.

Not exactly
reassuring
but
“okay”.

Tyra’s eyes did indeed water. “Bloody
hell, what was that stuff?”

Simon ignored her question and just
waited.

The watering stopped and
she looked around and …
wow!
There were little bits of light flittering around
the opening blooms of the wattle tree. Tyra looked at Simon and was
not entirely surprised to see him encased in bright light, mostly
white but with hints of gold, violet and magenta.

Simon arched his brow, “Ready
then?”

Inside the pub they found a table
against the wall. The room smelled of beer, old carpet and polished
wood. There was a clink of glass as the waiter behind the bar
stacked a small dishwasher. Tyra was not surprised that Simon had
chosen a position where he could easily see everyone in the
room.

“
Two of your usual?” asked
an obviously tired but friendly young waitress.

“
Thanks Melissa. That would
be great, keep the change”.

Melissa beamed at him. Being Australia
tips were almost unheard of as everyone expected to pay a fixed and
fair price and no more, good service was just expected. No one ever
complained about bad service, they’d just go elsewhere.

Tyra nodded in the direction of the
bar as the waitress walked away. “That was nice”.

“
They’re good to me here.
They don’t rib me too much over my drinking orange juice and it’s
useful to come in here and catch up on what’s going on it town.
Also, she doesn’t know it yet but she has a bub on the way. Try not
to stare but look at her and then at her belly.”

Tyra concentrated on the colours
around the waitress, figuring that that must be her aura, not that
she knew anything about auras or how to read them. But she did
notice a point of white light in the belly. Guessing from the tiny
size, if that light was from a child then it must be pretty
new.

“
Last night’s winter
solstice ritual with her boyfriend Rob.”

Tyra glanced around the pub, noticing
a couple of patrons at the bar, again with auras, even if a little
muddier than the waitress’s. Suddenly she stopped breathing as she
notice the guy at the end of the pub who was eating his counter
meal. He’d glanced up at them, lifted his glass in salute and then
went back to finishing his meal. What had her in a state of shock
was what was in his aura, or more precisely what was his aura. He
looked to be encased in the impression of a very large reptile. Its
scaly lion shaped head and cruel eyes swung around to peer at her.
Tyra quickly averted her eyes and took an ice cold swig of orange
juice from the glass that had just been placed in front of her.
“Flipping hell! That’s not real. It can’t be real.”

What was even worse was that the wily
looking businessman had just finished his meal and was now stalking
over to them, beast and all.

The stranger licked his lips. “Simon,
I see you’ve acquired a tasty morsel for me”.

Simon made a noticeable growling
sound, gritting his teeth. “She’s mine Steven, if you value your
men you will keep them away from her”.

Steven raised his eyebrows as if
surprised. “So the great Mr Harris is reduced to making
threats”.

“
I only deal in facts
Steven, not threats, you know that. If you don’t want your men
getting a quick trip to reincarnating into their next lives then
they’d better leave Tyra alone.”

“
Then she’d better not be
the prophesied one better she? The big boss doesn't want those
bastards let loose and interfering with his global business.” At
that he stomped out.

Tyra stood outside Simon’s door
looking at the clear night sky. This far from the city and its
pollution the sky sparkled with many constellations. The Milky Way
formed a white road of a zillion stars. Wrapped in Simon’s warm
ankle length bluey wool felt coat, thick gloves and a cap she felt
like she was in her own cozy observatory.

Around the bend came a deep blue
Bentley GT Continental, coming to a stop outside Simon’s door. The
menacingly sleek sportscar looked new, its enamel ‘B’ on the front
grill declaring to all the world its pedigree.

The driver reassured his passenger
that yes he would wait.

Tyra was no expert in high fashion but
taking in the cut of the coat and the mass of jewellery on the
fingers there was little doubt the lady that stepped out of the car
was in the rich league.

Tyra nodded politely and gave what she
hoped was a good business-like smile. “Evening”.

The tall blonde truly looked down her
nose at Tyra. “Evening”, then looked hesitantly at the door as if
psyching herself up for something.

Tyra opened it for her.

The lady steeled herself with a deep
breath and entered.

Tyra wandered down to chat to the
driver. Simon had said he’d be busy for a while.

George Morrisby had gotten out of the
car to have a joint rather than sully the hand-crafted dark
fiddleback eucalyptus interior and sumptuous upholstery of the
magnificent car. He didn’t really look like a George Morrisby. He
had an ancestor who had been a British army major stationed in
Sudan after Britain and Egypt retook Sudan in 1898 and made it a
protectorate. As the fifth son of a minor British lord William
Smythe Morrisby had little back in Britain to interest him so when
he fell in love with a local girl he decided to make Sudan his
home. His descendants had made a reasonable living importing and
exporting goods from Britain. Never really accepted in his
homeland, partially because of his mixed blood and partially
because his family were Anglican rather than Orthodox Christian or
Sunni Muslim, he had left his country in his late teens and gone to
Oxford to study engineering. One summer he came home from college
to find his family had been massacred as collateral damage in one
of Sudan’s many sectarian struggles for power. After five years in
refugee camps, two years in an Australian immigrant detention
centre and one year in a settlement program he had finally gained
his citizenship and become an Australian only to find he couldn’t
get work. His English might have been immaculate but times were
hard and even though no one was openly racist he knew his skin
colour went against him. He tried not to blame them, few outside of
Africa knew anything about his country and most had only seen the
worst of his fellow Africans on their new bulletins, brutal
dictators, machete wielding madmen and the like. Simon had found
him and offered him a job as his personal chauffeur. When he wasn’t
running clients up to Simon he made a bit extra hiring the Bentley
out for Weddings. He smoked the dope to help forget the pain of the
past. His large hand gripped Tyra’s and he smiled. “What’s someone
like you doing watching Simon’s door?”

Tyra decided George seemed an honest
down-to-earth character so she decided on an honest reply. “I had
reason to need a security license so Simon gave me the job. I’m
still learning. This is my first night. By the way what is it that
Simon actually does that has the rich elite making a two hour drive
to this neck of the woods?”

George frowned, searching his brain
for a safe answer. “Ah. That’s not for me to say, you’d better ask
Simon for the specifics. But that one tonight’s from Melbourne.
Nearly all of them I pick up at the airport. Simon pays me well so
I don’t ask too many questions.”

Tyra sensed she wasn’t going to get
any more out of George. They spent the rest of the evening casually
discussing the weather, the footy and engaged in the Australian
pastime of bagging the politicians from all sides of politics. Once
or twice she thought she heard a cry or shout coming from the house
but George calmly told her to ignore it and went back to their
conversation.

Some three hours later the lady
re-emerged, no longer looking hesitant but instead she held herself
with grace and calm. As she walked to the car peace and serenity
wafted off her in waves. She ignored Tyra and nodded to the
passenger door for George let her.

George gave Tyra a quick hug in
farewell “Guess I’ll be seeing you around then. Take
care.”

“
You too, see you
‘round.”

Tyra watched as the Bentley
disappeared in the night, turning when she heard a call behind
her.

Simon had partially opened his front
door. “Tyra, you give me a hand here?”

“
Yeah, sure,
coming.”

Tyra’s eyes bugged as she took the
sight of Simon and his lounge room. Simon was dressed, if you could
call it dressed, in black leather boots, black leather undies and
some kind of studded strapping that criss-crossed his back and
chest. At one end of the lounge stood a sturdy wooden cross frame
with what looked like furry cufflinks hanging from its ends and
around the floor were an array of ropes and whips.

Simon pointed to the catch at the back
of his body harness. “Can you undo that for me, it’s always a
struggle to get out of this thing and since you’re
here...”