Black Ice (22 page)

On the periphery of his vision, Brett saw the door of the hardware store open. He turned away, strolled behind other parked cars, pretended to tie his shoelace. When he straightened up, Brand was throwing something onto the seat of the ute. Then he closed and locked the door, and walked across the street.

Brett watched as Brand walked up to the next block, crossed over the intersection, walked about twenty metres, then went into a building.

Adopting a casual pose, Brett walked back to the ute, and looked in through the driver's window. Three large metal hinges lay on the passenger seat. Brett smiled. Brand had work to do.

The smile broadened as Brett reached into his pocket for the small toolkit he always carried.

It was so simple, Brett thought. Just put a small nick in the acetylene hose. Once the valve's opened, the acetylene gas, being heavier than air, will pool in the tray of the ute. Then a spark from the cutting or grinding will cause the gas to ignite, heat the oxygen cylinder, and bang! An explosion that will send Brand into orbit.

He quickly extracted a small screwdriver from his toolkit and slipped the kit back into his pocket. Glancing around to see if he was being observed, he gouged a small cut in the red acetylene hose. The rubber folded back in on itself so quickly it appeared not to have been damaged at all.

But he knew it would be enough.

 

Kirri watched the ute drive into the shed and sighed with relief. It had taken Daniel a long time to buy a couple of gate hinges, and she'd been tempted to drive into Gordonvale and look for him.

She turned away from the kitchen window. 'Daddy's back,' she smiled at Catelyn. The child stood up on her chair and looked around. 'Daddee?'

'Later, Darling. Daddy has work to do.' She sat Catelyn back on the chair. 'And I,' Kirri looked at the ingredients on the bench, 'am going to try to make him some Succotash Soup.'

Cate laughed as she crimped pastry around a massive meat pie. 'And here was I thinking succotash was just a word Sylvester the cat made up.'

'Well, according to Daniel it's a North American Indian soup. The recipe looks simple enough, just -' Kirri frowned as her grandmother placed a floury hand to her chest. 'Gran? Are you all right?'

Cate shrugged. 'Someone must have walked on my grave. I'm fine now.'

 

Daniel propped the gate against the work bench. He studied the broken hinge for a minute, then checked the oxy equipment on the back of the ute. Everything looked in excellent condition, and yes, the hoses would reach.

After donning gloves and protective mask, he switched on the valves to the oxygen and acetylene cylinders, then picked up the oxy-torch, rotated the knobs to allow the gases through, and lit it.

Carefully, he cut the hinge away from the metal frame.

 

Kirri stirred the thick yellow soup and lowered the heat on the hotplate. She glanced over as Cate opened the door of the wall oven then went back to pick up the pie dish. Her grandmother frowned, and hesitated before placing the dish in the oven and closing the door.

'I'm just going to get a breath of fresh air,' Cate said as she undid her apron. 'Too hot in here.' She walked towards the door.

'Gran, are you sure you're all right?'

Cate looked back and smiled. 'Of course I am, dear. O'Flaherty's are made of stern stuff. We're too stubborn to get sick.'

 

Although he'd tried to cut the hinge off as close as possible, Daniel saw there were too many small pieces of metal still attached to the frame. He turned off the oxy-torch, lifted the mask, and looked around the work bench.

J.D. ran a well-ordered outfit, he thought. Hand tools were positioned on hooks in large peg-boards running the width of the shed wall. A vice was attached to the bench, and powerpoints were placed at the ends and the middle of the bench's timber supports.

He opened a large cupboard at the end of the bench, and looked at the boxes of hardware and various power tools. Good! There was the grinder he needed. He plugged it into the powerpoint closest to the gate.

 

Cate O'Flaherty walked quickly down the back stairs. She'd been too young when her parents died to recognise the horrible feeling that had swept her only minutes before their train had crashed.

And her husband had been walking out of the bank after being confronted with their appalling final figures when he'd suffered the massive heart attack that had killed him. Cate had known what she would hear even as she'd answered the phone. The feeling had swept her only minutes before.

And Kirri … Thank heavens the feeling had been skewed on that occasion.

Now she hurried across to the shed, praying that for once the feeling was wrong, that this time it was just an old woman's indigestion.

White sparks flashed as Daniel ground away the excess metal.

He stopped, and checked his work. Only a small piece remained.

As he bent again to his task, he saw movement at the shed door. He glanced over, saw Cate, and made a quick hand signal to indicate he would only need a second. Then he flicked the grinding wheel onto the metal, sending sparks showering.

Sharp orange flames suddenly erupted in the tray of the ute.

Fear raced through him. He dropped the grinder, tore off the mask, and ran towards Cate, yelling, 'Get out of here!'

 

Kirri watched from the kitchen window as Cate scurried across to the shed where Daniel was working. Cate had been pale and distracted as she'd left the kitchen, and Kirri was concerned about her.

Cate disappeared inside the shed.

The smell of the soup distracted Kirri. Before she could turn away to stir it, a tremendous explosion rocked the shed. The side wall blew out, debris scattering over the grass.

Catelyn screamed. Kirri whirled around, grabbed her daughter to her chest, and stepped back to look through the window again.

Smoke and dust filled what remained of the shed.

Terror clutched Kirri's heart. She raced Catelyn to her bedroom, placed her on the bed, then shut the door as she ran out.

She took the stairs two at a time. Within seconds she viewed the entire devastation.

The tray and cabin of the ute had blown apart, spraying shrapnel around the shed. The oxygen cylinder had split open like a melon and blasted through the shed wall.

Cate was lying on her back at the entrance to the shed, eyes closed, her body half-covered by Daniel's. Kirri gasped at the blood flowing from a large wound in the side of her grandmother's head.

Burned and bloodied skin showed through the gaping holes in Daniel's shirt. His left sleeve was soaked with blood, and a bright red pool was forming on the concrete floor.

Neither of them moved.

'I'm afraid your grandmother isn't stable enough to be flown to Brisbane,' the Intensive Care Specialist said to Kirri and J.D., 'so a neurosurgeon will be flying up in the morning.'

Kirri looked over to where Cate's still body lay in one of the ten ICU beds. Tubes, leads, monitors - it looked so terribly familiar to Kirri, and it scared her. She didn't want to lose Cate, and particularly not like this. She suddenly realised how her mother must have felt, travelling all the way to New Orleans to find her daughter hooked up to so much equipment.

'Will he need to operate?'

The doctor nodded. 'Probably.' He smiled gently at Kirri. 'You should get some rest. There's nothing you can do here now, and it will be a long day for you tomorrow.'

'No. I want to stay.' Kirri tried to stop the tears that stung her eyes. 'Someone has to be here, in case …'

'I'll come back, Kirri, and stay tonight.' J.D. said. 'If you don't get some sleep you'll be in no shape to handle staying here tomorrow.'

Kirri nodded, then saw Mick Landers being shown into the room by a nurse. He beckoned to them.

'Daniel's awake,' he said as they walked out into the corridor.

'Is he -'

'He wants to see you,' Mick reassured her, 'but I have to warn you that his hearing's been affected by the blast. He doesn't catch everything you say, but the doctor said this will improve.'

'He's alive. That's all that matters.'

The ICU was on the first floor of a relatively new wing which was connected to the building containing the surgical ward by a long corridor. As they waited for the lift to take them up to the fifth floor, Kirri realised she'd made this same trip four times tonight. The reassurances from the medical staff hadn't been enough, she had had to see for herself what was happening with Daniel and Cate.

She walked into the private room they'd given Daniel. A nurse finished writing on a patient chart, then hung it on the end of the bed. She smiled at Kirri as she walked out, but Kirri's eyes were focussed only on the man in the bed. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned towards her. Large dressings covered his left shoulder and arm. He lifted his right hand to her and she took it, grateful for the strength she found in just being able to touch him.

'Will you do something for me, sweetheart?' He spoke as though each word brought pain, and with the concussion he had, it more than likely did.

Kirri only nodded, afraid if she spoke all the fear and worry she had bottled up in the last few hours would burst out in a great emotional deluge that she didn't want Daniel to have to cope with right now.

'Good. Mick will tell you what to do. Then I want you to stay away from here until they catch the bastard who did this.' His eyes glazed over, and the pressure of his hand around hers relaxed.

Kirri realised he had drifted back to sleep. She placed his hand on the bed, then bent to kiss him. 'I love you,' she whispered softly against his cheek.

 

'Are you sure you can handle this?'

Kirri looked up at J.D. and experienced a sense of dêja vu. Was it only five days ago that Daniel had asked her much the same thing? Viewing a blood stain on the floor of her flat was nothing compared to the horror she'd had to live through in the past few hours.

The smell of antiseptic was fresh in her nostrils as they followed Mick Landers to a small office past the nurses station. Once inside, Mick closed the door and indicated for Kirri to sit in a swivel chair.

'The forensic boys are going over the explosion site, and we're treating it as suspicious unless it can be proven otherwise.'

Kirri nodded. She watched Mick punch in numbers on a phone half-hidden by scattered paperwork, then he held out the hand-piece to her.

'Just give him the information we told you,' he said. 'No more. If Daniel's suspicions are correct, the killer will try again.'

The ring tone seemed to buzz inside her head. She felt desperately tired, but doubted she would be able to sleep.

'Hello?' The voice sounded drowsy.

Kirri jumped, her nerves taut. 'Is that … Philip Weyburn?' she asked. J.D.'s hand was warm and comforting on her shoulder.

'Yes.'

'This is Kirri Smith.'

'Kirri? Daniel Brand's Kirri?'

'Yes.' It came out more like a sigh. She leaned her elbows on the desk. 'I'm sorry to phone so late at night. I have some bad news,' she continued. 'Daniel … has been badly injured. And my grandmother. There was an explosion.'

'Hell! Kirri, I'm terribly sorry. Are you all right? And your daughter?'

'Yes, yes. We're fine.'

'Where is Daniel? When he was here with you he mentioned that you live in Cairns.'

'He's in a private room in the surgical ward. I just thought you would want to know. I have to go now. Goodbye.'

'Yeah, sure. Thanks for letting me know.'

Kirri placed the phone back on the slot and buried her head in her hands. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she was too exhausted to cry.

'Is that enough, Mick?' J.D. asked, and at the Detective's nod, he helped Kirri to her feet. 'Come on. You need some sleep.'

She nodded. 'At least we don't have far to go. Thank heavens Emma gave me her house and car keys. And Trish has been wonderful, looking after Catelyn all this time.'

'She's a good friend,' J.D. acknowledged.

 

J.D. poured some port into a glass and handed it to Kirri as she sat on the lounge. 'I don't think Emma and Drew will mind you having something to help you sleep.'

Kirri's face was pale, and J.D. was concerned. She had handled the situation so well this afternoon, calling the ambulance, giving first aid to Cate and Daniel. He was grateful he'd been working close to the road and heard the wail of the siren as the Gordonvale ambulance had sped towards the property. After stabilising Cate and Daniel, the ambulance officers had radioed for the Air Ambulance, and it hadn't taken long for the helicopter to arrive. Then J.D. had phoned Trish Farmer, and driven Kirri and Catelyn to the hospital.

'I'll stay at the hospital tonight,' he said. 'Trish said she'll come here in the morning and take you home so you can get some fresh clothes.'

Kirri nodded. She felt drained, numb. She took a sip of the port, tasted the smooth mellow flavour as it slid over her tongue. Then she had a large swallow, felt the warmth seep through her.

Earlier in the evening she'd spent an emotional five minutes on the phone with her mother. The connection to Vienna had been so good it felt as though Lyn was only in the next room.

'I hope Mum can get home quickly,' her voice faltered, 'just in case.'

J.D. bent down, gave her a long hug. 'If you need me, just call the hospital. And don't forget Mick's card is in your bag if you need to contact him.' As she nodded, he turned towards the door. He didn't want to leave her, but one of them had to stay at the hospital. From what the doctor had said, it was going to be a long wait.

'I'll lock the door on my way out. Get some sleep.'

 

Kirri sat for a long time, staring at her surroundings without really seeing them. Drew had built the house on the same site where his parent's house had been burned down only seven months previously. He and Emma had chosen an open plan style with pale tiled floors, and large windows to take advantage of the breezes that blew from nearby Trinity Bay. Tonight there was only the occasional breath of wind, but Kirri didn't notice.