Harrigan and Grace - 01 - Blood Redemption (29 page)

These thoughts occupied her until she came across a photograph in the paper, not of herself or Greg, but of someone she nonetheless recognised. A face that she knew well but from a different place. She sat looking at it for some moments before opening up her computer, logging on and going out onto the Net. After she found what she was looking for, she felt what was almost a sense of relief, a final letting go of everything. As Greg had said to her often enough, nothing matters.

Are you out there, Turtle?

I’m here Firewall I’ve been waiting 4 u
Why is that?

I just am

Lucy did not type anything for a few moments.

Are u there?

I’m here, I’m always here for you. Or I was. Turtle, you said that you never lied to me. That you never have and you never will.

Never have never U believe me Its true I have never lied 2 u
No? Are you sure about that?

No I never have

I saw a picture in the paper today. It’s the policeman who’s looking for me. And I thought, I know who that is. That’s your father, isn’t it?

I know who he is because I’ve looked at his picture, all your family’s pictures. I used to look at them for hours and think, Gee, I wish they were mine. You said he really looked after you. You said he loved you. And I thought, wouldn’t that be nice. People who did that. And then I read the paper today and there he is. You never said that’s what he did. You never said he was a pig.

He is not that He told me not 2 tell any1 He said people would
keep on at me if I did I didn’t tell u It didn’t matter It had nothing 2 do
with u & me

So when you’re telling me that I should go to the police, you’re saying that because it’s good for him. He gets what he wants. And you’re doing that for him. I don’t know if it’s any good for me, but it’s good for him.

I didn’t say it because of that I am not my father U should know
that better than anyone U are not your parents are u??? Everything
between us is u & me Nothing else Its never been anything else U

can’t say it is

I don’t believe you. You tell lies like everyone else. People tell you lies and then they laugh at you behind your back. And you’re a liar, Turtle. You lie like everyone else does. You just lie. Lie like a dog.

No

Do you know what they’re saying about me in the paper? That I’m a really cruel person. I like killing people. I like seeing blood. They had this poll — they asked people what they thought should happen to me and all these people said they thought I ought to be shot too.

Every day I think about what I did. I didn’t do it for fun. I did it because I had to. Is that what your father thinks I am?

There was a brief hesitation.

Yes he does but I told him no I said u are not like that I said he
mustn’t see u like that

What difference does that make? You’ve been telling me one thing, and maybe you’ve been telling him something else as well, and all the time you’ve got some other reason for what you’re saying to both of us.

U have 2 listen I care about u I don’t talk 2 anyone else the way I
talk 2 u U don’t have a choice Firewall U have nowhere 2 go That’s
the only reason I said u should go 2 the police Because if u don’t I
don’t know wots going 2 happen 2 u If u do this my dad can help u I
can make him help u

No. Where I go and what I do, that’s my choice. And if I end up dead, so what? No one’s going to care. You’re deciding things for me and you can’t do that.

Wot do u want??

Nothing that’s possible, but that doesn’t matter. I wanted to say goodbye, that’s all.

U never listen U never listen 2 anyone

I almost listened to you. But you were lying to me.

She was gone, closing down, logging out. She was floating in space, there was nothing to anchor her, only the next step, the next action.

She picked up the phone and rang Graeme. As she did, she thought that he had no power over her any more, the next action was just whatever game the two of them were playing at the time. He answered his phone almost immediately.

‘Hi, Graeme,’ she said. ‘Are you okay to talk?’

‘Lucy. Yes, I am. Where have you been? You’ve kept me waiting.

I’ve been here with Greg for hours.’

‘We’re all waiting for something. Last time I talked to you, you were waiting for the end of the world, weren’t you? How are you?’

‘I am fine, Lucy. I am very well indeed and I’m very glad to hear you are in such good spirits. I’ve got someone here you want to talk to. Just as you’ve asked.’

There was shuffling as the phone was passed over.

‘Hi, Luce.’

‘Hi there, Greg. How are you?’

‘I’m okay.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yeah, I am, Luce,’ he said. ‘It’s sort of okay at the moment.’

‘Where are you?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Why not? You said it was sort of okay.’

‘Yeah. But only sort of. I’ve got to go now.’

‘No. I —’

The preacher came back on. Lucy listened to his voice with irritation. ‘It’s time we got together,’ he said.

‘Yeah, I’ve got a car but there’s a couple of things I’ve got to do here. Tomorrow at the latest. Tomorrow night. Okay?’

‘Why do we have to wait till then?’

‘Because I have things I’ve got to do here, Graeme. And they’re important.’

‘What time?’

‘I’ll just be there, Graeme. From about ten. You can come by whenever you want to. But we’ll all be there, the three of us, won’t we?’

‘Of course. We have an arrangement then?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she replied impatiently. ‘You want to put Greg back on again?’

‘All right,’ he replied, after a pause.

‘Before you go,’ she said, ‘like I told you, don’t ring me. I’ll call you.’

There was no need for this. She just wanted to make him dance a little.

‘As you wish,’ he said.

‘I just wanted to say we’ll see each other,’ she said, once Greg was back.

‘Yeah, we will sometime, Luce. Look — you make sure you’re okay, all right. And don’t worry about me. Because everything’s going to be all right. You just remember that. You don’t think about me any more.

You’ve just got to think about yourself,’ he replied, and then the phone went dead.

Lucy went out into the fresh air again, to a clearer if colder day than yesterday. This time she did not take her gun with her, she left it behind, pleased not to feel its pressure against her skin. The doctor had gone, ages ago probably. She stood on the edge of the slope looking down to the escarpment. The dog was not in her kennel, although the remains of some bones were scattered by her dish. No one had replaced the chain. Wherever she was, Dora was living in freedom.

Stephen appeared, coasting the old Datsun he had promised her down the driveway, parking it behind his car. He got out and walked towards her. He stopped at a short distance.

‘I got you a full tank, Luce,’ he said. ‘Do you want some money as well? I can give you a few hundred dollars if you need it.’

‘Yeah, if you could,’ she replied. ‘How’s Dad?’

‘The quack’s given him a shot so he’ll be out to it for quite a while.

Mel said she’d give you a call when he wakes up but that could be pretty late tonight. You might not be able to talk to him until tomorrow.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll just wait. I’ve got the time.’

Because this is the endpoint, this will be goodbye for ever. It was the last piece of time left to her.

She watched him walk into the house. It seemed to crowd forward to the edge of the slope, a squat red-brick dwelling. Her choice would have been to burn it, not to paint it over. When she left here this time, she would not be able to come back. She accepted this as final before she turned to walk back inside and go up to her room. It was growing late in the afternoon but perhaps it would be as much as another day before she could leave. I’m waiting for you again, Dad. It’s what I always seem to do.

20

Ashort time after the Firewall had stopped talking to Turtle, Louise placed a transcript of their conversation on Harrigan’s desk. He read it over and said he would keep it. Once Louise had left, he rang Susie and asked her how Toby was.

‘Tim’s with him at the moment,’ she said, ‘I’ll check.’

Eventually she was back on the line.

‘He’s okay, Paul. He is upset but he doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it.’

‘I’m coming over to see him now,’ he said.

‘No, don’t.’ She spoke quickly. ‘He said you would do that and he doesn’t want you to. I have to tell you that.’

There was a brief silence in which Harrigan did not trust himself to reply.

‘Paul — if you can just accept this. We can look after him from our end. He’s not going into spasm or anything like that. But he needs his own space. You have to give him his space.’

‘You tell him from me, I’ll be there tomorrow morning no matter what. Unless he wants to get in touch with me beforehand and ask me to come earlier. But I’ll be there tomorrow regardless.’

‘I’ll tell him that, that’s not a problem.’

‘Good.’

He hung up and sat reading over the transcript.

I am not my father
. Did I ever say you were, Toby? I’ve only ever wanted you to be yourself. I must have told you that.

The only cure for this investigation was to pass it to someone else

— which he would not do because there was no one he trusted — or to solve it as soon as he could. In his experience, the emotions were usually deadened by fatigue, and constant work almost always resulted in lasting fatigue. On this thought he went back to work, reviewing, checking, reporting, requesting follow-ups, driving his team the way he drove himself.

He was relieved when the phone call from the hospital came through to Grace later that afternoon. She appeared in his doorway to say that she was on her way and they went in their separate cars. Out on the streets, peak hour was in full flow, the traffic edged along. The Firewall’s website had infected him, it muscled in on his sensibilities at the end of the day. He had the sense that the roads were crowded with people fleeing the city. He joined in with them, feeling as much at a loose end as anyone else.

At St Vincent’s, the bright corridors and the murmur of noise gave some sense of activity to this end-of-world feel on a chill winter’s day.

Grace was waiting for him. When Harrigan appeared, she thought the lights had over-painted his face with a sheen curiously like the stage make-up she used to wear. Why not? To her observation, he spent a fair amount of his time performing for others. Together they went upstairs to the intensive care ward, where Matthew was waiting for them in the ante-chamber.

Harrigan, seeing him for the first time since the shooting, took in the shorn hair and the black mourning.

‘Hello, Matthew. How are you?’ he said.

‘You said you’d catch her,’ Matthew replied, his arms folded.

‘We will. That’s a promise.’

‘You haven’t yet. But if you don’t, I will. And then she’ll pay, she’ll really pay. That’s a real promise, that’s not just a wank.’

‘You won’t have to do that because we will find her. But right now we’re here to see your mother. Every bit helps. Every step’s a step along the way.’ Harrigan had no other reply.

‘If I were you, I wouldn’t have the nerve to tell people that sort of shit. I’d be too fucking embarrassed,’ Matthew said, and walked away.

Harrigan watched him go, expressionless.

‘Bear with me while I remember your reports,’ he said to Grace. ‘Is he like that towards you?’

‘He’s not that aggressive with me but it’s the same thing. He lashes out at everyone and he won’t let anyone reach him. He can’t last, one day he has to break.’

Harrigan thought that when that happened he did not want to see it.

In the glass room, Dr Agnes Liu lay in her high hospital bed on a mass of pillows which her nurse was rearranging carefully.

‘Whatever Agnes thinks,’ her doctor was saying to Grace, ‘she’s not up to any marathon sessions. If I have to, I’m going to close it down.

I’m warning you in advance.’

‘I’ll take it very gently,’ she replied.

Harrigan stood a little out of range of Agnes Liu’s vision, waiting and watching.

Inside the room the nurse nodded to Grace and then sat to the side.

A human odour, of injury and sickness, and another, of antiseptic, filled the room. Grace sat beside Agnes Liu, the speaker to her miniature cassette recorder affixed to her lapel.

‘How are you, Agnes?’ she said.

‘I think that everybody worries too much,’ the woman replied. ‘But I’m not used to being the patient.’

She took Grace’s hand as she spoke and Grace leaned forward.

Shock had worn Agnes Liu’s face, a fine mix of Anglo-Australian and Chinese descent, to its constitutive bones. She was in her early forties.

Her eyes were dark, her skin ivory-pale. Her black hair had been lately washed and brushed out to display silver-grey lights curling back from her forehead.

‘Where’s Matthew? He’s very angry with me for talking to you. I told him it has to be done.’

‘He’s outside. I spoke to him just now.’

‘How is he?’

‘He’s all right. He’s coping. He’s a very strong boy.’

Agnes spoke each phrase as something short and measured, the careful apportioning of a limited strength. ‘Yes, he is. But he doesn’t know how to hide things yet. You have to realise, I was taught never to let inconvenience make me lose my composure. My mother met my father at university. She fell in love and they married. In 1955. She was eighteen. It was a scandal, her family didn’t speak to her again for decades. My grandmother, my father’s mother, she was as bad. She refused to welcome her. We always had to keep up appearances no matter how we felt. Matthew doesn’t know how to do that yet. When I’m better, I’ll talk to him.’

She stopped.

‘Do you know what I remember most about the morning I was shot? That girl. How we looked at each other. I turned and she was there on the street. Just there. Just in front of me. With a gun. I remember thinking, oh, that’s so small. And I looked at her. We were looking each other in the eyes. And I knew she was going to kill me. I knew it so naturally. Oh, here’s someone for an appointment, I thought it like that. I was looking her in the eyes when she fired. I thought, I know you.