Foley & Rose Collection

Chapter 13

Earth tremors, usually originating in the seas off the coast of Indonesia many hundreds of kilometres to the north-west of Darwin, were not a regular occurrence. They were however, not that uncommon as to create any real alarm within the community. Kevin Thiele was in a deep sleep when he felt the shaking. As he stirred slowly into a groggy state of awareness, he assumed another such tremor was stirring him awake.

He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of his killer seconds before he died. A smiling face leaned over him. A glint of light bounced off the blade of a knife held menacingly in front of his eyes. His senses, still dulled from sleep, were slow to react. The knife moved closer and he felt a strange sensation in his throat. He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came. He was dying. A warm rush of blood flooded from his neck, and soaked the bedding beneath his head. He tried to speak. His mouth opened and closed. He heard only the sound of gargled, bubbling air, like a landed fish gasping for life-giving oxygen. As his eyes began to glaze over, and his life ebbed rapidly from him, he looked up into the smiling face above him and recognised his killer.

The face smiled down at the dying solicitor. He was pleased with himself. Stupid, dumb f***s would never catch him. He had seen to that. That prick Foley couldn’t find his arse with four hands. He chuckled aloud at his joke as he fumbled around in the small carry bag at his feet. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and pulled a cloth from the depths of the bag. Slowly, meticulously, lovingly he wiped the blood from the blade. When he was satisfied, he carefully placed it in the bottom of the bag. He would show the f*****g pigs. Bloody stupid, dumb coppers. The slow-witted bastards still had no idea who they were looking for. Even if some half-smart arsehole came up with his name as a suspect, the rest of his i***t mates would think he was a nut job. They wouldn’t catch him, couldn’t catch him; he had seen to that also. He had seen to everything, because he was much smarter than any of them. He moved to the foot of the bed, stood back and admired his handiwork. Yes, it was good. He was good, and he wasn’t finished yet. The more of the bastards he got, the better it felt.

four“Soon,” he said softly to the lifeless form on the bed. “Soon my work will be done.”

With gloved hands, he picked up the telephone receiver at the bedside and dialled ‘000’, the police emergency number. Quickly, lucidly, in a voice he made no attempt to disguise, he left his morbid message with an anonymous officer in the Police Communications Centre. Then, he slipped out into the night as silently as he arrived.

Tired, and benumbed with confusion and unanswered questions inundating his mind, Sam arrived at Thiele’s home thirty minutes after receiving the call from Paddy O’Reily. Police were in attendance, and the house was cordoned off with checked, reflective tape strung across the driveway of the modest premises. Two uniform patrol cars and two unmarked cars Sam knew would belong to the detectives at the scene, were parked haphazardly on the street in front of the house. Who the hell was going to book them for illegal parking? Sam thought. Lights glowed from behind curtains and blinds in the homes on either side of, and across the street from, Thiel’s house. His neighbours huddled on their porches, craning to get a view of proceedings next door. Little did they know, very soon they would be besieged by police officers wanting statements about what they might have seen, or heard.

Sam spotted Paddy talking to a uniformed officer who was gesturing pointedly in the direction of Paddy’s car, no doubt suggesting to the newshound it would be both prudent and appreciated if he were to leave the immediate area without delay.

Paddy turned his back to the gesturing officer and recognised Sam’s car. He walked briskly across the street and spoke through the open window.

“Jesus Sam, where have you been?”

“I got here as fast as I could. What happened here?”

“It’s Kevin Thiele, so it is,” Paddy confirmed. “I can’t get any closer, but the whisper is his throat has been cut, from ear-to-ear.”

“You know that already?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Of course,” Paddy shrugged. “It’s my job to know.”

Sam shook his head. “Bloody department leaks like a sieve.”

“You knew this Thiele bloke, right?” Paddy asked.

“I played squash with him just a few hours ago. Any other details?”

“The department might leak like a sieve, but no one’s talking to me directly. I’m getting only snippets I’ve managed to overhear from those loose-lipped galoots across the street.” Paddy jerked a thumb at the crime scene behind him. “All I know is someone carved him another breathing hole.”

“Well that won’t work,” Sam said sarcastically. “How did you find out about it?”

“I was mooching around headquarters, as I do, drinking coffee with a few of the lads, and hoping for any interesting tidbits. I was about to call it a night when the call came in. There was such a flap going on, nobody seemed to notice I was still around. I followed the convoy of cop cars heading this way.”

“Who made the call?” Sam probed.

“Jesus, Sam, what am I, the Police Commissioner?”

“I know you, remember?” You’ve normally got all the facts, and half the story, written by now.”

“Aye,” Paddy nodded, “but this is different. The lid’s on tighter than a Catholic nun’s knickers, so it is.”

“Is Foley in there?” Sam indicated towards the house.

“He arrived just before you,” Paddy answered. “Bloody rude he was and all. Told me to foock off out of it, so he did. The language was downright foockin’ awful.”

Sam indicated the officer who had been remonstrating with Paddy earlier. “Who’s the uniform?”

“Don’t know. John something or other,” Paddy answered. “I’ve seen him around a bit. He hasn’t been here long. A Senior Constable transferred in from Alice Springs I think. I did hear Foley promise to bust him back to school crossing guard if he let anyone through not directly involved. He’s doing the job. I tried to get in for a quick peek, but he threatened to put the bracelets on me.”

“The police don’t do school crossing guard,” Sam observed absently.

“What?”

“Never mind,” Sam said.

Sam saw Russell Foley appear in the doorway of Thiele’s house. He watched as Russell walked across the lawn and spoke briefly to the uniformed officer standing sentinel at the entrance to the short driveway. The officer moved across to his patrol car in response to instructions from Foley.

Foley looked up and glanced across the street. In the blue, grey light of the approaching dawn, he spotted Paddy talking to Sam Rose.

“s**t,” he murmured. He paused, changed his mind about going back inside the house, and walked purposely across the street. He positioned himself between Paddy and Sam’s car.

“Well, excuse fooking me!” Paddy complained.

Foley ignored the Irishman. “What the f**k are you doing here?” he hissed at Sam.

“And a very good morning to you, Russell,” Sam smiled.

Foley turned to Paddy. “Did you call him?”

“Oh, you did notice I was here?” Paddy answered sarcastically.

did“As a matter of fact,” Sam interrupted, “I just happened to be passing by when I noticed all the activity. Thought I’d stop and see what was going on. You know me, Russ, I can’t help myself.”

“You’re a f*****g liar, Rose. Where were you heading?”

“Home.”

“From where?” Russell demanded.

“Are you interrogating me, Russell? Jesus, leave me alone. I’m a concerned citizen. And, unless you’re going to move that cordon to include this side of the street, I have every right to be here watching the Territory’s finest at work.”

“Get in my way mate, and I will do you,” Russell spat.

will“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a f*****g promise!”

“I’ll try to remember that. In the meantime, I don’t suppose you would care to tell me what you’ve got in there?” Sam nodded in the direction of the house.

“No, I wouldn’t care to tell you,” Foley spat. “It’s none of your business. You’ll find out when the rest of the public does, and that will be when, and if, I decide to release a statement. Now, why don’t you piss off and let me do my job?”

“I’m not keeping you, Russell,” Sam said. “Please, carry on.”

Foley glared at Sam, then at Paddy, as if searching for something else to say, then turned his back and strode purposefully across the street. Sam and Paddy watched him in silence until he disappeared inside the house.

Paddy, a full head shorter than both Sam and Foley, had been watching the exchange between the two adversaries. Like a prolonged rally at a tennis tournament, his head swivelled from one to the other. When Foley entered the house, he turned to Sam.

“s**t, I was getting dizzy, so I was. Nice to see you two are still such good friends.”

“Bite your Irish arse, Paddy,” Sam snapped as he started his car.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Paddy asked.

“I’m going home, where I should have stayed all along. That stubborn prick is not going to tell me anything.”

“What about what I found out at the morgue? Don’t you want to know what I learned?”

“Not if it can wait a few hours. I’ll meet you in my office at ten o’clock. We’ll catch up then. Right now I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, okay, I reckon it can wait. I might hang around here a bit longer. You never know what I might hear. You go on then. You get back to whatever, or whoever I dragged you away from. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Russell Foley ordered everyone from the room. When he was alone, he closed the door and stepped to the foot of the bed. For a long time, he stood and stared at Kevin Thiele’s body.

A gaping s***h across Thiele’s throat grinned hideously back at him. In the still, humid air, he could just make out the faint, metallic smell he always associated with still warm, human blood.

Thiele had died with his eyes open. The fixed glaze of death left him staring unseeing at the ceiling. Foley cast his eyes around the sparsely furnished room. Kevin Thiele’s unpretentious, even dull lifestyle was reflected in his house. The furnishings, although neat and clean, were plain and inexpensive. It seemed to Foley that, in life, Kevin Thiele had been just as he appeared to those who knew him, an uninspiring and somewhat unmotivated character.

He allowed his eyes to linger slowly and deliberately over the scene. What sort of sick bastard were they dealing with here? The creep was taunting them now. Jesus, they had to catch this monster. When was it going to stop? How many more would die before they caught this sick f**k?

He was tired. He had been working around the clock on the murders and still had no real leads. The killer left no trace of his presence at any of the other murders, and he knew this would be no different. He knew it was the same man. He didn’t know how he knew; it was a feeling born of years doing the job he did; an instinct that rarely let him down, and he trusted that instinct. What he was looking at was not the work of a copycat killer, or any other deranged individual; it was the work of the same person responsible for the other three murders. For the first time he could remember in his entire career, Russell Foley felt concern they might never catch this guy.

His thoughts turned to Sam Rose. What was he doing snooping around? That was all he needed, that horny bastard poking his nose in where it was neither wanted nor needed. After Rose left the job, he hoped never to cross paths with his former partner again, but in a city as small as Darwin, he supposed it was too much to hope for. Both he and Rose had amassed friendships within the force over the years, friendships they shared. He should, he supposed, consider himself lucky they had never run into each other until Sam came to his office asking for information about the murders. The guy had a nerve; Foley would give him that. Fancy thinking he could coerce information from him. He was a civilian for Christ’s sake! What was he doing here in the middle of the night? Foley knew full well it was not admiration for the police, or even idle curiosity that brought the former cop here at this hour. He guessed that O’Reily had rung him. Paddy was everywhere, sometimes even before the cops, which was embarrassing. But why would Paddy ring Sam? Was Sam working for the media? Was he hired to work with Paddy? Was the media’s faith in the police to find the killer so degraded they would hire a private investigator instead of letting the police do their job? He hoped not, but the question gave rise to an apprehension that bothered him.

When Sam entered his home, he heard the shower running. He looked in the bedroom, and found the unmade bed empty. Ann had picked up her discarded clothes, and they now lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed. He walked along the hall to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and stepped inside. Steam hung heavy in the air in the confined space. Through the opaque glass of the shower cubicle, he watched Ann as she went through the motions of showering. Sam was unable to drag his eyes from the outline of her body. He listened for a moment to the soft tune she was humming, oblivious to his presence.

Finally, he reached down, untied his shoes, and discarded them where he stood. Soon the rest of his clothing lay in a dishevelled heap in the middle of the bathroom floor. He moved silently to the cubicle, reached out and slid open the door.

Startled, Ann gasped loudly, then relaxed when she saw who it was. She allowed her eyes to wander slowly over his naked body. “You were not there when I woke up. I missed you.” She looked into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you; you were sleeping so soundly.”

“Where did you go?”

“I got a call. There was another murder.”

“Oh no,” Ann groaned. “Not another one, who this time?”

“A solicitor from Legal Aid, his name is… was, Kevin Thiele.”

“I don’t think I know him,” she mused.

“That’s not surprising,” Sam commented. “He was never a particularly conspicuous character. From what I knew of him, he kept pretty much to himself.”

“Is it the same person responsible?”

“I honestly don’t know. The police are not talking, but I’m willing to bet it is.”

Once again, Ann’s eyes roamed slowly over his body. “You didn’t go out like that I hope?”

“Of course,” he smiled, “it’s hot outside.”

Ann’s eyes lingered on his groin, noticing he was unable to prevent the transformation happening there.

“It’s a big shower,” she invited. “There’s more than enough room for two.”

Sam stepped into the cubicle and took her into his arms, pulling her body hard against him. The water cascaded, strong and hot, over their bodies. She raised her face to his, and he kissed her hungrily. Beneath the noise of the rushing water, he heard a soft moan escape her throat. He supported her weight in his arms as she bent her knees slightly, then jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Sam crossed his arms in the small of her back, and gripped her tightly to him. He stepped forward and supported her back against the wall of the alcove. Steam swirled around their faces as they kissed and whispered into each other’s mouth. Sam freed one hand from behind her, reached down between them, and guided himself into her. Ann settled onto him and sighed deeply. She tossed her head back and let the powerful spray strike her full in her upturned face. It was over quickly, neither of them able to contain their urgent need for the other. Under the hot, stinging needles of water beating down on them, they came together in a frenzy of loud moans and tangled limbs.

Afterwards, they washed each other, alternatively sponging and soaping the other"s body. Sam lavished in the pleasure of it. He felt like they had been together always, and yet it was as if they were young lovers exploring themselves for the very first time. Sam wanted to ask where all this might be leading, but he knew it was too soon.