Blood Tears (3 page)

We flung open our doors
and hared off after the man. He looked around in panic, speeding
up. We chased him down the street, people jumping out of our
way.

I began to gain on him,
Baz falling behind, his breathing laboured and harsh. The man threw
a desperate glance over his shoulder and sprinted across the road,
doubling back on himself, heading for the main road. I cut across
the road at an angle that helped close the distance between us. We
both pounded down the street.

The next few minutes
were a blur of nightmare. We never really knew what the man was
thinking at that moment. Maybe he thought he could dodge around the
traffic to lose me but misjudged, or maybe he just didn’t look
properly.

“
Stop!” I remember yelling at him. “
Stop!
”

But he didn’t. He ran
right out on to the highway, forcing a semi-trailer to slam on its
brakes, locking them up. The driver struggled, battling to keep his
rig on the road.

“
Out
of the way! Get out of the damn way!” Baz shouted loudly, pushing
the pedestrians standing around watching in horror away from the
road.

The man froze in fear
in the middle of the highway, and that was the last I saw of him as
the semi-trailer smashed into him.

Chapter 2

It was a traumatic
scene. After the impact, it took the truck driver a few tense and
uncertain moments to bring his rig safely to a halt, the trailer
jackknifed across the highway, the smell of burning tyres rancid in
the air. The remains of the young man lay scattered across the road
in a sickening tableau.

I ran over to help the
driver climb out of the truck. He collapsed at the side of the
road, shaking uncontrollably, his face stripped of all colour.

“
I
tried to stop. I tried,” he kept repeating. “He came out of nowhere
– right in front of me. I tried to stop.”

“
We
know you did,” I soothed absently, my mind racing through all the
things Baz and I needed to do.

I didn’t need a coroner
to tell me there was no saving the young man, so traffic control
was our first priority. Although the Coastal Range Highway wasn’t
busy compared to many others, it was still an important route with
a regular flow of traffic.

“
Shit, Tezza,” Baz said grimly, slipping his phone back into
his pocket. “What a mess. I’ve rung the Super. It’s going to be
hard for us to manage this by ourselves.”

“
Let’s rope in some of the townsfolk for traffic duty. I’ll
look after that. The semi is completely blocking the highway, so
I’ll detour it through the back streets here.”

“
Sounds like a plan. I’ll go talk to the supermarket owner and
find out what happened.”

I blocked off the
highway at either end of the accident scene with bollards and crime
scene tape, before rounding up the more sensible and less shocked
people amongst those standing around. I set them to work directing
traffic off the main stretch to wind through the back streets
before safely rejoining the highway again. When that activity was
operating to my satisfaction, I took out my notebook, and commenced
interviewing.

In between collecting
initial statements, Baz came over to me, reading through his
notes.

“
Mr
Grimmell told me the guy came into the store and loitered for a
while, arousing his suspicions. It seems he was waiting for the
other customers to leave, before pulling out his knife, and
threatening Grimmell. He handed over the cash and the guy ran
out.”

I glanced over to the
highway at the horrific sight. “He’s paid a heavy price for that
petty crime.”

Baz held my eyes, his
face serious. “There will be an investigation, Tezza. There’s no
way around it.”

I closed my eyes. “I’m
screwed. I’m going to be fired this time.”

“
Don’t say that. You didn’t do anything wrong. I heard you
yelling at him to stop.”

“
I
tried to warn him. I honestly did, Baz.”

He patted my shoulder
in consolation. “I know, so don’t automatically assume the worst. I
was chasing him too.”

“
Why
didn’t he look before he ran out on to the road? He would have seen
that semi bearing down on him.”

“
Can’t really ask him now, can we? Maybe he panicked.” He
scanned his notes again. “Did you get a good look at
him?”

“
Not
really.”

“
He
looked young to me. Mr Grimmell didn’t think he was more than
sixteen.”

“
Oh,
geez.”

He patted my shoulder
again. “Come on, let’s get back to talking to witnesses.” He
checked his watch. “It’s going to be ages before the Wattling Bay
team gets here.” He walked off towards the truck driver. “I’m going
to see if I can get anything out of him.”

“
He’s
in shock. I hope they’re bringing an ambulance with
them.”

“
Yep.
You go talk to the lads. I’m not sure what they
witnessed.”

The two men stood near
the patrol car, subdued, distress showing in their faces.

“
That
was the most awful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t know
how you can be so calm,” Trig said quietly, his hands trembling a
little.

“
I
have a job to do, and a town to look after,” I replied, probably a
tad harsher than I ought to have been in the
circumstances.

Harley looked at me
with unhappy eyes. “Is Finn also as . . . stoic at a scene like
this?”

“
Yes.
Probably more than me. He’s mostly a very composed man.”

The two men exchanged
glances, as if learning a new character facet to their long-time
friend.

“
Did
you both witness the accident?” I asked, and they
nodded.

I spent ten minutes
with each, jotting down notes. When I finished, I told them to stay
where they were, and jogged over to Baz to let him know I was
taking them to the police house.

We joined the traffic
snaking through the back streets, and drove to the Sarge’s house in
silence. I went into the house with them to ensure everything was
in order, as it had been a while since I’d last been inside.

Maybe it was just my
imagination, but I thought I detected the aroma of the Sarge’s
cologne lingering in the air. And even at that tiny reminder of
him, my blazing anguish at being abandoned, which I usually
brutally suppressed, bubbled over, swamping me. I left the house
abruptly, without even saying goodbye to the two men. I sat in the
patrol car, gripping the wheel, and breathing in a controlled way
until the pain abated.

Back to work
, I
reprimanded myself, nosing the car down the driveway.

*****

It was a long,
exhausting, and emotionally draining night. The only bright point
was that we were spared the personal attentions of the Super, Mr X
and Zelda turning up instead. That was a double bonus for me,
because not only did I think Mr X was pretty cute, but also the
Super and I remained largely estranged.

But not even that small
comfort was enough to allay the sheer awfulness of the night. When
Baz and I finally handed over to the Big Town force, we left them
guiding a team trying to free the truck from its jackknife, a job
that would surely take hours. I pitied the townsfolk living near
the accident site, as there would be little rest for them
tonight.

Grateful for once that
I lived five kilometres out of town, I flopped into bed that night,
asleep before my head hit the pillow.

But the next day was
little better. We spent half of the morning on traffic duty again
until the semi-trailer was finally able to be driven away. Then we
returned to the station to deal with the endless reports to be
compiled and statements to be typed up.

“
I
hate this job,” I muttered to my computer, carelessly banging out
words on my keyboard.

“
No,
you don’t. You have the makings of a good cop,” assured Baz,
working more quietly at his own computer. “And to prove it, how
about making me a cup of tea?”

Grumbling, though
secretly glad for the distraction, I made both of us some tea. I
plonked his mug (Young Kenny’s, for the flavour) in front of him,
slopping some over the side, while I carried mine carefully back to
my desk.

Baz took a sip and
grimaced. “I don’t know what tea you’re using, love, but this is
not good.”

“
Sorry,” I said insincerely. “Can’t afford anything
better.”

“
Tezza,” he said, with so much sympathy it made me feel bad.
For a second. “Just ask. Like I said – you have friends in high
places.”

“
And
you’re full of it, Baz. I don’t have friends in the police force.
And . . .” I looked down at my keyboard for one sad moment. “I just
don’t have friends.”

“
You’re not valuing the ones you have much when you say that.
It’s not their fault if you keep shutting yourself off from them.”
I glared at him, not appreciating the advice. Only the ringing of
the bell broke the resultant stare-off.

For once, he stood to
answer the call. After five minutes, he yelled to me, “Trig and
Harley want to know if you’re okay today.”

“
Tell
them to piss off back to the city,” I shouted in reply.

“
She’s okay,” I heard Baz say. “Though don’t accept a cup of
tea from her today.” I could almost hear his full-body shudder.
“It’s not good. It’s almost like she dunks her mood into it or
something.”

More chatting, then Baz
popped his head around the doorway. “I’m taking the lads to the pub
for lunch.”

“
What? It’s only eleven-thirty.”

He strode over to me
and leaned an elbow on my desk, his face uncomfortably close to
mine. His breath smelled like Young Kenny’s armpits, though I
suspected the tea had something to do with that. “Tezza, the lads
are badly shaken about yesterday. They need to debrief. You dumped
them and ran.”

“
I
had to get back,” I half-lied, not willing to admit to him my
visceral reaction to the Sarge’s house.

“
Yeah, I understand that. You’re under disciplinary
supervision, so you want to be vigilant in your job, but . . .
there’s humanity too. These lads aren’t cops. They’re just normal
people who witnessed something terrible yesterday. Frankly, I’m
surprised you didn’t spare them a couple of minutes, and a few
drops of sympathy. Especially as they’re Finn’s
friends.”

I felt ashamed of
myself for not being more empathetic towards them. “I’m sorry, Baz.
Will I lock up?”

He contemplated me.
“Nah. You stay here and mind the fort. I think the lads would be
better off without your company today.”

That stung, but not
enough to overwhelm the giddy sensation of momentary freedom I felt
at his words.

“
Really? Are you sure?” And I could have kicked myself, not
believing those words actually tumbled out of my mouth.

He nodded. “I’m sure.”
He reached the doorway before turning. “I’m trusting you, Tezza.
Behave yourself.”

“
What
the hell do you think I’ll get up to in an hour or two?”

“
Who
could even guess?” was his parting comment.

I waited until I heard
the bell trill on the front door, signifying their exit, and then I
did a brief freedom dance. I wasn’t the best dancer around.
Actually, that was a lie. In any group of people, I was most
probably the
worst
dancer around. The dance I performed was
pure free-form artistic expression, but it felt good. That was
until I realised the three men were watching me through the window
from the station’s carpark, mouths agape. Embarrassed, cheeks
aflame, I sat down and worked on my reports some more.

The phone rang. “Mount
Big Town police station. Senior Constable Fuller speaking.”

“
Tess.” There was no mistaking that husky phone sex voice, or
that exhaled breath of nicotine.

“
Oh,
it’s you.”

She sighed. When I said
the Super and I were estranged, it was really me estranging myself
from her. She was more than willing to move forward. I wasn’t.

“
Put
Baz on.”

“
Sorry. No can do.”

“
Why
not?”

“
He’s
not here.”

I felt her stiffen
through the phone line. “Why the fuck not? Where is he? If he’s in
that fucking crapper again, then tell him to haul his arse back to
the phone, turds and all.”

“
He’s
gone to the pub, ma’am,” I said in my most innocent voice, smiling
to myself.

“
What
the
fuckity fuck
? I’m going to roast his fat arse over an
open flame and serve it for dinner. I gave him instructions about
not leaving you alone for a second.”

“
Yeah, thanks for that. I really appreciate it.”

“
Don’t start that shit with me again, Tess. I’m not in the
mood.”

“
Neither am I,” I snapped. “What do you want? Baz isn’t here,
so I’m it.”

Three ticks of silence.
“The kid that died yesterday. He had no ID on him. Nothing. We
don’t know who he is. Forensics will be lucky to scrape any dental
or finger prints from him. He was fucking jam after that semi hit
him.”

Guilt stabbed me so
badly it hurt. “I didn’t mean to chase him on to the highway. I
yelled at him to stop. He was just a kid.”

Her voice softened. “I
know you tried to stop him. But those shitwits in the city are
investigating this closely, Tessie. You’re skating on wafer thin
ice as it is. I’m doing what I can.”