Dark City Blue: A Tom Bishop Rampage (7 page)

Bishop ran until his legs gave out. He slowed and put his hands on his knees. Sweat poured down his face and dripped onto the concrete between his shoes.

He had reached the beginning of the Hume Highway and could make out the First and Last Hotel farther down the road. Bishop pushed through the doors. The joint was country and western themed with wagon wheels pushed up against the pokie machines and murals of horsedrawn carts on the walls. Bishop crossed the gambling floor and made for the pay phone by the toilets. He dropped a couple of coins and dialled.

Jim Patterson answered on the second ring.

Bishop waited with a pot of Vic Bitter at a table by the rear wall. The gamblers paid him no attention and the staff were busy reading magazines and watching late-night television.

Headlights entered the car park and dimmed. The front door opened and closed and Patterson limped around the hotel until he found Bishop.

He pulled up a seat and stared at Bishop from across the table. ‘Can I listen to it?’

Bishop placed the tape recorder on the table. ‘Just press play.’ Bishop sipped at his beer and watched Patterson as he listened to the confession and killing of Con Taylor.

When it was finished, he pressed stop and gently placed the tape recorder on the table. ‘And Rayburn is in on this as well?’ he asked.

‘And his whole crew.’

Patterson sighed. ‘Shit.’

Bishop finished his beer and leant forward. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

Patterson’s eyes hardened and Bishop saw a glimpse of the cop he used to be before his leg was blasted away and his balls were cut off in ES. ‘I’m going to bury them.’

Bishop drove. Patterson got on the telephone and had his rookie, Arden, organise a safe house.

‘Can she be trusted?’ Bishop asked.

‘She’s my wife’s niece.’

Bishop shrugged. ‘If she can’t, that’s going to make for an awkward Christmas.’

Arden called back with an address to a safe house in Broadmeadows. It was a shitty part of town, where the residents knew how to mind their own business and keep their mouths shut.

Bishop pulled the car into the driveway and climbed out. Patterson told him it had been seized from a twenty-two-year-old meth dealer who three weeks earlier had been sentenced to a decade of maximum security.

What was left of the front yard was ground to dirt and filled with pot holes from cars repeatedly bouncing up the gutter to park on it. The windows were covered with bars, the walls on the inside with amateur graffiti. The VPD had furnished the place with a couch, a table, some chairs and mattresses in the two rooms: all of it was second-hand.

Despite opening all the windows, the house still smelt like three-week-old crystal meth. Patterson made tea while they waited; the milk was off so they drank it black while sitting at the table that looked onto the street.

‘Most cops I know would turn a blind eye to something like this,’ Patterson said. ‘Most would think it was too dangerous.’

‘I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.’

Headlights in the street. A vehicle pulled over to the kerb and Arden climbed out. She wore Ugg boots, tracksuit pants and Bishop could see her pyjamas poking out of her sleeves. She carried everything Patterson had requested in a shopping bag from Kmart and as soon as she was through the door, Patterson locked it behind her.

Arden laid the contents of the bag on the table. There was a video camera, tripod, a laptop computer and various batteries and power cables. Patterson gave her a sideways glance as he set up the video camera and booted the laptop. She hadn’t said anything since she stepped through the door and was now leaning against the wall with her attention elsewhere.

‘Is everything alright?’ he asked.

‘Levi’s been sick the last couple of nights. I haven’t been getting much sleep.’

Patterson gave Bishop the explanation: ‘Five-year-old.’ Then back to Arden. ‘At that age they have nightmares all the time.’

‘Yeah,’ Arden said as she checked her phone absently.

Once the video camera was set up and aimed at Bishop, Patterson took a chair across from him. ‘You’re probably familiar with this process, but to reiterate, we’re going to record this conversation on video and immediately back it up by uploading it to our secure server. After that, Arden will stay here with you while I seek warrants based on the evidence we capture tonight and your recording of Con Taylor. Are we understood?’

‘I understand,’ Bishop said.

‘Let’s get started.’ Patterson hit record on the video camera and cleared his throat. He went through the preamble of time, date, interview subject and the full names and ranks of those present. ‘Detective Bishop, would you please tell us about what you know in regards to the Armaguard robbery in St Kilda Road early yesterday morning?’

Bishop told him everything.

The hints and whispers he had heard for months about a network of crooked cops led by a high-ranking member of the department that goes by the name Justice. He told him about the lead he got from the two-bit piece of shit Roach. About how he was too late to stop the robbery in time and how he found the SD footage at the crime scene. Bishop told him about how he traced it to Con Taylor and finally how Rayburn tried to take him out over the whole thing. He spoke quietly, was very specific over the details and times and when he was finished he was covered in sweat and exhausted.

Patterson ended the interview and stopped the recording. He took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes and stretched out his leg. They all heard it crack, then he settled his attention back across the table at Bishop. It took a moment for him to phrase the words he wanted to say, but Bishop knew in a roundabout manner what they were going to be before Patterson spoke a word.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Patterson said quietly. ‘What you’re doing, I wish every member of the department would do it. These bastards need to be stopped but I’ve just sat through you telling me how you’ve spent the past couple of days, and I know your were doing it to stop the robbery and apprehend Taylor but, mate, Jesus.’ He glanced at his notes. ‘There’s breaking and entering, withholding evidence, intimidation … The bosses are going to come down on everyone, including you. You’re looking at a suspension at least.’

‘Just make sure it’s worth it,’ Bishop said.

They heard the roar of engines first. Then saw the vehicles bounce up the gutter and the headlights pour through the barred windows, blinding them.

‘It’s Rayburn,’ Bishop said inching away from the window.

‘How did they find us?’

Bishop tilted his head toward Patterson and clenched his fists.

‘I was with you the whole time,’ he said.

Then it dawned on them both: Arden.

She took a step back and knocked into the wall. ‘I’m sorry. They said they were going to hurt Levi. I didn’t know what to do.’

The colour drained from Patterson’s face. ‘What did you tell them?’

‘I only gave them this location, I swear.’

‘Where’s your son?’ Bishop asked.

Arden’s gaze shifted to Patterson. ‘He’s at your place, with Joyce.’

Patterson got on the telephone, called his wife. Everybody was safe. He told her to get out of the house as fast as possible and check into a hotel.

As he hung up, Rayburn’s stocky figure emerged from behind the headlights. His palms aimed to the sky, he appeared unarmed. ‘Boys, boys, we’re just all being a bit bloody silly right now. How about you toss out that recording, Bishop, and we can all go home. No one needs to get hurt here tonight.’

‘Do you believe him?’ Arden said hopefully.

Bishop and Patterson looked at each other and at the same time said, ‘No.’

‘We can call for backup,’ Arden said.

‘Who’s there to call?’ Bishop said. ‘I’ll keep him talking.’ He pointed to Patterson. ‘Upload the interview to the server.’

Patterson pulled the card from the video camera, pushed it into the laptop and got started. ‘This is going to take a while to upload.’

‘Wudda you say?’ Rayburn yelled. ‘Sound like a plan or what?’

‘I don’t know if I’m too keen on that, Rayburn,’ Bishop yelled from behind the barred window. ‘It sounds like a pretty shitty deal to me.’

‘It is.’ Rayburn laughed. His body broke up the beams of the headlight as he paced the front yard. ‘What other choice do you have?’

Bishop pointed to the computer. ‘How long has that thing got to go?’

‘It’s only at thirty per cent.’ Patterson said.

‘You can’t stay in there forever,’ Rayburn called.

‘I don’t know,’ Bishop said. ‘A couple of milk crates could really tie the room together.’ He looked to Patterson for an update.

‘Forty per cent.’

'Shit.'

‘We’ve got that young woman’s little boy,’ Rayburn yelled.

Terror crossed Arden’s face. ‘He doesn’t,’ Bishop whispered to her before yelling out to Rayburn. ‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’

Rayburn shrugged. ‘We could always go get him.’

‘If you could’ve, you would’ve.’

Rayburn shrugged. ‘You know, if you don't come out, we're going to come in. We’re going to come in.’ He stepped out of the way and Cooper and Warren approached the house holding a battering ram between them.

‘Shit,’ Bishop said.

‘What?’

‘They’re coming in. Where’s the upload at?’

Patterson limped back from the table. ‘Sixty-five per cent. We’re looking at five minutes? Maybe?’

‘Then that’s how long we need to stall them. Someone give me a weapon.’ Patterson and Arden blank faced him. ‘Give me a weapon.’

‘I’ve only got one,’ Patterson said.

‘And you're not getting mine.’

Bishop rubbed his face. ‘Alright, none of this shooting in the leg shit. You two shoot to kill?’

Their training kicked in, they pulled their weapons, stood off centre to the front door and readied themselves to blast away anything that came through it.

Silence in the street and in the house. Then came the battering ram on the front door. It slammed in with an awful thump. The house shuddered. Dust and plaster fell from the ceiling. The ram struck again. More dust and more plaster and still the door wouldn’t give. After a couple of more cracks, Cooper and Warren gave up and tossed the ram on the front lawn, retreating back behind the headlights.

‘What happened?’ Arden asked.

Patterson lowered his weapon and smiled to Bishop. ‘We seized this house from a drug dealer.’

‘So?’

Bishop couldn’t help laughing. ‘He had the doors reinforced to protect himself from police raids.’

Patterson holstered his service weapon. ‘It worked.’

‘So we’re safe?’ Arden said.

The engine of one of Rayburn’s vehicles cranked up. An SUV. It accelerated toward the house. Hit the brakes. Warren climbed out and pulled the cable from the front bumper, wrapped it around the grate of the front door and jumped back into the SUV.

Bishop took a step back from the window. ‘This could be a problem.’

Warren floored the SUV. Tyres spat dirt at the front of the house. The beast catapulted over the nature strip and halfway across the street, the tension on the cable tightened, the front wheels lurched up and pulled at the front of the house.

Everything inside shook. The plaster cracked. The beams loosened.

‘He’s going to tear the whole place down,’ Patterson said.

‘Where’s the upload at?’ Bishop asked.

Patterson wiped dust off the screen. ‘Ninety-three per cent.’

Warren floored the SUV. It sped toward the house. Stopped inches from the front door. Changed gears. Ate up dirt again in reverse. Lurched and yanked at the front of the house.

The meth dealer hadn’t reinforced the door on the cheap. It was connected to the whole front wall, which Warren and the SUV were close to tearing off the house.

‘Ninety-six per cent.’ Patterson yelled.

Warren changed gears and sped the SUV up to the front of the house. Hit the brakes and stopped a few feet from the front of the house. The wall was on the verge of collapse and could have possibly been pulled down by hand but Warren was going to take it with force.

Bishop pointed to the laptop. ‘Let that run. If we’re lucky, it’ll upload before Rayburn finds it.’ He thumbed back at the wall. ‘As soon as this mongrel goes down I want you two to run as fast as you can and don’t stop.’

Arden nodded. Bishop looked to Patterson, he rubbed his knee with a look of concern on his face. ‘I don’t run so fast, mate.’

‘I’ll run with you,’ Bishop said.

Warren floored the SUV and the wall came down.

The house was exposed like some autopsy photograph with its internal parts laid out for the whole world to see. The kitchen had been torn in half and with the mains busted, water sprayed into the yard.

Bishop wiped the dust out of his eyes in time to see Arden disappear over the neighbour's fence and into the darkness. Part of the roof had fallen on Patterson. Bishop pulled him off the floor; he stumbled to his feet, took one look at the smashed laptop in his hand and threw it at the wall. ‘Shit.’

Rayburn emerged from behind the glare of the headlights, shotgun in hand. Warren and Cooper followed him out, toting their own shotguns. They stepped over the rubble as they crossed the yard and both Bishop and Patterson knew that running would only get them shot in the back.

Rayburn looked around at the mess at his feet. ‘Who would have thought the little fucker had the foresight to reinforce the whole bloody house.’ He shot a look over Bishop’s shoulder. ‘Where’s the girl?’

Bishop shrugged.

‘She’ll turn up. Now,’ he said in a cooler tone. ‘Are you going to give me your recording or am I going to have to put a bullet in you?’

Bishop coughed dust. Dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the tape recorder he used to capture Con Taylor’s confession. He held it tight in his hand.

‘Come on,’ Rayburn said. ‘Give it up.’

Bishop tossed him the recording and after listening to it for a couple of seconds, Rayburn destroyed the evidence under the heel of his boot.

Patterson slumped his shoulders, closed his eyes and took a breath. All the scenarios of how the night could end ran through his mind and none of them looked bright.

Rayburn lowered the shotgun. ‘Okay fellas,’ he said. ‘It’s time to—’

His voice was cut short by the single
bleep
of a patrol car’s siren. The prowler cruised at a cautious five kilometres an hour toward the torn-down house at the end of the street.

Rayburn looked over his shoulder at Bishop and Patterson. ‘I won’t hesitate putting a bullet in these two fuckers if one of you mouths off. Now hold up your badges, let them know there’s nothing to fear.’

Bishop unclipped his badge from his belt and held it high along with the others. The patrol came to a stop. A muscle-bound arm hung out of the open window and halfway down the door. It belonged to Senior Sergeant Graham, a uniform out of the Broadmeadows station. His partner, Bate, was behind the wheel.

Senior Sergeant Graham nodded to the group of cops in front of him. ‘We got a call about some noise, but, Jesus,’ he motioned to what was left behind them, ‘what the hell happened?’

Rayburn leant down to the open window and bullshitted the sergeant with some story about chasing up a lead in the Armaguard robbery.

The sergeant went for his radio. ‘I’ll call for backup, get this area locked off for you guys.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Rayburn said. ‘We’ve already called. Major Crimes has got this one. All the fun and games are all over with anyway.’

The sergeant thought about it for a moment before nodding. ‘If you change your mind, just get on the blower.’

The patrol was about to pull away from the kerb when Bishop stepped into the street, blocking its way. ‘Whoa, hold on.’ he said. ‘You boys don’t mind if Lieutenant Patterson and I hitch a ride back to the station back with you?’

Rayburn gripped his shotgun and inched forward with his foot to raise it, but stopped short when he noticed where Bishop was staring. Directly into the camera on the dashboard of the patrol car. Through a fibre optic cable, Bishop’s image was being carried to a router in the boot and relayed back to the Broadmeadows police station and captured.

‘Sure thing,’ Graham said. ‘Climb in.’

Bishop smiled. ‘I guess we’ll see you guys later.’

‘It may be sooner than you think,’ Rayburn said.

Bishop and Patterson climbed in the back of the patrol and they headed down the street. The uniforms made small talk and Bishop played along, but every once in a while when he looked out the rear windscreen, he saw a pair of headlights following them and knew that all this little trip had done was buy them some time.