The Bat (32 page)

Claudia looked at her husband with sparkling eyes.

“I met Claudia at one of the roadshows. She was performing as a contortionist. She can fold herself up like an envelope even today. So I don’t know what I’m doing with this big Buick. Ha ha ha. I wooed her every day for more than a year before she so much as allowed me to kiss her. And afterward she told me she had fallen in love the first time she saw me. That alone was sensational, bearing in mind that this nose of mine had already taken a lot of beatings. Then she went and played the prude for one whole, long, awful year. Women scare the wits out of me sometimes. What do you say, Harry?”

“Well,” Harry said, “I know what you mean.”

He looked at Birgitta. She put on a weak smile.

After spending three-quarters of an hour covering a distance that normally takes twenty minutes, they pulled in at the town hall, where Harry and Birgitta thanked him for the lift and jumped out. The wind had picked up in the town as well, and they stood in the gusts palpably not knowing quite what to say.

“A very unusual couple,” Harry said.

“Yes,” Birgitta said. “They’re happy.”

The wind whirled and shook a tree in the park, and Harry imagined he saw a hirsute shadow dart for cover.

“What do we do now?” Harry said.

“You come home with me.”

“OK.”

Birgitta poked a cigarette into Harry’s mouth and lit it.

“Well earned,” she said.

Harry reflected. He didn’t feel too bad. He pulled the sheet over him.

“Are you embarrassed?” Birgitta laughed.

“I just don’t like your lustful eyes on me. You may not want to believe it, but in fact I’m not a machine.”

“Really?” Birgitta playfully nibbled his lower lip. “You could have fooled me. That piston of—”

“All right, all right. Do you have to be so vulgar now that life has become so blissful, sweetheart?”

She cuddled up to him, resting her head on his chest.

“You promised another story,” she whispered.

“Indeed.” Harry took a deep breath. “Let me see. So this is the start. I was in the eighth year and a new girl joined the parallel class. Her name was Kristin, and it took only three weeks for her and my best pal, Terje, who had the whitest teeth in the school and played guitar in a band, to become officially declared boyfriend and girlfriend. The problem was she was the girl I had been waiting for all my life.” He paused.

“So what did you do?”

“Nothing. Went on waiting. In the meantime I became Kristin’s pal—she could chat about everything under the sun with me, she felt. She could confide when things between her and Terje weren’t working, without realizing that her pal was quietly exultant, waiting for the moment to strike.”

He grinned.

“Christ, how I hated myself.”

“I’m shocked,” mumbled Birgitta, affectionately stroking his hair.

“A friend invited a gang of us to his grandparents’ unoccupied farmhouse the same weekend that Terje’s band had a gig. We drank homemade wine and Kristin and I sat on the sofa chatting late into the night. After a while we decided to explore the house and went up to the loft. There was a locked door, but Kristin found a key hanging on a hook and unlocked it. We lay side by side on the duvet of a very undersized four-poster. In the hollows of the bed linen there was a layer of something black, and I jumped when I saw it was dead flies. There must have been thousands of them. I saw her face close to mine, surrounded by dead flies on the white pillow, bathed in a bluish light from the moon, so big and round outside the window, which made her skin seem transparent.”

“Pah!” Birgitta said and rolled on top of him. His eyes lingered on hers.

“We talked about everything and nothing. Lay quite still listening to nothing. In the night a car drove past on the road and the light from the headlamps swept across the ceiling and all kinds of strange shadows stole through the room. Kristin finished with Terje two days later.”

He turned on his side with his back to Birgitta. She snuggled up to him.

“What happened next, Valentino?”

“Kristin and I met in secret. Until it was no longer secret.”

“How did Terje take it?”

“Well. Sometimes people react in textbook manner. Terje told his friends to choose: him or me. I think it was a landslide victory. In favor of the boy with the whitest teeth in the school.”

“That must have been terrible. Were you lonely?”

“I don’t know what was worst. Or who I pitied most. Terje or myself.”

“At least you and Kristin had each other.”

“True, but some of the magic had gone. The ideal girl was gone, you see.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a girl who had left a boy for his best friend.”

“And for her you were the boy who had unscrupulously used his best friend to get in with her.”

“Exactly. And that would always be there. Under the surface maybe, but nevertheless smoldering away with unspoken, mutual contempt. As though we were accomplices responsible for a scandalous murder.”

“So you had to make do with a relationship that wasn’t perfect. Welcome to reality!”

“Don’t get me wrong. I think our common sins in many ways bound us closer together. I think we really did love each other for a while. Some days were … perfect. Like drops of water. Like a beautiful painting.”

Birgitta laughed. “I like you when you talk, Harry. Your eyes seem to light up when you say things like that. As if you’re back there. Do you long to go back?”

“To Kristin?” Harry wondered. “I may long to go back to the time we were together, but to Kristin? People change. The person you long for may no longer exist. Bloody hell, we all change, don’t we. Once something has been experienced, it’s too late, you can’t get back the feeling of experiencing the same thing for the first time. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is.”

“Like being in love for the first time?” Birgitta said quietly.

“Like being in love … for the first time,” Harry said, caressing her cheek. Then he took another deep breath.

“There’s something I have to ask you, Birgitta. A favor.”

The music was deafening and Harry had to lean in to hear what he was saying. Teddy was effusing about his new shooting star, Melissa, who was nineteen years old and, right now, setting the place on fire, which, Harry had to admit, was no exaggeration.

“Rumors. That’s what does it, you know,” Teddy said. “You can advertise and market as much as you like, but ultimately there’s only one thing that sells, the rumor mill.”

And rumors had obviously done their job because for the first time in ages the club was nearly full. After Melissa’s cowboy and lasso number the men were on their chairs, and even the female minority was applauding politely. “See,” Teddy said. “That’s not because she’s found a novelty number, it’s classic striptease, God knows it is. We’ve had a dozen girls here doing the same number and no one raised an eyebrow. The reason this is different: innocence and emotion.”

From experience, however, Teddy knew that such waves of popularity were sadly a passing phase. On the one hand, the public was always on the lookout for something new; on the other, this industry had a nasty tendency to consume its own offspring.

“Good striptease requires enthusiasm, you know,” Teddy shouted over the disco rhythms. “Not many of these girls can maintain the enthusiasm, however hard they work at it. Four shows, every fuckin’ day. You lose interest and forget the crowds. I’ve seen it happen too many times before. Doesn’t matter how popular you are, a trained eye can see when a star is extinguished.”

“How?”

“Well, they’re dancers, aren’t they. They have to listen to the music, get inside it, you know. When they’re ‘edgy’ and a tiny bit ahead of the beat, it’s not what you might think, a sign that they’re overenthusiastic. Quite the opposite, it’s a sign they’re fed up and want to get it over with asap. Also, often subconsciously, they cut down on the movements so that it becomes more suggestive than complete. It’s the same with people who have told the same joke too many times; they start leaving out the small but vital details that make you laugh at the punchline. That’s the kind of thing it’s difficult to do anything about—body language doesn’t lie, and it transmits itself to the audience, you know. The girls are aware of the problem and to spice up the show, to help it take off, they have a few drinks before going onstage. Occasionally a few too many. And then …” Teddy held a finger against one nostril and sniffed.

Harry nodded. Familiar story.

“They discover powder, which unlike alcohol gives them a buzz and they’ve heard it also helps to keep them slim. Soon they have to take more to get the high they need to give of their best every evening. Soon they have to take it just to perform the shows. And soon the effects are visible, they notice they’re losing concentration and begin to hate the drunken, cheering audience. Then one night they march off the stage. Furious, and in tears. They argue with the manager, take a week’s holiday then come back. But they can’t
feel
the atmosphere anymore, can’t feel the inner sense that helped them to time things right. Audiences vote with their feet and in the end it’s time to go on the street and move on.”

Yes, Teddy had his finger on the pulse. But all of that lay in the future. Now it was time to milk the cow, and right now it was standing on the stage with large eyes and udders full to bursting and was probably—all things considered—a very happy cow.

“You wouldn’t believe who comes here to check out these
new talents of ours,” Teddy chuckled, brushing his lapel. “Some of them come from your very own profession, if I can put it like that. And they’re not exactly boys on the bottom rung, either.”

“Bit of striptease doesn’t hurt anyone, does it.”

“We-ell,” Teddy drawled. “Don’t know about that. So long as they settle up for the damage afterward, I suppose the odd graze doesn’t hurt.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Not a lot. Enough of that. What brings you to these parts, Officer?”

“Two things. The girl who was found in Centennial Park turned out to be a little less naive than first impressions indicated. The blood samples showed she was full of amphetamines and on closer investigation the trail led here. In fact, we discovered she had been on the stage here earlier the night she went missing.”

“Barbara, yes. Tragic, wasn’t it.” Teddy did his best to assume a grieving exterior. “Not much of a stripper, but an absolutely great girl. Have you found anything?”

“We were hoping you might be able to help us, Mongabi.”

Teddy ran a hand nervously through his slicked-back hair.

“Sorry, Officer. She wasn’t in my stable. Talk to Sammy. He’ll be in later.”

A pair of enormous satin-clad tits obscured the view between them for a moment, then they were gone and a colorful cocktail was standing on the table beside Harry.

“You said you came here for two things, Officer. What was the second?”

“Oh, right. A purely private matter, Mongabi. I was wondering if you had seen my friend over there before?” Harry pointed to the bar. A tall black figure in a smoking jacket waved to them. Teddy shook his head.

“Are you absolutely sure, Mongabi? He’s quite well
known. Before too long he’s going to be an Australian boxing champion.”

There was a pause. Teddy Mongabi’s eyes went shifty.

“What is it you would like to …?”

“Heavyweight, goes without saying.” Harry found the straw among the umbrellas and slices of lemon in the fruit juice and sucked.

Teddy forced a smile. “Listen, Officer, am I mistaken or were we just having a cozy conversation?”

“Indeed we were. But not everything in life is cozy, is it. Cozy Time is over.”

“Listen, Officer Holy, I don’t think what happened recently was any nicer than you do. I’m sorry about it. Even though you should bear your part of the guilt, you know. When you came in here and sat down tonight, I thought it was with a common understanding that all that was behind us. I believe we can agree on a number of things. You and I, we speak the same language, Officer.”

There was a second’s silence as the disco music suddenly stopped. Teddy hesitated. There was a loud gurgle as the last of the fruit juice disappeared up the straw.

Teddy swallowed. “For example, I know that Melissa has no special plans for the rest of the evening.” He sent Harry an imploring look.

“Thank you, Mongabi, I appreciate the thought. But I simply don’t have the time right now. I have to finish this business first, and then I’m off.”

He pulled a black police truncheon from his jacket.

“We’re so damn busy I don’t even know if I have the time to kill you properly,” Harry said.

“What the hell …?”

Harry got up. “I hope Geoff and Ivan are on duty tonight. My friend was
so
looking forward to meeting them, you know.”

Teddy struggled to his feet.

“Close your eyes,” Harry said, and struck.

“Yuh?”

“Hello, is that Evans?”

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“Hi, this is Birgitta. Inger’s friend. We met at the Albury a couple of times. I’ve got long, blonde, slightly reddish hair. Do you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you. How are you doing? How did you get hold of my number?”

“I’m fine. Bit up and down. You know. Bit depressed because of Inger and all that, but I won’t bother you with it. I got your number from Inger, in case we had to contact her when she was in Nimbin.”

“I see.”

…

“Yes, the thing is I know you have something I need, Evans.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Stuff.”

“I understand. Hate to disappoint you, but I doubt I have what you’re after. Listen … er, Birgitta—”

“You don’t understand, I
have
to meet you!”

“Easy now. For what you need there are hundreds of other suppliers, and this is not a secure line, so I suggest
you don’t say anything you shouldn’t. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“What I need starts with ‘m,’ not ‘h.’ And you’re the only person who has it.”

“Rubbish.”

“OK, maybe there are a few others, but I don’t trust any of them. I’m buying for several people. I need a lot and I pay well.”