The Mak Collection (85 page)

He shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t really true, was it? If Andy had gone, Jimmy would have been there anyway, and he would have still been in danger. But dammit, something could have been done.
I should have been there. How could I have not been there? How could I have allowed that?

‘Oh poor Jimmy. I’m so sorry,’ Mak said softly. ‘Will he be okay?’

‘They don’t know.’

Andy didn’t know what else to say. He rested his chin on his hands and frowned, lost in his own thoughts.

‘So there really was a deal? My dad said something about that, and you know what, I didn’t even believe him.’ She shook her head. ‘How could something like this happen?’

‘We don’t know,’ was all Andy could offer.

‘When?’

‘About an hour or so ago.’

She shook her head back and forth as she spoke. ‘I just don’t believe it. I mean, there are precautions, right? Surely there are precautions so things like this can’t ever happen? He’s a convicted killer.
Convicted
, Andy! How the hell do you guys operate over here?’

Andy didn’t know what to say. She was absolutely right. After eighteen months in remand, after eighteen months of investigation and hard work putting their case together, they had finally got him. He confessed. He was convicted in a court of law. Then someone had fucked up. It was unthinkable.

‘Was Karen Mahoney there? Is she okay?’

‘She wasn’t there.’

Mak put her head in her hands, clearly distraught.

‘I’ve gotta go, Andy,’ she said.

Her words snapped him out of his thoughts. ‘Pardon?’

She stood up. ‘I’m not going to stay here like a sitting duck. I’m leaving on the next damn flight out of here.’

Andy stood and grabbed her arm. ‘I don’t think you can do that.’

‘Really?’ Her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘And why is that? Are you saying that he can roam around freely, and
I
can’t? Ha!’ She shook his hand off. ‘And get your hand off me. You don’t have any right.’

‘Makedde, I’m sorry. Just calm down. I’ll have to check with—’

‘No,’ she said, her voice steady. ‘You tell whoever your boss is these days that I’m getting on a plane out of here. I have a job in Hong Kong and I’m taking it.’ She walked over to the chest of drawers and one by one pulled them open, throwing her clothes onto the bed. ‘That was my mistake last time. I should have left. I should have just left when I had the chance.’

‘What’s this about Hong Kong?’ he asked, stunned.

‘Work, Andy. I have to work for a living like everyone else. I can’t just fly around the world spilling my guts at useless multiple-murder trials. And I am not spending the next week here while you guys sit around with your thumbs up your arses hoping for Ed Brown to turn up.’

‘Mak, I understand that you are angry,’ Andy pleaded, watching her helplessly. ‘I understand how you must feel, but we must coordinate things to make sure you are safe. We don’t know what he might be up to, or where he is.’

‘You
understand how I feel
? Oh, I doubt that very much Andy. I doubt that very much indeed.’ She
spat the words, and they stung. ‘You couldn’t coordinate yourselves out of a wet paper bag.’

If Ed was dreaming of any one thing, it would be to abduct Makedde again, as he had shortly before his capture. He was still obsessed with her. Andy knew that. One theory was that Ed saw in Makedde a reincarnation of his mother in her youth. More than any of the innocent young women Ed had murdered, Mak personified for Ed a chance to resolve the abuse he’d received in his traumatic childhood. He was driven to destroy her. She looked passingly like the woman his mother had once been, and that was enough for Ed to target her, just as their choice of high-heeled shoes like his mother’s had been enough to make Ed target the others. The police had already turned over Ed’s cell and found the newspaper image of Makedde taped to the back of a photo of his mother. If there had been any belief that his obsession had waned, that find proved otherwise.

It was no surprise that Mak wanted to flee the country.

‘Mak, you can’t just leave.’

She put her hands on her hips, and gave him what he would describe as a ‘fuck-you look’. Her eyes flashed large and then narrowed again. Her sensuous lips were lost in a tight grimace. If she were the violent type, her hands would probably be around his throat. She was right to be disappointed. Perhaps she was even right to want to shoot the messenger.

‘Mak, you don’t understand—’

‘You’re right. I don’t. And I don’t care any more. You can call your superior and tell him, or her, that I have work in Hong Kong, and that’s where I will be as of the next flight out of here. And I won’t be coming back to Australia except to transfer to that flight home. If they can connect me out of Asia, all the better. You guys had your trial and that’s it now. I’ve done enough. Last time, I stuck around to see that Catherine’s killer was caught. Maybe I did the right thing by Catherine, or maybe it was nothing but childish naiveté to think that I could make some difference to the outcome. But this time I have no reason to stick around. None at all.’

He knew what she meant—her words included him.

Angry tears sprang from her eyes. ‘
We had him.
He was convicted, Andy!’ She shoved the chair and it fell on its side. ‘Dammit! This can’t be real! How could you people let something like this happen?’ He put a hand on her shoulder and she relaxed for a brief moment. He moved in to hold her, just wanting to comfort her, but she pulled away.

‘I’m really sorry about Jimmy,’ she said. ‘I know how close you two are.’ She pulled her suitcase open, and flung wide the doors of the wardrobe. She grabbed her clothes off the hangers and tossed them into the case.

‘Please go,’ she said.

He didn’t move.

She turned.

‘Get out, Andy.
Now.
’

At one-fifteen there was a light knock on the back door of the house.

The lock turned.

Ed Brown was in the process of raiding the kitchen cupboards, and at the first sound he instinctively ran into the living room and leaped behind a large sofa. His ears were still ringing from the blast. He wondered how much he had not heard.

The door opened and closed.

‘Honey? Are you home?’

It was the Prison Lady. Ed debated whether or not to go down and greet her. There was still some slim chance that this was a set-up. He decided to wait for her to climb the stairs and put herself in full view, in case she wasn’t alone. He might not be able to hear the footsteps of the police, beneath the constant ringing. When he saw the Prison Lady he would be able to tell by her face if she was fucking him over or not.

‘Sweetheart?’

There she was, alone. She appeared at the top of the stairs in her Long Bay uniform. She had a bag
of birdseed and a bottle of something wrapped in a brown paper bag.

Ed emerged from behind the sofa.

‘Oh, there you are,’ she exclaimed excitedly and started towards him.

Ed didn’t move. ‘Is everything okay? Were you followed?’ he asked.

‘No, I wasn’t followed. I was really careful. But I’ll tell you, the police are very upset! There are a lot of guys in hospital. That explosive must have worked a charm.’

It had. The blast was intended as a distraction, as Ed escaped through the back tunnel, but even Ed had been shocked by its intensity. He had been lucky to be clear of the shrapnel.

He could feel himself relax. She was telling the truth. It wasn’t a trap. The Prison Lady really liked him. She actually liked helping him.

In the hospital, huh?
That was perfect.

She put the birdseed and bottle down and rushed towards him.

‘Oh, darling!’

Ed had anticipated this would happen. This would be the hardest part. He accepted her embrace, his body squirming at the feel of her against him. He could hardly speak. He hoped she would let go soon.

‘I’m so glad we’re finally together!’ she said, squeezing him excitedly.

‘Me too,’ was his response. He held his breath again.

‘You’re speaking in a really loud voice,’ she said, and looked at him, puzzled.

It was distressing to see her so close, with no bars to protect him.

He pointed to his ears. ‘They’re ringing. It’s getting better though.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, honey!’ Another hug.

‘Um, that’s Rose,’ she said, loosening her grip a little and gesturing to the birdcage that was covered in the centre of the room, her strong arms still, horribly, wrapped around him. ‘I hope you like birds.’

Birds are dirty. Dirty, dirty creatures.

‘That’s fine,’ he said.

‘Oh, sweetheart, we did it!’ she cried and hugged him again.

He tried to put a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away. He wasn’t sure what else to do, what to say.

‘Angie, you don’t have to do all this stuff yourself.’

‘No!’ she snapped, tears rolling down her face. Angie Cassimatis was at the kitchen counter, sobbing. There was an overcooked moussaka cooling on a tray beside her. ‘I can do it,’ she said.

Andy felt helpless. He stepped back and watched as she tried to function as if nothing had happened, as if Jimmy was at work late again, and would be home soon.

‘Angie, what can I help with?’ came a voice from the next room. The TV was on. One of the kids was running around in circles in the living room. He passed the door and did another lap.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Angie whispered, scooping up slices of moussaka and trying to arrange them on plates with shaking hands, near hysterical with sobs.

‘Don’t be sorry, Angie,’ Andy offered. ‘It’s okay. It’s alright. You’re doing great.’

Angie’s mother, Rina, came in and gave her a gentle hug. ‘How are we doing here? Angie,
sweetheart, you go sit down with your father at the table. I’ve got it. The salads are ready. Come on.’

‘Mum?’ came a small impatient voice from the next room. The kids were waiting at the table now for their supper—Jimmy’s kids. Andy barely knew them. He’d only met them a few times over the years. He knew Jimmy had not been the best family man. He had left the parenting up to his wife and he’d spent a lot of time at work, much like Andy had when he was married. Cassandra had left Andy, but Angie had stuck by her husband no matter what.

‘Where’s Pappy?’ It was Kris. He had wandered into the kitchen on his own. Although he was the eldest, he still only came up to Andy’s hip. He had black curls on his head and long, dark eyelashes. Cleo and Olympia were perhaps too young to even understand why their daddy still wasn’t home.

‘Kris, come and sit beside your grandpa.’ Angie’s father came in and carried Kris back into the next room.

Andy had spent much of the day at the hospital, asking questions of the guys who could talk, asking Lewis questions, questions, questions, which had to be written on pieces of paper because he still could barely hear. Jimmy’s condition had worsened. It was touch and go, and Andy was getting regular updates. Andy would do whatever he could for Angie, and Jimmy’s three young kids.

But first he would find Ed Brown. He would hunt down Ed Brown with a new vengeance and this time when the chance arrived there was no way his bullet would miss its mark.

Makedde woke on Sunday morning in a small suite in a boutique hotel in the exclusive harbourside suburb of Double Bay. She had moved from the Hyde Park Plaza in the city to the Sir Stamford, courtesy of the Crown, and had been placed under police protection. Since booking in, she had not left her floor of the hotel, or even ventured close enough to the elevator to consider it.

The hotel room was bright from a determined ray of sunshine sneaking through a gap in the heavy curtains. Waking had been inescapable, though she needed more rest. She felt heavy-headed and slightly depressed. Through her grogginess, Mak recalled having tossed and turned for the first half of the night. She had probably slept a solid four hours in the end. She had briefly considered sleeping tablets, and how she might get her hands on some.

Ah, a new day in Australia with Ed Brown.

She tried to find the humour in the thought, but failed.

Stiff white sheets were pulled up around her chin, and she pushed them down to look around
her. She noticed that the sheets had come free from the corners of the bed, probably from her kicking out in a dream. Her glass of water had fallen on the floor, the carpet already dry around it. The TV table was pulled over to the foot of the bed, where she had left it after anxiously watching in-room movies the night before. There was an empty mini-bar bottle of Baileys on the side table, and beside it a half-eaten packet of salted cashews. Mak’s eyes moved to the pen-and-ink sketches in ornate, old-fashioned frames that hung along the bedroom walls. The suite was a painted chalky midnight blue, and furnished with European-style antiques. She had noticed some Norman Lindsay drawings in the lobby. Makedde would have enjoyed a place like this under different circumstances. As it was, it felt like jail.

‘Good morning,’ she called out, wondering if anyone would reply.

‘G’day,’ came a deep male voice from the next room.

‘Morning. Everything okay?’ It was the female officer now, something Sykes was her name.
Alison? Anne?

‘Yup, I’m fine,’ Mak called back.

The officers were doing security duty in her suite. They’d been at their post all night, sitting in the living area near the front door, giving the bellboys a fright whenever Mak ordered room service. She didn’t envy them, though she supposed there were worse places for guard detail than a Double Bay hotel. At nine o’clock they would
finish their shift, and another couple of complete strangers would be hanging around her. Whether Mak liked it or not, for her own safety she would have security covering her every movement until she left the country for Hong Kong. The first available flight out was that evening, and she would be on it.

Only a few more hours and I am out of here, never, ever to return.