cases.’
‘Never heard of it,’ she said. ‘Might try it one day.’
She dried my hair with a towel. ‘Cutting time. Sit in the first chair. Warmest place.’
I changed chairs.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘how do you want it?’
‘Actually,’ I said, looking at her in the mirror, ‘I think I’ll give the cutting part a miss, Cindy.’
Cindy froze. Terror in her eyes, tiny step backwards.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not bad news. Bad news doesn’t have a shampoo first, anyone can come in, see me in the chair, get a good look at me.’
‘Who are you?’ she said, voice controlled, scared but under control.
‘A friend,’ I said. ‘Someone who wants you to stay alive. We want to talk to you about Darren. You talked to the police, I know. This is different.’
‘How different?’ She wasn’t looking at me, looking towards the door, possibly calculating her chances of reaching it.
‘Cindy,’ I said. ‘Look at me, look at me. Don’t be a dork, think you can run out the door, that’ll save you. Nothing to fear from me. I’m your best chance of staying alive. Forget witness protection, that number they gave you to ring. Rang it now, you’d be saved, would you? Batman, out of the sky, saves you?’
She swallowed. ‘That’s Superman. Batman comes in the Batmobile.’
‘Superheroes. Can’t get my superheroes straight. Darren had a big trust in cops, did he? Did he?’
‘No,’ she said, meeting my eyes in the mirror. ‘Didn’t trust anyone. Specially not cops.’
‘Wise man,’ I said. ‘Wisdom of an ex-cop.’
‘So wise he’s dead.’
‘No-one’s wise enough. Unfortunately.’
Cindy hugged herself. ‘What more can I tell?’
‘Things you didn’t tell the cops, right?’
‘Maybe. Some. I don’t know?’
‘Darren ever talk about someone called Algie?’
‘Algie? Didn’t say it like that.’
‘Didn’t say it like what?
‘Algie. Said it like El G.’
‘El G?’
‘Yeah, y’know, like El Torro?’
‘I get it. El G. Darren talk about El G?’
She shrugged. ‘Well, after the burg…’
‘What burg’s that?’
‘More like a hurricane than a burg,’ she said.
‘Place destroyed. Fifteen grand’s worth of damage.’
‘Darren said what?’
‘I dunno, El G. He said, fucking El G.’
‘He said, fucking El G. Like El G did it? You tell the cops that?’
‘No.’
‘What else didn’t you tell them?’
She hesitated.
Two cars went by in quick succession. Rush hour in Beachport.
‘Cindy,’ I said, ‘they’ve done the show. This is the tell.’
‘He said-Darren said-don’t worry, what they want, the lawyer’s got.’
‘The lawyer. Who’s the lawyer?’
‘In Melbourne. Fielding something, they used to write. I don’t know. I was out the house so quick. Fielding, three names. You want some coffee?’
‘Coffee would be nice, Cindy,’ I said. ‘Black.’
‘Sugar?’
‘Just the one. Thank you.’
There was a glass percolator on a warmer at the back of the room. She came back with coffee in glass cups.
‘Want to move?’ she said.
‘This is comfortable. Nice chair. You happy standing?’
‘Stand all day.’
We drank coffee. ‘Good, this,’ I said.
‘Real coffee,’ Cindy said. ‘Miss coffee places. Nescafe, that’s what they give you around here.’
‘Darren ever talk about someone called Lefroy?’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘Yeah. Saw him killed. Throat cut.’
My skin seemed to shrink, pull tight around my mouth, eyes. ‘Darren saw him killed?’ I said.
Cindy had a sip of coffee. ‘Video. This bloke showed them a video. Girl killed too.’
Never change your tone. Berglin’s rule. Start with it, stay with it. Want another tone, get someone else. ‘What bloke is this?’
‘El G. Took them to this place, big house, with like a little cinema.’
‘Who’s they?’
‘I dunno. Darren and his mates, I dunno. Cops. We stayed in a hotel after the burg, Darren got so pissed, just talked. I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t know about that part of his life.’
‘So they saw a video of a man called Lefroy and a woman being killed? That’s what you’re saying?’
‘Yeah. Darren told me that. Said it made him sick. The man laughed.’
‘El G?’
‘Yeah. El G laughed. Showed it twice, Darren said. Funny name that. Stuck in my mind.’
‘El G?’
‘No. Lefroy. Spell it how?’
‘Wouldn’t have a clue,’ I said.
A customer came in the door, elderly lady, head wrapped in a woollen scarf.
‘Not late am I, Marie?’ she said. ‘Lovely and warm in here.’
‘Have a seat, Gwen,’ Cindy said. ‘Won’t be a moment.’
‘On the night,’ I said, ‘Darren went out to the boat, never came back. That’s it?’
‘Where’d you hear that?’ Astonishment. ‘Cop said it must’ve gone on for an hour, more. Cut his ears off, burnt his hair off, don’t you know that?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Just testing. The lawyers-Fielding, Something, Something?’
‘Yes.’
She picked up a comb and combed my hair. ‘Nice hair.’
‘My father’s hair,’ I said. ‘Couldn’t give him anything back.’
I had plenty of time to think on the trip back. El G, Scully, Hill and Bianchi watching a video of the killing of Howard Lefroy and Carlie Mance. A quick video, home movie really. Made while I was telling Mackie there wasn’t any point in tailing Howard’s brother when he left. El G enjoying it, laughing, showing it again. Did it show the moment of Carlie’s execution? The man in rut behind her, between her legs, her head pulled back, blood squirting up the tiles?
One to do the killing, one to film it. Was that the way it had worked? Was the killer the driver, the man made up to look like Dennis Lefroy? Or was it the man who must have been in the boot when Dennis drove into the garage? Perhaps there were two men in the boot?
Years later, Bianchi burgled, then tortured and killed. Tortured for what? Pleasure? Something else?
The killers Bobby sent had come up behind me on a country road. How could they know where I’d be?
I had a hamburger at a McDonald’s on the outskirts of Geelong, read the
