‘Bugger subtlety. A man’s dead, a dangerous bastard’s on the loose and you’ve still got to find this girl for your poor ex-wife – and for yourself, if you’d just be honest about it. I want to help. No restrictions. I mean it.’
‘Okay. Have you got any of that good plonk to hand and an egg or two?’
‘I think I can manage something a bit better than that. Where the hell did my knickers finish up?’
I got dressed, Tess put on a black kimono and pretty soon we were sitting in the kitchen eating microwaved lasagne and drinking Jacob’s Creek red. She’d also made a salad out of what she called the wreckage of her vegetable garden. Mindful of how touchy she’d been the time before, I ate and drank appreciatively and didn’t jump straight in.
She grinned at me. ‘Okay, you’ve shown enough restraint for now. Ask away?’
‘I want to talk to Ramsay to see if he can help me find Talbot. Can you tell me where he’s likely to be?’
‘Yes.’ She looked at her wrist and grinned again when she realised she hadn’t put her watch back on. Neither had I. I guessed that we both had the same thought: Was I staying the night? She fetched her watch from the bedroom. ‘He’ll be here around ten. He’s going to tell me what went on with the TV interview.’
‘D’you think he’d know anything about Talbot that he wouldn’t tell the police?’
Tess took a mouthful, chewed and swallowed and washed it down with some red. ‘Possibly. Ramsay’s an anarchist. He’s got no time for the police. The question is, if he does know anything, would he tell you?’
This was tricky territory. How do brothers feel about their sister’s lovers? I hadn’t met any of the men my sister had known at uni before she was engaged and swiftly married, so I had no experience in the area.
Tess seemed amused. ‘I can read your mind,’ she said. ‘Will Ramsay be so upset if he knows we’re fucking that he won’t talk to you?’
‘Will he?’
‘Probably. He’d have strong doubts about you, seeing that you’re a lackey of the capitalist establishment. That’s one thing.’
She got up, came around behind me and locked me to the chair with her arms. ‘I don’t think you’re a shit, are you? You’re not just using me to get information.’
I let my head drop back until I could feel it pressing against her breasts, loose under the kimono. ‘Not at all. I went to sleep thinking about you the other night and I thought about you through the day. I was very glad when you rang, Tess.’
She kissed the top of my head. ‘Still thick on top, very thick. That’s nice.’ She let go and returned to her seat. ‘Okay. We’ll have a go at him together. If he does have any clues about getting on to Talbot we’ll find out. Might be best if I got dressed, not that he won’t be able to tell. You’ve got such an apres sex look on you.’
‘You too.’
We finished the food and most of the bottle. Tess showered and put on white jeans, medium heels and a black velvet blouse. Despite what she’d said she seemed a bit nervous about her brother’s visit. She tidied things until I stopped her. I kissed her and held her against me.
‘Like that, is it?’ she said.
‘Like that.’
‘Good. Oh, that’s good.’
We kissed hard and when we let go she laughed and did a few dance steps. ‘You make me feel so young,’ she crooned in a very fair Sinatra impersonation.
‘If you want me to join in with spring is sprung and so on, forget it. I sing as flat as a tack.’
‘Maybe you could be taught. Coffee?’
As she was making the coffee she said, ‘You know it’s a funny thing. There was a kid down at the site today asking questions about us. Sort of, I don’t know, questions like you might ask, or did ask.’
Well, we were at it now. In this business, no matter how hard you try, if you get emotionally involved with one of the players, there comes a time when you have to choose between being honest with the person and the requirements of the investigation. It usually comes out the same way. I kept my voice neutral. ‘A kid?’
She busied herself with the coffee. ‘Yeah. Nice looking youngster. I mean, twenty or so. The girls took to him.’
I hesitated. Show too much interest and her suspicions could be aroused, too little likewise. Think of something neutral, Cliff and do it quickly.
I was saved by a noise outside. Tess finished with the percolator and smoothed back her hair. ‘That’s Ramsay. I can hear that beat-up old Honda of his a mile away. I’ll just go and turn on the front porch light.’
She brushed against me as she left the kitchen and I stood listening to the percolator, wishing that I could be totally honest with her.
18
Ramsay Hewitt, standing a full head taller, followed his sister into the kitchen
‘You remember Cliff Hardy,’ Tess said.
Hewitt did remember. He didn’t like the memory and he didn’t like what he was seeing now. His craggy, but somehow spoiled-looking face, arranged itself in something close to a scowl. “What’s he doing here?’
‘He’s looking for Damien and Megan. I’ve been trying to help him.’
Hewitt shrugged out of his bomber jacket and threw it at a chair. It only half-caught but that was apparently enough for him. He looked at Tess, then at me. His expression was hard to judge. ‘I don’t think you should have anything to do with him. Jesus, Tessie…’
‘Don’t call me that! I’ve told you not to call me that!’
I had the feeling that I was witnessing something more than a brother and sister spat. These people were well into adulthood but their behaviour was childish with some sort of edge.
I’d left my holstered pistol over a chair not far from where Hewitt’s jacket hung. My jacket was covering it and I thought I could remove gun and jacket without exposing it. I moved towards the chair. ‘Perhaps I’d better go, Tess.’
She moved abruptly into my path. ‘No! You’re being stupid, Ramsay. You’re tired out after what you’ve been through. Calm down and have a drink.’
‘That’s your solution for everything,’ he said sulkily. But he let Tess pour him some wine and set it down in front of him.
‘Cliff?’
‘The coffee’s done,’ I said. ‘I’d like some of that.’ I looked at Hewitt. ‘With a splash of Scotch if you’ve got any.’
Hewitt was watching us closely and I suppose he could tell the way things were. A halfway intelligent person usually can. I decided to make it easier for him to react by moving close to Tess while she poured the coffee, opening the cupboard at her direction and adding whisky to both our cups.
We sat at the table. ‘Snap out of it, Ramsay. Tell us about the night in the lockup.’
Us, she said. Hewitt drank some wine and looked resentful but resigned. I guessed that his wish to talk about himself overrode his other feelings. ‘It was interesting,’ he said. ‘Being deprived of your liberty. Powerful stuff.’
‘You should try it long term,’ I said.
He looked at me with something that might have been respect if it hadn’t been filtered through dislike. ‘You’ve been inside?’
‘On remand for a few months in the Bay years back, and I did a short stint at Berrima not so long ago.’
‘Yeah? What for?’
I shrugged and drank some of the laced coffee. ‘Oh, destroying evidence and generally pissing off the police.’
‘All very interesting,’ Tess said. ‘What about the TV interview?’
The spoiled look came back again. ‘You didn’t see it?’
I’d forgotten all about it, but Tess came to the rescue.
‘I taped it. I was waiting for you to come and watch it and tell me how it went and how much they edited.’
