Blood Sunset

26



I DROPPED SPARKS BACK AT the squat, we swapped mobile phone numbers and I said I’d be in touch. Then I parked in a clearway and Cassie and I walked the two blocks to Acland Street. The crowd seemed to move at an agonisingly slow pace and I ended up pushing my way through. As we passed a black BMW roadster a thought occurred to me.
‘What colour did Sparks say Vitazul’s Beamer was?’
‘Dark blue,’ Cassie said. ‘And Finetti confirmed that, right?’
I nodded, a sudden realisation dawning on me. Tammy York had been strangled by an overweight man in a navy blue BMW. She’d even said he’d spoken with a European accent. He kept patting my head and telling me I’d been a good girl but now I was bad.
‘Son of a bitch,’ I said. ‘He was trying to kill her too.’
‘What?’ said Cassie.
I told her about Tammy York and how her attacker might very well have been Vitazul.
‘Maybe she was in on the scam too. Like Dallas and Justin,’ she said. ‘All three of them are on that disk. That would explain why she never mentioned anything about it when you questioned her.’
I was thinking the same thing and was about to suggest we question her again when my mobile rang. The caller ID read private number.
‘McCauley.’
‘Rubes, is that you?’
‘Andy?’ I said, unsure because of all the noise of the crowd.
Covering my other ear, I heard my brother mention something about a gym membership, so I turned down an alley to hear him better.
‘Say again?’
‘I said, you wanted me to check the names on our client list at the gym, see if those kids you were looking for had membership, right?’
Cassie came around the corner, her face curious, and I mouthed the word ‘Anthony’.
‘No Derek Jardine on our current client list,’ Anthony said. ‘His membership expired last June. No continuance. As I said, not surprising. Not many stick with it.’
‘Never mind him. I think he’s in Queensland anyhow.’
‘This other bloke, Dallas Boyd, his membership’s still current, though we haven’t seen him for a while either. Maybe he’s in Queensland too. Wish I was. Maybe if I start using heroin every day the government’ll pay for me to go on a holiday. That how it works?’
‘Something like that. Listen, I’m on to something here. Gotta fly. Thanks, Andy.’
‘No worries. Thanks for going to see Mum this morning, by the way. I’ve just got back myself.’
I winced and turned away from Cassie. ‘Ah, how is she?’
‘Still knocked out on painkillers. Dad’s going to stay overnight and take her back to the nursing home tomorrow, if the fires don’t get too close.’
‘Anything I can do?’
‘Just speak to Chloe. I’ll deal with Mum and Dad for now.’
‘All right, mate. You take care.’
‘Thanks. Ciao.’
‘Everything okay?’ Cassie asked when I hung up.
‘Family politics,’ I said, brushing her off. ‘Let’s go do this.’

I filled her in on the YMCA dead end as we walked into Café Vit. Like everywhere else in St Kilda that day, it was crowded, hot and loud.
‘I don’t know a Karl Vitazul,’ a waiter named Nigel said in answer to my question. ‘Nobody by that name works here.’
‘Think!’ Cassie said. ‘He told us he was the owner.’
‘He’s overweight,’ I added. ‘Maybe five ten, thin hair, round face. Speaks with a European accent.’
The waiter frowned. ‘You must mean Gervas.’
‘Who’s Gervas?’
‘Gervas Kirzek. He’s the owner.’
I frowned, confused. Why had the owner given me a different name, one that matched the registration plate and home address of a ninety-three year old?
‘Where is he?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know.’
Cassie stepped closer, lowering her voice. ‘Don’t lie to us, Nigel. We’ve got a job to do, just like you. Just tell us where he is and we’ll be out of here.’ She nodded towards the seating area. ‘If not, we’ll make a real scene.’
Nigel ran a hand through oily hair. ‘Look, I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t been in since that dead kid was found out back. Freaked him out.’
‘Did you know Dallas Boyd?’ Cassie prodded.
‘Who?’
‘The kid your boss found outside.’
‘Just some junkie, wasn’t he? Shame they can’t all go that way, I reckon. You should see what some of them do around here. Just last week we had one guy –’
‘Your boss,’ I interrupted. ‘Where can we find him?’ ‘At home, I suppose. I hope he hasn’t done something stupid.’
‘Like what?’
‘Shit, I don’t know. As I said, he was pretty freaked out after finding that kid. And they say it’s victimless to use drugs. Tell that to Gervas. He had to wait outside with the body. He was a mess afterwards. People feel sorry for junkies, but I don’t. They come in here all the time, thieving and harassing everyone. Last week one of them even vomited in the –’
‘Save it,’ I hissed.
‘Kitchen,’ he finished.
‘Just tell us where he lives.’
‘All right! I’ll get you the address. I’m just saying that thing last week had him real wired, man. Maybe you could check on him, make sure he’s all right,’ he said, leading us past the kitchen to an office at the rear.
At the back door, I looked out at the loading bay where Dallas Boyd had died and thought about how far we’d come in just a few days. There were cops who said that all cases had a rush point: the moment you knew you were face to face with evil, when all your instincts and gut feelings were proven. With it came an immense rush of adrenaline that surpassed anything else on the planet. Before Nigel even wrote down the address, I knew it would be the same house we’d just been to in Elwood, and I felt that familiar sensation build in my stomach. I looked at Cassie and knew she felt it too. Rush point. We were closing in.