ED ROWE

COLDER THAN BLOOD

In memory of Bob Bilston My second best mate

COLDER THAN BLOOD Copyright 2007 by Shannon Edward Rowe First published in 2008 by Lulu.com All rights reserved. Apart from legitimate use permitted under Australian copyright law, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, image scanning, photography, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Cover images by Shannon Edward Rowe

Chapter One
wasnt expecting trouble that afternoon as I drove home from yet another failed job interview. My shirt collar was unbuttoned, my tie a scrunched ball in the glove box. I was in one of those black moods that only whisky can wash clean. I had just braked for a traffic light, my mind still tormenting itself with replays and should-have-said retorts, when a girl yanked open the back door and dived into my car, screaming, Go, go, go! My body reacted before my brain could object. I stomped on the pedal and ran the red, leaving a pack of horns barking at my tail. Id burned up half a block before I remembered how to think. The girl gripped my shoulder. Please dont stop, she said. She had long, frizzy blonde hair, and if she was in her twenties it was only by an inch. Her eyes sought out mine in the rear-view mirror. Her chin was trembling. I gave her a hard stare through my little piece of mirror and went for the brakes. No! She shook my shoulder. You have to help me! Is that right? I stopped the car completely and scowled at her. Please! We have to go now. Now! She cast an anxious glance through the rear window. I followed her gaze, but saw nothing dangerous out there. The girl wore a tight cream-coloured top and a skirt that showed more leg than it was paid to. A gold crucifix necklace dangled between her breasts. Her hand felt small and delicate on my arm. Whats the big emergency? I demanded. This isnt an ambulance. She leaned in close, her breath hot on my cheek. Hes trying to kill me! Emotions rippled across her face like the contortions of a drowning child. Whos trying to kill you? What does he want? Her deep blue eyes locked onto mine. Vengeance, she said. Tyres screeched on the road behind us. Fifty metres back, a brown Mitsubishi work-van swerved in front of another car, muscling through the traffic like a bully. The van looked broad and sturdy, with a leathery, sunbaked skin of dirt. It straightened out and accelerated COLDER THAN BLOOD 1 ED ROWE

towards us. Its him! the girl shouted. Her fist pounded my seat. Go, go, go! I floored it. The girl was flung back into her seat as the Commodore leapt forward. I glued my foot to the pedal and blurred past a line of cars. The van increased its speed, snorting furious blasts of exhaust as its driver gunned the engine. A ladder tied to the vans roof rack jutted out over the windshield like a jousting lance. The van began to close the distance between us, its heavy bull-bar grinning with wicked metal teeth as it drew closer. Chew on this, I thought, and whipped my car through a narrow gap. I shot ahead into a clear stretch of road and took off, leaving the van stuck behind traffic. The van swung from lane to lane, tailgating the cars in its way and trying to force an opening. Its horn brayed howls of frustration as I sped away. No worries, I told the girl. He wont give up, she said. Youll see. In the mirror, I saw the van veer out from behind a stubborn Volvo. Its left wheels ramped up onto the pavement and it surged ahead, straddling the gutter as it raced alongside the Volvo. Put your seatbelt on, I said. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. The van swung onto the road in front of the Volvo. Its tyres bounced off the kerb and the back of the van clipped the smaller vehicles fender. Headlight glass sprayed into the air as the Volvo limped out of the way. The van shrugged off the blow and homed relentlessly in on us again. Oh God. The girl had seen it too. Oh God, were going to die! She clutched her knees to her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gulps. Were not dead yet. The road ahead sloped up a steep hill. I shifted to third gear and hit it doing over a hundred. The Commodores engine revved as we rocketed up the hill, my foot jammed hard against the accelerator. But still the van kept pace, as unstoppable as a tank, its driver a dark, menacing silhouette behind the windshield. We soared over the crest of the hill and my guts suddenly clenched: a solid wall of cars blocked the road at the next set of traffic lights. COLDER THAN BLOOD 2 ED ROWE

Problem, I said. There were no side streets to pull into. The girls fingernails dug into my shoulder. Oh Jesus, do something! She still hadnt fastened her seatbelt. Hell catch us! As we plummeted towards the intersection, I spotted a corner service station coming up fast on the left. It was a chance, but if I mistimed it In the mirror, I saw the van clear the top of the hill. Its cruel bull-bar smile seemed to widen in triumph as it accelerated towards us. Hes coming! the girl cried. Hes going to ram us! Shut up and hold on to something! I braked hard to avoid a hatchback, then spun the wheel to the left and thumped into the service stations entryway. The undercarriage scraped harshly on concrete and the back tyres went into a skid. I fought to control the fishtailing car, the steering wheel jarring my fingers as we barely missed a petrol pump. A thud and a muffled squeal of pain came from the back seat, but I had no time to look. The car continued to slide. I grappled with the wheel as we skidded towards the stores plate-glass window. Inside at the counter, a clerk turned his head in alarm. Grunting with effort, I hauled the wheel across and skimmed so close to the glass that the automatic doors started to open. The car sledded past the store on two wheels before skidding out of the adjacent entryway and onto the other road. Horns blared as I cut across the path of oncoming traffic. I pumped the brakes to regain control and a strong, acrid smell of burnt rubber filled the car. I straightened out into the middle lane and stood on the pedal again. My heart was pounding hard enough to make a nervous doctor reach for sedatives. The girl scooted forward, her eyes wide and panicky. Did you lose him? In the mirror, I saw the brown van shoot out of the entryway a hundred metres behind us. Im working on it, I said. I made an abrupt left turn into a tree-lined residential street. The back of the car threatened to spin out again, but I kept it under control through sheer willpower. The girl grabbed my headrest to steady herself. With the rear view still empty, I pulled a quick right into the next street. Only it wasnt a street, I realised too late. It was a dead-end court. There was no time to back out. I braked hard and tucked the car into the nearest driveway, my teeth clacking as the tyres bumped the kerb. COLDER THAN BLOOD 3 ED ROWE

Just as we slid out of sight behind a hedge, I turned my head and saw the van go roaring past down the other street. The girl watched it go. A light mist of sweat gleamed on her forehead. She was shivering. Her top had come untucked from her skirt, revealing a milky strip of skin with a cute bellybutton sewn in the middle of it. I kept the engine idling while we watched the road in silence for a long minute. Then I let out the breath Id been rationing. Hes gone. Now, whats the story? I she started. Her eyes narrowed as if she sensed a trap. You Youre safe now, I said, but she was already scrabbling at the door handle. She swung the door open and bolted from the car. I cursed and shut off the engine. The girl had dashed back to the street and was running in the same direction the van had gone. Crazy. I put my head down and sprinted after her. I caught her easily and dragged her by the arm into somebodys front lawn. A wattle tree concealed us from the street. Not even a thankyou? She tried to pull away, making little animal sounds of fear. I didnt hurt her, but I didnt relax my grip either. I wanted answers. Suddenly she thrust herself into my arms with a racking sob. She screwed her face into my shoulder and I responded hesitantly, stroking her slender back as her hot tears soaked my business shirt. Her body felt warm and tender against mine, her golden hair like silk in my hand. Her skin radiated a subtle apricot perfume of youth. Everythingll be okay now, I muttered. I felt awkward standing there holding this strange girl while she bled out her tears. I couldnt think of any words of comfort; all the things I wanted to say had question marks on the end. We were in a lovingly tended flower garden. I recognised a camellia tree, some native ferns, and a row of agapanthus lilies. A terracotta birdbath stood empty, waiting for feathered customers. Climbing roses were twined through a wooden trellis attached to the side of the house, the pink buds looking like the scrunched little faces of cherubs. It was a nice place for hugging a girl. Finally she looked up, her sapphire eyes shining and wet. Whats your name? she asked. Tell me the name of the man who saved my COLDER THAN BLOOD 4 ED ROWE

life. Her heart-shaped face glowed with a shy but sensual innocence. Im Jack, I told her. Jack Marsh. I watched my name write itself in her eyes and sink deep into their ocean depths. My saviour Jack, she murmured dreamily. She reached up and traced a fingertip along my scar. The pale, prominent scar curved across my cheek from the corner of my right eye to the jawbone below my ear, more visible than usual since Id shaved off my regular three-day growth for the interview. I hoped she wouldnt ask. Id spent twelve years not talking about it and I wasnt going to start now. But she didnt say anything. She just pressed against me and sighed happily, a pretty stranger safe in the arms of her saviour knight. From across the street, a throaty argument between two dogs carried into our secluded garden pocket. The smell of cloying roses enveloped us. The street beyond our oasis was growing dark with afternoon shadows from the crisscrossed trees on either side. I looked at the girl in my arms, still smiling her childlike, dreamy smile, even though she had to be at least nineteen. I decided Id been patient long enough. I shook her roughly. Wake up, you! I want answers and I want them now. She gave me a confused, hurt look, as if Id trampled on a wish to stop it from coming true. Maybe she was a nut. Maybe I should have pulled over earlier and collected my answers from Mr. Brown Van. I shook her again. Please dont make me, she said. Hell kill me if I tell you anything. Giving me the timid little-girl eyes that were supposed to soften me up and make me cave in. Plenty of other guys might have fallen for it, but Id had enough of playing the stooge. Nobodys going to kill you while Im around. Ill protect you, but you need to tell me whats happening. You dont understand. He knows everything. Ive betrayed him and he wont stop until hes had vengeance. That word again. My jaw hardened as I imagined some Neanderthal brute terrorising this poor girl. Who is he? She shook her head. Hell find out that I told you and then hell kill you too. Im not easy to kill. Ill take my chances. Her eyes were distant islands in a sea of despair. He makes me do such terrible things, she whispered. Filthy things. Her body COLDER THAN BLOOD 5 ED ROWE

shuddered against me. Hell never let me go. Tell me, I said softly. Let me help you. I I cant. Youll think Im disgusting! No I wont. But I need to know everything. I smiled reassuringly at her. Go ahead, hit me with it. On the chin, and dont leave out any knuckles. She took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. Its like Ive been asleep all this time, trapped in a nightmare without even realising it. And and now he wont let me wake up. He wants to pull me back under the surface. Youre not making Ive betrayed him and now hes going to kill me! she cried out, her voice rising, liquid with terror. Hell use the knife The knife. Memory sent a stab of fear pulsing through my stomach. At the age of sixteen, Id had personal experience with the wrong end of a knife. Heres something else to remember me by, Jacky boy I closed my eyes. I resisted the urge to scratch my scar. I controlled my breathing and reflected deeply on the cowardice of man. All around us are hidden scenes of suffering. We never know which of the one in four children we meet has been sexually abused. We shake hands with wife-beaters, rapists, and murderers, and we dont recognise them because they look the same as us. We live out the petty routines of our safe little lives, ignoring the broken human machinery of victims and villains around us. We never ask. We dont want to know. And sometimes, in the black hours of the night, we realise that we dont even care. But then sometimes, I thought with resolve, we realise that we care very much. Well, you dont have to be afraid of him anymore, I said. I gave her my most confident smile. Whatever danger youre in, Ill help you get out of it. She searched my face with hopeful eyes. Do you mean that? Yes. She snuggled against me. My hero. I knew I could depend on you. I smiled wryly at the notion. Jack Marsh, hero for hire. Hell, if it earned me a regular paycheque, Id gladly slay dragons and rescue COLDER THAN BLOOD 6 ED ROWE

troubled maidens for a living. A motorbike revved on the street and we both tensed until it passed. It was time to leave. Once we were safe, Id be able to calm her down and question her properly. Lets go. Where? She squinted at me suspiciously. Some place where we can talk. Feel like a beer? I know a good pub. She studied my face for a long moment. Okay, Im going to trust you. The set of her shoulders softened. She raised her lips to my ear and said, Im Tess, by the way. Tess? Thats me. She rested her cheek against my chest and bumped against me in a slow, sensual waltz, humming to herself. She was starting to drift into fantasy land again. Come on, I said, turning her towards the street. Wed better move. No! Her head snapped up and she became rigid in my arms, all her fear returning in a rush. Its not safe, hell find us. Im scared, Jack! Relax, Tess, youre safe now. If that guy tries anything while Im around, hed better have hospital cover. You dont understand! she cried. He knows everything. If I so much as take a step out there, hell sense me! Her chin began to tremble again. I felt exasperated, but I knew that I had to handle her gently. Okay, I said, well do it like this. You wait here while I bring the car up. Youll be safe here. When I beep the horn, you run out quickly and jump in. As a plan, it was irrational as hell, but I was worried she might spook even worse if I tried to argue. Tesss lips quivered. Youre going to leave me here? Only for a moment. I enveloped both her tiny hands in my big ones. Okay? She nodded. She still looked frightened. Jack? What? Tess tilted her face up and kissed me. Her lips were soft, her breath hot and sugary. I kissed her back hungrily and felt an electric spark crackle to life between us. By the time we broke for air we were COLDER THAN BLOOD 7 ED ROWE

breathing hard, our faces flushed and vibrant. I looked at her with awakening interest. More than just an innocent girl, I realised; she was a woman. The curve of her lips, the blonde question marks of her eyebrows, even the light spray of freckles on her nose these little things seemed suddenly fresh and special, and needed to be explored. She gazed back at me, her eyes alive with the buzz of possibility too. I felt energised for the first time in months. We were standing near the rose trellis. Tess smiled mischievously. She reached out and shook the trellis and a shower of roses came loose and fell over our heads. Giggling, she snatched one out of the air and tucked it into the top buttonhole of my shirt. A medal for my hero, she said. I grinned. And I wasnt even wounded in battle. I kissed her once more and let go of her. I was grinning like a fool. I stepped out past the wattle tree, looked cautiously both ways, and started jogging back to the car. What was I getting myself into here? I didnt know the full story yet, or exactly how I felt, but I did know one thing: that whatever the guy in the van had done to Tess, Id make sure he never did it again. I had reached the head of the court, car keys in hand, when I heard tyres screech behind me. My stomach turned to stone. It was the brown van. Jack! Tess shouted from too far away. She must have panicked and emerged from the garden to wait for me, and the driver had doubled back and found her. The van angled across the street to cut off her escape. They were maybe three hundred metres away. I sprinted towards them, already knowing I was too late. A man leapt out of the van and grabbed Tess around the shoulders. I couldnt see him clearly; distance and shadows darkened everything. Tess struggled and he punched her in the face. She went limp in his arms and he yanked open the vans sliding door, shoved her inside, and slammed it shut. No! I yelled, still running at top speed. The man didnt even glance at me. He hurried to the front and got in behind the wheel. All I could make out was a flash of dark hair. He took off instantly, squealing the tyres and leaving black swatches of rubber on the street. I had maybe eighty metres to go. Almost close enough to read the COLDER THAN BLOOD 8 ED ROWE

licence plate I gave it everything I had: arms tucked in, lungs on fire, legs pumping like pistons. And then the van accelerated around a corner, tyres screaming, and was gone. I ran for my car, but I already knew it was hopeless. A cold worm of fear gnawed at me as I drove randomly through the streets trying to pick up the trail. But there was no Tess and no brown van. I had lost her. All my life Id dreamed of being a detective and now I tried to think like one. I found a public phone and looked up the number for VicRoads. I told the lady who answered that I was buying a secondhand van and wanted to confirm the owners identity. I gave her the plate number Id memorised. Id managed to glimpse it just in time. She told me that she wasnt allowed to give out names and addresses, but that the van had been reported stolen three weeks ago. She asked me who the current owner was and I hung up. So much for detective Jack. Back in the car, I found Tesss rose on my seat. It had fallen out of my buttonhole. I held it gently in my palm, a precious thing of creamy petals threaded with a pale network of veins, and then I crushed it until the thorns cut my fingers. Afterwards, I went to a bar where nobody knew me and got very drunk. Normally on a Friday night I would go to my regular pub, The Hairy Elephant, to meet Benny and a few other friends, and wed find out how pissed we could get and still shoot pool. But tonight I needed to be alone. Benny would have to make do without my match-winning break. Saturday morning, I woke with a hangover and the last screams from a nightmare echoing in my brain. I bought the newspaper: nothing about Tess. I didnt know whether that was good or bad. I scanned the employment section, circled a few ads, and wasted most of the morning writing application letters that probably wouldnt add up to a job. Nine months ago, Id lost a good position as an insurance claims examiner when some stupid manager had fired me for insubordination. Campaigning loudly on behalf of ripped-off claimants apparently went against the companys mission statement. Since then, Id been on the dole and looking for work, but there hadnt been much on sale. Yesterdays interview had been a disaster. A short, swarthy man with a thick goatee and a penetrating stare had interviewed me. Id COLDER THAN BLOOD 9 ED ROWE

stared him down in return, but Id overdone it and received a lecture about the right attitude. In business, there are the people who do the telling and the people who get told. Yesterday, I got told. I felt restless. I watered my alfalfa farm a multi-tiered plastic cube the size of a small television, which contained four trays of alfalfa seeds in various stages of growth. I raided the top layer and used half to make a ham and alfalfa sandwich for lunch. I scattered new seeds into the empty tray and shuffled the other trays up to make room for it at the bottom. The next batch would be ready tomorrow, and the newest tray would sprout in three or four days. I packed the rest of the days harvest into the old, slim tobacco tin that I used for holding my walking-around stash. I tried watching television, but there was nothing interesting, so I resumed reading the Lawrence Block mystery Id started on earlier that week. After a few pages though, my eyes started skipping and I gave it up. I did some karate exercises instead, practising kata sequences to try to burn off my tension, but after ten minutes of struggling to concentrate, I decided that I wasnt in the mood for anything at all. So in the end, I liberated the emergency bottle of whisky from my desk drawer, and tapped it every time I started worrying about Tess. There were a lot of emergencies. In time, I probably would have forgotten about Tess and the brown van. But the next day, on the front page of the Sunday newspaper, there she was staring out at me, my smiling blonde beauty. And above her photo, the headline: TEENAGER MURDERED.

COLDER THAN BLOOD

10

ED ROWE

Chapter Two
needed a hard shot of whisky just to make it past the headline. The article gave me the morbid statistics: Theresa Hinley was nineteen years old and two days dead. Tesss naked body had been found in a school playground Saturday evening by a couple of eight-year-olds playing hide and seek. Shed been stuffed into the hollow of a large concrete pipe put there for children to play in. The kid whod found her hadnt stayed hidden for long. According to the newspaper report, there had been mutilation. That meant a sharp knife and a lot of pain. I had a mental image of her body and it wasnt all in one piece. The school would have a hard time scrubbing the blood out of the concrete. My stomach boiled nastily. My scar itched. I wanted a drink. Instead, I focused on the rest of the article. Marcus Hinley, a baker, described his daughter as a sweet, loving saint of a girl, and wanted five minutes alone with the bastard who did this. The usual clichs of grief. His wife had been hospitalised for shock. Tess had been studying marketing at Swinburne Universitys Hawthorn campus. Shed been active in amateur theatre and was a devout Christian. Just your average girl-next-door without an enemy to her name. The police were appealing for information, which meant that Mr. Brown Van was still on the loose and the cops didnt know squat. I spent the afternoon asking myself what I could have done differently and looking for answers in the whisky bottle. The answers I dredged up all started with the phrase, If only The evening TV news report didnt add anything, but they used a different photo. Tess looked a year younger in the picture, and much more carefree and innocent than the terrified girl Id held so briefly in my arms. It made me think about Melanie, and I wondered not for the first time what kind of face she wore these days. My sister Melanie had run away from home eighteen years ago, leaving a cryptic note on her bed and a hole in my life. Shed be thirtyfour now. I could just picture her squashy nose and brown hair, but that was it; my mental snapshot of her was blurry and fading more each year. The hole inside me, though, had never healed. COLDER THAN BLOOD 11 ED ROWE

I wondered if Melanie, wherever she was, remembered her little brother Jack. I wondered if she was even still alive. Then I took a long slug of whisky and stopped wondering for a while. Later, I shrugged on some clean clothes and prepared to go out. My eyes looked bloodshot. My lower lip was ragged from nervous chewing. All that was left of the Scotch was the empty bottle. But it was eight p.m. and I was getting hungry and sober. There was also something I needed to do. I locked up the apartment and drove aimlessly until I found a restaurant that looked crowded enough to suggest that they served edible food. I made it as far as the door, took one look at the damned place, and didnt go in. Instead I entered the public phone booth across the street and picked up the receiver. I dialled triple-zero and told the operator that I had information about the murder of Tess Hinley. I dont like the police. They dont like me either, but since theyre in more of a position to do something about it, I try to keep out of their way. I spent my teenage years getting in their way. Id been one of those juvenile punks whom cops automatically assume are up to no good and in my case, they were usually right. I was being transferred to the officer in charge. I watched the people on the street. An old man in a tracksuit and moccasins carried his brown paper bag from a nearby bottle shop to a rundown Ford that took him three tries to start. Two middle-aged couples sitting at an outdoor restaurant table were laughing too loudly and gesturing too enthusiastically, trying to outdo each other with desperate youth. The way I figure it, theres three types of crime. Theres the pissy stuff that doesnt hurt anyone, such as letting your dog crap on the sidewalk or driving too fast when the roads empty. Then there are the crimes we tolerate as the dirty price of living in this society. Vandals, pickpockets and burglars dont understand the pain their actions cause, until they grow up and themselves become victims of the same outrages. It was the third type of crime that made me sick with anger, which was why I had a cops grunt in my ear right now, instead of a meal in my stomach. Detective Constable Gars. He had a rough, bourbon-for-breakfast voice. You got something for me on the Hinley case, buddy? COLDER THAN BLOOD 12 ED ROWE

I sure do. Good. I heard computer keys clicking. Name? Lets skip that part. He paused, then said, Okay buddy, whatever you say. What you got for me? I have a lead thatll help you find the killer. Spill it. This guy was Tact Central. I took a breath. I was driving home Friday afternoon Where from? Gars butted in. The city. What were you doing in the city? What difference does that make? Just answer the question. I had a job interview, I said. Anyway, Id just come off the Eastern Freeway and was driving down Where was the interview? My hand tightened on the receiver. In. The. City. Gars grunted. Dont get smart with me, buddy. How do I know youre not handing me a bag of bullshit if you wont let me verify a few basic details, you follow? What can it hurt to tell me where you started out from? It could hurt plenty if he found my name in Mr. Right Attitudes appointment book. Wouldnt you rather hear about the murder? I asked. Well get to that, he said. Anyway, what did you say your name was again? I didnt. He grunted. Yeah thats right. I forgot. So you were driving home from this secret bloody interview in the city. What next? I was on Springvale Road, going through Nunawading. I stopped for a red light at the Maroondah Highway intersection. You taking notes? Yeah, its being recorded. Keep going. It was about three oclock. I was sitting at the lights when all of a sudden Tess Hinley jumped into the back of my car. You knew her? No, she was a complete stranger. Then howd you know who she was, buddy? COLDER THAN BLOOD 13 ED ROWE

I didnt, not until I saw her face in todays newspaper. Hold on a second, Gars said. I heard papers rustling. Says here her names Theresa. Whatd you call her? Tess. Her old man told me only family and friends called her Tess. You sure you didnt know her? She introduced herself as Tess. I guess she considered me a friend. Friends, huh? he said scornfully. Good friends? I knew he was just trying to taunt me into tripping over my tongue, so I locked it away and waited. You still there, buddy? he said after a few moments. I didnt say anything. Whats the matter? Got a cork in your mouth? Still nothing. Gars let out an irritated sigh. Okay, so there you are, sitting pretty at the lights, when out of the blue this strange broad suddenly jumps into your car and introduces herself as Tess Hinley. Am I getting this right? Close enough. She asked me for help. Why? Was she hitchhiking? She was Say, you dont drive a taxi do you, buddy? Nice try, but no, I said. Anyway So what sort of car do you drive then? My jaw clenched. A unicycle. It took him a moment to figure it out. Hey look buddy, dont get me wrong, he said, trying to pull the nails out of his voice and not quite succeeding. Im just trying to get at the facts here. Is that what you call it? Im asking you to cooperate, thats all. Im a trained detective. I collect the clues and figure out the patterns. What you might think is trivial could be the detail that breaks the case for me, you follow? Uh huh. See, right now I dont know what happened. You do. So you and me, we got to get one of them clear communication things happening, you follow? I ask the questions and you answer them clearly and completely and without the lip, see, and maybe it helps me solve the case. That sound good to you, buddy? COLDER THAN BLOOD 14 ED ROWE

Whatever you say, buddy. I heard his breath hissing through his teeth. Perhaps he was counting to ten. Okay, Gars said. Shes in the back of your car. What next? I stared out at the world beyond the phone booth. Night was descending quickly, like the shutter of a peepshow. Rain began pattering on the street. A waiter helped the two couples outside the restaurant move their meals indoors, the ladies squealing and shielding their hair, the men acting unhurried and amused. I remembered Tess shaking the rose trellis, the flowers showering around us as she clung to me and laughed. There would be no more roses for Tess now. No more fun. Nothing but cold, unyielding eternity. A man was chasing her, I told Gars. She wouldnt say who he was, but he was driving a brown van. I think he might have been keeping her prisoner in the van. My guess is that she broke free at the lights and ran to the first car in the queue. Mine. Go on. She was terrified and asked me for help. I took off and the van chased us. What did the van look like? A brown Mitsubishi work-van. An Express, I think, maybe ten years old. I gave him the licence plate number and described the van. I heard Gars typing the details into a computer. I suspect it was stolen, I added. Yeah, says here it was nicked a few weeks ago. Tradesman lost it outside a hardware store, left the motor running while he pissed around inside. Where it was stolen from? I asked casually. Gars saw through the question. Thats none of your damned business, buddy. You just leave the detective work to me and finish telling your side of the story. Fine, I said. You want it short and sweet, then here it is. I gave the van the slip by driving down side streets. Afterwards, Tess panicked and took off on foot. The guy in the van came back and caught her. He looked tough and had dark hair. Thats it, everything that happened. Now start detecting. Garss voice was all cop. Im not done with you, buddy. Youd better haul your arse down here right now for a full interrogation. COLDER THAN BLOOD 15 ED ROWE

I dont think so. Chalk this up as an anonymous tip. Look, buddy, you want me to catch this guy, right? You want to help, you got to do the right thing, you follow? If youre innocent, you got nothing to worry about. He let a sly note crawl into his voice. Plus theres a five grand reward for information leading to an arrest. You help me out, it could be all yours, you follow? I dont want it. Donate it to an orphanage. Whatever tissue-thin control he had over his temper crumpled. Buddy, youre in so much shit you need a goddamned snorkel! Your only chance is to drag your arse over here right now and come clean, you follow? Or Ill Gars, Ive given you the best bloody lead youre going to get. Now get off your arse and run it down. You follow? You little bastard! Whats your name? Call me Mr. Shut-Up-And-Listen, I said. If you want to find the guy who killed Tess Hinley, find that brown van. Ive done my bit to help. Now Im going to go home, get drunk, and try to forget the sound of your stupid voice! You I hung up and trudged through the rain to my car. I wasnt hungry anymore; I was angry. Detective Gars wasnt going to find the killer in the brown van. Hed be too busy practising threats in the mirror and stuffing his belly with donuts. No, I decided, Ill just have to do it myself. To Gars, Tess was just another tedious form to fill out, bury in a filing cabinet, and forget about. He didnt give a damn that a young life had been snuffed out, that a bright human candle burning with hopes and dreams and desires was now extinguished. Well, I gave a damn. And I would not rest until Id found Tesss killer. I drove roughly, punishing the Commodore for its part in the whole mess. The storm opened up, rain pouring out of the slashed grey bellies of the clouds and pelting the car with hard, fat pellets of water. I thought about Tesss new home deep under the ground, and the meagre police effort that was keeping justice there too. Tess had known her killer. He had terrified and controlled her, somehow making her do filthy things against her will. Had she tried to leave an abusive relationship? Was the killer a psychotic COLDER THAN BLOOD 16 ED ROWE

ex-boyfriend whod felt betrayed simply because shed had the nerve to leave him? As a working theory it fit, at least for now. But then why had he been chasing her in a stolen van? I made it back to my apartment and squeezed the car into the slot next to my neighbours oversized Cadillac. The courtyard was deserted except for a kids tricycle that had blown over into the mud, its lone front wheel spinning in the wind. The other tenants had sealed themselves inside their apartments, cowering from the storm like frightened rabbits. I got out of the car and planted my foot right into a pothole full of rain. I ran to my door, wet sock squelching, and made it inside. Home was a one-bedroom shoebox: no frills, but the rent was cheap. The paint was scuffed and greasy, the carpet still haunted by the ghosts of the last occupants cigars, but it was mine. A man doesnt need a fancy place anyway; at least not until he has a womans voice lodged in his ear and her fingers in his wallet. My ex-girlfriend Julie once told me my apartment was a pigsty, but that wasnt true. Theres a difference between dirty and untidy, and anyone who thinks otherwise is only letting himself in for more cleaning than is necessary. I made a beeline to the fridge, popped a beer, and emptied it in a few swallows. It wasnt whisky, but it trimmed the rough edges off my temper. I microwaved some leftover takeaway curry and wolfed that down. Then I filled a steaming hot bath and let it unravel my knotted muscles. Years ago, shortly after my sister had disappeared, Id been full of the nave enthusiasm of a ten-year-old boy whod read too many pulp crime stories. When I grew up, I was going to be Jack Marsh, hardboiled P.I., stalking the mean streets of Melbourne in a trench coat and battered fedora, a smoke hovering at my lips Bogart-style. Back then, Id even started my own detective agency. Id pinned hand-drawn advertisements to trees around the neighbourhood and knocked on doors to pester family and friends for cases. My first case had been to find my neighbour Mrs. Charless missing dog, which had wandered off in search of new territory to mark. Id solved the case later that day when the dog sauntered across our lawn and took a dump. Mrs. Charles had given me twenty cents and an indulgent smile. After that victory, my next challenge had been to locate a missing spanner in Dads garage. After three hours of searching, Id COLDER THAN BLOOD 17 ED ROWE

concluded that being a detective wasnt as much fun as Id thought, and there had ended the great childhood career of Jack Marsh, Private Eye. Over time, my innocence drained away, but the dream never entirely faded. I stopped bothering neighbours and shopkeepers with childishly clever questions about my sister. I gave up hunting for clues in the backyard. I came to accept that Melanie was gone and wasnt coming back. And then everything had gotten worse, so much worse, and any innocence Id had left had been shattered forever I exploded out of the bath now, hurried to the fridge, and slammed down another beer. I stood there dripping water onto the kitchen floor until the shakes subsided. Then I towelled off and put on dry clothes. In the bedroom mirror, the scar on my cheek glowed like an ember from the heat of the bath. Rain spat and hissed on the walkway outside, the wind cheering it on. I could hear my neighbours through the thin walls: an inane radio talk show; the man in number fifteen yelling at his Filipino wife again; cranky old Mrs. Vanguard cooing to her cats. I stared out the window. All I could see was rain. All I had ever seen was rain. I wanted to get drunk, but Id run out of whisky. I grabbed another beer from the fridge, sat at my desk, and scowled at the pile of detective novels stacked against the living room wall. My collection numbered almost two hundred books, most of them second-hand, each a gritty tale of tough guys and deadly dames. More nave fantasies. Right now, with Tesss murder eating at me, I felt like torching the lot. Who the hell was I to think I could be a real-life detective? I stared at the can of beer. Drink me, it whispered. Drink me and forget this craziness. The storm outside grew louder, applauding my weakness. I slammed the can onto the desk. Foamy beer fizzed out over my hand. I was not going to give up before Id even started, not this time. Id wasted enough of my life watching the rain and feeling sorry for myself. I leaned back in the swivel chair and picked up the phone. I put my feet on the desk because I owned it. An idea had flickered to life in my brain. Benny? You awake? Jack, mate! Hows it hanging? His voice was a well-rounded thump in my ear. To the left. COLDER THAN BLOOD 18 ED ROWE

Is that as far as you can get it up? He snorted with amusement. So anyway, tell me, did you end up lighting that matchsticks fire? He meant the intense redhead Id taken home from the bar a week ago. Mandy something, thin as a fuse and with eyes that smouldered. Shed been so energetic in bed that Id never forget her, but so dull afterwards that Id never called her. A smart magician, I said, never reveals his tricks. Ha! Ill bet she was waving your wand all night long... I came perilously close to laughing. Is that the best you can come up with? Aha! So thats what she said when you dropped your pants. I couldnt keep from cracking up that time. Hed outdone me yet again. Benny Thompson has been my best friend ever since the day in high school when Id called him a dirty name and hed fired back and impressed me with an even dirtier one. So, whats up? Benny asked when wed finished laughing. I need your help to do a computer search. Can I come over? When? Right now. At this time of night? You gotta be jerking my gherkin. It was nine-thirty. Benny thinks being difficult is hilarious. Contrary to popular stereotype, programmers do have personal lives, you know I lowered my voice. Might be worth a bottle of Wild Turkey to you Sold! although youll have to wait until my next dole cheque comes in. Benny exaggerated a groan. You are such a bludger, Jack. Ah well, at least Ill be indirectly getting some of my tax dollars back. Thanks mate, youre a champ. I was grinning. He probably was too. See you in ten minutes, I said, and hung up before he could add anything crude. All I needed was a toehold into the mystery. I needed to start gathering information, to try to learn more about Tesss life and the people in it. At first Id had no idea where to start looking, or even how, and then Id thought of Benny and his computer. Information technology. It was a long shot, but there was one investigative resource that I hoped would give me the lead I needed: The Internet. COLDER THAN BLOOD 19 ED ROWE

Chapter Three
enny Thompsons ugly three-bedroom house was just one of the many jigsaw pieces that slotted together to make up the ugly housing estate in which he lived. The area had once been a huge splotch of wasteland on the outskirts of Croydon, until the property developers came and spewed eighty mass-production brick clones onto it. Neighbouring houses were crammed so close together here that privacy had become just another word in the dictionary. Every time I visited, I could sense the desperation seeping through the cheap walls. The rain had slowed to a lazy crawl. Four teenage boys sat in silence on a darkened front porch across the street, the occasional red glow of their cigarettes revealing faces that looked like blood smears on the black curtain of night. I nodded a greeting to them and got nothing but blank stares in return. The stares prickled the back of my neck all the way up Bennys driveway. The pink plaster flamingo Bennys ex-girlfriend had given him still lorded it over his flowerbed. It looked pretty miserable squatting there amongst the dead and the dying. Maybe one night the teenagers would end its suffering with a well-tossed brick. I thumbed the doorbell and an awful rendition of Greensleeves chimed inside the house. Id known Benny for fifteen years, and not once in all that time had he shown any sign of developing style. Benny opened the door and scowled at me. You know, Jack, youve got some nerve bailing me up at ten o-goddamned-clock on a Sunday night with your crazy demands. Youre just lucky I didnt have a hot date. He wore a grey tracksuit with sauce stains on it. A cigarette was clamped between his chubby lips. Well youre certainly dressed for one, I said. Wise-arse. Come on then, get inside before someone sees you and calls the freak-catchers. I followed him into the house and the smell hit me. Stale, languid air, flavoured with a mix of tobacco smoke, body odour, and alcohol fumes. I snorted. Yeah, yeah, I know, Benny said, rolling his eyes. What it is with you and fresh air anyway? Plenty of oxygen in the place. COLDER THAN BLOOD 20 ED ROWE

Whatever you say, Stinkmeister, but it sure smells like an anus has been hard at work churning out farts in here. He made a contemptuous sound as he shut the door. I noticed him turn the lock and test it twice. With those dead-eyed teenagers out there, I didnt blame him. You want a coldie? he asked. Thanks. In the kitchen he fished a can of Vic Bitter out of the fridge and tossed it to me. He opened a light beer for himself. Light? I winced at the can with distaste. Some of us have to work tomorrow. Not this merry dole bludger. Cheers mate. I took a long swallow of icy beer. I hope you realise, I added cheekily, that its your taxes paying for this grand lifestyle of boozing, womanising, and daytime TV that I enjoy. Benny shook his head with mock disgust. Youre a leech, Jack, sponging off us hard-working blokes. A wallet-sucking vampire. Ill drink to that. One day the politicians are going to smarten up and ship all you bludgers off to Tasmania. Itll be the new convict colony for lazy pricks. There was only one comeback for that: I gave him the finger. He stuck out his tongue and we both broke out laughing. It was amazing that our friendship had lasted so long. Benny was a successful computer nerd earning two hundred grand a year. I was an unemployed bum with a bank account like a bucket with a hole in it. But we both shared the same cynical view that the world was heading for hell, and I liked that about him, even if he did have the latest computer and mobile phone and was one of those leading the rush. He hitched his tracksuit pants up over his fat butt and we went into the computer area. The room was full of boxes stuffed with electronic parts, dog-eared technical manuals, and half a dozen computers with their cases off and strange skeletal insides showing. Benny dropped into the swivel chair in front of his primary computer. He backhanded a pile of magazines from a second chair and dragged it through the debris for me to sit beside him. To call the place a mess would have been a compliment. Okay, so what are we looking for? he asked, cigarette bobbing at COLDER THAN BLOOD 21 ED ROWE

his lips. I showed him the newspaper clippings that Id brought with me. This girl was killed yesterday. I want to find out everything I can about her. I drank some beer while he read the article. Shes a honey, he said finally. How did you know her? I took a deep breath, and then fed him the whole enchilada. I didnt leave out anything; fifteen years of friendship is a solid rsum for trust. Thats one hell of a ride, Jack, he said when I was finished. Youve been busier than a one-eyed cat watching two rat holes. Lifes full of excitement when youre on the dole. So why are you His eyes widened. Oh no! he said. No, no, no. Tell me youre not working yourself up with those private eye fantasies again. Somebodys got to Jack, a murder case is serious shit. If you start treading on the cops toes where youre not wanted, theyll tread back. Hard. I owe it to her, Benny. Are you listening to me? You are not a private detective. Youre just an average Joe and this obsession of yours is only going to land you in big trouble. Forget those mean streets mystery books youre always reading, real life doesnt I said, I owe it to Tess, I told him quietly. Benny stared at me for a long moment, and I stared back at him, and in that odd way in which good friends can communicate without words, he understood. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. He turned to the computer and connected to the Internet. I had a rough understanding of how the Internet worked. Benny had explained it to me once. Millions of computers from all over the world were linked up like a gigantic spider web. If you knew which strand of the web to follow, you could find just about anything stored at the other end. You could catch up on current news headlines, or drool over the schematics of expensive cars, or study research papers on the mating patterns of gnats. You could mail-order illegally exported Viagra. And if you were really sick in the head, you could swap pictures of kiddies with Russian paedophiles, or learn how to make home-brew napalm, or even download videos of real people dying in horrible ways. A real boon to society, the Internet. Alright, check this out, Benny said. He pointed to the image on COLDER THAN BLOOD 22 ED ROWE

the monitor. This is Google. Its a search engine that indexes nearly every web page on the Internet. We search the index for whatever combination of words we want and itll point us to the closest matching results. Its really cool. Will it help us find out about Tess? Maybe. If theres anything to find. He ground out his spent cigarette in an ashtray and lit another one. I wrinkled my nose at the tobacco cloud hovering in front of the computer screen. I said, You know, those thingsll Kill me? He grinned, exposing nicotine-stained teeth. So what? Everyone bites the dust some day. I might as well get a head start on going out in style. He drained the last of his beer, tossed the can onto the floor, and belched. Benny, I said, you have the manners of a shaved baboon. And you, Jack, he said with a crooked smile, have the looks. His fingers were poised over the keyboard, cigarette idling between his lips. Anyway, what was that chicks name again? Tess Hinley. Bennys fingers blurred and Tesss name appeared in a little box on the screen. He clicked an onscreen button labelled Google Search and the mouse cursor turned into an hourglass. A few seconds later, the text on the screen changed: Your search Tess Hinley did not match any documents. No pages were found containing Tess Hinley. No sale, Benny told me. Try it with her full first name, Theresa. He made the alteration and ran the search again. Nothing. My shoulders sank. Well, it was a long shot. Patience, fool! Were not beaten yet. He deleted the word Theresa and submitted the search again. Searched the web for Hinley Results 1-100 of about 2,080.

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A number of short summary paragraphs filled the screen, each containing the word Hinley, which had been highlighted for emphasis. Benny scrolled quickly through the list, explaining that these summaries were a sort of shorthand blurb describing the contents of each link. At the bottom of the list was a button that would bring up the next hundred results. Dont tell me we have to wade through two thousand of these, I said. No, just the ones that might be relevant. Benny clicked on one promising sounding link entitled Hinleys Home. It turned out to be a promotional page for an American cartoonist named Brad Hinley, who seemed to be trying to scrounge up publisher interest in his portfolio. There were illustrations of cartoon animals in human clothes doing unfunny things while mouthing equally unfunny captions. The artists photo looked more comical than his drawings. Benny made a contemptuous face at the screen. Ninety-five percent of the Net is crap, he explained. You have to sift through a mountain of rubbish in order to find anything worthy. The Nets mostly just a big dumping ground for porn, spam advertising, and personal look at me, Im alive! pages like this fools. He zapped Brad Hinley back to obscurity with one click of the mouse. Damn, this is going to take hours, I said. I drained the last of my beer and tossed the can onto the floor to join the other empties. Benny scowled at me as if I had committed a blasphemy. Let me try something else, he said, but I was only half listening. I stared at the newspaper photo of Tess while he clicked and typed. She smiled back, cheerful and vibrant, frozen in a moment of past innocence. There was no hint of the pain and terror that was to come, no shadow of the rictus beneath her carefree smile. But I saw them there anyway. Benny said, Check this out! There was new text on the screen: Searched the web for +Tess +Hinley site:au Results 1-7 of 7. Benny went through each of the links, calling up the corresponding web pages and scanning them rapidly. Most were red herrings. On the sixth try, I saw: COLDER THAN BLOOD 24 ED ROWE

CRYSTALS WEB PAGE!!! A grainy photo of Crystals face appeared under the heading. She was an attractive brunette with an impish smile. Thats not Tess, I said. Yeah, but shes hot though, Benny said. Id screw that for a dollar! It was a typical Benny vulgarity. He said it every time he saw a pretty girl, which probably went some way towards explaining why he was still single. A year ago, Benny had dated a crazy Chinese girl named Li, whom hed met over the Internet. She had stretched him around her little finger like a mood ring, driving him nuts with a personality that had schizophrenically alternated between control freak and sex kitten. When Benny had finally grown a backbone and called it quits, Li, of the pink flamingo fame, had sent two angry Chinese brothers around to teach Benny a detailed lesson about respect. Even now, he still doublechecked his locks. Some men, I said, win the girls over with charm. Yeah, but in the eternal wager between charm and the almighty dollar, Ill be backing Bill Gates. He fished another cigarette out of the pack and lit it off the dying gasp of his previous one. Anyhow, young Crystal here can do a Claire Swire on me any time she likes I just stared at him. Never mind, he said. Nerd joke. On the screen, Crystals web page was loaded with plenty of trivia about Crystal herself, but I couldnt see Tess mentioned anywhere. Crystal claimed to be a marketing student, a wild party girl, and a bornagain Christian, all rolled into one nineteen-year-old bundle of sweetness. She lived in Mount Waverly with her parents, and couldnt wait to get her own place once she graduated. Her favourite band was Destinys Child and she had a puppy named Vegemite. If anyone was curious, shed written, they should send her an email to find out how the dog got its name. Her email address was listed as cmainwaring@swin.edu.au. Whats that gibberish mean? I asked Benny. It means her surname is Mainwaring, he said. Looks like the Swinburne admins use a typical first initial/surname format. COLDER THAN BLOOD 25 ED ROWE

Swinburne? I was starting to feel stupid. Swinburne University. See the domain name? I shook my head. Domains are like delivery addresses for emails, Benny explained. Similar to how the post office uses street names and postcodes to deliver regular snail mail to peoples homes. He jabbed a chewed fingernail at the screen. This au here means that the mail server is located somewhere in Australia. Then the edu shows that it belongs to an educational institution. That narrows it down already, see? I nodded. The nodding made me feel a little smarter. So the swin narrows it down even further to Swinburne University, right? I said. You got it, peanut brain. He waved his cigarette at the screen. Of course, not all domains break down geographically. Sometimes you have to do a trace route to check the path the I tuned out the nerd-speak and tried to think. Crystal Mainwaring was studying marketing at Swinburne the same course Tess had been enrolled in, I remembered, and presumably at the same Hawthorn campus. It looked like a lead. Hey, Jack, Benny was saying. He was drooling over Crystals photo again. Do you think we should send her an email? Ive got the perfect pickup line. He jiggled his eyebrows. Oh Vegemite, spread me, spread me! I groaned. Men with charm dont need pickup lines. Thats because they cant afford any. Benny, youre nothing but a shaved baboon. Maybe, but Im a shaved, wealthy baboon. Well you certainly live in a filthy apes cage, thats for sure. We grinned at each other like a couple of idiots competing for a stupidity award. On his salary, Benny could have easily moved out of this rat hole and into a luxury apartment in any of the toff parts of town. But show and tell material flourishes werent Bennys priority. Instead, hed deliberately bought the most basic place he could find so that he could plunge the bulk of his income into the stock market. He called it his retiring at forty fund. Id never gotten him drunk enough to peg a dollar figure on the boast, but I had a hunch it was several rungs higher than a million already. He gave me one last mocking sneer, then turned back to the computer and clicked and scrolled until he found the connection: COLDER THAN BLOOD 26 ED ROWE

CRYSTALS MATES!!! Make sure you email all my friends too, but dont forget to tell them I sent you! My very manly and cute boyfriend Duong on dnguyen@swin.edu.au (Love you Duong!) Katie, wildest of the party animals on katiekins812@hotmail.com (You rock, girl!) My very best friend Tess on thinley@swin.edu.au (Thanks for everything, Tess!)

There she is! The thrill of discovery tingled through my palms. Benny, youre a legend. Now, can you bring up Tesss home address as well? Benny stared at me. You mean all this time you just wanted her address? Havent you heard of the phone book? He shoved a pile of computer junk off his desk and unearthed both volumes of the White Pages. I felt my face going red. Theres probably a dozen Hinleys in there. He waved the newspaper clippings at me. Yeah, but how many of them have an M for the first initial? Think about it, doofus I glared at him and blackened my finger through the ink of the phone book until I found the entry for Tesss father. Marcus Hinley and whatever was left of his family lived in Templestowe, a leafy suburb northeast of the city. I circled the address with a pen and ripped out the page just to spite Benny. I also put a mark against the only Mainwaring entry for Mount Waverly, and tore out that page as well. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Damn it, I thought, a real detective would have figured that out by himself. I felt lousy and worthless, a stupid man in a big body. It was the same feeling I always got after a job interview went sour. Alright, genius, I snapped. So why dont you get that computer to tell us who killed Tess, then? And offer me another beer while youre COLDER THAN BLOOD 27 ED ROWE

at it, for Christs sake! He gave me a hurt look. Have another beer, Jack, he said in a monotone, and turned his back on me to resume tapping away at the keyboard. I went to the fridge and opened a new can. It tasted bitter. I leaned against the fridge and swallowed it anyway, waiting for the anger to drain out of me. An invisible line runs through every friendship, a narrow thread that separates love from malice. The closer you get to the line, the tighter the bond and the greater the risk of stumbling into that territory where a joking insult suddenly becomes an insulting joke. Playful mockery can be good for scratching our sore spots and making life seem momentarily less serious. Theres nothing toxic in it, not really. But it can take a friendship awfully close to the line at times. Last beer if youre driving, he said when I came back. He gave me a tentative smirk. Dont want you stinking up my couch all night. Thats rich, coming from the Stinkmeister himself. Dont know what youre talking about. He made a show of sniffing his armpits. Smells like fresh bread to he said and burst into a coughing spasm. Jeez! he spluttered. Now I understand why the redhead picked you instead of me! I grinned and we were friends again. Benny was a good mate. Check this out, he said as I sat down again. He pointed at the computer screen, which now displayed the heading: CRYSTALS PHOTOS!!! Under the title, several photos the size of postage stamps were arranged in a grid. There were people in the photos, but the images were too small and blurry for me to make out their faces. These are called thumbnails, Benny said. Theyre low-bandwidth cutdown versions of the full pictures, so people can look before they click. Spare me the nerd talk and just show me. He clicked on the first miniature and the screen filled with an expanded, better quality version of the thumbnail. I saw Crystal holding hands with a grumpy looking Asian guy, no doubt her manly and cute boyfriend Duong Nguyen. His long hair had been slicked back into a COLDER THAN BLOOD 28 ED ROWE

ponytail; it looked like an oily black whip. Found the pics in a subdirectory off the main page, Benny said. Benny, Im impressed, I said. If I didnt know you as well as I do, Id almost think you were smart. He managed to bury his reaction under a quickly contrived sneer. If my nose didnt work as well as it does, Id almost think youd had your annual bath. He clicked an onscreen button labelled Back and the thumbnail grid appeared again. Lets check out the rest of the pics. One of the tiny photos looked worth investigating. I pointed at the thumbnail photo and said, Try that one. The image of a young woman appeared on the screen. She was laughing for the camera, her blonde hair frozen in a timeless halo around her heart-shaped face. When the photo had been taken, she had been carefree, vibrant, and very much alive. Mmm, Id shag her for a Benny started, and then stopped abruptly when he saw my frozen expression. I just stared at the screen. I could hear every heartbeat pounding through my veins. The golden image of Tesss face beamed out at me, an irreplaceable angel reduced to pixels on a computer monitor. She was dead now, but Id found her again anyway.

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Chapter Four
he next morning I drove out to Swinburne and crammed my car into a space in the student car park. I wore my scuffed black leather jacket, jeans, and a three-day growth. I was trying to pass as a mature-age university student, but it wasnt much of a disguise I still looked like an unemployed bum. Students wandered around with schoolbags slung over their shoulders and textbooks in their hands. It was almost lunchtime and many of them were packing their gobs full of greasy chips and soft drink. Others filled their mouths with cigarettes, anxiously chewed fingernails, or someone elses tongue. A good slice of the crowd was made up of overseas students another stumble in the great march of education: precious university places reserved for rich, unsubsidised foreigners while Aussie kids miss out and instead learn how to say, Do you want fries with that? with a repetitive smile. I tracked down the administration building and told the matronly woman at the desk that I had to find Crystal Mainwaring immediately due to a family emergency. The lie earned me a look at Crystals study schedule. According to her timetable, she was currently attending an economics lecture. The receptionist gave me directions and I thanked her and left. It was a long shot that Crystal would actually be present today, considering that her best friend had just been murdered, but she was the only lead I had and I didnt have anything better to do anyway. The Business and Arts building was bland and boxy-looking, a cardboard container for dispensing fast-food education. A constant stream of students trickled through the glass revolving doors, their heads empty when they went in, and brimming with politically correct opinions when they came out. I climbed a couple of stopped escalators and found the lecture theatre at the end of a long hall. With my hands cupped to my eyes, I squinted through the window set into the door. I counted about sixty bored faces illuminated in the backwash of light from a slide projector. At the front, a balding lecturer buzzed on about economics like a tired honeybee. Benny had given me printouts of the web page photos of Crystal, Duong, and Tess. I was looking for either of the living ones. I spotted Crystal sitting near the back of the room. Her eyes were tinged red and COLDER THAN BLOOD 30 ED ROWE

she didnt seem to be paying much attention to the lecture. Her hair had been permed since the web page photo; it floated around her head now like a chestnut waterfall. She looked so fragile and sad that I felt an urge to hold her in my arms and console her. One barrier to that idea was the Vietnamese guy slouching beside her. Duong Nguyen sat with his muscular arms folded across his chest and a scowl pasted onto his face. His hair was pinched back into a long black ponytail. He looked like one of those nightclub bouncers who get their kicks from baiting drunks into a fight. I couldnt just stand there gawking through the window, so I went outside and found a seat in the main courtyard from where I could watch the glass doors. It was a hot afternoon and the warmth made me drowsy. I took off my jacket and tried not to think about the pub just down the stairs and across the street. After a while, my stomach began growling at me. I took out my Dads old tobacco holder and tucked into the fresh alfalfa stash Id packed that morning. My father had once kept tobacco in that tin, constructing his cigarettes with the care and precision of an artist before smoking them down to the last inch using the tins lid as an ashtray. Dad was gone now, and the slender tin held nothing more than sprouts for me to snack on, but in some strange way, through this souvenir that was all I had left of him, I could still feel the essence of my father performing his familiar, comforting rituals. I waited another twenty minutes before they came out. Crystal walked unsteadily, as if each step had to be planned. Her face looked puffy with grief. Duong Nguyen had his arm draped around her shoulders like a scarf. His apparently permanent scowl looked like it had soaked up a lot of anger without spilling a drop. He fired up a cigarette and took the smoke into his lungs in a series of snarling grimaces. Crystal huddled under his arm, staring blankly at the ground. Duong flicked away his half-finished cigarette. I got to go class now, I heard him say. You still need lift tomorrow? She nodded, and he said, Okay, I pick you up in the morning. He scraped a kiss across her lips and hurried back into the building, already ripping a textbook out of his backpack. Crystal watched him go until he was out of sight. She stood there uncertainly for a moment, as if waiting for someone to tell her what to do next, before trudging off across the courtyard with her head down. I COLDER THAN BLOOD 31 ED ROWE

got to my feet, stretched, and casually followed her down a set of stairs and across to the student cafeteria. As she entered the building, a sleazy-looking guy wearing tight gym shorts timed his exit so that they had to squeeze past each other in the doorway. He came out with a leer spreading across his slimy face. It was an old perverts trick for copping a feel. I didnt know him from Adam, and most likely neither did Crystal, but his ribs accidentally copped a feel of my elbow as I strode past him. The cafeteria was crowded with students consuming their daily dose of fried junk. Dozens of conversations merged into one shapeless mass of background noise. The room stank of batter, dim sims, and bad coffee. Several people were ignoring the No Smoking sign and risking the wrath of the fire sprinklers. Crystal sat at a table by herself at the far end of the eating area. She appeared to be studying a textbook. I went to the counter and watched her while I waited to be served. She had dark Mediterranean eyes all pupils and long eyelashes and they were on the verge of boiling over with tears. The book was a prop; she was deep inside her thoughts and not doing any actual reading. I parted company with a fiver from my wallet and bought two foam cups of coffee. Crystals head popped up with surprise when I placed one of them on her table and slid it across to her. You look like you could use one of these, I said. She stared at me for a moment. Thanks, I think. Only half of her mouth could manage a smile. Light winked off a small, tasteful stud set into the side of her nose. I took that as my cue and sat opposite her. Go ahead, itll warm you up. I figured you for milk and two sugars, I hope thats okay. Crystal sipped the coffee tentatively. Im sorry, but do I, like, know you? No, but thats easily fixed. Im Jack. Well, thanks for the coffee, Jack, but I really need to study, and Ive already got a boyfriend, so if you dont mind... She gave me a feeble smile and went back to staring at her book. This was where I was supposed to make polite excuses and take off with my tail between my legs. Instead I got straight to the point. Crystal, Im investigating what happened to Tess Hinley. She looked up sharply when I said the name. COLDER THAN BLOOD 32 ED ROWE

I understand you and Tess were close friends, I explained. She was already shaking her head. I cant bear to talk about it right now. She sipped her coffee, holding the cup to her lips with trembling hands. I noticed a crucifix hanging from a gold chain around her neck. I showed her my most sympathetic smile. I know this is a difficult time, Crystal, but I only have a few questions. Look, she said, I dont mean to be rude, but Im really not in the mood for questions. Her mouth twisted wryly. I mean, hello? Im still, like, grieving here. But you might know something that can help me find the killer, I said. Do it for Tess, if not for me. It was the wrong thing to say. She looked at me properly for the first time. You you ghoul! Who are you? Some bloody reporter looking for a scoop? Get out of here before I call the security guards. Wait, Crystal, I just Get lost! Her eyes flashed contempt. I didnt get lost, but my temper did. Damn it, I didnt come here to pick a fight with you. Im here because I need your help to catch the bastard who killed your friend. Your friend, Crystal, not some stranger on the slab. My face was reddening, my hands clenching at air. So stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself, and start Crystal had backed as far away from me as she could. Her wide eyes shimmered with tears. I realised that Id angled across the table towards her, all the muscles in my ugly face bulging. Her breathing was quick and shallow. I had frightened her. Im sorry, I said, more gently. I sat back and forced my grimace to relax into a friendly smile. This is a rotten time for everyone. Look, all I need is some background information. Will you give me five minutes? I dont know, she said sulkily. I scalded my throat with a gulp of bitter coffee and pushed on. Do you have any idea who killed her? I asked. She shook her head. A tear squeezed out from the corner of her eye. You and Tess were close? Her lips trembled. Tess was so special. She was my best friend. Another tear slid down her cheek and she backhanded it away. Well, she used to be. Used to be? COLDER THAN BLOOD 33 ED ROWE

Crystal sighed. Wed drifted apart recently. Tess became, like, really distant. Not answering my calls, avoiding me in class, it felt like the brush-off, you know? Yeah, I imagine it would. So I hardly ever saw her anyway. She dabbed at her eyes. Ive been spending most of my time lately with my boyfriend, if you want to know the truth. Why did Tess go cold on you like that? She shrugged. Jealousy maybe? Jealous of what? She shrugged again. I thought she was okay about me and Duong. But maybe she felt kind of like resentful, you know? Ive been so wrapped up with Duong lately that I havent had time to pay attention to anyone elses feelings. Love of your life, huh? She gave me an irritated frown. Who the hell are you anyway? Why am I even telling you anything? Im, uh, a private investigator. Yeah, right, Crystal said with disdain. You dont look like one. Sure I am, I lied. We dont all wear trench coats and gun holsters. Fine, whatever, she said. She stared at my face. Did you get that on a case? I fingered the long scar. Something like that. Across the room, a group of jocks shouted a chorus of greeting to friends whod just entered the cafeteria. The coffee machine in the kitchen rattled and hissed and spat out another bad cappuccino. At the table next to us, an overweight girl with a sour face took the lid off a steaming, pungent curry. Why are you so interested in what happened to Tess? Crystal persisted. Her gaze turned suddenly penetrating. Did her parents hire you? Arent you supposed to, like, leave these things to the cops? I leaned forward to face Crystal squarely. You want to know why? I growled. Because Im going to find the son of a bitch who killed Tess, and Im going to feed him his teeth on a knuckle platter, thats why. My fingers clenched my foam cup so tightly that a spurt of hot coffee spilled out onto the back of my hand. The cops? When Im finished with him, they can have him. They can put whatevers left of COLDER THAN BLOOD 34 ED ROWE

him on trial. My God, Crystal said. Her eyes gleamed as she studied me with new interest. You are a detective! The belt of anger around my temples loosened a little. I gave her my best Mike Hammer grin. You said it, kitten. Youd really do that? she asked. Beat the guy up and not give a damn about the consequences? Her lips parted slightly and I saw a sliver of pink tongue. Wow, that is, like, so vigilante justice! My idea of justice is a broken nose, slammed over and over again into a brick wall. I was really hamming up the tough guy act now. So are you gonna help me or not? I drawled. She nodded eagerly. I do want to help, Jack. Glad to hear it. I almost added doll, but enough was enough. I know its not very Christian of me to want an eye for an eye, she said, but Tess was, like, my best friend, you know? I know. So Im willing to help you in any way I can. Her face brightened. Hey, do you have a business card? You know, in case I remember something later? Uh, Im out of cards right now, but heres my home number. I took a pen and notepad out of my jacket pocket and wrote out my details for her. I dont have a mobile, but theres an answering machine. Jack Marsh. The way she said my name made it sound brand new. She tossed her chestnut hair over her shoulder with a practised flick. What if you need to call me? Dont you, like, want my number as well? I couldnt tell if she was flirting or not. If I need it, Ill find it, I said in a confident voice, as if such things were trivial for hard-boiled detectives like me. I didnt feel it necessary to add that Id already pulled her address and phone number from Bennys White Pages. Okay, so, like, where do we go from here? she asked. Tell me anything you know about Tess that might be important. Where do I start? Did she have a boyfriend? She shook her head. I dont think Tess was seeing anyone, but I cant be a hundred percent sure. We hadnt exactly kept each other up to speed lately, you know? How about violent ex-boyfriends? Or hopefuls shed turned down COLDER THAN BLOOD 35 ED ROWE

who might have had a problem with rejection? Crystals eyes slid to one side. Im sorry, I cant think of anyone like that, she said. A faint blush coloured her cheeks. I filed it and let it pass for now. Any family trouble at home then? Sorry again. Im not much use, am I? She made a wry face. Its not your fault. I threw in a heavy sinker: The most you can do is tell me the truth as you know it, and thats what youve been doing, right? Crystal sighed. She spent a long minute studying her coffee cup. I should have realised something was wrong when she stopped coming to church, she said slowly. That was so not Tess. She was such a good Christian, and for her to drop out like that was totally out of character. When did this happen? Five, maybe six weeks ago, something like that. This was, like, before she started giving me the cold treatment. She gave me a curious sidelong look from under her eyelashes. Did you know that Tess helped me to find Jesus? I shook my head. I used to be, like, ultra clueless, would you believe? I had no idea what I was doing with my life. I kept stumbling around like a lost traveller looking for directions. Have you ever had that feeling, Jack? Once or twice. Well I had it bad, she said. Her hand rose automatically to her crucifix and she kneaded it between thumb and forefinger as she spoke. But then Tess introduced me to Jesus and I let Him into my heart. My life has been, like, so full of purpose ever since. Good for you. The conversation was nose-diving towards a sales pitch. What made Tess stop going to church? I asked to bring her back to the point. Crystal gave me a lopsided shrug. I dont know for sure. Whatever it was, it must have been something, like, truly evil for her to reject God and her friends. Reverend Hoffman tried to convince her to trust in Jesus, to have faith that He would be able to soothe her fears, but she just screamed at the Reverend and took off. Her fears? What was she afraid of? Well, I dont know exactly, but sometimes Tess would say weird things. Like, one time she told me she didnt feel in control of her own life. I asked her what she meant, and she said she felt dirty and used. COLDER THAN BLOOD 36 ED ROWE

I leaned forward. This was it. What did she mean by that? Crystal shrugged. She wouldnt tell me. She said I wouldnt, like, understand. Her lips compressed into a sultry pout. Me, her best friend. I was disappointed too, but I had one string left to play out. Tess told me she was afraid of a man, I said. She said hed forced her to do filthy things against her will, and that he was after her because shed betrayed him. Does that ring any bells? Crystals eyes narrowed with suspicion. What did you just say? she demanded, her voice suddenly icy. I couldnt believe my blunder. Uh, I said she must have been afraid of a man. I tried to will my face not to go red, but the blush was spreading like a plague. No, thats not what you said, Mr. Jack Marsh, if that really is your name. Her eyes were dark rocks pinning me against a hard place. Who are you really, and when did you talk to Tess, and why would she tell you anything when she wouldnt even talk to me, her best friend? Well, Ive been investigating Hello? Im not some dumb checkout chick you can dump a load of bullshit on. Her voice was getting louder. Ive got your phone number, remember, and if you dont come clean like five minutes ago, I am so going to the police with it! Alright, I snarled. Ill tell you what happened. Her mouth twisted with triumph. Youd better. I dealt her the full deck. The chase, the brown van, deciding to put things right myself. I admitted that I was only an amateur detective. I let Tess down when she needed my help, I finished. My jaw clenched as I imagined the brutalities that had been done to Tesss body. I wont rest until Ive found the bastard who butchered her. Crystal folded her arms and looked at me with undisguised contempt. I still dont believe you, she said. She pushed her coffee cup away from her as if suspicious that I might have drugged it. How do I know you didnt kill my friend? To hell with you then! I stood up to leave, the legs of my chair screeching across the floor behind me. Ive told you the truth and I dont give a rats arse whether you believe me or not. If you want to dob me in to the law, then go ahead. Just dont waste any more of my time. Ive got a killer to catch. COLDER THAN BLOOD 37 ED ROWE

Her eyes widened. Wait, she said. Wait just a minute please. I waited. I put attitude into every uncomfortable second of it. Crystal looked up at me uncertainly. I I do want to believe you, Jack, really I do. Its just hard to have faith in anyone right now, you know? Tell it to your priest, I said harshly. Ive got work to do, and Im going ahead with or without your help. Crystals voice was shaky, almost inaudible. But I do want to help. Please, Jack, be patient with me. Fresh tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. Im sorry I doubted you. Im still, like, in shock over all this, you know, so maybe Im a little emotional right now. If Im rough with you, I said, toning down my glare slightly, its because I dont have time to be Mr. Sensitive. I need to move fast while the trails still hot. I cant afford to waste time babysitting peoples feelings. I loved Tess, Crystal said. The tears leaked out right on cue and zigzagged down her face. She was my best my best friend. So you keep saying. Id gone too far. Crystal began crying openly, her face wrenched with anguish. People at other tables started to stare. I felt callous and ashamed of myself. Tesss murder had wounded me too, in some essential part of my heart, but this girl who had been Tesss closest friend was clearly hurting much, much worse. And here I was, bludgeoning her with aggression, as tactful as a punch in the nose. Um, well, thanks for your help, Crystal, I mumbled, backing away from the table. It was time to retreat. Ill, uh, let you know if I learn anything. She just stared up at me, the sight of her naked grief numbing me to the core. Her delicate frame shook with every wordless sob. She looked both vulnerable and vibrant at the same time, and beautiful all the way. I got out of there fast, before the urge to comfort her could take hold. Comforting Crystal was Duongs job. Besides, Id made enough of a fool of myself for one day. I legged it through the campus and back to my car. A young couple lay on the grass kissing passionately with electric delight in the gardens behind the car park. My skin tingled with regret. Had I merely imagined it, that last imploring look in Crystals eyes? Her desperate need for a hug? COLDER THAN BLOOD 38 ED ROWE

To hell with it, it didnt matter. Id bungled the meeting and there was no way of salvaging anything now. Just have to forget the whole debacle and keep moving. Forget about Crystal. Just keep moving and dont look back. I slammed the car door and took off with my foot heavy on the pedal. Behind me in the gardens, the fires of young love burned bright and hot, with no sign yet of the inevitable ashes.

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Chapter Five
fter a detour through a sandwich shop for some see-through ham on stale bread, I drove to Tesss address in Templestowe. The house had once been renovated in the cottage style, but its country charm had since been whittled away by time and neglect. The weatherboards needed a fresh coat of white paint and the grass needed a coat of green. Chipped and broken roof tiles crowded together in ragged rows like a boxers teeth. A sign attached to the gate told me to Beware Of The Dog; I ignored it and went on through. I stepped onto the veranda and put my knuckles to use on the front door. Nobody answered. I knocked again and a threadbare grey dog loped around from the backyard and whined at me. I gave the dog an ear scratch and it nuzzled affectionately against my leg. I hoped the Hinleys were remembering to feed the poor thing while they went through the routines of grief. Nobody was feeding my knocks though, that much was certain. I sneaked a look through the front windows, but all I could see was heavy drapes. Tesss parents were probably out taking care of funeral arrangements and other matters which I had no right poking my nose into. Anyway, with my usual level of tact, I probably would have ended up sticking my nose right into her fathers fist. It was late afternoon and the sun had slipped modestly behind a bank of clouds to change into its evening gown. The smell of newly cut grass came riding on a light wind from the house next door. I gave the dog one last scratch and went next door to give my knuckles a second chance. A fat teenager wearing a school uniform opened the inner door and pressed his pug nose against the flyscreen mesh. Whaddya want? His face was a minefield of pimples. Your parents home, kid? Nuh. Any other adults I can talk to? The kid scratched his nose. He looked like he was aching to pick it. Nuh. Some authority was called for here. Im a private investigator, I told him. Im trying to find out who killed Tess Hinley, the girl who lived next door. COLDER THAN BLOOD 40 ED ROWE

His eyes widened. No shit? He pushed out through the wire door and stood squinting up at me. He didnt look any better in the sunlight. She was a hot piece, she was. Real waste. So Ive heard. How much do you know about what happened? She got done in a school playground, they said on TV. A bloated pink tongue appeared between his lips. Guts and gizzards all over the swings and stuff. Do you know where Tesss parents are? Probably digging a hole at the bone farm. He grinned as if he thought he was the funniest kid on earth. His teeth were clogged with chunks of food. Wet patches had formed around his armpits from the exertion of opening the door. Did Tess get along with her parents? The kid shrugged his expansive shoulders. Who cares? This wasnt going well. Do you know if Tess had any trouble with her father? I didnt think it was likely that Tesss father had been the man in the brown van, but it had to be checked. Anything you tell me could be important to the investigation, I added, lending it the weight of a cops serious undertone. Do I look like her fucking diary? I took a deep breath and reminded myself to stay calm. Did you ever see or hear any signs of domestic violence? Ha! the kid said. Theyre fine. Fucking Brady Bunch in there. His eyes were piggy and defiant. You want to meet the bash artist on this street, try my old man. Nothings good enough for that bastard. His mouth hardened and he spat into the flowerbed. Mums no better. Just lets him wale into us, the dumb cow. Did you notice any personality changes in Tess? I asked to change the subject. Especially in the last six weeks? He shrugged. How would I know? I hardly knew the bitch. Would have slipped her the old beef injection though. He leered and pumped his hips to illustrate the point. She was some hot piece alright. I was almost ready to give up. Can you think of anything at all that might help? Nuh. The kids finger was edging towards his nostril again. Suddenly his face shifted gears into a crafty look. Oh yeah, now I remember... What? COLDER THAN BLOOD 41 ED ROWE

He gave me a crooked grin. How much you gonna pay me to tell you? Tell me first. If its good, well work out how much its worth. She was on drugs, he said in a sly voice. He rubbed his fingers together in the traditional wheres-my-bribe motion. Now I reckon a hot tip like thats gotta be worth at least twenty bucks Keep going and well see. What sort of drugs? Who knows? he said. And who cares? Drugs are for losers. What makes you think she was using? My mate and I saw her acting up about three months ago. She was stoned off her nut. Fell on her twat and sat there giggling like a dork. She might have just been drunk, I suggested. Nuh, she was stoned alright. Any fool can spot a junkie. She was off her nut. If the kid was telling the truth, this tip was gold. Where did she get the drugs? He shrugged. Who knows? Anywhere, everywhere. Just stand still on a city street, dealers be all over you like flies. He was just a kid trying to sound streetwise and cynical, but he was doing a fine job of it. I knew what he meant though. Certain parts of Melbourne are notorious drug zones. At the corner of Bourke Street and Russell Street in the city, for example, dealers lurk in storefronts and the back rooms of arcade parlours, trolling brazenly for customers. Catch their eye for five seconds and you can be walking away with foil-wrapped heroin five seconds after that. Trying to find out where Tess had scored her dope would be like looking for a syringe in a haystack. Often while waiting in the dole queue, Id seen drug addicts standing in line for their government sponsored fix money. Pale, bleary-eyed creatures, desperately hugging themselves against the shakes. The Tess Id met had looked nothing like those poor wraiths, but a lot can change in three months. She might have kicked the habit but been unable to escape the dark drug underworld itself. Youre on your way to earning that twenty dollars, I told the kid. Where did this happen? I gestured towards the Hinley property. Over there? Are you crazy? Nobodys stupid enough to shoot up in front of their olds. His fat face suddenly closed up into a sullen mass of flesh, as if hed just remembered one of his own familys failings. COLDER THAN BLOOD 42 ED ROWE

So where then? I forget. He shifted his weight and gave me a challenging stare. Think hard. Why should I? The kid finally gave in to his urge and plunged a finger deep into his nose. Hed obviously skipped etiquette class. I bet thisll help you remember, I said. I dug out my wallet and held a twenty right where his beady eyes couldnt miss it. The finger popped out. Gimme that. I handed him the money and he stuffed it into his pocket. Id just bribed my first witness. Now, I said, trying to be nice, where did you see Tess doing drugs? Some pool hall in the city. I was having a game there with my mate. Which pool hall? I told you before, I forgot. I grunted and held out another ten bucks. It disappeared into the kids pocket. My wallet was starting to look pretty slender. He leaned against the flyscreen door with his arms folded. Nuh, still doesnt help. I really did forget. He smirked. Looks like you wasted your dough. Kid, I said, through a forced smile, how about you ring your friend and ask him if he remembers. Why should I? His finger drilled into his nose again. He was back to acting bored and insolent: he knew he wouldnt get any more money out of me. In karate training, were taught to use our skills only for selfdefence. No matter how obnoxious your opponent, violence is never the answer. Flattening a certain fat finger inside a certain fat nose, as appealing as the idea was, wouldnt get me anywhere. Youd be helping my investigation, I said patiently. Youd be helping Tess too, in a way. He snorted. Who cares about Tess now? Shes as dead as dog shit. He tugged open the wire door. Piss off, copper. Ive got more important things to do. Id had enough. Like what, Fatso? Jerking yourself off? That stopped him. He slammed the door and squinted up at me with hard teenage eyes. The fuck you say to me? Hed probably rehearsed it on the little kids at school. COLDER THAN BLOOD 43 ED ROWE

You heard me, Fatso. Or are you deaf as well as obese? The kid blushed scarlet and only half of it was anger. I could tell he wanted to hit me, but I was bigger, tougher, and meaner-looking than he was. Get the fuck off my property! he demanded in a thick voice. He waved a chewed fingernail in the direction of Off The Property. Alright, Im going, I said darkly. But your old man wont be happy when I come back later and tell him youve obstructed an official investigation. The kids cocky sneer dropped half an inch. Maybe Ill even invent a story about you being caught shoplifting, I added, just to get him angrier. And then Ill keep coming back and making trouble for you until I get the answers I want. I shot him a menacing glare. So long, Fatso. I stomped off towards my car, moving slowly enough to give him a chance. Id almost reached the road when he called out, Okay! I paused, cocked an ear in his direction. Was that a belch I heard? Okay, you prick! Ill ring my mate. Ill ask him about the bloody pool hall. He sounded sulky. You happy now? I turned and stared hard at him. Make it quick. The kid raced inside. I wandered around the yard, thinking. At the fence adjoining Tesss place was a scraggly rosebush. I remembered the rose shed slipped into my buttonhole, the feel of her lips on mine. I picked a rose and sniffed it, but there was no fragrance of girl-next-door. I tossed it over the fence and it landed on the Hinleys veranda. Sweet dreams, Tess. The fat kid took five minutes to make his phone call. Alright copper, I got your bloody facts. Go on. My mate says it was The Green Triangle. I knew the place. It was in one of the seedy little alleys branching out from Chinatown in Little Bourke Street. It took you five minutes to ask that? Screw you. I was going over it with my mate. He reminded me of something else that might be important. What? The kids heavy face was sweaty. Ill tell you if you promise not to set my old man off. COLDER THAN BLOOD 44 ED ROWE

Tell me first and Ill consider it. That night, when Tess was stoned, she had a fight with her boyfriend, he said, rushing to get his words out. She was all happyhappy, kept demanding the guys attention and stuffing up his game. He got fed up and slapped her face. That was when she plopped down on the floor and started giggling. I remember it now. What was her boyfriends name? Dunno. I used to see him around here when he came to pick her up though. Yellow bastard. Carried a flick-knife on him. I called him a name once when he parked too close to our drive and the prick threatened me with it. A knife. A violent boyfriend. And Tess, hurt and vulnerable. My fingers wanted to clutch a throat. I bet he killed her, the kid continued. Silly bitch probably wasnt putting out enough, so he went crazy from blue balls, thats my theory. I could have taught his own balls a theory or two about sexism, but I doubted that it would do much to advance the feminist cause. Instead I asked, When did you last see this guy? Havent seen him around here since that night. They must have split up. Did the guy drive a brown van? I knew the van had only been stolen recently, but it was a way to test the kids veracity. The kid blinked. Nuh. Some little beat-up red thing. Have you seen any suspicious vehicles around the neighbourhood lately? I described the brown van for him. Think carefully. You think I go taking notes on every dickhead around here? I get enough grief from my old man without He trailed off, his fat throat bobbing as though he were choking on a bone. His expression wavered somewhere between hatred and shame. I decided to give him a break. Okay. What did her boyfriend look like? Big ugly yellow prick. Too many muscles and a wanky ponytail. The circuits in my brain clicked. He was Asian? Thats what I said, didnt I? A big yellow gook. He noticed my expression and sneered at me. You arent one of them political correctness dorks, are you? Not me, Fatso, you greasy tub of lard. His nostrils flared. Youve got what you wanted, copper. Now piss COLDER THAN BLOOD 45 ED ROWE

off and dont come back. I wasnt going to get any more out of him. Youd better pray that I dont have to, I said in a hard voice, and left. As I drove away, the kid held out his parting gift: an upraised middle finger. I couldnt help feeling a little bit sorry for him. With all that meanness and custom-built posturing, he was well on his way to becoming a carbon copy of his old man. I tried to absorb what Id learned. The mysterious ex-boyfriend had to be Duong. Hed been with Tess at least three months ago, and now he was dating her so-called best friend. Crystal had dodged telling me the whole truth and I wanted to know why. On the way home, I drove through the same intersection that had first hurtled me into this whole damned mess, and I knew that I was doing the right thing. For once, I was doing something with my life instead of just drinking up dole money and feeling useless. This was important. Tess was important. I was going to crack this case. I grinned at myself in the mirror and a hard-boiled sleuth grinned back. The confident mood evaporated abruptly as I drove into my apartment complex and saw two cops waiting on my doorstep.

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Chapter Six
henever the police come knocking, it usually means bad news. Theyre either there to arrest you or to ask you to identify the body of a loved one. Since I didnt have too many loved ones, my hopes for making tonights happy hour at The Hairy Elephant were looking pretty grim. I parked in my slot and walked towards them, trying not to let my apprehension show. The younger of the two cops, a presentable woman in her early thirties, followed my progress with a cool, unreadable stare. She looked lean and fit, with a narrow face, shrewd eyes, and sunset-red hair. Her trouser creases were ironed sharp enough to give paper cuts and she had an amused half-smile curve to her lips that made me wonder how many of my secrets she already knew. Her partner was the one to watch out for. A heavy beer gut drooped over his belt and his wrinkled suit strained to contain the rest of him. He had the pitted red nose of a serious drinker. He squinted at me from beneath a shadowy overhang of scowl as I approached, his lower jaw jutting out like a misaligned brick. Im Jack Marsh. I presume youre looking for me. I stuck out my hand, nice and friendly. The fat cop glared at my hand as if it were diseased. He opened his notebook and scrawled something. Probably Jack Marsh with an underline. His partner, however, reached out a slender hand and we shook. Mr. Marsh, Im Detective Sergeant Pearl, she said. This is Detective Constable Gars. Gars grunted an acknowledgement without looking at me. Whats going on? I asked. Wed like to ask you a few questions in relation to a case were investigating, Pearl said. If you dont mind. What case? You know damned well what case, buddy, Gars said, his voice like a gravel rockslide. His tact evidently hadnt improved since yesterdays phone conversation. I could have played dumb. But since they were here, they somehow already knew I was involved. Alright, what do you want to know? COLDER THAN BLOOD 47 ED ROWE

It would be better if we talked inside, Pearl said. I unlocked the door and led them into my living room. Their eyes scanned the apartment, no doubt casually noting the little details of my life: small TV wedged between window and wall heater; scuffed desk with empty bottle of Scotch pinning down the employment section of the newspaper; smells of dusty carpet and neglected saucepans. Conclusion: single, unemployed male with no prospects. My whole existence summed up and dismissed at a glance. Hurry up and ask your questions then, I said. Ive got things to do. Pearl took out her notebook and flipped it open. Where were you at approximately three oclock last Friday afternoon, Mr. Marsh? Driving home from the city. On Springvale Road? Yeah. Did you stop at the intersection of Maroondah Highway and Springvale Road at approximately four minutes past three? I couldnt say. I forgot to set my stopwatch. Gars pointed a stubby finger at me. Dont be a smart-arse, buddy. Sure, I said. As long as you promise not to be a dumb-arse. Garss fist tightened around his notepad. Why you Specifically, Pearl said, while you were stopped at that intersection, did a young woman named Tess Hinley climb into the back of your vehicle? You make it sound like hanky panky in the back seat, I said, grinning. If I were a chivalrous gentleman, Id deny everything to protect miladys honour... Pearls lips twitched. Mr. Marsh, I know you want to help or you wouldnt have made that anonymous call yesterday. So no more jokes, please. Its important that you treat this seriously and tell us as much as you can about what happened. Okay, I said, feeling humbled. I met her cool gaze. Its like I told Gars yesterday. I was waiting for a red light when this strange girl jumped into my car and begged for help. A guy in a brown van was after her. You going to write this down? Pearls stare was impassive. Later. Just tell it freely for now. I described the chase and Tesss subsequent recapture. I tried to give a verbatim account of the cryptic comments Tess had made. I didnt COLDER THAN BLOOD 48 ED ROWE

mention our kiss under the rose bush or my attempts to solve the case on my own. Next thing I knew, I finished, Tess was in the obit column, and thats when I rang triple-O and laid the skinny on Gars here. Thought you were real clever with that phone call, didnt you? Gars said. One of us had to be, I replied, and it clearly wasnt going to be you. Yeah, well you werent so clever that I couldnt find you, buddy. Youre not so clever as you think. Howd you find me? I was genuinely curious. We checked the area around that intersection for witnesses. A shopkeeper spotted the Hinley girl running from the van to your car, thought it looked suspicious, and made a note of the licence plates. His face tightened with malice. That was all I needed to nail you down. I was impressed. Looks like you were paying attention after all. He speared a porky finger at me. I always pay attention. Especially when punks are mouthing off and telling me to shut up. His glare scorched the air between us. I tried to stare him down, but its not easy being tough when the other guy has a gun strapped to his belt. Pearl tapped her pen against her notepad to get my attention. Mr. Marsh, she said, Id appreciate it if youd come back to the station with us so that we can go over your story in more detail. Her voice was throaty and persuasive. What for? Ive told you all I know. Sometimes people remember things more accurately in a formal environment. She smiled reassuringly as if to show how simple it all was. Besides, youll need to sign a statement at some point anyway, so why not get it over with now? I have this strange disease, I said. My memorys allergic to police stations, and my penmanship starts to deteriorate the closer I get to an interrogation room. This is getting nowhere, Gars grunted. His jaw muscles flexed. Let me slap the cuffs on him and Sorry, who were you again? I deadpanned at him. I swivelled back to Pearl and grinned, determined to rip through her cool exterior somehow. You see? The mere mention of a cop shop and my memory goes all to hell COLDER THAN BLOOD 49 ED ROWE

A wrinkle of annoyance flickered across her forehead. Have you forgotten that Tess Hinley was murdered? she said in an iced-tea tone. All the humour drained out of me in an instant. No, I havent forgotten. Good. She put her notebook away. Youre ready to go then? Am I under arrest? No, youre simply helping us with our inquiries. Her tone was professional and gave nothing away. Okay? It was time to stop clowning anyway. I sighed, resigning myself to an evening of law enforcement tedium. Then Gars ruined it all by saying, Not like you got a choice anyhow, buddy. My stubbornness flared up. Youre wrong, I told him. Pearl just said Im not under arrest. So maybe Ill just stay right here and watch Big Brother on TV instead. I emphasised the point by sitting on the edge of my desk and folding my arms. Gars was livid. Youll do what youre told, punk! Not by you, errand-boy. Get a judge to tell it to me on a warrant and then maybe Ill listen. Gars looked like he wanted to slug me. He probably knew plenty of unofficial ways to stop guys like me from spraying him with the smart mouth. But with his senior officer in the room, he couldnt use any of them. He jammed his hands into his pockets so that they couldnt punch anyone. I grinned at him and the pockets bulged. Pearl stepped between us. Mr. Marsh, lets not make this any more difficult than we have to, she said. All were asking for is your cooperation. Okay? I let her wait a long moment before answering. Okay, I said at last. Even though mutual cooperation seems to be in short supply around here. I looked at Gars. Thats a hint, by the way. Gars gave me a hard stare. You think youre real funny, dont you? Sure. Put a coin in my hat and Ill tell you the one about the nun and the bear. His face darkened. One of these days, he said, things are gonna be different. You wont be laughing then, buddy. Alright, lets go, Pearl said brusquely. Why dont you follow us to the station in your car, Mr. Marsh, so that you can make your own COLDER THAN BLOOD 50 ED ROWE

way home afterwards. Well try to make this as quick and painless as possible. Fine, I said. Its not like I had a life to lead or anything. My neighbour, Mrs. Vanguard, scowled at me from her doorway as I left with the cops. She had a cat perched in the crook of her arm and was no doubt praying Id be simultaneously arrested and evicted. The old widow had disliked me since the day I moved into the apartment block. Apparently I was not the right material for this respectable neighbourhood. The fact that I also didnt like cats only further cemented Mrs. Vanguards disapproval. I stuck my tongue out at her as I went past and she slammed her door with a Harrumph! The cops drove ahead of me without using the siren. I busied myself thinking up fresh wisecracks to use on Gars and witty double entendres to use on Pearl. The sky was getting darker now, the departing sun reddening the horizon. I could still smell a hint of Tesss apricot perfume inside the car. The Ringwood police station was a grey building with garish yellow window frames. Gars was nowhere in sight, but Pearl was waiting for me at the security door. I parked in a space marked Visitors and we went through into an air-conditioned reception area. Inside was a long, polished wooden counter, with a uniformed constable propping it up. Bright blue doors led off into the bowels of the station. Pearl escorted me along several corridors to a windowless interrogation room. The room contained a metal table, some hard-backed chairs, and a three-copy interview recorder. Pearl put fresh tapes into the recorder, announced the date and time, and then launched in. She questioned me about the chase over and over, refining the level of detail with each iteration. I was surprised at some of the additional facts she helped me to remember. Descriptions of the brown van became clearer and more precise. I remembered the Volvo that the van had smashed off the road, which seemed to please Pearl, as if Id confirmed other corroborating evidence. She brought in a street map and I pointed out the path Id taken. I was careful not to mention my amateur investigation or anything that Id learned since Tesss murder. For the time being, I was keeping my theories about Tesss drug habit and Duongs sordid little love triangle all to myself. After a while, Gars knocked and entered. He whispered something to Pearl that I couldnt hear, then sat and glared at me while she COLDER THAN BLOOD 51 ED ROWE

continued her questioning. Something dark in his face suggested that he would have preferred a more direct method of forcing facts to the surface, whether they existed or not. At one point, Pearl asked, Did Tess mention a man named Kurt Drucker? Huh? Whos he? Just a name we found in her personal papers. It might mean nothing. Does the name mean anything to you? I noticed that she was watching me keenly. Ive never heard of him. Youre sure? Im sure, I said. But I made a mental note to check it out later. The interview went on and on. Pearl did most of the talking, with Gars throwing in the occasional snide remark. I felt like Id raked through the whole thesaurus telling the same story over and over. I finally exploded. For crying out loud! How many more times do you expect me to repeat myself? Were almost done, Jack, Pearl said. She was as cool and unflappable as ever, but at least I had been promoted to Jack now. Just a few more things to clarify and then you can go. You said this would be over quickly. I waggled my watch in her face. That was three and a half hours ago! And youve been very helpful. We wont keep you much longer. Now, back to what you saw when the driver jumped out of the van... Ive told you and told you, I didnt see him clearly. How convenient, Gars said dryly. Whats that supposed to mean? He shrugged. If you didnt see him, and nobody else saw him, then maybe he wasnt there at all, you follow? I turned to Pearl. The killer was there alright. That van didnt drive itself. But Pearl said nothing. In the silence, Gars kept his relentless redeyed stare locked on my face. The walls loomed closer and the air in the room seemed to turn sour. They had zeroed in on the shaky part of my story and pounced. If youre suggesting that I Gars raised his palms in mock appeasement. Im not suggesting anything, buddy. All Im saying is we got us a period of time here COLDER THAN BLOOD 52 ED ROWE

where anything could have happened. Maybe the van came back, like you say, and maybe it didnt. We got to take all the possibilities into consideration, you follow? Get to the point, if youve got one. Point is we got to wonder if maybe theres things you havent told us yet. He leaned towards me, his face ballooning with menace. Like how you killed the Hinley girl yourself, for example. I held his stare. Well, there is one important fact Ive been holding back. He arched his thick eyebrows. Spill it. The fact that youre an overweight, peanut-brained ape with all the charisma of a rotten banana. Garss face turned dark red. He ground his teeth hard to keep from saying the wrong thing on tape, but his eyes blazed with all the things he wanted to say. A soft knock on the door broke the tension. Pearl said, Interview suspended at 8:05 p.m., and stopped the tape. I thought I saw the hint of a smile touch her lips as she went to the door. The man outside wore a lab coat and carried a folder under his arm. Pearl excused herself and went out into the hall to talk to him, closing the door behind her. Now it was just me and the ape. Gars raised his head slowly. Fiery hate shone in his eyes. Im gonna pound you into mincemeat, you cocky piece of shit. Go ahead and try, I told him. But youd better make your first punch count. Oh, I will, buddy, he said. When the times right. One day youll be driving too fast, or driving too slow, or acting suspiciously, or maybe just acting the fool. And Ill be there to break you down, you follow? The door opened and Pearl returned. Gars and I both tried to look nonchalant, like two schoolboy enemies pretending to behave in front of the teacher. Okay, Jack, youre free to go, Pearl said. Thanks for taking the time to assist us with our inquiries. The pleasure, I said, standing, has been all yours. She gave me my copy of the interview tape along with a statement form to sign. I put my squiggle on it and to hell with the fine print. Gars gave me one last dagger stare as I left the room; I caught it and threw it right back at him. Pearl led me through the warren of halls and blue doors until we COLDER THAN BLOOD 53 ED ROWE

were back outside. It was full dark now and the night air was cold. Pearl shivered. She was just a cop doing her job, but I still felt an awkward tension between us, as if neither of us was quite ready yet to say goodbye. Thanks again, Jack, she said. If you remember anything else, you know what to do. She was wearing her unreadable Mona Lisa smile again. Yeah. In the meantime, keep yourself available in case we need to speak to you again. In other words, dont leave town, buster, is that what youre saying? Just keep yourself available. Her unflappable calm irritated me. Dont worry, babe, I said, with an exaggerated wink. Im always available for a hot date with the lady law. Pearls eyes flashed. Was that a sexist remark? I showed her a grin. Its called a joke, Pearl. She gave me a withering glare. Do you think youre funny? Degrading women with your so-called jokes? I havent degraded Stupid jokes like that only perpetuate the male dominant culture of abuse in this society. Her voice turned shrill. Dont you think you men, with your chauvinist pig attitudes, have oppressed women long enough? Id managed to pry up her shell at last, but I was starting to regret it. Look, Im sorry if you thought And if you think you can get away with displaying offensive behaviour towards a female officer, then youd better think again! Her shoulders were stiff and angular with feminist fury. You men have preyed on women since the beginning of time, but now were fighting back, and believe me, we will fight for our equality. Dont shoot me. I held out my hands in a peace gesture and tested a smile. I may have a stupid sense of humour, but I do actually respect women. Pearl squinted at me for a long, suspicious moment. Good, she said. She looked slightly embarrassed. Just so were clear. Clear as mud. COLDER THAN BLOOD 54 ED ROWE

Good. She had regained her composure. You can go now. Thanks. I offered Pearl my hand. She looked surprised, but after a moments hesitation, she took it. Her handshake was brisk and cool. Let me know if you catch the bastard, I said. Oh, we will catch him. Her eyes scalded me like hot steam. Whoever he is, that animal will never hurt another woman again... As I walked to where Id parked my car, I wondered whether that last threat had been meant specifically for me, or just aimed in general at anyone with an appendage between his legs. I glanced behind me, feeling an apprehensive twinge between my shoulder blades, but Pearl had already disappeared back inside the building. It was a quarter past eight and I was starving. Time for a fast food run. I got into the car and shut the door. What the hell? I could smell an unpleasant odour that hadnt been there before. Body odour. Somebody had been in my car. Gars, I thought, and the veins in my temples throbbed. I turned on the map light and checked the backseat area. Everything looked the same, but the food wrappers and crumpled papers on the floor were distributed in slightly neater patterns than usual. Gars must have illegally searched the car for evidence, and there wasnt a damned thing I could do to prove it. I wouldnt have put it past him to plant a frame either. Then I remembered the lab coat guy whod spoken to Pearl in the hallway, and the way shed stretched out the interrogation interminably until hed shown up, and my paranoia increased. I sped off with an angry screech of tyres. The police obviously considered me a suspect. Right at this moment, they could be coming up with the theory that Id kidnapped Tess, and that the guy chasing us in the van had been her friend trying to rescue her. They could wrap me up in a nice, neat parcel of circumstantial evidence, stow me in remand for months, and then shove me in front of a sceptical jury to tell a story that wouldnt have grown any less flimsy with age. I had to find the killer now, before it was too late. Innocent men get railroaded into prison all the time. I already knew my next step. It was time to unravel that messy romantic knot that tied Duong Nguyen into all this. According to the fat neighbour kid in Templestowe, Duong had exercised his slapping hand on Tesss face at the pool hall a few months ago. Thinking about that COLDER THAN BLOOD 55 ED ROWE

made my knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as I aimed the car towards the city. You cant find justice at an overworked police station. You cant find it in the courts. And you sure as hell cant find it in a pine box buried six feet under the daisies. I was one of the few guys still selling the stuff, and right now it was on special for less than cost price. I vowed not to rest until Id found justice for Tess. Whoever said that the dead forsake all debts, lied.

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Chapter Seven
he Green Triangle was in one of the dark cul-de-sac alleys branching out from Chinatown, tucked in between a Korean restaurant and a souvenir imports shop. I was wearing my leather jacket to ward off the night chill, my breath appearing in the cold air like a mist-shrouded ghost. The ozone scent of an approaching thunderstorm competed with the stale exhaust fumes left over from the rush hour bedlam. Shadows grew and twisted ahead of me like a thiefs fingers as I entered the alley, while a nearby car alarm cried wolf. I found the entry door beneath a flickering neon depiction of a pool rack, one side of its illuminated triangle winking off and on with a nervous tic. The foyer was just a concrete box with an elevator set into one of its stained walls. Muffled music came thumping down through the air vents from the room above. I thumbed the up button and waited as the elevator came clanking down. The doors slid open and I was almost knocked over by a short youth who rushed out without looking and slammed into my shoulder. My foot resisted an urge to stick itself out and trip him. The youth made a grunt that might have been an apology, but which sounded more like an obscenity, before darting out into the alley. My foot resented the missed opportunity. The pool hall was busier than Id expected for a Monday night. I counted about twenty tables and nearly all of them were occupied. Cigarette smoke hovered around the fluorescent lights above the tables and the air was hot and stuffy. A jukebox belched outdated rap music at ear-splitting volume. I took off my jacket and tried to take shallow breaths. I wandered around the big room, casually checking out the games in progress and studying the people. Most of the players were young men, many of them Asian. One tough-looking shark challenged me to a game, but I pretended not to hear. Duong wasnt here. That was okay though; I hadnt expected to find him. I crossed to the bar where a sour-faced woman with grey hair tied back in a bun was serving drinks. She wore a badge with Margaret stencilled on it, and I was betting a thousand to one that was her name. A sign with a long list of Do-Nots was prominently displayed on the wall behind her. Gday Margaret, I said. Ill have a whisky, please. COLDER THAN BLOOD 57 ED ROWE

We dont serve spirits in here, she said. She sounded grouchy. Then make it a VB. She took a glass and filled it from the tap. There was almost as much head as there was beer. Four fifty, she said, setting the glass on a cheap paper coaster. It was a blatant rip-off, but I paid it without complaint. Its only dole money, I reasoned, and besides, she might have information. Busy night? I asked. Its always busy. You want a table? She was polishing a glass with a filthy, grease-spotted rag. I eased my drink back onto the coaster untouched. Actually, Im looking for one of your customers. I was watching her face carefully. Duong Nguyen. You know him? Never heard of him. But she was lying: her lips tightened and her eyes seemed to sag and grow wary. I pulled out the photo printout from Crystals web page and showed it to her. This guy. Recognise him now? Her eyes flicked involuntarily towards four Asian guys playing doubles at one of the nearby tables. Never seen him before. You sure about that? She shook her head. I dont know anything, she said. I dont know anybody. I just work here. She started scrubbing another glass with the rag. Her hands fumbled it and she almost dropped the glass. Something was wrong here and it wasnt just the no-spirits rule. Thanks for nothing, I said. I took my beer and gestured with it towards the group of Asian men. Maybe his mates will be more helpful, I muttered as I walked away. Wait! Margaret shouted over the music. Her long face, pinched with tension and nostrils flaring, made her resemble a panicked horse. I moved back to the bar. Remembered something, have you? Youd better not start any fights. She twisted her hands in the cleaning rag and squinted at me. I wont have you bothering the customers. Ill make sure I say please. Her lips pursed as if tugged by a drawstring. Dont you even think about stirring up trouble, or Im calling the cops right now! Im not looking for trouble. Im looking for Duong Nguyen. Why? Her long face drooped even lower with worry. COLDER THAN BLOOD 58 ED ROWE

Because I can. She sighed heavily and looked me over with distaste, her palms flat on the counter. She beckoned with her head and I leaned in close enough for whispering. You dont tell anyone I told you this, okay? she said. You dont tell anyone. That Nguyen boy, hes a real bad egg, understand? I dont want him coming after me. Hes no friend of mine, I assured her. Margaret laughed without mirth. You dont want him for an enemy either, let me tell you. I raised an eyebrow. Oh? About two months ago, he got into a fight with a guy who bumped his cue. Nguyen pulled a flick-knife. The other boy got a slashed ear, and it could have been much worse if Nguyens friends hadnt held him back. What did you do? Well of course I called the cops. But by then, the kid with the bleeding ear had taken off in a panic, and since he wasnt a member, I had no details to give to the police. Nguyen denied everything, naturally, and his mates backed him up. She glared at the Asian players across the room. It was my word against theirs, and without a victim or any evidence, the cops wouldnt do a thing. What about the knife? He must have palmed it to one of his mates before the police searched him. They didnt find it. She grimaced. So he still keeps coming in, all puffed up and cocksure as if he knows hes untouchable. You mentioned membership details, I said. Is Duong a member? Yes, hes a regular. We have discounts. So youd have contact details for him, yes? She studied me warily. Who are you, anyway? Why are you so interested in that no-good troublemaker? Maybe I just want to bend his ear a little, I said, putting a hint of unspecified danger into my voice. Have a nice friendly chat about politics and religion. She squinted at me. If I give you his address, will you leave me alone? Alright. And you wont tell him where you got the information? Her jaw COLDER THAN BLOOD 59 ED ROWE

was set. I dont want a knife in my face, understand? You have my word, I said. Margaret gave me one last suspicious squint before hauling a large folder out from under the bar. She leafed through it until she found Duongs membership form. I borrowed a pen and wrote his Collingwood address on the back of my beer coaster. Dont forget your promise, she said. She looked dried out and haggard. I dont want any trouble. I can handle trouble just fine. Its not you Im worried about, she said. She jammed her fists into her hips and thrust her horsy chin forward. Do you have any idea what I have to put up with here? Working alone in this dump every night for a pittance, always afraid that some young punk is going to carve up my face over a bill dispute, and for what? For what, I ask you? I didnt have the answer either, so I thanked her and headed for the elevator, leaving my beer untouched on the counter. Margaret needed it more than I did. I considered tackling Duongs mates anyway, but theyd probably just clam up with the No Speak English routine and laugh behind my back. Besides, I was tired, grumpy, and hadnt eaten since lunchtime. The elevator arrived and the same short youth whod bumped me on the way up rushed out impatiently and crashed into me again. This time, however, I put some shoulder into the matter and he went sprawling onto the floor. Watch yourself, runt, I told him. He had a shaved head and wore a heavy metal T-shirt, but with his height, he was never going to successfully pull off the tough look. He sprang to his feet, cooking me with red-faced anger, and then ran off into the smoky depths of the pool hall. It felt good to breathe the chilled night air after the stagnation inside. I rode my heels out to Little Bourke Street, Melbournes own small strip of China, a narrow street lined with gaudy, pseudo-Oriental arches and globe-shaped streetlights. A group of elderly women huddled together outside the Korean restaurant, warding off their fear of the night by chattering more loudly than they needed to. Strange smells of spice and exotic vegetables hissed out on a breath of steam from the restaurants air vents. I heard excited voices behind me. Three guys came out of the alley COLDER THAN BLOOD 60 ED ROWE

and began following me. One of them was the vertically-challenged twerp Id tangled with outside the elevator. They stayed at a steady distance a few paces behind me. I ignored them and walked to a nearby Hungry Jacks and bought a hamburger and a soft drink to chase it with. I ate my dinner at a table near the window. The three youths lurked in a shopfront outside, playing the intimidation game. The runt shook his fist at me whenever I looked at him. I finished eating and headed for the parking lot where Id left the Commodore. The streets were full of half-life people, the forgotten and the dangerous who roam the fringes of society. Teenage gangs clustered in front of fast food outlets, passing cigarettes and doing their best to imitate American hip hop culture. An old woman with wild hair blocked peoples paths and begged aggressively for small change. Two mean-faced men dressed in black walked side by side along the Bourke Street strip, scrutinising the body of every young woman they passed in some mysterious, unfathomable search. I glanced behind me after a block, but I couldnt see my friends from The Green Triangle. I felt an odd sense of letdown, as if part of me had been secretly looking forward to the fight. I walked past a nightclub and stole a look at the girls in the queue; many of them wore skirts that were little more than belts, and bras that werent there at all. An Aboriginal couple sitting in a caf bickered loudly about money. I passed a late-working businessman who clutched his briefcase like a shield and gestured anxiously to attract a taxi. The city hummed like a hornets nest of damaged souls, while from high above, the massive skyscrapers looked down on us all with silent contempt. I entered the multi-storey car park where my car was stashed. The place was deserted, apart from empty cars and litter, and the dark areas between the fluorescents seemed to seethe with menace. The back of my neck prickled and I spun around. The three guys from the pool hall had followed me inside. The runt glowered at me with undisguised hatred. A cruel sneer played about his mouth. The other two were anything but runts. For some reason, I didnt think they were after a fourth to play bridge. I steeled myself for what was coming. The runt said, Now youre gonna get it. His voice was highCOLDER THAN BLOOD 61 ED ROWE

pitched and choked with anger. Ill shove you on the floor, you son of a bitch. You been picking on Tony here? one of the other toughs asked me. He looked as if hed grown up in a gym. Despite the cold, he was wearing a tank top to show off his muscles. Why dont you take on someone your own size, huh? He made a fist and the muscles expanded. The third punk was tall, wiry, and scarred with acne. Yah, he said. Someone like us! He smacked his fists together theatrically. Probably wasnt allowed out much. Fellas, I dont want any trouble, I said. Look around you, Tony said. Youve got trouble! Not from you, runt. Tonys cheeks reddened. He pulled a small folding knife from his jeans pocket and mimed cutting off one of my body parts and shoving it somewhere else. He wasnt referring to a haircut. Guys, I said, I have a brown belt in karate. Thats one belt before black, by the way. And Im not in the mood for this nonsense. I kept my limbs loose and ready. Hes full of shit! shouted Tony. He held the knife in an amateurs grip: too tight, and angled for stabbing rather than slashing. You believe that shit, Rex? Rex was the guy with the muscles. He simply shrugged. Youd better believe it, Shorty, I said. Unless youre fond of hospital food. You hear that mouth, guys? Tony said. Listen good, cause it wont sound so snappy without a tongue. He made a comprehensive gesture with the knife that resembled a runt cutting out a tongue. How do you like that idea, you son of a bitch? Ill be sure to remember it once Ive got that knife. Oh, youll get the knife alright, he said. Ill freshen up that scar on your cheek for you and give you a matching one on the other side. Dont blink, I said. You might miss me shaking with terror. Rex had been watching patiently. He looked amused. Okay, mate, he said. How about you give Tony here your wallet and an apology, and maybe he can be persuaded not to cut you into An apology! Tony shrieked, and lunged at me with the knife. It came flashing towards my chest. COLDER THAN BLOOD 62 ED ROWE

I hadnt been lying about the brown belt. I pivoted to avoid the knife thrust and slammed a knuckled fist into Tonys solar plexus as he blundered past. He crashed to the concrete, clutching his ribs and wheezing. The knife lay within reach, but he was in no condition to reach for it. The tall, ugly thug watched in shock for a moment, and then snapped out of it and crouched in a clumsy boxers stance. He launched a punch at my head. I blocked it easily. He cranked back his fist for another try and I flattened him with a stiff jab to the nose. He fell on his butt and sat there blinking stupidly. The bodybuilder still hadnt moved. Impressive, he said. His expression hadnt changed, but the rest of him was taut and ready. Yes. And completely unnecessary. What the fuck are you waiting for, Rex? the runt screamed. Bash him! Rexs eyes never left my face. You say youve got a brown belt in karate? I gestured at his fallen friends. Theres the proof. Well Ive got bad news for you, mate, he said. Ive got a black belt in tae kwon do. He shifted into fighting stance. Im going to tear you apart, karate-boy. Bash him good! Tony added. Rex came at me with a double-punch combination that I hadnt seen before. I blocked it with a crossed-arms block and countered with a front kick to the stomach. Rex knocked it aside with a knee and my foot only grazed his hip. He tried for a grapple as my momentum spun me around, but I brought out a hard gyakuzuki punch from way back behind my shoulder. My fist exploded into his chest and staggered him back three steps. Bastard, he said, gasping for breath, and came at me again. This time I didnt wait. I feinted with an open left hand, then whipped out a powerful mawashigeri roundhouse kick. Rex dodged to avoid it, lashing out with a desperate punch that had no control behind it. I caught his flailing wrist and twisted it up behind his back. He cried out as I yanked on his arm to immobilise him. Ive heard that it only takes two years to get a black belt in tae kwon do, I said in his ear. They hand them out like fast food dinners. Fuck you! he forced out through clenched teeth. His face COLDER THAN BLOOD 63 ED ROWE

looked mottled. I jerked his wrist higher and he screamed. It takes a lot longer to get a karate black belt, I continued, but once youve got it, youve damn well earned it. My brown belt is worth two of your cheap blacks. I let go of his arm and shoved him forward, with a boot in the pants to help him on his way to the concrete. He rolled over and glared at me, but Rex wasnt getting up for another round and we both knew it. So long, runt, I said to Tony, who looked at me with murder in his eyes. Watch you dont accidentally cut yourself with that knife. Youre short enough as it is. I left them cursing and rubbing their sore parts, and took the stairs up to fetch the car. I felt pumped with adrenaline. Let Marlowe and Spade take their beatings and saps to the back of the head; the streets were meaner in real life, and if you went down here, youd stay down. To survive in a rough world, youve got to be rougher. Six years of karate training had kept me fit, confident, and safe from harm. I usually visited the karate hall at least two times a week. Since becoming unemployed, Id made a deal with the owner, Sensei Randall, to teach some of the junior classes in exchange for free tuition. I was also looking forward to finally trying out for my black belt at the next grading exam. I drove home, filled a hot bath, and opened a beer. I left the beer outside the tub within easy reach and let the heat unwind my muscles. By the time the water had cooled, my adrenaline rush had ebbed away and been replaced by self-loathing. Id provoked an easy fight for no good reason and it made me feel lousy. At least this time I hadnt had one of my panic attacks afterwards. I tried to stave off the black mood by keeping active. I towelled off quickly and grabbed the phone. Benny? You awake? Jesus F. Christ! he sputtered. Do you have any bloody idea what time it is? Whats the matter? Did I interrupt you in the middle of spanking the monkey? He snorted. Youre just lucky I wasnt asleep, you filthy baboon. Hey, Im not filthy, I protested. Ive just had a bath. Is it that time of the year already? Muted gunfire sounded in the background. So what do you want, baboon? More free favours, Ill bet. COLDER THAN BLOOD 64 ED ROWE

Well, now that you mention it Benny groaned. Well spit it out then. Ive just downloaded the latest version of Counter-Strike and Im in the middle of a clan match. More gunfire, the clack of a keyboard. Counter-Strike rocks, man! You gotta get into it. Some of us are too busy living real lives to waste time on computer games. Jack, life is a game, he said. If you take it too seriously, youll never make the high score table, know what I mean? I heard a digitised explosion. Jesus, Im getting owned here! Quick, what do you want? Remember that Duong Nguyen guy? I said. Theres a chance he might have a criminal record. Is there some way you can find out? I doubt it. I can do Google searches easily enough, and I know a few other tricks, but thats about it. I dont have access to any of the police databases. Cant you hack your way in? Youve been watching too much Hollywood crap again, Jack. He sniggered. Besides, I left my Apple Mac on the alien mothership. Huh? Nerd joke. I heard the boom of a shotgun. Ah, take that, you bloody camper! He cackled at somebody or something in his video game. There was more gunfire. His voice in my ear said, Alright, Ill see what I can do. Is that all you wanted, baboon? I sifted through my tired thoughts and recalled the name Pearl had tossed at me. While youre at it, see what you can find out about a guy named Kurt Drucker. Who the hells he? Thats what youre going to tell me. Why the hell should I? A virtual machine gun rattled in the background. For that warm glow youll get from doing a good deed for a mate. My voice was exaggeratedly droll. Stuff that. How about you bring over that bottle of Wild Turkey you owe me, Ill get my warm glow from that. Later. I havent pissed in it yet. That won me the first laugh, so I hung up while I was ahead. I knew hed try his best to find the information. Benny and I shared a skewed, competitive sense of humour, but behind the gags we jousted with lay a COLDER THAN BLOOD 65 ED ROWE

deep, unspoken friendship that would only have suffered from awkwardness if expressed out loud. Our best friends are often the ones with whom we share the silliest private jokes. I set my alarm clock for an early start; tomorrow was going to be a busy day. Duong had told Crystal hed pick her up in the morning, and wherever they went, I wanted to be there to scoop up any clues they might drop. In bed, however, my glum mood returned. The pillow was too warm and the sheets kept tangling no matter how much I kicked. Memories of things I wasnt proud of kept crowding into the bed and whispering ugly reminders in my ear. I couldnt sleep. In the end, after wrestling with it for an hour, I got up and poured myself a drink.

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Chapter Eight
he crack of dawn wasnt pleased to see me. It gnashed its teeth at the back of my neck and howled in my ears until I tamed it with a strong coffee and some peanut butter on toast. Even then it still rattled its claws against the bars. I felt a little more human after putting on a shower, a shave, and some fresh clothes. My old leather jacket needed a polish, but I figured it wouldnt result in three wishes. By the time Id driven out to Collingwood, my body had grudgingly accepted the fact that I intended to stay awake. The sun was peeking over the horizon, trying to decide if it was safe to emerge. All the early birds were still tucked blissfully into their nests of sin, dreaming of worms. According to my dashboard clock, it was 6:13 a.m. Duongs apartment block was a horseshoe-shaped eyesore: four storeys of ugliness huddled around a choked parking bay. Fifty cramped concrete boxes that would boil the tenants in summer and freeze them in winter, voluntary prisons for people without the luxury of choice. Duong lived in flat thirty-two, according to The Green Triangles records. I tracked down his numbered parking spot and found a red Datsun with sagging tyres, rust pockmarks, and a P plate tacked to the windscreen. I tried the doors, but the car was locked. I went up the slippery stairs to Duongs apartment on the third floor. On the door buzzer his name was printed, illuminated, and confirmed. From the outward size of the apartment, I guessed it was a one-bedroom bachelor pad, not all that different from mine. The drapes behind the front window were drawn and a gangly pot plant on the window ledge was the only sign of life. I pressed my ear to the door and listened to the silence within. A faint stale odour of cabbage wafted through the cracks. I noticed a few homemade cigarette butts scattered near the welcome mat. I sniffed one, not really expecting to find any clues, which was just as well because it was only tobacco. Feeling more like a peeping Tom than a detective, I hotfooted it back to my car, reparked to get a better view of the apartment, and then settled in for a long wait. At around seven-thirty, the neighbourhood began to come to life. Businessmen waved goodbye to their wives and sped off towards workaholic tedium. A newspaper boy zigzagged up and down the street. Impatient car horns began blaring from the nearby highway. Eight COLDER THAN BLOOD 67 ED ROWE

oclock and the schoolkids emerged, trussed up in identical uniforms, ready for another day of learning to become just like everyone else. Housewives juggled grocery bags and infants with indifferent dexterity and tried not to let their weariness show. I wound down my window and yawned, letting the cool morning air into my lungs. Somewhere nearby, a small dog practised its soprano. Id brought along the Lawrence Block novel. I propped the book against the steering wheel and resumed where Id left off: detective Matt Scudder continued to trudge doggedly all over New York in an effort to detect the location of his next AA meeting. I glanced up at Duongs apartment every time I turned a page. Chewing alfalfa sprouts kept my jaws from getting bored, but didnt do much for my butt or the pins and needles in my calves. A couple of hours later, a scrawny kid who should have been at school came out into the courtyard. He kept trying to stuff a limp basketball into a crude wire hoop that had been fastened to the second floor railing, but anyone could see that he wasnt going to make it without a stepladder. Two faded housewives, each wearing an apron and carrying a basket of dirty clothes, met at the door to the communal laundry and began gossiping in a foreign language. An old man with a crooked spine shuffled down the street with the aid of a walking cane, squinting at me with suspicious eyes as he passed my car. I was starting to wonder what the hell I was doing here myself. My bladder was protesting, the sun kept getting in my eyes, and the stench of rotting meat from a nearby rubbish bin was becoming more difficult to ignore. Surveillance isnt the entertaining sixty seconds of donuts and buddy banter that TV makes it out to be. At a quarter past ten, the drapes in Duongs window opened. About bloody time. Duongs face appeared, frowned at the world, and then went away. I put my book down and waited. Twenty minutes later, the apartment door opened and Duong emerged wearing baggy cargo pants and a green shirt, his ponytail swinging as he moved. He came downstairs and the kid with the basketball passed him the ball. Duong winked at him, bounced the ball once, and fired it at the hoop without looking. It went in. For a guy like Duong Nguyen, it would always go in. He bumped fists with the kid and gave him a crooked grin; the kids face beamed with hero worship. The red Datsun swerved out onto the street, coughing bluish exhaust COLDER THAN BLOOD 68 ED ROWE

and shuddering with the effort of staying in one piece. Heavy metal music blared from its sound system. I threw out an invisible towline and tried to follow at a discreet distance. It wasnt easy: Duong drove badly and at a reckless pace. At one intersection, he gunned a set of orange lights and I had to risk death, injury, and a traffic fine to keep on his tail. Even from three car lengths back, I could hear the pounding bass roaring from his speakers. He was beating a cigarette drumstick against his window frame, tapping out ash in time with the music. I soon realised where we were headed. Shortly after we hit Mount Waverly, Duong swerved off the main road and into a residential street. By sheer coincidence, so did I. After another two coincidental turns, I watched him pull into Crystals driveway and honk his horn. I drove past, made a casual turn into the next street, and then quickly U-turned and edged my car forward until I could see the house. The Mainwaring residence was a handsome two-storey house built in the English Tudor style. The gabled roof was pitched at a steep angle, with small, crosshatched windows peering myopically out at the world. Ivy had been encouraged to climb the walls and the twining leaves had been kept meticulously trimmed. It was a pleasant enough uppermiddle-class status symbol, but somehow it lacked the honest humanity of Tesss rundown cottage. I felt the ache of her loss more than ever. After a couple of minutes, Crystal came out of the house and slid into Duongs car. She wore a snug white dress that made her look virginal and her slim waist was custom-built for a mans arm. They kissed. His hand found her breast and squeezed. Lucky bastard, I thought. Duong reversed out of the driveway, spun the wheels, and headed back towards the main road. I waited until they were out of sight around the first corner before taking off after them. I let them get settled on the main road before closing the gap. I didnt think theyd spot me unless I made an obvious blunder, but Crystal knew my face so I put on a pair of sunglasses as a rudimentary disguise. Duong drove even more poorly than before, as if he were showing off for his girl. His car continued to belch exhaust and the tyres looked bald enough to light a match on. He revved the engine whenever he could, swerved in and out of lanes to overtake, and kept drifting to the left as if his attention was focused more on the passenger seat than on the road. I followed them onto the Monash freeway and dropped the tail COLDER THAN BLOOD 69 ED ROWE

back a notch. When Duong took a last-second exit, I followed suit like the Jack of Spades. We drifted through Malvern, one of those posh suburbs where they have by-laws about picking up what your dog drops. Duongs car suddenly veered off into a tree-lined street and disappeared over the crest of a hill. Id been hanging back to give them room to breathe, but when I topped the crest a few moments later, they were nowhere in sight. Damn! Had I left it too late? Had Duong spotted me and peeled off a few sharp corners to shake the tail? I squinted at the road ahead, trying to see which turn they might have taken, but there were too many possibilities. I glided past the first couple of streets anyway, craning my neck and seeing nothing. Damn it! With every passing second, Duong and Crystal were speeding further and further down Lost Tail Boulevard. Sometimes luck comes to those who seek it. Thats when we call it skill or intuition. Successful stockbrokers dont really predict the future. All they do is stir thousands of figures and statistics in the cauldron of their minds until theyve boiled everything down to a hunch. The lucky ones play their hunches wisely and turn a profit; the rest embezzle funds, trade insider secrets, and come out even better. I dont consider myself a lucky man. The only gut feelings I get are the ones that require antacid. But Ill admit that it was luck that made me turn my head just in time to glimpse a flicker of brake lights at the end of a long driveway. I reversed back to the spot, squinted down the driveway, and did a double-take. Maybe even a triple-take. It was the Datsun. A high stone wall enclosed the property, the driveway stretching back from a formidable iron gate. Pine trees were stationed in twin sentry columns along the length of the drive. Broken glass had been concreted on top of the wall to deter intruders. The main house was set nearly thirty metres back from the road, an enormous three-storey mansion swollen with uncounted rooms and wealth. I had made it to Richville. If I wanted to stay here though, it was going to take more than just the dole and recycled beer can refunds. I nudged my car forward for a better look. I saw an active fountain at the end of the driveway, the centrepiece of a wide turning circle, with five cars parked along the curve. None of the cars had millionaire written on them. I made out a muddy Falcon ute and an old Mazda with a prang dent along one side. No brown van. Crystal got out of the COLDER THAN BLOOD 70 ED ROWE

Datsun and smoothed down her dress. She leaned in through Duongs open window for one last kiss, gave him a girlish goodbye wave, and hurried into the house without knocking. A few seconds later, Duong glided his car around the turning circle and started heading back towards me. I had a tough choice to make. Follow Duong and try to learn more about what made him tick? Or investigate Crystals connection with this place? I figured that since Duong had chauffeured her here, hed probably be coming back later to retrieve her. I flipped a mental coin and made my decision: I switched off my engine, averted my face as he drove past, and let him go. The Datsun grumbled off out of sight, leaving behind a noxious fart of exhaust. After hed gone, the neighbourhood seemed unnaturally quiet. I could almost hear the crackle of cheques being signed. No noisy kids at play, no rasp of lawnmowers, no uncouth lower-class riffraff talking about the football. Even the dogs had been paid not to bark. I wandered over to the gate. The sturdy iron wings were on an automated swing mechanism that could be controlled from the house, but for now they stayed open. A label next to the intercom button read Alistair Hoffman. Nobody seemed to be watching, so I ducked through the gate and hid behind a tree. Dried leaves crumbled under my feet as I slipped from tree to tree, sneaking closer to the house. I hoped there were no guard dogs patrolling the grounds. I worked my way over to the tree closest to the building. The mansion loomed majestically above me: high sandstone pillars, rendered cream walls, and plenty of ornate cornicing that wouldnt have looked out of place on a historic European cathedral. I crept along until I had a good view through an enormous bay window on the ground floor. Inside the room, I counted ten people sitting around an expensive, highly polished conference table. They were mostly young girls in their teens and early twenties, with a few guys making up the balance. I moved as close as I dared without leaving the sanctuary of the trees. Crystal sat with her back to the window. She was staring raptly at an older man standing at the head of the table. The others in the room were also gazing at him with similar adoring expressions. Alistair Hoffman, king of the castle, no doubt. He had thinning, well-groomed brown hair and a neatly clipped salt-and-pepper beard. I figured him to be in his late forties. He gestured with his hands COLDER THAN BLOOD 71 ED ROWE

as he spoke, and his body language conveyed authority and charisma. Id seen his type before. The honest-Joe salesman with a hot deal just for you; the enthusiastic investment broker ready to put your money to work; the caring politician who wants to represent your interests amidst all those sharks in government. All you have to do is give up a little of that magic word: trust. I wondered what sort of scam this guy was operating. With a pad like this, it had to be a profitable one. Show me a rich, persuasive salesman, and Ill show you a crook with a thousand ripped-off former customers baying for his blood. It all stopped being suspicious, however, when one of the girls picked up a book from the table. I couldnt read the title, but the cross on the cover was visible enough. I started to get the awful feeling that Id just followed Duong and Crystal halfway across town to spy on a bible-reading class. Dont ask me how I knew. Maybe it was one of those lucky hunches. I cursed under my breath all the way back to the car. I wasnt going to sneak around and watch a bunch of Christians spend all day phoning God and getting the line busy tone. I regretted not following Duong instead. If Crystal wanted to get all juiced up with the glory of Jesus and fawn over Reverend Alistair Pass-The-Collection-Plate Hoffman, who was no doubt so wonderful that he had Jesus over for coffee and scones every Sunday, then to hell with her. To hell with all of them. I felt foolish and cranky. It was midday. Not the proper time for a drink, but then, it never is. I wanted to forget about Duong and Crystal and Tess and the whole damned case, forget about the appalling surveillance effort Id turned in today, forget that I was nothing but an unemployed bum with no prospects and a pile of rejection letters. Forget about everything except how to lift the glass to my lips and deepen the amnesia. I drove towards the city and the promise of amber oblivion. I started at Young and Jacksons, the most well known seedy pub in Melbourne. Ordered a double whisky. It went down like a healing potion. I bought a toasted ham and cheese sandwich and wolfed it down in three bites. My seat was near the door, and I watched people swarm in and out of Flinders Street station. Office girls strutting their wares, mums with prams, couples huddled close and laughing at private love jokes. I wondered what a girl like Crystal could possibly see in a creep like Duong, and then ordered another double whisky to make myself COLDER THAN BLOOD 72 ED ROWE

stop wondering. I could feel the old hunger clawing its way out of the grave at the bottom of my heart where Id thought Id buried it. I missed the tender strokes, the shine of bedroom eyes, those sleepy promises of forever. Outside on Swanston Street, a pretty girl bounced against her boyfriend like a magnet. I grimaced and turned back to my drink. Their love wouldnt last. It never does. The only girl Id ever cared about had taught me that. Julie Evans had been my soul mate, my first love, and my downfall. Id met her at the office. She was a typist, I was a claims examiner, and together wed had our bright future all mapped out. Id had girlfriends before, plaything relationships that never lasted long, but with Julie, for the first time Id felt intrigued. Id wanted to know everything about her, to cherish all her quirks, learn all the tricks for making her smile. And for a year and a half, it had been good. But then Id gotten the boot from my job and landed in the dole queue, and suddenly I was no longer enough of a rising star for Julie Evans. Shed taken up with some bespectacled manager, puncturing my heart in the process. Months later, I still missed her, and a hardness had congealed around my feelings. I conjured up another whisky and made it disappear. The past haunts us far more dreadfully than a ghost clad in bed sheets ever could. My thoughts turned inwards, like barbed fishhooks, to the more recent pain of failing to save Tess. Failure seemed to be my middle name, and as a would-be detective, I was failing yet again. The case was dead and starting to decompose. What had seemed like a clever plan at the time had turned out to be a foolish waste of time. My expectations had been based on too many trashy TV cop shows in which the detective nails the bad guy within an hour, minus ad breaks. All Id managed to sniff out was the rancid scent of red herrings. I stopped looking at the happy couples on the street. I tried not to think about the case. I bought another double whisky and kept it company while it brooded about the unfairness of life in a shot glass. It was after midnight when I made it home. I staggered inside and bashed my hip on the corner of the desk. Great, I thought. Thatll bruise like a bastard in the morning, you clumsy oaf. I brushed the moss off my teeth and swallowed a handful of Vitamin B tablets to belatedly try to stave off the inevitable hangover. My eyes in the bathroom mirror looked like veined red grapes. There were several messages on my answering machine. The first COLDER THAN BLOOD 73 ED ROWE

was from Sensei Randall at the karate hall, wanting to know why I hadnt shown up to teach the novice class that evening. He didnt sound happy. My grandmother had also called, wanting to know when I was coming out to Geelong next. I felt a surge of guilt for not having visited her in over a month. After my parents were killed, Nanna had moved down to Melbourne and looked after me until I grew old enough to fend for myself. Id been a difficult handful for the old lady, bucking like an unbroken horse with rage and grief and teenage insolence. But Nannas patience, her warm heart, and large quantities of banana cake with passionfruit icing had tamed me. Shed returned to her own home in Geelong years ago, but she still worried about me. Nanna was all the family I had left, and I loved her more than anything. The third message was from Benny: Baboon. Change that stupid message, will you? You sound like the winner of an idiot contest. Har-de-har, I said to the machine. Anyway, fool, I trawled the net looking for those two names. Couldnt find zip on that Duong Nguyen bloke. The name Nguyen is the Vietnamese version of Smith, by the way, so there was never much chance of pinpointing anything there. Even a negative result was more than Id achieved today, and it had only cost Benny a few mouse clicks. My shoulders drooped and I felt more useless than ever. But as for Kurt Drucker, Benny continued, now that guy is one bad son of a bitch. I searched in the online newspaper archives and found half a dozen big juicy steaks for you to chew on. Hope youve got your nappy on, baboon, because you are going to shit yourself when you hear this My mouth went dry and my heart kicked into second gear. This could be the lead Id hoped for. The booze haze evaporated as I listened to Bennys voice. Druckers a high level drug dealer, a real-life Mr. Big. The law had him up on charges a couple of years ago, back when all those Melbourne underworld gangland killings were making headlines. Some smart-dick lawyer got him released on bail, and our man Drucker promptly got onboard the Fugitive Express. He hasnt been seen in public since, although the cops seem to think hes still in town. Jack, if youre pissing in this guys pond, be real careful. He hesitated, presumably doubleCOLDER THAN BLOOD 74 ED ROWE

checking his next insult for any embarrassing trace of sentiment. I dont want you croaking until youve paid off that bottle of Wild Turkey you owe me Ill put it in my will, I told the disembodied voice. Anyway, Ive printed out all the articles I found. Theres some gruesome stuff. One of the witnesses whod been scheduled to testify at the trial, an addict whod turned stoolie to deal down a possession rap, was murdered shortly after Drucker made bail. I heard Benny take in a deep breath of nicotine. The guy had been skinned alive. My legs felt wobbly and I had to clutch the desk to steady myself. Too much alcohol will do that, I told myself, not too convincingly. Anyway, peanut brain, Ill drop the printouts around tomorrow after I finish work, and well have a chat. Make sure you have my fee ready for me to drink, baboon, and dont forget to change that stupid message! Beep. I stopped the machine and tried to sift through these new facts. Could Drucker have been Tesss drug connection? Maybe shed stiffed him on a payment, or threatened to expose his whereabouts, and hed killed her. It was a promising theory, but I didnt want to leap onto the hasty-conclusion bandwagon. Assumptions are the holes through which the truth can be lost. I needed to find out more before I could act, but at least now I had another lead to investigate. I pressed the button to go to the next message. Hi Jack, its Crystal. Great, I thought, my favourite Jesus freak. I just wanted to say Im sorry if I acted weird yesterday. I was, like, still pretty shaken up about Tess, so I wasnt really myself, you know? Anyway, I called to tell you that I still want to help. Can you meet me at the pub opposite the Swinburne library say around two thirty after my lecture? Maybe we can, you know, help each other out? Her voice lilted with ambiguous meaning on the last sentence. See you tomorrow, I hope! I still felt sulky for having wasted time following Crystal to her bible-thumping party. I had half a mind to say to hell with her and stand her up, but that might have just been the drunken half of my mind talking. I decided to wait and see how I felt in the morning. Maybe it would be worth going just to spring what Id learned about Duong on her, and watch the shock scuff up her pretty face. There was one more COLDER THAN BLOOD 75 ED ROWE

message. I pressed the button to play it. A raspy voice said: Just remember that Im watching you, buddy. Like the song says: every move you make, every breath you take, Ill be bloody well watching you, you mouthy punk. And when you slip, Ill be there to nail your arse to the wall, you follow? Youll be the sorriest dog in the pound, buddy. Beep.

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Chapter Nine
t half past two the following afternoon, I found a table near the window and sat there drinking an overpriced beer and watching the rain outside. The place had been renovated since Id last blown through here on a pub-crawl several years ago. But the beer still tasted watered down, the students still drank it, and the cynical bartenders still carded anyone who didnt have a full beard. The pub was quiet at this time of day, the calm before the five p.m. storm. Two uni students were engaged in serious battle at one of the pool tables. Three girls and a guy with a runny nose sat huddled around a table strewn with notepads, arguing about a group assignment. Across the room, a trio of inflated male egos stood at the bar boasting about easy lays. I was the only person drinking alone. I tried to convince my pot of beer that it was beautiful by lavishing it with small, regular kisses. Two more rain-soaked students entered, flooding the doorway with cold air. Crystal had come prepared with a woollen jumper and a raincoat. Her companion, however, looked wet, angry, and ready to punch out Mother Nature. I groaned inwardly. Either that scowl was Duongs regular expression, or his mother hadnt warned him not to pull faces in case the wind changed. Crystal smiled. Hi Jack. Whats with the bodyguard? This is my boyfriend, Duong, she said, patting his wet shoulder. Duong, this is Jack Marsh, the detective I told you about. Duong bared his teeth in what probably passed as a smile for him and extended a hand without much enthusiasm. You not look like detective. I shook his hand and straight away he tried to pulp mine. He was strong, but I knew that game too, and I let him have a bonecrusher. His scowl deepened and he rubbed his sore hand through his hair and put it away in his pocket as a fist. Sit down, I said. They sat in front of me. I noticed that they didnt touch each other or lean close the way affectionate couples do. The novelty had probably worn off. Crystal was watching me expectantly. I took a sip of beer and smacked my lips a few times. Alright, Im here. What have you got? COLDER THAN BLOOD 77 ED ROWE

Crystal looked puzzled. I dont understand. You called me, I said. I take it you have some new information to share. She flushed. Oh. No, I dont have anything new. I just wanted to, like, see how you were going. With the investigation, I mean. Thats all. I glared at her. Then youve wasted my time. Time that I could have spent investigating other leads while they were still hot. I shot Duong a glare as well, so he wouldnt feel left out. I just thought that if you, like, shared what youve found out so far, we might Look, Crystal, I said, I dont have the time or the patience for this. I used up all of my patience on a certain wild goose chase yesterday, and as a result, I dont have any left to waste on you. Duong gripped the edge of the table. Watch yourself, Marsh. I not like your attitude. His eyes were smouldering black embers. So what? Im not running for office. I gave them both a hard look. If you havent told me something useful by the time I finish this beer, Im leaving. I drank all but an inch from the glass and sat back in my chair. We just want to help, Crystal said. Please tell us how we can help. Her lips pushed out at me in a sultry pout. A lot of men would have buckled at the knees under that pout. She was a princess girlfriend, the sort of girl who loves to test the limits of a mans backbone, but soon grows bored of him if he lets her. I went ahead and drained the beer anyway. Thats it, the tide is out. I dont need your help. I stood, made a show of reaching for my jacket, and played my trump card: Besides, the last time I spoke to you, all you gave me was lies. Wait, Crystal said. What do you mean, lies? I told you the truth! I snorted. Did you think I wouldnt find out that Tess used to date Duong? And that he dumped her to play happy families with you, her so-called best friend? How did you find that out? she blurted. I read your horoscopes and deduced it. Crystal tried to recover. Im sorry, Jack, I didnt mean to lie, I just didnt think it was important enough to mention, thats all. I mean, COLDER THAN BLOOD 78 ED ROWE

hello? This happened, like, months ago. We were all so over it long before Tess got killed, you know? I hear you saying it. Duong was leaning back with his arms folded and a smug expression on his pan that seemed to say, See, I get all the hot chicks. It annoyed me, so I switched to him and said, I also know you hit Tess at The Green Triangle, you woman-beating scum. The smug look fell away and the scowl returned. I never hit Tess, he said through his teeth. A vein pulsed in his temple. She was stoned that night, and you slapped her silly. Remember? If you dont, there are witnesses who do. They liars. Crystal touched Duongs arm, but he wouldnt look at her, he was too intent on spearing holes in me with his eyes. Honey, she said, shaking his arm, you have to tell him everything, no matter how painful it is. We both know you didnt hurt Tess, but Jack doesnt know you the way I do. You need to, like, stay calm and explain What business is it of this fool to know my personal affair? he snapped. Please, Duong! She pulled his face around and kissed him. For Tess, honey. Do it for Tess. His jaw tightened and he winced. For a moment, his eyes softened as he allowed Crystal to soothe him. Then he turned to me, the hardness back, and nodded curtly. Okay, I tell you, he said, putting enough grudge into his tone to let me know he was still tough. Tess promised no more drugs. I stand by her and help her get clean. Then she go and shoot up again and I get mad. He raised his chin defiantly. Just because I lose temper one time, does not make me woman-beater. Uh huh, I said. Tess was never happy girl, he said. She have no mind of her own, no no He looked to Crystal for help. Independence, honey. Independence, yes. She have no independence of herself. She want attention all the time, drugs to get rid of unhappy mood. He scowled at some unpleasant memory. She too clingy, too much problems. Thats why I dump her and take Crystal. Im a low maintenance kind of girl, Crystal put in, smiling. Alright, Im listening, I said. I returned to my chair and faced COLDER THAN BLOOD 79 ED ROWE

them. So youre telling me Tess was a junkie. Whats the punch line? What you mean? Duong asked. Who killed her? I wish I know. He stared at me sullenly. I would kill him myself, he said, enunciating every word. He slung a proprietary arm around Crystals shoulders, the macho, protective boyfriend, and curled his lip at me. Would you now? I mirrored his sneer right back at him. Stab him with that cowardly little flick-knife of yours, would you? Duong jumped to his feet. You watch what you say to me, man! Or what? Youll slash my ear like you did to that bloke at the pool hall? Surprise flickered across his face. I said, Yeah, thats right, I know all about you, you gutless wonder. Maybe you should hand over that knife before you cut yourself with it. I paused for effect. Maybe its the same knife that killed Tess. He wavered there, caught between rage and confusion. I watched his hands, my legs crouched and ready under the table. I mentally planned exactly which moves I would make if he went for his blade. Well? I prompted. Crystal tugged at his arm. Please, honey. Sit down. Her face had paled. Duong pulled free from her and jabbed a finger at me. I did not kill Tess. Convince me, I said. You think I guilty just because I Vietnamese, dont you? You think you better than me, dont you? I You hate me, dont you? You think I just a gook, dont you? His forehead was furrowed with anger. He was working himself up into a rage without any need for me to poke him. Crystal looked worried, but not shocked; he probably did this often. Youre right, I said in a low voice, I dont like you. But its not because of where you came from or the colour of your skin. Its because youre a violent son of a bitch whod rather fight than talk. I gestured at his chair. Now why dont you sit the hell down, cool the hell off, and help me find a killer. We stared at each other. His cheekbones bulged, his eyes narrow slivers of charcoal. Finally, he said, So what you dont like me? I not COLDER THAN BLOOD 80 ED ROWE

running for office. I had to laugh at that. Duong smiled for the first time; it brightened his face like the end of an eclipse. He barked out a short laugh and returned to his seat. Crystal didnt seem to get the joke, but she smiled and relaxed as well. So now? Duong asked. It took me a moment to remember the topic. Do you know where Tess got the drugs? Or who gave them to her? He shook his head. I never ask her. More important was to get her clean and stand on her own two foots. He watched me carefully, his temper under control now but still simmering on the hotplate. I try. But I not able to help her. Okay, I said. Did you ever see her talking to anyone suspiciouslooking? Doing any dodgy deals? He massaged his temples for a few seconds, thinking. I see her talk a few time to skinny Aussie guy, he said. I think he student here. He look like sneaky bastard. I see Tess give him money one time but I not see any drugs. You reckon he might have been her drug dealer? Could be. He have crazy look in his eye. Wear all black clothes. Crystal said, Oh, that guy. You mean Needles? What? I said. She sounded excited. Ive seen the guy Duongs talking about, everyone calls him Needles. I dont know his real name, he might not have one for all I know, but Ive, like, seen him hanging around campus enough times. He dresses sort of Goth, looks like a total freak. Why do they call him Needles? Well, duh, she said, and mimed injecting a syringe into a vein. At least, thats what I heard, that hes the one to go to. She smiled sweetly at Duong. Honey, you never told me anything about this. Duongs face darkened. Drugs are bad thing. You good girl, Crystal, I want you keep away from drugs and sneaky bastard. I dont want you get hurt like Tess. Dont worry, honey. Ill be a good girl. Her tone was simultaneously innocent and naughty, but Duong didnt pick up on it. I wondered what she was playing at, what subtle message she was trying to pass me beneath the radar of Duongs broken English. Have either of you, I asked, heard of a man named Kurt COLDER THAN BLOOD 81 ED ROWE

Drucker? Crystal shook her head. Duong, his habitual scowl beginning to settle back onto his face like dust, said, Who Kurt Drucker? So far, just a name. The cops claim they found his name in some of Tesss private papers. Hes a heavy-duty drug dealer. Could be associated with this Needles. Youve spoken to the cops? Crystal asked. Detectives Pearl and Gars, I said. Between them, theyve got as much charm as a fart in an elevator. Duong said, At least police officer in this country does not beat and kill person for no purpose. His fists were clenched, real pain in his voice. For once, I held back the wisecrack that sprang to mind. How about you tell us everything youve found out, Jack? Crystal said. We might make another connection. The corner of her mouth twitched as she said it. Was she flirting with me? Yeah, I said. Lets play Join The Dots. We have been patient, Marsh, Duong said. They had at that. Okay, then. Like I told Crystal, I think the man in the brown van killed Tess. She knew who he was and she was afraid of him. I looked pointedly at Duong. She told me the man had a knife. It was the wrong thing to say. You still think I kill her! He sprang out of his chair, his face boiling. Bastard! I never hurt Tess. I loved her! I never said you killed her. Only that you had the means. Theres a diff Not true! he screamed, and swung a punch. I rolled out of my chair, but hed surprised me, and his knuckles rapped my ear. I made it to my feet as he charged around the table. He grabbed my shirt collar and tried to knee me in the groin. I twisted my hips and caught it on the thigh. I knocked his hand away with a cross-body block and then smashed my fist into his solar plexus. Hot breath exploded out of him and he doubled over. Far off, somewhere in the world beyond instinct, I heard Crystal cry out for us to stop. Duongs face was contorted with hate, his breath rasping in and out. He straightened with effort and a switchblade appeared in his hand. Deadly steel flashed out and locked into place. I slit your belly, he said. I crouched in fighting stance, bouncing lightly on the balls of my COLDER THAN BLOOD 82 ED ROWE

feet. If he swung in an arc, I would sidestep, try to grab his arm and break it with a hammer chop. If he lunged at me, Id kick him off his feet and pray that I was fast enough to keep my leg from getting slashed. He held the knife correctly, thumb against the handle for precision, elbow tucked in close to his body. No easily avoided hook swings here. His would be the short, tidy thrusts of the experienced knife-fighter. I watched his eyes for the telltale signs of a strike. Around us, I heard shouts, screams, the bartender threatening to call the police. We stood frozen together for nearly a minute, two statues poised at the edge of a cliff, each waiting for the other to jump first. Then Duong smiled, a cold, ghastly grin with no humour in it. He pressed a button and the knife blade slid back into the handle with a snick. I not a killer, he said, his eyes like molten tar. He flicked his ponytail over his shoulder and stormed out of the pub, slamming the door as he went. I let out my breath. The tension ebbed out of my muscles, but the adrenaline crackle would take hours to fade. Crystal still sat there with her mouth open. I felt like reaching out and closing it for her. Get out! someone shouted. It was the bartender, waving his arms. Get out of here now before I call the cops! Somebody should, I said. Your watered-down beer is the real crime. Out on the street, there was no sign of Duong. Crystal appeared at my shoulder, hugging her raincoat around her shoulders. The rain trickling down her face made her look as if she were crying. Youre getting rained on, I said. Im a big girl. If you say so. I turned to leave, but she clutched my arm. Jack? What? Can I can we talk? About what? Shouldnt you be rushing off to soothe your psycho boyfriends ego? It came out sounding more abrupt than Id intended. Will you at least come and have coffee with me? Theres a place across the road. She squeezed my arm softly. I dont want you to hate me, Jack. The way she said my name settled it. We hurried across Glenferrie Road, dodging both cars and puddles, and took a table at the back of the COLDER THAN BLOOD 83 ED ROWE

coffee shop. I ordered two cappuccinos and sat facing Crystal. Her dark hair was plastered to her face with rain, but even wet she looked wonderful. Her pink cheeks glowed with female warmth and her eyes were bright and clear. A beautiful Siren of the rain, luring men to their demise. Im sorry about Duong, she said, once we were settled and shed peeled off her raincoat. Hes not usually that aggro, you know? Could have fooled me. Hes just upset about Tess, thats all. He did care about her, in his own way. She shrugged. Anyway its over now, and nobody got hurt, right? I grinned. Well, I think I bruised a knuckle... She slapped the back of my hand playfully. Oh, you! We smiled at each other, something building between us that I wasnt sure how to deal with. Our drinks arrived and I had trouble with the sugar spoon. Crystal closed her fingers around my wrist. My God, Jack! Youre shaking. It had crept up on me without my realising it, the dreaded panic attack I knew so well. I scalded my throat with hot coffee to flush away the memories surging up out of the past. The knife twisting in my stomach. My cheek slashed open and flapping. The helplessness and the horror. Heres something else to remember me by, Jacky boy Are you alright, Jack? Concern in her eyes. I shook my head. Gasped. Crystal stroked my forearm. Focus on her touch. Focus on the present. You can do it. Youre okay now. Focus. Jack? I had myself under control again; Id managed to dam the panic wave before it could flood me. This time. Im fine now. What happened? Delayed reaction. I gave her a lopsided smile. I dont like knives. Her eyes were apologetic. She rubbed her fingers up and down my wrist, soothing me without words until the demons of the past had been nailed back into their coffins where they belonged. I nodded towards the sugar spoon Id fumbled. Spoons on the other hand, well, I can usually deal with those. COLDER THAN BLOOD 84 ED ROWE

Crystal closed one eye in a half-wink. I like spoons too It broke the tension. We laughed together, the electric affinity between us swelling and blossoming. I turned my palm up and we joined hands. Her fingers felt warm and delicately feminine. You know, I really like your laugh, Jack. Duong hardly ever laughs. What are you doing with a short-fuse jerk like him anyway? Hes not always like that. He can be really sweet when its just the two of us. Hes just, like, overprotective at times, thats all. Do you love him? She shrugged. I dont know. What is love anyway? You cant just lock it away in a box and expect it to flower. Love should be free to take root wherever it can, a gift without boundaries. Thats one way of putting it. Our hands were still knotted together. Its what Jesus wanted for us. For people, I mean. Unconditional love. Unconditional doesnt mean uncontrollable, I said. She chewed her lip as she thought about that. Loves not some possession that stays still once youve found it, she said. Its a living, growing force of change that cant be contained. So even though I love Duong today, who can predict what new feelings tomorrow will bring, you know? And there I was thinking you two were as inseparable as a nut and a bolt. She gave me an amused grimace. Do you have to be so horribly crude? No, I said, kneading her fingers. But I am anyway. I think youre jealous, she said, teasing me with her eyes. Ill get over it in a couple of years. Crystal gently took her hand away and sipped her cappuccino. So do you have a girl, Jack? Anyone special in your life? Who needs special? It never lasts, and then youre left holding a broken heart. So cynical! Maybe you just havent met the right girl yet. Maybe. I missed the warmth of her touch already. So Duong isnt the right guy for you then? Oh, I dont know. Im young, Im free, Im so not ready for any COLDER THAN BLOOD 85 ED ROWE

sort of together forever thing right now. I know Duong wants to get more serious, but, like, hello? Im still in my party years, you know? Sure. Thats all God wants for us, Jack. He wants us to have fun and enjoy the life He gave us. Being a Christian isnt as boring as you might think. I take it Duong doesnt go in for the hallelujah crowd then? She shook her head. Ive asked him to come to church with me enough times, but hes so not interested. I think hes afraid to open up his heart because there might not be, like, enough room for both me and Jesus in there. She giggled at the thought. Sounds like you two dont have a whole lot in common. Well, for now I love Duong and we have fun together, thats all that matters. She brushed some wet hair aside and gave me a smile full of dimples. He tries so hard to please me, its really sweet. He makes me feel like a queen. I have to love him for that, right? Until the day you dump him like a bag of garbage. Crystal smiled saucily. Come on Jack, love isnt about chaining up our emotions with manacles of commitment. I mean, hello? Thats the sort of repressed thinking our grandparents got so hung up on. Jesus taught us to love others as we love ourselves, and to share that love freely. We should be expressing our feelings openly, not locking them away where they cant do anybody any good. I wondered how Duong felt about Crystals free-spirited ideas. She was a Siren alright, playing chicken with peoples feelings in the name of free love. I almost felt sorry for Duong. There was an amoral, teasing dangerousness about her that both appalled and excited me. Being close to Crystal Mainwaring would be very much like skating along the edge of a cliff. I took a slug of coffee that stripped the lining from the back of my throat. But it felt good, carrying warmth all the way down to my frozen toes. Crystal watched me with a curious expression, as if trying to divine my thoughts. Youre a bulldog, Jack, she said. Her lips were full and slightly parted. I can sense that about you. Once you get hold of something you want, you wont let go until youve got it all. Is that right? Her pupils were wide, welcoming. Its true though, isnt it? Once COLDER THAN BLOOD 86 ED ROWE

youve decided you want something, nobody can stop you from taking it. Plenty of people try. Not me, she said, and moistened her lips. I leaned across the table and kissed her. I stroked her damp, beautiful hair. Her mouth was passionate and hungry; she knew how to kiss. Then suddenly she broke it off and sat back, blushing and out of breath. Im sorry, she said. I shouldnt have let you do that. Duong Forget about him. I was tingling all over. I wanted more. She touched a finger to her lips. Duong would never do anything spontaneous like that. He says that too much affection in public is, like, a disgrace. Dont worry about it, I said. Im the bulldog, remember. I get what I want. We locked eyes over that for a long moment, our gazes meeting in the middle somewhere and negotiating a silent understanding. I didnt reach out again and neither did she. We were back on that awkward, indecisive knife-edge of potential. So what happens now? she asked. Her cheeks were flushed with pink. I loaded the tough back into my tone. Now I keep investigating. I need to find out more about this Needles punk. That freak? Do you think he was involved in Tesss murder? Could be. Ill need your help to identify him. When? Some time soon. Call me when youre ready to wander around the zoo and stare at the animals. What if I dont have time? She raised an eyebrow and smiled. Call me anyway, I said. I gulped down the last of my coffee. What are you going to do about Duong? She chewed on that for a minute. I thought she was about to come out with an answer, but then she bit it back and chewed on it for a while longer. Finally, she said, I dont know, Jack. Ive got a lot of things to think about, you know? Okay, you do that, I said. Think happy thoughts. We said our farewells polite, no goodbye kiss and I went out into the rain and jogged back to my car. I had to drive with my nose close to COLDER THAN BLOOD 87 ED ROWE

the windscreen to see through the downpour. I had learned a few new things about Tess today, but I wanted a second opinion. Duong and Crystal werent exactly the king and queen of trustworthiness. Emotions whirled around in my head, colliding with any rational thoughts they encountered, leaving me feeling giddy and out of control. I knew that Crystal was trouble. Anything we built would inevitably crumble. But I wanted her more than any woman Id met in a long time. None of the girls Id dated since breaking up with Julie had excited me the way Crystal did now. She was a peculiar mix of vixen and virgin, both confident and uncertain at the same time, and I wanted her. I wasnt sure why. Maybe it was just the forbidden fruit factor. Or maybe I really was that bulldog who wouldnt say die.

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Chapter Ten
drove out to Templestowe and parked across from the Hinley house. The thick curtains in the front windows were still closed, but this time a battered old Ford cowered in the driveway, its rear fender held in place with electrical tape, a Please Wash Me slogan scrawled in the dirt on the back window. The rain was gradually eroding the words; I wondered if Tess had written them there. The Hinleys old dog lay on the veranda, licking its sparse wet fur without much enthusiasm. It raised its head as I hurried up out of the rain, a growl idling at the back of its throat. I held out my hand for it to sniff and it broke into a panting, tongue-lolling grin. I scratched the dog behind the ear and its back leg beat a tattoo against the boards. Hey, old battler, I said. Good to see you again. I knocked. Waited. Ran a hand through my hair. Id never been good at dealing with other peoples grief. Footsteps clumped on the other side of the door. I tried to think of what to say. The door opened. Yeah? Marcus Hinley? Thats right. What do you want? Tesss father stood there sizing me up. A great bull of a man, his shoulders almost touched the sides of the doorway. He wore faded khaki workpants and a white shirt buttoned crookedly. The recent tragedy showed in his reddened eyes and in the liquor on his breath. His hair was powdering to grey and his callused bakers hands had rolled a lot of dough. He scowled at me, waiting for an answer. My names Jack Marsh, I said. Id like to talk to you about your daughter. Would you now? His nostrils flared, making him look even more like an enraged bull. Wouldnt have anything to do with that goddamned reward, would it? Mr. Hinley Youre the third greedy bastard to come sniffing around here trying to get your grubby paws on that money. Ive a good mind to grab you by the balls and Mr. Hinley, I said. Im not here about any reward. I need your help. COLDER THAN BLOOD 89 ED ROWE

My help? What the hell for? Im trying to nail the killer, and I need So you can get your bloody reward, right? I knew it! No, you dont understand, I said. This wasnt going well. I dont care about the reward. Im doing this for Tess. He narrowed his eyes at me. You knew Tess? Only briefly. But Im going to find the bastard who killed her, and the only reward I care about is the one my fist is going to smash into his face. Who the hell are you? Hinley asked. Tess never mentioned you. I was the last person to see her alive, I said. Aside from the killer, that is. I His face darkened. You what? Didnt the cops tell you? About the car chase when Tess got grabbed? The what? His fists curled into rocks. Some bug had bitten him where it hurt and he was dead set on a squashing. It didnt have to be the same bug. I took a breath. Mr. Hinley, how much have the police told you about what happened to your daughter? Obviously not bloody enough! Why dont we go inside? Ill tell you everything Ive learned. I shifted my body weight to help the suggestion along. Hinley blocked the doorway with a massive shoulder. The hell you will! Ill not have you upsetting my wife with false hopes and lies. His neck muscles bulged. Youll do your talking right here on the porch, you rat bastard! He was firing up for a fight; he couldnt get his hands on the unknown killer, but he could sure as hell lash out at me. Say the right thing, I told myself. Dont get into a brawl with a grieving father. Calm down, Mr. Hinley, I said. Youre obviously in no shape for rational He swung one of those meaty fists. My arm automatically flew up to block it, but not quickly enough, and the punch caught me flush on the chin. I crashed down hard on the veranda, jarring every bone in my body. The dog yelped with alarm, its claws clattering on the wooden boards as it fled out into the rain. I rolled onto my back and saw Hinley standing over me, his fists pulsing. But the look on his face was one of COLDER THAN BLOOD 90 ED ROWE

concern. I didnt mean to do that, he said. I ran my tongue over my lower teeth, all of which were thankfully still accounted for. I know, I said. But Ill bet it made you feel better. Down here at knockout level, the aroma of wet dog was strong. Hinley stared at me for a moment, then held out his hand. I grasped it and he hauled me up without apparent effort. You take a good punch, he said. You throw a good punch. I havent been myself since Tess died. Its been its been bloody hard. He set his jaw resolutely. You might as well come in. Well have a beer and start over. The lounge was home to a few tattered sofa chairs and a low coffee table littered with tabloid magazines. The room smelled of potpourri and dust. Hinley went off to fetch the beer while I worked my jaw from side to side to reduce the ache. I overheard him talking to his wife in the kitchen, telling her not to worry. He came back with two cans of Fosters. I took a swig and let the cold beer numb my pain. Okay, he said. Tell me what you know about my daughters murder. I told him about the brown van, the chase, my decision to hunt for the killer myself. I studied his reactions as I talked, but soon dismissed any idea of him being involved: his grief and rage were too clearly genuine. He leaned forward on the edge of his chair, listening intently, his deep brows knitting with concentration. When Id finished, he said, So youre saying you tried to help my Tess? Tried to. I met his eyes, although it wasnt easy. And failed. Hinley took a hefty swallow of beer. He nodded slowly. Im probably being a fool. Lord knows I shouldnt trust you, but I do. Thanks. Ive been sitting here tearing my hair out for days, trying to make some bloody sense of all this, and you know what? You know whats the worst thing? Whats that? Not being able to do anything. His large pancake hands looked capable of crushing coconuts. If I knew how to find the killer, then Id take care of it myself, and God help the bastard then. But no, Ive got to COLDER THAN BLOOD 91 ED ROWE

sit here and wait for the bloody cops to stop twiddling their dicks, and all the while that mongrels out there laughing his bloody head off. He gave me an appraising look. You think you can find him? Im not giving up until I do. Good. He cracked his knuckles, sat up straighter. Then lets get to work. Jack, wasnt it? Call me Marcus. What do you need me to do? Ive got a few questions, to start with. Go ahead. When was the last time you saw Tess? Im trying to get an idea of her movements that day. He shook his head. I start at the bakery at five a.m. every morning. Id not seen Tess since the night before. Does your wife know what time Tess left the house? Hannah reckons she left a tad after two p.m., for her Friday class. Tess usually catches the bus to Box Hill and then takes the train to school. He heard his own inadvertent use of the present tense and kicked his heel against the base of his chair. Damn it, I cant think straight anymore! Just bear with me, Mr. Hinley. Marcus. Look, Jack, I dont see how this is going to help us. Ive gone into all this with the police already, and we know how bloody useless theyve been. Its all helpful, Marcus. Helpful how? I wasnt too sure myself. Well, weve narrowed down the time of the snatch to between two oclock when she left here and three oclock when she dived into my car. So we know he must have grabbed her somewhere between here and the bus stop. You cant know that for sure. Youre guessing. Its a fair guess though. She never made it onto that bus. Public transport, lots of people around, he wouldnt have been able to get at her after that. No, Id bet he watched the house, waited for her to leave, and then made his move. The bastard, Hinley grunted. His beer can flexed and crackled in his fist. Do you know if Tess was afraid of anyone in particular? Never said anything to us, if she was. COLDER THAN BLOOD 92 ED ROWE

I took a hit of beer. My sore chin was starting to behave. How about a guy named Duong Nguyen? That Vietnamese bloke she went out with last year? He didnt sound pleased to hear the name. What about him? Are you saying he was involved? You tell me. Hinley drank some beer and made a face. Tess was on with him for a while. She brought him home a couple of times to meet Hannah and me. I didnt like him one bit. Could tell he was a bastard as soon as I set eyes on him. In what way? Bad influence. Keeping her out all night, getting her drunk, Lord knows what other shenanigans they got up to. His face darkened at the thought. She came home stumbling drunk one night and vomited on the carpet. He shrugged. But what could I say? Tess wasnt a little girl anymore, you cant coddle them forever. I wondered whether drugs had been the real cause of Tesss symptoms that night, rather than booze, but I decided not to mention it. Marcus Hinleys temper was already in pretty bad shape. He thumped his fist against his knee. I should have bloody well stepped in anyway! She was totally devoted to that mongrel and what did he do? Broke her heart and dumped her like a sack of grain. How did she take that? It racked her up for a while. She sulked in her room for days, crying and carrying on, her face as pale as cornflour. Wouldnt take phone calls, wouldnt see her friends, even gave up going to her church. He gave me a wry smile. I let Hannah deal with it. You know how women are. Let them have their girl talk and soak a few tissues and they usually settle down. Was there any trouble with Duong afterwards? Not that Im aware of. As I said, Tess carried on like a banshee for a few days after theyd split up, but once shed gotten all that teenage melodrama out of her system she seemed to perk up. He scratched his cheek. If he gave her any more grief after that, she didnt say, and I wasnt game to ask. I was just happy to see the tail end of the bastard. Did she still have feelings for him? I wouldnt know. Shed still go into a sulk every now and then, so Id guess she wasnt completely over it. He took in some beer and COLDER THAN BLOOD 93 ED ROWE

sighed. I remember her brooding at dinner a couple of weeks ago, grouching about how miserable life was, and I thought bloody hell, not this again. She was carrying on about how nobody would ever love her again after all the things hed made her do. I told her thats not I lurched upright as if Id been plugged into the power grid and switched on. What? What? Hinley asked, his eyes expanding. Is it something? It could be, I said carefully. Was she referring to Duong? Well, no, she didnt say his name, but who the hell else could it be? He mashed his big hands together. Ill murder the bastard! I was reluctant to go along with rash assumptions. Tess had told me that the man chasing her had made her do terrible things, and that shed betrayed him, or hed believed she had. I remembered the way Duong had braced me with his flick-knife just a couple of hours ago. His anger had seemed pretty genuine then, but now I wasnt so sure. Maybe Tess knew things about the man who killed her, I suggested. Criminal acts hed committed, for instance, or some nasty personal secret. If she was upset about being jilted, she might have threatened to air his dirty undies in public. Hinley grunted, breathing hard. The veins in his temples throbbed. If it was Duong, I continued, that could explain why Ill break the bastard in half! Hinley rose from his chair brandishing fists like cannonballs. Where can I find him? Marcus Well? Are you with me or not? Sit down, Marcus, I said. We dont know anything for sure. I know that he chopped my daughter up like dog meat! Goddamn it, Marcus, calm down! My voice cut through his rage and silenced him. Weve got to use our heads, I said. When the time comes for action, then action well have. Im with you on that. But right now, we need more evidence. He said, Ive got all the evidence I need, but his fists had unravelled and become hands again. He didnt look convinced of anything. Look, Marcus, I want to thump whoever did this just as much as you do. But we cant let our impatience get the better of us. We have to do this thing right. COLDER THAN BLOOD 94 ED ROWE

Hinley slumped back in his chair. Youre right, he said. Listen to me carrying on like a madman bellowing for revenge. He rubbed at his eyes with both hands. Im a baker, not a bloody vigilante... Youre her father, I said. His shook his head bitterly. What sort of father would let such a thing happen to his little girl? I should have protected her somehow, thats what fathers are supposed to do. He squinted, trying to hide the sudden rush of tears. Ill kill the bloody bastard with my bare hands! I looked at him, at that poor man, and said softly, You cant do everything yourself, Marcus. Let me handle it. Ill make sure he gets whats coming to him. I have to, he said. Its all I have now. Anger is all I have left. Not all, I said. You have your wife. She needs you now, more than ever. His lips quivered. He stood, drained his beer, and pulped the can with his strong fingers. Im going for another beer, he said, voice wobbling. You want one? Thanks. He trudged off towards the kitchen. I was impatient to leave, but it would have been insensitive, and I still had a few questions to ask anyway. I leafed through one of the tabloids from the coffee table while I waited: celebrity scandals of the week, hot new fashion trends to max out the credit card on, a five step guide to better orgasms. Glamour and gossip, a banal artificial world far removed from the tragic realities of life. Hinley returned and handed me a can. His face was ruddy. He said, gruffly, Sorry it took a while. Beer fridge is outside in the shed. He returned to his chair without meeting my eyes. No worries, I said, pretending I hadnt noticed anything. I popped the tab on my beer and gulped down half the can. The rain outside was starting to ease up. Have you ever heard of a guy named Kurt Drucker? I asked. Hinley shook his head. Whos he? Just a name the cops threw at me. Hes a drug dealer apparently. Drugs? Whats that got to do with my Tess? He tried to scowl, but the anger that had sustained him was spent now, and he merely looked worn out. Are you suggesting, he said grimly, that my daughter was taking drugs? COLDER THAN BLOOD 95 ED ROWE

Uh, of course not. I doubted if Hinley could take any more shocks just now. The cops told me they found Druckers name in her papers. That would be Tesss diary, he explained. I let the police take it. Id not have felt right going through it myself. I can understand that. Anyway, my Tess would never have touched drugs, he said. Sure, shed have a wee too many drinks now and then, but we all do when were that age. He smiled and nodded to himself, a faraway gleam in his eyes. It was time to go; he was turning maudlin. Thanks for the beer, Marcus, I said, and stood. Id better get going. Youve been a great help. He was on his feet in a flash. His hand was firm and strong and knew what a mans shake was. Sure, Jack, sure. Anything else you need, you just holler. Youll let me know as soon as you find out anything, wont you? I will. His hand tightened on mine. And when its time to take action, youll call me? If I can. The dog had parked itself back on the veranda. It lifted its head to sniff my shoes as we came out. I scratched it behind the ear and it whined soulfully. Hinley walked me right out to the car. The dog followed at our heels, its bony shoulders hunched against the rain, peering up at me hopefully for one last rub. Hinley and I shook hands again. Youre a good man, Jack, he said. Im counting on you. I resented him a little for that. I didnt need any more responsibility heaped on me to solve the case. If I couldnt put things right this time, even the strongest whisky wouldnt wash away the constant reminder of failure. I sat at the wheel and watched Tesss father shuffle away through the rain. Halfway to the door, the hope Id loaned him drained away. His shoulders slumped and his broad back began to shake. His wife met him at the front door and held him, her pale, tight face staring accusingly at me over his shoulder. I drove away from that depressing place. I drove pretty fast.

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Chapter Eleven
fter talking with Marcus Hinley, it was almost time for my evening karate classes. I winged past a takeaway shop for a paper satchel full of grease and ate the few dollops of potato and fish embedded in it. A drive-through liquor store supplied me with two bottles of whisky for my medicinal stockpile and the Wild Turkey for Benny. I made it to the karate hall on time, with ten minutes to spare. I retrieved the sports bag containing my karate outfit and practice weapons from the boot of my car. My nunchakas two hard wooden batons joined by a short chain clinked as I hefted the bag. Id practised with them for years and could twirl them as impressively as any B-grade chop sockey star: always a popular party trick. The sports bag also stored a plastic sleeve containing six razor-sharp shurikens, popularly known as throwing stars. Theyd never been thrown at anything more formidable than the training corkboard though, and once, when Id been drunk, at the ceiling of my apartment. The weapons were illegal to carry on the street and would never be used outside of training, but they still gave me a boyish sense of self-assurance in knowing that I could defend myself with deadly force if I ever had to. Some people can juggle; I can fight. I know which party trick Id rather have in a sticky situation. The dojo was on the second floor above a video store and was crowded with the usual mix of novices and adepts. Rank in karate is indicated by the colour of the belt worn, although the colour scheme can vary between different organisations. Here there were seven other colours to progress through on the way from white belt to black belt, and this evening I was teaching the mid-level green/blue/purple class. Sensei Randall Clark, the owner of the dojo, would be holding the advanced class afterwards. I changed into my gi, which Id recently had dry-cleaned, and tied my brown belt around my waist. I took the students through the customary fifteen-minute warm-up session and then led them through several katas: graceful dance-like sequences designed to improve precision and control. I coaxed and cajoled and berated and commended. I froze them in place with sharp commands, corrected errant feet and sloppy punches, and then set them back in motion. I made them start over when their efforts faltered through fatigue, and nodded proudly when they found new reserves of COLDER THAN BLOOD 97 ED ROWE

enthusiasm. It was a productive class. The students looked happy and sweaty as they filed out to the changing room. Sensei Randall arrived and we discussed how each of the students had performed. He was a short, solid man in his late fifties, with a Friar Tuck halo of baldness and eyes that had seen everything and been amused by it all. He was Australian, but had received his training directly from the masters in Japan. I was glad to see him; his patient Zen nature always seemed to calm and inspire me. We went into the reception area to chat while we waited for the rest of the advanced class to show up. So, Jack, he said. It would seem that you were unable to drag yourself away from the bar long enough to attend to your students last night. Im sorry, Sensei, I said. Sensei is the karate term of respect for ones teacher. Shame on you, Jack. You left a room full of kids warming up for almost an hour before another tutor could get here. Well at least theyll be limber. He tried to look stern, but couldnt suppress a smile. One hundred push-ups, he ordered, and dont let it happen again. Osu, Sensei! I said, and dropped to the floor to begin my punishment. I guess it could have been worse, he mused as I grunted and strained. You might have shown up drunk and taught them how to headbutt the mirror. I wouldnt dare, I said between gasps. Those are advanced class secrets! The cheek of the boy, he said, chuckling. He planted his foot between my shoulder blades and added his weight to the scales. Make that two hundred push-ups. A couple of black belts arrived, bowing to Sensei Randall as they entered. They laughed when they saw me, and one of them joked that I must have been caught groping teenage girls in the junior class. I was too busy straining my muscles to retort. By the time Id served my sentence my arms were aching and my uniform was soaked with sweat. Sensei Randall removed his foot and helped me up. He looked impressed that Id managed the whole handicapped double century. The class began. Sensei Randall took us through several endurance COLDER THAN BLOOD 98 ED ROWE

and impact-handling exercises. We trained for a solid two hours, at the end of which Id had a thorough workout. My body was stiff and sore, but in a good way. It felt great to forget about the case for a while and just lose myself in the mindless bliss of exercise. Afterwards, once Id changed into my street clothes and helped Sensei Randall lock up the dojo, I stood outside in the car park, alone, staring up at the night sky. The concrete smelled of recent rain and the moon was very bright. I wondered if Tess was up there in heaven somewhere, looking down on me with disappointment. Why were you killed, Tess? If I could just figure out the motive then Id be closer to finding the killer. But then again, in this crazy violent society of ours where grandmothers are knocked into comas for their purses, where wives are routinely beaten for burning the toast, and where high school teachers get stabbed with ballpoint pens for not giving As, the reasons why one person hurts another are as many as the stars. The guy called me a name, your Honour, so I waited until he left the party and then I bashed his skull in. Simple, stupid, insignificant reasons. I might never find a meaningful answer, might never make sense of the senselessness. A billion trillion stars out there and not one of them could tell me why Tess had to die. I heard the pad of soft footsteps. Are you okay, Jack? Im fine, Sensei, I said. Just breathing in and breathing out. His scalp gleamed in the moonlight. You werent very focused tonight, Jack. Is everything alright? Ill be okay. Just got a few things on my mind. He chuckled. More likely its that cheap liquor you seem to favour. When are you going to take an old mans advice and start looking after your health? I gave him a smirk. Sensei, not all of us can stomach sunflower seeds and goat cheese for dinner. Sensei Randall was an avid health nut and knew dozens of nutritionally tasteless recipes. Understandable, he said. With the quantity of alcohol usually found in your stomach, Id be surprised if you could hold down a bar pretzel. Well, you can consider it an achievement that you got me into alfalfa sprouts. At least Im getting some vegetarian intake in between whiskies. He laughed then and I joined in. Our bantering about the perils of COLDER THAN BLOOD 99 ED ROWE

the demon drink was an old joke between us, grown grey and stooped with repetition, but he still found it funny and I didnt mind indulging him. A healthy body houses a healthy mind, Jack. And a focused mind is essential to solving ones problems. I know that, Sensei. But its going to take more than goat cheese and Buddhist philosophy to solve my problems this time. Sensei Randalls eyes were concerned and fatherly. I could tell he wanted to ask me what was wrong, but we were men and that was against the rules. Instead he said, Youve got a strong focus, Jack. You know how to use it when you apply yourself. Thanks, Sensei. He patted my arm. Go home. Have a good nights sleep and look after your health for once. Osu, Sensei. I drove with the window down, drawing the crisp night air into my lungs. Sensei Randall was right: Id lost my focus. Although I could no longer smell Tesss perfume inside the car, I still remembered the way shed felt in my arms, the taste of her on my lips. I still wanted to believe that she was my warm, vulnerable maiden, and I the brave knight sworn to avenge her. But shed told me herself that she had betrayed the dragon. That was what Id been having trouble focusing on. I hadnt wanted to muddy my memory of Tess by admitting that she might be anything less than pure. Id been assuming her innocence in whatever events had led to her death. But the truth, as illusion-shattering as it might be, was that Tess had been just as capable of hurtfulness as any of us. I needed to be more objective. If Tess had genuinely betrayed or tried to blackmail the killer, then that meant there was a serious motive out there for me to uncover. All I had to do was keep poking people in the ribs until I found the sore spot. I examined my reflection in the mirror. I was no Sherlock Holmes, but I would get my man eventually. Holmes might be able to turn a dropped peanut shell into a suave confrontation in the killers drawing room, but I didnt have an egghead like Sherlocks. What I needed was more information. I needed to focus and be patient. And most of all, I needed a cold beer, to wash away the cobwebs. Even a lukewarm beer would do. COLDER THAN BLOOD 100 ED ROWE

At home, there was a thick envelope in my mailbox with a message scrawled on the front. The message read: Dear Baboon, Went to all the effort of lugging this over only to find youd buggered off for the night, no doubt merrily screwing your latest canine girlfriend at the local dog kennels. Let me know if you need anything else, and dont forget my bourbon! Cheers, Benny. I took the envelope and my liquor store purchases inside and dumped everything on my desk. Went straight to the fridge and skolled a can of beer in one long swallow. My head was pounding when I finally paused for breath. After steaming myself wrinkly in the shower and slapping together a cheese and alfalfa sandwich for a late night snack, I was ready to tackle Bennys envelope. It contained a manila folder with about twenty pages of printed information. My newly restored focus would get a solid workout reading through that lot. I was tired, but it needed to be done. I skimmed through the file, looking for anything obvious. Benny had included a picture of Kurt Drucker from an online newspaper article, a grainy black-and-white headshot that showed a swarthy man with a bushy moustache. There was something unsettling about Druckers eyes, as if hed stolen them from somebody else and they didnt quite belong on his face. He looked vaguely foreign a hint of Arab, a dash of Italian, maybe a pinch of French and was most likely none of the above. Was this the face of the man in the brown van? His head shape seemed to be an approximate physical match, but I couldnt be sure. I stared at the cruel eyes, trying to divine their secrets, but the photo wasnt talking. Nobody can ever truly see inside another persons mind. We knock on each others doors, hoping to be invited in, but the best we can manage is partial glimpses through the keyhole. COLDER THAN BLOOD 101 ED ROWE

The beer had worn off and I was starting to feel edgy again. I tried to read through Bennys dossier in more detail, but I couldnt concentrate. Pessimistic thoughts kept jumping the queue. The harder I tried, the more stubborn my mental resistance became, until finally I thought: To hell with it. To hell with finding my focus and to hell with Sensei Randall. I uncapped a new bottle of whisky, poured myself a generous shot, and downed it. To hell with me too. I was nothing but an unemployed lout, trying to act like Philip Marlowe and instead turning in an Inspector Clouseau performance. I drank whisky until the ugly fire in my brain had been put out. Later, with most of the bottle in my belly, I decided to get some eye. My legs felt like stilts, but I made it to the bed okay. I dreamed of Tess. We were in the back of my car, making love, and her face was all slashed and gory. Her mouth opened to tell me something, but only blood and betrayal and vengeance came out. I woke, panting and sweaty, with Tesss screams ringing in my ears. Justice is almost as hard to find in the pillow world as it is in the waking one. The phone had woken me. It was still ringing. My back felt stiff, my head hurt, and nothing that the phone had to offer could possibly be more important than a day off. I got up anyway and answered the bloody thing. I cracked a kink out of my neck and grunted a hello into the receiver. Jack, are you there? she asked, and in the moment before the dream fuzziness cleared, I almost thought it was Tess speaking. You have to get over here, like, right away...

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Chapter Twelve

Crystal hadnt wanted to say over the phone what the big rush was, but her sense of urgency had galvanised me. Forty minutes later, wearing matted hair and yesterdays crumpled clothes, I jogged up to the university courtyard where she was supposed to be waiting for me. She wasnt there. I cursed and sat down to wait. The rumblings of a mild hangover kept echoing around inside my skull. Id have preferred another few hours in the kip, but I had to admit that I did want to see Crystal again. After twenty minutes of diminishing patience, an Indian girl with cute legs and a clipboard came over and asked me to participate in a political survey. I passed some time flirting with her while I filled it out. She giggled at my lame jokes and kept leaning in close to explain questions I didnt understand. When Id finished, she skipped off happily with the survey clutched to her chest like a medal. I chided myself for not asking for her phone number. Fifteen minutes after that, Crystal emerged from the library. She wore tight blue jeans and a smiley-face T-shirt with the smileys tongue poking out. She also wore Duong Nguyens arm around her waist like a chastity belt. So much for Jack the bulldog. Alright, Im here, I said. Whats so damned important that I had to get out of bed and race over here? Well look who ate a grouch for breakfast, Crystal said. Cant we all, like, be friendly with each other? Ive got enough friends. She waved it away. First off, I want you two to shake hands and make peace. Will you do that for me? Duong seemed to have cooled down since our last encounter, but he still gave me a wary scowl. I could feel my jaw hardening in response. Im allergic to peace, I said. Now what Crystal stamped her foot. I mean it, Jack! She looked like a sulky princess waiting for someone to remove the pea from under her mattress. Im so not telling you anything until you guys promise you wont get into any more fights. COLDER THAN BLOOD 103 ED ROWE

ve never understood women.

Yeah, Jack, Duong said. You make apologize to me or we not help you. He squeezed Crystals shoulder possessively. Your English needs work, Duong. Read a dictionary some time. He coloured. That predictable scowl creased his face. Ah, what the hell, I said, and stuck out my hand. A truce? After three grudging seconds, he shook my hand. His grip was firm and brief, as if this time he only had a small point to prove. Crystals eyes twinkled. Now that wasnt so hard, was it? Her voice was tinged with mischief and her lips looked more kissable than ever. I should be a politician. Now, what have you got for me? Ive seen him, she said. Him who? Well, hello? Our friendly neighbourhood dope fiend, remember? Drucker? I still felt a little groggy after my night on the booze. No, the other guy. Needles. Remember? She studied my face and grinned. Jeez, you look so hung over today, Jack. Occupational hazard, I said. So where is he? Somewhere in there. She gestured towards the Business and Arts building. He went inside a short while ago, but I dont know which room. If he had a class, he should still be in there. Well that narrows it down, I said dryly. The building was enormous. Oh, dont worry, she said. Everyone goes in and out through the front doors. Well, like, confront him when he comes out. No, I said. I dont want Needles to know youre involved. When he comes out, point him out to me discreetly and Ill tackle him by myself. Do you think he might be, like, dangerous? She shivered. Oh my God, what if he saw me watching him before? He might come after me! She clung to her boyfriend for support. I gouge his eyes out if he dare look at you, Duong said. He was staring at me as he said it; I figured he was trying to tell me something. Crystal kissed his cheek. Youre my hero, honey. Yeah, Duongs your personal King Arthur, I said. Im just the lowly knight Lancelot, glad to be of service. Crystal blushed; she knew what I meant. Duong stood there smirking, probably thinking Id complimented him. COLDER THAN BLOOD 104 ED ROWE

Anyway, I went on, if Needles is connected to Drucker, then things could get hairy. Kurt Drucker is one nasty individual. How nasty? she asked. I remembered what Benny had said about the skinned stoolie. Nasty, I told her. I want you two out of harms way, just in case. Let me handle the rough stuff. Okay. She wet her lips and added, Youre so brave, Jack. Duong didnt like that. Evidently he felt it was his job, and his job alone, to be brave in front of Crystal. His frown dug itself even deeper into its trench. Yeah, you big shot detective, he said. We just stiff scared students. He worked his jaw into a frigid smile. We point finger at drug dealer so you can go do tough guy thing while we hide like coward. I could have retorted with any of a dozen comebacks, but I let him score his point. I didnt need him any more offside than he already was. We settled in to wait. Crystal and Duong watched the doors of the Business and Arts building, their eyes scanning the steady flow of students for our target. Duong made sure that I knew Crystal was his girl: he clamped his arm around her shoulders and kept sneering at me as if he thought it would make me jealous. I kept acting nonchalant, as if he wasnt succeeding. After ten minutes of this, Crystal said, Oh, Jack, before I forget. Yeah? The Reverend wants to talk with you. Reverend Hoffman, from my church. Ive told him all about you. Only the bad stuff, I hope. What does he want from me? Hes pretty upset about what happened to Tess, and hes keen to help out in any way he can. Remember I told you that Tess introduced me to Jesus? Uh huh, I said. Popular fellow that Jesus. She nodded absently, her eyes gazing back into the past. I was so in need of saving, and then Tess took me to meet the Reverend, and Im not interested in being saved, Crystal, if thats what youre thinking. After the great stakeout fiasco, Id had enough of the Word to last me into the next life. No, no, she said. Reverend Hoffman just wants to help, you know? He used to practise law before he became a priest, so he might COLDER THAN BLOOD 105 ED ROWE

have some, you know, legal opinions that could be useful. He also knew Tess pretty well. Hmm, I said. So youll talk to him? I sighed wearily. I guess Id better. Crystal clapped her hands together. Great! Ill let him know to expect you, okay? I nodded and she gave me Hoffmans address. I didnt tell her that Id already been there. Youll love him, Im sure you will. Hes, like, such a special man. I remembered the high walls, the wooded driveway, the affluent mansion. Alistair Hoffman was special alright. My Nanna always told me I was special, I joked. And look how I turned out. She ignored it. When Im with Reverend Hoffman and the others, I feel so unconditionally loved. The Reverend says that only those who give their love freely in service of the Lord will be able to enter Heaven. Mmm. We went back to watching the student wildlife. I wasnt eager to talk to Hoffman, but what the hell, the guy might actually know something. Maybe Tess had spilled her personal problems in the confession box. Id gladly sit through an hour of sermons in exchange for some useful information. My brain started to hurt from boredom. I put it in neutral and went on waiting. Crystal still vigilantly watched the crowd, but Duong appeared to have lost interest. He lit a cigarette and made a point of blowing the smoke in my direction. After another half hour of nothing, I left them there and ducked over to the student cafeteria. I drowned a bag of hot chips in salt and vinegar and took my prize back to the courtyard. Those chips smell nice, Crystal said after a while. Thats because they are, I said, and kept eating. She didnt say it again. We moved to another bench to avoid the sun and waited some more. The cream of university life passed before my tired eyes: skinheads, booze hounds, mixed couples holding hands, the occasional nerd wearing a vest. I listened to a man on the bench next to us holding forth on the intricacies of Welsh dialect pronunciation. I watched students sneak through the library theft detector with books held overhead to beat the scanners. At one point, a tall guy in a suede suit who looked like a COLDER THAN BLOOD 106 ED ROWE

lecturer walked past and I smelled the distinct, pungent odour of marijuana trailing behind him. I was just about to nod off when Crystal sat up straight. There he is! Theres Needles! I followed her gaze and saw a young man slinking from the building. Needless face was pale, his stringy, unclean black hair reaching almost to his waist. He looked underfed, as if he took all his meals intravenously. Every stitch on him was black, even his socks. His black shirt was buttoned over a bulging Adams apple. He turned right and headed for the stairs to the street. I stood up to follow and Duong gestured goodbye with a loaded finger, smiling as he pulled the trigger. For the first time, I almost liked him. I aimed my own finger gun at him and fired a parting shot. I trailed Needles down the thin walkway that led to the Glenferrie train station, keeping my distance at about twenty paces behind. He didnt seem to be in any hurry. He hawked up a big gob of spit and washed the pavement with it. I moved closer as he entered the tunnel under the station, and followed him up the ramp to the platform. He coughed loudly, found another supply of saliva from some untapped reservoir, and tapped it. Charming fellow. The platform stank of diesel fuel, a foul rotten-orange odour. Needles stood in front of one of the yellow waiting benches and rocked back and forth on his heels. He discovered a cigarette in his pants, stuck it into his mouth with the practiced motions of an expert, and ignited it with a shiny gold lighter. He wasnt the guy from the brown van too thin, different hair but that didnt mean he wasnt involved. I rearranged my face and walked up to him. Hey, man, I said in a shaky voice that I hoped sounded like a fellow junkies. You got a smoke? He stared at me as if I were a blowfly hed found crawling on his food. He reluctantly produced a pack of Dunhill cigarettes. Here. I showed disappointment. Man, havent you got anything stronger? You know, something to get me high? I showed him my wallet. Im good for it. The cigarettes disappeared. Do I know you? he asked, squinting. Um, no. Well, theres your answer, he said, and turned away. Get lost. Cmon man, Im burning up! I figured that was the sort of thing a starving druggie might say. I heard you had quality stuff. COLDER THAN BLOOD 107 ED ROWE

You heard wrong. Now get out of my face! Cmon man! I whined. Good thing I wasnt trying to make a living as an actor; this audience looked far from clapping. Fuck off! he yelled, and stalked away up the platform. He went into the small public toilet at the end of the platform, his bony shoulders flexing angrily. I followed. He had a knife out when I came in after him. He stood with his back to the urinal, pointing the knife at me. The walls were painted puke green and the whole room smelled of stale piss. Do you have a mental problem? Needles said. He spat at my feet and missed. I dont have a problem, I told him, dropping the act. Its your problem, and its come looking for you. Get lost. He showed me the knife. I dont want to have to clean this again. Enough foreplay, Needles, I said. Who killed Tess Hinley? He almost covered his reaction in time, but I was watching for it. Jackpot. Never heard of her, he said. Now get out of my face while you still can. He waved the knife again, as if it were a magic wand that would make me disappear. I moved towards him. You know, and youll tell. He would have to take his wand back to the magic shop for repairs. Take another step, he said, his voice wavering, and itll be your last. I took another step. Im warning you, fool! Ill dice you so fine youll be confetti! I stepped forward again. The knife was within striking distance now. Needless forehead was shiny with sweat. He smelled rancid. Tell me who I aint telling you shit! He lunged with the knife. I dodged it easily, straight-armed him into the urinal. One of his black boots splashed in the murky water. Who killed her, Needles? Die, motherfucker! He lurched forward again, spearing the deadly blade towards my stomach. I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and plucked the knife from his strained fingers. Too easy. I shoved him into the urinal again. He crashed off the metal wall and went down with one hand in the trough. COLDER THAN BLOOD 108 ED ROWE

I tossed the knife so that it landed in the yellowy water. Lets try again, I said. Who killed Tess? Needles picked up the knife with slippery fingers. He was panting and red-faced. His shirtsleeve had slid up; I saw the purple web of usedup veins on his forearm. The next time you rush me, I said, Ill flush your head in the toilet bowl. After that I start breaking bones. Answer my questions and you might even make your train. He gave me a sly look. If I scream, he said, the station attendants will come running. He wiped the wet knife on his pants. If they hear you. I showed him a one-knuckle fist with the middle knuckle extended. Ever seen a crushed larynx? You wont be able to scream. Your body will try to vomit, but it wont have anywhere to go except straight into your lungs. Youll die choking on your screams. He swallowed hard. I held my breath. If he called my bluff now, Id have no choice but to let him go. The tension stretched out between us like the taut line in a contest between fisherman and shark. Alright, he said, lowering the knife. Alright, you motherfucker, Ill talk! Then talk. Needles spat on the floor. Shit, I didnt even know she was dead. What the fuck are you hassling me for? Youre lying. I towered over him. Maybe you killed her, Needles. He cringed. No, wait! I never touched her! But you sold her your filthy drugs, didnt you? No, I never Didnt you? Needless face went as pale as the white powder he peddled. I could feel the arteries throbbing in my neck. Right then, I must have looked pretty damn scary. Smack, he said. Mostly she bought smack. Discount rates too. Smack? Heroin, he explained. Couple of tabs of E occasionally, but mostly the smack. He looked startled. Hey, you aint vice, are you? Is that your angle? I raised my fist and he flinched. Im looking to break some heads, I said. Thats my fucking angle. COLDER THAN BLOOD 109 ED ROWE

No, wait, please! he said, raising his hands. I dont know who killed your friend. Honest! I hadnt even seen her for a couple of months. Figured she must have fallen out with He chewed off the end of the sentence. With who? Nobody. His face turned a shade paler. I took a gamble. With Kurt Drucker? He gaped. What are you hassling me for then, if you already know? For fun. Tell me about Drucker and Tess. Drucker brought her to me. Friend of his, he says. Take care of her if she needs a fix before class, he says. Discount rates too. Why the discount? A nasty leer flickered about Needless mouth. Why do you think? Drucker was probably screwing the bitch and wanted her kept all juiced up and bouncy. Waste of good smack, you ask me. But hey, when the big man farts, the workers lift their noses and smell the perfume. Id heard stories about junkies who traded sex for drugs. I hoped Needles was wrong, that Tess hadnt been one of those. The idea of her in bed with drug dealers sickened me. My fingernails dug into my palms. Did Drucker kill Tess? I asked. I dont know shit about that. Did he have any reason to kill her? Heres a reason, arsehole, Needles said, and held up his middle finger. He spat into the urinal for emphasis. I resisted an urge to reach out and snap the finger. Where can I find Drucker? Needles blinked. What are you, crazy? You do not want to take on Kurt Drucker. Hell skin you alive and make you eat it. Already heard that one. Now where is he? Fuck you. He was starting to get his courage back. It was time to take it away from him again. I showed him my killer knuckle. Remember the larynx? His face tried on several different emotions: loyalty, fear, calculation, shame. He spat again, but there was no longer any bravado in it. Druckers got dozens of dealers working for him. Why dont you COLDER THAN BLOOD 110 ED ROWE

go hassle one of them? Hell butcher me if he finds out I squealed. Maybe. If youve still got a throat left to squeal with. Needless shoulders drooped. I dont know where he lives. Im supposed to meet him tomorrow night at the usual drop, to pick up a new batch of product. I Keep squealing. When and where? His face looked haggard; Id wrung all the resistance out of him. Arcade parlour in St. Kilda. The Fun Palace. Eight oclock. If youre lying, I said in my darkest voice, Ill come back for you. Its the truth, I swear! It had better be. Also, if you warn him off and hes not there tomorrow, then Im going to be really pissed off. Understand? I held up my pointed fist again to help him with his understanding. Needless head bobbed. He ran a wet hand over his bulging Adams apple as if to reassure it that the knuckle was only kidding. If you go after Drucker, were both dead, he said. He looked like he was struggling not to cry. Is that right? You cant take Drucker. Hes too tough, and hes got bodyguards who are even tougher. Hell tie you to a chair and make you scream for hours. Hell butcher you, and then hell come after me! I dont think But Needles wasnt listening anymore. He turned his face away from me and stared sullenly at his hands. They were shaking. Youve killed me, man! Youve killed me, you stupid motherfucker! I left him there and drove home, feeling like the worlds worst bully. Karate is only supposed to be used for self-defence, not for intimidating people. I had dishonoured everything that Sensei Randall had taught me. I took a long shower when I got home, but I still felt dirtier than a fifth ace. There was a message blinking on my machine. Hi Jack, its Crystal. Im just calling to, like, find out how you went with that Needles wacko. Did you learn any more about Kurt Drucker? I guess youre not home yet, huh? Im so dying to know how it went. Anyway, when you get home, give me a call. Im at Duongs place. She recited her mobile number. See ya soon, my brave bulldog! I turned off the answering machine, leaving her message on the tape COLDER THAN BLOOD 111 ED ROWE

in case I felt like torturing myself with her sweet voice again tomorrow. I didnt need her brand of trouble. Crystal was an accomplished tease, and to her, I was just a Plan B flirtation to keep on the string in case her boyfriend didnt work out. I knew that game and I didnt like it. But the sound of her voice still made my heart thump faster anyway. Hell, I never could understand women.

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Chapter Thirteen
or dinner I had eggs on toast with Vegemite, washed down with whisky. I read through Bennys file in detail as I ate. My concentration engine was working just fine this time, and whenever it began to stall, the whisky came in handy as a kick-starter. Kurt Drucker had been due to stand trial for a drugs rap back at the time when the so-called gangland killings in Melbournes underworld had reached a peak, with new turf-war shootings making the news every few days. Drucker had gone into hiding the day after his lawyer posted bail, and now, almost two years later, he was still a fugitive. Being on the Most Wanted list didnt appear to have limited his activities however: he was suspected of involvement in several of the gangland hits. A tabloid had run the story of the skinned stoolie whod been set to give evidence at Druckers trial. The journalist had squeezed out every gruesome insinuation possible, his editorial making Drucker sound like a slobbering monster with fangs and barbed fingernails. After Id finished reading, I had a vague, unsettling feeling that Id missed some vital snippet of information that would tie the whole case together. I read through the file a second time, hoping that the tingle would coalesce into something more solid. Nothing. I settled for staring at the black-and-white photo until Id memorised every whisker on Kurt Druckers face. I transferred some more whisky from the bottle to my glass, and from the glass to my stomach. The more I drank, the more melancholy I became. I kept remembering how Id shoved Needles into the urinal, the way his hand had splashed down amongst the yellow soap balls. Christ, Jack, I thought, now youre beating people up I played a hand of imaginary poker with the whisky bottle. The whisky lost and had to pay up. Needles had sung, but hed been no innocent choirboy, just a punk drug dealer with important information that Id been forced to extract. I nodded at the brownish liquid in my glass, knew that Id done what had needed to be done. I also knew exactly how many drinks it would require to wipe away the shame of having done it. Some time later, the phone rang. Urr? Jack? A womans voice. COLDER THAN BLOOD 113 ED ROWE

Urr. Youre drunk. Disdain in the voice. Wha makes you think that? I can virtually smell it over the phone. So hang up if you don like it, I said, and then did precisely that. I went back to beating my drink bankrupt at imaginary cards. The phone rang again. I let it ring. I wasnt done gambling with the whisky yet; the bastard might be holding a flush. Good thing I had four Kings up my sleeve. After Id won another gulp, I reached for the phone and fumbled it out of the cradle. The receiver clattered down the side of the desk, pulling the base with it, and the whole damned thing fell onto the floor. I gathered up the mess and said hello, but the rude person had disconnected. I had to win three more tricks from the whisky bottle just to feel better about that. The phone startled me awake. It took me a few moments to figure out what was different: the sunlight coming through the window. Id passed out drunk at my desk. My neck muscles twanged like guitar strings as I reached for the phone. Yeah? Jack? Who wants to know? This is Detective Sergeant Pearl speaking. I hope youre a little less inebriated this morning. A little. A headache was playing drums on the inside of my skull. The morning light forcing its way into my eyes only made it worse. What were you doing last night? she asked. Drinking. No wisecracks today, Jack? Im disappointed. What a coincidence. I feel the same way about your shoddy policework. And whats that supposed to mean? she demanded. You dont think Im man enough to do the job, is that it? Do you think that just because Im a woman, I cant I cut her off. For Gods sake, Pearl, Im not interested in fighting gender wars with you. All I want is to see Tesss killer behind bars. I dont care whether its Superman or Wonder Woman who puts him there, as long as it happens. There was a frosty silence. I was about to hang up when she said, Is that what youve been doing, Jack? Playing Superman? COLDER THAN BLOOD 114 ED ROWE

No, Ive been drinking, I said. I already told you that. But you can still win a stuffed toy if you guess what was in the bottle. Pearl said, I know youve been asking people about Tess. I went quiet. Jack? I didnt say anything. No more nonsense, Jack, she said. What do you think youre doing? Nothing youd give me an A-plus for. Youve been investigating Tesss murder on your own, havent you? So what? My tongue felt thick and furry and in need of a toothbrush. Ive just been talking to a few people, asking a few questions. No law against that, is there? I can think of several, she said. Such as obstruction of justice, for starters. Wheres your gratitude, Pearl? Im only trying to help. I laughed. Maybe you should stop obstructing my investigation and go back to ticketing speeders and looking for lost cats, or whatever it is you cops do between donuts. Curiosity killed the cat, Jack. I almost liked her for that, but no cop was going to out-wisecrack me. Sure, but after one night with me, satisfaction brought her back. She took a sharp breath, and for a moment I was afraid shed take it the wrong way and start roasting me on the fires of feminist activism again, but all she said was, Cute. Howd you find out I was investigating, anyway? Marcus Hinley called, she said. Told me hed met this crack amateur detective who was going to chew off my lazy arse and spit out the killer. Maybe tomorrow, I said. I cant handle that much chewing with a hangover. Pearl laughed. Shame. I could afford to lose a few kilos. She snorted and then laughed again. I cant believe I just let you get away with a sexist line like that! I liked the sound of her laugh. Pearl was an attractive enough woman. If she hadnt been such a fervent man-hater, I might have even asked her out for a drink. COLDER THAN BLOOD 115 ED ROWE

So then, what have you learned during this investigation of yours? she asked, serious again. Well, lets see now, I thought. I know where bad boy Kurt Drucker is going to show up tonight. Two years on the Most Wanted list and who tracks him down in a matter of days? Me. The crack amateur detective. Nothing, I said firmly. Nothing at all. You sure about that? Maybe I could use this opportunity to pry information out of Pearl. Somebody told me that Tess used to be a heroin addict. Does that fit with what you know? The medical examiner found needle scars on her arms and thighs, but they werent recent. She may have had a drug problem in the past, but shed been clean for a while before she died. Do you know where Tess got the drugs? Were still investigating, Pearl said. Do you think that someone connected with drugs killed her? Softly, softly. Were still investigating. Damn it, I was wasting my breath here. One more thing, I said. I discovered that the killer is really an alien from the planet Zork. He whizzed on down in his spaceship and dissected her in the name of intergalactic science. Is that supposed to be funny? I dont know. Maybe itll be funnier if I tell it a second time. Enough jokes, Jack. Did you find out anything else? Id found out plenty, but did that mean I could trust the forces finest not to bungle the job? No, I said, thats as far as Ive gotten. And thats as far as you will get. The sound of cop was back in her voice. Because as of right now, this amateur investigation of yours is over. I didnt say anything. My fingers tightened around the phone. Do you understand? she said. Yeah. There was a silence. Uncomfortable for her, I hoped. Im doing you a favour by locking you out of this, Jack, she said at last. You cant afford to expose yourself to any further suspicion. Detective Constable Gars is already trying to convince the prosecutor that you killed Tess Hinley. COLDER THAN BLOOD 116 ED ROWE

I snorted. Gars couldnt convince his own arse not to crap in his jocks. Like it or not, you are a suspect, Jack. You All the more reason for me to find the killer and clear my name! My heart was racing. Gars has got it in for me. Hed rather stitch me up than try to find the real killer. There, Id said it for the record. Pearls voice lowered. Gars is only doing his job, Jack. Think about it rationally. You claim you were the last person to see Tess alive, but there are no witnesses to support that. And you have to admit, your story about the van coming back a second time doesnt sound particularly credible. Now I knew why shed gone over that point so many times during the interview. A small, cold lump of fear started to pulse in the pit of my stomach. Youre unemployed and unmarried, she went on. In front of a courtroom, with twelve hard-eyed jurors waiting to pounce on any mistake you make, youre going to look like the logical suspect. What about you, Pearl? I asked, and my voice didnt sound anywhere near as confident as I wanted it to. You believe me, dont you? Ive already told you more than I should have. But do you believe me? I want to believe you, Jack, she said reluctantly. My instincts tell me you did everything you could to help that girl. Which is more than most men would do. It wasnt enough, I said. I failed her. Thats why I need to find the killer. No, Jack! You have to back off, for your own sake. Youre interfering in a murder investigation, in which, right now, you are the prime suspect. Try to imagine explaining your actions to a jury. What are they going to think? That icy feeling of dread in my stomach intensified. Let me tell you what theyll think, she continued in a nearwhisper. Theyll think whatever the highly-paid prosecution barrister wants them to think. Hell tell them your so-called investigation was really a desperate attempt to cover up your crime. That you went around threatening those people youve talked to, trying to shut them up. Thats not true. COLDER THAN BLOOD 117 ED ROWE

It doesnt have to be true. Just imagine yourself in front of a jury. Who are they going to believe? You, in your shabby suit, with some laughable excuse about trying to right wrongs? Or the thousand-dollaran-hour Queens Counsel with his persuasive, logical argument? Theyll believe me, I said hoarsely. Ill be the one telling them the truth. Pearl sighed. Dont be nave, Jack. Ive been in this game a long time. Ive seen well-meaning people go to prison and guilty men go free. The legal system doesnt care about the truth. Its all about whos best at making their spiel sound like the truth. Wow, I said dryly. A jaded cop with wisdom. Jack, Im warning you, just back off. You have to leave this one to us. My mind rebelled against the idea of giving up, but what she was saying made a lot of sense. I guess youre right. Pearls voice became gentler. I understand your reasons, Jack. You want justice for Tess, but mostly you want to find the killer yourself because he made you feel weak and guilty for not being able to save her. I was quiet. I didnt trust my voice. She had me pegged pretty accurately. I also know why its so hard for you to let this go, she said, her voice softening further. I read in your file about what happened to your parents when you were a boy. Rage swelled up in me. You dont know shit about me, Pearl! My fist pounded the desk. Goddamn you! What did you have to bring that up for? Im only trying to help you understand Your help is not required, Detective. If I want someone to explain my tragic past to me, then Ill go to a bloody psychiatrist. I dont want to hear your half-baked theories about my feelings. You dont know a goddamned thing about how I feel! Jack I slammed the phone down. The shakes were coming in waves. Dark memories, summoned from my own private hell, threatened to burst out into a full-scale panic attack. My heart thumped wildly, rattling the bars of its cage of ribs. My hands twisted uncontrollably into claws. I could only breathe by gasping through my mouth. COLDER THAN BLOOD 118 ED ROWE

My parents, dead and butchered. The knife spearing my guts and slicing open my face. The killer gloating, Heres something else to remember me by, Jacky boy I fought it hard. I focused on being mad at Pearl, desperately trying to rechannel my emotions. Blood pulsed in my temples with the strain. I punched the desk again and again until my knuckles blistered and the past began to fade. Something else to remember me by, the voice from the past hissed once more before slithering away. I needed a drink. Got one poured. Drank it. Poured another. I hesitated with the glass at my lips, and then eased it down again untouched. The shakes were gone; it was over. It had been almost a year now since my last major attack, but at least this one had been relatively mild. There was no need to get drunk. I busied myself with familiar rituals. I watered my alfalfa farm and packed the latest crop into my tobacco tin. I shaved and put on fresh clothes, swung by the supermarket for groceries, and then cooked a proper lunch of pepper steak with sour-cream potatoes and beans, washing it down with orange juice while I read the newspaper. There was no mention of Tess; shed already become yesterdays news, superseded by the more potent tragedy of a footballers injured hamstring. Afterwards, with my belly full and my mind settled, I felt nearly human again. I knew what I had to do now. The only salvation for me was to see this thing through to the gritty end. If I backed down now because of a few fears and obstacles, I would lose any self-respect I had left. Despite what Detective Sergeant Pearl whose first name I didnt even know had said, I had to keep going, even if it left my life in ruins. Even if it left me dead.

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Chapter Fourteen
everend Alistair Hoffmans holy mansion loomed before me. It was three oclock in the afternoon and I still had plenty of time to kill before heading out to St. Kilda. Might as well ask the good Reverend if hed heard any interesting confessions lately. If I was lucky, I might even wangle a blessing out of him. For now, mine was the only car in the driveway; the other sinners probably only showed up on Sundays to gargle the holy wine and tithe their paycheques away. I leaned on the doorbell and heard it chime inside. I wondered if Hoffman would have anything to tell me. If Tess had confided in anyone, surely she would have blabbed to her priest. All I had to do was worm the information out from under his confidential dog collar. I practised my most disarming smile, but it felt too much like a wooden grimace. I jiggled the doorbell again and waited. The afternoon air was warm, the sun and clouds playing peekaboo with each other. Birds twittered in the pine trees behind me and the smell of freshly mown grass tickled my nostrils. Maybe Hoffman was busy trying to wake God with a few heartfelt prayers for bigger donations. Hed be wasting his time though: Gods a heavy sleeper. I reached for the bell again and the door clacked and swung open. A fresh-faced teenage girl looked up and blinked at me. Oh, hello? She wore a tight T-shirt with a pink handprint emblem splayed across the chest. Her legs were long and tanned and ended in a pair of bare feet. She had a cute face, with wavy blonde hair that fell in front of her eyes, and a demure smile straight out of a centrefold. She couldnt have been more than fifteen years old. When she grew up, shed be a man-killer. Hi. My names Jack Marsh. Is the master of the mansion home? Reverend Hoffman? Yeah, Reverend Hoffman. Can I talk to him? You want to talk to Reverend Hoffman? There was a puzzled look on her face. Yes, Id like to talk to Reverend Hoffman. Oh! she said. You want to see Reverend Hoffman! Uh huh. I was starting to feel like a Hemingway character. Crystal told me he wanted a word with me. COLDER THAN BLOOD 120 ED ROWE

Um, Ill see if hes available. What did you say your name was again? Bozo the Clown. Im sorry, who? She still had that crease of puzzlement on her pretty forehead. I was starting to suspect that she wore it often. Jack Marsh. Oh, okay, thats what I thought you said. The frown subsided. Im Vanessa. Hi, Vanessa. I noticed that she wore a gold crucifix necklace similar to the ones Id seen on Tess and Crystal. Hi, Jack. She looked me over appraisingly. Say, youre handsome! she said. I was flattered, but she was way too young. Im having a good hair day, I said. Do you live here? Sometimes, she said. Its such a wonderful place. Yeah, I said dryly. God must pay Hoffman a damn good salary. Vanessa pouted. Dont say that. Reverend Hoffman worked really, really hard for this place. He really did! Really? Yes, really! She nodded vigorously, her long hair jumping around her face. She was a nice enough kid, if you didnt mind the echo coming from between her ears. Hey, what happened to your cheek? she asked. I rubbed my scar self-consciously. One of the lions in the arena swatted me with its paw, I said. But fortunately the Romans gave me the thumbs up. Oh, okay, she said, and went back to staring unabashedly at my face. Maybe I should have drawn a picture to help her get the joke. Uh, about the Reverend? I prompted. Oh, thats right, she said. Hang loose. Ill see if I can find him. The door closed and I heard her padding off into the house to look for Hoffman. It was a big house. Hopefully shed tied a ball of string to the doorknob so that she could find her way back again. I hung loose. I tried to peer through the bay window, but the sun was shining directly on the glass and it was difficult to see inside. I could just make out the silhouette of the conference table Id seen during my previous snooping expedition. From what I could see, it was probably worth more than my entire annual dole handout. COLDER THAN BLOOD 121 ED ROWE

The door opened and Reverend Alistair Hoffman himself strode towards me. He was a big, broad-shouldered man, but he moved with a kind of leonine grace. He wore regular clothes, with a white clerical collar showing at his throat. He stepped in close and seized my right hand. Jack, isnt it? He had the salesmans handshake, and his beard curled up into a professional smile that didnt quite touch his eyes. Crystals told me all about you. From what I hear, youre trying to find out who killed our Tess. You heard right. Surely the police are better qualified to handle these matters? That, I said, is a matter of opinion. I see. He released my hand. Well, come on inside, Jack. Im happy to do whatever I can to help. He gave a magnanimous shrug. We can talk in my office. I followed him across the threshold. I didnt much like his patronising attitude, but on the off chance that he might know something useful, I was willing to put up with a few minutes of biting my tongue. The mansion was surreally decorated: the walls had been papered with embossed golden crosses set into a swirling orange cloud pattern, while the carpet looked like a shimmering electric blue fungus. I could smell the heady fumes of a joss stick, and heard New Age instrumental music being piped from a hidden sound system somewhere. I blinked a few times to make sure I hadnt stepped into a bizarre parallel dimension. Vanessa was waiting in the hallway, watching me curiously. Be a good girl and bring us a pot of coffee, will you. Hoffman told her. Yes, Reverend. She trotted off deeper into the house, weaving her teenage behind from side to side as she went. She moved as if she were high on something that wasnt just the joy of living. It made me wonder about that joss stick. Hoffman led me down the hallway to a heavy door and unlocked it with a key from his pocket. His office was a cosy room crowded with bookshelves and an expensive looking TV cabinet. The bookshelves were mostly tenanted by legal textbooks, with the exception of one shelf which was entirely devoted to a wonderful collection of miniature crystal and pewter elephants. Hoffman took the plush leather chair behind his mahogany desk and waved me to one of the guest chairs on COLDER THAN BLOOD 122 ED ROWE

the other side. I used to be a barrister before I began doing the Lords work, he explained, indicating the law books. Thanks to my success in that field, I now have the luxury of being able to pursue my true calling in this magnificent home. What sort of cases were you involved in? Criminal defence, mostly, he said. White collar fraud, possession charges, that sort of thing. Rarely anything terribly exciting, Im afraid, but all lucrative nonetheless. I felt that slight tingle at the back of my mind again, the sense that an important connection triggered by Hoffmans words had flitted almost close enough to grasp. I strained for it, but it stayed maddeningly out of reach and remained just a tingle. It made me feel churlish. What about donations from the faithful? I asked. Do you count those on your tax return? Hoffman looked at me. I run a free church, Jack. None of my followers have ever been asked for money. His perfectly capped teeth glinted. My personal investments and other business enterprises bring in more than enough to meet my needs. I grinned. Do diamond-studded toothbrushes count as needs? His mouth tightened into a slash in his beard. The Lords message is far more important than petty monetary matters, he said with a condescending edge to his voice. If you say so. I was beginning to suspect that The Lord hadnt blessed Reverend Hoffman with a sense of humour. There was a discreet knock at the door. Hoffman said, Enter, and Vanessa came in bearing a tray laden with steaming hot coffee, sugar, and cream in a little jug. Actual cream, not milk. The coffee had been percolated and smelled divine, a far cry from the instant paint-stripper I drank at home. Vanessa carefully poured out two cups, and handed one to Hoffman. Cream or sugar, Jack? she asked. The tip of her tongue winked at me from the corner of her mouth. One sugar and lots of cream, thanks. She stirred it in and brought the cup to me. Our fingers touched as she handed me the cup and she gazed directly into my eyes until I felt an uncomfortable blush crawl across my face. Just what I didnt need: a teenage Lolita with a crush on me. Then she was gone, the door closing COLDER THAN BLOOD 123 ED ROWE

softly behind her. The coffee was excellent. Hoffman dabbed at his bearded lips with a handkerchief. He stared at me. Do you believe in God, Jack? I made a noncommittal grunt and busied myself with my coffee. Do you believe in Jesus Christ our Saviour? Might as well get it over with. No. Im not a Christian. He lifted a well-practiced eyebrow. Surely you must believe in something. That there is some higher purpose in life. My only purpose in life, I said, is to watch cricket on TV, sleep in late, and get drunk with my mates every weekend. Hoffman leaned forward, his voice low. Those are slothful, selfish pursuits, he said. Jesus Christ our Lord taught that we must devote ourselves to His service, that we must share His love and happiness with others that they may also come to know Him. He gave me a stern, priestly look. Love is the opposite of misery, Jack. When we come together to share in Jesus love, there can be no unhappiness. Evidently Hoffman wouldnt recognise a joke if it bit him on the balls. I decided to play it straight. Love is a lost cause, I said. Theres too much hate and anger and suffering out there, and more every day. Love is a force, Jack. We who give ourselves to Gods service understand that, alone, we cant change the world. But together, we can build a growing force of love that will stand tall against the cold wind of evil. Alone, we have no hope. But united in the name of Christ, we stand a chance! I had to admire the strength of his belief. Even though I wasnt religious, I sometimes envied those who were able to believe. Faith seemed to give them a serene, unshakeable purpose, the strength to make a stand against the indifference of life. But I was too cynically logical to ever let myself be swept off my feet by religious mania. In a world where science has taken away our ignorance, we no longer point our fingers to the heavens as an explanation for the things we dont understand. Weve unscrewed the mystery to see what was inside, and now that the magic has stopped working, we dont know how to put it back together again. But theological debates werent what Id come here for. I said, Reverend, do you have any idea who might have killed Tess Hinley? His eyes flashed disappointment at the change of subject; Id COLDER THAN BLOOD 124 ED ROWE

knocked him off his hobbyhorse just as he was racing into the home stretch. He leaned back in his chair. None at all, Im afraid. Did she ever say anything about being scared of somebody? Sorry, no. He shrugged expansively. Did she ever confess anything that might be relevant? I let the question dangle and waited to see if he would pick it up and tug at the thread. We dont have confessionals here. I was wasting my time. Hoffman didnt know anything. Not one person in this whole damned case knew anything. I stared into my cup to see if I could spot any better questions floating there. Nothing. I drained the cup and got dregs in my mouth. Hoffman said, Tess was a sweet, happy Christian girl without an enemy in the world. I cant think of anyone who would do such horrible things to her. I can think of one person. I played my hole card and hoped Hoffman hadnt been peeking: A drug dealer named Kurt Drucker. Hoffman lifted an eyebrow. Is that so? Yeah, Druckers a real nasty slice of bacon. Word on the street is that he was supplying Tess with drugs. Hoffmans brow wrinkled. I never saw any indication that Tess was involved with narcotics. And as counsellor to a number of troubled young people, believe me, I do know the signs. Are you sure youre not mistaken? He shook his head as if unable to accept that one of his faithful could possibly have hidden a secret from him. Several witnesses have confirmed it. I know Tess had her problems, but drugs? I pounced on that. What problems? He waved his hands. Only God knows what darkness the human heart holds, he said, as if that answered everything. It was time to bring out the thumbscrews. What troubles, Reverend? Hoffmans face darkened slightly. I couldnt say. Tess, God bless her soul, unfortunately chose to leave the church before I could help her with her difficulties. He grimaced. I understand she had a falling out with Crystal over some boy. Duong Nguyen, I said. Crystal swiped him away from her. Hoffman didnt seem to hear me. I implored her to stay, of course. COLDER THAN BLOOD 125 ED ROWE

I begged Tess to practise Christian forgiveness. But she was young and impulsive, and she wouldnt listen to me. He fixed me with hot, penetrating eyes that boiled with regret. If she hadnt turned her back on God and those who loved her, she might still be alive today. Without the supporting love of Christ to guide her, she simply lost her way. I waited to see if any new information might be tied to the end of the sermon. But the heat of righteousness had subsided, and all he said was, I pray for her soul. For a moment he looked ten years older, drained by loss and regret, and then his face smoothed out into a blank sheet of faux holiness again. There was nothing for me here. It was becoming more and more obvious that Kurt Drucker was probably the killer. All Id gained in talking to Hoffman was a little more background confirmation that Tess had been a troubled girl. But I still had an uneasy rumbling in my gut that told me there was more to this case than met the eye. I tried again to summon that tickling sense of revelation that had flickered in my mind earlier, but it remained frustratingly out of reach. I thanked Hoffman and got up to leave, nodding politely as he made inviting noises about coming back to join the group for a bible-reading class some time. I barely listened; already my mind was working on strategies for tackling Drucker tonight. At the front door, Hoffman shook my hand. Good luck, Jack, he said. Youll keep me informed if you learn anything, wont you? Ill try. May God smile favourably on your endeavours. I laughed. Itll make a change from Him pissing on me. Seeing a frown start to form on Hoffmans face, I said a quick goodbye, and left. I made it to my car without being struck by lightning. Hoffmans frown followed me all the way to the gate.

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Chapter Fifteen
y the time I reached St. Kilda, night had crept into the sky and disposed of the sun like a black-hearted assassin. The Fun Palace was on Fitzroy Street, a gaudy eyesore in the middle of cosmopolitan nirvana. I drove with the window down, searching in vain for a parking spot. Seagulls cawed with hungry dissatisfaction, echoing the materialistic cries of their human counterparts. The breeze lifted the smell of Port Phillip Bay to my nose: not the pleasant ocean scent of poetry, but a damp, murky odour of marine death, rising up from the depths like the spirits of drowned sailors. Down on the esplanade, the happy people strolled and rollerbladed and courted, while out on the pier, a solitary figure stood looking out to sea, perhaps mourning a long-lost dream or contemplating a watery suicide. The iconic kiosk at the end of the pier had been rebuilt after a fire, I remembered; its new face looked the same as its old one. When I looked back, the person on the pier was gone. I finally found a niche to squeeze the car into, reversing in just as a bottle blonde in a Mercedes tried to claim the space. She gave me a spoiled pout, and then when I still didnt budge, the finger. I took out my alfalfa holder and popped the last handful of sprouts into my mouth. The gaping clowns maw of Luna Park wasnt visible from here, but I could hear distant screams as the Scenic Railway rollercoaster plunged into its abyss of manufactured terror. Outside the car, a used syringe lay in the gutter, the by-product of a brief, manufactured glimpse of heaven. And in the notorious back alleys just a few blocks from here, the street prostitutes would be busily manufacturing love on demand. I checked my watch; it was almost eight. The Fun Palaces walls were grimy from cigarette smoke and the arcade games looked at least a decade out of date. Only a couple of bored kids were playing the machines. A pot-bellied man with white hair snored on a stool behind the change counter. I pretended to browse the bleeping and flashing machines as I watched the front entrance. One of the kids lost his game and stared sullenly at me as though it had been my fault. I fished around in my pockets as if hunting for coins until he stopped looking. A few minutes later, two goons entered. Neither of them looked like COLDER THAN BLOOD 127 ED ROWE

Kurt Drucker. They looked more like sides of beef that had escaped from the butchers hook. The bigger one wore an ill-fitting grey business suit buttoned tightly around an excess of muscles. He had cabbage ears and a nose that had been broken into the shape of an S-bend. He looked like one of those guys who open beer bottles with their eye sockets for party tricks. His right hand was hidden inside his coat pocket. The other man was leaner, but still no slouch in the bodybuilding stakes. He wore a crisp new blue suit, but the cruel, sharp-edged expression on his face spoiled his looks. He stared at me with hard lizard eyes. Thatll be him, he said to his partner. They flanked me on either side. The thug in the grey suit raised the bulge in his pocket towards me. I have a gun in here, he said in a surprisingly mellow voice. He jiggled the pocket. And Im an excellent shot. I bet you say that to all the girls, I said. So youre a funny guy, huh? he said with a half-smile. What do you think, mate? he asked the mean-looking thug. Is he a funny guy? Blue was studying his fingernails in a bored way. Im sure he thinks he is, he said, picking a fleck of dirt from under one nail. Then Ill try not to laugh too hard, Grey said, in case I split my sides. His eyes sparkled with good humour, but his shoulders were set for action. We wouldnt want that, I said. Your suits under enough strain as it is. See what I mean? Too funny for his own good. He rustled his coat again. I waited. Maybe there was a gun in that pocket, and maybe it was just a banana, but I wasnt going to take the chance. There was no karate move for blocking bullets. We hear, Blue said, that youve been asking about Mr. Drucker. Which is why were here, his partner added. Because Mr. Drucker doesnt like people asking about him, Blue finished. I exaggerated a wince. You guys need to work on your tag-team routine. Youre about as witty as a tax office press release. They only smiled at that, which unnerved me. It meant they couldnt be rattled into making mistakes. COLDER THAN BLOOD 128 ED ROWE

Alright, I said. So that little worm Needles blabbed to Drucker, and Drucker sent you oafs out to put the arm on me. What now? Now well casually walk outside to our car, Grey said. Mr. Drucker wants to see you. He motioned with the concealed gun. We moved out onto the sidewalk in tight formation. The snoozing owner and the kids hammering away at the arcade machines didnt even notice that I was being kidnapped, or if they did, they didnt much care. A pinpoint itch in the small of my back felt like a premonition of where the first bullet would strike. A silver BMW was double-parked out front. It looked very new and shiny. Blue opened the back door and motioned me inside. The ride of your life, he said. Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times, said the other one. You two are such comedians, I said. If you were any funnier, someone might accidentally chuckle. Try this on for laughs then, Blue said, and punched me in the stomach with a sledgehammer fist. Howd you like that skit, tough guy? I was doubled over with pain, outnumbered, and a gun was aimed at me. Baiting them probably wasnt the smart thing to do. You hit like a schoolgirl, I gasped. Youll be screaming like one soon enough. Now get in. I slid onto the backseat. Grey crowded into the back with me, still smiling. He kept the pocket pointed at me while Blue got the car moving. Once we were underway, he withdrew his hand to reveal the cold, unblinking eye of a heavy-looking gun. The eye lifted until it was staring directly at my face. If you make a move, Grey said, Ill shoot you. There was none of the friendliness now. If you try to attract attention, Ill shoot you. If you so much as fart, Ill shoot you. I glared at him. What if I call you a fat, stupid idiot? Then Ill shoot you, he said. Give me your wallet. So youre petty thieves as well. I pulled out my wallet and handed it to him. He took it with his left hand, his right never wavering, and passed it over the seat to Blue, who began flicking through it as he drove. Grey grinned. Relax. Lucas is just checking your ID to make sure COLDER THAN BLOOD 129 ED ROWE

youre not John Smith or Joe Bloggs. Its Fred Nerk, actually. Ill make sure they spell it right on your tombstone, he said, smirking. His names Jack Marsh, announced the thug named Lucas. Lives in Ringwood. He handed the wallet back to me and I put it away. Pleased to meet you, Jack, Grey said. Im Warren. Youll forgive me if I dont shake. Sure. The back of my head was growing damp with sweat. Needles told us youre some kind of martial arts pro. Said he almost had you wiped out in that dunny before you pulled a trick Bruce Lee move on him. He snorted. Id say Needles is prone to exaggeration, wouldnt you, Jack? Lets just say I hope he washed his hands. Clever. Warren tilted his brows forward in a serious expression. Now, tell me why youve been poking around in Mr. Druckers pants. Ill tell that to Drucker. Warrens eyes hardened. He lifted the gun to within an inch of my nose. Dont make me have to scrub the upholstery. Thats easily avoided, I said. Dont shoot. He glared at me for a long moment before lowering the gun. Shrugged as if it didnt matter either way. But he kept the gun trained steadily on my chest. We drove along St. Kilda Road, then took Kings Way out to the Westgate Freeway, passing through downtown Melbourne in all its bleak industrial glory. Soon we were crossing the Westgate Bridge, that great metal monster of death. Thirty-five construction workers died during its birthing throes, and in its maturity the bridge has despatched countless unhappy souls ever since. The stark lights of the city grew distant as we made our way further into the black rural night. We travelled for almost half an hour in silence. I watched Warrens hands, waiting for either an opportunity or a bullet to come my way. Neither did. At the outskirts of Werribee, Lucas slowed the BMW and turned onto a dark road lined with wire fences on either side. We passed a sign, and in the flash of headlights, I saw that we had entered a municipal garbage tip. I had no doubt that they were planning to kill me. The lights from the freeway winked out as the car glided around a curve. I glimpsed scrub and trees off to the sides. No houses, no people; COLDER THAN BLOOD 130 ED ROWE

the tip was closed for the night. Warren faded to a murky silhouette with gleaming eyes. Moonlight glinted off the barrel of his gun. Let me go now, I said, just to be saying something tough, and Ill let you both off with a stern reprimand. Neither of them bothered with that, not even to hit me. Obviously this was the serious part. A trickle of sweat dripped down the back of my neck. Ahead was an area of desolate ground filled with huge mountains of rubbish. There was one section for plant cuttings and grass, another for recyclables, and a pit for tossing in hard waste. Old car tyres stacked in rickety towers swayed in the wind like unsteady drunks. The bulldozer had been locked away for the night. A sparse forest of bushland surrounded the tip. I wondered if daylight would show the trees leaning away from their smelly neighbours. The BMW stopped near a small building that was probably the toll office. Lucas shut down the engine but left the headlights on. My right eye began twitching; I couldnt stop staring into the barrel of the gun. The smell of garbage began to seep into the car, rank and offensive in the back of my nose. Get out, Warren said. Why? So you can kill me? Not me, he said, grinning. Thats not my job Outside, as if on cue, a pair of brilliant headlights flashed on. A sleek, nearly invisible car rolled out from behind the toll building. A black Porsche 911 Turbo, my dream car. Somehow I doubted that its owner would be selling me any dreams tonight. Out, Warren ordered. He wasnt smiling. I opened my door and climbed out. Warren scooted across the seat and shoved me forward before I could even think about slamming the door in his face. I staggered a few steps and spun around, my fists clenched, and saw the gun aimed at my chest. Warren grinned. Lucas moved up beside him, arms folded, his cruel eyes like watchful snakeheads waiting to strike. The Porsches door slammed. A shiver rippled ominously down my spine. I turned and saw the silhouette of a man walking towards us, carrying a bag that swung against his leg as he walked. Lucas nodded to the figure. Evening, Mr. Drucker. Yeah, yeah, Drucker said, stepping into the light. His eyes were small and greedy and a little too moist. He jerked his head at me. So COLDER THAN BLOOD 131 ED ROWE

whats your name, faggot? His moustache lifted into a sneer. I glared at him and said nothing. I asked you a question! His eyes jiggled dangerously. Yeah, I said. And it didnt deserve an answer. His names Jack Marsh, Lucas told him. Hes the one who roughed up Needles. We found him waiting at the drop. Trapped like a rat in a slippery dunny, Warren added, smiling. Drucker ignored the joke. So, Jack Marsh, I hear youve been talking about me without saying please. He rubbed his moustache as he considered me. Think youre a tough guy, do you? Yep. Well, hed asked. He laughed. It was a wet, gurgling sound. Well, well, well. A tough guy. He gestured to his men. Oh, I just love tough guys, dont I, boys? Breaking them is so much more rewarding I didnt say anything. The nearest cover was the toll building, but that would be locked for the night and I wouldnt find any refuge there. The rubbish and tyre mounds were exposed and useless. The bushland bordering the tip was my best bet, but Warrens gun would cut me down before I reached the nearest trees twenty metres away. Its a nice night for a chat, isnt it? Drucker said. He lowered his bag to the ground. It looked like one of those leather bags that old-time doctors used to carry when making house calls. He smirked. A nice night for some friendly fun. If you say so. He motioned to Lucas, who stepped up and pinned my arms behind my back. I didnt resist. I could feel Lucass breath on the back of my neck. Drucker looked me over and gave a little squeal. Isnt he marvellous? Such a brave little tough guy, this Jack Marsh fellow. He prodded my chest with his finger. Now, why have you been trying to find me? Because of Tess Hinley, I said. His nose wrinkled. Oh, her. So you admit you killed her? I all but shouted. I havent admitted anything. He stepped back, a nasty sneer on his face. And anyway, even if I did have something to admit, why would I admit it to you? Why not? Youre holding all the cards right now. COLDER THAN BLOOD 132 ED ROWE

This isnt a James Bond movie, he said, and laughed scornfully. Youre here to die, not listen to speeches. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear. I will tell you one thing though: I dont kill girls. I heard that slight note of disgust again. Youve gone chasing the wrong man and landed yourself in a pickle for nothing. Maybe you didnt kill her yourself, I said, but youre involved somehow. He snorted with amusement. Either youve got balls, Jack Marsh, he said, or youre real stupid. A bit of both, I said. But it hasnt stopped me yet. He nodded agreement. Yet. Who killed her, Drucker? She was your customer. What does it matter? he said dismissively. She took her medicine like a good little bitch. Now shes dead, so who cares? There are always more junkies. I felt like curing his oily expression with a double dose of knuckles. There wouldnt be any junkies if it werent for scumbag dope peddlers like you, I said, and tried to stare him down. For once, I lost. He was too intense, and the fact that one click of his fingers would lodge a bullet in my brain didnt help. He snickered. See, youre not so tough, Jack Marsh. He leaned forward conspiratorially and said, Do you really want to know who killed the bitch? Who? He grinned. You can ask her yourself. Shes waiting for you at the Boneyard Hotel. His moustache twitched like a thick black slug crawling across his lip. Youll be checking in there real soon now. Yeah, echoed Lucas. Real soon. They all got a laugh out of that. It didnt much tickle my funny bone though, so I interrupted them with: Who killed her, damn it? Drucker stared at me. Jeez! Why are you so worked up about one silly little junkie cow, anyway? Screwing her, were you? She didnt deserve to die like that. The man who killed her does though. Drucker sneered. Such tough talk for such a little poofter. He poked my chest again. But now Ive heard enough of your posturing and Ive answered enough of your questions. Now its my turn to get some answers. He kneaded his moustache between his fingers. Who COLDER THAN BLOOD 133 ED ROWE

told you about me? Nobody. I looked in the Yellow Pages under Filthy Scumbags and yours was the biggest ad. He slapped my face. Do you like pain, Jack? Because if you dont, it would be very foolish of you to insult me. My cheek stung, but I couldnt rub it with Lucas gripping my arms. Ill ask you one more time, Drucker said. Why were you looking for me? Try to answer politely this time. Anger began building inside me like a volcano preparing to erupt. I wanted to find you, I said, to tell you what a sick piece of filth you are. Drucker planted a hairy hand on my chest. He leaned his moustache into my face. I hope you enjoy screaming, Jack Marsh, he said, his breath sour and stinking of onions. Youll be doing rather a lot of it tonight. He punched me hard in the stomach, but I was expecting it and had tightened my stomach muscles. I gave him a groan anyway, so he wouldnt feel like a failure. He threw back his head and laughed. You like that? he shouted. You want some more? He hit me again in the same spot. It hurt, but I felt Lucass grip on my sweaty arms loosen momentarily when the punch connected. It gave me an idea. Drucker opened his leather bag and rummaged inside it. He brought out a pair of pliers and lifted them up for me to see. See these, Jack? Know what Im going to do with them if you dont behave? A mad fire crackled in his piggy eyes. I can guess. So many options, arent there, Jack? Teeth, eyelids, nipples, testicles. His lip curled. Youre going to answer my questions now, arent you, pretty boy? While youve still got a tongue? I nodded slowly. Behind me, Lucas chuckled. Now, Drucker said. For the last time, why were you trying to find me? I knew Tess was taking drugs. I figured she had to be getting them through someone at the university, so I went after Needles and found out about you through him. Youre lying. Needles told the boys you already knew my name. He shook his head with mock sadness and clicked the pliers open and shut. Liars must be punished, Jack. Didnt your mother ever teach you not to lie to people? COLDER THAN BLOOD 134 ED ROWE

My shirt was soaked with sweat. My throat was dry. But to hell with it. I met his gaze and said, Yeah, but she told me there was one exception. Whats that? When the person is a sick piece of filth like you. Kurt Druckers face compressed into a mask of hate. He jabbed out with the pliers and pinched them into the meat of my bicep. My arm screamed with white fire. What did you say to me? he demanded. I repeated myself through a stoic grimace. He repositioned the pliers onto my left pectoral muscle and squeezed, hard. I gasped as the metal teeth ground relentlessly into muscle and flesh. Drucker released a small wet giggle of glee. Say it again, he dared me. He released the pliers and clicked them menacingly. I said it again. Drucker sneered. He reached for my face with the pliers and I kneed him in the groin. His legs buckled, and as he fell, I brought my foot down fast and stomped on Lucass shin. Lucas yelped; his grip on my arms loosened. I windmilled my arms free, reached back over my shoulder, and grabbed a hunk of hair. I rolled my torso to the side and yanked. Classic flip position. Lucas sailed over my back, his body following his scalp. Warren had only just begun to react, the gun starting to rise. I bucked Lucas towards him and they both went down in a jumble of limbs. I didnt stop to watch; I hurdled Drucker and ran for the trees. Kill him! Drucker shrieked. I heard the thugs scrambling to their feet. The trees were still fifteen metres away. I was a moving target in open space. I put my head down and sprinted. Ten more metres Out of the way, Luke! shouted Warren. I strafed sharply to the left and a bullet cracked through the space where Id just been. I made a final dash for the trees, the skin on the back of my neck humming like a live wire. Five metres A second bullet snapped past so close to my face that a wave of scorched air puffed my cheek. I lunged into the cover of the trees, crashing through leaves and twigs with one forearm held up to protect my face. My feet barely touched the ground. Shrubs and ferns clutched at my legs as I bolted through them. An unseen branch grazed the side of my head and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. I regained COLDER THAN BLOOD 135 ED ROWE

my balance and rushed deeper into the moonlit forest. The gun roared again from somewhere behind me and I heard the bullet smack into a tree a good distance to my left. They must have lost sight of me. I could hear the crunching footsteps of the men behind me as they worked their way cautiously into the bush. I slowed my pace and toe-walked to the right, keeping close to cover. The moon stared at me through a part in the clouds, making me feel naked and exposed. I crept further into the forest until I reached a cluster of tall eucalyptus trees. Overhead branches blotted out the moonlight, creating a pocket of darkness. I crouched beside one of the trees, blending the outline of my body against its trunk, and waited. I could smell the trees pungent aroma, contaminated by the underlying stink from the rubbish tip. I pawed the ground under the tree until I found a rock the size of a cricket ball, and slid it into my pocket. It was no match for a gun, but it was better than nothing. Jack Marsh! Drucker yelled. Get back here now! I compressed myself further into my hiding place. My heart knocked erratically against my ribs like a tribal drum. I couldnt get enough air; every breath had to be won against the urge to stifle it. My night vision had improved and I could see a fair distance into the milky dimness now, but I also knew that the others would have adapted as well. The earthy aroma of the woods smelled like an open grave. Over here! Drucker called to his men. He sounded closer. I heard them come crashing through the forest. What is it, boss? Lucas asked. See this broken fern, I heard Drucker say. The stalk is still moist. He went that way. Take the flank over there and fan out. Well soon have him flushed. Roger that. You hear me, Jack Marsh? Drucker shouted. Were coming for you! They began crunching through the woods again, drawing inexorably closer. If I stayed here, they would find me. I knew that, but my body resisted, fear keeping me frozen in place. The first vibrations of a panic attack started to hum in my chest. I forced myself to remember every blow Drucker had landed on me, the humiliation of having been at his mercy. I visualised his piggy, perverted eyes and that ridiculous moustache. Hatred drove away the terror and my muscles unlocked. I COLDER THAN BLOOD 136 ED ROWE

felt like kicking Druckers teeth down his throat. My fists clenched, adrenaline pumped, and I was back in control of my body. I slipped away from the safety of the trees, my knees popping after crouching for so long, and hurried ahead of my pursuers. Despite my efforts to be stealthy, twigs and bark still crackled under my feet. I prayed that the men chasing me couldnt hear the noises above the sounds of their own progress. I turned my head to look behind me and a protruding branch gouged my shoulder. Anger bristled inside me and I almost punched the tree. Save it for Drucker, I told myself, and kept moving. Suddenly I reached the far edge of the forest. Ahead lay an open hilly field with no cover. I squinted into the dark night, desperately seeking alternatives, but there were none. Drucker and his men were closing in. The crest of the hill was maybe two hundred metres away and a vague glow came from that direction. I squinted harder; beyond the hill, moonlight gleamed off a wire fence. And behind that fence, the land dipped down to a road on which I could just make out the rooftops of a string of residential houses. I smiled grimly. Freedom, if I could reach it. I took three deep breaths and was about to start running for my life when movement snagged the corner of my eye. A dark figure emerged from the forest just five metres away, pausing at the edge of the trees. Drucker. He tilted his head as if sniffing for my scent. The other two were still crashing through the woods some distance away. Drucker must have hunting experience, I realised; he had crept up on me like a sleek, silent jaguar stalking its prey. The silhouette of his jaw turned back and forth as he scanned the hillside. I stood there, paralysed. If I broke away from the trees now, he would spot me immediately, but if I didnt act soon, Warren and Lucas would arrive in a matter of seconds. The rock Id picked up was still in my pocket. Moving only my arm, I lobbed it as hard as I could, high over the tops of the trees, aiming for a point towards the cars to make them think Id doubled back. Moments later, the rock clattered against something in the distance. This way! Lucas yelled. Weve got him! I heard him charging off through the bush, with Warren close behind. Drucker started at the noise, but didnt rush off towards it as Id hoped. The ruse hadnt fooled him; perhaps something had registered in his peripheral vision. He cocked his head in my direction, as if trying to decide whether I was a man or a tree. His COLDER THAN BLOOD 137 ED ROWE

teeth flashed in the moonlight. I know youre there, Jack Marsh, he whispered. I can smell your fear. I stood motionless in the darkness. He was just metres away, almost close enough to touch. Maybe he really could smell me. Youre afraid of me, arent you, queer-boy? he said. You know youre not man enough to take me on, just you and me. He held up his fists and displayed them in the moonlight. What do you say, Jack? Are you man enough to take me? I said nothing. In the background, the thrashings of the two thugs receded further into the distance. Whats the matter, Jack? Pliers got your tongue? Drucker sniggered. It was a sickly, greasy sound, and it made me hate him all the more. Anger flooded my brain like a red cape to a bull. You sick piece of filth, I growled. Ill wrap your tongue around your neck and strangle you with it! I pushed away from the tree and launched myself at him. Druckers eyes became white beacons of fear in the dimness. Warren, Lucas! he screeched in a girlish voice. Help me! He raised an arm to protect his head. I bashed it out of the way. I drove my other fist into his throat with crunching impact. He made a horrible craaak sound and staggered backwards. His blocky moustache jiggled as though he wanted to say something, but all he could force out was a raw, gargling rattle. He dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl. I stood over him, balling my fists. The others were coming; I could hear them stomping towards us. I reluctantly left Drucker there and began running up the hill. Shouts chased me, almost inaudible over the pounding of blood in my head. I didnt dare look back, concentrating only on crossing the open area. I poured on the speed, my calf muscles aching. Now I could see the wire fence, just a hundred metres away. Behind me a gunshot roared, but I was too far away now for the shooter to get a good aim, and it missed me by a wide margin. I risked a glance back. Lucas was jogging up the hill, only twenty metres behind me, puffing hard but keeping pace. Warren stood in a shooters stance back near the trees, trying to line me up in his sights. I glimpsed Drucker pacing beside him, issuing orders with one hand clutched to his throat. COLDER THAN BLOOD 138 ED ROWE

My lungs burned as I approached the crest of the hill. A gunshot crackled through the night air, the sound droning away in a piercing whistle. Then another shot, sent to mate with the first wherever near misses go to couple. Cut it out, you idiot! Youll hit me! Lucas yelled. He had halved the gap between us; he was fit and strong, and his body hadnt been slowed by a beating the way mine had. Id be in trouble if he caught me. I saw Drucker and Warren begin jogging up the hill after us. Distracted, I skidded on a patch of mud and Lucas gained another few metres on me. The fence was twenty metres away. I faced forward, racing desperately through the black night. Fifteen metres. Ten. Behind the fence, the ground dropped away to reveal houses and amber streetlights. Five metres, with Lucass harsh breathing right behind me I leapt at the fence, dug my fingers into the wire mesh. I clutched the steel support pole and hauled myself up just as Lucas grabbed my foot and yanked. Using his force against him, with the pole as a pivot point, I spun around and smashed my free heel into his face. He let go and fell hard on his butt. I swung back to the fence, climbed over the top. Unexpected barbed wire sank into my thigh. I tore myself loose, crying out with the pain, and flung myself over the fence. My feet hit the slope at the wrong angle and I was thrown into a roll. I tumbled over sharp stones, scraping down the incline until my body thumped into the ditch at the bottom. My head took a wallop hard enough to bring me to the brink of unconsciousness; only the adrenaline pumping through my system kept me from slipping over the edge. Dizzy and injured in several places, I still managed to get to my feet. I jogged unsteadily down the road, looking for cover. There was nobody around, but even if there had been, I knew better than to hope anyone would stop to help me. There were plenty of houses along the street, some with lit windows, but I didnt want to put any families at risk. I kept moving until I hoped I was out of gunshot range before finally daring to look back. Drucker and his thugs were still behind the fence I had vaulted. They watched me in silence, making no effort to climb over and follow. I moved into the brightness of a corner streetlight so that they could see me properly. Take that, you sick piece of filth! I shouted, and gave them the middle-finger salute with both hands. I felt giddy with relief and triumph. I left them standing there and jogged off around the corner, my COLDER THAN BLOOD 139 ED ROWE

adrenaline surge reaching its crescendo. I made half a dozen random turns before I found a house with a For Lease sign on the nature strip and no cars in the driveway. I unlatched the side gate and sneaked through into the backyard. High brush hedges, neglected pot plants, a sheltered decking overlooking the pool: Id be safe here for the night. I drank water from an outside tap and washed my face and hands before collapsing into a canvas deckchair to assess my injuries. My thighs and belly stung from barbed wire cuts. Some nasty bruises were rising where Drucker had worked on me with the pliers. And I could feel my pulse throbbing through a golf ball sized lump on the back of my head, like a mad musician pounding out drumbeats of pain. Whisky would fix it, if I had any, I thought ruefully. At least my alfalfa tin had survived the adventure, although it was empty and had no congratulations to offer. I curled into a ball on the deckchair and tried to sleep. The adrenaline rush had smoothed out and I was exhausted. I hugged myself against the cold, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier as if theyd waded into a pair of concrete boots, until finally I sank down, down, down into the blackness, and the dark night became blissfully darker

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Chapter Sixteen
woke to the cold light of morning and found a brown cocker spaniel sniffing my face. It had mournful eyes and a moist tongue. I shooed the dog away and it scurried off to a safe distance, its claws ticking on the frost-covered decking boards. I squinted blearily at it, and it sniffed warily at me in return. Neither of us decided the other was worth barking at. A wan dawn light lapped at the edges of the horizon, the moon still lingering like the last guest to leave a party. Bloated clouds hung in the sky like great heavy sponges, a dull promise of rain later in the day. The pool smelled faintly of chlorine. I saw a bald lemon tree in the middle of the yard and a small greenhouse with broken panes set back near the fence. Early birds chirped sweet melodies to each other as they hunted their wormy prey. I lay there for several minutes, test-firing various muscles and dreading the moment when I would have to stand. Nothing seemed to be broken, and nothing hurt so badly that a shot of medicinal whisky wouldnt cure it. My clothes were soiled and crumpled from the night on the deck chair, and once my nose started working again I would probably find that I stank as well. I sat up too fast and everything blurred. The dog began barking in colourful, pulsing rainbows. When the dizziness subsided, I explored the back of my head with my fingers and found a tender, grazed lump. It wasnt quite as big as a cricket ball, but it sure as hell felt like it had been batted through an entire Ashes series. My eyes felt bloodshot and swollen, as if my headache had overflowed into them. The dog watched as I put on a free slapstick show learning how to walk all over again. It cocked its head and yo-yoed its tongue while I kept snatching for invisible support ropes. But I showed it in the end. The dog couldnt top my walking trick, so it trotted off with all four on the floor. I patted my pockets and made out the familiar bulges of my wallet and keys. A small relief after all Id been through. I wandered through the streets until I found a pay phone and called for a taxi. I sat on the kerb, blinked once or twice, and then the taxis horn was waking me up. I told the cabbie to nudge me when we reached St. Kilda. In my dream I was in a torture chamber, tied to a hard chair. COLDER THAN BLOOD 141 ED ROWE

Warren and Lucas kept shaking the chair. Kurt Druckers moustache floated before my eyes as he shouted homophobic obscenities in my face. My teeth began to rattle. Drucker reached for my chattering teeth with his pliers, and then he disappeared and it was just the cabbie shaking my shoulder. There was a parking ticket on my car windscreen, which I crumpled up and tossed into the backseat. From the mirror, a human wreck peered back at me. The steel band of my headache intensified when I started the car. I survived the long trip home it only took an eternity or two to get there making a pit stop at a drive-through bottle shop to buy a slab of beer and a bottle of cheap whisky. The attendant gave my injuries a suspicious look; I gave him his money and a dont ask scowl. Back at my apartment complex, I parked too close to my neighbours Cadillac. Old Mr. Scott would just have to catch the bus until I woke up some time next year. I hefted my drinking supplies and locked the car. I was going to get drunk, and God help anybody who tried to stop me. An elderly voice stopped me. I want a word with you, Marsh. It was Mrs. Vanguard from apartment seven. She stood at the door to the common washroom, peering up at me out of a face as wrinkled and sour as a gherkin. Ive reached my final straw with you, she declared. Mrs. Vanguard was our designated grouch. Every block of apartments has one. Theyre the lonely, bitter husks of humanity that the world has forgotten. They have nobody left to pay attention to them, so their only remaining option is to be a pain in the arse to everybody else. The whole block lived in fear of Mrs. Vanguard. Every slight deviation from her impossible standards soon became a cause to be championed, a complaint to be lodged, a flag to be waved indignantly in her neighbours faces to prove that her opinions still mattered. I didnt need this now. Reach it some other time. Im busy. I am telling you for the last time, Marsh, I will not tolerate such terrible noise. I have told you and told you that I expect a quiet environment after eight in the evening. So what? I kept walking, but she moved out of the doorway to block me. Her face pinched up in that bird-like squint she had. My poor cats could not sleep with that racket going on last night. They are most distressed today. I have told you and told you that there are to be no loud parties in this COLDER THAN BLOOD 142 ED ROWE

Get your cats some earplugs then. Anyway, I wasnt home last night. Dont you dare lie to me, Marsh! I know you think Im old and senile, but I saw those friends of yours go into your apartment, and I heard the dreadful carrying on you all made. Banging walls and thumping Lord knows what until all hours of the night. She wagged a finger at me. You can be sure Ill be informing the landlord about this latest outrage. Such unruly behaviour will not be allowed to Suddenly I registered what she was saying. I dropped the slab of beer and it crashed to the ground. Mrs. Vanguard yelped with alarm, momentarily silenced. I sprinted to my apartment as she stood there gaping. The door had been jimmied. Splinters around the frame showed where the lock had been forced. I hit the door at a run and thundered into the apartment, gripping the whisky bottle by the neck to use as a club. The place had been ransacked. Nobody in the living room or kitchen. I raced into the bedroom and saw more destruction. The bathroom had also been vandalised. I lowered my makeshift weapon. Drucker and his boys were gone, but they had left their mark. My headache resumed with a sudden rush that slammed into my brain like a nail. My mouth tasted sour and I felt like throwing up. I needed beer. I put the whisky on my desk and went out to retrieve the slab. Mrs. Vanguard ambushed me the moment I stepped outside. Ill have you booted out this time, Marsh! she screeched. Ive put up with your inconsiderate behaviour for way too long, and Ill be telling the landlord I snapped. Damn it, cant you just shut up and leave me alone for once? Mrs. Vanguard looked aghast. I will not! How dare you Save it, I said, suddenly weary. I picked up my slab of beer; fortunately none of the cans had burst. Look, Mrs. Vanguard, Im sorry if Ive upset you, but Ive had a rough night. I just need to be left in peace right now. Okay? She thrust her beak at me, squawking, You dont fool me with your crocodile apologies, Marsh. When Im through telling the landlord about this latest indignity, youll be evicted for certain, do you hear me? Listen, those men you saw last night were crooks, I told her. They broke into my apartment looking for me. I wasnt there, so they COLDER THAN BLOOD 143 ED ROWE

trashed the place. Mrs. Vanguards eyes narrowed. Crooks! What? I dont understand. I promise Ill explain it to you later after Ive sorted things out. But there was no chance of that. Youre a disgrace to this community, Marsh, she said, her voice rising in that shrill, signature nagging tone she had. I always knew you were nothing but a drunken, unemployed scoundrel, and if that werent bad enough, now youre telling me that youve brought criminals into our neighbourhood? I wont tolerate it, do you hear me? I will not tolerate it! Id tolerated enough myself. Maybe you didnt hear me before, Mrs. Vanguard. Those men broke into my apartment. I gave her a hard stare; a malicious little idea had just occurred to me. And Ill bet you just stood at your window and watched. Dont you know that its against the law to stand by and do nothing while a crime is being committed? I was making it up to scare her, but I made it sound convincing. She blanched. Thats ridiculous! I Did you even bother to call the police? Of course not. I thought they were your Then that makes you an accessory after the fact, Mrs. Vanguard. You allowed those men to commit a crime unchallenged. In the eyes of the law, that makes you guilty of negligently abetting a felony. I was bullshitting freely now, inventing spontaneous cop-show jargon to befuddle her, and enjoying every moment of it. I squared my jaw at her. Do you know what the maximum penalty for negligently abetting a felony is? She gulped and shook her head. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Five years in prison, I said. Five long years cooped up with murderers and bank robbers and thieves. No cats allowed. This is ridiculous! she said in a panicky voice. I had no idea those men were breaking in. I I thought you let them in. I cant be held accountable for that. I lowered my voice to its most ominous tone. Thatll be for the courts to decide, Mrs. Vanguard. Maybe youll go to jail and maybe you wont, but Ill tell you this: if you dont stop bothering me right now, then your name is going to feature prominently in my complaint to the COLDER THAN BLOOD 144 ED ROWE

police. Her face turned so pale that her wrinkles stood out in bas-relief. You you wouldnt dare! The hell I wouldnt! Theyll lock you up and sell your cats to a cannery! Now if you know whats good for you, just shut up and leave me alone! Mrs. Vanguard squawked one last cheep of alarm and then retreated to the safety of her apartment. I grinned to myself as I lugged the beer back inside. We all need to unleash a little spite at times, balanced out later by remorse. I locked the broken door as best I could and wedged a chair up under the doorknob. The sight of the destruction gave me a renewed headache. I tore at the plastic wrapping on the slab with my fingernails, teased a can out, drank half of it in one go, paused for breath, drained the can, and opened another. The headache gave one last hellish screech of persistence and then started to dull. I stored the slab in the fridge and set about inspecting the damage. It was bad. Drawers had been yanked and upturned. My pile of mystery books had been kicked over and trampled on, and the bottle of Wild Turkey Id bought for Benny had been dashed against the wall, leaving broken glass and alcohol everywhere. The TV screen had a big crack in it. The phone was intact though, and the answering machines message light still blinked, so at least they hadnt smashed everything; they probably wanted to be able to call up and gloat. In the bedroom, most of the clothes from my wardrobe had been dumped on the carpet and urinated on. I went for a third beer and assessed the kitchen. Plates, cups, glasses all swept onto the floor and broken. My alfalfa farm had been destroyed, the plastic box twisted out of shape and the sprouts scattered and stomped on. I ground my teeth; somehow that was the worst insult of all. I took the clothes Drucker had soiled out to the communal washroom and loaded them into a machine. Mrs. Vanguard spied on me from her window, cradling a cat in each arm. I felt too weary to even scowl at her. The thought of cleaning up the devastation in my apartment depressed me, but I knew it had to be done right away or Id never feel at home there again. It took me two hours to return the apartment to some semblance of normality, but even then the sense of intrusion still lingered like the after-effects of a rape: an emotional dirtiness that could never be fully scoured clean. COLDER THAN BLOOD 145 ED ROWE

The only damage to the bathroom seemed to be the shower curtain ripped free from the rods. I took a hot, steamy bath and scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from last night. My scratches and bruises stung, but I kept at them with the soap and the scrubber until they shined. I counted twenty-six minor wounds, not including a pair of skinned elbows thrown in for free. I put disinfectant and bandaids on the worst of the cuts, and only winced twice. An exhumed zombie stared back at me from the bathroom mirror. My eyes were flecked with bloodshot webbing and I had a doorknob on the back of my head. Various lumps, nicks, and scrapes kept inviting me to their party and daring me to play the itch game. I scratched one just to see if itd get worse. It did. After putting on fresh clothes, I dumped an inch of instant coffee into one of my few surviving mugs, splashed in some hot water, and drank the sludge with a handful of painkillers. It was still morning; it had been a long day already, and I had no idea how I was going to cope with the rest of it. I sat at my desk and wondered whether to call the cops. The answering machines message light was blinking. I thumbed the button to check the message. Hi Jack, its Crystal. Im just calling to, like, find out how you went with that Needles wacko. Did you learn any more about Kurt Drucker? I guess youre not home yet, huh? Im so dying to know Oh shit! It was the message Crystal had left yesterday. I hadnt deleted it. If Drucker had checked the machine how it went. Anyway, when you get home, give me a call. Im at Duongs place. You can call me on I cut it off and reached for my phone message pad. The previous page had been ripped off unevenly. A chill worked its way down my spine like a parasite burrowing deeper into its host. I fanned the tip of a lead pencil lightly over the top sheet of the message pad, bringing out the faint impressions that had indented through from the previous sheet. Crystals phone number appeared on the page, followed by Duongs full name and address. With horror, I realised that Id left the beer coaster with his details from The Green Triangle on my desk as well. Worse still, in the comments section, somebody had written: Damage control?

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An icy noose tightened around my throat. I dialled Crystals mobile. She picked up on the second ring. Jack? She sounded apprehensive. Good guess. Whats happened? Drucker ambushed me, I said. Things got pretty rough. You and Duong might be in trouble. Where are you now? At home. I just got back from visiting Reverend Hoffman. Why, whats the matter? Her voice trembled. Has something happened to Duong? I hope not. Drucker and his men raided my place last night. They wrote down your phone number from that message you left, and they also copied Duongs address from my notes. What does that mean? Your mobile number wont do them much good, but Duong could be in danger. My God! Heres what I want you to do. Call Duong now, tell him to get out of his apartment. Then call me back. Sure thing. The phone beeped in my ear. I spent an anxious five minutes pacing the room. A thick curtain of fear drew itself around me, deadening the voice of hope like a soundproofed wall. Everything had gone to hell, the guilty were stalking the innocent, and I was so deeply involved that it was hard to tell on which side of the scales I belonged. The phone jangled like a poked rattlesnake. Oh my God, Duongs not answering. They they must have killed him! Dont panic, I said, although a cold undercurrent of horror was already seeping into my bones. Hes probably just gone out to play pool or steal a car or something. No, no, no, something bad has happened! she said. I can feel it in my heart. Oh God, Jack, how will I ever forgive myself if anythings happened to Duong? Heres the plan, I said. Ill come over and get you. Well drive out to Duongs place together and warn him about Drucker. Everything will be fine. Do you mean that? she asked in a small voice. Do you promise? COLDER THAN BLOOD 147 ED ROWE

Absolutely. Im sure theres nothing to worry about. Okay, Jack. I trust you. I hoped that her faith wasnt misguided; Tess had trusted me too. The clock had just ticked off midday by the time I pulled into Crystals driveway. The smell of pending rain hung in the air, the sun already swallowed up by a grey swarm of storm clouds. Long shadows touched the house like dark fingers feeling for a throat to strangle. Crystal swung open the door and cast herself into my arms. Jack, thank God youre here, she cried. I stroked her slender shoulders as she shuddered against my chest. She looked tired, but her hair smelled of peaches and sunshine, and she wore a lacy pink dress that made her seem both shy and seductive. I wanted to kiss her, but now wasnt the time. We can thank God later. Lets head over to Oh, youre hurt! she cried, seeing my injuries. Concern showed in her face. Her fingers explored the bump on my head. I eased her hand away. Dont worry about that now, I said. Right now, we have to get over to Duongs place. Okay? She stiffened. What if hes not okay, Jack? What if Hell be fine, Crystal. I detached myself and hurried to the car. Lets go. Neither of us felt like talking as I sped towards Collingwood. A sense that time was running out began to throb in my guts. The clouds that had been threatening rain all day finally broke open, dispatching fat, heavy drops that drummed against the cars roof with metronomic fury. Crystal tried calling Duong again on her mobile: still no answer. I drove fast despite the downpour. Crystals lips were pressed together in a grim, trembling line. I was tense too. Id already seen how rough Drucker and his boys could play, and this wasnt rugby with rules. I jammed the car up against the narrow kerb of Duongs street and we ran through the rain, Crystal gripping my hand. Duongs red Datsun sat rusting in its parking bay. Two bored-looking boys squatted in the stairwell, bouncing a tennis ball back and forth as they waited for the rain to stop. I stared up at Duongs apartment. No lights on, drapes closed. Feeling a cold sense of dread, I led Crystal past the kids and up the stairs until we stood before the door to apartment thirty-two. I knocked hard and waited. Crystal clutched my arm, her fingernails biting. No answer. I tried the door, but it was locked. COLDER THAN BLOOD 148 ED ROWE

Do you have a key? I asked Crystal. Her face fell. Yes, but I forgot to bring it. Im sorry, Jack, Ive been so, like, in a mess since you called, that I just didnt think. She pulled me closer. Jack, Im scared! What if Duongs Hell be fine, I told her, not quite believing it myself. The locked apartment had an unearthly stillness about it that sent a chill squirming down my neck. But what if something terrible has happened? Her eyes filled with pain. He was going to finish his studies and get a good job so he could send money back to Vietnam to support his family. He was he was going to take me there to meet She sniffed back her tears to keep them from all splashing out in a rush. Whos whos going to tell his parents? I didnt have a whole lot of experience with comforting hysterical females, but I knew all about taking action. I pounded on the door again. Duong! Open up, its Jack and Crystal! The only reply was from one of the kids downstairs yelling, The slopes not home, dickhead! I restrained myself from shouting back a politically correct response and looked at Crystal. Stand back. Im going to break the door down, okay? Okay. I unleashed a powerful front kick, slamming my heel into the flimsy wood above the lock. The frame splintered and the door shuddered open and crashed against the wall. Downstairs, the foul-mouthed kids paused in their ball throwing. Wait here, I told Crystal, and stepped inside the darkened apartment. The living room was small and compact, with only a card table and some directors chairs for furniture. I turned on the light and saw grimy walls, a frayed carpet, budget curtains. A connecting door led off to the bedroom. Not a whisker of Duong. There was a smoky, acrid odour that smelled like roast pork gone bad. Duong? I called. No answer. Im scared, Jack, Crystal said right in my ear, making me jump. Damn it, Crystal! I told you to stay put. I know, but She tilted her head. Oh, no! What? Thats Duongs wallet. She pointed to a slim black square on the kitchen counter. He never goes anywhere without it. Oh my God, COLDER THAN BLOOD 149 ED ROWE

something terrible has happened, I just know it has. Her hand flew to her lips to stifle a sob. Things were looking grimmer by the minute. We went through the connecting door and into the bedroom. The pork-like smell was stronger in here. A double bed had been wedged into the tight space between the walls, and a dark lump lay motionless on it. I found the light switch and flicked it on with a knuckle. Crystal screamed. Her body thumped the carpet as she fainted. I barely noticed. I was too busy staring at the thing on the bed. Duong Nguyens arms and legs had been tied to the bedposts. He was naked, gagged with a pair of socks stuffed into his mouth. On the nightstand beside him, an electric clothes iron had been plugged into a power socket. It was still connected, hot and hissing steam. The soles of Duongs feet were blistered and raw. His calves and thighs were bright red. I shuddered when I saw where the worst burns were. His throat had been slashed, and the sheets around his head were crimson with dried blood. His open eyes scowled their last eternal challenge at the dusty ceiling. I helped Crystal off the floor, carried her back to the living room, and sat her on one of the directors chairs. The fresh air coming through the broken door was a godsend after the stink of death and burnt flesh. Crystal sat there gasping like a beached goldfish, her lower lip hanging loose and forgotten. I held her in my arms and she shook violently against me. Later, I tracked down Duongs old rotary phone, dialled triple-O, and asked for the police.

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Chapter Seventeen
he police station was an old building with faded red bricks and tiny windows. The rain had begun to let up, but I was reluctant to go inside. My hands wouldnt stop twitching. Constable Baden, the uniform whod driven me here, looked just as shaky as I felt. He offered me a pack of cigarettes from the patrol cars glove box and I bummed a smoke for the first time in years, coughing my way right down to the filter. It went some way towards getting the scorched smell from Duongs apartment out of my mind, but not far enough. A hipflask full of whisky would have done a more thorough job. Craig Baden was a young, friendly cop, barely out of the academy, with peach fuzz growing on his upper lip. Hed been first on the scene, and he still looked as though he was struggling to hold onto his lunch. I figured his mother would be ironing his shirts for a while. Crystal had left earlier with Badens partner to see a doctor for shock, while Id stayed behind with Baden until the forensics team had arrived. Was he a mate of yours? he asked now as we sat in the car smoking and staring out at the drizzle. His voice leaked a few last unconquered drops of English accent. I thought about it. No, I said. But I was starting to like him. Nasty way to get done in, he said, shuddering. He sucked at his cigarette hungrily, as if the price might go up next month. Yeah. Duongs dead, I thought, my guts churning. Yesterday he was alive, and today hes nothing but a bag of meat. Emotions of guilt and horror surged inside me, crashing against my nerves like storm waves pounding a ship. I knew that I couldnt afford to get swept away by them, or the panic would start and my self-control would collapse entirely. We finished our cigarettes and Baden led me inside, up a flight of stairs and along a short, busy corridor to an interview room. There was a bare wooden table with several hard-backed chairs. The rooms single window gave a commanding view of an airshaft. I fidgeted for a few minutes while Baden went for coffee. He returned with a steaming mug, took a small bottle of rum from his pocket, and when I nodded, added a generous dose. Two sugars, wasnt it? he said with a wink. Youre a champ, Craig. COLDER THAN BLOOD 151 ED ROWE

Well, Id better get my nose back to the grindstone, Jack. He gave me a dour look. Grind away until I get that smell out of my nostrils. Good luck. We shook hands. Wait here, he said. A detective should be along any minute now. And out he went: the first decent cop Id ever met. I stirred my doctored coffee with my thumb and drank a healthy gulp. I could hear the rain outside, pouring down on the mortal world like so much wet misery. I finished my drink and toasted the window with the empty cup. Heres to you, Duong, I said. For what its worth, Im sorry. The rain trickled its sullen reply. An hour and a half later, I was so impatient that I was considering hanging myself with my shoelaces just for something to do. Finally, the door swung open. Detective Constable Gars looked like a mean drunk whod bludgeoned his way through a hangover and come out the worse for it. Veins snaked across his nose like subcutaneous worms. He crunched his thick eyebrows into a scowl. Well, well, he said. The smart-arse. He was chewing gum. Well, well, I said. The arse. Gars turned a key in the door, locking it. Not a good sign. Time Im done with you, buddy, he said, youre gonna be mincemeat. He slammed a plastic folder and a portable tape recorder onto the table and stood over me, his hairy forearms showing. Mincemeat, he repeated. I sat there glaring steadily back at him. He held it a good thirty seconds before scratching the stubble under his chin and looking away. Got nothing to say for yourself, punk? Bring in the real cops. Ive got nothing to say to you. Sure you do. Garss gut resembled a corpse floating above the water line of his belt. This Nguyen stiff, for instance, he said, pronouncing it Na-goo-yen. You kill him? He chewed his gum with aggressive chomps. The stiff, I said icily, happened to be a good bloke. Corpse, then. Deceased. Dearly bloody departed. He waved his hand dismissively and smacked his gum. Whyd you kill him then, if he was such a saint? That didnt deserve an answer. Gars poked my chest with a hard finger. I asked you a question, buddy! COLDER THAN BLOOD 152 ED ROWE

Is that what it was? I thought youd farted. He reddened, his scalp radiating heat through its sparse shield of hair. Youll answer my questions, buddy, whether you want to or not. Little Miss Pearls not here to save your scrawny butt this time. Today, you answer to me. Ill try not to use any big words. Youre one smart-arse crack away from a black eye, punk. He turned so that I could see the nightstick attached to his belt. Yeah, well youd know all about arse cracks, Gars, I said, gesturing at his ample backside. You got a wide load permit for that thing? His eyes shone hatred. His hand edged towards the nightsticks handle, but he managed to rein it in. Stop cracking wise and start telling me what I want to hear. Or Ill stuff you in a cell for a month on suspicion and dedicate all my waking hours to breaking you down. Free bed and food, and I get to insult you all day as well? Whats the catch? Gars shot me a shrewd look. Dont think that I cant see through your bluster, buddy. You think youre putting on a brave front, but I can see the guilt tearing away at your guts. Why not make it nice and easy for everyone? Go ahead, get it off your chest. Tell me why you killed the gook, youll feel better. I ought to report that racist remark to your superiors, I said. Im sure they wouldnt approve of Shut up! He smacked his palm on the table. It must have stung, but he didnt let it show. The only thing youll be reporting is your confession! I sighed. Give it a rest, Gars. Im too tired for the tough TV cop routine. Poor little Jack is too tired, he mocked. He snorted derisively. Just you, me, and God in this room, buddy. And Gods turning a blind eye today, you follow? He walked around behind me and put his heavy hands on my shoulders. Ill get my answers one way or another, buddy, he whispered harshly in my ear. One way or another. Get your hands off me, I said between clenched teeth, or Ill break them off. Threatening an officer now, are you? He removed his weight from my shoulders. Go on then, take your best shot. See what it gets you. COLDER THAN BLOOD 153 ED ROWE

My best shot would kill you, I said, not bothering to look at him. Youre not even worth my second best. Gars gave a nasty laugh. He patted my shoulders twice and then snapped a finger against the side of my neck. It stung, but hed already moved back around the table before I could do anything about it. I resisted the urge to rub the sore spot. At the other end of the table, Gars flicked through his notepad. Guess what Ive been doing while you were waiting, he said. Ballet dancing in a pink tutu? Been having a nice little chat with your tart friend Crystal. He leered as if hed just thought of something amusing. Had a lot to say about you, she did. Is that a fact? Gars displayed a set of tiny sharp teeth that had probably once been white. His chewing gum was tucked into the side of one fat cheek. She told me why you did it, buddy, he announced. You killed Nguyen to get him out of the way so you could make a grab for Crystal. He sneered triumphantly. The broad already dobbed you in, you follow? Your only chance is to confess now and try to cop a plea. I laughed. Youll have to try harder than that, Detective. I know a fishing expedition when I see one. His expression turned crafty. Think so, do you? He patted the tape recorder hed brought in. This might convince you otherwise Youre bluffing. Thats just a prop. His finger hovered over the Play button. Last chance to tell your side of the story, punk. His expression darkened. Once I push this button, all deals are off. Go ahead, I said. Shoot your blanks. Gars gave me one last sneer and then stubbed Play with his fat finger. Crystals voice tinny and distorted, but definitely her voice filled the room. Gars had been holding a full house after all. I could hardly believe what I was hearing: Crystal: I kissed Duong goodnight and went home, and... and he was fine. And then this morning the phone, like, rang and woke me up, and it was him.

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Gars: By him, you mean Jack Marsh? Crystal: Yes sir, thats right. He wanted to meet me, but he wouldnt say why. He drove me to this, you know, deserted parking lot and... and... Gars: Cmon honey, you can tell your old buddy Gars. The sound of Gars trying to be gentle would have made me laugh if the situation hadnt been so dismal. I wasnt game to look at him across the table, but I could feel the heat of his steady stare. I was speechless with confusion. Why was Crystal lying? Crystal: And then he... he put his hands all over me! He kept trying to kiss me and grab my boobs, even though I said no, and he wouldnt let up. He kept saying I was his now. Gars: Did the bastard rape you? Crystal: No, but he would have. would have! I swear he

There was a moment of silence on the tape. In front of me, Gars cracked his knuckles meaningfully. His voice on the tape was thick: Gars: What happened next? Crystal: I... I pushed him away and told him it was Duong I loved, not him. And Jack went cold. I mean, like, really cold. He started driving again. I was terrified! Gars: He drove you to the Nguyen apartment? Marsh drove you to the Nguyen apartment? Crystal: Yes, thats right. COLDER THAN BLOOD 155 ED ROWE

Gars: He knew where to go already without asking? Crystal: Yes sir. Gars: Then what did he do? Crystal: He dragged me up the stairs to Duongs apartment. He kicked the door open and yanked me inside and Duong was... he was... Gars: Dead, yeah I know. I saw the stiff. So what did Marsh do then? Crystal: He... he told me he loved me and that I... that no yellow skunk was going to get in the way of true love. He said hed killed Duong as a... as a gift to prove his love! And if I didnt... if I didnt do what he wanted, hed... hed... Gars: There, there, honey. will take care ofGood old Gars

Gars switched off the recording and gave me a penetrating look of contempt. I had that prickly, nauseating sensation of pseudo-guilt that comes when you know youre innocent of the crime that youre being accused of, but your body chemistry decides youre in deep shit nonetheless. I forced myself to look at Gars. His face was flushed, his nostrils flaring. Well, buddy, he said between gritted teeth. What you got to say about that? Shes lying. I have no idea why, but shes lying. Then how about this, Gars said. Dispatcher got an anonymous phone call this morning. Bloke said hed overheard you at the pub boasting about your plan to iron out the Asian invasion. I got that on tape too, buddy. Thats two witnesses against you now, you follow? He rapped his knuckles on the table sharply. What you got to say for COLDER THAN BLOOD 156 ED ROWE

yourself now, punk? That anonymous call must have been Kurt Drucker telling fibs. Oh really? Well heres what I think, smart-arse. He counted off points on his fingers. Youre the one who was all over the scene of the crime. Not just today, but in the Hinley case as well. Youre the one who killed the Nguyen punk, and youre the one who killed the girl. Youre the one whos lying. Another point and his thumb would have made a clean sweep. Instead, he rolled up his points into a solid fist. Youre guilty as hell. Thats what I think. I let him think it. I scratched my cheek and faked a yawn. Do you think this is amusing? he shouted. I thought you were doing all the thinking, I said. But inwardly, my brain was burning with questions. Why had Crystal set me up? I could understand Drucker trying to frame me, but Crystal? It didnt make sense. Unless A chilling thought wriggled around in my brain: what if Crystal and Drucker were in on this together, both conspiring to pin the murder on me like the tail on the proverbial donkey? Gars slammed his hand onto the table. Start talking, punk! Youve heard the evidence against you; youre done for and you know it. The sooner you confess, the sooner we can get this over with, you follow? He watched me expectantly, a nervous hunger flickering at the corners of his eyes. And that was when I realised: Gars already knew Crystals story was a lie. But hed put on an act anyway, just because he hated my guts, hoping Id crack like an eggshell under the pressure of his evidence and admit to something I hadnt done. Piss off, Gars, I said. Youve got nothing and you know it. Ive got all the evidence I need to hang you with, buddy. Right here in black and white. He patted the tape recorder. Gars, master of the metaphor. It was time to call his bluff. Ive had enough of this foolishness. Either charge me with something or Im walking out of here. Youre not going anywhere, punk, not until youve told me what I want to hear. Go ring a phone sex service then. For five dollars a minute, theyll tell you what you want to hear, big boy. Gars reddened. Think youre real clever, dont you? Youll have plenty of time to practise your wisecracks on the butch boys in prison. COLDER THAN BLOOD 157 ED ROWE

Now start confessing! I sighed; enough was enough. He wasnt worth wasting the wit on. Maybe if I waited him out, hed deflate like a fat balloon. I studied my fingernails and didnt respond. He reddened further. Im talking to you, punk! There was a small grain of dirt under one of my nails. I picked it out and flicked it onto the floor. I would probably need a manicure in about a week. Gars growled and shoved the table forward. It screeched across the floor and the edge rammed into my stomach. He shouted, Im warning you! If I dont hear a confession by the time I count to five, Im going to work you over like a dogs chew toy. He touched the truncheon clipped to his belt. You follow? I exaggerated a yawn of boredom. His lips twitched dangerously. Alright, punk, you asked for this. He unfastened the strap holding his nightstick. One Two He had to use his fingers to count; it was a good thing he wasnt going past ten. Three Four Well, whats it going to be, smart guy? Five, I said dryly. If I remember correctly. Gars drew out his nightstick and hefted the heavy black tool in his hand. He punished his chewing gum with powerful, angry grinds of his teeth. Suspect was overcome with remorse, he said in a mock writingthe-report voice, and bashed his own face repeatedly against the wall. He chuckled. I like it. He slammed the stick into the table. It made a dull thud. Now start talking! Start asking proper questions then, I said. If you know how. He sneered and walked casually around the table again. The nightstick slid smoothly across my cheek from behind. It was black and looked well polished. He curled the stick under my chin and I felt its cold slickness against my skin. Youll tell me what I want to hear, he hissed, or Ill Without warning, he jammed the nightstick into my throat. I gagged, tried to struggle. And then, just as quickly, he released the chokehold and shoved me away. He strolled back around to the other side of the table and leered at me. Feeling more cooperative now, punk? I couldnt believe hed actually done it. I coughed a few times to clear my throat. It felt like a walnut had lodged in there. Sure. Ill be cooperating with internal affairs to have you booted off the force. My COLDER THAN BLOOD 158 ED ROWE

voice sounded a bit croaky, but I got it out okay. You think you got a real smart mouth, dont you? he said. He slammed the stick against the table again. Ive put away plenty of scumbags over the years thought they had smart mouths. Now they got toothless mouths, you follow? Go to hell, Gars. You dont scare He lashed out across the table with the nightstick. It struck me on the elbow, right on the funny bone, and I yelped. Now talk! he roared. My arm tingled like crazy and it took all my self-control to stay in my seat. Sure, Ill talk, I said. I hoisted my middle finger at him. In sign language. His complexion reddened again. Dont you crack wise with me, punk! He did his truncheon-slamming trick again and started edging around the table towards me. Sit down! he shouted as I made a move to get to my feet. Youre not going anywhere. He planted one sweaty hand on my shoulder from behind. Mongrels like you, he began, just make me want to I sensed the sudden downswing of his arm. I twisted in my chair, tearing free from his grip. The nightstick swished past my face as I stood up fast and seized his wrist. I pushed him off balance and jerked his arm up sharply behind his back. Gars cried out in pain as I strained his tendons to the limit. He still held the nightstick in his captive hand; its tip prodded the back of his head. I yanked it loose and tossed the weapon onto the floor. This assaulting an officer! he managed to sputter as he fought against the submission hold. I didnt want to break his arm, so I dug two fingers into the folds of his fat neck and pinched a special nerve near the jugular. He winced and stopped struggling instantly. Shut up, I hissed in his ear. Youre a bully, Gars. How you got on the force I have no idea, but if you ever try anything like this again, Ill see to it that youre finished as a cop. Let go of me! Ill I tweaked the nerve again and his face scrunched up into agonised ridges. I told you to shut up. Im tired and Im pissed off, and a good man has just been murdered. Now if you want to play Dirty Harry, then Im There was a hurried knock on the door. Detective? someone called. The doorknob rattled. COLDER THAN BLOOD 159 ED ROWE

Listen up, Gars, I said in a low voice. Heres the deal. Back off now and well call it square. Ill even let you keep the free licks you got in today. But if you want to make a road show of it, then Ill make sure you get dragged down for police brutality. We can share a cell together and play checkers all day. I heard keys clattering in the lock. I loosened the arm hold and shoved him away. He stumbled across the room off balance, then turned to face me, his eyes venomous. Just then the door flew open and Detective Sergeant Pearl came in at a run, with two male officers behind her. What the hell is going on in here? she demanded. He assaulted me! Gars yelled, panting hard like a fish trying to evolve. Im not surprised, Pearl said, quivering with anger. Damn it, Gars, you promised you wouldnt lose control. That punk kept baiting me! Garss face looked so red I felt like calling for a heart surgeon. A strand of snot stuck to his lip where hed snorted it out like a bull in a scarlet fury. Ill kill the dirty Get him out of here until he cools off, Pearl ordered. The two men flanked Gars and led him to the door. I couldnt resist. So long, buddy, I said. Gars roared and struggled to pull free of his colleagues, but they held onto him and dragged him outside. He clamped one hand on the doorframe and jerked his head at me. Youd better pray, he warned in a tone full of menace. Pray that I dont get the evidence I need. Every day and twice on Sunday. The officers hauled him out of the interview room. Pearl closed the door on his receding curses. Are you okay, Jack? Did he injure you? Therell be a few bruises tomorrow. Nothing serious. Good. She slumped into a chair and sighed. I apologise for Detective Constable Garss behaviour. Hes a good cop, but sometimes when a case isnt going well, his frustration gets the better of him. Gars doesnt belong on the force, I said, sitting opposite her. Hes a caveman. He should be sacked before he really hurts someone. She looked at me. It wont happen again, Jack, trust me. We have our own internal methods for disciplining and counseling our officers. A slap on the wrist, huh? Dont be like that, Jack. She kneaded her eyebrows as if she had a COLDER THAN BLOOD 160 ED ROWE

headache. The flush of vengefulness had faded. Okay, Ill let it go, I said. Just keep him out of my face though, or I will flatten him, badge or no badge. Pearl looked up. And Im sure youd do a decent job of it too, she said, with that Mona Lisa smile of hers. I took my first proper look at her. She wore a sleek black dress and sprinkles of eye glitter. Her fingernails were painted magenta with little silver sequins stuck to them. The makeup gave her a sort of rosy softness that hadnt been there on our last meeting. I guessed shed been at a party when the call came. I said, Hey Pearl, looking pretty today. Instant scowl. And what is that supposed to mean? Its called a compliment. I added a smile to prove it. The frown turned frostier. How typical. Just because I like to wear nice clothes, it doesnt mean I want men waving their hard-ons at me. Id been through too much today to be intimidated by Pearls oversensitivity. In that case, I take back what I said. Your dress looks like an Op Shop throwaway and Ive seen prettier makeup on a drag queen. Is that better? She took it like a slap to the cheek. Her mouth formed a circle of disbelief. I didnt care. Duong was dead, Gars had socked me, and I was way too sober. Walking on eggshells for political correctness wasnt high on my list of Things To Do just then. Because if youre going to assume that everything that comes out of my mouth is a sexist insult, I continued, then I might as well forget about friendly social conversation and just live up to the stereotype instead. I made a show of beating my chest and whooping like an ape. Pearl blushed. Some of my pointed message must have punched through her crust. Okay, forget about it, she said brusquely. She turned the full force of her stare on me, all cop again. Tell me what happened to Duong Nguyen. He was tortured to death. Crystal and I found his body. Im aware of that. What else? I think I know who killed him. Pearl looked at me very hard. Who? Kurt Drucker. The drug dealer? Her eyebrows lifted. Youre sure of this? COLDER THAN BLOOD 161 ED ROWE

Not a hundred percent, but hes definitely the favourite. How do you know about Drucker anyway? Her pupils shrank to needle points. You kept investigating, didnt you? After I told you to stop. You mustnt have told me loudly enough. Damn it, Jack! Duong Nguyen is dead because you didnt do what you were supposed to. Muscles tightened along my jaw. Do you think I dont realise that? Pearl glared at me for a long minute. It was the longest, soberest, most uncomfortable minute of my life. Okay, she said eventually, and sighed. Youd better tell me everything. Her voice was still tight, but she seemed to be making an effort to loosen it. I couldnt resist baiting her. Well for a start, youre cute when youre angry. Jesus Christ, Jack! she yelled. A man is dead! This is no time for jokes. She was right, of course. Duong was dead and there was nothing funny about that. But how I chose to cope with death was my business, and if wisecracks could keep the shivers away, then bring on the comedy. At least Pearl hadnt pulled out a gun and pistol-whipped me for unlawful chauvinism. Alright, I said, here it comes, try not to spill it. I gave her an edited version: learning that Tess had taken drugs; how Duong and Crystal had put me onto Needles; Druckers ambush; the tip, the break-in, the whole bloody mess. I didnt mention the fight Id had with Duong at the pub. So you already knew Kurt Druckers whereabouts when I spoke to you on the phone yesterday? Pearl said, sounding hurt. And you didnt tell me. You didnt ask. Her lips thinned. If youd been honest with me, Drucker would be locked up by now and the Nguyen boy would still be alive. I realise that now, I said bitterly. I did what I thought was right at the time. She simply stared at me. There was no heat in it, just a sense of plain, total disappointment, and somehow that was worse than any words of abuse she could have hurled. My face drooped so low it felt like it COLDER THAN BLOOD 162 ED ROWE

was sagging right off my skull. As I went over my story again and again, I could feel the anxiety collecting inside me in my lungs, in my throat, at the back of my teeth all building to a great crescendo of pressure that ached to be released. I swallowed it down. I will not give in to weakness, I told myself, not now, not in front of Pearl. It took two and a half hours. I did my blabbing and Pearl listened to the blabs. I filled up three audiocassette tapes and drained countless cups of coffee. Finally, Pearl told me to wait and left the room. I spent several minutes counting through my mistakes until I ran out of fingers and toes. She returned with a folder clasped under her arm, looking thoughtful. Heres something, she said. Preliminary forensics report. That quick? Just the first impressions. She opened the report and showed me a page choked with jargon. One note read: Second and third degree burns to lower body and genitalia. Victim bled out through deep laceration to left carotid artery, consistent with See here, Pearl said, and pointed to another section of the report. I looked, but only saw a load of technical waffle about compound elements and serration signatures. Its all gibberish to me, I said. What does it mean? It means, she said ominously, that the knife which killed Duong Nguyen is the same knife that was used on Tess Hinley. I was impressed. How the hell can you know that? The shape of the wound, various serration marks resulting from tiny nicks and flaws in the blade, that sort of thing. Sometimes there are minute traces of metal left behind from the knife. She tapped the page. Every weapon leaves a unique fingerprint, and prints can be matched. So far these findings appear to match the trace evidence from Tesss file. So the same person killed both of them? Too early to tell. The detailed forensics report will give a better indication. But yes, the preliminary comparison suggests that the same weapon was used in both attacks. For now, the lab guys are saying ninety percent certainty. Then if we find the knife, well find the murderer, right? I was COLDER THAN BLOOD 163 ED ROWE

getting excited. Not we, Pearl said. Youre out of it, and this time, youre going to stay out. I opened my mouth to object. Period, she added with finality. I closed my mouth again. She held all the free walk cards, and somehow I didnt think rolling a double would be enough to get my little hat out of jail. Now that youre aware of the importance, I want you to think hard, she said. She held out her hands about forty centimetres apart. Did you see a knife about this long anywhere in Duongs apartment? We havent been able to find it. I shook my head. No. I would have noticed. Youre sure? Her eyes narrowed. Because if I find out later that you concealed evidence, still thinking about pursuing your own I was offended. I said no, didnt I? I put sarcasm into my voice. Id have thought youd be the first to agree that No means No, Detective But she wouldnt quit. Miss Mainwaring told Detective Constable Gars she saw a knife at the foot of the bed. She said it wasnt there when she came to after her faint. Crystal said a lot of things. I indicated the tape recorder Gars had left behind. Whats with that swag of lies Gars played for me anyway? You do realise it was all bullshit, dont you? Pearl looked uncomfortable. She gave a slight nod. Gars only played you the first half. Crystal breaks down later under crossexamination and recants the whole thing. Youre in the clear. I dont get it. Why would Crystal want to get me in trouble in the first place? She was upset and confused. Pearls shoulders drew in defensively. Her boyfriend had just died because you wouldnt leave things alone. I dont blame her for wanting to lash out. She eyed me defiantly. And Gars was probably more than happy to encourage Crystal to blame me, I thought. I want to talk to her, I said. You cant. Shes gone home with a friend. Who? Thats none of your business, she said. Someone trustworthy. COLDER THAN BLOOD 164 ED ROWE

Anyway, if I were you, Id stay away from Crystal. Youre not her favourite person at the moment. My mouth tasted sour. I couldnt bear the idea of Crystal hating me. I wanted to hold her and let her pound my chest with her little fists until shed worn out all her anger and eroded away all my guilt. I looked at my watch. It was after five. How time flies when youre being grilled. Can I go now? I asked. I was bone tired, and my thirst for a drink hadnt diminished. Id already begun mentally listing nearby pubs and bottle shops. Pearl rubbed the back of her neck wearily. Go on then, get out of here. She gave me a severe look. But remember, this amateur investigation of yours is over. Duong Nguyen died because you didnt do what you were told. Her face grew stern. If I find out youre still poking around, I will lock you up, and God help you then. She gave me a long, steady look. Understand? Yeah. I was furious, but I clamped down hard on it. Good. Now piss off. She waved me out dismissively. A taxi took me back to my car. The forensics team had left, and Duongs apartment was sealed up with police tape. The street was quiet and most of the lights in the neighbouring apartments were on. Life returns to normal. I saw Duongs red Datsun and remembered that he had been a bad driver. Well, he would never menace another pedestrian again. The only thing hed be driving now was a felt-lined coffin. I frowned away the ugly thoughts, started my car, and concentrated on finding somebody, anybody, who would sell me a drink.

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Chapter Eighteen
left the pub after last call and staggered back to my car. It was late and the wind jabbed at my face with sharp needles of cold. I was probably too drunk to drive, but I did so anyway, slowly and badly, and somehow made it home without dying. I grabbed the fresh whisky bottle Id purchased at the pub and stumbled into my apartment. The swivel chair beckoned invitingly through the haze. I sat at my desk and turned the bottle in my hands, staring at the murky liquid sloshing within. I had opened hundreds of bottles just like this one. Was alcohol the only constant comfort in life? Lovers leave, old friends grow up and out of sight, strangers breathe through their mouths whenever someone holds out a hand for help. But whisky never says no. Whisky is always there to warm the broken soul. To hell with it. I broke the seal on the bottle. Maybe I really was an alcoholic, but so what if I was? Some people drink God, and some drink their jobs, and some drink frantic, age-defying affairs with younger partners. Other people drink too much junk food, drink too many smokes, or drink the contents of their televisions. Its all drinking, one way or another. I unscrewed the cap. Stared longingly at the easy answer. And then walked decisively to the kitchen, upended the bottle over the sink, and poured all of the whisky down the drain. I let out a ragged sigh. Alcohol wouldnt help me this time. I needed real support. So I did the next best thing: I grabbed the phone. Who the hell is it? Its me. Bloody hell, Jack! Can you even fathom what time it is? What if Id been in mid-thrust with a couple of French bimbos when you Not tonight, Benny. I need help. You can say that again. Psychiatric help. A lot of bad stuff has happened, Benny. Duong Nguyen was tortured to death. Jesus H. Christ, Jack! Youre not bullshitting me, are you? I wish I was. I heard him gulp. Youd better roll it from the beginning. I told him everything Id learned and everything Id done and COLDER THAN BLOOD 166 ED ROWE

everything that had gone wrong. Benny listened patiently, making the right grunts to nudge me along. Im shocked, he said when Id finished. Totally shocked. So what should I do? My voice sounded hoarse. Druckers still out to get me, and the cops would rather lock me up than let me help. Im in way over my head, Benny, and I dont know what to do. What you ought to do, he said, is forget the whole thing. Just drop it. Go to a nightclub, pick up some juicy scrubber, and bang her brains out. Youll be so busy trying to get rid of her gracefully in the morning that you wont have time to think about all this crap. I wasnt in the mood for levity. That wont solve the problem, Benny, I said with annoyance. Well, no, I suppose for a Doberman molester such as yourself, it wouldnt. I could sense his sardonic grin even over the phone. What you should do instead is head over to the local dog pound and pick out a sleek, black, muscular Enough with the Dobermans already! True, true. Youre more of a poodle man now that I think about it. I was on the verge of losing my temper. Benny, Im trying to be serious here. Im in trouble and I need to pick your brain. He sniggered. My mind is going I can feel it he quoted in a robotic tone. Will you quit joking? Im sorry, Dave. I cant do that. Benny! He sighed. Look, Jack, what I really think you need to do is pull the rug on this silly private eye fantasy of yours. Forget about Tess and Duong and Crystal and Drucker. You cant right every wrong in the world. Just lay low and get on with your life. He paused. Let the cops be the heroes, Jack. This is too big for you to handle. I listened to what he was saying, and it stung because he was right. And while youre at it, he added, get a bloody job and stop dole bludging off my taxes. He snickered at his joke, then turned serious again. Mate, its not my place to tell you what to do. I can give you opinions and I can give you an ear, but only you can decide what the answers are. You have to figure it out for yourself. The phone felt like a snake pressed to my cheek. My mind whirred with objections, but at the same time I knew that he was telling me COLDER THAN BLOOD 167 ED ROWE

things I needed to hear, and that he was probably the only person I could tolerate hearing them from. I let it sink in for a moment, and then said, Dude, thats probably the most boringly grownup speech Ive ever heard you make. Hmm. He loosed a long, sonorous belch over the phone. That ought to rectify the situation. I grinned. I can smell it from here. What you smell is the stench of your own anus floating up at you. We both laughed at that one. I said, Do I really have a private eye fantasy? Jack, ever since school, youve been patterning yourself after one tough guy detective or another from that ratty old stack of books you keep collecting. Theyre good books! Benny grunted. Maybe they are, but that doesnt mean you can act like youre walking the same mean streets. Youre not some Bogart hard case with a gun and an attitude, walking the straight line of film noir morality. He put a spoonful of clown into his voice. Youre just a filthy Doberman molester with an attitude, staggering drunkenly out of the pub in a sulk after Ive fleeced you at pool. As I recall, I said, smiling, it was yourself running around the table with your trousers down just last month. It was an old tradition at The Hairy Elephant: anyone who lost a billiard game without sinking a single shot had to run the underpants gauntlet. Benny scoffed. Ha! I threw that game purely in order to show off my package to that blonde chick with the glasses. A likely story. Besides, she didnt seem all that impressed, did she? Maybe you should have padded it with more socks. He laughed. Ah, Jack, he said. Dont get yourself killed, mate, whatever you do. Id miss this. I felt a sudden warm glow of friendship and a lump formed in my throat. I choked it down and replied, Yeah. God knows what unspeakable depravities youd unleash on the Doberman population if I wasnt around to keep you in check. I dont know either. Id have to read your diary for ideas. More shared laughter. Thanks, Benny. I feel better. Are you going to stop chasing coffins now? I dont know, I said. Itd be the smart thing to do. Ill have to COLDER THAN BLOOD 168 ED ROWE

think about it. You? Think? With your peanut-sized brain? Surely you jest? I snorted. Brains are overrated; its charm that pulls the chicks. And youve got about as much charm as a festering boil on the red butt cheeks of a mangy baboon. Silence, fool! Benny cried. You cannot defeat me with insults when you yourself are so hideously repulsive that you must wear a paper bag over your head in public, lest innocent bystanders eyeballs spontaneously explode in disgust. But what about you, sir? I retorted. You whose personal stench is so revolting that when you were born, your mother had to feed you insect repellent instead of breast milk, in an effort to keep the blowflies away. He burst out laughing. Ah, Jack, he said when hed caught his breath. You win that round, mate. But Ill be ready for you with new material next time. Good night, toilet licker, I said. Good night, dung beetle. Vomit cookie. Ball-sweat drinker. Earwax muncher, I said, and hung up before he could get the last word. I grinned; Benny hates not getting the last word. I was beginning to sober up, and on the heels of sobriety came that jittery clarity of the senses that signalled the onset of a hangover. Pretty soon, the headache would follow, and the nausea, and the flu-like muscle ache. Every morning-after, I groan and curse and vow to never again repeat my sins. But the road to hell is paved with broken vows, many of them mine, and only saints and small children get to travel on the bypass. It was time to admit that Id failed. Benny and Pearl were right: I had to give up the case. I was not a detective and I never would be. In the cold light of reality, I was just a dull, desperate, unemployed man, with no money, few friends, and a big hole where my future should have been. Id let myself get caught up in a fantasy of gangster stories and action heroes, and Id made a fool of myself trying to act the part. Fantasy is nothing more than a brief escape from the mundane, a glimpse of an impossibly more interesting world. For the bored housewife, real-life sex seems cumbersome and unfulfilling compared to COLDER THAN BLOOD 169 ED ROWE

the sweat-soaked peaks of adulterous bliss in her Mills and Boon. The scrawny accountant coming out of a thriller movie imagines himself bristling with heroics in a tight situation, and then merely stands frozen in shock and confusion while the mugger plucks his wallet. We scratch and pick at the threads of our ordinary lives, chafing against the uneasy sensation that there should be more, that were somehow missing out on something vital, and so we open our books and we aim our remotes and we slip back into the fantasy realm once again. And if were not careful, if we dont keep reminding ourselves which side of the mirror were on, then we can sometimes forget the way home. A dark melancholy welled up from deep inside me. It was a feeling I knew well, the black sorrow that would only get worse. In the past, Nanna used to stroke my face and sing gentle songs whenever the rough seas came. These days I usually held the tidal wave back with booze. But none of those remedies would work this time. I had to get out of the house. It was almost five a.m. There was an all-hours convenience store a few blocks away; a walk and a coffee might save me. I slid into a woollen parka, locked up, and moved my feet one after the other down the empty street. The night air smelled crisp and untainted. A faint hint of approaching dawn tested the horizon, like a burglar using a hooded flashlight to hunt for valuables. Mist had settled in, and everything looked grainy and moist. The streets were silent, barren; I suddenly felt more alone than Id ever felt in my life. Just keep walking, I thought, and dont stop. Nobody will miss you. Just keep walking until you drop dead. Sure, I had people who cared about me. There was Benny, of course, and Sensei Randall, and Nanna out there in Geelong, all willing to make their sympathetic noises. But that was as far as they could stretch. They couldnt get inside my head and feel the emptiness, or understand the crushing sense of uselessness I often felt. No, there was nobody who could help me, nobody but my own damn self, and Id done a hell of a shitty job of it so far. Is this the way suicides think? I wondered. Should I just leave all my problems behind and embrace the simplicity of death? My hands were shaking. My vision began to grow red around the edges. I reached the top of a hill and stared out into the pre-dawn greyness. I could just make out the lights of the city in the distance, shining like halos through the mist. The city seemed ugly to me now, vulgar, as if it COLDER THAN BLOOD 170 ED ROWE

were a huge decomposing corpse being picked over by vultures jostling each other for scraps. Duong was one of those scraps now, discarded and left for the scavengers. People die, I told myself. Get over it. I was breathing unevenly and the shivering had spread to my shoulders. I could hear my pulse in my temples. Dizziness. All the usual symptoms. My eyes darted around wildly, looking for avenues of escape that werent there. You cant escape from yourself. I moved quickly to the kerb and sat. The images began to invade my mind. I heard myself whimpering, a formless hand of terror squeezing the air from my lungs, as if the memory had coalesced into a tangible physical presence. The pounding in my head grew louder; the gates inside me began to open. I put my head between my knees and braced myself. It was coming Im sixteen again, walking through the old house, calling for my parents. Theyre not answering. Maybe theyre still angry about this morning. Id left for school in a huff, slamming the door behind me to blot out the nagging, left them sitting at the kitchen table with their bacon and eggs, Dads homemade cigarette burning down in the lid of his tobacco tin, Mum in her nightie blinking sleep out of her eyes, both of them on my back about some chore, and Id left without saying goodbye. I find my Mum in the master bedroom. My birth mother died of breast cancer when I was two, but my stepmother has always been my real Mum to me. I find her stretched out on the big bed, mostly, a few bits of her on the floor. Shes been torn apart with a knife, shredded, her guts pulled out like a cats cradle. The amount of blood is unbelievable. The carpet squishes under my feet as I back out of the room. I run through the house, searching frantically for my father. He isnt answering either. My eyes are bugging out and my head feels frozen with confusion. He has to be okay! Oh, God, please let my Dad be okay! Hes in the living room. Propped up in his easy chair, one slash across his throat, deep, his head lolling and almost severed, oh God no, not my Dad, no, left there like a worn toy drooping its stuffing, oh please, God, no! And waiting for me on the sofa, the naked, hairy stranger, covered in blood, grinning, holding the knife hed butchered my parents with, COLDER THAN BLOOD 171 ED ROWE

gesturing at my father as if showing off a piece of art. He rises from the sofa, the bastard, and he says: Welcome home, Jacky boy! I roar and launch myself at him, punching, flailing my arms, crying, screaming at the top of my lungs, and he cackles and shoves me aside easily, a big man in his twenties with brooding, heavy eyebrows and a pug face. I throw a vase at him, but he bats it aside and it smashes a window. He charges and bears me down to the carpet. He drops on top of me, smelling of sweat and blood and chemicals, pounding my face with his bloodstained fist, kneeling on my upper arms so that I cant move. You like the symphony I played on your folks, Jacky boy? he says, his voice warbling with excitement. I try to ward off his blows, but hes got me pinned. He howls with insane laughter as he hits me. You like? he shouts. You fucking like? He holds the knife to my throat and I know its the end. You want I should do the same to you, Jacky boy? You want to be played like a harp, Jacky boy? Im gasping with terror. I dont know why this is happening. All I know is that Im going to die and that its going to hurt. The man slits my left nostril and I cry out from the pain. My right nostril is next. The cuts sting like salty fire. I clench my teeth to keep from blacking out. I struggle again to get free, but hes too strong and Im only sixteen. He waves the knife in front of my face like a conductor before an orchestra. Hes left-handed. Ah, Jacky boy, youre no fun. I want to hear screams, kid. Screams, not whimpers! He grins, then pumps his arm forward and spears the knife into my belly. My mouth flies open; it is the most incredible pain Ive ever experienced, every nerve fibre vibrating with pain, and as he twists the blade in my guts, I do scream, scream, scream like Ive never screamed before. Now thats more like it! He yanks the knife out and laughs. Youre a natural born singer, Jacky boy. You got talent! Lets hear some more of that sweet music I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the dreadful blade to strike. I can feel my life draining out of me through the rupture in my stomach. The madmans breath smells sour and rank. My own breath has seized up tight in my lungs. Suddenly he freezes. I hear a faint wail of sirens. The police are COLDER THAN BLOOD 172 ED ROWE

coming. A neighbour must have heard my screams through the broken window. I open my eyes. Sons of bitches! the killer yells. He climbs off me and hurries to where hes left his clothes jeans, sneakers, a cheap flannel work shirt and begins struggling into them. I curl into a foetal ball, holding my stomach in with both hands. I can feel blood escaping past my fingers. Hes dressed. He strides over and kicks me in the kidneys and I scream. Thats what I like to hear, Jacky boy! He leers at me. That belly wound wont kill you, but youll be singing that lovely high note for a week. The sirens are getting closer now. He hauls me up by the shirtfront. I got to run, he says, his face inches from mine. So its up to you to let people know what a great performance I done on your folks. His eyes jiggle crazily. Its important that they know. Its important that people get the message. I make a supreme effort, the words just barely a whisper. Eat shit, I say. He gives me the sickly leer again. Youve got balls, kid. I like that. Maybe well even meet again some time, finish our little duet. The smile evaporates. But until that day, heres something else to remember me by, Jacky boy He slashes with the knife and rips my face open to the bone. I scream so loud that my throat is stripped raw. The maniac cackles with glee and releases me. I crumple to the carpet, bleeding, savaged, my body jerking in agonised spasms. So long, Jacky boy, he says. Dont forget me. My fingers no longer work and my stomach is starting to slide out through them. My vision fogs over with a hazy mist of pain. Through the mist I see the killers sneakers clump off towards the back door. I blink and hes gone. The sirens are louder, but theyre too late. Too late for my parents and too late for me. My eyes wont stay open. I can feel my cheek hanging loose and flapping. The pain bears me under, so much pain, as if a demon were forking me down into hell with a trident. So much pain, so much pain I snapped out of it then, came hurtling back from the horror realm of memory. The panic attack was over. My legs were shaking and COLDER THAN BLOOD 173 ED ROWE

rubbery, my breathing fast and uneven. Sweat had popped out all over my body. It had been a bad one. I sat there on the kerb and hugged my knees until the shakes subsided, then clambered to my feet and began walking again. Dawn had almost arrived, the horizon shimmering like an ethereal butterfly trapped between the windowpanes of light and dark. Strength began to ebb back into my muscles as I walked. I picked up my pace and segued into a jog, letting the mindless flow of exercise calm me. A cold knot in my stomach reminded me where the knife had gone in all those years ago. Id been in and out of surgery for a month. My slashed cheek had needed thirty stitches to sew it back together. Back then, Id thought the pain would never stop. Now, as I jogged into the awakening dawn, the cool morning wind brushed lightly against my scar and I felt happy to be alive. Im not some weak-minded flake who cant handle his problems. Sure, I might get a little wobbly at times I still suffer the occasional panic attack now and then, maybe sink a few more whiskies than I should but all in all, I think Im doing pretty damn well for a guy with a head full of bad memories. Ive got my problems, like everyone does, but the one thing I know is that Ill never be broken like that again. They never caught the killer. After the double funeral, my grandmother took me in and raised me. Id struggled like a teenage demon, full of wrath that couldnt be focused and pain that couldnt be soothed. But with love and patience, shed done her best to heal me, and had somehow managed to keep me on the right path. Now I was a man, strong and independent, and I loved my Nanna dearly for everything shed done for me. But some wounds always remain open, no matter how we try to bandage them. Never again. Id made that vow twelve years ago, and I renewed it now. Never give in to weakness. Never let anyone hurt the people you love. Never back down from a fight. I had toughened myself both mentally and physically during those twelve hard years. Id installed strenuous karate training into my muscles. Now I was lean and hard and ready. Never again would I be a victim. Never again. I reached the convenience store, hesitated only a moment, and then kept running, my chin held high. Whatever crutch they were selling, I no longer needed it. I admired the beauty of the dawn as I ran, my lungs COLDER THAN BLOOD 174 ED ROWE

filling with clean, frosty air. I had rediscovered my sense of purpose again, and I felt energised and alive. To hell with Pearl and Benny and anybody else who thought I should just sit around with my mouth open and wait for roast justice to fly in. The best cure for hopelessness is a hero. If all those detective stories Id read over the years had taught me anything, it was that moral self respect is everything. I set my jaw with determination, but I was smiling too. I would not quit. Not now. Not until Id finished this. There were tears on my cheeks, but they were good tears. Id found my mission at last, my reason for being. They were tears of homecoming. The dawn light finally spilled over the horizon, shining brilliantly upon my face like a holy blessing. Maybe it was a sign, a radiant omen of approval from above. Or maybe I was just a fool, plodding blindly towards damnation. Maybe both.

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Chapter Nineteen
ow then, Jack, what can I do for you? Reverend Hoffman asked. We were in his office, facing each other across his wide mahogany desk. I can only give you a few minutes and then Ill need to prepare for the morning service. Thanks, I said. You are of course welcome to join us for the service. He eyed me. Have you ever been to church, Jack? My parents were Christmas and Easter pilgrims. They dragged me along on a leash once or twice, but it never took. Hoffman produced a lukewarm smile. Well, I trust you wont let those stuffy old experiences from childhood stop you from making new friends today. Were quite relaxed here in the group, not at all what you might expect. The smile lifted an extra inch into sales mode. Perhaps now that youre an adult, youll be better able to see the truth of Christianity for yourself, with fresh eyes. Ill consider it. He seemed satisfied with the answer. He cleared his throat and made a businesslike show of gathering up a few loose papers, squaring them into a sheaf, and filing them away in a desk drawer. Now then, he said in a lawyerly tone, I assume youre here because of what happened to Crystals boyfriend. I didnt answer right away. I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling. I wasnt quite sure why Id come here. On the way over, Id been hoping Hoffman might be able to help make sense of Crystals half-hearted attempt to frame me, assuming hed been the trusted friend whod taken her home from the police station. But now that I was here, I realised that I already knew the answers. Id lashed out in much the same irrational way when my parents had been taken from me. Dont worry about Crystal, Hoffman said now, as if reading my thoughts. Shes resting at home for the time being. She will of course be provided with all the spiritual guidance and support she needs to help her through this difficult occasion. He glanced at me with a speculative look. I offer you that same support too, Jack, should you be willing to accept it. Youve also been through a great deal. I was touched by his concern. Id been alone with my thoughts too COLDER THAN BLOOD 176 ED ROWE

long, and they werent nice thoughts. Thanks, Reverend. I appreciate the offer. Hoffman took a breath and put on what he probably considered his deal-closing smile. Id really like you to stay for our service, Jack. Im sure youll feel much better once youre surrounded by loving people who care about you. Im not He held up a hand to stop me. I think youll find that youre pleasantly surprised. Im not the stuffy, bible-thumping stereotype you might think I am. It was a light remark designed to elicit a smile, and it earned one from me now. All I ask, Jack, is that you come along and see for yourself how Gods love has empowered us. If you keep your heart and mind open, He will do the same for you, believe me. Well Trust me, Jack. He held out his hands in an all-encompassing gesture. It will change your life forever. It was easier to just agree. This church thing might not be my cup of hooch, but it wouldnt kill me to sit through an hour or two of yammering. Besides, there was a small chance that one of the Christians might know something about Tess. I said, Okay. He beamed. Thats wonderful, Jack! Youll love the others when you meet them. Youll fit right in, Im certain. Well see. There was a moments awkward silence. Hoffman studied me, his thoughtful eyes picking away at the scabs on my soul with incisive precision. I sense, he said carefully, that whats been missing in your life, Jack, is a feeling of belonging. You have a strong desire to find a cause that you can serve passionately. Would that be an accurate assessment? Who knows? I said gruffly. Hed prodded a nerve. The illumination Id felt at dawn was already starting to fray at the edges, like a desperately clutched dream draining away inexorably upon waking. Life doesnt come with an instruction manual. Its nothing to be ashamed of, Jack. We all need guidance. He spread his hands wide. Right now youre floundering, lost in the barren mountains of uncertainty. What you need is a new direction, a sure and sturdy path to lead you out of despair. He leaned forward, a knot of authoritarian concern twisting his forehead like an exclamation mark. COLDER THAN BLOOD 177 ED ROWE

Gods path, he pronounced. Damn it, I just want to solve the case! I blurted out. Instantly embarrassed, I pressed on in a subdued tone. I want to see justice done, thats all. Justice for Tess. And for Duong, I finished lamely. Hoffman softened his expression. God has a special plan for each of us, Jack. You may not understand this yet, but I have every faith that it will all soon become clear to you. He nodded reassuringly. Allow Gods light to fill you, and the way ahead will become clear. The power of faith will guide your actions. I was tempted to make a crack about the power of whisky. I clamped down on my tongue to keep it firmly in my cheek. God has the answers you seek, Hoffman continued. If you open your heart to Him, He will reveal the truth to you. He stood, glancing at the gold watch on his wrist. I have to prepare for the service now, Jack. Would you like some coffee before we commence? I recalled the excellent brew from my last visit. Yes, please. Splendid. A big toothy gleam escaped from the forest of his beard. Wait here and Ill have Vanessa bring it in for you. He came out from behind his desk to give me a fatherly pat on the shoulder. An open mind, Jack, thats all I ask. An open mind to allow the light of God into your life. I rewarded his spiel with a polite, noncommittal smile, and he left the room. It felt good to just sit there and be at peace for a moment, away from Hoffmans intensity. His insight into a persons inner secrets was uncanny. I could see why he was a successful preacher; with his charisma, he could charm the bribes off a politician. I loosed a yawn that registered three on the Richter scale and wandered over to the shelves to examine one of Hoffmans crystal elephants. It was the size of a womans fist, with two tiny ruby eyes that had been skilfully embedded into the crystal, and miniature tusks that appeared to be genuine ivory. I could sell both of my kidneys on the black organ market and still not be able to afford such a fine piece of art. On the opposite wall, inside a polished, sleek entertainment cabinet, a state of the art plasma television had been installed with precision. Just to be nosey, I opened the cabinet and found a fancy video recorder and a rack with several dozen tapes. I flipped through the tapes, but the labels were marked only with dates. Perhaps Hoffman recorded his sermons for posterity, to numb the minds of future converts. COLDER THAN BLOOD 178 ED ROWE

I had just closed the cabinet door when an arm slipped around my waist. Jesus! I said, and Vanessa giggled. Hi, Jack. She gave me a squeeze. Did I scare you? Either that or I just spontaneously converted to Christ. She stroked the back of my neck. Oh, now youre all tense. She kneaded my shoulders with nimble fingers. Vanessa... Hush, Jack. I brought you your coffee. I pulled away from her touch and moved over to where shed placed the tray on the desk. The elephants watched with their judgmental red eyes as I stirred in my cream. The coffee tasted a bit metallic, so I heaped in an extra spoonful of sugar. Vanessa moved up next to me and I could feel the heat of her proximity. I angled myself slightly to create some distance. Whats the matter, Jack? she said, sounding hurt. Dont you like me? I like you fine, Vanessa. Then why dont you want to make love to me? She said it as casually as if shed asked me to pass the pepper. I nearly choked on my coffee. Youre too young, I spluttered. Ill be nineteen next month, she said. Bullshit, I said. Youre fourteen, fifteen at most. She shrugged. Her hair drifted in front of her eyes. What difference does age make, really? I can be as old as you want me to be, Jack, or as young. She looked at me steadily through her hair, the barest hint of her tongue swimming slow laps on the surface of her lips to emphasise her point. It was well emphasised. It makes a difference to me, I said blandly. She pouted. You dont have to make excuses just because you dont find me attractive. I know Im not the prettiest I shook my head. Thats not it at all. I think youre very attractive, but Really? She edged closer to me. You do? But, I said, and then I couldnt think of a single but that wouldnt sound prudish to this sexually mature girl-creature in front of me. But thats just the way it is, I finished lamely. End of story. Vanessa posed with hands on hips. Not even a teensy-weensy little COLDER THAN BLOOD 179 ED ROWE

kiss? Her lips were full and ripe, her skin unspoiled and tempting. Other guys might have gone for it. But I shook my head. Ive got my morals. They might not be worth much more than pocket lint, but Ive got them. She reached out and pressed her fingertips to my lips. Not even a finger kiss? I relented and brushed the tip of her finger with a peck. There you go, I said. Now beat it before you get me in trouble with the principal. She giggled and sucked her finger into her mouth, bouncing out through the door like a schoolgirl on heat. Which, come to think of it, she was. Teenagers, I thought, and rolled my eyes. Thank God I dont own one. I sat and drank more of the coffee. It tasted awful. I wondered who had brewed it today. Id read somewhere that fifty percent of a good coffee is in the skill of the preparer. I gulped the bitter mixture down anyway, with a series of jerks and grimaces. It was stirring sluggishly in my stomach by the time Hoffman returned. He was decked out in priestly robes. Are you ready to join us, Jack? He studied me keenly. Yeah, I guess. I swayed a little giddily as I got to my feet. This way. He led me along the hallway and into the big conference room Id glimpsed before. Ten people were already seated at the massive polished table. They smiled at me with shiny eyes as I walked in, as if Id just escaped from purgatory and was here to be inducted back into the fold. Hoffman turned me around to face them, his hand gripping me by the upper arm. Let me introduce you to the rest of the group, Jack. Hello, I said, nodding to everyone in general. I was feeling sociable. Im Jack. In front of each person rested a bible and a glass of what looked like white wine. Nearly everyone beamed identical smiles of welcome back at me. Most of the Christians were female. Vanessa was sitting with her back to the window. She gave me a huge smile with plenty of lip and tongue in it. A surly-looking youth with a crew cut broke the mould by favouring me with a scowl instead. Probably thought I was muscling in on his action. COLDER THAN BLOOD 180 ED ROWE

Jack, this is Tristan, Hoffman said, pointing to the frowning young man. Tristans a motor mechanic by trade. Gday, I said. Tristan responded with a curt nod. He had the scarred knuckles of a fighter. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldnt place him. Id been in plenty of drunken pub brawls over the years though; it wouldnt be the first time Id run up against an old grudge held by somebody that Id entirely forgotten about. A young married couple were the Bannisters. Her job was carrying the kid that was due in four months and his sales job was going to buy the silver spoon. Next on the checklist were Annabelle and Kylie, both doing first year law at university. They looked like a pair of skinny vampires badly in need of a tan and a decent meal. Hoffman kept going around the table, matching names to faces as fast as I could forget them. Rob, a big, stupid-looking guy, was looking for work and seemed somewhat reluctant about the prospect of finding it. Over here were twin sisters Samantha and Faye, both still at school, sharing not only identical genes but an unfortunate, near-symmetrical bout of acne. Vanessa licked her lips, fluttered her eyelashes at me, and still looked fifteen and not a virgin. Lucky last was Anita, a shy, plain Greek girl in her twenties, who worked as a receptionist and wouldnt meet my eyes. They all wore those familiar gold crucifixes around their necks, as if the necklaces were membership medallions that would get you into Gods private club. After the hellos, I was ushered into a chair between Vanessa and Anita. I felt like a fossil. Aside from Hoffman, I was the oldest person in the room. These people were the bright young future of religion, I realised. So much for the stereotype of the Church as a dumping ground for grannies in cobwebbed shawls. Vanessa put her hand on my knee the moment Id wedged myself into the hard uncushioned chair. Hi, Jack, she said in a flirty whisper. Changed your mind yet? Nope, I told her. She winked and patted my thigh. Let me know when you do. I wriggled around in my chair trying to get comfortable. Several fat red candles had been lit, one for each corner of the room. They resembled bloated pungent sausages, filling the air with a sweet-smelling aroma. Hoffman was at the head of the table, talking to the Bannisters. COLDER THAN BLOOD 181 ED ROWE

The others chatted among themselves. I felt a sudden sense of dizzy unreality, as if I were trapped in some bizarre dream that I needed to pinch my way out of. My mouth felt dry and I could still taste the bad coffee on my tongue. Where do you go to school? I asked Vanessa, to make conversation. She brightened at my interest. Dropped out last year, she said. Wasnt learning nothing anyway. Gave my folks the flick at the same time. She tossed her hair with a practiced movement. Reverend Hoffman took me in, and now Im learning all about Jesus instead. I see. You believe in God, dont you, Jack? she asked. Heaven and hell? I thought about it. Well, lets just say that Ive seen enough wickedness to know that evil exists. Evil, hmm? The pink tip of her tongue salted the question with mischief. So youre a bit of a bad boy, are you? Her fingers kept moving up my thigh and I wasnt sure what to do about it. Not me, I said. I meant other peoples evil. She frowned. Oh yeah, I know about that alright. Her young face hardened and took on much older lines. Do you want to know why I ran away from home? I felt sick. Was someone touching you? She laughed bitterly. Touching me? My father did way more than touch me, the dirty old shit. And my mum, she didnt even Her varnish had all peeled off now, the bare boards exposed. She took a shaky breath and exhaled slowly before dismissing the subject with a shrug. Anyway, they can both rot in hell for all I care. A spiteful sneer passed across her face. I heard theyve been going nuts trying to find me. I had no idea how to respond. I was starting to feel groggy, trapped in this stuffy room. As my brain struggled to find the words, I decided I could no longer tolerate her fondling my leg. At the same time, I didnt want to appear callous. So I scooped up her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. Youre safe now, I said, clutching at the first clichd words of comfort that came to mind. Vanessa beamed like a girl whod just found her one true love. She squeezed back, her eyes forming half-moons of happiness. I was feeling COLDER THAN BLOOD 182 ED ROWE

increasingly uncomfortable my mouth was parched, my head felt woozy and clogged with a dull heat but at least I had her roving hand under control. I took a gulp from the glass of yellow liquid in front of me. It was a thick, sweet lemon cordial, barely diluted with water. I choked down a mouthful and did my best not to gag. The door opened and a couple in their mid-twenties came into the room. The man was thin and anaemic, with a bald patch creeping across his scalp like a rash. His partner looked almost as wide as she was tall, and probably hadnt seen her own feet in years. Hoffman introduced them as Paul and Kirsty. The mismatched pair gave me a friendly hello, which I caught, rubbed clean, and tossed back at them. I felt a twinge of disappointment, and realised that Id been unconsciously hoping Crystal would appear. Perhaps that had been what had brought me to Hoffmans after all, the urge to see her and try to redeem myself in her eyes. Very good, Hoffman said once everyone was seated. Alright, now that were all here, let us begin, shall we? Vanessa released my hand and picked up her bible. I followed the script and reached for the book in front of me. It was neatly bound in fine leather, with gold lettering inscribed on the cover: HOLY BIBLE Specially printed for the Rev. Alistair Hoffman God Reads Your Soul As You Read His Wisdom Cute, I said, pointing at the cover. Vanessa smiled and peered up at me through half-closed eyelids. She probably thought it was her seductive look, but it only made her look goofy. I opened my mouth to smile back, and the smile stretched out into a big sudden yawn. The sweet fumes from those candles were making me sleepy. Hoffman stood. Lets start with Matthew 7:21, he announced. I vaguely remembered that the Gospels were somewhere around the three-quarter mark, so I didnt look too foolish trying to find the passage. I scavenged through the pages until I found the right verse. Hoffman cleared his throat and began reciting, apparently from memory. Beware of false prophets. For not everyone who calls me COLDER THAN BLOOD 183 ED ROWE

Lord is welcome in the kingdom of heaven, he quoted. Only those who obey my true will, without question, will be spared from damnation. When the Judgment falls, many will cry, Lord, Lord, did we not heed your word, have we not fought evil in your name and performed many good deeds? And I will reply, Away with you, sinners! For you have done the bidding of Satans liars and I know you not. He got it word perfect. Hoffman brought his eyes to rest on me. Jack, youre our guest today. What is your interpretation of that verse? He looked at me expectantly. It was a test and Id been put on the spot. I felt a momentary wave of dizziness. My face burned from the heat of everybodys stares as I tried to think. In here, I thought, the Christians are the lions, and theyve got me in their jaws. I took a punt and said, Its a warning not to use Gods name as an excuse for your actions. Hoffman flashed his toothy sharks grin. A good try, Jack, but wrong. He paced the floor, gesturing as he spoke. In this passage, Jesus is warning us to beware of those who claim to have our best interests at heart, but are in fact the minions of Satan! A few people gasped at the mention of the red-skinned guy with the horns. I noticed that Vanessa was concentrating hard on Hoffmans every word. God has a plan for each and every one of us, Hoffman continued. Yet this plan is perverted every single day by the devils henchmen. Disguised as officials and politicians and even your own family and friends, they utter blasphemies and lies to trick and confuse you. These are the false prophets Jesus tells us to defy! He expelled a hot, angry breath and gestured towards the big bay window, behind which, presumably, all those false prophets were lurking in the woods outside. Listen to what I tell you, what Jesus tells you. Pay no attention to the liars who seek to discourage you from finding your rightful place in Gods bosom. He angled his hands inwards to smooth his robes. Instead, trust only in God Himself, and in the love of those who truly understand His plan. Hoffman suddenly pounded the table with his fist, startling several people, including me. Doubt is the name of the poison that the servants of evil seek to infect us with! he shouted. That is why we must all take heed of Jesus warning and resolve anew to keep our faith strong. COLDER THAN BLOOD 184 ED ROWE

He cast a solemn gaze around the room. We must not let the godless evildoers out there undermine and destroy our church. I glanced at the others. Everybody looked rapt, their awe-struck eyes focused on Hoffman. Heads were nodding and I heard a few murmured buzzes of agreement. Even I was half nodding. He was some preacher alright. You ask me who will ascend at the Judgment? Hoffman cried, pointing out each person in the room with a stern finger. I tell you that only those who follow Gods mission to the letter will be saved! The finger of wrath finished up aimed at me. And what might that mission be? I asked, trying for a joke to lighten the mood. I was feeling a little tipsy. To boldly go where no man has gone before? Hoffman glared at me with indignation, as if I were a theatregoer whod just yelled an answer to Hamlets musings on the stage. He reined it in though, and gave me his tepid used-car-salesmans smile. That, Jack, is the eternal answer that each of us must discover. With the right teaching, you too will come to understand Gods plan. And I suppose youre the right teacher, Reverend, is that it? I demanded, my mouth slurring over some of the words. How do I know you arent one of those false prophets you warned us about? I felt giddy with cleverness; my brain had tapped into undiscovered reserves of intelligence. Einstein himself couldnt have expressed it better. I drank another gulp of the yellow cordial to celebrate; it tasted almost drinkable now. Hoffman seemed unfazed. Trust me, Jack, he said. God has touched my soul and shown me His vision of a better world. He slashed a hand towards the big window. Other so-called priests are nothing but conmen, interested only in money and head counts and increasing the profits on the collection plate. What passes for Christianity out there has become just another tool for the devil to promote greed and corruption. The cynic in me couldnt help nodding. Its hard to focus on feeding the needy when your magnificent church needs a new million-dollar wing with marble toilets. Whereas I, Hoffman continued, have never taken money from my followers. He fixed me with powerful, blazing eyes. Faith, yes. Trust, yes. Love, definitely! But never money. Any priest who COLDER THAN BLOOD 185 ED ROWE

demands money in exchange for Gods blessing is nothing more than a thieving charlatan! His face flushed with righteousness. My church is devoted to love! he shrieked. Love! A few of the Christians at the table muttered Amen like welltrained dogs. Love Vanessa whispered. She was rocking back and forth in her chair, entranced by Hoffmans performance. The other Christians seemed to be in a similar state of rapture. I found myself swaying a little as well, although that might just have been peer pressure. Love. Hoffman breathed deeply, as if drawing in love from the air itself. To share the love of God, the love of others, the love of life in all its glory that is my message, Jack. The capacity for love is our Lord and Saviours greatest gift to us. Love is the only gift that is unconditionally free. His eyes focused on me like lasers. I realized that he was waiting for me to say something. I understand, I said, and somehow I did. Logically, I could think of several other things that were just as important as love, but right at that moment, in the face of Hoffmans impassioned speech, they all seemed so shallow. My vision had become blurry and I couldnt think clearly. It was simpler to just agree. I let my mind go blank. My pulse felt like a soft, soothing drumbeat inside my skull. So much easier to accept what he was saying than to try to argue. I gulped down the remainder of the cordial. My hand wobbled as I returned the empty glass to the table. Let me help you, Jack, Hoffman said softly. Youve been brought up in a depraved society that only values people for what they have and what theyve accomplished. Out there, love is rationed out only to the successful, to those who conform to the evils of materialism. Anyone who fails is considered worthless, shunned. Is that how you feel, Jack? Worthless? I nodded. I thought of my drunken unemployment, my crappy little rented apartment, the list of friends I could count on one hand. I had failed to save Tess, failed to protect Duong. Id failed to find even one part of myself worth feeling good about. Slumped in that uncomfortable chair, I could actually feel my worthlessness, as if the word itself had taken physical form and was bearing down on my shoulders with relentless pressure. My eyelids felt hot and heavy. But youre not worthless, Jack, Hoffman continued, his voice COLDER THAN BLOOD 186 ED ROWE

penetrating through the haze in my brain to offer a flash of hope. Here in my church, with love and unity, such petty individual concerns as success and failure become pointless. Let go of your pain, Jack. Embrace love and become a member of Gods team. Join us, Jack, Vanessa whispered in my ear. She began stroking my thigh again and I didnt have the strength to do anything about it. Let us love you. There was perspiration on my forehead now. I was barely able to keep myself upright. I wondered if I was having a spiritual experience. Hoffman was right: the world had devolved into a frantic scrabble for money and power. Nobody cared about anybody but themselves anymore. Love had been lost somewhere along the ride, trampled in the mad rush. I was nodding vigorously now, my head spinning with new insights. I felt poised on the brink of a breakthrough. Let me guide you, Jack, Hoffman said, his words sliding straight into my brain. Trust me, join me, and your heart will soon be filled with the majesty of Gods love. Your soul will be renewed with faith and purpose. Hoffmans promises shone like beacons of hope in the black night. What allegiance did I owe to society anyway? That human cesspool out there where politicians cheat and lie and steal, doing and saying anything to get voted back into office where they can cheat and lie and steal some more. Where smartly dressed executives buy and sell peoples lives at the whims of shareholders, slashing jobs and destroying families for the sake of a few cents a share. Where doctors pocket hefty fees for yanking us screaming out of the womb, rush us through our appointments over the years with one eye on the clock and the other on their bulk billing quotas, and then stretch out our final fights until the last of the money dries up. It was a cold, loveless world out there, I saw now. Hoffman was right: the chill of despair, cynicism, and ever-gnawing loneliness had seeped into my soul with insidious stealth, and I needed to be rescued. I tried to say something, to voice some of these thoughts, but my mouth wouldnt work. My tongue felt too thick to navigate around my teeth. Bright spots pinpricked my vision. I wondered, vaguely, if Id been drugged. It didnt matter. All I wanted was to lie down and clear my head. I closed my eyes for a moment and was almost washed away by a wave of dizziness. COLDER THAN BLOOD 187 ED ROWE

Thats it, Jack, Hoffman was saying, his deep bass voice echoing inside my skull. Dont fight the sensation. What you feel is the Holy Spirit sweeping through you, cleansing your soul. Let go of your resistance. Put your faith in me and I will guide you to a place where love can flourish. Through the fog, I saw his eyes glitter like those of a hawk swooping in for the kill. Heaviness dragged at my eyelids. The fog in my head ebbed and billowed like the steam in a sauna. I was balanced on the lip of a precipice, needing only a nudge to push me off into a whole new way of life. I understood the power of faith now, the sense of destiny and completion it provided. I felt as though God had reached out a divine finger and zapped me with a revelation. My senses seemed heightened: the sickly sweetness of the cordial on my tongue, Vanessas hand industrious on my thigh, the acrid toffee stink of the candles. My brain felt like a jigsaw puzzle, whole and broken all at the same time, and ready to be put back together in new configurations. Hoffman was still preaching, but I couldnt hear him anymore. His words blurred into one smooth, soothing conduit of sound, leading me deeper towards epiphany, urging me to let go, to open my mind, open my heart, surrender my trust, lose myself to faith, to love, to feel Gods love surging through my veins. I closed my eyes, took a shuddery breath, and risked all. I opened my mind. I opened my heart, mind, and soul to the nothingness, and to whatever salvation it might bring

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Chapter Twenty
aces. Crowding around me. Staring. People lifting me, carrying me. Lowering me onto softness. A moist towel touched to my forehead. The deep, calming voice. Are you alright, Jack? the voice said. My eyes felt blurry with fever. I looked up and saw Christ on the cross, glowing with radiant divinity. I blinked to refocus my eyes and the holy vision was revealed as just a Crucifixion mural painted on the ceiling. I was in a dimly lit lounge room. More religious artwork adorned the walls. Reverend Hoffman sat on the arm of the couch I had been laid out on, staring down at me. He dabbed my face with the towel. Several of the other Christians stood behind him, shimmering in and out of my vision like wraiths. Jack, can you hear me? I managed a grunt. Someone brought a glass to my lips. More of the cloying cordial stuff. The glass clanked against my teeth as I took a mouthful. Thats it, Jack, the Hoffman voice said. Drink it all down. I turned my head aside. No more, I mumbled. The glass was taken away. Feel woozy. Just need some fresh air. You need rest, Jack. Hoffman patted my arm, setting off wavy ripples in my vision. What you need is time to absorb the Lords message. My attention kept trying to slink off on its own unauthorised missions. Need air, I said through sluggish lips. The urge to faint again was overpowering and I had to struggle to stay ahead of the greyness. Just a little fresh air Ill be okay. I could barely raise my head from the couch. Two of those red incense candles had been lit, spreading their sickly smoke throughout the room. Heavy curtains covered the windows, blocking out all natural light. The air in the room seemed humid and uncooperative, as if it were some malicious, sentient organism bent on defying my efforts to breathe. Hoffmans teeth gleamed within his beard like the twinkle of a manufactured diamond. Let go of your resistance, Jack. Let go and allow the Holy Spirit to fill you with love and obedience. He fished something out of a pocket in his robes and handed it to me. COLDER THAN BLOOD 189 ED ROWE

It was some sort of pink and yellow medicine capsule. Take this, he said. Youll feel better. When I hesitated, the teeth flashed again. Trust me, Jack. Youre among friends here. Behind him, the other Christians smiled and nodded encouragingly. Muddled as I felt, I didnt like the idea of taking strange medicine. I stuck the pill under my tongue and pretended to swallow it with a sip of the cordial. Very good, Hoffman said. Youll stay here for a few days until youve made the transition. He patted my shoulder tenderly. Dont worry, Jack. Just relax, listen to the tape, and learn. Alright? I nodded. The pill felt sour and uncomfortable in my mouth. When you feel the Spirit start to move in you, do not fight it. Just open your mind and allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the glory of Jesus Christ. He gave me a fatherly look. Put your trust in me, Jack, and I will change your life forever. You want that, dont you? Sure, I said with my thick tongue tucked over the pill. Hoffman stood. Youre one of us now, Jack, he said. Youll never feel lonely or useless again. His eyes sparkled. God has much work for you to do. The hovering crowd of Christians followed him to the door like moths swirling around a flame. Have faith, Jack, he said with one final wolfish smile. Trust me and Ill show you Heaven. He swept his robes around him with a flourish and left the room, the Christians trailing out behind him. The door snicked shut. I was alone at last. But not entirely alone. Near the stand that held the candles, a stereo system had been tucked into an alcove. One of the Christians must have activated it on the way out. Hoffmans voice came rolling smoothly from the speakers. Open your mind, child, the recording said. Do not resist the call of the Lord. Soft background music accompanied the voice, a gentle piano and flute duet that reminded me of the sea. I spat out the pill and hid it in my pocket. I needed air, not recorded sermons and happy pills. Although, my lethargic mind whispered, wouldnt it be easy, oh so easy, to just lie here on the couch and listen, listen to the voice, just let yourself slip, slip under the surface, and... Let the love of Jesus Christ consume you, the tape said, as if it could read my thoughts. Open your mind to the will of God and accept His love into your heart. Behind the voice, the music pulsed out a sleepy heartbeat. COLDER THAN BLOOD 190 ED ROWE

Sure, why not? I tried to open my mind, the way the voice told me to, but some silly yammering mental whisper kept insisting that something wasnt right. Let go, and allow the light of God to fill you. You are Gods servant and you must learn how to obey His will. Breathe deeply of His love and the Lord will reward you with salvation. I breathed deeply, but my only reward was a lungful of harsh, toffeescented smoke from the candles across the room. It made me cough until my head spun, and that broke the spell. I couldnt take this anymore; I had to have fresh air. I rolled from the couch and crashed onto the carpet. I didnt have the strength to stand. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and listen to the soothing voice. But I made myself move. On hands and knees, head hanging low, I crawled towards the windows. From the stereo speakers, Hoffmans recorded voice preached on about the beauty of Gods love and the honour of being His servant. I finally made it across the room and stretched out a shaky hand to tug open the curtains. The light of God! My whole being reeled with a sudden surge of hope and awe, and I came close to passing out. But as my eyes adjusted, I realised it was only sunlight, and not a miracle after all. Disappointment tore through me. But I wouldnt stop now. I clenched my teeth and, using the window frame for support, hauled myself to my feet. The window was one that could be wound open. I opened it as far as it would go and shoved my face out into the cool, clean air. It tasted like pure bliss. I breathed in another big lungful and the dizziness began to lift from my mind. I felt the faint stirrings of a headache starting to form. I looked out at the garden view and calculated the distance to the ground; this room was on the second floor. I kept sucking in fresh air, again and again, until my brain had clambered up out of the pit of haze. You must renounce your old sinful ties to the past. Hoffmans recording was still going strong. Do not trust anyone who does not belong to the church, even friends and family you have known for years. For the devil prises his way into the souls of the unsaved, and they will try to poison you against our church with their evil lies. His voice no longer sounded smooth and persuasive; now it grated on my ears. I felt as though I might be ready to walk. I held my breath and waded through the thick air over to the stereo alcove. Hoffman was COLDER THAN BLOOD 191 ED ROWE

babbling on about Gods love residing within each of us, waiting to be shared. I stopped the tape, ejected it, and snapped it in half with my bare hands. There was no love residing in my heart right now. Only sickness and disgust and the growing heat of anger. Still holding my breath, I went to the door and readied my hand on the knob. Unlocked. I curled my other hand into a fist, yanked open the door, and burst out into the hallway. Nobody in sight. The hallway was decorated with the same orange wallpaper and frizzy blue carpeting Id seen before. Hoffman must have bought them in bulk. I holstered the fist and started moving. The air was normal out here. I could see a staircase at the end of the hallway, extending in both directions. I had no way of knowing where the Christians were, so Id have to chance it. Reaching the stairs undetected would be my first challenge. I knew now that I had been drugged. Drugs in the candle smoke, drugs in the cordial, and probably drugs in Hoffmans coffee as well. They hadnt fully worn off yet. My tongue felt bloated and unresponsive against the inside of my cheek. A wave of giddiness washed over me and I leaned against the wall until it had passed. I swore softly. The weakness I felt was only making me angrier. Hoffman was brainwashing people for his own twisted purposes, whatever those might be. Plying them with drugs and love bomb messages until their brains were blasted clean, and then filling the empty shells with pseudo-religious rubbish. Like a vampire, he drained every last drop of individuality and free will, leaving only awed obedience. Hed done it to the others, and hed almost succeeded in doing it to me. Right here in the heart of Melbourne, Id stumbled into a religious cult. You hear about extreme cults in the news every now and then, when a sermon goes wrong and turns into a slaughter. But for every cult that implodes in the public eye, there are ten other would-be messiahs out there, quietly biding their time, collecting followers, pursuing their own private heavens and hells. It made me sick to my stomach, but now wasnt the time for getting mad. Right now, I needed to make like Steve McQueen on a Nazi motorbike and escape this madhouse. I tiptoed towards the staircase, my shoulders pinching up against my neck as I passed each open doorway. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer and I had to consciously will each foot to move. I had almost made it to the stairs when I heard a gasp. COLDER THAN BLOOD 192 ED ROWE

My head spun towards the sound. A snapshot of the room seared itself into my brain: several naked people sprawled together; Hoffman working the controls of a video camera; Vanessa, her eyes dull with drugs, on all fours and gaping at me with surprise. I blundered past the doorway and stumbled down the stairs. Yet another maze of gold crosses and blue carpet. I couldnt afford to get lost, not now. Someone shouted behind me and my stomach leapt into my mouth. I saw more open doors, more unknown rooms, and I ran frantically past them all without looking, desperate to find a way out. I could hear footsteps pounding down the stairs. My mind was spinning, still unable to process the shocking images Id glimpsed. I felt like vomiting. And then, incredibly, I rounded the corner into the next hallway and there was the door, the blessed front door, like a holy sign sent to lead me out of this sordid nightmare. I wrenched the door open. Sunlight. More shouts from behind me. I ran towards the fountain where my car was parked. I clawed my keys out of my pocket and climbed in behind the wheel. My vision kept blurring from drugs and adrenaline. I jabbed the key at the ignition too quickly and fumbled the whole key ring onto the floor. Shit! I looked up. Tristan sprinted from the house wearing only his pants. I slapped down the door lock just as he reached the car. His face twisted into a snarl of amphetamine rage and he punched the window. The glass rang like a shot, but didnt break. I groped the key from where it had fallen between my shoes and slid it into the ignition. The engine started without a hiccup. Tristan pounded on the roof in frustration as I shifted into reverse. I stamped on the accelerator and he leapt away from the car as it took off. The tyres left streaks of rubber on Hoffmans driveway. I reversed at high speed, using the mirror to see where I was going. More cultists spilled out of the mansion in various states of undress and confusion. The back of the car suddenly wavered off the driveway and ploughed a brown line through the grass until I dragged it back under control. And then I shot backwards through the open gate, jammed on the brakes, and swung the car out onto the road to freedom. I shifted into first and spun the wheels all the way to the next block. In the mirror, several half-naked cultists stood just inside Hoffmans gate, staring after me like dark centaurs. COLDER THAN BLOOD 193 ED ROWE

I steered the Commodore back to the main road and headed for home. I wanted to hit somebody. Id just barely avoided being brainwashed and I was mad about it. I drove fast and recklessly, reasoning that if a cop pulled me over for speeding, then at least Id have somebody to hit. By the time I reached my neighbourhood, the effects of Hoffmans drugs, whatever the hell theyd been, had mostly worn off. A paranoid chill ran down my spine. The cultists couldnt have caught up to me yet, but Drucker was still out there somewhere. I parked a few houses back from my apartment and scanned the street. No sign of trouble. No brown van or black Porsche. The only vehicle that looked out of place was my neighbour Herberts hippy kombi van with the velvet curtains, but that always looked out of place. I entered the courtyard, keeping close to the fence. Mrs. Vanguard stood at the communal washing line pegging new holes into her old stockings. She scowled at me suspiciously as I scuttled past her. I made it to my door, stabbed my key into the lock, and went in fast. I shouldered the door open and it juddered against the frame as I rushed inside with a yell. Nobody swung a machete at my head. Nobody waited at my desk with a gun levelled at my chest. I darted into the cut-away kitchen in fighting stance, back foot supporting my weight, front foot tensed and ready to fire. No thugs crouched in the gap between the fridge and the stove. Nobody lurked in the pantry cupboard. I grabbed a rolling pin while I was in there. It felt thick and heavy and hungry for a head to knock. The bathroom was clear. Nobody squatted in the shower stall waiting to pounce. The bedroom cupboard concealed no slavering madmen, just some criminally out-of-fashion clothes. The only hiding place left was under the bed. I didnt really expect anyone to be hiding there, but I checked anyway. I was down on my knees squinting at the dust bunnies when a voice spoke suddenly in the next room. I yelped and cracked my head on the slats of the bed, and then sprang up and hurtled into the living room, roaring at the top of my lungs and slashing the rolling pin wildly from side to side. There was nobody in the apartment but a fool. A fool named Jack. leave a message and Ill get back to you when Im sober. It was my own recorded voice answering a phone call. The beep made me feel even more foolish. Pick up the phone, Jack, the caller said in a grave voice. This is COLDER THAN BLOOD 194 ED ROWE

Reverend Hoffman speaking. A shiver snaked its way down my back. Jack, I dont know what spooked you earlier, Hoffman said, but rest assured, we mean you no harm. Yeah right, I told the answering machine. I only want whats best for you, Jack. Your brothers and sisters in the church only want whats best for you. His voice was smooth and arrogant, a knowing father disciplining a child. Id heard enough. I stormed across the room and snatched up the phone. Go to hell, you sick bastard! Jack! Dont hang up! Thank God youre okay. You dont have the right to call God by his first name, I said. Your so-called church is nothing more than a brainwash brothel! My church What do you do? Dope them to the eyeballs and then make them fuck for Jesus? Huh? Is filming amateur porn the only way you can get it up? How dare you Im turning you over to the cops, I said with every bit of contempt I could muster. For Christs sake, Hoffman, some of those kids are still in school. Nobody is being made to do anything they dont want Do you know what they do to kiddie diddlers in prison? Hoffmans voice darkened. If you attempt to blacken my good name with your lies, I will sue you to your last dollar. There was none of the slick-talking conman in his voice now. Now he was all steel. Ill see you ruined, do you hear me? Ruined! I snorted. Go ahead and sue. If you win, you might even get the whole twenty-six bucks. You are nothing but a fiend sent to do the devils work! Hoffman shouted. He was losing it badly. My church is protected by our Lord and saviour, Jesus Christ! Know that if you try to harm me, His vengeance will be swift and horrible! That subconscious tickle that had been nudging at my mind suddenly exploded with full force. You had Tess killed, I said in a harsh whisper. It cut him off in mid-rant. I sneered into the receiver with savage pleasure. And now I know how to prove it... I slammed down the phone before he could respond. Seconds later, COLDER THAN BLOOD 195 ED ROWE

it began ringing again. I pulled the cord out of the wall and silenced it before the answering machine could engage. Vengeance is mine; I will repay, I said to the empty room. It was one of the few bible quotes that I actually remembered. Tess had been afraid of her pursuers vengeance, I remembered now; shed specifically used that unusual, religiously weighted word. And here was the word again, straight from Hoffmans pious lips. The proof! I rummaged through the mess on my desk until I found the manila folder Benny had given me. I skimmed through the file, looking for that one sheet of paper which held all the answers, the tingle in my mind growing into a great pounding thump of certainty. I flipped through article after article until at last I found it. The crack lawyer. The one whose sleazy tactics had won Drucker his bail. The name had flitted past my consciousness when Id first read the file, but there it was now in black and white. I held up the page triumphantly and rattled it in my fist. A. Hoffman, I said aloud to the silent apartment. Counsel for the defence. Somebody knocked on the door and I flinched. I stuffed the article into a desk drawer and crossed the room with my fist cocked at shoulder level. The knock came again, and with it, Mrs. Vanguards irritating voice. I know youre in there, Marsh! I yanked open the door and scowled at her. What? I beg your pardon! What do you want, Mrs. Vanguard? It took all of my self-control to avoid making extensive use of four-letter words. Mrs. Vanguards lips tightened. She looked at me with all the self-righteous contempt of a kicked poodle. I want a word with you, Marsh. I will not tolerate such banging of doors and uncivilised yelling Blah, blah, blah, I said rudely. Go put your word in a letter, and put the letter in my mailbox, and Ill read it when Im good and ready. Her face compressed into a shocked grimace, her mouth meshing as she tried to find the words to express her indignation. Have you entirely forgotten your manners? she squawked. I never had any. Now piss off and leave me alone! I shut the door in her face and locked it. The doorbell rang again and again, and I could hear her sputtering with rage and landlord-related COLDER THAN BLOOD 196 ED ROWE

threats on the other side of the door, but I ignored her and after a few minutes she stalked back to her apartment, slamming her own door behind her. I grinned to myself; with any luck, her cats would have a word with her about that. I sat at my desk and tried to think. Id found evidence that Hoffman and Drucker had been entangled together in the past, and it didnt take a quantum physicist to figure out who Hoffman was buying his drugs from now. But beyond that brief flash of insight, I couldnt concentrate. It was the smiling horror of it all that kept eating at me. Those kids had been brainwashed so cynically that they couldnt think for themselves anymore. Now they just smiled and performed like mindless sheep on a stage, while their great bearded messiah instructed them on how to arrange their naked bodies for God and the camera. Just thinking about it made my fists ache. I still didnt have enough solid proof to convince the cops. Maybe I was just a big stupid goose chasing my own feathered tail, but I was determined to take Hoffman down myself. Nobody should have the right to rifle through somebody elses mind and take away their free will. I just hoped that the damage was reversible. I plugged the phone back in and dialled, apprehensive about the sort of reception I might get. Hello? Its me, Crystal. Jack? Her tone changed from wariness to relief in an instant. Oh my God, Im so sorry about before. Are you alright? Not really. Im in more trouble than an amputee with an itch. Is it because of what I said about you to that fat policeman? Please forgive me, Jack. I was, like, totally out of my head. Its okay. I just needed to blame somebody, you know, and Forget about that now, I butted in. I need to see you. Right away. Why, whats wrong? I cant tell you, I said. Not over the phone. If I tried to speak ill of her beloved Reverend too prematurely, she might hang up on me in disbelief and call him for reassurance. And I wasnt going to risk letting her end up as another scarlet Picasso in a concrete pipe. Where do you want to meet? she asked. Can you drive? COLDER THAN BLOOD 197 ED ROWE

I can borrow Mums car. There was a secluded park I knew of, about halfway between my place and hers. I told her how to get there. Oh Jack, theres so many things I Save it. I was anxious to get out of the apartment before Hoffman could organise a posse. Ill see you in about twenty minutes. My God, you sound so, like, serious. It must be really bad. Oh its bad alright, I said. I know who killed Tess, and hes badder than Michael Jackson. You know who did it? My God, who? Good guess, I said, and hung up. Nice touch, I thought, and ran for the car.

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Chapter Twenty-One
inspected myself in the cars mirror. Give me a shave, some clean clothes, and a stiff drink and Id probably pass a drill sergeants inspection. For about half a second. A few of the barbed wire cuts Id received the other night had become itchy with infection, as if theyd called over all their germ friends to come on in and have one on the house. I couldnt remember my last tetanus shot. Itd be ironic if I made it this far and then died because of a rusty fence. I left the car and wandered into the park. Crystal hadnt arrived yet. The afternoon sun felt warm enough to bake a cake. The air smelled as delicious as fresh bread and the grass looked soft and green. It was a relaxing, romantic place, with well-tended flowers, butterflies, and a gentle wind whispering lullabies to the trees. I, on the other hand, was all wire nerves and tension. Hurry up, Crystal! I paced. I explored the park, climbed halfway up a tree like a little kid. I picked some flowers for Crystal on a whim, and then tossed them away. I paced some more. She was half an hour late. Maybe Hoffman had reached her first. Or Drucker had come for her. Maybe the knife was entering her flesh right now A Volkswagen pulled up fast, its handbrake rasping. Crystal got out and waved when she saw me. She wore a long white dress and heels that made her look like a princess waiting to be saved; by comparison I looked like a crime scene photo. She ran across the grass towards me, and then she was in my arms. Crystal I started, but she pressed her lips against mine. Our kiss was full of hunger, as if wed been starving for each other all our lives. I hugged her tightly and she hugged me back. It was all that mattered for now. She broke the kiss and beamed at me. How was that? she asked. Like a glass of water in the desert. She was beautiful, and just holding her, I felt beautiful inside too, no matter how ripped up and scarred I was on the outside. Her dreamy smile reminded me of Tess. I said, Crystal, we need to talk. She stroked my chest. We were meant to be together, Jack. She gazed at me with eyes that yearned for something nameless and eternal. COLDER THAN BLOOD 199 ED ROWE

Dont you feel it? I swallowed. Crystal, we have to talk about whats happened. Her tongue brushed mischievously across the surface of her lips. She reached down between my legs and squeezed. Not yet, she said. I pulled her to me and kissed her hard. She mashed her breasts against my chest and panted into my mouth. We kissed more and more passionately, trying to find an ever-deeper unity. I covered her face and throat with whiskery kisses. Even her sweat smelled divine. She clutched at me with growing excitement and wove her fingers through my hair. We lay on the grass, Crystal straddling my hips. There was nobody else in the park. I removed my shirt and she kneaded my hard muscles, making little noises of approval. She kissed my chest, worked her way down, and planted a wet tongue in my bellybutton that made me laugh. Her hands found my belt and loosened it, and then there was only her hot, lovely mouth. I gasped and felt the world withdrawing from my senses, leaving me immersed in pure, blissful sensation. I roamed under her dress with my fingers and found slick, inviting heat. Crystal arched her back and sighed with pleasure, then shifted into position and lowered herself onto me with a gasp, and for a while we forgot about everything but the seamless, timeless junction of our bodies Afterwards, we kissed and murmured soft, breathless sounds to each other. I felt a lazy buzz of peacefulness in my lower stomach. The sun had crept away behind a cloud and it was growing cooler. A nearby rosemary bush enveloped us with its fragrance. You know, Jack, I was thinking, Crystal said as she lay with her head on my chest. Maybe things were, like, supposed to turn out this way. What do you mean? She toyed absently with my chest hair. I mean Tess and Duong. Her touch felt like tiny pleasant wisps of electricity. Maybe it was, like, Gods will that those bad things had to happen, so that you and I would meet and get together. Thats a pretty raw deal for the other two. She gave me a meaningful look. God works in mysterious ways, Jack. I was feeling fine and didnt want to argue. All I know is Im glad COLDER THAN BLOOD 200 ED ROWE

youre here. I love you, Jack. My heart knows we were meant to be together. I didnt know how to respond to that. Men are wired differently to women; it takes longer for our feelings to percolate into words. I gave her my hundred-watt smile and said, I think youre great too, Crystal. It seemed to be enough. She snuggled against me and made little sounds of contentment. What is love, anyway? Id been in love before. Back when Id been with Julie, Id been open, free with my feelings, maybe more than a little crazy. Now though, almost nine months since the heartbreak, I still remained wary about letting go of the reins again. But to love somebody else gives us a reason for living. Without other people to care about, were just solitary pieces on a chessboard, occupying our own little spaces and being pushed around by forces we dont understand. Every king needs a queen. However, I wasnt ready to analyse how I felt about Crystal just yet. I was on an emotional high right now and that was dangerous enough. I didnt want to rush in blindly like a pawn again. Are you ready to talk about the bad stuff? I asked. She nodded. Okay. I think I know who killed Tess, I said. Who? Youre not going to like it. Her eyes went big and round. Jack, youre scaring me! Who? I took a deep breath. Alistair Hoffman. Crystals head was already shaking in rejection of the idea. Im guessing he paid Drucker to do the wet work, I continued, but it was definitely Hoffman who wanted her dead. How can you even think that? she said. She leaned away from me. Reverend Hoffman loved Tess. He wouldnt hurt a mosquito. Hoffman and Drucker go way back, I told her. Drucker supplies the dope that keeps you and the others brainwashed and believing Hoffmans bullshit. They Stop it! I wont listen to your lies! Its the truth, Crystal. No! She pulled away from me and settled on the grass at a chilly distance. You dont know what youre saying. Reverend Hoffman is a good man. A holy man. We love him of our own free will. She spoke COLDER THAN BLOOD 201 ED ROWE

with the heat of conviction, but I thought I saw a glimmer of doubt in her eyes. He tried to do it to me, Crystal, I said forcefully. He slipped enough drugs into my drink to brainwash an elephant, and then left me in a room with mind control mumbo jumbo playing on the stereo. Maybe you just got drunk on the holy wine and became confused. Not a chance, Crystal. I snorted. I suck myself into a bottle every night like a genie looking for misplaced wishes. I know what drunk is, and that was something else. If I hadnt made a run for it, Id be halfway to Hallucination Heaven by now. I dont believe you. Anyway, that tape is just the induction program the Reverend uses to help us, you know, get a crash course on Jesus message. She sniffed. You dont have to listen to it, so how can it be mind control, right? Yeah, yeah, so Hoffman fed you the same bullshit, huh? It is not bullshit. She folded her arms indignantly. Its bullshit, I said. The problem is youve already swallowed it, so now you think it tastes like chocolate. Her lips tightened. How can you say such awful things, Jack? After weve just after I She pouted. I thought you loved me. I do care about you. Thats why Im trying to save you. Her face brightened. No, let me save you, Jack. Youre misguided, thats all. Let me save your soul. Crystal I know what must have happened, she said. When Gods love began flowing through you, it was, like, so intense that you freaked out, thats all. You just need to open your heart a bit wider and Crystal Come back to the mansion with me, Jack. Come back and try again. She was flushed with hope now, animated and talking rapidly. If you apologise, Im sure Reverend Hoffman will forgive you for whatever youve said. Then you and I can be together, forever, in Gods loving arms. For crying out loud, Crystal, wake up to yourself! I was annoyed and impatient now. Ive seen Hoffmans idea of love. Its nothing but pornographic filth! She opened her mouth as if to argue, but then shut it again. Yeah, thats right, I said harshly. I saw him playing film director COLDER THAN BLOOD 202 ED ROWE

to a room full of naked zealots. One hand on the video camera and the other on his cock. It was disgusting. He had them all thumping on the carpet like rabbits. Crystals cheeks turned bright red. You youre twisting things around and making them sound bad when its its not like that at all, really it isnt. Does he make you fuck for the camera like an animal, Crystal? I could feel my neck muscles bulging, my fingernails digging into my palms. Tell me, is that the sort of thing a good Christian girl is supposed to do? Its not oh, why are you trying to confuse me, Jack? Her shoulders shook. Youre messing with my head! Somebodys been messing with it alright. She ignored my sarcasm. Now you youre twisting everything around and making it sound dirty, and I dont I dont want to talk about it anymore. She was barely holding back the tears now, like an overfilled glass of water being carried over rocky ground. Id have to tread carefully if I was going to bring her back whole. Look, I said in a softer voice, you cant blame yourself for the things he made you do. Hoffmans a manipulative conman. You cant Youre a liar! she screamed. Tears spilled onto her cheeks. How can you say these horrible things? I made calming gestures. Im just trying to help you, Crystal. Youre an evil, devil-loving liar, and youll burn in hell for your lies! Hoffman had Duong killed as well, I said. Lies! Its the truth. Tess and Duong were both cut with the same knife. All lies! Damn it, Crystal! He killed your boyfriend and your best friend. And if you dont wake up and smell the facts, then he might even kill you too. Cant you see that? Crystal stiffened. Something small and far away glittered in her eyes. She got unsteadily to her feet. I stood too and she walked up to me. She drew back her hand and slapped my face hard. I took it without a word. I hate you! she screeched, and stormed off. COLDER THAN BLOOD 203 ED ROWE

I watched her go, my emotions churning with guilt and anger and indecision and desire. Then I ran after her and caught her before she reached her car. She folded into my arms without resistance. Fresh sobs tore loose from her throat and she hugged me hard, crying into the hollow of my shoulder. Duong she whispered. I just held her as she shivered in my arms. I remembered holding Tess in my arms in another garden long ago. I stroked Crystals chestnut hair and made soothing murmurs until her tears stopped. Jack? Yeah? Im sorry. Dont be, I said. It was a hell of a shock to hit you with. Im still not saying I believe any of it. But I shouldnt have reacted that way without, like, hearing you out first. Its okay. Youd better just tell me everything. Her mouth curled. Ill, like, try to reserve my judgment until then. Do you promise not to claw my eyes out if I speak blasphemy against the great Reverend Hoffman? She managed a weak smile. Ill restrain myself. Only one eye. I grinned. Ones enough to wink at you with anyway. I kept it brief, leaving out the feelings and concentrating on the facts. I was wading into deep water here: I had no way of knowing how deeply Hoffman had penetrated into her psyche. I told her about the drugs and the room full of naked film stars. Crystals face turned scarlet when I described the orgy Id glimpsed. I showed her the suspicious pink and yellow pill. I recounted Hoffmans phone threats and told her about the evidence trail I had found in Bennys file. Crystal listened in silence as I spoke. Her lips twisted back and forth as if she were chewing on something bitter and inedible. She wouldnt meet my eyes. Hoffman is one persuasive son of a bitch, I finished. Hes already rich, so I doubt hes doing any of this for money. I suspect hes just a control freak pervert who enjoys abusing peoples minds and bodies as part of some sort of sick power game. Hes not like that Crystal started, and then clammed up again. I stroked her back in a slow, soothing circle. Go on. What is it? COLDER THAN BLOOD 204 ED ROWE

Its just love, she said simply. Thats all. We all love each other in the church. She still spoke with passion, but it was tinged with defensiveness now. It may not be, you know, the social norm, but it feels right and it makes God happy. Reverend Hoffman teaches us how to love each other the way God intended us to. Ill bet he does. Crystal pouted. I knew you wouldnt understand. She uncoupled herself from my arms and regarded me coolly. I sighed impatiently. Here, Ill lay it out for you, I said. Hoffman and Drucker have been buddies for years. I think they met back when Hoffman was a lawyer and Drucker needed a way to stay out of jail, and theyve been as thick as thieves ever since. She refused to acknowledge me. Not even a flicker of interest. Now Hoffmans built himself a cult, I continued, full of nice young Christian girls who are ripe and willing and packed to the gills with dope. Whenever he needs more drugs to keep the sheep from using their brains, he goes to his good mate Kurt Drucker. Its a fine old arrangement. I hardened my tone. And when one of you wakes up and wants out, the way Tess did, he gets Drucker to do the messy work of keeping the lid on the pan. I could see her struggling to take it in and I understood her resistance. After all, to her brainwashed mind, she was happy. Most people only become aware of mind control as an issue whenever some bunch of lunatics winds up on the news after a siege or a mass suicide. But theres also plenty of legitimised brainwashing going on all around us, some of it so subtle that we dont even realise weve been caught up in it ourselves. For an alcoholic, the bar camaraderie is its own form of cult. For a gambler, its the lights and bells of the casino. For a desperately lonely spinster, the lies and promises of a dating agency. And then, of course, theres the insidious grasp of advertising and the opinion steering of the media, the lure of new technologies to goad our wallets into remaining constantly open, the peer pressure trends that spread through cunning viral marketing strategies into every corner of our lives. For Crystal, however, it was Hoffmans warped version of Christian love that had fastened its teeth on her mind. How could I convince her that she was in danger when she couldnt even see that she was a victim? She looked at me with her eyes narrowed. You said you have COLDER THAN BLOOD 205 ED ROWE

proof? I nodded. Most of its circumstantial, but it should be enough to get the cops interested. Once we set the hounds loose, theyll be able to sniff out the rest. But you dont have any solid proof that the Reverend killed Tess, do you? Not rock solid, I admitted. So youre going to slander a good and decent man, she shot back pointedly, and let the police harass him like a common criminal. Her nose turned up in disgust. Well, hello? What about innocent until proven guilty? Hoffmans guilty alright. Hes guiltier than Judas. Crystal sniffed. What would you know? This was getting nowhere. The afternoon sky had darkened towards evening, and already I missed the warmth of her body against mine. I changed tack. I think maybe it all got too much for her. For Tess, I mean. She folded her arms across her chest and pretended to ignore me. All the religious craziness, the sex, the drugs. Especially the drugs. I think Tess had become addicted to the point where she needed more than just spiked cordial. So Hoffman hooked her up directly with Drucker, who then arranged for her to buy discounted junk from his boy Needles. Between them, they had her locked in real good. But then at some point, Tess woke up. She made a brave effort to get clean and quit the cult, trying to leave the nightmare behind and stitch her life back together. I paused for effect. But the nightmare found her again You cant know that for sure, Crystal said. So she was listening again. I shrugged. Okay, its just a theory, but it fits. Hoffman couldnt stand to let her go, so he had her killed. In his eyes, shed betrayed him. But even so, why would the Reverend want to kill Tess? He loved her! Who knows? I said. My guess is that Hoffmans a dangerous control freak who couldnt accept that one of his hand-groomed followers might have the nerve to leave him. Maybe Tess threatened to go to the cops or the newspapers and expose him. COLDER THAN BLOOD 206 ED ROWE

I dont believe you. I dont believe any of this. She gave me a contemptuous look. I have complete trust in Reverend Hoffman. If you only knew him the way I do, you wouldnt doubt him for a second. I scowled right back at her. I wouldnt trust Reverend bloody Hoffman with the lint from my jocks. Her face stiffened. You bastard, she said. I thought she might slap me again, but she didnt. Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again. Fine, I said. Im gone. You can follow your precious shaman all the way to prison for all I care. Right then, I was mad enough to mean it too. Youre really going to the police? Damn right, I am. Hoffmans going down harder than a passed-out drunk. You wouldnt dare! Youve got no evidence, Jack, and you know it. Her voice was breaking. The Reverend will, like, sue you for every cent youve got. I laughed. You mean my dole cheque? Hes welcome to it. Crystals eyes burned with frustration and anger. If you do anything to hurt the Reverend, she said in a barely audible voice, Ill kill you. Take a number, I said. There are tougher people than you waiting their turn. I figured that was a pretty good exit line, so I spun on my heel and began walking back to my car. To hell with her, anyway. You try to be a good guy and keep the pretty girl out of trouble, and look what it gets you. Yet another death threat to pencil into your appointment book. But damn it to hell, I did love her. I loved the way her eyebrows looped in squiggly inverted commas. I loved the way her mischievous pout hinted at things better done than said. I loved her even now when her mind was made up against me and she hated me with blind passion. She was innocence and perfection and seduction all rolled up in one fine slim package. I couldnt just let her face the coming storm alone. Hoffman and Drucker were going to jail. That was my debt to Tess and it would be paid. But until that happened, Crystal wouldnt be able to see the truth through the blanket of persuasion that had been draped around her. If I left her like this, she would go directly to the Hoffman she trusted and find a different, crueller Hoffman in his place. I had to COLDER THAN BLOOD 207 ED ROWE

be tough with her now, and hope that there was still some love left when all this was over. I walked back and grabbed her by the arm. Youre coming with me, I said. Were going to finish this together. No! She tried to pull away. Let go of me, you lying bastard! Its for your own safety, Crystal. I felt a little crazy myself right now. I yanked and she came stumbling along beside me, cursing and wriggling and trying to pull free. I dragged her relentlessly, feeling like a deranged kidnapper. We made it to my car, and somehow I got the back door open and forced her inside. Once she was seated, she became sullen and quiet. She glared at me as I got in behind the wheel. Her face was red and tearblotched. Its for your own good, I said, repeating myself like an idiot. Im sorry. I started the engine and glanced at her in the mirror. She looked vulnerable and afraid. Just like Tess, I thought, only this one is going to live. Jack? Her voice sounded strange. I turned to look back at her and she bashed something hard against my face. I stared at the object through spinning concentric circles of vision. It was the steering wheel lock for my own car. It came rushing through the rippling pond and hit me a second time. I didnt go all the way out. I was a passive observer of my own body. Little sequences ticked away discretely like the second hands on a clock. Crystal getting out of the car. Dragging me out onto the road. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The cars engine idling next to my head. The rubber smell of the tyres. Crystal stabbing buttons on her mobile phone. Talking urgently, the words buzzing like insects in my ears. An itch on my leg. My eyes closing for a while. A kiss on my cheek. Crystal stroking my face. Itll be alright, Jack. Her voice coming from somewhere distant. The Reverend will know what to do. Cradling my head in her lap. Waiting. A screech of brakes. Theyre here now, Jack. Everythings going to be okay. A vehicle pulling up beside my car. My eyes swivelling in their sockets. A brown van. The brown van COLDER THAN BLOOD 208 ED ROWE

Chapter Twenty-Two
he van was still grimy with dirt, its bull-bar sneering with cold metal teeth. I could make out the dim profile of the driver behind the windshield. It was Tristan. I recognised him now as the shadowy pursuer whod grabbed Tess. But Tristan was only a tool, I realised; Hoffman was the true controlling force behind his actions. I lay there helpless as Tristan and a heavy guy whose name I couldnt remember got out of the van and swaggered over. Good work, Crystal, Tristan said, and then skipped up and kicked me in the ribs. You awake, demon? he asked, punctuating the question with another kick. I tried to make a witty comeback, but only a pain noise came out. Tristan rapped me hard on the jaw with the tip of his shoe. My vision took another brief nosedive into the clouds, but I wasnt going to give him the satisfaction of passing out. I wondered, dully, if I had a concussion, but I couldnt remember how to tell. I could scarcely lift my head, let alone a fist. Hell-fiend! he yelled, and that seemed to finish him. He squatted beside me and looked at me with something like pity. This was the bastard whod stolen Tess from me. Id found him at last. But of all the tough lines I could have come up with, all that croaked out was: Youre the hell-fiend. By my standards, it was as mediocre as an empty bottle of Scotch. Youd better start praying for your soul, he sneered, because hell is exactly where youre going. He took something from his pocket that clinked. Ill send you a postcard. My wisecrack machine was going into meltdown. Tristan frowned. Youll burn for your blasphemy, demon. His lip curled up into a malicious leer. Even the purification wont save you... The other youth stepped over anxiously. Quick, lets get him in the van. No, I dont want him loose in the van, Tristan said. Remember what happened with Tess. Besides, we need to get his car off the street. He waved the youth forward. Come here, help me roll him over. COLDER THAN BLOOD 209 ED ROWE

They turned me onto my stomach and Tristan forced my arms behind my back. Something cool and metallic clicked shut around my wrists. Handcuffs. I was helpless. Tristan stood. He scowled down at me as if I were a troublesome mound of garbage that had burst out of a hole in the bag. Heres what well do, he said. Well dump him in the boot of his car and Ill drive it back to the house. Rob, you take the van and meet us there. Okay. Crystal? I Ive got my Mums car. Good. Well all meet back at the house then. He touched her arm softly. The Reverends counting on you. Yes, Tristan, she said in a small voice. Fresh tear-streaks lined her face. She was doing her best not to look at me. The two men picked me up by the ankles and armpits. I was too weak to lash out. Heavy bastard, isnt he? Rob said, grunting under my weight. Shut up and open the boot. They popped the latch and tossed me in. My face thumped against the spare tyre and my pinned shoulders almost dislocated. Then the trunk lid slammed down and everything went dark. After a moment, the car door clunked and we began to move. I was wedged in at a stiff angle. The rumbling of the engine rattled my teeth and the potholes rattled my skull. The carpeted lining felt scratchy against my cheek. I tried to breathe deeply, but the air tasted stuffy and limited. I was closed in, trapped. In a coffin, buried alive The confining darkness got to me then and I thrashed around in a desperate panic, jarring my elbow against the panelling and twisting my limbs even further out of shape. I forced myself to calm down, breathe in metered rhythmic patterns, and be still. Tristans muffled voice was audible through the seat wall of the car. He was humming a tune. I imagined driving my fist into his mouth to shut him up, and the panic gradually faded away, replaced by the cold steel of anger. I could feel several bruises blossoming in the flesh around my ribcage. One of my back teeth also felt conspicuously loose, like a dissident in the crowd. The trunk smelled of oil and dirt and the strong, gassy stink of petrol. I clamped down on it all with stoic self control and COLDER THAN BLOOD 210 ED ROWE

focused on coming up with a plan. If I could just slide my cuffed hands past my butt and thread my legs through the gap, Id have my hands in front where I could use them. I arched my back and managed the first part okay, but the confined space made the rest too awkward. I couldnt contort my body far enough to allow my feet to slip between the cuffs. I tried it from a few different angles, straining my muscles until I thought they would tear, but it was useless. I gave it up and lay on my side, breathing hard. I felt something poking against my leg. I rolled over and groped blindly in the darkness until I found it. It felt like a gym bag. My fingers explored the fabric until they found a zipper, and then I remembered. A slow grin spread over my face. My karate bag. I hadnt taken the bag out of the car since my last workout. There was hope yet. I flexed my elbows and reached into the bag with clumsy, backwardly oriented hands. I pushed aside my sweat-damp karate outfit and found what I wanted. The set of nunchakas were at the bottom of the bag. The hard, footlong rods clicked together in tune with the cars motion. I rolled onto my side and drew my legs up so that I could reach my ankle. Working by feel, I slid the linked sticks underneath the leg of my pants, tucking one end into my sock to hold the weapon in place. It felt bulky and uncomfortable, and would probably be obvious to anyone who looked, but I didnt have a whole lot of choice. Next I withdrew the plastic sheet containing my six shurikens. The deadly throwing stars were tucked into individual plastic pockets to protect their sharp blades. Being careful not to cut myself, I slid the palm-sized weapons from their sleeves and distributed three in each of my back pockets. I was armed. The moment they took the cuffs off, Id be ready to strike. If they took the cuffs off My head ached. I was thirstier than a camel with a defective hump. If only Id kept a flask of whisky in the gym bag. Never know when youll be locked in the boot with only petrol fumes to keep you company, right? There was a plastic bottle of water inside the jack compartment, inches away, which I kept handy in case of an angry radiator, but even if I could have reached it, I wouldnt have been able to get it to my lips. I focused inwards, seeking my special place of concentration through COLDER THAN BLOOD 211 ED ROWE

a series of karate relaxation techniques. I had gotten soft lately. Every man and his dog kept grabbing me off the street and making me dance the tango with death. I was sick of it. It was time to teach the bullies a lesson about playground rules. Calm replaced fear. Readiness replaced paralysis. Cunning replaced confusion. I rehearsed no plans, instead trusting my fate to instinct and years of martial arts training. When you get down to the wire, plans are futile anyway; life rarely follows the script. You can only hope to be quick enough to grab the prize and dodge the blows. By the time we arrived, my heartbeat was under control. The car stopped and the engine died. I heard the car door slam and then some sort of grating sound followed by a loud clang. I tensed for action, even though it wasnt the right moment yet. I heard Tristan call out, Over here, guys. The sound of shuffling feet. Wheres that dirty little poofter? said a voice I recognised. My insides knotted with a sudden wrench of fear. In the boot. Been bouncing him around like a sack of spuds. Can he hear us? Dunno. Tristan raised his voice. Hey, hell-fiend! You still alive? I said nothing. Ive cuffed him, so he shouldnt be a problem, Tristan said. Do you need any help bringing him up? Oh, dont you worry about us, Drucker said, menace oozing from every syllable. Well manage just fine. No worries. Rob and I are going upstairs to help the Reverend prepare. You do that, boys. I heard footsteps tromping off. Moments later, the boot lid opened. Bright fluorescent light speared straight through my eyes and hammered on the soggy mess that was my brain. I squinted and saw Drucker sneering down at me, his moustache curled with distaste. Warren and Lucas stood silhouetted behind him with their arms folded. Well, well, well, Drucker said. Jack Marsh in the flesh. He spat out my name as if each word were an obscenity. Well, well, well, I said. The sicko. He laughed. Are you ready to meet your maker, Jack? The gleam in his eye hinted at horrors beyond imagining. COLDER THAN BLOOD 212 ED ROWE

And what if Im not? Oh, you will be soon enough. His leer widened. Before long, youll be pleading for death to come He gestured to his men. Warren had his gun out, but he put it away when he saw that I was shackled. He and Lucas still wore their grey and blue business suits. They hauled me out of the boot, setting me on my feet between them. I swayed unsteadily, as if I were dazed and harmless. It didnt require much acting. We were in a large enclosed garage that could have easily housed four cars, but mine was the only one parked here. The roller-door had been lowered, which explained the noise Id heard earlier. A plastic cross hung on the wall, and steps led up to a plain wooden door that presumably connected to Hoffmans mansion. One of the fluorescent bulbs overhead winked on and off with a nervous tic, giving the garage a distinctly noir atmosphere. So, are you scared, little boy? Drucker taunted. He reached out and ruffled my hair. Pissed your pants in terror yet? I recoiled away from his touch and his face hardened. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked. With my hands cuffed behind my back, I couldnt keep my balance. I fell awkwardly onto the concrete floor and jarred my shoulder. Ooh look, the poor little queer-boy fell over! You gutless coward! I thrashed around like a fox caught in a snare. Uncuff me and fight like a man! Say please first, little boy, he said. He pranced around me in a kind of childish jig. Say pretty please with sugar on it, and maybe I will. I doused my anger before it could burn a hole in my brain. Now was not the time. I wouldnt give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. If my hands had been free, I could have turned his teeth into mush, but as it was, all I could do was ignore him and struggle to my feet. It wasnt easy, but I made it. Drucker looked disappointed. Oh well, he said, and sighed theatrically. Lets not keep the big cheese waiting. He went up the steps and opened the door to the house. Can you walk? Warren asked me. The gun was in his hand again. I dont know. I feel pretty dizzy. Maybe if you took the cuffs off... COLDER THAN BLOOD 213 ED ROWE

He gestured with the gun. Maybe if I shoved this up your arse His hooked nose wrinkled with amusement. Now move! Its not easy looking tough with your hands pinned behind your back and your face half bashed in, but I think I managed it. Drucker went ahead while his men guided me up the steps and into the mansion. All three kept well out of kick range. I glanced down at my feet as I walked; the bulge of the nunchakas didnt look too noticeable. The door led into that familiar hallway with the orange crucifix wallpaper. Instead of New Age music, the sound system now piped an eerie piece full of thunder and crashing waves. Id only just escaped this nightmarish place a few short hours ago, and now fate had dragged me back again. We headed up the main staircase. Drucker fell into step beside me. I could smell onions on his breath. Do you know whats ironic? he asked. What? In theory, Christians dont condone murder. Thou shalt not kill and all that Ten Commandments crap. How comforting, I said dryly. So instead of calling it murder, Drucker went on, they come up with all these loopholes and call it purification of sins instead. He snorted. You ever read the bible? Full of people stoning each other and calling down the wrath of God on their unfaithful wives. Its a hoot, I tell you. I can scarcely contain my amusement. Anyway, all it means is that youll still die an agonising death, he said. Itll just be in the name of holy goodness. He sniggered. Kind of ironic, dont you think? The irony is lost on me. We reached the second storey landing. Drucker gripped my shoulder and ushered me up the next flight of stairs. It seemed we were going all the way to the top. He steered me down yet another orange hallway until we reached a heavy wooden door. A plaque above the door read CHAPEL. I could hear people chanting inside. Well, I guess this is goodbye, faggot, Drucker said. Only religious nuts allowed, unfortunately. He gave a little disappointed shrug. Not that I wouldnt love to be part of the action-packed climax of your short life, he drawled nastily, but what can I do? Its those religious loopholes again. COLDER THAN BLOOD 214 ED ROWE

I was confused. Then why are you here? The corner of his moustache lifted into a knowing sneer. Mop-up crew. Never one to give up a case, I said, Like you mopped up Tess? He shrugged easily. Sure. It takes talent to dispose of a stiff properly. Alistair pays well for such professional talent. He actually sounded proud of himself. My blood was boiling. And what about Duong? Did you kill him for free? Kill him? He looked mildly amused. Hey, I might have roasted his chestnuts a little to get him yapping, but once he was good and crispy, I just left him there to marinate. His moustache fanned out into an ugly leer. Maybe the bible brigade came over afterwards for some late night barbecue I heard Warren chuckling at his bosss joke and it made me angry. You vicious bastards! Duong didnt know anything. He knew how to burn, Drucker said bluntly. His words froze the very marrow in my bones. My mind suddenly filled with horror and I couldnt think of a single thing to say. All I could think was: And Im next Drucker broke the silence with three sharp knocks on the door. The chanting inside stopped. One of the thugs nudged me forward. So youre nothing more than an errand boy, I spat at Drucker weakly, desperate to get under his skin somehow. Cleaning up other peoples messes. And being paid well for it, he agreed cheerfully. You should thank me actually, Jack. Im going to make you a celebrity. Tomorrow, the cops will get an anonymous tip off. Theyll find the murder knife that killed Tess and Duong in your apartment, with your prints on it. Your toothbrush, clothes, and car will all disappear, and so will you. Youll be on the most wanted list for years. My mouth felt dry. Itll never work. Sure it will, Drucker said. Youll be dead, the fuzz will be diverted, and my favourite former lawyer will continue to buy premium dope to keep his God Squad happy. He gestured towards the chapel door. Right now, some of those freaks are flying so high they can see Gods bald spot. He laughed at his own joke, and his two sycophant muscle boys chimed in right on cue. He leaned over and whispered in COLDER THAN BLOOD 215 ED ROWE

my ear with awful deliberation. Man, you should have seen what they did to Tess. When theyre that far gone, theyre capable of anything... I worked my mouth to say something snappy, but nothing came out. I knew then that I was really going to die. The chapel door groaned open. Tristan and Rob had changed into white robes that flowed down to their shoes. They stood on either side of me, firmly gripping my shoulders. Even with the cuffs, they were taking no chances. Well, this is it, Jack, Drucker said. Well be downstairs watching your swansong on TV. Alistair has a simply marvellous live feed system in his office, he explained. Youre going to be a snuff star, Jack Marsh. It was my final opportunity. Youre a sick piece of filth, Kurt Drucker. Drucker sneered. He pushed his moustache closer and puffed a gust of onion-breath at my face. With two fingers, he pinched my left nipple hard through my shirt. It took all of my willpower to stare him down without wincing. Oh, and one more thing, he said casually, giving a ghastly parody of a smile. Do try to die like a man, wont you, instead of just screaming and pissing your pants like a pansy. He flashed me one last smarmy look, and then he and his men headed off down the stairs laughing. My nipple burned as if it had been twisted in half. When they had gone, Tristan pushed me roughly towards the open door. This way, hell-fiend, he said, and we went into the killing room.

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Chapter Twenty-Three
he chapel was enormous, almost the size of an actual small church, its high ceiling tapering up to an apex of dark shadows. More cultists wearing long white robes turned their heads to watch me enter. The curtains had been closed and murky red candles tucked into slots along the walls, already lit and reeking of incense. The flickering light inked the faces of those present with demonic colours and patterns. Hoffman stood at the end of a long line of red carpet that stretched across the floor like a lascivious tongue. He wore a flowing robe with gold tassels. Behind him, a full-scale wooden cross had been bolted upright to the floor. It looked like the one Jesus had worn to his big party. I noticed leather arm and leg restraints attached to the cross. Not a good omen. A video camera had been positioned on a tripod at the back of the room, its lens peering up the length of the red carpet towards the cross like a solitary baleful eye. A cable snaked from the camera to the wall, and presumably from there to the TV in Hoffmans office, where Drucker would be watching the show with his yes-men and passing around the popcorn. Behold, the impure one has come to us this day for cleansing! boomed Hoffman, and all heads turned towards him. We who are clean of soul and pure of heart will pray for his salvation at the hands of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen, chanted the crowd. In addition to Hoffman and the two men holding me, I counted six other cultists standing in rows beside the red carpet. Each wore a white robe and held a lit candle at chest level. Not everyone from the bible study meeting was present; these were evidently the handful that could be trusted with murder. Vanessa smiled at me, her eyes bright with teenage excitement, or drugs, or maybe both. The twin sisters Faye and Samantha watched me warily, as if I might suddenly sprout horns and a forked tail. The odd couple, Paul and Kirsty, looked giddy with dope and bloodlust. And, dressed like a virgin in her own white robe, Crystal stood at the front of her row, hands folded demurely. She saw me looking and quickly lowered her eyes. Our church, Hoffman went on, seeks only to worship the love that our Lord has given to us. We are Gods chosen, and together we have found a love too powerful to be denied. His face was flushed and COLDER THAN BLOOD 217 ED ROWE

sweaty, a hot mania brewing in his eyes. He withdrew a long ornamental knife from the folds of his robe. It had an ornate Arabian pommel with coloured jewels studded into the handle. It looked sharp. But in his infinite treachery, Satan tries to destroy our love by swaying us with evil doubts. He sends demons to attack and tear down our faith with lies and false accusations. Hoffmans voice boomed with passion, as if he actually believed his own nonsense. Maybe he really did. Maybe hed been staring at the insane face in the mirror for so long that it had started talking back to him. The devil has possessed this poor man you see before you, he said. Together we must drive out the demon and restore love to the impure ones heart. Only then will God have mercy on his soul. He raised his arms to his followers. Who among us will serve the Lord in this duty? We will, the cultists chanted. Who among us will act out of love to save this mans soul from damnation? We will. Who among us will stand up and fight evil in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord? he shouted. We will! they roared. Hoffman lowered his arms. A satisfied smile flitted around the edges of his beard. Then let the impure one be brought to the cross, he said softly. Tristan steered me down the length of carpet towards Hoffman. My heart was pounding hard and pumping adrenaline into my system. I still felt dizzy, but the rest of me was ready for action. Tristan kept his grip on my shoulder as I faced the mad priest. Have you any sins you wish to confess, demon? Hoffman asked. Nothing you could print in a church newsletter, I said more bravely than I felt. Oh, but you will confess, he said. He tucked the knife back inside his robes and sighed theatrically. We will scour the evil from you, no matter how long it takes. He nodded to my guards. Strap him in. Tristan tried to drag me back towards the cross, while Rob moved to unfasten its leather restraints. Hoffman, wait! I said, stalling for time. Youre a reasonable man. Surely we can straighten out this this misunderstanding. I stared into Hoffmans eyes. He didnt look reasonable at all; he looked COLDER THAN BLOOD 218 ED ROWE

insane. He met my gaze and raised his lips in a knowing smirk. He knows hes mad, I thought, and he doesnt even care. He held up a hand and Tristan stopped shoving at me. Hoffman reached out and patted my cheek, his expression fatherly. Jack, despite what you might think, we are here to save you. I gave you a chance to join us. You could have devoted yourself to Jesus and done great things for our church. He shook his head sadly as though weighed down by a great, sorry responsibility. Hed probably perfected the act during his lawyer days, miming dismay and dignified gravity before countless juries. He added a leaden sigh that clearly conveyed his terrible burden to the crowd. But instead you chose to let the devil into your heart and to turn away from our love. I was sick of listening to his rubbish. Ive seen your idea of love, Reverend, I said. I nodded towards the cultists. You fill their heads with drugs and religious hogwash until theyre just puppets waiting for you to twitch the strings. Youre just a pervert with a power fetish. He reddened slightly, but covered it well with a patient smile. I teach my followers the love of God, Jack. Sex is a natural extension of that love. It is nothing to be ashamed of. This is the twenty-first century. Were not superstitious peasants living in the Dark Ages of sexual repression anymore. His voice lifted into a patterned sermon tone, speaking as much to his followers as to me. Love and sex are Gods gifts to humanity. In the moment of orgasm, we come as close to the bliss of Heaven as any mortal can. God meant for us to enjoy our bodies and to share them with those we love. Does that include using drugs to brainwash pretty girls into giving their consent? Hoffman suppressed a sneer. Try to understand that drugs in themselves are not evil, Jack. Just like with sex, only peoples motives can be considered good or bad. In combination with the power of prayer and the support of fellow Christians, drugs are a useful tool that can guide us closer to God. He turned to face the crowd and smiled at them warmly. My children, has it not increased your faith in God to have tasted but a hint of the ecstasy that Heaven has to offer? There were several nods and murmurs of agreement. He turned back to me and his smile grew cold. When one has flown close to God, Jack, as we have, then the knowledge of His love becomes impossible to deny. Here in my church, he went on, before I could get a contrary word COLDER THAN BLOOD 219 ED ROWE

in, love is the only thing that matters. It must be created between people and not selfishly hoarded in one heart alone. I teach my followers to embrace love and become one with the group. As individuals, they were like sheep: alone, frightened, and in constant danger of being devoured by wolves. But now, with Gods gifts of love and guidance, they are strong and they are happy. His mouth assembled itself into a humble smile, but beneath the whiskers of his beard I could still see his cruel arrogance. I am simply the shepherd helping my people to find their way. I said, Youre insane, Hoffman. Stark, raving mad. Somebody should put you down like a rabid sheepdog. Hoffmans skin darkened under his beard, but he kept his plastic expression of sympathy locked in place for the benefit of the crowd. I can see that the devil has a firm hold on you, Jack. You may be interested to know that it took nearly five hours to purify Tess of the evil that had infested her. He licked his lips with nasty deliberation. She had to make many painful sacrifices before the demon inside her finally released her soul. You mad bastard! Somebody should He leaned towards me and sneered maliciously. But of course, hers was only a minor demon, a trickster which whispered doubts in her ear to try to fool her into spreading lies about our church to the authorities. His mask was totally down now; the madness writhed in his face like grey worms under the skin. Your demon, on the other hand, appears to be far more stubborn. I suspect it may take a lot longer to purge all of the evil from you. He stepped back and nodded to Rob and Tristan. Strap him down! Tristan had the handcuff keys. He bent behind me and tried to find the keyhole. This was it; it was now or never. I tensed my muscles, waiting for the click. But it must have shown in my face too early. Rob suddenly tackled me and bent me over in a headlock. He rammed my back against the cross. Tristan darted in and I felt the cuffs snap loose and his hands clamp around my wrists instead. I struggled wildly, howling with rage, but together they were too strong. Slowly, inexorably, they forced each of my hands into the restraints and strapped them tight. I fought like a madman, but there was no contest. I was stretched out from arm to arm. My chest felt taut and my COLDER THAN BLOOD 220 ED ROWE

shoulder joints tugged painfully in their sockets. I turned my head and saw old bloodstains on the wood of the cross. I kicked out when they went for my legs, but they caught my feet easily and bore me down. Rob found the nunchakas right away. Tristan, theres something He tugged at my trouser leg and his eyes widened. Hey look! Hes got some of those kung fu sticks hidden in his sock! Theyre called nunchakas, you moron, I said. Rob slid the rods out of my pants leg and rapped me on the chest with them. Yeah, well you wont be doing any chucking with these, will you, moron? He sniggered and tossed the weapon onto the floor behind the cross. I felt like wiping the smirk off his chunky face with one of the shurikens that were now well out of reach in my back pockets. Tristan forced my feet down and fastened the long leather strap at the base of the cross around my ankles. He double-checked all the bindings and then stepped back to inspect his work. I was neatly pinned like a bug in a display case. I cursed myself for not having made my move sooner. Id waited too long, hoping for a perfect opportunity that never came. And now it was too late. Once I was secured, Tristan and Rob moved back to stand with the other cultists. I strained against my bonds, but they were tighter than a skinflints grip on a wallet. And now, let us begin the purification, Hoffman said. The cultists gazed at him with rapturous expressions. As our Lord Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, so too will the impure one be saved this day. Amen, chanted the group. For only through the agony of purification, Hoffman boomed, his eyes glittering, only through the white-hot, excruciating agony that Jesus himself endured will the demon inside this man be cast out and his soul released. Amen. A few of the cultists looked a little green. I guessed most of them had been here when Tess had been butchered; they knew what was coming. But Hoffmans words acted like an electric voltage on their minds: whenever he spoke, those flickers of doubt disappeared and their faces soon became blank and shiny and obedient again. Hoffman reached into a fold in his robes and withdrew a familiar gold necklace. This crucifix belonged to Tess, he told me, fingering it COLDER THAN BLOOD 221 ED ROWE

lovingly. A small connection to God which helped her to transcend her purification. He stepped closer. I give it to you now, in the hope that God will take mercy on you also in your time of suffering. I didnt resist as Hoffman put the cross around my neck. The metal felt cold against my skin, but in a strange way it also felt sadly comforting, as if the spirit of Tess had been imbued in the metal and she were whispering regrets in my ear. Crystal, Hoffman said in a commanding tone, without taking his eyes off me. Yes, Reverend? Her voice was barely a croak. Hoffman spoke without turning to face her, his mouth twisted into a cruel leer that only I could see. You have been tainted by the impure ones evil, Crystal. You will make the first sacrifice, so as to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Lord. Yes, Reverend. She came forward, her head bowed subserviently. Hoffman retrieved the ornamental knife from his robes and placed it so that it lay across his outstretched palms. Crystal took it reverentially, as if it were a holy relic. The knifes sharp edge glinted wickedly in the candlelight. The room was silent, expectant. Crystal looked up at me, the knife trembling in her hand. Her face was turbulent with conflicting emotions. Im so sorry, Jack, she whispered. Her hand tightened on the hilt of the blade. Crystal, no! I shouted. This is murder! You have to cut me loose! I cant, Jack. I must I have to save you. Save me? I had to get through to her. Listen to yourself, Crystal. Cant you see how crazy this is? No true Christian would ever do anything like this. I saw doubt shimmering in her eyes and pressed my advantage. Hoffman is the devil here, not me! But Hoffman placed a powerful hand on her shoulder. My child, you must not believe the demons lies, he said in a reassuring tone. This is no longer your friend Jack speaking. It is the demon within him that you hear begging for its infernal life. We must snuff it out before it can infect us all with doubts and sinful thoughts. There were murmurs of assent from the crowd. Tears ran suddenly down Crystals cheeks. I cant do it, Reverend. I I love him! Her eyes pleaded with Hoffman for mercy. His face darkened and he puffed himself up to his full commanding COLDER THAN BLOOD 222 ED ROWE

height. There is no longer a man in that body. It is but a demon! he boomed. Have you fallen in love with a demon, Crystal Mainwaring? She shrank away from him in terror. No no, Reverend. I Do you need to be purified as well? he roared. He shot her a withering look of disgust. Hurry, child! Strike now that the Lord may forgive your hesitation! Confusion and uncertainty swam across Crystals face. She faced me again and raised the knife. Her mouth mimed Im sorry, Im sorry, Im sorry without sound. She pointed the knife at my chest, all the while begging my forgiveness with her eyes. Please, Crystal! I cried out, my voice hoarse and desperate. Please dont let me die like Duong! Her face collapsed in on itself for a moment as comprehension, or something like it, slammed into her. A great gasping sob burst from her lips, and for a split second, I thought Id gotten through to her. And then, just as quickly, the uncertainty cleared. Resolve hardened her face. She raised her eyes to mine for a last, silent goodbye, and then brought the knife flashing towards me

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he bite of steel didnt come. Instead, Crystal stepped to the side and sliced through the leather restraint that held my right arm. I jolted with surprise as my wrist snapped free. Everything happened at once. Hoffman screamed No! and punched Crystal in the back of the head. She cried out and fell, the knife clattering to the floor beside her. Hoffman darted in and stooped to pick it up. But I was moving fast as well. I slid my fingers between my butt and the cross, and yanked a shuriken from my back pocket. The points cut my fingers as I stretched over and slashed the sharp edge across the other restraint. The leather ripped easily and now both my hands were loose. The other cultists had only just started to react. Hoffman came for me with the knife raised high. No time to deal with the ankle restraint. I dropped the shuriken and dived forward, launching myself underneath the knife, and double-punched Hoffman in the stomach with both fists. The impact folded him like a sledgehammer through cardboard. We crashed to the floor, gravity and momentum causing my heels to pop out from under the strap. The knife grazed a furrow along my back as I landed hard on top of Hoffman, my weight slamming the breath out of him. I rolled fast as he lashed out with a roar of rage. The blade stabbed down and skidded along the red carpet. I rolled again, out of range, and sprang to my feet. Hoffman stayed down, doubled over and wheezing. Near the base of the cross, Crystal lay in a limp bundle, unconscious. The rest of the room was motion and chaos. A cultist jumped at me in an attempted tackle. I pivoted instinctively and plugged him on the chin with an uppercut. His eyes rolled up to whites and he crumpled. It was the weedy guy, name forgotten, and he was out of it. But more were coming. Tristan had held back long enough to take off his robe so that he could fight more freely. Smart move. He edged towards me warily, his fists up in a boxing stance. His fat buddy Rob moved in the opposite direction to flank me. Tristans face pulsated with snarling violence. I backed up, moving into the area behind the cross as they advanced. COLDER THAN BLOOD 224 ED ROWE

Keeping the wall at my back, I took out two more shurikens and held one in each hand where the pair could see them. I didnt want to use them unless I had to. But still they kept advancing. Rob roared and charged at me, his head down like a bulls. I flicked my wrist and spun a shuriken at him. It missed, shaving past his shoulder, and he rushed ahead blindly, windmilling his arms while Tristan made a dive for my legs. I spun around and brought my knee up hard into Tristans face. His nose exploded in a spray of blood and he went down. But he had my shins pinned in a bear grip, and as I went down with him, Robs heavy body slammed on top of me as if we were all in a rugby scrum. I was flat on my back and couldnt manoeuvre. Rob threw a punch that connected with the side of my neck. I realised I was still holding the second shuriken. I lashed out with it and embedded it into the meat of his fist. He recoiled with a yelp, and I took the opportunity to twist my torso and buck him off me. He backed away on his knees, clutching his ruined hand. Tristans arms were still locked around my legs. Blood streamed from his nose and a grim glow of determination shone in his eyes. I pounded my fists against the top of his head and thrashed my legs until his grip loosened, then scuttled away from him in a crab-crawl. My hand skidded on something hard and tubular. My nunchakas. The instant I had them in my hand, I felt a fresh surge of adrenaline. I stood, oriented the weapon in my hand, and spun it around my elbow three times. I grinned wickedly, like the demon I was supposed to be. Tristan staggered to his feet to face me. Blood had splashed all down the front of his shirt. He shifted into his relentless boxers crouch, a stoic gladiator collecting his strength for a final fight to the death. If he got too close, I realised, Id have no room to swing the nunchakas. It was just me and Tristan now. Rob huddled on the floor whimpering over his hand, while the female cultists had helped Hoffman over to the back wall, from where they warily watched the action from a distance. Tristan and I studied each other like frozen warriors, each waiting for the other to make his move. Youll burn, hell-fiend, he said with a blood-spitting gurgle. Youll burn in the fires of hell for eternity. He sprang at me then, as quick as a snake, but his hook punch telegraphed itself too early. I shot a fast front kick at full power into his belly. As he buckled, I swung the COLDER THAN BLOOD 225 ED ROWE

nunchakas up and put him out with a cracking blow under the chin. He dropped like an anchor. That, I told his unconscious form, was my fire extinguisher. The door to the room crashed open. Drucker yelled, Freeze! and entered with the gun outstretched in both hands. His men crowded the doorway behind him. Druckers moustache cocked up in a sneer as he spotted me. I dived behind the cross just as the gun went off. A bullet thudded into the wooden frame, centimetres from my face. The cross wouldnt protect me for long. I crouched as low as I could, clawing frantically at my back pockets. I still had three shurikens. As Drucker narrowed his aim for another shot, I launched all three at once. It was a panic throw, poorly timed. Only one of the deadly throwing stars found its mark, spearing into Druckers shoulder. He shrieked a high-pitched girly squeal and fired reflexively, but hed been knocked off balance and it went wide. The gun dropped from his spasming fingers. Warren and Lucas rushed past him and into the room, ready to defend their boss. I was up and racing towards them before anybody could react. As Lucas reached for the fallen gun, Warren stepped forward to block me and I weaved to the side and tripped him with a low sweep kick. At the same time, I was swinging the nunchakas in a lethal circle around my shoulder to build up speed. As Warren stumbled away, I completed the arc and brought twelve inches of solid agony smashing straight down onto Lucass outstretched wrist. Lucas howled as the sound of shattering bone rang in the air. Not stopping for a moment, I slammed my foot hard into his chest. He cannonballed backwards and his head crashed against the wall, putting him out like a snuffed candle. Drucker wasnt in sight. I made the mistake of looking down for the gun, and Warren came rushing out of the shadows and bulled into me with his massive shoulder, almost lifting me off the ground. We stumbled across the room before overbalancing, crashing heavily onto the floor like two wrestlers playing for the crowd. The gun had been kicked away and was nowhere to be seen. But I still had the nunchakas, even if I didnt have room to swing them. As Warrens fist sailed towards my head, I bashed it out of the way with the hard weapon. He barely flinched, even though it must have broken COLDER THAN BLOOD 226 ED ROWE

every knuckle in his hand. He threw another punch which caught me on the jaw and set my head reeling. As I gasped, he grunted in triumph, and then suddenly propelled his head forward in an attempted headbutt. I didnt plan what happened next. I instinctively brought up the nunchakas to try to block the blow. Warrens left eye slammed hard into the blunt end of one of the rods. The other end was driven into the floor, and the rod sank deep with an awful squelching sound. I let go of the weapon immediately, but it was too late. Warrens whole body stiffened and jerked. A ghastly gagging sound bubbled from his lips. I rolled away from him, horrified, his huge body offering no resistance now. The jerking intensified and I saw his lone eye swivelling crazily, as if wondering why its mate had stopped talking to it. He clawed at the nunchakas, trying to pull them out, but blood and eye fluid had made the weapon slippery. I felt like throwing up. He huddled into a foetal ball and began making loud, keening whimpers of pain and shock. Somebody was screaming. These people werent soldiers, they were scared children thrust into a situation they didnt understand. You can lead a sheep into the slaughterhouse, but not onto a noisy battlefield. Two of the cultists the twin sisters, it looked like made a break for the door. They distracted me for only a moment, but it was enough. Drucker appeared suddenly out of the dimness, kicking at me before I could get up, his face stretched with hatred. I rolled and took the stomp high on my back, rolled again as Drucker aimed another kick at my head and missed. I grabbed his ankle before he could withdraw, and twisted. He lost his balance and tumbled, and in an instant I was upon him. I straddled him and seized a handful of shirt to keep him on his back. The shuriken was still embedded in his shoulder, blood oozing like treacle all down his arm. I raised my fist and his face paled. Around me, I sensed terrified cultists fleeing the chapel, but I had eyes only for my enemy. Ive been saving this for you, Drucker, I said in a voice of pure granite, and smashed my fist into his filthy moustache as hard as I could. Lips split and teeth crunched like chalk. His eyes blanked out and he went as limp as a wet sock. I stood up slowly, adrenaline pounding through my arteries. It was all that kept me on my feet. My vision kept threatening to blur. If I lost my momentum, I knew, dizziness and exhaustion would soon follow. It COLDER THAN BLOOD 227 ED ROWE

was time to hurry up and finish this. Hoffman hadnt taken his chance to evacuate. He stood propped against the back wall, supported by Vanessa. They watched me warily as I approached. Everybody else had either fled or was lying unconscious on the floor. Hoffmans face looked sweaty and sagging. Hed lost, and he knew it, but he was still dangerous. He held the sacrificial knife loosely at his side. Its over, Hoffman, I said. Youre going to jail. He still had enough strength for a lecture. The Lord will protect me, demon. But know that He will have no mercy on your soul. Vanessa shrieked and rushed at me with her fingernails scrunched into hooks meant for my eyes. I sidestepped and avoided her easily, but she bounced back and clawed at my face again, screeching like a wildcat, her mouth a big O until I put a reluctant fist in it to shut her up. She slumped against me and I eased her to the floor. I stepped around her to face Hoffman. Drop the knife, Hoffman. Youre finished. The Lord will protect He stabbed out with the blade in midsentence, trying to catch me off guard. But I was way past having any of that. I slapped the knife out of his hand. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something. I jammed an uppercut into his chin and the mouth closed. His head wobbled as if it were on a spring. Im not a Christian, I said. I dont heed prayers. I advanced on him menacingly. Hoffmans eyes had no authority left in them now, only fear. I raised my hands where he could see them and knuckled them into rocks of revenge. Youre the one going to hell, Hoffman. And Im going to chauffeur you right to the gate... A clattering sound made me look around. Drucker had woken up unexpectedly, or hed been faking, and now hed found the gun. My stomach dropped down into my balls like a sack of ice as the overpowering realisation of error swept through me. Id fucked up; I hadnt secured the situation the way I should have if Id been following my karate training correctly. I was exposed, with nowhere to run. Druckers face was a bloody mess of chipped teeth and mangled lips, but his eyes still gleamed with triumph as he brought the gun around to bear on me

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hen theres no cover, you have to improvise some. I grabbed Hoffman and spun him in front of me as a shield, tightening my forearm around his throat hard enough to make him sputter. Drop the gun or Ill crush this bastards windpipe! I yelled. Drucker paused, the gun extended in his wavering left hand. His right arm hung limply, the shuriken still protruding from his shoulder. Behind him, Tristan was starting to wake up. My odds were slipping again. Let go of Alistair, faggot, Drucker said. His voice sounded like bubbling acid coming through his damaged mouth. Not a chance, I said, and increased the headlock by a notch. Hoffmans complexion darkened and a choked gurgle came out of him. Drucker took an angry step towards us. Let go of him now, you filthy poofter! In that instant, I realised the sad truth about Kurt Drucker. It pained me to have to resort to sledging, but there was a chance that I could use his secret to my advantage. Hey, Drucker, I said carelessly. You want to know something? He sneered. I know everything. Then youd know that youve got some serious closet homosexual issues. The skin around his eyes tightened and I knew I had my finger on the nerve. All that homophobic ranting and raving, I pressed on. I rolled my eyes theatrically. Man! Why dont you just come out already? He went scarlet whether with rage or shame, I couldnt tell. Veins stood out in his neck and his moustache wriggled like a moth trapped at a window. You shut up! he forced out. His finger tightened on the trigger. I tried to keep as much of myself behind Hoffman as possible. Havent you heard? I taunted him. Its okay to be gay these days, Drucker. This isnt the shameful seventies anymore. Shut up, you stinking liar! Tears brimmed in his eyes. The gun shook wildly in his hand. Its not true. None of it is true! Stop denying yourself and admit what youve always known. I COLDER THAN BLOOD 229 ED ROWE

coated every word with scorn. You like men, dont you, Drucker? Maybe you wouldnt be such a messed-up psychopath if youd just Shut up, damn you! Drucker screamed, his cheeks burning. Hoffman must have realised what I was trying to do. Somehow he managed to get words out from under my chokehold. No, Kurt! Hes just trying to make you Its a lie! Drucker screamed. I never The gun went off. Just once. The bullet caught Hoffman in the stomach. Blood exploded from his gut like a burst water balloon. The impact rocked him back against me and, horrified, I let go of his throat. He collapsed onto the floor with a wet sound. Druckers mouth hung slack in shock at what hed done. Perfect silence stretched out for one long, almost holy moment. But then the hatred cranked back into his eyes. He raised the gun, and now there was nothing left between me and a bullet but empty space. Hell-fiend! Tristans voice reverberated throughout the room like a war cry. He sprang at Drucker, his face mutated with rage. You killed the Reverend! The gun roared again as Drucker was bulldozed off his feet, and I heard the bullet smack into flesh. Tristan merely grunted, never losing momentum as he propelled Drucker towards the curtained windows. No! I shouted, seeing his intention, but it was too late. Glass shattered as they smashed through the window, tearing the curtain from its rails. Drucker shrieked as he fell, all the way to the ground three storeys below. I winced at the sound of the thud and the silence that followed. Cold air began to blow through the remains of the window. As I watched, the breeze extinguished one of those awful red candles. A cough got my attention. My fists bulged as I turned to face Hoffman for the last time. He spat out a wad of blood and focused wobbly eyes on me. Look what youve done to me! he said, his voice shaky with disbelief. He looked like a gutted fish trying to hold back the gore gushing from its belly with uncooperative fins. How could the Lord let this happen to me? To me, His faithful servant? His arrogance enraged me. Even now, as he sat there dying on the floor, he still thought he was in the right. He still believed that what hed done to Tess was proper. Well, I wouldnt let him have his COLDER THAN BLOOD 230 ED ROWE

comforting madness. Dont die yet, you filth, I snarled, looming over him. You havent been purified yet. He grabbed the knife from the floor and thrust it out in front of him. Stay back! Lord, protect me from this demon! The Lord wont get here in time to save you, I said, advancing towards him. Weve got hours of purification ahead of us yet. I took another step, not giving a damn about the knife. At that moment, I wasnt thinking rationally at all. I just wanted to hurt him, hurt him bad, like hed hurt so many people. And so I said it, said that awful thing, it came slashing out of my mouth without warning. I said: Ill give you something else to remember me by It terrified him. Maybe he saw the horrors hed inflicted on Tess reflected in my expression. Maybe he saw that there was nothing pure about dying with a thousand screams after all. His eyes squeezed shut and he suddenly reversed his grip on the knife, both hands clutching the hilt, and drove the blade inwards. Wait! I shouted, reaching for him, but it was too late. With an audible crunch, Reverend Alistair Hoffman stabbed himself through his robes, the blade penetrating his chest. He made a moist, sighing sound and blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. I backed away, unable to do anything but watch. Hoffmans hands spasmed on the hilt of the knife, his fingers jittering around it as though it were a flute, until he finally managed to grasp it and push the blade in deeper. His eyes sought out mine and he gave me one last smirk of defiance. I beat you to it, his expression seemed to say. Ill be a martyr now. And then his mouth relaxed into the first genuine smile Id seen him make. It was the smile of someone whod found what he had always been searching for. His hands fell away from the knife and he slumped over, dead, his sightless eyes staring ahead into the next world at whatever creatures shambled there. It was over. I was exhausted. I got my feet moving anyway. Every muscle in my body twanged and pinged like a hot engine after a race. Dizziness lurked at the edges of my vision and threatened to overwhelm me. It was probably a good time to leave. I walked past the bodies of the dead, the unconscious, and the groaning. Lucas was still out cold against the wall, his broken arm twisted horribly as if it had grown an extra joint. Warren had managed to work the nunchakas out of his eye. The weapon lay there glistening COLDER THAN BLOOD 231 ED ROWE

beside him. I didnt want it anymore; he could keep it for a souvenir. I hobbled over to the smashed window and squinted out into the approaching night. Tristan lay sprawled in a mess of broken glass and curtain fabric with his neck at an unlikely angle. I couldnt see Drucker. He must have survived the fall and escaped. I cursed his infernal luck. I went to Crystal and lifted an eyelid, but she was further out than low tide. Straining my spent muscles, I hoisted her over my shoulders in a firemans carry. She was heavy and I staggered a lot, but we made it to the chapel door. I took one last look at Hoffman, the great fallen preacher lying in a pool of his own blood. I felt neither guilt nor satisfaction; I felt nothing. I was too tired even to sneer. I dont know how I got down the stairs. Crystal was a dead weight on my shoulders, but some dim spark of determination kept me going. The sweet, familiar smell of her skin was offset by the chemical tang of the drugs Hoffman had primed her with. Her breathing sounded erratic. I could only hope she was okay. At the bottom of the stairs, I realised that one of the others still had my car keys. To hell with it; I was too wrecked to go back up for them. I gritted my teeth and kept moving. Every so often, I heard muffled screams coming from elsewhere in the house. I ignored them and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Crystal kept gaining weight with every step. Finally I made it to the front door. The door had been flung open, probably by a fleeing cultist, and the evening air was cool and crisp. The evil outside world didnt smell bad at all. I stumbled out into the driveway. Tristans brown van was parked beside the fountain. It seemed emasculated somehow, a harmless tool now that its owner lay broken nearby in a jumble of smashed body parts. I didnt pause to think; I yanked the passenger door open, manoeuvred Crystal inside, and strapped her in place with the seatbelt. My shoulders hummed with relief. I got in behind the wheel. The stolen key was right there in the stolen ignition. My lucky day at last. Poetic justice, I told the unconscious girl next to me. I had no idea what I meant. The adrenaline rush had started to fade, and I could feel myself slipping into a state of shock. I turned the key and the engine rumbled its deep bass. I floored the accelerator and the van bulleted forward towards freedom. Tesss gold crucifix still hung around my neck; it bounced against my chest like a second heartbeat. My mind felt numb; I had COLDER THAN BLOOD 232 ED ROWE

gone beyond instinct now, beyond exhaustion. The gate ahead was closed. It didnt matter; I just planted my foot down harder. I was about three hundred horrors past caring by now. The van smashed into the gate and the heavy iron wings exploded from the wall as the bull-bar powered through them like a medieval battering ram. Crystal and I were both jolted hard against our seatbelts. The van cleared the wreckage, wobbled out onto the road, and stopped. Its engine sputtered and died, dark steam pouring up from the bonnet. The dragon that had carried Tess away in its belly had been slain, but it had redeemed itself first. Three houses down the street, an old lady scurried out onto her porch to see what all the commotion was. She nearly fainted at the sight of me blundering towards her like walking hamburger meat and carrying an unconscious girl in my arms, but then she kindly let me use her phone to call the police.

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Chapter Twenty-Six

Well, Jack, if you can spare a few minutes of your valuable time, Detective Sergeant Pearl said smoothly, there are a few more things Id like to clear up. I kneaded the ridge of brow between my tired eyes. Even now, a week since the nightmare at the chapel, I could still feel the aftershocks of the concussion Id sustained. Are you there, Mr. Celebrity? Or are you too busy counting your reward money? She said it with an edge that I didnt appreciate. It had been a long week. A government official had reluctantly handed me a reward cheque for five grand. The face hed pulled, youd have thought it came out of his own pension. Some handshaking mayor kept threatening to pin a medal on me. The cops had put me through paperwork hell before releasing my car from the evidence impound. And then the journalists had attacked in swarms until theyd stung everything newsworthy out of me. Id made the fame journey from front page to letters page, and in another week Id be anonymous again. I was tired of it all. I didnt need Pearl harping at me, not now. And besides, I had big plans for that money, none of which was any of her damn business. I said, Yeah, Im here. Leave me alone. Youre not going to hang up on me again, are you? Now theres an idea. I hefted the glass of whisky the doctors had told me I couldnt have, and put it to good use. I rubbed the phone against my unshaven chin to give her an earful of bristle music. What do you want, Pearl? She cleared her throat and I heard her shuffling papers. Well, as you know, in addition to the recording of the fight, we also found the video that Hoffman made of Tess Hinleys murder. Youve watched it then? Yes. Her tone contained all the horror and sadness in the world. I had no interest in the details. I wanted to keep my last memory of Tess sweet and unspoiled, like the kiss wed shared under the wattle tree. But I had to know one thing. Was Crystal in the video? No, shes in the clear. She didnt know anything about it. Hoffman COLDER THAN BLOOD 234 ED ROWE

hat is it now? I snarled into the phone.

probably didnt want to risk involving her because he knew how close she was to Tess. I sighed with relief. I had a date with Crystal scheduled for tomorrow. The audios bad, but well get half a dozen convictions if the judge allows the tape, Pearl said. Hoffman made sure every one of those poor kids had a turn with the knife. He screwed with their heads in the worst possible way. He screwed something alright, I said dryly, thinking of the other videos Hoffman had made. If Pearl caught my reference, she chose not to acknowledge it. We also found a cache of drugs in the mansion that can be traced back to Drucker, she added. Heroin? Some. Mostly hallucinogenic stuff. Hoffman also had a range of brainwashing textbooks and hypnotic audio tapes. We even found a set of specially reworded bibles that hed tailored to help push his agenda. Yeah, I remember those. Out of curiosity, Id looked up Matthew 7:21 in a proper bible a few days ago. The genuine passage had been significantly less loaded with manipulative language than Hoffmans twisted travesty. We were quiet for a moment. I wondered why Pearl was being so free with information. I could hear her controlled breathing. I took the opportunity to liberate my glass of some of the liquid weighing it down. Pearl cleared her throat and said hoarsely, Look, Jack, the reason I called was to to tell you that you did the right thing. She exhaled loudly. What Hoffman did to those poor girls well, I just want you to know off the record of course that you did the world a favour putting that pervert down. She sounded sincere enough, but it might still have been a trap. Weve been over this already, Pearl, I said neutrally. Watch the video again. Drucker fired the shot and then Hoffman finished the job himself. I simply defended myself. I could hear the whine in my own voice. I didnt kill anyone. The long silence felt like an accusation, even though Id already been officially cleared on the self-defence aspect. Maybe you didnt kill anyone directly, the silence sneered, but you sure stirred up a lot of death. My forehead felt tight, as if it had been gripped by mental COLDER THAN BLOOD 235 ED ROWE

forceps. Pearl broke the spell by asking, softly, How do you feel, Jack? Id done a lot of hard thinking about that in the past week. Hard, ugly thoughts that even alcohol couldnt fully submerge. It feels like drinking a fine wine, enjoying the hell out of it, and then someone tells you he pissed in your glass. What do you mean? I took a big swallow of my decidedly cheap whisky. Part of me feels fantastic for just making it out of that hellhole alive, I said, trying to put the thoughts into words. For being better than all of those crazies. But? Pearl prompted. The imaginary forceps squeezed tighter. But mostly I just feel rotten. Even though I survived, I feel like Ive killed a part of myself in the process. This was the issue Id been grappling with for a week now. At times, Id felt like toasting my reflection in the mirror as Tesss avenging angel of justice. But then the glory would fade, the horror would return, and Id stand there sober and shivering and unable to look at myself. I kept remembering my last words to Hoffman, the evil that Id unthinkingly exhumed with that one dreadful phrase. I kept wondering if that black part of me which had absorbed the wickedness of the past would surface again. The scar on my cheek burned as heat rushed to my face. Oh yes, you do remember me after all, Jacky boy Im sorry, Jack, Pearl said quietly. She was starting to sound less like a cop. Im sorry you had to go through that all by yourself. I lubricated my tonsils with whisky and let the stillness speak for me. Eloquent thing, silence. It could mean anything you wanted it to. I wish there was some way I could She trailed off. I had the dim impression that there were things lurking unsaid within her own pauses. When she spoke again, her voice was professional once more. About the protection Damn it! My pride sprang up immediately. I already told you no. Just listen to me for one minute, Jack. She sounded frustrated. Druckers still out there with a serious grudge against you. Either that or a crush. I still felt dirty about having provoked COLDER THAN BLOOD 236 ED ROWE

Drucker with his issues; the more jokes I made about it, I hoped, the sooner the guilt would pass. I mean it, Jack, Pearl said. You need our protection. I laughed. Are you kidding me? A cop following me into the dunny every time I take a piss? Its been a week already. Ill take my chances. Pearl let the silence linger for almost a minute that time, presumably to let her disapproval wear me down. I used the time to wear down the waterline of my glass by another inch or two. Finally she spoke, sounding smaller somehow, almost nervous. At least let me check in on you occasionally, to to make sure youre okay. The mental tongs pinched again and my irritation rose up like bile. The whole thing was bad enough without having Pearl soaping me with pity as well. What for? I said nastily. Going to hold it for me while I take that piss? You The indignation stuck in her throat. Id ruined her script, whatever it had been. She made a sound that might have been a hiccup. I hate you! she shouted, and hung up. She wasnt gentle about it. I tried to shrug off the bad encounter with a fresh glass of whisky, but it didnt work. Instead of relaxing me, the booze only made me grouchier. I called Benny to take it out on him, but his phone rang out empty. The only thing to lighten my gloom was the prospect of seeing Crystal again tomorrow. The shrinks had analysed every traumatised synapse in her pretty head and pronounced that shed suffered no serious psychological damage. At least, nothing that a few years worth of hundred-dollar counselling sessions couldnt fix. Crystals parents apparently hadnt been too happy about the idea of her seeing me again after everything that had happened, but shed brushed their concerns aside with indomitable female wilfulness. I wondered if I was man enough to take on the Crystal challenge myself. I busied myself tending to my alfalfa farm. After the vandalism, Id put it back together with Scotch tape and restocked it with fresh seeds. The joins seemed to be holding okay without any leaks. In another day or two, the first new batch would be ready. I was looking forward to filling my tobacco tin again and getting back to a normal routine. The doorbell rang. I scowled at the door. Probably yet another TV crew sniffing for an exclusive interview with the big hero. Theyd been COLDER THAN BLOOD 237 ED ROWE

showing up all week. Maybe just to spite them, I should pocket their money and then sit there in front of the live camera mouthing No comment while their ratings plummeted. I poured another glass of whisky and waited for whoever it was to leave. The bell rang again, and then the fool pounded loudly on the door several times. Coming on top of the aggravation with Pearl, it set me off. I slammed down my glass, stormed over to the door, and yanked it open. Kurt Drucker grinned at me from behind the black muzzle of his gun.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven
ell, well, well, if it isnt Jack Marsh in the flesh again. Arent you glad to see me? Drucker had shaved off his moustache and dyed his hair a watery blond. No disguise could hide those crazy eyes though. Now where are your manners, he jeered. Arent you going to invite me in? He pushed me back into the room and shut the door behind him. Keep backing up, he said, gesturing with the gun. He carried his ominous black leather bag in his other hand and walked with a slight limp. Thats it. Good. Now sit. I balanced on the edge of my chair with my legs gathered under me. But I knew there wouldnt be any easy opportunities this time. Drucker dropped his bag near the door and leaned against the wall across from my desk. The gun in his hand never wavered. He knew my moves now, and was taking no risks. Alistair made a mistake, Drucker said. He sure did, I said through a suddenly parched throat. He should have bought a ten-storey penthouse. Howd you survive that fall? He ignored me. Alistair shouldnt have trusted that girl to do a mans job. He rubbed at the pale skin where his moustache had been. Stupid amateurs! If hed only let me take care of things professionally, hed still be alive. Youd be dead, business would be good, and my men would still be by my side instead of in the prison hospital. By your side, huh? He coloured pink and shook his head. No, no, no. You wont bait me this time, Jack Marsh. I dont care how many times you call me a gay homo. Youll never tempt me to give in to He stopped abruptly. His grimace suggested that he was mentally reinforcing whatever strategies and denials hed filled himself with before coming here. His face smoothed out again. You wont provoke me into making any mistakes this time, he said calmly. I wont let you. Whatever you say, sicko. I struggled to focus my attention on the problem of defending myself. I was unarmed and drunk. Sensei Randall had often warned me that my karate brown belt would be worth less than a shoestring if I kept getting too drunk to use it. The blunt muzzle of the gun seemed to COLDER THAN BLOOD 239 ED ROWE

widen and suck me towards it. I felt suddenly weary. Weary of tough guys, weary of fighting, weary of everything. What was the use? If I had to die, it would be on my terms, and it wouldnt be sober. I reached for my glass. Stop! Drucker yelled. Hands down! Its a drink, I said sarcastically. Not a secret weapon. His eyes bulged and his gun followed my movements, but I got the whisky to my lips without making friends with any bullets. If youre trying to make me angry, he said, its not going to work this time. He pouted. This is as close as Ill get. Ill shoot you from here if I have to. You do that. I picked up the half-finished Scudder mystery Id been reading off and on. Just let me finish this. Id hate to go without finding out whodunit. You pay attention to me, goddamn it! he hissed, shaking his gun like a fish trying to loosen a hook. His blotchy red face didnt go well with the new blond hair. I put the book down and sighed. What do you want, Drucker? His scowl broadened into a sneer. Im going to cut you into pieces like a jigsaw, faggot, he said darkly. Would you like to know why? I shrugged. I hoped my indifference was getting to him. Because I can. Because I have the power. Drucker laughed his wet, unpleasant laugh. Youre nothing but an ant on the sidewalk to me. He moved his foot and squashed an imaginary ant on the floor. His teeth looked sharp and predatory. Ooh, were going to have some fun tonight, you and me. Im all funned out. Why dont you come back tomorrow? Oh, but Ive come prepared. He gestured towards the leather bag hed left near the door. See that? I brought some toys with me. The bag looked swollen with nastiness. He gave me a ghastly grin. Lets go into the bedroom and play. I dont think so, I said. I folded my arms across my chest. You can keep your fantasies to yourself. Druckers face reddened. You do what I tell you or Ill blow your head off! Was that a euphemism? He forgot his caution and stamped right up to me. He pressed the gun into my left cheek. The metal felt cold and deadly against my skin. I COLDER THAN BLOOD 240 ED ROWE

mean it, he snarled. Go ahead and shoot, I said with more bravado than I felt. Im not going to be your ironing board. Whatever youve got in that bag can stay there. He was close enough now for me to smell his onion-breath. Oh, its much better than that, he said. Something new, something I havent used before. Your brain? Underneath my chair, I was stealthily positioning my feet. Drucker actually laughed. Youll see. He took a thick, solid looking blackjack from his pocket. Last chance. Do it my way, and maybe Ill go easy on you. But if I have to drag you in there, then Ill get mad and take my time. Go to hell, Drucker. I readied myself for the do-or-die. You first, he said. He pushed the gun against my cheek again and raised the blackjack with his other hand. Try to dodge and the gun goes off. He swung the blackjack towards my temple. I jerked my head to the right and swept my arm up in a grapple block, hooking the pistol away from my face. The sound of the gunshot boomed in my ear as the bullet sizzled past. The blackjack swished down, missed my moving head, and slammed into the hollow between my neck and shoulder instead. I roared with the pain of it and pushed up out of the chair, forcing Drucker back across the room. Drucker struggled to free his gun hand from my grip as I desperately tried to push it away. He shrieked with rage and loosed another shot that screamed off towards the ceiling. My ears were ringing loudly. He lashed out again with the blackjack and missed, and I grabbed his arm before he could pull it back. I had him pinned, but he still had the advantage of the weapons. If he got loose, Id be finished. We staggered around the room like a pair of deadlocked wrestlers. It took all of my strength to hold onto his wrists and keep my balance. Let go of me, you dirty poofter! he shouted. Like hell! I had to get rid of the gun. Without releasing my grip, I dug my fingernails into the soft underside of his wrist. The exposed wrist with its delicate webbing of nerves is a psychological vulnerability for most COLDER THAN BLOOD 241 ED ROWE

people. I pinched harder, feeling veins move aside. Drucker squealed and his hand spasmed open. The gun bounced on the carpet at our feet and I quickly kicked it away across the room. Yaaaaah! Let go of me! Drucker screamed. He yanked backwards violently, breaking free from my pincers grip and pulling me off balance at the same time. I stumbled onto my hands and knees on the carpet in front of him. He darted forward, and I looked up just in time to catch the blackjack on the bridge of my nose. Light exploded behind my eyes and blood burst from my nose like juice from a grapefruit, but I didnt black out. As I reeled, Drucker reached out and grabbed me by the hair. He forced my head up so that I could see his triumphant face. Now! he cried. His eyes jiggled crazily in his head and his mouth was frothy with spittle. Now youre gonna pay! When they find you, youll be a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle! He raised the blackjack. When all else fails, fight dirty. Summoning every ounce of anger and outrage I had left, I clenched my fist and punched him in the balls as hard as I could. Druckers eyes bulged in their sockets. His breath hissed out of him in a strangled hiccup. I drew back my fist and immediately smashed it into his groin again with all the force of a cannonball. His testicles imploded with a pop. He screamed and let go of my hair and I scuttled away. The muscles in Druckers neck stood out like tension ropes. The blackjack dropped from his fingers as he sank to his knees screeching a high wail of agony that went far beyond what words could convey. I clambered slowly to my feet. My blood nose had already drenched the front of my shirt and a wide area of carpet. I glared down at Drucker, hovering on his knees with his hands cupping his ruined groin. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but his eyes still blazed with pain and fury. I hated him. I hated him for all that he had done, to me and to others. My fists bunched with unspent anger. When they find you, I hissed, theyll have to take you to jail in a bucket. The gun had wound up near my pile of books. I scooped it up and held it the way Id seen in the movies. It felt heavier than Id expected, cold and brutal in my hand. The chilling power of it seeped into my bones, converting hot rage into an ice-cold deadliness. I stood over Drucker, my mouth stretched in a mirthless smile. COLDER THAN BLOOD 242 ED ROWE

Druckers eyes widened. He tried to stand. I shoved him back and he stayed down, his eyes rolling with terror. I pointed the gun at him. The odour of hot urine suddenly filled the room and I saw the stain start to spread on his pants. You cant put me in prison, he wailed. Theyll rape me in there! He sounded simultaneously horrified and excited by the prospect. Please! Ill give you anything! What have you got that I could possibly want? I said flatly, and shot him in the left knee. Druckers scream was even louder than the gunshot. Something colder than blood ran in my veins now. I had become an instrument of revenge, a bringer of frozen death. The cold steel in my hand matched the ice in my soul. Druckers face became a sheet of stark terror. He writhed on the ground in a frenzy of pain and desperation, sputtering out his final plea. Please, no! I beg of you, Jack, please! He was hyperventilating. I raised the gun and aimed it at his head. My voice was emotionless, my face felt as hard as the cold granite of the crypt. Youll never hurt anyone again. My finger hesitated on the trigger. It was too much for him. His eyes jackpotted up to whites. He crumpled and lay still, bleeding and stinking on the floor, his pain taken away by unconsciousness. It was too much for me too. The gun trembled in my hand and I knew the moment had passed. The frozen numbness in my brain began to recede. Drained, I sat heavily at my desk. I put the gun down and stared at it; I could still feel where its recoil had bucked against my hand. I never wanted to touch a gun again. I had come close to losing myself. Had I given in to that urge to kill, the coldness would have consumed me forever. I had shot an unarmed man in an appallingly unjustifiable moment of cruelty. I had almost pulled the executioners trigger as well, and the ease with which Id lingered on that awful threshold terrified me. It made me feel like an unwanted stranger in my own skin. It made my scar itch and boil. But for now, the soul searching would have to wait. The cold fury in my veins had thawed and it was time to act responsibly. I picked up the phone. Dialled a number. Pearl? I said once theyd put me through. Jack? She sounded hoarse. What the hell do you want? COLDER THAN BLOOD 243 ED ROWE

Youll never guess what the cat just dragged in. I turned an eye on the unconscious Drucker. His shattered knee was bleeding, but there didnt seem to be any arteries involved. Kurt Drucker just showed up on my doorstep and turned himself in. Huh? What? There was a clatter as Pearl knocked something over in surprise. Is this some sort of stupid joke? No joke. Hes right here, and hes looking forward to spending the next twenty years in a nice clean jail cell. Of course, if youre not interested, I can always give him a pat on the head and send him away. Youre at your apartment? Ill be there five minutes ago! Oh, and, uh, bring a doctor, I said. He got a nasty paper cut and it might need medical attention. Im on my way. Drucker was still down for the count. I tore off a strip from one of my old shirts and tightened it around his wound to slow the bleeding. He grunted and twitched in his sleep like a dreaming puppy. A trail of spittle had run down his chin. I wiped it away. I felt no anger towards him now; if anything, I felt pity and remorse. Maybe I was still human after all. Maybe the warmth hadnt been entirely leached out of me and I wasnt damaged beyond repair. Somehow, I would find the way back to myself. No matter how ugly things get, we always have the choice to pull back from the brink. Theres never any excuse for becoming part of the ugliness too. I leaned back in my chair to await Pearls cavalry. A wave of nausea flooded through me as the shock finally caught up with me. I reached for the whisky bottle to settle my nerves and found that a stray bullet had shattered it during the fight. Bits of broken glass floated in the remains of the bottle like miniature lifeboats marooned in a sea of alcohol. I shook my head wryly. Maybe it was Gods way of telling me to stop depending on cheap booze. To instead drink mineral water, munch goats cheese and cashew nuts, and put in ten hours a week sculpting my body at the gym. It made me want to laugh, but I was afraid that if I did, I mightnt be able to stop. Nah, I thought, the laugh breaking through anyway. Or God wouldnt have created bottle shops.

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Chapter Twenty-Eight
o, what are you, like, going to do with the reward? Crystal asked. I showed her my patented wolfish grin. Spend it on lollies. We were eating at a trendy Chapel Street restaurant in South Yarra that served entre-sized portions of food at main course prices. Our outdoor table was so far out on the sidewalk that it almost classified as a parked car. I was drinking imported beer and pushing a bloody steak scarcely bigger than a babys fist around my plate. Five thousand bucks could buy a whole lot of fun, Jack... She shifted sinuously in her seat, giving me a good view of the potential fun on offer. Im sure it could. I know! You should take a holiday. She gave me an innocent wink that contained more seduction than innocence. Theres London, Rome, Amsterdam, she listed airily. Oh, and of course, how could I forget Paris? She tossed her hair and gazed sultrily at me from behind it. Its the city of romance, you know? I dunno. I hear the French are ruder than I am. She laughed, then leaned over and kissed me hard, pushing her plate of oysters aside. Who knows, maybe the things really are aphrodisiacs. Either that or it was the five thousand dollar bulge in my wallet. She broke the kiss and said with her lips against my mouth, Well? Well what? I answered cheekily. I was enjoying the flirting game, but I felt reluctant to approach the subject of the money seriously. Id been pulling together the strands of a lot of hard thinking over the last couple of days, and yet I felt strangely superstitious about making the final decision. Because once youve said it out loud, I thought, youll be committed. She smiled coyly. You know, silly. The reward. Well Is this it then? Am I really going to do this thing? I thought about what Hoffman had said about the importance of purpose. I remembered how much more alive Id felt while pursuing my goal of justice for Tess. And I thought about how essential it really is for us to have a reason for what we do, and then, suddenly, I saw that the COLDER THAN BLOOD 245 ED ROWE

answer had been obvious all along. Damn right Im going to do it! I plunged ahead and said all in one quick breath: Im going to use the money to get my private investigators licence! She recoiled with surprise. Youre what? Now that the cat was out of the bag, all the enthusiasm Id been cautiously restraining came out in a rush. Well, Ill have to do a proper training course first, obviously. My friend Benny has already checked out the requirements on the Internet for me. Ill need to get a Certificate Four in Investigative Services, and then Crystal gave a sharp laugh. Hello? Isnt all that, like, kind of dull? Huh? My mind was still racing ahead with ideas. She gave me a smile full of dimples. A reward is supposed to be about rewarding yourself, Jack. Not boring old blah-blah career plans. But its what Ive always wanted to do. And now Ive finally got the cash to do it. And the confidence, I thought, and, at last, a sense of direction in my life. Crystal still looked mischievous. Arent you at least going to, you know, celebrate a little first? I thought we were doing that right now. She sighed and pouted theatrically. Oh sure then, she said in a spoiled princess voice full of resignation. Whatever. Hey, Ill buy you a diamond earring with the next reward, I said. Her face lit up faster than a lightning bolt. You promise? Promise. And the next bad guy after that can pay for Paris. Her smile faded abruptly and she turned away from me. Her brave face was slipping, and I loved her all the more for the fact that shed worn it for me, for as long as she could. I didnt push. I knew she was thinking about Hoffman, her mind still coming to terms with the truth. I only hoped that in time Id be able to help her overcome it. Inner demons cant be extinguished as easily as human lives. A loud giggle from a nearby caf drew my attention. Three young Toorak girls, their upturned noses saying No Chance and their sleekly packaged bodies saying Come Get Some, had been approached by a pair of guys wearing tightly stretched muscle shirts. The guys were working their tag team charm routine and consciously striking poses theyd seen in hip hop videos. I knew the outcome didnt much matter to any of COLDER THAN BLOOD 246 ED ROWE

them; it was all part of the social game of hanging out in the right places, of being talked about, being seen. It was a lifestyle as shallow as a crepe, and probably about as nourishing, but at that moment, I envied them. Those lucky kids had never had to deal with murderous priests and psychotic drug dealers. Their carefree innocence was devastating. Crystal remained silent for a long time, staring at the streaks of sauce on her plate. I didnt make any move to touch her. It was all still very fresh and painful, and she needed space to work through it. There were things best left unsaid, if possible. Drucker killed Duong, she said finally, her voice wobbling. Thats what the cops believe. Hell go away to prison for the rest of his life, wont he? Drucker, I mean. Who knows? With all the lenient judges these days, and the government pushing early parole schemes to hurry crims back into the tax-paying community, its anyones guess. But we can always hope that justice prevails. Perhaps some public-spirited prisoner will slip him a shank when he bends over for the soap. But he confessed, didnt he? Didnt he? They say that ninety percent of human communication is non-verbal, like the bulk of an iceberg hidden below the surface. Crystals face read like a big question mark; she needed to hear the answer to the unanswerable question of grief and guilt and relentless self-torment that could never be satisfied. Dont worry about it, I told her, feeling it all start to crumble. Pearl has enough evidence to convict him for killing Hoffman, among other things. But what about Duong? What about what he did to Duong? Drucker was responsible for the torture, I said. He admitted as much to me himself. I took a deep breath, and added, But Drucker didnt kill Duong. Her eyes drilled into mine. How can you say such a thing? Of course Drucker killed him! Her voice began to tremble. Who else could it have been? A weary depression began to seep into my mind, like a chronic ache settling back into place after the painkillers wear off. Duong was killed with the same sacrificial knife that was used on Tess, remember? Hoffman would never have let a non-believer like Drucker touch that COLDER THAN BLOOD 247 ED ROWE

knife. No, it wasnt Drucker. Are you are you suggesting that the Reverend did the killing himself? I think that after Drucker tortured all the information he could get out of Duong, he must have phoned Hoffman for instructions. Hoffman told Drucker to get out of there, and then he sent one of his faithful to finish the job. Crystals mouth gaped with shock. But but who? The muscles in her face and neck were all tightened up with fear. Tristan? I didnt want to say it. The weight on my shoulders had pushed its way down into my stomach and my appetite had been squeezed out. Around us, Chapel Street still hummed with its usual heady atmosphere of pretentiousness. The glamorous people walked the proud fashion beat, watched enviously by the has-beens. But I felt very much alone, as if a dark cloud of responsibility had swept all the vibrancy away. Forget about it, I said. It doesnt matter now. Eat your oysters and have fun. But she wouldnt let it go. She kept worrying at it like a dog checking that its bone is still buried. With quivering lips and tormented eyes, she leaned across the table and said, Who killed my boyfriend, Jack? Tell me! I need to know. So she was going to force it after all. I took one last breath of her sweet perfume, let it out slowly between my teeth, and said softly: You did, Crystal. Her look of surprise was a little too slow. Me? she said in a shaky voice. Yes. I tried to soften my voice, but it still came out sounding hard. It was you that Hoffman sent with the knife. Thats ridiculous! Why would I kill my own boyfriend? For the same reason you almost killed me. Because you were under Hoffmans control. I remembered her vacant, brainwashed stare as shed held the knife ready to plunge into my body. Id gotten through to her then, in the nick of time, and Id hoped that that would be redemption enough. But it looked like salvation wasnt going to be that easy to achieve. Crystal shook her head in denial, but her face bore the truth of her guilty suffering. I regretted that it had come to this. I think that after Drucker told him about the torture, Hoffman COLDER THAN BLOOD 248 ED ROWE

suddenly saw a perfect opportunity to seal all the leaks, I said. Later that night, he gave you the knife and commanded that you finish off Duong. No Her eyes looked feverish. Please dont Maybe Hoffman came along as well, stood there and talked you through it, I dont know. But once it was over, hed managed to silence Duong as well as tighten his mental hold on you. All that was left after that was to frame me for the murder and Hoffman would have been sitting pretty. He dobbed me in anonymously, having fed you all the right lies to tell the police beforehand, but without him there in the interrogation room to guide you, you crumbled and couldnt pull it off. How can you even think And then when that didnt work, he had a last innings crack at brainwashing me onto the team. If you cant frame em, recruit em. Youre wrong. Youre just so wrong. Suddenly, I didnt want to hear her protests any more. She was lost to me now, no matter what I said. I could feel her shutting me out with every word. It was all too much for her to take, and I felt too resentful to baby her through it. I said gruffly, Look, Crystal, Ill always be grateful that you came through in the end and saved me, but it doesnt alter the fact that you killed Duong. Jack, please The big difference was that Duong didnt get the chance to talk you out of it, what with that damn sock in his mouth. Crystals skin turned as pale as talcum powder. Her mouth worked silently as she struggled in vain to find a suitable response. Finally, she looked up at me, broken to the truth. You you dont know what it was like, she whispered. You cant know... I know it must have been awful, I said, coming back to that apartment with me and pretending it was all new and horrible. You must be one hell of an actress. She raised her eyes to meet mine. They were sodden with tears. Why are you forcing this out of me? Why are you being so cruel? Because I love you, I wanted to say, but it was too late for things like love. Because you need to come to terms with the guilt, I said. Youll never heal until you do. I was speaking to myself as much as to her, I realised. I was pushing her away as much as she was resisting COLDER THAN BLOOD 249 ED ROWE

me. The weariness in my bones seemed to double. Does that mean youre going to turn me in to the police? No, I said. That bastard Hoffman had you under his control. Im no lawyer, but in my court, that means you werent fully responsible for what you did. So you wont tell anyone? You saved my life in that chapel. Youve earned your secret. The tension in her body lessened then, but she still stared at me for a long time, her face churning with the most calculating expression I had ever seen. It was the cold face of a stranger. She was a hell of an actress alright. If Id handled her differently, might we still have salvaged something? I didnt think so. Wed both come to this table primed to explode, I realised, and wed both hoped foolishly to avoid the inevitable. Deep down, beneath the surface of consciousness, wed both known it had to end this way. Jack, I dont think we should see each other again. I agree. I I had to do it, she said. He was in such pain, such She wiped away a tear with one feminine fingertip. Youd do it for a pet, right? I said coldly. She burst into tears. Maybe the tears were the genuine article and maybe they werent. Maybe I just didnt care anymore. A concernedlooking waiter started over, but I glared him all the way back behind the counter. Crystal stood up clutching her purse. What weve talked about, she said, you wont you wont, like, repeat it to anyone, will you? I stared at her, at this beautiful, dangerous creature. I wanted to fix this last image of her in my mind, the visage of a terrible black widow spider willing to consume its mate. Life is full of untidy loose ends, I thought. The scales of justice rarely balance. Cross my heart, I said wryly, and she nodded and rushed out and was gone. I sat there for a moment, trying to preserve that vision of the hard, calculating femme fatale, and I wondered if letting her go was the right thing to do. But I couldnt hold the picture in my mind for long. Memories of her scent, her lips, her electric vitality, all kept slipping around the edges and turning her back into a beloved princess. COLDER THAN BLOOD 250 ED ROWE

Jack Marsh, Private Schmuck. Well, my next case couldnt possibly be any worse. Got to fall down first in order to get up, right? The waiter was hovering around, peeking at me nervously. I waved him over. Are you alright, sir? he asked. Can I get you anything else? I had brought Tesss gold crucifix along in my pocket. I could feel it now, its points pressing into my leg. It gave me a sad feeling of comfort to know it was there, as if in some small way, Tess was still depending on me to keep her alive. Whisky, I said. A double. And if youre quick, I might even say thanks.

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