The Bat Page 26

  ‘What happened next, Valentino?’

  ‘Kristin and I met in secret. Until it was no longer secret.’

  ‘How did Terje take it?’

  ‘Well. Sometimes people react in textbook manner. Terje told his friends to choose: him or me. I think it was a landslide victory. In favour of the boy with the whitest teeth in the school.’

  ‘That must have been terrible. Were you lonely?’

  ‘I don’t know what was worst. Or who I pitied most. Terje or myself.’

  ‘At least you and Kristin had each other.’

  ‘True, but some of the magic had gone. The ideal girl was gone, you see.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I had a girl who had left a boy for his best friend.’

  ‘And for her you were the boy who had unscrupulously used his best friend to get in with her.’

  ‘Exactly. And that would always be there. Under the surface maybe, but nevertheless smouldering away with unspoken, mutual contempt. As though we were accomplices responsible for a scandalous murder.’

  ‘So you had to make do with a relationship that wasn’t perfect. Welcome to reality!’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong. I think our common sins in many ways bound us closer together. I think we really did love each other for a while. Some days were . . . perfect. Like drops of water. Like a beautiful painting.’

  Birgitta laughed. ‘I like you when you talk, Harry. Your eyes seem to light up when you say things like that. As if you’re back there. Do you long to go back?’

  ‘To Kristin?’ Harry wondered. ‘I may long to go back to the time we were together, but to Kristin? People change. The person you long for may no longer exist. Bloody hell, we all change, don’t we. Once something has been experienced, it’s too late, you can’t get back the feeling of experiencing the same thing for the first time. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is.’

  ‘Like being in love for the first time?’ Birgitta said quietly.

  ‘Like being in love . . . for the first time,’ Harry said, caressing her cheek. Then he took another deep breath.

  ‘There’s something I have to ask you, Birgitta. A favour.’

  The music was deafening and Harry had to lean in to hear what he was saying. Teddy was effusing about his new shooting star, Melissa, who was nineteen years old and, right now, setting the place on fire, which, Harry had to admit, was no exaggeration.

  ‘Rumours. That’s what does it, you know,’ Teddy said. ‘You can advertise and market as much as you like, but ultimately there’s only one thing that sells, the rumour mill.’

  And rumours had obviously done their job because for the first time in ages the club was nearly full. After Melissa’s cowboy and lasso number the men were on their chairs, and even the female minority was applauding politely. ‘See,’ Teddy said. ‘That’s not because she’s found a novelty number, it’s classic striptease, God knows it is. We’ve had a dozen girls here doing the same number and no one raised an eyebrow. The reason this is different: innocence and emotion.’

  From experience, however, Teddy knew that such waves of popularity were sadly a passing phase. On the one hand, the public was always on the lookout for something new; on the other, this industry had a nasty tendency to consume its own offspring.

  ‘Good striptease requires enthusiasm, you know,’ Teddy shouted over the disco rhythms. ‘Not many of these girls can maintain the enthusiasm, however hard they work at it. Four shows, every fuckin’ day. You lose interest and forget the crowds. I’ve seen it happen too many times before. Doesn’t matter how popular you are, a trained eye can see when a star is extinguished.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Well, they’re dancers, aren’t they. They have to listen to the music, get inside it, you know. When they’re “edgy” and a tiny bit ahead of the beat, it’s not what you might think, a sign that they’re overenthusiastic. Quite the opposite, it’s a sign they’re fed up and want to get it over with asap. Also, often subconsciously, they cut down on the movements so that it becomes more suggestive than complete. It’s the same with people who have told the same joke too many times; they start leaving out the small but vital details that make you laugh at the punchline. That’s the kind of thing it’s difficult to do anything about – body language doesn’t lie, and it transmits itself to the audience, you know. The girls are aware of the problem and to spice up the show, to help it take off, they have a few drinks before going onstage. Occasionally a few too many. And then . . .’ Teddy held a finger against one nostril and sniffed.

  Harry nodded. Familiar story.

  ‘They discover powder, which unlike alcohol gives them a buzz and they’ve heard it also helps to keep them slim. Soon they have to take more to get the high they need to give of their best every evening. Soon they have to take it just to perform the shows. And soon the effects are visible, they notice they’re losing concentration and begin to hate the drunken, cheering audience. Then one night they march off the stage. Furious, and in tears. They argue with the manager, take a week’s holiday then come back. But they can’t feel the atmosphere any more, can’t feel the inner sense that helped them to time things right. Audiences vote with their feet and in the end it’s time to go on the street and move on.’

  Yes, Teddy had his finger on the pulse. But all of that lay in the future. Now it was time to milk the cow, and right now it was standing on the stage with large eyes and udders full to bursting and was probably – all things considered – a very happy cow.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe who comes here to check out these new talents of ours,’ Teddy chuckled, brushing his lapel. ‘Some of them come from your very own profession, if I can put it like that. And they’re not exactly boys on the bottom rung, either.’

  ‘Bit of striptease doesn’t hurt anyone, does it.’

  ‘We-ell,’ Teddy drawled. ‘Don’t know about that. So long as they settle up for the damage afterwards, I suppose the odd graze doesn’t hurt.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Not a lot. Enough of that. What brings you to these parts, Officer?’

  ‘Two things. The girl who was found in Centennial Park turned out to be a little less naive than first impressions indicated. The blood samples showed she was full of amphetamines and on closer investigation the trail led here. In fact, we discovered she had been on the stage here earlier the night she went missing.’

  ‘Barbara, yes. Tragic, wasn’t it.’ Teddy did his best to assume a grieving exterior. ‘Not much of a stripper, but an absolutely great girl. Have you found anything?’

  ‘We were hoping you might be able to help us, Mongabi.’

  Teddy ran a hand nervously through his slicked-back hair.

  ‘Sorry, Officer. She wasn’t in my stable. Talk to Sammy. He’ll be in later.’

  A pair of enormous satin-clad tits obscured the view between them for a moment, then they were gone and a colourful cocktail was standing on the table beside Harry.

  ‘You said you came here for two things, Officer. What was the second?’

  ‘Oh, right. A purely private matter, Mongabi. I was wondering if you had seen my friend over there before?’ Harry pointed to the bar. A tall black figure in a smoking jacket waved to them. Teddy shook his head.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure, Mongabi? He’s quite well known. Before too long he’s going to be an Australian boxing champion.’

  There was a pause. Teddy Mongabi’s eyes went shifty.

  ‘What is it you would like to . . .?’

  ‘Heavyweight, goes without saying.’ Harry found the straw among the umbrellas and slices of lemon in the fruit juice and sucked.

  Teddy forced a smile. ‘Listen, Officer, am I mistaken or were we just having a cosy conversation?’

  ‘Indeed we were. But not everything in life is cosy, is it. Cosy Time is over.’

  ‘Listen, Officer Holy, I don’t think what happened recently was any nicer than you do. I’m sorry about it. Even though you should bear your
part of the guilt, you know. When you came in here and sat down tonight, I thought it was with a common understanding that all that was behind us. I believe we can agree on a number of things. You and I, we speak the same language, Officer.’

  There was a second’s silence as the disco music suddenly stopped. Teddy hesitated. There was a loud gurgle as the last of the fruit juice disappeared up the straw.

  Teddy swallowed. ‘For example, I know that Melissa has no special plans for the rest of the evening.’ He sent Harry an imploring look.

  ‘Thank you, Mongabi, I appreciate the thought. But I simply don’t have the time right now. I have to finish this business first, and then I’m off.’

  He pulled a black police truncheon from his jacket.

  ‘We’re so damn busy I don’t even know if I have the time to kill you properly,’ Harry said.

  ‘What the hell . . .?’

  Harry got up. ‘I hope Geoff and Ivan are on duty tonight. My friend was so looking forward to meeting them, you know.’

  Teddy struggled to his feet.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Harry said, and struck.

  46

  Bait

  ‘YUH?’

  ‘Hello, is that Evans?’

  ‘Maybe. Who’s asking?’

  ‘Hi, this is Birgitta. Inger’s friend. We met at the Albury a couple of times. I’ve got long, blond, slightly reddish hair. Do you remember me?’

  ‘Of course I remember you. How are you doing? How did you get hold of my number?’

  ‘I’m fine. Bit up and down. You know. Bit depressed because of Inger and all that, but I won’t bother you with it. I got your number from Inger, in case we had to contact her when she was in Nimbin.’

  ‘I see.’

  . . .

  ‘Yes, the thing is I know you have something I need, Evans.’

  ‘Uh-huh?’

  ‘Stuff.’

  ‘I understand. Hate to disappoint you, but I doubt I have what you’re after. Listen . . . er, Birgitta—’

  ‘You don’t understand, I have to meet you!’

  ‘Easy now. For what you need there are hundreds of other suppliers, and this is not a secure line, so I suggest you don’t say anything you shouldn’t. I’m sorry I can’t help you.’

  ‘What I need starts with “m”, not “h”. And you’re the only person who has it.’

  ‘Rubbish.’

  ‘OK, maybe there are a few others, but I don’t trust any of them. I’m buying for several people. I need a lot and I pay well.’

  ‘I’m a bit tied up now, Birgitta. Don’t ring here again, please.’

  ‘Wait! I can . . . I know a few things. I know what you like.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘What you . . . really like. What your kick is.’

  . . .

  . . .

  ‘Sorry, I just had to get someone out of the room. This is a real pain in the arse. So. What do you think I like, Birgitta?’

  ‘I can’t say it on the phone, but . . . but I have blonde hair, and I . . . I like it, too.’

  ‘Jeez. Girlfriends! You never cease to amaze me. I thought Inger would’ve kept her mouth shut about that sort of thing.’

  ‘When can I meet you, Evans? This is urgent.’

  . . .

  ‘I’ll be in Sydney day after tomorrow, but perhaps I should consider an earlier flight . . . ?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Hm.’

  ‘When can we—?’

  ‘Shh, Birgitta, I’m thinking.’

  . . .

  ‘OK, listen carefully. Walk down Darlinghurst Road tomorrow evening at eight. Stop by Hungry Jack’s on the left. Look for a black Holden with tinted glass. If it isn’t there before half past eight you can go. And make sure I can see your hair.’

  47

  Data

  ‘THE LAST TIME? Well, Kristin rang me out of the blue one night. She was a bit drunk, I think. She gave me an ear-bashing for something, don’t remember what. For destroying her life, probably. She had a tendency to think people around her were always destroying things she had planned so carefully.’

  ‘That’s how it is with girls who have spent too much time growing up alone and playing with dolls, you know.’

  ‘Maybe. But, as I said, I don’t remember. I was hardly ever sober myself.’

  Harry sat up in the sand on his elbows and scanned the sea. The waves rose, the tips went white and the foam hung in the air for a second before it fell, glittering in the sun like crushed glass, and crashed against the cliffs beyond Bondi Beach.

  ‘But I saw her once more. She visited me at the hospital after the accident. Initially, when I opened my eyes, I thought I was dreaming, seeing her beside my bed, pale, almost transparent. She was just as beautiful as the first time I saw her.’

  Bitgitta pinched him in the side.

  ‘Am I laying it on too thick?’

  ‘Not at all, just go on.’ She was lying on her stomach and giggling.

  ‘What is this? You’re supposed to get a bit jealous when I’m talking about an old flame. But the more I go into details about my romantic past the more you seem to like it.’

  Birgitta peered at him over her sunglasses.

  ‘I like finding out that my macho cop has had an emotional life. Even though it was some time ago.’

  ‘Some time ago? What do you call this then?’

  She laughed. ‘This is the mature, carefully considered holiday romance which doesn’t become too intense but has enough sex for it to be worth the effort.’

  Harry shook his head. ‘That’s not true, Birgitta, and you know it.’

  ‘Yes, it is, but it’s fine, Harry. It’s fine for now. Continue the story. If the details become too intimate, I’ll tell you. Anyway, I’ll get my own back when I tell you about my ex-boyfriend.’ She wriggled in the hot sand with a contented expression. ‘Ex-boyfriends, I mean.’

  Harry brushed the sand off her white back.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t get sunburnt? With this sun and your skin—’

  ‘You’re the one who rubbed in the suntan lotion, herr Hole!’

  ‘I was just wondering if it was a high enough factor. OK, forget it. I just didn’t want you to get burnt.’

  Harry stared at her light-sensitive skin. When he had asked for a favour she had said yes straight away – without any hesitation.

  ‘Relax, Daddy, and tell the story.’

  The fan wasn’t working.

  ‘Shit, it was brand bloody new!’ said Watkins, hitting the back as he switched it on and off. To no avail. It was no more than a piece of silent aluminium and dead electricity.

  McCormack growled.

  ‘Forget it, Larry. Ask Laura for a new one. It’s D-Day today and we have more important things on our minds. Larry?’

  Watkins, irritated, moved the fan away.

  ‘Everything’s ready, sir. We’ll have three cars in the area. Miss Enquist will be equipped with a radio transmitter so that we can plot where she is at any given moment, as well as a microphone, so that we can hear and assess the situation. The plan is she takes him home to her flat where Holy, Lebie and myself are positioned in the bedroom wardrobe, on the balcony and in the corridor respectively. If anything happens in the car, or they drive somewhere else, the three cars will follow.’

  ‘Tactics?’

  Yong straightened his glasses. ‘Her job is to get him to say something about the murders, sir. She’ll put him under pressure by saying she’ll go to the police with what Inger Holter told her about his sexual habits. If he feels secure that she can’t escape he may lift the lid.’

  ‘How long can we wait before we go in?’

  ‘Until we have substantial evidence on tape. In a worst-case scenario, until he lays his hands on her.’

  ‘Risk?’

  ‘This isn’t without risk, of course, but strangling someone isn’t a quick process. We’re only seconds away at any stage.’

  ‘What if he’s got a weapon?’


  Yong shrugged. ‘From what we know that would be uncharacteristic behaviour, sir.’

  McCormack had got up and started pacing to and fro in the small room. He reminded Harry of a fat old leopard he had seen in the zoo when he was young. The cage was so small the front part of the body began to turn before the rear had finished the previous turn. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  ‘What if he wants sex before anything is said or anything has happened?’

  ‘She’ll refuse. Say she’s changed her mind, she only said it to persuade him to get her some morphine.’

  ‘And then we let him go on his way?’

  ‘We don’t do any splashing unless we know we can catch him, sir.’

  McCormack sucked his top lip under his bottom lip. ‘Why’s she doing this?’

  Silence.

  ‘Because she doesn’t like rapists and murderers,’ Harry said after a long pause.

  ‘Apart from that.’

  There was an even longer silence.

  ‘Because I asked her to,’ Harry said at length.

  ‘Can I disturb you, Yong?’

  Yong Sue looked up from his computer with a smile. ‘Sure, mate.’

  Harry slumped onto a chair. The busy officer typed away, keeping one eye on the screen and one eye on him.

  ‘Nice if this stayed between us, Yong, but I’ve lost my belief.’

  Yong stopped typing.

  ‘I think Evans White’s a wild goose chase,’ Harry continued.

  Yong looked bewildered. ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s a bit difficult to explain, but there are a couple of things I can’t get out of my mind. Andrew was trying to tell me something at the hospital. And before, too.’

  Harry broke off. Yong motioned him to go on.

  ‘He was trying to tell me the solution was closer to home than I thought. I believe the guilty party is someone Andrew, for some reason, couldn’t arrest himself. He needed an outsider. Such as me – a Norwegian who drops in and has to catch the next flight back. I reckoned that was how it was when I thought Otto Rechtnagel was the murderer, that because he was a close friend, Andrew wanted someone else to stop him. There was something that grated though, for me, deep down. Now I realise he wasn’t the person Andrew wanted me to nab, it was someone else.’