The Outing, page 12
Robert sat on the couch watching Nikki watching the cartoons. He thought of Thomas and Emma. And Lauren. He had to call Lauren.
“I'll cancel,” she said. “I couldn't go out now anyway. Call me, even if you don't know anything OK?”
He called Harry.
And went back to the cartoons, where violence was a bandaged bump surrounded by circling stars and perilous cliff falls only ever ended with a word. Splat.
He and Nikki both looked up when they heard the knock. Did Marnie forget her key?
Two uniformed police were waiting.
“We were looking for the owner of the house,” they glanced towards the big house, “John Saunders.”
Robert frowned, “You mean Jack, Jack Saunders?”
“Do you know him, Mr Saunders… you called him Jack?”
“Jack? No. I'm a friend of Marnie and Johnny. Jack’s son. I was assuming that if you were looking for John at the house, that you meant Jack. They're at Hendra Station. Marnie and her dad. Johnny is missing. They're reporting him missing.”
“Ahh. I see.”
Robert contemplated asking what that meant. He rubbed his solar plexus. It can't be a coincidence that they were looking for John Saunders and Jack was at the police station to report Johnny missing. Why would they be here? Was there something they'd found. Had someone found Johnny?
They stepped back and talked on their radios, then, “Maybe we could sit down and wait? Perhaps some tea?”
They followed him into the kitchen and he switched on the kettle, “Is that why you're here? But, you didn't know he was missing. You came about something else?”
“We'll go over everything when your friends return.”
The kettle bubbled and whistled and switched itself off and Robert didn't move.
He was back in the front room, the day after his birthday, and standing in front of the policeman, his mother sitting in the other big lounge chair, “Well tell him.”
“What?”
“About your friend.”
“Who?”
“Oh for God’s sake, Robert. Your friend from school, Terry.”
“Is he OK?” he turned and faced the policemen, his nose prickling and his forehead tensing and releasing, hands bunched at his sides, “Can I see him? Is he in hospital?”
“No son,” the policeman said, “no.”
“He had asthma, and-” nothing came out except a breathy huuhh.
“He died,” the policeman paused. “I came to ask you what happened. See if you could help with our-ah enquiries.”
Robert looked up, blinking repeatedly, this isn’t real, this isn’t happening, Terry will be OK. His fingernails were trying to cut through his palms. One two three four... fifteen. One, two-
“Look son, Mr Sullivan said you were both wet. It’s winter. What were you doing in the creek?”
“They were playing,” his mum said. “He must’ve slipped, you know what boys are-”
“He didn’t,” Robert interrupted. “We-”
His mother was still talking, “-like. Was he getting the ball? You can-”
“Mrs Carson, please, I’d like to hear what Robert has to say.”
“I didn’t hurt him or anything. I was trying to help him out of the water,” Robert said.
“Was there anyone else with you?”
“Not at first,” Robert looked directly at the policeman.
“What happened son?”
“Some big boys came. They teased us. They-”
“Robert’s father is a Cabinet Minister you know,” his mother interrupted again. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for-”
“Did they hurt you?” The policeman cut in. “Did they hurt Terry?”
He looked at his mother’s lowered eyelids. The warning peered through the slits left open. “They were mean. They teased us. Then they ran away.” He turned back to the policeman, “And then I helped Terry out of the creek. I got his puffer and I went to get his dad.”
While the policeman wrote in his notebook, Robert’s anguished face went back to his mother, “I tried to tell you yesterd-”
“Shhhh-shhhh.” Her eyes fixed on the policeman, but she spoke to Robert, “It’s OK. We know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Do you know the boys who-ah, teased you?” the policeman ignored her.
“He would have told me,” his mother’s nostrils quivered.
“Mrs Carson. Please.” The policeman turned back to him, “It’s ok. You can tell me, son,” the officer tried.
He heard Terry’s voice saying it’ll be worse next time, and another voice, nothing happened here, taking turns. He found the ceiling one two three four… The thud in his throat merged with the one between his ribs, getting louder in his ears and faster. He looked at his mum, his head making a slow no, “I think they used to go to my school. I don’t know. Mum, I- please, I don’t want to go back there. I hate it. What if they think I know who-”
“Shhhh-shhhh,” she stood pulling him to her, burying the rest of his words against her ribs. He felt her bones press against his teeth, “Shhhh.” She looked down at the policeman, “Is there anything else? You can see he’s upset. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Thank you for your-ah, cooperation, Mrs Carson, Robert. If there’s anything you remember later. Here,” he put a card on the occasional table.
They all looked at it as he stood up too.
“Here,” the policeman in Marnie’s kitchen broke through. A uniformed arm reached past him for mugs. “Let me help. You want one?”
Robert shook his head. The voice intruding on his thoughts. His face was hot. Then icy.
“You known John-Johnny long?”
Robert nodded. The question was a diversion and the officer seemed decent, but the sickening images of last night swirled into his memories, “Do you mind?” He lurched towards the hall. Nikki was watching him, “Stay here.”
He made it to the bathroom and retched.
He looked into the mirror splashing cold water onto his face. Stray droplets clung like tears to the image staring back at him, confused and grey and tight.
Emerging from the bathroom, he heard Marnie and Jack's voices.
“Do you mind Robert?” Marnie said. “We're going over to Dad's.”
Yes, I do mind. I need to hear what they have to say. Why are they here? You hadn't even reported him missing? And they were looking for Jack. Not Johnny. He drew his dry lips back over his teeth in what he hoped was a smile, “No. Go.”
***
“I don't get it Marnie. The police don't make house calls to return a lost wallet.”
“Two things. The ID. It had his name and this address. Dad's.”
“Yeah,” said Robert, “my point.”
“Let me finish. I'm barely keeping it together. It's procedure or something, they ran a check on the name. The arrest stuff came up, with a different address. They started calling and didn't get an answer. They went to the apartment, no answer, then here.”
Robert lined his ducks up, “They thought he'd given false information, that something was dodgy.”
She nodded.
“But how did they get it? Did someone find it? Who? Where?”
Marnie shook her head, “They said they're continuing to make enquiries. But,” her face folded. “Oh Robert, they're evasive and sombre and, and-”
He pulled her towards him for a hug. He needed it as much as she did.
“I have to go back,” she said, wiping a tear, “I told them I wanted to check on Nikki. Call Harry, will you? Make some toast or something for Nikki?”
She started to turn, and Robert took her hand, “Marnie,” he held her eyes, “I- he must be OK. Somewhere. I saw him.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“I- I thought it was.” He peered into the space between them. “It was dark. I saw someone on the ground. There was a jacket nearby. I assumed- Johnny had my jacket.” Pieces of picture rearranged themselves, “I don't know. I wasn’t- it wasn’t there when I went back looking for him. I don't know.”
Her eyes clouded, “I have to go.”
*
He made toast for Nikki and tried to ignore that the yellow flecks in her eyes were the same as her mother's and Johnny's. Where's Johnny? Please God. Find him.
He called Harry and then Lauren, from the extension in the hall.
“You’re not my real uncle, are you,” Nikki said when he came back into the kitchen, “like Uncle Johnny is?”
“No,” he said. “It’s a polite way for grownups to talk about their friends with their children.”
“I know,” she said. “But you are Robert.”
“Mmmm.”
“Are you sad about Uncle Johnny?”
“What?” Robert's face re-composed itself, “Worried, sweetie. We're all worried about him.”
“Is that why the policemen are here?”
He nodded.
She rocked gently, “He was watching.”
“Watching what sweetheart?”
“He said he was on the swings watching. He said to tell you he was sorry.”
“When did he say that, Nikki?” Robert's heart was moving but his breath wasn't.
“Last night. When everyone was asleep. He told me to tell you.”
“Did he say anything else? Did Mummy see him too?”
She shook her head.
“What happened then? After he said he was sorry?” Robert’s heart raced.
“Grandma came and they went to her place.”
“Do you know where Grandma lives? Does Mummy know?”
“Silly,” she looked at him as if he had forgotten something important. “Grandma lives with the angels in forever ever after in Heaven.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” He let this sink in. “I am silly, aren't I? Did you tell Mummy?”
“No,” she frowned, “he didn't tell me to. He said tell Robert.”
Robert calmed himself, “Can I ask you another question?”
“Mmm.”
“Does Grandma come, to see you, to visit often?”
“No. Just sometimes. But she said she's always there. Even when I can't see her.”
“How does that make you feel?”
Her eyebrows knitted, “Sometimes sad. Because she isn't here, here. But it's OK.”
“And does Mummy know that she visits you?”
“I s'pose,” her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Will you read to me?”
*
Marnie interrupted their story.
“The police want us to go to the station in Fortitude Valley,” she said. “That's where they have his things. Someone found them on the Story Bridge. They're saying it's suicide Robert. I can't believe that Johnny would do that. But…” her eyes lost something… “there's a body. They've found a body in the river. It can't be him, Robert, it can't…”
The words stopped flying, as the air carrying them out into the world stalled into a body jerking sob. Tears glided down her cheeks, and he folded his arms around her, trying to stop her from breaking.
He didn't realise he was crying too, until Nikki came in and hugged them both around the legs.
“Do you want me to come?” he asked when he felt her breathing change. “Lauren can come over. Someone should be here in case the phone rings.”
Marnie stared at it, as if it would burst into life.
Robert did too, imagining Johnny apologising. He'd been out. Time got away…
He caught the end of Marnie's explanation to Nikki, “…you remember Emma and Thomas, don't you?”
Nikki nodded.
“And when they get here, Uncle Robert will come and get us. I don't know how long we'll be.”
Nikki nodded again.
“Are you OK sweetheart?”
Nikki shook her head, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everyone's fear, “I don't want Uncle Johnny to go to forever-ever-after.”
Chapter 23
Robert sat in the corner of the empty police station waiting area, on the last of the joined-together red plastic chairs. Johnny'll be ok. Silence. Johnny will be OK, please God. Crushing silence. Then another thought. Unwanted. That the police from last night might belong to this Station.
He reached for an abandoned newspaper as two uniformed police came through the internal door separating the public area from the squad room. If they noticed him, they didn't seem to mind he was there.
Without even trying, his ears tuned in to their conversation.
“I'm telling you, it's not the same bloke.”
“Who made you the bloody expert?”
“I didn't say I was. But, my Uncle’s with the Water Police.”
“So?”
“Tides.”
“Well smart-arse. We've got a sighting; belongings lifted from between a girder and railing on the bridge, and a body, in the river. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
“Just because it's logical doesn't mean it's true. My Uncle, he's an auditor, he reckons you can be out by a cent, and write it off, but it could be you're out a hundred dollars on one hand, and ninetynine-ninetynine on the other. So you've missed two pretty big numbers. What if there were two jumpers? What if-”
“How many uncles’ve you got?”
“My point is-”
“Yeah, but why make life difficult? We've got a missing person, a body, and a big flag waving us in the face.”
“But, we're supposed to-”
“Put a sock in it, Kowalski. My uncle,” pause for emphasis, “says don't let the truth interrupt a good story.”
“Well you can laugh, but I'm telling you, if-”
“They went right back to the spot they'd reported sighting him and found the wallet and the jacket, all neatly stashed like he was at the pool for a swim, or some diving practice more like,” he laughed. “And they've got a witness. That drunk. Wouldn't say he'd be too reliable though,” another chuckle. “Might need a bit of a reminder.”
“Well why didn't they stop and check? They could have talked him down.”
“How the hell would I know? Probably 'cause they had a passenger. Anyway, we aren’t a counselling service.”
“But we're supposed to help people, it’s our duty-”
“Well I wouldn’t be holding no-one's hand on the wrong side of that railing. Hah, you know,” the officer paused, “everyone's been taking the soft landing on top of the Water Police headquarters lately. He mustn't have got the memo. Haha.”
“Someone died arsehole.”
“We all gotta go sometime.”
Kowalski's jaw tightened, “My point was, he'd be miles down-river on the outgoing tide. Or stuck somewhere in between and not, back the other way, in the mangroves.”
“What? Tides only go one way? Full of shit, Kowalski.”
Robert registered the fight falling out of Kowalski's next words, “Nope. Doesn't add up. Something stinks.”
“Hah. Your head's so far up your arse you think everything stinks.”
Kowalski flicked through some papers on the counter, “Hey. You 'right sir?”
Robert lowered the paper, “Me?”
Kowalski sighed, “I don't see anyone else here.”
Robert looked around, “Sorry.” He walked to the counter, “My friend and her dad are here. I'm waiting for them. They've come about a missing person.”
Kowalski reached for the sign in book, “Got some ID sir?”
Handing the driving license back to Robert, he said, “Need a new one soon.”
Robert checked the date, “Hey, thanks,” and obtrusively reading Kowalski's name tag hoping it signaled he hadn't been listening in, “Officer Kowalski.”
“All good sir. Just trying to be helpful.”
“Well, you didn't have to,” he found a smile. “Should I wait here?”
“Let me check for you.”
He was back quickly.
“Mr Carson, they've gone to the morgue. To identify the body.” He apologized when he saw Robert's face sag, “I'm sorry. Look. It may be. Or it maybe not.”
“I'm… are they coming back here? Should I…I'm not sure what…”
“I'll let them know you're here. And basically, regardless of whether, well you know… The pathologist does an examination and gives it to the coroner. His job is who died, where, when, and what happened.”
Robert nodded, he didn't want to embarrass Kowalski, “Mmm, thanks. I thought so.” And then, “But is it only a coroner? Shouldn't there be an inquest?”
“Not necessarily. Unless there's evidence or suspicion of foul play. I'll radio now and see where they are with all this, eh?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Kowalski nodded.
“How would they know if there's suspicion without an inquiry.”
“Hit the nail on the head there. But mine is not to reason why I s'pose.” Kowalski looked pointedly at his colleague on his way out.
He was a while.
“You look like you could use something stronger, but,” he lifted up the hinged part of the countertop, and led Robert through the visitor door off the main lobby into the back, stopping inside by the CafeBar and handing over a plastic cup of hot water.
Robert sat watching the tea-bag blob on the surface and slowly sink, then took a grateful sip.
“Mr Carson,” a concerned frown lined Kowalski's forehead, “I wanted to give you some privacy. They've made the identification.”
Robert's head barely moved in acknowledgement and his mind stilled completely.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Robert's eyes moved down from the ceiling, and he stared at the cup he was holding. He put it on the table, and rubbed his hands on his thighs, before they moved, still of their own accord and grabbed hold of his knees. He couldn’t think of anything to think or anything to say.
“So you been friends long? With the Saunders I mean?”
“Marnie and Johnny,” somehow the words came out, “I only met Jack today.”
He fell back into silence.
No. No. No. No. NO.
His chest moved. Shuddering. And then, noticing his hands gripping his knees, he loosened his fingers. He could feel moisture in the outside corners of his eyes, then sniffed. He looked at Kowalski, as if he couldn't understand what he was doing there, and then for some reason he took out his wallet and thought caught up, “I'm more than friends, I'm Johnny's lawyer.” He handed Kowalski his card, “He has, had, some history with you lot.”
“I'll cancel,” she said. “I couldn't go out now anyway. Call me, even if you don't know anything OK?”
He called Harry.
And went back to the cartoons, where violence was a bandaged bump surrounded by circling stars and perilous cliff falls only ever ended with a word. Splat.
He and Nikki both looked up when they heard the knock. Did Marnie forget her key?
Two uniformed police were waiting.
“We were looking for the owner of the house,” they glanced towards the big house, “John Saunders.”
Robert frowned, “You mean Jack, Jack Saunders?”
“Do you know him, Mr Saunders… you called him Jack?”
“Jack? No. I'm a friend of Marnie and Johnny. Jack’s son. I was assuming that if you were looking for John at the house, that you meant Jack. They're at Hendra Station. Marnie and her dad. Johnny is missing. They're reporting him missing.”
“Ahh. I see.”
Robert contemplated asking what that meant. He rubbed his solar plexus. It can't be a coincidence that they were looking for John Saunders and Jack was at the police station to report Johnny missing. Why would they be here? Was there something they'd found. Had someone found Johnny?
They stepped back and talked on their radios, then, “Maybe we could sit down and wait? Perhaps some tea?”
They followed him into the kitchen and he switched on the kettle, “Is that why you're here? But, you didn't know he was missing. You came about something else?”
“We'll go over everything when your friends return.”
The kettle bubbled and whistled and switched itself off and Robert didn't move.
He was back in the front room, the day after his birthday, and standing in front of the policeman, his mother sitting in the other big lounge chair, “Well tell him.”
“What?”
“About your friend.”
“Who?”
“Oh for God’s sake, Robert. Your friend from school, Terry.”
“Is he OK?” he turned and faced the policemen, his nose prickling and his forehead tensing and releasing, hands bunched at his sides, “Can I see him? Is he in hospital?”
“No son,” the policeman said, “no.”
“He had asthma, and-” nothing came out except a breathy huuhh.
“He died,” the policeman paused. “I came to ask you what happened. See if you could help with our-ah enquiries.”
Robert looked up, blinking repeatedly, this isn’t real, this isn’t happening, Terry will be OK. His fingernails were trying to cut through his palms. One two three four... fifteen. One, two-
“Look son, Mr Sullivan said you were both wet. It’s winter. What were you doing in the creek?”
“They were playing,” his mum said. “He must’ve slipped, you know what boys are-”
“He didn’t,” Robert interrupted. “We-”
His mother was still talking, “-like. Was he getting the ball? You can-”
“Mrs Carson, please, I’d like to hear what Robert has to say.”
“I didn’t hurt him or anything. I was trying to help him out of the water,” Robert said.
“Was there anyone else with you?”
“Not at first,” Robert looked directly at the policeman.
“What happened son?”
“Some big boys came. They teased us. They-”
“Robert’s father is a Cabinet Minister you know,” his mother interrupted again. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for-”
“Did they hurt you?” The policeman cut in. “Did they hurt Terry?”
He looked at his mother’s lowered eyelids. The warning peered through the slits left open. “They were mean. They teased us. Then they ran away.” He turned back to the policeman, “And then I helped Terry out of the creek. I got his puffer and I went to get his dad.”
While the policeman wrote in his notebook, Robert’s anguished face went back to his mother, “I tried to tell you yesterd-”
“Shhhh-shhhh.” Her eyes fixed on the policeman, but she spoke to Robert, “It’s OK. We know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Do you know the boys who-ah, teased you?” the policeman ignored her.
“He would have told me,” his mother’s nostrils quivered.
“Mrs Carson. Please.” The policeman turned back to him, “It’s ok. You can tell me, son,” the officer tried.
He heard Terry’s voice saying it’ll be worse next time, and another voice, nothing happened here, taking turns. He found the ceiling one two three four… The thud in his throat merged with the one between his ribs, getting louder in his ears and faster. He looked at his mum, his head making a slow no, “I think they used to go to my school. I don’t know. Mum, I- please, I don’t want to go back there. I hate it. What if they think I know who-”
“Shhhh-shhhh,” she stood pulling him to her, burying the rest of his words against her ribs. He felt her bones press against his teeth, “Shhhh.” She looked down at the policeman, “Is there anything else? You can see he’s upset. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Thank you for your-ah, cooperation, Mrs Carson, Robert. If there’s anything you remember later. Here,” he put a card on the occasional table.
They all looked at it as he stood up too.
“Here,” the policeman in Marnie’s kitchen broke through. A uniformed arm reached past him for mugs. “Let me help. You want one?”
Robert shook his head. The voice intruding on his thoughts. His face was hot. Then icy.
“You known John-Johnny long?”
Robert nodded. The question was a diversion and the officer seemed decent, but the sickening images of last night swirled into his memories, “Do you mind?” He lurched towards the hall. Nikki was watching him, “Stay here.”
He made it to the bathroom and retched.
He looked into the mirror splashing cold water onto his face. Stray droplets clung like tears to the image staring back at him, confused and grey and tight.
Emerging from the bathroom, he heard Marnie and Jack's voices.
“Do you mind Robert?” Marnie said. “We're going over to Dad's.”
Yes, I do mind. I need to hear what they have to say. Why are they here? You hadn't even reported him missing? And they were looking for Jack. Not Johnny. He drew his dry lips back over his teeth in what he hoped was a smile, “No. Go.”
***
“I don't get it Marnie. The police don't make house calls to return a lost wallet.”
“Two things. The ID. It had his name and this address. Dad's.”
“Yeah,” said Robert, “my point.”
“Let me finish. I'm barely keeping it together. It's procedure or something, they ran a check on the name. The arrest stuff came up, with a different address. They started calling and didn't get an answer. They went to the apartment, no answer, then here.”
Robert lined his ducks up, “They thought he'd given false information, that something was dodgy.”
She nodded.
“But how did they get it? Did someone find it? Who? Where?”
Marnie shook her head, “They said they're continuing to make enquiries. But,” her face folded. “Oh Robert, they're evasive and sombre and, and-”
He pulled her towards him for a hug. He needed it as much as she did.
“I have to go back,” she said, wiping a tear, “I told them I wanted to check on Nikki. Call Harry, will you? Make some toast or something for Nikki?”
She started to turn, and Robert took her hand, “Marnie,” he held her eyes, “I- he must be OK. Somewhere. I saw him.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“I- I thought it was.” He peered into the space between them. “It was dark. I saw someone on the ground. There was a jacket nearby. I assumed- Johnny had my jacket.” Pieces of picture rearranged themselves, “I don't know. I wasn’t- it wasn’t there when I went back looking for him. I don't know.”
Her eyes clouded, “I have to go.”
*
He made toast for Nikki and tried to ignore that the yellow flecks in her eyes were the same as her mother's and Johnny's. Where's Johnny? Please God. Find him.
He called Harry and then Lauren, from the extension in the hall.
“You’re not my real uncle, are you,” Nikki said when he came back into the kitchen, “like Uncle Johnny is?”
“No,” he said. “It’s a polite way for grownups to talk about their friends with their children.”
“I know,” she said. “But you are Robert.”
“Mmmm.”
“Are you sad about Uncle Johnny?”
“What?” Robert's face re-composed itself, “Worried, sweetie. We're all worried about him.”
“Is that why the policemen are here?”
He nodded.
She rocked gently, “He was watching.”
“Watching what sweetheart?”
“He said he was on the swings watching. He said to tell you he was sorry.”
“When did he say that, Nikki?” Robert's heart was moving but his breath wasn't.
“Last night. When everyone was asleep. He told me to tell you.”
“Did he say anything else? Did Mummy see him too?”
She shook her head.
“What happened then? After he said he was sorry?” Robert’s heart raced.
“Grandma came and they went to her place.”
“Do you know where Grandma lives? Does Mummy know?”
“Silly,” she looked at him as if he had forgotten something important. “Grandma lives with the angels in forever ever after in Heaven.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” He let this sink in. “I am silly, aren't I? Did you tell Mummy?”
“No,” she frowned, “he didn't tell me to. He said tell Robert.”
Robert calmed himself, “Can I ask you another question?”
“Mmm.”
“Does Grandma come, to see you, to visit often?”
“No. Just sometimes. But she said she's always there. Even when I can't see her.”
“How does that make you feel?”
Her eyebrows knitted, “Sometimes sad. Because she isn't here, here. But it's OK.”
“And does Mummy know that she visits you?”
“I s'pose,” her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Will you read to me?”
*
Marnie interrupted their story.
“The police want us to go to the station in Fortitude Valley,” she said. “That's where they have his things. Someone found them on the Story Bridge. They're saying it's suicide Robert. I can't believe that Johnny would do that. But…” her eyes lost something… “there's a body. They've found a body in the river. It can't be him, Robert, it can't…”
The words stopped flying, as the air carrying them out into the world stalled into a body jerking sob. Tears glided down her cheeks, and he folded his arms around her, trying to stop her from breaking.
He didn't realise he was crying too, until Nikki came in and hugged them both around the legs.
“Do you want me to come?” he asked when he felt her breathing change. “Lauren can come over. Someone should be here in case the phone rings.”
Marnie stared at it, as if it would burst into life.
Robert did too, imagining Johnny apologising. He'd been out. Time got away…
He caught the end of Marnie's explanation to Nikki, “…you remember Emma and Thomas, don't you?”
Nikki nodded.
“And when they get here, Uncle Robert will come and get us. I don't know how long we'll be.”
Nikki nodded again.
“Are you OK sweetheart?”
Nikki shook her head, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everyone's fear, “I don't want Uncle Johnny to go to forever-ever-after.”
Chapter 23
Robert sat in the corner of the empty police station waiting area, on the last of the joined-together red plastic chairs. Johnny'll be ok. Silence. Johnny will be OK, please God. Crushing silence. Then another thought. Unwanted. That the police from last night might belong to this Station.
He reached for an abandoned newspaper as two uniformed police came through the internal door separating the public area from the squad room. If they noticed him, they didn't seem to mind he was there.
Without even trying, his ears tuned in to their conversation.
“I'm telling you, it's not the same bloke.”
“Who made you the bloody expert?”
“I didn't say I was. But, my Uncle’s with the Water Police.”
“So?”
“Tides.”
“Well smart-arse. We've got a sighting; belongings lifted from between a girder and railing on the bridge, and a body, in the river. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
“Just because it's logical doesn't mean it's true. My Uncle, he's an auditor, he reckons you can be out by a cent, and write it off, but it could be you're out a hundred dollars on one hand, and ninetynine-ninetynine on the other. So you've missed two pretty big numbers. What if there were two jumpers? What if-”
“How many uncles’ve you got?”
“My point is-”
“Yeah, but why make life difficult? We've got a missing person, a body, and a big flag waving us in the face.”
“But, we're supposed to-”
“Put a sock in it, Kowalski. My uncle,” pause for emphasis, “says don't let the truth interrupt a good story.”
“Well you can laugh, but I'm telling you, if-”
“They went right back to the spot they'd reported sighting him and found the wallet and the jacket, all neatly stashed like he was at the pool for a swim, or some diving practice more like,” he laughed. “And they've got a witness. That drunk. Wouldn't say he'd be too reliable though,” another chuckle. “Might need a bit of a reminder.”
“Well why didn't they stop and check? They could have talked him down.”
“How the hell would I know? Probably 'cause they had a passenger. Anyway, we aren’t a counselling service.”
“But we're supposed to help people, it’s our duty-”
“Well I wouldn’t be holding no-one's hand on the wrong side of that railing. Hah, you know,” the officer paused, “everyone's been taking the soft landing on top of the Water Police headquarters lately. He mustn't have got the memo. Haha.”
“Someone died arsehole.”
“We all gotta go sometime.”
Kowalski's jaw tightened, “My point was, he'd be miles down-river on the outgoing tide. Or stuck somewhere in between and not, back the other way, in the mangroves.”
“What? Tides only go one way? Full of shit, Kowalski.”
Robert registered the fight falling out of Kowalski's next words, “Nope. Doesn't add up. Something stinks.”
“Hah. Your head's so far up your arse you think everything stinks.”
Kowalski flicked through some papers on the counter, “Hey. You 'right sir?”
Robert lowered the paper, “Me?”
Kowalski sighed, “I don't see anyone else here.”
Robert looked around, “Sorry.” He walked to the counter, “My friend and her dad are here. I'm waiting for them. They've come about a missing person.”
Kowalski reached for the sign in book, “Got some ID sir?”
Handing the driving license back to Robert, he said, “Need a new one soon.”
Robert checked the date, “Hey, thanks,” and obtrusively reading Kowalski's name tag hoping it signaled he hadn't been listening in, “Officer Kowalski.”
“All good sir. Just trying to be helpful.”
“Well, you didn't have to,” he found a smile. “Should I wait here?”
“Let me check for you.”
He was back quickly.
“Mr Carson, they've gone to the morgue. To identify the body.” He apologized when he saw Robert's face sag, “I'm sorry. Look. It may be. Or it maybe not.”
“I'm… are they coming back here? Should I…I'm not sure what…”
“I'll let them know you're here. And basically, regardless of whether, well you know… The pathologist does an examination and gives it to the coroner. His job is who died, where, when, and what happened.”
Robert nodded, he didn't want to embarrass Kowalski, “Mmm, thanks. I thought so.” And then, “But is it only a coroner? Shouldn't there be an inquest?”
“Not necessarily. Unless there's evidence or suspicion of foul play. I'll radio now and see where they are with all this, eh?”
“Can I ask you something?”
Kowalski nodded.
“How would they know if there's suspicion without an inquiry.”
“Hit the nail on the head there. But mine is not to reason why I s'pose.” Kowalski looked pointedly at his colleague on his way out.
He was a while.
“You look like you could use something stronger, but,” he lifted up the hinged part of the countertop, and led Robert through the visitor door off the main lobby into the back, stopping inside by the CafeBar and handing over a plastic cup of hot water.
Robert sat watching the tea-bag blob on the surface and slowly sink, then took a grateful sip.
“Mr Carson,” a concerned frown lined Kowalski's forehead, “I wanted to give you some privacy. They've made the identification.”
Robert's head barely moved in acknowledgement and his mind stilled completely.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Robert's eyes moved down from the ceiling, and he stared at the cup he was holding. He put it on the table, and rubbed his hands on his thighs, before they moved, still of their own accord and grabbed hold of his knees. He couldn’t think of anything to think or anything to say.
“So you been friends long? With the Saunders I mean?”
“Marnie and Johnny,” somehow the words came out, “I only met Jack today.”
He fell back into silence.
No. No. No. No. NO.
His chest moved. Shuddering. And then, noticing his hands gripping his knees, he loosened his fingers. He could feel moisture in the outside corners of his eyes, then sniffed. He looked at Kowalski, as if he couldn't understand what he was doing there, and then for some reason he took out his wallet and thought caught up, “I'm more than friends, I'm Johnny's lawyer.” He handed Kowalski his card, “He has, had, some history with you lot.”
