‘No, wait,’ he said, stepping closer to the fray. ‘They’re not interested in us. Let’s hear what De Vakey has to say for himself.’
She reluctantly followed Monty to stand within earshot of the crowd.
‘Mr De Vakey, how did you manage to pin the crimes on Tye Davis?’ one of the reporters asked.
De Vakey straightened his already straight tie, smoothed down his new toupee. ‘It was really a straightforward process: a combination of academic theory coupled with a logical examination of the evidence.’
Stevie frowned and nudged Monty in the ribs. ‘What the hell’s he on about?’
‘It’s called taking all the credit,’ Monty whispered back. ‘He used his finely honed profiler’s instincts to single-handedly solve the case, got it all from Justin Baggly, whom he knew all along was hiding some deep dark secret. Didn’t you realise that?’
Unsure if the emotions she felt churning inside her were anger or relief, Stevie decided to settle for a bit of each. Arrogant bloody bastard, she thought but found herself smiling all the same.
Someone else asked De Vakey, ‘So how does it feel to have brought a man like that to justice?’
‘Rather than that, I tend to dwell on how it would feel not to have brought the man to justice. At least now I can sleep again at night with a clear conscience, knowing that I did my best, knowing that there will be no more victims.’
Stevie’s eyes strayed to Vivienne, standing on her own away from the crowd.
‘How did you manage to tie this to Sbresni and Baggly?’
‘You’ll have to read the book.’
Polite laughter all around.
‘Will you return for the trials?’
‘Absolutely. And the Royal Commission into police corruption, naturally.’
‘When’s the book coming out, Mr De Vakey?’
‘My publisher has scheduled its release early next year. I would like to take this opportunity now to add that part of the proceeds will go to the victims of violent crime.’
To Stevie’s relief, Monty had heard enough. ‘This is making my teeth wobble.’ He indicated his car with a tilt of his chin.
Leaning against the car bonnet, each was lost in their own thoughts until Monty said, out of the blue, ‘You know, pinning you against the kombi after that Christmas party was not one of my finer moments.’ He took a breath. ‘You’d had a rough time with Tye, you were drunk, vulnerable. I took advantage of you, I’m sorry.’
The regret she heard in his voice made her own words dry up. She stared back at him with incomprehension. Surely he’d realised she was a willing participant? The alcohol may have spurred them on, but it hadn’t affected her judgement in the least.
Then a thought crossed her mind, so sudden and so startling that the carefully rehearsed words she’d planned for the pub were immediately forgotten.
Did he know? Did he know everything?
‘I never meant it to be like that,’ Monty continued, his gaze fixed on a nearby memorial fountain or maybe the old gum beyond. ‘I’ve been an idiot. Kept things to myself that I shouldn’t have.’ He paused, took her hand and turned to her. ‘I know you’ve applied for that job in Broome and I don’t blame you for wanting to get away, to start again. But I want you to know that I’ve loved you for years and always will. I should have told you earlier, I know, it might have saved a lot of grief all round, but I had no idea if you felt the same. I guess I couldn’t take the risk of rejection.’
Stevie became conscious of her rapidly beating heart. She should be hushing him up, but found she couldn’t deny herself the flush of pleasure his words were bringing.
‘And then after that night in the car park,’ he continued, ‘the way you never said a word to me about it. I felt ashamed, thought I’d ruined my chances.’
She put her hand on his arm. ‘That night in the car park— did you hear me complain?’
He shook his head and gazed at her for a moment, flabbergasted. ‘What? You mean...?
She met his eyes with her own, slid her hand behind his head and pulled him towards her.
Monty finally broke the kiss. He gazed at her with a widening smile then took her in his arms again and engulfed her in a breath-stopping hug. ‘C’mon,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘Let’s go collect our daughter. Take her home.’
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following for their help and support: Chris Nagel, Carole Sutton, Larry Votava, Trish O’Neill, John Harman, Leone Baxter, Janet Blagg, Leone Dyer, Margaret Johnson, John Robertson, Sergeant Ann Winton (Western Australian Police) and Superintendent Simon Young (Northern Territory Police, retired). And of course my family for putting up with all the vacant looks and the gruesome dinner-time conversations.
CITY OF LIGHT
Image I
the city rocks while heads roll
DAVE WARNER
‘Jesus Christ. I found one.’
Snowy Lane, preoccupied with a ham sandwich and the odds of making the football team on Saturday, takes the terrible phone call that signals the beginning of a series of events which are to reverberate in his life and shake the city to its foundations ... ‘Gruesome’ has taken another victim and the whole population is rivetted by the emergence of the dark side of the city of light.
...full of surprises and contradictions, wit and suspense ... Another little classic to carry down your own mean streets...
Graeme Blundell, Weekend Australian
Lively, funny, with enough plot for three novels...
Susan Geason, Sun-Herald