24

It was an hour before I was in any fit state to attempt exercise, physically or psychologically. After the departure of the news crew, I flinched at any sound that could have signalled another intrusion. It was tempting to hole up inside for the day and try to stay invisible, but the fact was that the thought of hanging around home doing nothing was worse than that of being accosted by journalists, or anyone else for that matter. Anyway, I had prepared a kind of statement if the chance came up again.

Despite my own assurances, I looked up and down the street several times before being satisfied I was not under surveillance. I’m sure I looked the part – running shoes, bike pants, sports top, cap, sunglasses. OK, the sunglasses weren’t standard-issue running gear, but you had to make allowances. At least I was mobile. I started out at a light jog, which lasted all of thirty seconds before I realised pounding the pavement was going to be reciprocated by pounding in another rather tender part of my anatomy. I’d settle for a brisk walk.

To give myself some credit, I did make the effort to walk up a hill. Part of that was to throw off any imagined followers; I figured they’d decide it wasn’t worth it if it involved huffing and puffing. The Terrace walkway proved to be a bit of a trap for the unwary. It had been an age since I’d walked through it, and I’d never seen it this overgrown before. The wooden walkway was as slick as soap from the heavy dew – I almost came a greaser a couple of times – and the only reprieve was on the odd areas that had been overlaid with chicken-wire to afford some kind of grip. I thought I’d cheat and have a rest on the park bench and take in the view, but the overgrowth had blocked out any sight of the town. The self-seeding pittosporums – the opportunist sods – had taken advantage of nobody ripping them out. They created a lush, green wall. Consequently, the only thing of interest to ponder was the graffiti on the bench. Every one of my senses was in overdrive. The light was too glary, even through the sunglasses, the damp scent of earth and rotting leaves overwhelmed to the point where I could taste it and I wished the over-exuberant grey warblers would shut the hell up. Did they have to be so bloody cheerful? The whole idea of exercise under adverse conditions suddenly lost its charm. Stuff this, I thought, and headed back down to town.

I decided to cut across the river at Bridge Street and walk casually by the police command centre, just on the off chance I’d run into someone I knew. I was dying to find out if anything new had happened in the investigation. There was also the issue of where the reporter had got her information from. If it had come from the police, I would be not only highly pissed off, but also rather nervous, as it would mean I hadn’t been ruled out as a suspect yet. The water beneath the bridge had a repugnant yellowy frothed scum drifting along its surface. It seemed an oddly appropriate adornment, considering the Mataura’s recent cargo. My eyes followed the scum’s trail upstream to the back of the meat works. Not the most picturesque of vistas today. The smell wasn’t too flash either and my stomach threatened to protest.

My thoughts were disturbed by loud voices, and as I reached the other side of the bridge I saw two men gesticulating angrily.

‘Oh shit.’ I ignored the pain and broke into a sprint for the Riverside Medical Centre. One of the voices belonged to Dr Tony Walden and the other to Lockie Knowes. Those two in close proximity was not a good thing. In fact, they had got to the point of shoving and I was pretty sure blows were about to rain down if someone didn’t intervene.

‘Lockie, you stop it right there!’ I hollered.

Both men looked up, startled, and when they saw it was me gave me looks best described as unwelcoming.

‘What the hell is going on?’

I finally made it to where they were having it out and stepped into the narrow gap between them. Francine stood in the doorway, clutching the phone, as if ready to call the police. Christ, that would be all we needed. I waved her away.

‘What are you doing, Lockie? It’s not a good idea for you to be here, you know.’

‘I was just going to show this filthy piece of scum what I thought of him and his treatment of my wife.’ Lockie leaned over me to have another go at Walden, who looked like he’d be quite happy to shove back. I pushed Lockie away to get some room between them, but the idiot of a doctor moved towards us again, so this time I turned my attention to him.

‘Just step back and get out of the way.’ I was in no mood for taking any crap from either of them.

‘What’s it to you?’ The doctor’s voice spat with venom. ‘You’ve done enough damage already with your groundless accusations.’

That was a bit more than I was capable of shouldering right now, so I jumped astride my high horse and charged.

‘Me? You’re blaming me for your problems? Me? You were the one who couldn’t keep your puny little dick in your pants. You were the one who could only get someone to sleep with you by bloody well blackmailing her. I bet your own bloody wife won’t sleep with you and, Christ, I hope she leaves you and takes you for everything you’ve got. You bloody deserve it. How dare you blame me for your pathetic little troubles. You should be ashamed of yourself. People trust you. You’re a doctor, for God’s sake. You were the one who chose to destroy a life just so you could get your rocks off. You. You make me sick.’

Walden had moved several steps backwards. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him escape until I had finished my lecture: I was just getting warmed up. I pressed on forwards, right in his face, my finger levelled millimetres before his nose.

‘If it turns out you didn’t kill Gaby, I will still personally make sure you never practise medicine ever again. You blackmailed your patient! Christ Almighty, you threatened to take her baby away. What were you bloody thinking?’ By this stage he was backed up against a railing with nowhere else to go. And I hadn’t finished yet.

‘You won’t be able to show your face around here by the time I’m done with you. Your name will be crap. People will look upon you like something cheaper than roadkill. By God, I will make sure you suffer just as much as Gaby did.’

I would have spat at him if I had been that way inclined; as it was, it was bad enough manners for me to swear and yell. I don’t know what my blood pressure was doing, but judging by the heat in my face and supernova in my head it was probably getting dangerously high. I thought perhaps it was time to retreat. I looked around, and there were several others as well as Walden now looking pretty startled. I turned to Lockie, grabbed him by the arm and guided him, stupefied, back to his car.

‘He’s just not worth it, Lockie. If you hit him, the bastard would just have you charged with assault. Angel’s already lost one parent, don’t let her lose another.’ I said it loudly enough so everyone present could hear.

I think they were all clear about my opinion on the matter.