‘What the hell am I doing?’
My perception of the idyllic countryside had taken on a more sinister tone, even the antics of a couple of magpies strutting in the grass verge couldn’t deflect from the palpable sense of dread. I turned into Trevor Ray’s driveway. It was a wonder I’d made it here at all, as I’d concentrated more on practising my pitch than my driving. It was only luck that there had been no other cars to contend with. Even after all that rehearsal, I had major reservations about how well my questions would be received or even what those questions would be. Perhaps I’d start by asking about TB – take the angle of still following up on Gaby’s story, throw him off the scent. Then I’d gently steer towards questions about Casanova and that bloodline. I wondered how far I could push it without tipping him off. Mind you, if Trev had the disease I thought he did, he might not be thinking that well, anyway. His decision to kill off Gaby was testament to skewed thought processes. Still, this would be a good opportunity to get a good look at him and check for further evidence of his CJD. Not that I was any kind of doctor.
CJD, BSE, TB – so many acronyms just added to the generalised spin in my head. What was I doing here again? If I had half a brain, I’d turn the car around and head straight back home. Only now, somehow, I was in too deep and this had to be done. There was no going back. There was always a risk Trev would run me off the property like Phillip had, but so far he’d been keen to help – overly keen, doing a bit of scent-throwing of his own. I would have to count on his continued cooperation. Maybe my association with Cole might ease the way somewhat.
Cole. That was another thing altogether. I pushed any thoughts of him out of my head and ordered the butterflies that charged around my stomach into formation.
This was probably the most foolhardy thing I’d ever done in my life. But then, what choice had I been given? I headed slowly up towards the house.
When I crested the last rise of the drive and entered the yard, I was surprised to be confronted by a herd of parked cars and utilities. There were six vehicles in the car park, including Trevor’s and Cole’s; Janice Ray’s car was notably absent. It looked like quite a gathering, and thus probably not the ideal time to quiz Trevor on the whereabouts and origins of his prized stud bull. Again, I seriously contemplated turning around and going home, but sheer curiosity got the better of me. It may have been coincidental, but I recognised several vehicles here as belonging to people whose names had featured in my investigations.
I parked as close to the driveway entrance as I could without actually blocking it, and with the nose pointed in the right direction just in case I needed a quick exit. It didn’t hurt to be careful. I almost laughed out loud as the idiocy of the idea hit me. Here I was on my own, in the middle of nowhere, about to question my suspected murderer, on his turf, with his mates present. Careful it wasn’t. Bloody stark raving bonkers it most definitely was.
At least no one had come out to investigate my arrival. I decided on a quick reconnoitre around the outside of the house. If anyone challenged me, I’d just say I’d knocked at the door and no one had answered. It sounded pretty convincing to me.
The gravel crunched unbearably loud under my footsteps, and when I tried to walk quietly it seemed to have the exact opposite effect. I knew a little of the layout of Trevor’s house from my earlier visit. Instead of heading towards the front door, I skirted around the side and along the southern wall; I crouched low at windows and checked out each room. The southern side consisted of bedrooms, with the kitchen down the furthest end. I recalled a large farmhouse table in the kitchen, and I assumed this was where they’d all be. A peek through the window by the sink told me they weren’t there, or in the lounge beyond. It must be the formal dining room then, on the north-facing side of the house.
As I neared the window I could make out the murmur of voices, though none was distinct. A handily placed kowhai tree afforded me some cover as I cautiously peered through the window. I need not have bothered with the subterfuge: the faces were in such intent discussion I could probably have paraded across in the nuddy and they wouldn’t have noticed.
I took inventory of the men gathered there, attired in their very best suits. They must have called for this war council to occur straight after Gaby’s funeral. And war council it was. I was close enough to catch some of the more heated comments, and my pulse picked up pace as I heard not only Gaby’s name but my own bandied around in not too complimentary terms. A roll call of those present made a disheartening list of people at the very heart of the Mataura community: Trevor Ray; Phillip Rawlings; Edgar Pride, one of the vets from the meat-processing plant; John Fellows, management from the very same plant; Henry Purvis, a local farmer from the property that adjoined Trevor’s and a popular local character known as Mataura’s unofficial mayor. It hadn’t occurred to me that Gaby’s death had been a committee decision made by town council. I had only thought of it in terms of Trevor protecting his interests, not…
A hand dropped onto my shoulder and another wrapped itself across my mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to explode. I flailed and kicked out as I was grabbed and dragged away from the window and around the side of the house. There, I was abruptly dropped onto the ground, where I gasped for air and then almost threw up as my chest pounded up into my larynx.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Cole towered over me, his teeth gritted as he hissed out the words. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’
I skittered away backwards like some panic-stricken crab. All I had been trying to deny about this man ripped through my conscience like a knife. He was here and he was part of it.
‘Keep away from me, you bastard. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here. They killed her, didn’t they? Shut her up to stop her telling about that bloody bull. Shit, you killed her. I can’t believe you did this.’
‘Sam, no, I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it.’ He reached down to grab my arm, but I slapped his hand away, hard, then flipped over onto my front, leaped up and ran like hell around the back of the house. ‘Sam, let me explain…’
The words trailed after me as my feet flew across the grass. There was no way he was going to get close enough to explain anything. He could explain to the bloody police. I could hear his footsteps pounding behind me as I broke across the car park, threw myself at the car door, ripped it open and hurled myself inside. I flicked the door lock just as he banged against the side, trying to get in.
‘Sam, stop. You have to let me explain.’
I fumbled around in my pocket, located the keys and jammed them into the ignition. It might have been old, but Maggie’s car was reliable and I wept with relief as the engine fired with first turn of the key. I didn’t dare look at the face at the window; I heard only the thump of fists on the roof as I threw the car into gear and skidded off straight down the driveway.
‘Shit, shit, shit.’ Hindsight was a bloody marvellous thing, and it told me I was mad to have come out here alone.
‘Stupid, stupid, bitch. What were you thinking?’
My chest ached, and so did my head as my body processed an overdose of adrenaline. The car skittered over the gravel as I wound my way recklessly down the drive and then floored it as I hit the straight. My wet hands struggled to keep grip on the steering wheel. I pulled out onto the road and let out a monstrous breath as the tyres gripped the security of the tarmac.
It was then that the shiver plunged down my spine and the heart that had been in my mouth plummeted to my boots. Without the roar of tyres on gravel, a noise other than Maggie’s engine whining had begun to register on my radar, and it was increasing in volume as it got closer. I glanced rapidly over my shoulder to see a motorbike, and the dust trail it threw up had just hit the straight bit of the driveway. The form astride it could only belong to Cole.
I threw the gear stick down a gear to try to get some speed up, and chopped it up again when the engine was finally screaming enough. The speedometer climbed and climbed, but the mass in the rear-view mirror still got larger and larger. Maggie’s car was no match for a motorbike – but then what could he do? He couldn’t run me off the road. He couldn’t stop me. I steeled my gaze ahead and kept driving.
Even over the din of the car’s straining engine the wasp-like drone grew louder and louder until, in a flash of movement and noise, he was past me.
‘You’re OK, you’re OK, he can’t stop you, you’re bigger than he is,’ I kept telling myself.
I considered turning around and going back the other way, but quickly dismissed the idea. The others in the house must have heard me leave. They could have been following too, for all I knew. Cole, meantime, had disappeared around the bend ahead, and I eased back on the accelerator; it was obvious speed wasn’t going to get me out of this one. I’d just have to work my way into town and straight to the station. If it looked like nobody was there, I’d head right on to the Gore…
‘Oh shit, shit, shit.’ I took my foot off the gas and coasted forward. ‘I don’t bloody believe it!’ I had forgotten about the one-lane bridge.
Cole was positioned sideways across it, still astride his bike, his hand out, beckoning me to stop. I could roar the engine and run him down. But no, in reality, I couldn’t. Despite everything, I couldn’t deliberately harm him. Capitulation was the only available course of action. I slowed down and came to a halt a few metres from where he stood, my hands gripping the steering wheel, the engine still running. He climbed off the bike, left it smack in the middle of the bridge and slowly walked over to the car. His face twitched and moved, as if it couldn’t decide on which of a thousand emotions to portray.
‘Sam, you have to let me explain. I need to talk to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me.’
‘Well, I’m not bloody well getting out of the car, so if you’re going to explain, hurry up and get on with it.’ If he wanted to talk it would have to be through five millimetres of toughened glass. I would not give up my fortress.
He leaned forwards, his hands on either side of the window frame, and placed his forehead against the glass. When he spoke it was with a voice battered by grief and guilt.
‘I didn’t have anything to do with Gaby’s murder,’ he said.
‘So you’ve already said.’ I wasn’t in a mood to be charitable.
‘Trev was worried she’d figured out about the bull.’
‘Oh, so you were just conspiring to hide something of major importance to the whole damned country.’ Once again, the rage that had built up over the course of the week pushed aside any fear.
‘Yes. No. We just wanted to wait, have him tested, make sure it was BSE before we alerted the whole world. Even a rumour of it could have screwed the country, screwed us all.’
‘Well, was it worth it?’ I asked. The contempt split my voice.
‘Christ, we didn’t think he’d kill her. He said he’d take care of it. We thought he meant talk to her, bribe her, for God’s sake, not kill her.’
‘But you knew, you bloody well knew who killed her. Why didn’t you just tell me? Jesus Christ, you bloody well slept with me and you didn’t think to mention it? What, you thought you’d score some points with the good guys? Sleep with the cop, see if she goes easy on me. Or were you just keeping an eye on me, making sure I didn’t get too close? You’re a worthless piece of shit.’
He lifted his head and looked at me then, his face ravaged by emotion.
‘I was in an impossible position.’
‘Oh yeah, poor little you. Gaby’s dead, Lockie’s lost his wife, Angel her mother – and you were in an impossible position? Well, wake up, sunshine. She was your best mate’s wife. You were best man at their fucking wedding. How could you betray them like that? Where did your loyalties lie? Obviously not with your friends or anyone who really mattered. Why did you shield Trev? Why didn’t you just dob him in?’
‘Who would believe me? I was too close to him. I’d be tarred with the same brush.’
‘Yeah, well, you sure as hell are now. Any plea of innocence will just be laughed at by the law. At best, you’re an accessory to a murder. The police know everything; I’ve filled them in. What? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Poor ditzy little Sam, she wouldn’t figure it out. Was that what you were counting on? Well, tough shit, guys, I did find out. I have got a brain. So you and Trev and the rest of that pathetic gang back there can bloody well go and rot in hell. Now, get that heap of shit out of my way before I run it over.’
I glared at him with a hatred that threatened to melt the glass barrier between us, but he couldn’t meet my eyes. Shoulders slumped, he pulled himself up and walked over to move the bike.
I loosened my cramped fingers off the steering wheel and extracted my fingernails from the cuts they had made in the plastic. Then, with a purposeful calm that belied my inner emotions, I put the car into gear and drove on past him without a second look.