‘Dan? This is Maggie. Maggie Henkler … err … Lindeman … err … Henkler. It’s Maggie.’
‘Maggie. Hello.’
‘I’m sorry to be calling out of the blue like this. If it’s not a convenient time I can—’
‘Slow down. It’s fine. Calling now is perfectly fine. Anytime you want to call is fine by me.’ Dan heard the edge in Maggie’s voice. This wasn’t a social call.
Whatever it was, Dan was pleased. He’d given up the idea of seeing Maggie again. After emailing and leaving messages with the grumpy commandant at the hotel he’d just about given up on hearing her voice, too.
‘Something’s wrong, Maggie. What is it?’
‘Dan, I’m so sorry. It’s a long story that I hardly have time to tell.’
‘Then don’t give me the whole story. Tell me what you need.’ He heard a gasp. Not surprise or shock. It was more like when you catch that first breath after being underwater for too long.
‘I need to ask a favour. It’s about Noah and … and Brian.’
Dan listened as Maggie cried her way through a short, jumbled-up version of her relationship and marriage. Keeping up wasn’t easy and if it had been any other person, Dan would have been compelled to ask a lot more questions before agreeing to barrel into another bloke’s apartment in a not-so-official capacity. But this was Maggie, and he knew from the sound of her voice there was no time to stuff around with details. He could—and would—ask questions later about the state of her marriage, out of a personal need to know rather than a professional one.
At this point he didn’t dare let himself think about the difference Maggie’s admission of a failing marriage made to him. Did he have a chance after all? The possibility was enough to squeeze his stomach tight. She hadn’t been out of his thoughts all this time and with nothing to occupy his mind this blasted long service leave was driving him crazy.
Such thoughts had no place in his head now, though. Maggie was asking for help, not more complications in her life. If he and Maggie shared anything, it was agreeing that family came first. After all, wasn’t it that sense of family that had kept the two of them apart as teenagers? That and Dan’s self-destructive attitude. Wasn’t it also family loyalty that had prevented him from being more up-front with Maggie at the reunion about his marriage to Tracy? The decision might have been unfair to Maggie that night, but no one could accuse Dan of being a bad husband or father. He’d been there for his kids in every way and hugged away his share of scraped knees and prepubescent blues. He could help Noah and Maggie.
‘What’s the address?’
Dan wrote down what she told him. He knew the area: the good, the bad and the ugly. He could even picture the block—a multi-storey, red-brick building from the seventies, bookended by similar buildings and all with what Dan called why-even-bother balconies—too small for much of anything except maybe a potted herb garden. And he used the word herb loosely about any greenery in that particular neighbourhood. A wedge of the working class between the city and Sydney’s trendy eastern suburbs.
‘I’m worried for Noah. I’m worried about what he might find when he gets to the flat. I need to talk to him first. I need to explain. I should’ve been more honest, but I was trying to preserve their relationship. Noah is his son …’ There was such sadness in the way her words trailed away to nothing. ‘I tried to raise Brian on the phone. Even if I could, I’m not sure he’d understand what I was saying. I’d drive down myself, but if I left now—’
‘Don’t leave, Maggie.’ Hadn’t he heard those words in his head over and over since the reunion? ‘Not yet. You may not need to make that drive. Let me check out Brian’s place first. If Noah is on the overnight bus, he won’t hit Sydney until first thing tomorrow. I’ll check the bus schedule at the station to be sure, but from memory the Saddleton service stops at other towns en route.’
‘Maybe I’m jumping the gun. Maybe he’s not going to Sydney. Maybe … Maybe I don’t know.’
‘Come on, Maggie.’ He wanted to leap through the phone and grab her. He knew she only needed a little propping up. Maggie was strong. He knew that after the other night. ‘You know your husband and you know your son. That’s good enough.’
‘I don’t know anything any more except that Noah has been at me for ages about his dad. I saw Brian the day after Amber Bailey’s funeral. He’s so different to the person we left behind two years ago. I can’t believe how much he’s changed. I had no idea.’
‘Just remember, Maggie, if Noah is coming to Sydney he’s coming back to a city he knows. Your apartment is not far from the bus terminal. Leave it with me.’
‘I do sound like a crazy woman, don’t I?’
‘No, you sound like a mother.’ He heard her choke back a sob, the sort he’d heard too many times, the sort a grieving parent holds in until the copper with the bad news leaves and they close the door. ‘I also understand you preserving that father–son relationship. Just know I’m here for you. Both of you. Okay?’
‘Dan, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say goodbye and say you’ll stop worrying. I’ve got your number. I’ll stay in touch.’
‘Thank you, Dan. Thank you.’
Dan called his squash buddy to tell him something urgent had come up and to cancel the court, given squash wasn’t much of a game for one. Then he headed over to the address Maggie had given him, swearing under his breath at the irony of her having lived within a short drive of him for so long.
Except for his stint at the Police Academy in Goulburn, Dan and Tracy had lived across the bridge to the north of the city, in the leafier, more suburban Lane Cove. He hadn’t shifted suburbs, just streets, when he moved out two months ago. No wonder Maggie had opted to go back to Calingarry Crossing when her father fell too ill to manage the pub. With Kings Cross her nearest train station and the eclectic clash of haves and have-nots packed into surrounding streets, her apartment block was a great location for an ambitious musician, but hardly one for raising a child.
Dan dropped by Kings Cross station for a word with the Area Commander. Even an unofficial job called for prudence and observance of certain protocols. He could also check out this Brian Henkler on the police database for any form, complaints or disturbance reports. Then check known associates, outstanding warrants, that sort of thing.
Dan had no mental image of the bloke as he used to be back in Calingarry Crossing. What he remembered from the brief overlapping acquaintance when they were teenagers, both keen on the same girl—Dan slightly less vigorously, given she was out of bounds and his mate’s kid sister—was a weird little guy whose intense passion for music kept him on a natural high. That’s how he had seemed to Dan. He might have been soft around the edges, in Dan’s terms, but he had talent, even though the smooth, John Williamson-style singing voice seemed incongruent with his weedy stature and pock-marked complexion. One thing Dan did recall whenever he ran into Brian, apart from him being with Maggie, was an edginess that somehow exaggerated the guy’s high. Henkler had been like a balloon. One that goes up and up and up into the atmosphere, building pressure until—BAM!—it bursts and plummets. The louder and more hyper Brian became, the more Dan wanted to scrunch up his face and stick his fingers in his ears to prepare for the inevitable pop. The bloke was always louder, funnier, and obviously more fascinating than the broody, rebellious Dan, whose idea of charming the girls back then—charming anyone in fact—was big-noting himself or making a scene. Dan had gone out of his way to be the bad boy in town, too stupid to understand that bad boys only ever ended up with bad girls, like Amber Bailey.
How lucky was he when he’d scored that security job and Tracy came along and let him fall in love with her. In The Making of Dan Ireland, which is what he called those early days of their relationship, Tracy had introduced a sceptical Dan to some of the gentler things in life, like ballet. His first-ever concert was the Sydney Dance Company’s interpretive performance of Romeo and Juliet. He knew little of the story before he saw the performance and by intermission he was totally baffled. His wife’s explanation had sparked his interest in the show’s second half, maybe because she’d used Dan’s language. Or maybe because Dan recognised the plot: ‘This dude kills his girlfriend’s brother and even though it was an accident, the girl’s parents forbid her to see the dude again, so they’re destined never to be together.’
The memory of that performance played on Dan’s mind as he sorted through police records in one of the back rooms at Kings Cross local area command. Aside from a few DUIs, which eventually resulted in a loss of licence, Brian Henkler—aka Reece Naylor—had been barred from several local hotels and had a couple of domestic noise complaints lodged against him. There was nothing more serious, or serious enough to have made its way into the official police records at least.
‘Reece Naylor?’
Maggie had said there was a lot to tell. Dan guessed he’d find out more about this Reece Naylor character soon enough.