Surfing and rescuing kids from a bus crash had a tendency to drain one’s energy. Jay left the surfboard attached to the roof of the Chevy, navigated the security system and headed for a hot bath. He poured half a bottle of antiseptic liquid into a steaming bath before gingerly stepping in.
Jay didn’t have tweezers so he used his kitchen tongs to remove slivers of glass from his hands and knees. The shards became quite a collection in the ashtray beside the bath. He stayed in there for an hour, only moving to top up the hot water.
The events of the day played over in his mind. Coincidences too great to be a viable option in the believability stakes. He pondered why he would be a target ... and kept coming back to a year ago when he’d been shot. Yet, those loose ends had been tied off, hadn’t they? He wasn’t sure. He did, however, conclude that whoever wanted him dead wanted it to look like an accident. Caught in the middle of a robbery or bumped into a bus full of kids. This thought had been confirmed when he’d arrived home and there was nobody waiting for him. He was thankful for no more surprises though – too much excitement for one day.
He would have been happy to soak half the night away in the tub if it wasn’t for the large slice on his knee that needed stitches. The bleeding had stopped but the gash was too large. He didn’t want to risk infection and decided to go to hospital before it stiffened up too much.
Wearing a pair of board shorts, Billabong shirt and thongs, he grabbed his wallet and headed for the Byron District Emergency Ward for stitching up. Fortunately, he had plenty of bandages and medical supplies from his old gunshot wounds to wrap the gash before he left.
He parked the Chevy, now minus his surfboard, grabbed his mobile phone and made his way through the emergency department entrance.
About a dozen people mingled in the waiting room, including young girls with various bandages, Senior Constable Underwood and a partner, and what looked like social workers with their clipboards and sombre looks. Jay gave a wry smile to Underwood and approached reception. He spoke to a nurse who looked like her shift had ended six hours ago.
‘Hi. I’m here to get some stitches in my knee.’
‘Busy night.’ She looked towards the group of girls. ‘Bus crash.’
Jay nodded.
‘We’re just about done, so it shouldn’t be too long a wait. How did you hurt yourself?’
‘Being clumsy with some glass.’
The nurse looked down at the back of Jay’s hand resting on the counter and frowned. ‘I’ll need your details.’
Jay gave the nurse his details and took a seat while he waited. He picked up a three-year-old magazine and started to flick through it when he noticed a small figure standing in front of him. Although Jay didn’t know any ten-year-olds, he guessed that’d be about her age. She had her left arm in a cast and strapped across her chest. She held out her good hand to him.
‘I’m Jodi,’ she said.
Jay took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. ‘Jay.’
‘I just wanted to say thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, Jodi. Sorry if I was the one who broke your arm.’
She smiled. ‘No, it was already broken from the crash.’
Jay smiled back. ‘The other girl. The one with...’
‘With her ear missing?’
‘Yeah. How is she?’
‘A helicopter took Brooke to another hospital.’
Jay nodded, not wanting to push the point further in case it upset Jodi. He glanced around and then looked back at her. ‘Is everybody else okay?’
Jodi lowered her eyes. ‘Mr Baker died.’
Jay assumed that was the driver, and because Jodi started crying, he didn’t ask any more questions.
Jodi looked back up at Jay, tears dripping down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to do. Hug her? Inappropriate, perhaps. But at a time like this maybe it was the right thing to do. He was confused and chose the safe option and put his hand on her shoulder. She seemed to take that to mean a hug was in order. Jay patted her back like he would pat a dog. He didn’t have any kids or really know any kids. He looked over to the police officers, who were watching. Jay motioned for one of the other girls to come for Jodi and made his way to Underwood and his partner.
Underwood stood with hands on hips and a vicious scowl across his face. ‘What do you want?’
Jay rubbed his hand over the mark left by Underwood. ‘Guess we got off on the wrong foot, mate.’
‘Senior Constable.’
He gave it a shot, but Jay wasn’t in the mood. He turned his head towards the other police officer. ‘I need to talk to you about the accident.’
Underwood said, ‘What’s it got to do with you?’
Jay turned back to him. ‘I saw it happen.’
Underwood gave Jay the once-over. ‘Likely caused it. You’ll need to give a statement.’
‘That’s what I intend on doing as soon as I’m finished here.’
‘We’ll need to take it now.’
‘I’ll get stitched up and then give you my statement.’ Jay decided to tell them about the man fleeing the accident. ‘I’m trying to give you some important information now.’
‘Then we’ll take your statement now.’
Jay knew there was only one way to get Underwood off his back. ‘Fine, but it’s very detailed and may take a while.’
Underwood took a moment. ‘Constable Barnes will take your statement.’
Barnes rolled his eyes and dug a notebook out of his pocket. Underwood headed for a vending machine.
‘Okay, sir–’
‘I’m not giving a statement now,’ Jay said. ‘Your partner is a jackass. I’m injured, I’m hungry and I’m tired. I’ll give a full statement first thing in the morning.’ Jay hoped Barnes disliked his partner as much as Jay imagined he would.
Barnes looked over at his partner, who was pulling a packet of potato chips and a chocolate bar from the vending machine, then looked back to Jay. ‘Let’s hear what you have to say then, Mr...?’
‘Ryan. First name Jay.’
‘Okay, Jay, go ahead.’
Good, Jay thought. Barnes had the forethought to attempt rapport by addressing Jay by his first name. An important ingredient in any interview. Just maybe, Constable Barnes would believe him and take the appropriate action. ‘It wasn’t an accident. A guy in a four-wheel drive attempted to push me into the bus.’
Barnes breathed in hard. ‘We’re aware the driver of the other vehicle has left the scene.’
‘I assumed that. Did you know that driver tried to push my vehicle in front of the bus?’
Another deep breath. ‘You must be mistaken. From what I’ve heard, the bus and the other vehicle came together. If your car was involved in the crash, why did you leave the scene of the accident?’
Barnes had a point. Jay realised giving his theory to the cops may be premature. He nodded and rubbed his palm against his forehead. ‘Yeah. I suppose I’m a little groggy from the accident. I may be mistaken...’
‘Jay Ryan?’ The call came from the nurse at reception.
A way out. Jay looked up and the nurse pointed to a man with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Jay got up and immediately had to take the weight off his knee.
He glanced back to Constable Barnes. ‘I’m going to get stitched up. We’ll talk more when I’m done.’
He limped over to the doctor, wondering what Barnes would say to his partner.
Jay followed the doctor into a small cubicle and sat atop a medical trolley. The doctor unravelled the bandage from Jay’s knee and started organising instruments, getting ready to stitch the wound. Jay pulled out his phone and dialled a number he had committed to memory.
‘You can’t use that in here, Mr. Ryan. It interferes with our equipment.’
Jay looked around the small cubicle. ‘I don’t think it’ll mess with the electronics of that needle and string you’re going to use on my knee, doctor. Besides, it’s a matter of national security.’
The doctor shrugged and Jay waited for the call to connect to the Director of Australia’s National Intelligence Service.
‘Hello, son.’