Chapter one

He swung the wheel hard to the right to avoid the ever-present pothole that occupied the last corner on the dirt road leading down to Seaweeds. Inevitably he hit it anyway and the music skipped half a track in protest. The old van was not enjoying the trip down the three kilometers of torture, but as long as she kept going he was not going to replace her. He’d often thought of buying one of those flash new Ravs or something, but it made no sense to spend that much money when the old girl was doing the job.

He pulled up in the dusty clearing that served as a parking lot and reluctantly switched off the engine. He’d charged the battery overnight after the thing wouldn’t start outside the shopping centre, forcing him to enlist some passers by to push start it. He hoped it would start again after his session.

It was cool walking along the track under the low wattle and bottlebrush trees. He pulled the hood up, hunched his shoulders and tried to stay in the feeble early morning sun. The dew was cold on his feet and had soaked the bottom of his trackies by the time he cleared the trees. He crested the sand dunes to finally get a look at the waves.

That was the problem with this place; there was no way of checking the surf without actually making the trek. It was worth it though because the drive kept the grommets away and the location of the access road was a local secret. A crowd here was ten people, and rarely did you see any blowins. If you did it was usually someone’s mate or a rellie from out of town.

The small but clean left-hander off the rocks was working nicely in the offshore breeze, definitely worth a paddle. A hundred meters to the south, a wedge was spitting fast rights into the gutter where the creek ran out. The creek was the architect here, depositing sand in all the right places and gave fresh water to wash off the salt at the end of a hot day. Unfortunately the Tea-tree stained water was discolouring the waves after last night’s storms pushed their runoff into the ocean.

He waited for a set to come through before making the decision to take on the rights near the creek. There were three waves in the set and the second one had almost tubed, causing his mood to lighten even more in anticipation. He jogged back to the van and began fumbling out of his clothes. It was one of those days, he was thinking, that nobody ever believes actually happened. Part of him wanted one of the guys to turn up just to share the stoke. But the other side of him wanted it all to himself, to bottle it up and keep in his experience. There was little chance of Baz or Shorty coming though, both of them were working on Len’s place, which counted Len out too. And big Gavin had finally gone on that trip to Indo with his mates from the mal club up north.

He grabbed the new 6’1” and gave it a quick rub of wax. It was ridiculous; he was almost trembling with anticipation like he did when he was a kid. He locked the van and hung the key around his neck, tucking it into the top of his rashie.

He took the other track this time, the one that ran down the side of the creek bed. The brown water was cold and scattered with debris from the storm. He emerged from the trees and walked along the edge where the water had scalloped out the sand. He jumped down the ledge and splashed across to the other side. It was then that he saw it.

At first he thought it was a garbage bag that had spilled open leaving a trail of rubbish to wash into the sea. Then his heart skipped a beat as he realised it was a human body. He stopped dead in his tracks, struck by disbelief and fear. It took a moment for his brain to react to what he was seeing. He looked cautiously around and then started to walk slowly towards the grizzly scene.

The body was partially buried face down in the sand. It was a man with sandy brown hair, slightly balding on top. The dark blue rash vest he was wearing was pulled up around his armpit on one side. It revealed a large wound where internal organs had been pulled out, either by the rushing water or curious wildlife. Grey and white boardshorts held only one leg intact; the other was nowhere to be seen.

He stood over the body for a moment trying to understand what he was seeing. His blood was pounding so loud in his ears that it drowned out the oceans call. His eyes stared in fascination and abhorrence for what seemed like and eternity until eventually his thoughts began to coalesce again. He put the surfboard down on top of the bank. He realised that the man was dead and that he had been there for a while, at least overnight. It seemed obvious that whatever happened it hadn’t happened this morning, besides there were no other cars in the car park.

Suddenly he turned and ran; sprinting up the beach like a scared rabbit. His thighs and calves burned excruciatingly as he pounded up the last of the small dunes and down the shady track. He was panting heavily by the time he reached the van. He fumbled frustratingly with the key before reefing the door open and then stopped to curse himself for locking his phone in the glove box. The key to the glove box was in his trackpants in the back. “AAArgh” he yelled.

He had no idea why he was hurrying; the body wasn’t going anywhere. When he eventually got to the phone he tried to force himself to calm down by taking deep breaths while sitting on the tailgate of the van. It was futile, no matter how hard he tried, he continued to shake and hyperventilate.

He turned on the phone and looked at the screen, only to find that there was no signal. Unfazed, he ran around to the front of the van and climbed up the roo bar and onto the roof. There was still no signal. “Shit” he said. He had a quick look around for a decent tree, but the local stunted scrub was no higher than the van roof. He jumped down off the van and ran back up the track towards the beach. There was still no signal on the top of the low dunes but he didn’t stop to curse it, instead he ran for the rocks at the north end of the beach.

The rough volcanic rocks cut and gaffed his feet and hands as he climbed, but he took little notice of it. The rocky point dominated the surrounding area and was home to a pair of Sea Eagles. He hoped that he wouldn’t disturb them too much. It was a frustratingly slow ascent punctuated by frequent stops to pull out the phone to see if there was any signal. Finally at the top, he grabbed the phone and stared hopefully at the screen. 1 bar was all he had. He dialed 000.

“Hello, your location please”

“There’s a dead body on the beach, I need the police”

“Yes, but I……..loca…”

“Hello, can you hear me”

“……ation……signa…….ice”

He looked at the screen again; it was blank. “Shit, shit, double shit!” he said in frustration. He punched the on/off button several times but the signal was dead.

Seaweed beach was slap bang in the middle of a national park. To the south was five-mile beach, culminating at Blakely’s Head. To the north was Kilometers of rocky headlands and inlets. The nearest phone would be back up the track to the fire road and down to the Servo on the highway. He began his slow tedious climb down the rocks.

He’d looked towards the spot where the body lay several times, but the deep gouge that the creek had carved hid it from view. He could make out his board sitting on the top of the edge and he glanced at the surf momentarily.

Strange thoughts began to enter his mind, like ‘The guys dead, it won’t matter if I have a surf’ and ’ if he was murdered, I wonder if the murderer is still around, maybe watching from the bushes?’ He couldn’t help but look around at the now strangely hostile bush. He shrugged resignedly and finished his decent. He realised now that running was crazy and jogged wearily back to the van. He had no idea that his frustration was about to multiply.

He reached the van and shut the tailgate then climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. He was rewarded with a clicking noise from the starter solenoid. “Not now, you useless piece of junk” he yelled in frustration. The dash lights glowed dimly in the morning sun, only to disappear whenever he turned the key to the start position. There was enough power in the battery to light the lights, but not enough to turn the starter motor.

Emotion began to get the better of him and tears of frustration began to well up in his eyes. He slumped forwards onto the steering wheel. He lay there for several minutes on the edge of loosing it altogether.

It was the sound of the ocean coming back into his consciousness that suddenly made him sit up. One thing he new for sure, the tide was coming in and the creek was rushing out. That meant that the body would likely be buried under tons of sand and water if he took the time to walk out to the Servo.

His thoughts suddenly came alive with ideas. Maybe someone else would turn up. Or ‘the bodies’ friends might know he was here and come looking for him. After all, he looked like a surfer and surely he’d told someone where he was going? Sickeningly, he realised that nobody new his whereabouts either. His girl would not expect to see him until late afternoon and his boss had laid him off for a couple of days due to lack of work.

He climbed out of the van and began to make his way back towards the creek trail. He knew that he was going to have to move the body to higher ground before he could start the long walk to the Servo.

The sight still shocked and sickened him as he approached. His limited knowledge of human biology only told him that the entrails wriggling in the creeks’ current where intestines or something. He got down on his knees and tried to push them back into the body. He was suddenly overwhelmed by nausea. He closed his eyes and held his stomach. It was going to be impossible to push them back in these circumstances. He sat back on his haunches and surveyed the situation. “Sorry mate” he said.

He stood up and grabbed hold of the arm that was lying outstretched in the water and began to pull. It was incredibly difficult to keep his footing and maintain leverage. The body slowly began to pull free, first at the shoulder and then the torso. It came out with a loud sucking sound. That was all it took for him to begin retching into the creek.

It wasn’t the noise or the smell that had made him retch. It was the feel of the flesh, which had softened and puffed up from its exposure to the water. He gathered himself and washed his mouth out in the creek water. The Tea tree flavoured water wasn’t much relief. It took a lot of nerve to look down at the face that stared sightlessly up at the sky.

He had seen a dead body before; one of his workmates had died after falling from a roof and landing awkwardly on the top of a pile of bricks. But that didn’t make this task any easier. Resignedly he grabbed the arm again and began trying to pull the body up the sand bank. After several minutes he realised that it was going to be impossible to make it by himself. He had a quick look around and tried to decide where the high tide line might be. There was a flat area about ten meters away that had been left when the creek had changed direction. He decided that it would have to do.

It took him best part of half an hour to drag the inert body onto the dry space, by which time he was completely exhausted. He flopped down into the creek and let the cool water flow over him. He lay prone under the suns accusing glare for a few minutes. Eventually he got up and wearily decided that the walk up to the servo was unavoidable. He looked back at the body as he walked away. He’d tried to arrange it as comfortably as possible, it seemed like the best thing he could do.

Back at the van he tried the engine again but it was even deader than last time, probably because he had left the door open and the interior light was on. He grabbed a t-shirt and a bottle of water and locked the doors.

He had a lot of time to think while he walked and there were two things that weighed on his mind. The first was who was the dead man and why was he there alone without a sign of a car or even a surfboard. The board could have been attached to the leg which was missing. But that didn’t explain how he got there, or how he died.

The other problem on his mind was the Police. In a small town like this, everyone knew everyone, and he knew some people better than others. There were only two cops at the local station and he’d had had run-ins with both of them. But the worst was the Sergeant.

It was a year ago when he was down at the pub having a quiet afternoon drink that he’d met Leanne. She was pretty and friendly and had been chatting to his mate Smithy. When Smithy had to leave, she’d turned her attention to him. Leanne was new to the small coastal community and was getting a bit lonely, hence her Sunday afternoon at the pub. After a few quiet drinks their conversation had flowed and they discovered a lot of common ground, especially a love of the ocean. It was probably the alcohol, or maybe they just hit it off, but they’d ended up back at his place having sex until the early hours of the morning. It was then that the bombshell came. She said she had to leave to be home in time for her husband coming home from work. Her husband turned out to be the new Police sergeant. The shit hit the fan a short time later and he found himself in the middle of a marriage split. A few months later Leanne moved in with him.

Smithy laughed at his stupidity and called him an idiot for not realising that Leanne was out for it that night. It didn’t matter how it started because his relationship with Leanne had blossomed at the same rate as the trouble with the police began.

His house was raided on suspicion of drugs four weeks after the affair began. He’d kicked himself for breaking his own golden rule and leaving some stuff in the pot above the stove. Luckily it was a small amount, and it was his first offence. He escaped with a fine.

Next was a ticket for un-roadworthy on his van. Okay, it had a bit of rust in the tailgate, but it was hardly un-roadworthy. He always kept it mechanically sound and made sure the tyres where in good nick. The Sergeant had continued a steady stream of niggling ‘incidents’ that left no doubt that he was a not going to let things slide.

The other cop in town was a former school friend Darren ‘birdie’ Finch. He’d grown up just a few doors down the road and they’d spent many summers hanging out and surfing together. Their relationship had soured after Darren had completed his Police training. His so called ‘friend’ had come back to town like an avenging angel and decided that he was going to clean up the underground drug scene. This disgusted everyone because they had all shared a few nights on the grog and weed with him. Instead of tidying up the town, he ended up alienating himself from his roots. People said he would arrest his own mother to further himself.

Sweat was running down his back now, making his t-shirt cling to him like a second skin. He walked at a fast pace, constantly listening out for a car coming down the track and occasionally looking at the phone. He told himself that he would dive into the bushes if a car came by that he didn’t recognise. Paradoxically, he realised that if the surf had been a good size then it was possible that someone he knew may come charging down the road looking for some waves. He reached the end of the track and headed down the fire road that joined the highway near the servo.

The sound of a car coming up behind him was more of a problem than a relief. He was going through thousand scenarios in his head as the sound came closer. Thankfully he recognized the car immediately. The battered old Sigma wagon belonged to Paul ‘Aussie’ White. It pulled to a stop beside him.

“G’day Waz” Aussie said. A cloud of ‘roll your own’ smoke drifted out of the car, “need a lift?”

“Yeah, thanks mate, the battery died on the old van down at Seaweeds”

“Spew’n. D’yer wanna go an jump start her?”

“Nah, if you drop me at the servo, I’ll buy a battery and ring me missus to come and get me”

“No worries. Any waves down at Seaweeds?

“Na, Its pretty small” He lied.

Aussie was a born and bred local. He’d left school early and never went back. He lived with his mum in an old house south of town near Grays Head. He was a hard charger and surfed with a smooth old school style. Grays Head overlooked a bombora that only became surfable above four feet and really turned on over six. The story goes that Aussie had surfed every surfable session there for the best part of fifteen years.

The old weatherboard house had once been a farm and fishing shack for his father, who’d died in a boating accident when Aussie was young. Aussie had never worked a real job in his life. He spent his days fishing, surfing and tending his veggie garden, which was his only source of income.

“What you been up to Aussie?” He asked.

“Mate, I just been down to the campground at Stingray Creek for a coupla days, fishing ‘n’ stuff. I found some old chook ta shag down there”

“Haha, ya mad bugger. Is that a new board in the back?”

“Yea, she’s a pretty grateful chick, she looks after me real well”

What anyone would find attractive about Aussie was beyond him, but the board in the back looked pretty sweet. It had a big city style paint job and glassed in fins sat between a sweet swallowtail.

The old Sigma chugged into the servo driveway and Warren climbed out. He had another look in the back and noticed the new fishing rod and a shiny new tackle box. Aussie followed his gaze.

“She’s a great root too, ay”

Warren grinned “There’s no doubt about you mate”

“Catch ya later Waz” Aussie said as he gunned the car out of the servo and back towards town.

He watched the car disappear around the bend with his mind was full of questions. He’d known Aussie for years but they had never really been mates. Aussie loved a big night out and usually ended up picking a brawl with some unfortunate tourist. He was a pretty intimidating character, solidly built and covered in tattoos that looked all the more daunting against his dark part koori skin. Mind you he was generally easy going when he was sober, except when he was out in the surf. Nobody dropped in on Aussie, especially at Gray’s Bommie. As far as Warren knew, Aussie had never had a steady girl and usually didn’t give a rats who he went home with. His latest exploits were no surprise.

He took the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen; finally the signal bar was full. He frowned at the irony and went into the servo.

“Hi Waz” the girl behind the counter said.

“Hi Sharon, you got a phone book?”

“Yeah” She said, reaching under the counter.

He looked up the local police station number.

“Do you want to use the phone?” Sharon asked.

“Nah, its cool I’ll use my mobile”

“Why do you need the police?” She asked, looking over his shoulder.

For a moment he froze, what was he going to say? “I just want to let em know my cars’ stuck down at Seaweeds, in case someone finds it before I get back.”

“Do you want me to get Dad to tow it back here for you?”

“Nah, I’ll just need to buy a battery and she’ll be sweet, Ill get Leanne to run me back down.”

“While you’re on the phone, you might tell em about that.” she said, pointing to a silver grey Porsche Cayenne 4wd that was parked in the picnic area next to the lookout. “It’s been sitting there for a coupla days.”

“Nice” he said “Do’ya think it’s been dumped?”

“Dunno. It was there when we opened up on Tuesday morning and nobody’s been near it since.”

“I’ll let em know.”

He walked outside and went over to check out the car. He had never seen a Porsche Cayenne. There was some camping gear and a couple of designer travel bags in the back. None of it looked like it had ever been used. He tried the driver’s side door; it was locked. There was nothing in the front, just a map of the local area on the front passenger seat. He sat down on a bench and looked at the Porsche. Could it belong to his dead friend? If it did, how come it’s up here and not down at the beach? He shrugged his shoulders, what the hell; it was a matter for the police now.

His heart was racing as he dialed the number.

“Henderson police, Constable Finch speaking”

“G’day Darren, its Warren Dickson here”

“What can I do for you Warren?” The tone on the line was icy.

“Mate, I went for a surf this morning at Seaweeds and I found a dead body on the beach”

The line was silent for a moment. “Is it anybody we know?”

“No”

“Where are you now?”

“At the servo on the highway”

“Okay, we are on our way”

He hung up and called Leanne.

“What’s the matter? Where are you?” She said.

Strange how women always seem to know when there’s trouble. “My vans got a flat battery down at Seaweeds; can you come up to the servo and pick me up?”

“Why don’t you get the mechanic to run you down? It’s only a few minutes away.”

“Just come and get me okay, I’m not in the mood for stuffing around” He seethed.

“Jeez, calm down, I’ll come after I finish at the Hairdressers.”

Friggin women, “I’ll be waiting”

The Police car arrived pretty soon after he hung up the phone. They must have made the trip in record time. The sergeant leaned out the window. “Get in” He said.

“You don’t need me. Just go down there and walk along the creek, you can’t miss it.”

The Sergeant got out of the car “Get in the car Mr. Dickson” he said.

Warren hesitated for a moment and then climbed into the back seat. The cop got back in and closed the window. “You had better tell us what you saw.” he said.

Warren told them everything as they drove back to Seaweeds, except about his encounter with Aussie. They parked the car next to his van and he led them down to where the body lay. As they cleared the trees it came into view, laying exactly as he’d left it, much to his relief.

“You say you moved it?” the Sergeant asked.

“It was down there,” he motioned “the tide would have covered it by now if I hadn’t”

“Your fingerprints are gonna be all over it”

“I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, well forensics and a couple of detectives are on their way from Wendell,”

“Can I go?”

“Go where?”

“I’ve asked Leanne to come and pick me up”

There was an almost imperceptible flinch in the Sergeants eyes at the mention of his ex-wife’s name. “I think you had better hang around here until the D’s have talked to you.”

“I just want to get my van fixed and go home. If they want me they can find me there.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not, I’m not a suspect.”

“We have a dead body with you’re fingerprints all over it.” The police sergeant said.

The two men stared at each other for a moment “You can’t pin this on me.” Warren said.

“You should stay here until the detectives arrive and give them a statement.”

Warren was about to walk away, but stopped. “It’s not my fault what happened between you and Leanne” He said.

“I know.” The cop said. There was a long awkward moment, then his voice softened slightly. “I’d appreciate it if you would hang around.”

Warren turned and walked off.

He was stuck at Seaweeds for two hours waiting to give his statement to the Police. Then came the news that his van was being impounded so it could be checked over by the forensic crew. His crappy day was getting worse.

The dusty parking area filled with police cars and vans. Plain-clothes officers were working together with uniformed police as they swept the area for clues. Warren was sitting on a fallen tree looking at the waves as they peeled across the sandbar. A loud shout interrupted the scene. It only took him a moment to realize what it was; Leanne had arrived. The cops had stopped her and told her not to get out of the car. He ran back to the car park and reassured the police that it was okay.

Leanne had been married to a policeman long enough to know when to follow instructions. Never the less, her demeanor was more of anger than curiosity. “What have you done, why are all these cops here?” She said.

He climbed into the passenger seat. “I didn’t do anything; I just found a dead body on the beach.”

Leanne looked at him, staring intently into his eyes. Then she nodded to herself, “We’d better get out of here” she said.

Chapter two

The following morning he woke from fretful sleep to be confronted by Leanne walking naked around the bedroom.

“So, you finally woke up” she said sarcastically.

“I don’t think I got to sleep till 4ish.”

“I don’t know what you’re worried about. I don’t think they have any reason to make you a suspect.”

“I know, but I’m not exactly their favorite person.”

“Pete may be a lousy husband, but he’s not a bad cop. He won’t draw any conclusions, besides; it’s a problem for the homicide squad, not the local Police.”

Warren looked at her standing in the doorway. She was a beautiful woman by any standards and he wondered what had drawn her to the burly police sergeant. There were many questions about her past that remained unanswered. He climbed out of bed and she walked over to him, sliding her arms around his neck.

“Don’t worry, he’s not going to get me back” she said.

“I know, I’m not worried about that. I’m more concerned about the fact that somebody has been murdered in this little town. It’s not something that you imagine would happen around here.”

She kissed him lightly and then turned and walked over to the dresser to apply her make-up. He didn’t realise he was staring, but she smirked in the mirror. “Are you going to get dressed?”

“You started something” he said, walking towards her.

“I don’t have time for that, you are going to have to wait until I get home this afternoon.”

He was just about to try and persuade her differently when the phone rang.

“Hello... Yep………no worries see ya soon.”

“Who was it?”

“Smithy. He got the contract to do the extensions to the pub, which means we’ve got work for the next six months at least.”

“That’s great news”

“Yeah, let’s celebrate.” He said, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“Warren! Don’t, I’ve just done my hair.”

Again he was interrupted by the phone ringing. Reluctantly Warren picked it up. “Hello?”

“Sergeant Lewis here Warren. You can pick up your van this afternoon.”

“Good, thanks, I’ll get Smithy to drop me down after work” he replied.

“You’ll need to sign the statement that you made yesterday while you’re here.”

“No worries.”

“And Warren.” Lewis said “It might be a good idea to keep it under your hat for now.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll see you this afternoon.” He put the phone down and turned back to Leanne “I can’t believe that.”

“Was that Peter?”

“Yeah. I guess I may as well give up on sex. Even you’re ex is cramping my style.”

“What style Mr. Groper” She laughed.

He shrugged and dragged on a pair of shorts.

“Aren’t you going to wear any underwear?” She said.

“My name is not Mr. Groper, its Captain Commando!”

“Ha-ha, I hope you aren’t going up any ladders today.” She laughed.

Leanne’s new job as a salesperson at the Real Estate agency was great. It had allowed them to move into the nice unit that looked over the park towards town beach. It was certainly more salubrious than his room over the Chinese restaurant.

Smithy arrived at the front door just as Leanne was leaving. “Did you hear the news this morning; they found a body on Seaweed’s beach.”

Leanne grinned, “Ask Captain Commando about it” she said as she brushed past.

“Captain Commando?” Smithy called after her. Leanne ignored him and kept walking.

Smithy looked back at Warren quizzically.

“I found him yesterday morning when I went for a surf” Warren said.

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Who was it?”

“Dunno.”

“Fark Waz! Did it look like a murder?”

“Shit Smithy, I don’t know mate, I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“Bullcrap mate, its all aver the radio, and it was on the telly this morning. You may as well tell me all about it.”

“The cops have asked me to keep it quiet, so I’ll have to ask you to not tell anyone else.”

Later that afternoon Warren was dropped at the Police station to pick up his van. Smithy thought it was a great joke that the cops had given his van a free tow back to town. But Warren was shitted off to see his board and gear covered in the black forensic dust. After signing all the paperwork he spent half an hour fitting his new battery into place. The old girl started first turn of the key.

As he was pulling out of the holding lot he noticed the Porsche Cayenne parked in the garage area. It too had been dusted for fingerprints. The hair on his neck suddenly prickled as the realisation hit that his fingerprints were on the front door handle. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Resignedly he threw the van into reverse and pulled back into the carpark. He walked back into the station. “I forgot something.” he said as Constable Finch looked up.

“Something important?” He said.

“Maybe. I tried the drivers’ side door on the Porsche while I was waiting at the servo”

“Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, I was just curious I think.”

The cop turned and called out. “Sarge”

Sergeant Peter Lewis stuck his head out of the doorway behind him. “Ah Warren, I’m glad you came back, we’ve got some more questions for you. Come on through.” He motioned to the handle-less door on the right of the counter. The Constable unlocked the door from the inside and Warren walked through and into the interview room.

Inside there was another man sitting at the table. He stood as Warren walked in. “Hello Warren, I’m Detective Philip Hall.”

“G’day” warren said. The Detective looked down at some papers on the table in front of him. He seemed to take an interminable amount of time to examine them. He made a note on the top of the page before sitting back down. He looked up at Warren. “Mr. Dickson, it says here that your fingerprints are on the driver’s door of the Porsche Cayenne 4WD that was found in the parking lot of the Oceanview Service Station.” He paused for a moment, then “Do you have an explanation for that?”

“I was just having a look inside. I’m not quite sure why I tried the door, I just did. I’m prepared to make a statement to that effect.”

The Detective glanced across at the sergeant then back at Warren. He seemed to be weighing the situation up. “We have traced the owner of that vehicle. It belongs to a Sydney property developer by the name of Dieter Bandenhouser. Mr. Bandenhouser was on a surfing and fishing holiday before his untimely demise.”

The detective watched Warren closely, looking for some kind of reaction.

“Is that the person I found down the beach?” Warren asked.

Hall consulted his notes before looking up. He ignored Warren’s question. “Tell me Mr. Dickson, did you see a surfboard or fishing rod in the back of the Porsche?”

“No”

Hall made some additions to his paperwork at Warrens reply then looked at the Sergeant. “Take a statement from Mr. Dickson. After that he can go.” He looked back at Warren. “Thank you Mr. Dickson, you’ve been very helpful.” He handed Warren his card “If you think of anything else, please call me.” He dismissed them both by sitting down and continuing his notes.

Ten minutes later Warren was driving out of the Police station. As soon as he was out of sight, he gunned the van down the road heading for Aussie’s place. He felt like screaming at every other driver on the road to get out of the way. He got stuck at the Bain street intersection when a bunch of kids crossed on their way to the pool.

Surely Aussie wouldn’t kill for a surfboard and a fishing rod, would he? His mind queried. He passed the ugly new housing development with its wall to wall McMansions and perfectly groomed lawns.

His patience was again tested when he came up behind Ma and Pa retiree in a brand new Toyota Prado. They were towing their palace on wheels to the next must see destination. Much to his relief, they turned off at the caravan park at Stinkies Corner. A sign stuck on the back of their caravan read ‘Adventure before Dementure!’. He laughed out loud at the irony. He waited until the behemoth cleared the road then gunned the van up through the gears.

At a hundred kilometers an hour the old van rattled and shook like a dog with worms, a legacy of the badly out of balance front wheel that he hadn’t repaired. Grays head came into view through the trees momentarily as the road curved around the side of the hill. It skirted the old timber mill before running back towards the coast. The tyres howled in protest as he pushed the van through a series of bends.

Warren had never been to Aussie Whites place and he didn’t know anyone who had. The only thing he knew was that it was at the end of a dirt track marked by a broken gate. He slowed down, looking for the big Moreton Bay Fig that overhangs the highway just before the entrance. He saw the hand painted sign ‘Private road, keep out’ it said. He swung the van way too fast into the dirt track and the suspension clunked in protest over the cattle grid.

The track meandered though a copse of trees before opening out into a green paddock. Old grey hardwood fences kept several cows off the track and served as a climbing frame for blackberry bush and lantana. He could see the house up ahead surrounded by two giant gum trees. It was the same colour as the fences and had noticeable lean away from the prevailing winds. It seemed like the old gum trees were the only thing keeping the whole house from falling over. The yard was littered with old car bodies and junk that was home for chickens and dogs. The overgrown vegetable gardens were jammed with weeds, although there seemed to be a healthy crop of corn standing proudly down one side.

He pulled up next to the dilapidated veranda to be greeted by a couple of large dogs who barked and jumped up at the van. An old Koori lady appeared at the screen door. She swore loudly and profusely at the dogs until they settled down. “Yer might want to stay in yer car.” She advised.

He looked down at the dogs then wound the window down. “Hi Mrs. White, my names Warren Dickson. I was wondering if Aussie’s home?”

“He’s down the back having a surf” she said.

Warren just stared at her for a minute. He looked at his watch; it was 5.15pm, it would be dark soon. “Would you mind if I wait?” He asked.

“Please y’self” she said “D’yer want to come in?”

He looked down at the two dogs, “What about them?”

“They won’t hurt yer, unless I yell em too” She said.

Tentatively he opened the door. The dogs started barking and snarling again but were settled by another tirade from Mrs. White. He got out of the van and walked gingerly past them.

“I thought you might have been another one of them fellas in the black suits” she said as she unlocked the screen.

“What fellas in black suits?” he asked.

“They been coming round here trying to buy my land. I jus keep telling em to piss off, but they won’t leave me alone”

Inside, the house was neat and tidy despite being in need of a new coat of paint. The hallway went right through the house. It passed two closed doors, probably bedrooms, then the opened into a kitchen and a small lounge. The back door led onto a screened back veranda. Aussies Mitsubishi Sigma was parked in the old milking shed.

The land behind the house fell away towards the ocean giving an uninterrupted view over a private cove. Despite having lived in this area all his life Warren had no idea the cove existed. In the distance he could make out the shape of Aussie hunched over his board waiting for waves off the southern headland. There wasn’t really much of a beach, just a boulder strewn stretch of sand that kept the waves from eroding the red soiled bank where the paddock ended.

“Mrs. White, this is beautiful” He said.

Her smile was gentle and knowing. “Can I get you a drink?” She asked.

“Just water thanks.”

“I’ve got some beer there.”

“Nah, waters good, thanks anyway.”

“Are you a friend of Paul’s?” she asked from the kitchen.

“We went to school together, and we surf a bit sometimes, especially at Grays Bommie.” He realised that Grays Bommie was just over the headland to the south, probably about a fifteen minute walk.

“Oh yes, he loves his surfing. He jus got a new board you know.”

The dogs started barking outside and Mrs. White cursed again as she walked back up the hall to see what had excited them this time. Warren heard a male voice talking calmly over the ruckus. Mrs. White replied, filling the air with yet another stream of obscenities. Warren tried to ignore the noise, but eventually curiosity dragged him up off the lounge. The old woman stood resolute at the locked fly screen door while the cars occupants did their best to placate the dog’s escalating excitement.

Warren intervened. “Call off the dogs Mrs. White.” He said. She turned and looked at him momentarily, then called to the dogs in her now familiar colourful language. He eased past her and opened the screen. Thankfully the dogs obeyed and calmed themselves. Mrs. White followed him out the door and stood beside him. Two men in dark suits climbed from the black Audi A8 sedan and moved warily towards the steps. The dogs bristled and moved towards them. Mrs. White only had to call out for them to quieten. Warren was pretty impressed by her control.

“Don’t bother getting any closer” She said.

“Mrs. White, we only want to talk to you” The smaller man said. He was slightly built but immaculately dressed, and bore the air of a man well used to being in control. He made no effort to stop at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think Mrs. White has asked you to leave” Warren said.

Now the man stopped, acknowledging Warren for the first time. “And who are you?” He asked.

“It doesn’t matter who I am mate. Mrs. White asked you to leave her property.”

The other man moved now, just a slight turn of the head and shoulders that made little doubt as to his intensions. He was large and broad, and had the face of a man that had seen a tough life. The smaller man held up his hand and the movement stopped. He turned from Warren, dismissing him once again from his conscience. He looked at Mrs. White. “We have made you a very generous offer Mrs. White. Its an offer which will make you an extremely rich person. If you force me to have your land re-zoned, then I can assure you that you will likely receive only a fraction of this amount”

“I don’t want your money, now git from my land or I’ll sik the dogs onto yers” Mrs White said.

The man looked unperturbed “I don’t think you would want to face assault charges Mrs. White. Why don’t we go inside and have a little talk about your options”

His condescending tone was really starting to grate on Warren. He felt it was not his place to interfere, but he did anyway. “I don’t know who you are mate, but around here we don’t go threatening people. Now get in your car and leave or I’m going to call the police and have you arrested for trespassing” He pulled his phone from his pocket.

The man smiled thinly and looked at Warren like he was looking at a child “Well, isn’t that also a threat?” he asked.

Warren flipped the phone open and thumbed the search button. “Its up to you mate” he said, poised over the ‘send’ key. The man stared at him for a few moments. Then he nodded, pursing his lips in deliberation. He looked back at Mrs. White “I’m afraid your friend here has forced me to withdraw my offer and I now intend to pursue this matter through the council.”

With that, he turned and walked back to the car. His burly companion quickly opened the door for him before heading for the other side. He paused and looked at Warren through mirrored sunglasses, as if he was summing him up, then climbed into the car.

They stood and watched the car disappear with the dogs tailing behind. Warren turned to Mrs. White. “I think I’ll have that beer now” he said.

He screwed the cap off his beer and set out down the path towards Aussie’s private break. He took a mouthful of the brew and sighed. What the hell had he done to deserve all this crap in his life?

He stopped at the bottom of the paddock and watched Aussie making his way toward the shore. His movements were assured and uncomplicated, a reflection of his lifestyle.

The two men came together at the top of the worn path. “What the fuck are you doing here” Aussie said. The new board under his arm shone wetly in the orange of the setting sun behind them.

“Mate, you’ve got a problem and I came to warn you” Warren said. He offered Aussie the cold beer he was carrying in his other hand.

“You shouldn’t be here Waz, just leave” He said, dismissing Warrens offer by trying to walk past.

Warren moved in front of him. “Where did you get that board Aussie?”

Aussie stopped. The muscles flexed and bulged on the side of his neck and coal black eyes stared back at warren with cool intensity. “I found it.” he said matter of factly.

Warren lifted up the beer and held it up like a prize “Take the beer mate” he said, “We need to talk.”

Anger rose in Aussies face “I fuckin told you Waz, I found it, now eff off and leave me alone.”

Warren remained calm “Oz, you told me the other day that you got it from some chick you were shaggin down at Stingray.”

“Yeah, well you told me there was no surf at Seaweeds so we’re even.”

Exasperated, Warren thrust the cold beer onto Aussies chest “I found a fuckin dead body down on the beach at Seaweeds Oz. I just wanted you to stay away, now sit down, drink the friggin beer and listen to what I have to say.”

Silence filled the moment, broken only by the sound of waves rolling onto the rocks. “Who was it?” Aussie said eventually.

“I just found out this arvo when I was at the cop shop. It was a Sydney property developer called Dieter Bandenhouser.”

“You’re fuk’n jokin!” Aussie said.

Warren started “Don’t tell me you knew him”

“Yeah. He was gunna buy this place from me. He told me he’d give me a million bucks”. He placed the surfboard carefully onto a patch of grass and took the beer out of Warren’s hand. He twisted the top off and took a long pull. What the fuk am I gunna do now?”

“Tell me how you got the board and the fishing gear Oz, and no bullshit. You may be a prime suspect in that bloke’s murder.”

“Why would I be a suspect in a friggin murder? I didn’t kill no one”

“Just put two and two together mate, the cops will. Especially if they find out that that surfboard and fishing gear belonged to him.”

Warren sat down beside Aussie and stared out to sea. “Tell me what happened mate and I’ll see if I can help.”

They sat in silence sipping their beers until Aussie opened up. “He came up the track last Sat’d. He was drivin that silver forby that was parked up at the Oceanview all week. I wondered why it was up there for so long ay. Anyway, Ma had gone inta town for the bingo, and this bloke seemed friendly and wanted to have a look at the land. You know what I mean Waz?” Warren nodded. “He talked about surfin and stuff, and how he was down here fishin, and how he wanted to buy some land hereabouts ta retire to. He offered me a million bucks Waz, can you imagine a million bucks Waz?.... I can’t.”

Warren nodded, “Life’s not just about money Oz. You have every thing you need right here”

“I know that mate, but me Ma’s been diagnosed with cancer, and she don’t have long to live ay. Who’s gonna look after me then Waz?” His voice cracked at the thought “What am I gonna do around here without me Ma?”

Warren had a lump in his throat that the beer wouldn’t wash away. Aussie sat in silence for several minutes then continued. “He gave me the board and the fishing gear as a ‘sweetner’ he called it. Mate I was so stoked ay, I’ve been surfing that old board for so long. Ma was really pissed off that I took em. But I told her what Mr. Bandenhouser had offered and she just sighed and said something about history and families and stuff. Mr Bandenhouser said I had to let him know when I was ready and he would come and see me and bring all the paperwork and stuff.

“Has anyone else been around making offers like that Oz?’ Warren asked.

“Yeah mate, these two pricks in a black limo have been hassling me and Ma for the past few days, they won’t leave us alone. I told em we’d already accepted Mr. Bandenhouser’s offer, but they kept coming round.” He fell silent again.

Both men had finished their beer and Warren wished he had brought a couple more. Aussie stared at the empty beer bottle in contempt then threw it into the grass. “I suppose I’m gonna have to talk to those blokes now ay” he said.

“This place is worth a lot more then a million bucks Oz. If you talk to the right people you could have far more money than that.”

Aussie looked around at him. “Are you serious?”

“Mate I’ll tell you something. People are willing to pay a million bucks for a house near the beach. Imagine what they will pay for some land with a private beachfront and all within minutes from town. You would be better off keeping it and having someone build a couple of little surf shacks and leasing them out to surf starved city folk. They would pay just about anything for a surf without other surfers in the water.”

Before Aussie could answer him, the dogs started barking again. The two men looked back towards the house. A Police car rolled to a stop alongside one of the gum trees. The dogs were going berserk at yet another intrusion.

“Shit” Aussie said, “I suppose we’d better go see what they want”

“Mate, I think you had better prepare yourself for the worst. I reckon they might be here to talk to you about murder.”

Aussie’s head swung around quickly “What the fuck for? I didn’t do nuthin!”

“Mate, I rekon those guys that were here earlier in the black Audi have told the Police that you have Dieter Bandenhouser’s surfboard.”

“He fuckin gave it to me man! I didn’t have to kill him for it.” Aussie pleaded.

“We had better get up there before the dogs tear the police car apart or the cops come out with guns and shoot them”

Then Aussie was up, he grabbed the board and sprinted up the path towards the house. Warren jumped up and ran after him. Aussie called to the dogs and they responded immediately, ceasing their campaign at the door of the police car and running up to him. He dropped the board and grabbed them both by the collar.

Warren caught up. “It’s all right mate. I don’t really think they’re going to shoot your dogs, it just kind of came out of me.” He said.

Aussie patted the dogs and talked to them quietly.

Warren put his hand on Aussies shoulder “Come on mate, lets sort this out.”

Detective Hall got out of the passenger side door of the police car and walked towards them. Sergeant Lewis went the other way and intercepted Mrs. White, who was coming down the back steps yelling expletives at the police. Aussie called to her, “Pipe down Ma, I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

Detective Hall stood in front of Aussie. “Are you Paul White? He asked.

“Yep.” Aussie replied.

“I’m Detective Hall from the Homicide squad. I believe you might be able to help us in our enquiries into the death of Mr. Dieter Bandenhouser.”

“I fucken doubt it mate.” Aussie replied.

The detective remained calm. “We would like you to accompany us to the Henderson police station to make a statement.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at all, but as you are in possession of some of Mr. Bandenhouser’s belongings, I think you might be able to help.”

Warren intervened before Aussie could reply. “I’m heading back to town now detective; I can drop Aussie at the station if you like”

The detective looked at Warren. “It’s very interesting to find you here Mr. Dickson”

Warren’s eyes narrowed. “Aussie told me that Mr. Bandenhouser gave him the surfboard and fishing gear as a sweetener in a real estate deal.”

This comment caused the detective to look sharply at Sergeant Lewis. The two men shared a knowing look, then Detective Hall reached into his jacket pocket and took out his notebook. He wrote a few lines before looked back at Warren.

“Mr. Dickson, I’m not sure of your position in all this, but I would engage a lawyer if I where you.”

Warren thought for a moment. “How did you find out that Aussie had that fishing gear and surfboard detective?”

Hall didn’t reply, he simply stared at Warren. Warren could feel his gaze going through him like a steel blade.

Aussie broke the deadlock. “If I ain’t under arrest, then I’ll get a lift with Waz” he said.

It was like an elastic band had snapped. Hall suddenly turned on his heal and walked back to the car. Warren looked questioningly at Lewis, who looked back with a questioning frown. The detective called, “Sergeant.”

They drove away in a cloud of dust, trailed by the now loose dogs.

Mrs. White came out into the yard, she handed them both a cold beer. Considering how dry Warren’s throat was, it was one of the best beers he’d ever had.

Chapter Three

He rang Leanne from the Police station after he’d dropped Aussie off. She told him she’d booked a table at a nice restaurant to celebrate his six month worth of work. In truth, he just wanted to go to the pub and write himself off.

It was dark when he got home and a cool southerly was stinging through the trees.

“How was it?” Leanne said as he walked in.

“How was what? He said.

“Your day, dopey! What did you think I meant”

“Oh,… how long have you got?” he said, heading for the fridge.

She intercepted him on the way. “All my life” she said, sliding her arms around his neck. Their kiss was long and passionate. Warren was surprised how cathartic it was. “I think the cops are gonna finger Aussie for that bloke’s murder” he said as they drew apart.

“Fair Dinkum?... Oh, but you don’t think he did it do you.” She said, raising one eyebrow.

“Nah. I think he’s been set up, just like in one of those cop shows.”

“So its Detective Dickson now is it” She giggled.

“No, I’m serious. I am really worried about him and his mum. They own a great piece of coast down near Grays Head, and I reckon somebody is trying to get it off them.”

Leanne suddenly pushed him away, holding him at arms length. “Grays Head?” She said.

“Yeah, well just this side. It’s an awesome piece of land. It even has it own private surf break out the back.”

Leanne walked over to her briefcase and came back with a sheath of papers. “You’d better have a look at this then.” she said.

Warren took the papers and rifled through them without really looking, “What are these?” he asked.

“It’s a development proposal……for an area of land near Grays head.”

Warren’s eyes widened. “Holy crap! You mean somebody’s already bought it?”

“No, it’s a proposal. Somebody has just set the ball rolling.”

“How long have you had this?”

“A week or so.”

“What’s the name on it?”

Leanne took the papers back off him and flicked through them. “Regan Developments.” She said.

“Never heard of em.” Warren said. “Who’s the owner?”

“It doesn’t say, but we can Google the company.”

Their search revealed a professional website which showcased many corporate and commercial interests. But there was no mention of the owners or directors. Warren wanted to spend more time looking, but Leanne reminded him of their date at the restaurant.

Leanne took forever to get ready and Warren flicked on the TV while he waited.

“Police have revealed the identity of the male person found dead on a south coast beach today. He was well known Sydney identity and real estate tycoon Dieter Bandenhouser. Police have revealed that Mr. Bandenhouser was on a holiday when he disappeared, and they are asking the public for information regarding Mr. Bandenhouser’s movements. They have also released a photograph of a Porsche Cayenne 4WD similar to the one being driven by Mr. Bandenhouser when he disappeared.”

Leanne walked into the lounge “How do I look” She said.

Warren looked around momentarily. “Great” he said, not really seeing her. His attention went back to the TV. They were showing helicopter footage of Seaweeds being combed by the police. “Shit.” he said.

Leanne sat down on the lounge beside him. “What?” she said.

“That’s my van down there. That means every bugger in town is going to know that it was me that found the body.”

They watched in disgust as a reporter tried to get an interview with Bandenhouser’s distraught family. The station then ran a profile of Bandenhouser’s life. From the time he emigrated from Germany with his parents, to his climb up the rich list and his marriage to a well known socialite.

The station moved to a different story and Warren flicked off the TV. “That was pretty amazing, I just switched it on and they were doing that story on the murder”

“So you’re convinced it’s a murder then?” Leanne asked.

Warren hadn’t considered that response, and looked at her blankly. “Judging by the state he was in, I’d say he was murdered, but then I’m not a cop or a forensic scientist.”

Leanne laughed “CSI Henderson staring Warren Dickson as the private eye with all the answers”

“Yeah… funny”

The restaurant was busy when they arrived and it was lucky Leanne had managed to book a nice table with a view over the ocean below. Warren finally noticed what she was wearing as she snaked towards their table in front of him. “You look really nice” He said.

Leanne looked over her shoulder at him. “You noticed” she said.

“Sorry, I have a lot of crap in my head at the moment.”

She reached the table and sat down. “Now you know why I left Peter. I got sick of him not being home, and when he did, he would bring all the police work home with him.”

“I didn’t ask to find that body you know.”

She sighed, “I know Waz, and especially seeing as it involves your friend.”

A waiter came over and placed a beer down on the table. Warren looked up in surprise. “What’s this?” He said.

The waiter motioned across the room, “Its compliments of the gentleman at table seven.”

They turned and looked at the man smiling like a lizard back at them. It was slimy little person that Warren had argued with at Aussie’s place.

Warren was suddenly angry “No fucking way.” he said. He got up and walked across the room and banged the beer down on the table. It sloshed wetly onto the clean white table cloth. Other customers were looking in their direction, but Warren’s anger was all consuming. “You can stick this mate, I don’t want any of your charity.” He said.

The mans smile never wavered, “No need to make a fuss Warren, I was only offering an olive branch.”

Warren looked back nonplussed “How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you, and your lovely girlfriend Leanne. Why don’t you sit down and we can get to know each other. I think we could have a very beneficial relationship.”

Leanne walked up and grabbed Warren on the arm. “Come on Waz, let’s get out of here.” She said.

Warren looked around at her and back at the man “Who are you?” He said.

The man stood up and thrust out his hand. “Curtis Chessels” he said.

Warren grabbed the outstretched hand and squeezed it in grip that was fashioned by years of work as a carpenter. Now the smarmy grin faded from Chessels face. Warren could feel the bones chafing and creaking under his unrelenting grip. He slowly pulled Chessels closer to him. “No need for us to leave Leanne, my friend Curtis here was just going.” he said, squeezing the limp hand a little harder. The smile may have faded from his face, but Chessels was not a man to be dictated to.

“If you damage my hand Mr. Dickson, I will sue you for everything you have.”

Now it was Warrens turn to smile. “You’ll get four fifths of f’all out of me mate.” he said. He loosened his grip and Chessels quickly pulled his hand away.

Chessels sat back down in his chair and gathered himself then looked up. “In case you haven’t heard Mr. Dickson, your friend Paul White has been arrested for the murder of Dieter Bandenhouser”

“Since when.”

“I just heard a news flash when I was driving over here, and they said they had arrested a local man and charged him with murder”

Warren felt Leanne slide her hand into his, reassuring him. He stared at Chessels for a long time. Chessels looked away, sipping on a glass of red wine.

“You don’t know it was Aussie. It could have been anyone.” Warren said.

“Oh, I think we all know who did it Warren, I’m just not sure why you are trying to protect him.” The sickly smile had returned to Chessels face.

“Why are you so interested in this case Chessels? Perhaps the police had better start looking into your dealings with Aussie and his mum. I’m pretty sure that threatening old ladies is not part of the legal process when you are trying to buy land for re-development.”

Chessels turned and looked back up at Warren “I am not the kind of person to harm people, and I am certainly not doing anything illegal.” He replied.

Warren leaned closer and spoke quietly “Maybe not, but what about your big ugly offsider. He doesn‘t look like he would baulk at getting rid of a rival in a real estate deal worth millions.”

There was a slight flinch in Chessels’ demeanor. Then the lizard smile got wider and Chessels voice got lower, mimicking Warrens. “You watch too many TV cop shows Mr. Dickson.” He said.

Leanne intervened, pulling on Warren’s hand. “Come on Waz, I’m not staying here any longer. We’ll eat somewhere else.”

Warren had never felt like hitting someone more in his life, but he let Leanne pull him away towards the door. Other patrons watched them leave, talking in hushed tones as they walked out.

Outside the southerly wind lashed at them and Warren’s surfer heart new there was going to be waves in the morning. Ironically, he knew that Grays Bombie would be going off and Aussie was finally going to miss a surf session there.

Leanne dragged him down the main street until she found a little restaurant she was happy with. Warren walked in a daze, and was content just to be taken wherever. She led him to a little booth in a quiet corner. She sat him down and went over to the little bar and bought them both a drink.

He took a long pull on his beer. “He’s right you know. I should just pull my head in and butt out of the situation.” Warren said.

“Crap. Aussies your mate, and you should make every effort to help him. You didn’t fall for all that garbage Chessels was saying did you?”

“He’s made me think about it all. The cops wouldn’t charge Aussie without evidence, so they must have found something that I don’t know about.”

Leanne reached out and put her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Do you think he’s innocent Waz?” she said.

“I don’t know, I’ve known him all my life Lee, but I can’t see any reason he’d kill somebody. Sure he likes a bit of a rumble occasionally, and he’s had a couple of drug arrests, but I’m pretty sure he’s no killer.”

“Then we should try and find out what’s going on. But tonight we are going to have a nice meal and few drinks and just be together.” She said.

“Yeah, you’re right …cheers” He said, clinking her glass with his bottle.

Warren woke up early the next morning to the roar of the waves crashing onto town beach. He slid quietly out of bed, dressed quickly and slipped out of the front door.

He drove down to towns and had a look at the waves through the murky early light. It was about four foot and pretty much closing out right along the beach. Several bodyboarders were preparing to take the shorey on. He swung out of the carpark and headed south.

The wind had calmed down overnight leaving the black/grey ocean oily smooth. The leaden skies threatened to rain on the long lines of swell sweeping in from the horizon. Warren watched from the empty carpark at Grays Head as a righthander jumped up off the suck rock and peeled perfectly down the shelf before emptying into deep water. He picked up his phone and typed in a message to Smithy. Grays bommie going off. Nobody here. He didn’t wait for a reply.

The new 6’1” he’d waxed up at Seaweeds was’nt going to get a run today; in fact it was still covered in forensic dust. Warren knew that the swell was going to jump overnight so he’d had grabbed his trusty 6’4” pintail from the rack. He estimated the waves at six foot with a few bigger ones on the sets. The Bombie was well known as a swell magnet and he was in no doubt the waves would get bigger as the day wore on. A car pulled up alongside him as he was struggling into his steamer. Smithy stuck his head out of the window. “Thanks for the message, but I was already on my way.” He said.

“No worries, better hurry up it’s gonna get crowded out there.” Warren said.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same without Aussie in the lineup.” Smithy said. “ I heard about him on the radio an the way here.”

Warren had been trying to forget about the whole scenario “Yeah, we can make this as a tribute to him.” He picked up his board, “See you out there.” He turned and trotted down the track.

He tried to time the shorey as best he could but copped a couple on the head anyway. It was a good hundred and fifty meters to the take off point. Thankfully most of it was in deep water and he was able to avoid the breaking waves by paddling wide. He angled across the back and positioned himself behind the takeoff and waited for the next set. He didn’t have to wait long. He checked his position and then made a couple of stokes inside. The wave hit the suck rock and jacked up under him. He was ready and put in a couple of quick strokes as he slid onto the face. The wave that greeted him was breaking as fast and clean as it gets. Suddenly his mind cleared and instinct took over. The trouble and stress of the last few days was obliterated as he attacked the face. He jammed a massive bottom turn and drove up the face exploding off the top using every ounce of power in his body. The top of the wave disappeared in a cloud of spray and he plummeted back down the rushing face. All the bottled up emotion was released into his movements as he carried his speed along the wall. The lip began to crumble and he pivoted towards it running a floater above it until he was above the clean face again. He dropped down and lay into a fast roundhouse, cutting back toward the freightrain lip. He gouged back off the foam and back in front of the foamball. He raced it until the wave fattened up and dissipated into deep water.

Smithy had watched the whole thing unfold and caught up to Warren as he settled back behind the takeoff point. “Fark mate! I’ve never seen you surf with so much aggression.” He said.

Warren managed a little smile. “Funny how your surfing reflects your mood” He replied.

“Stay angry mate, you’re ripping.”

That was for you Aussie, Warren thought.

The two men shared waves for half an hour before the carpark began to fill and other surfers paddled out. The suck rock is the only takeoff point, and within an hour the bommie was maxed out. Warren decided that one more wave would do. He was mellower now and couldn’t be bothered with the hustling. As he peeled off the end of his last wave there was a call from a surfer who was paddling out.

“Mate there’s a chick up there called Leanne waiting for you.” He said.

“Yeah, thanks mate; I’m just on my way.”

Leanne was sitting in her car listening to the radio when Warren walked up. “It’s not like you to come and watch me surf.” He said.

“As if I came all the way out here to watch you, especially at this hour in the morning.” she said. “I Googled Curtis Chessels when I woke up this morning and guess what I found?”

Warren shrugged. “What?” he said.

“Constable Darren Finch is Curtis Chessels’ nephew.”

Warren took a few moments to digest the information. “Well that explains a lot of things doesn’t it. No wonder Chessels knew what was going on all the time.”

“That’s not all. Dieter Bandenhouser and Curtis Chessels used to be partners in a development company that went broke in the nineties. Apparently they blamed each other for the collapse and they are now fierce rivals.”

Warren nodded, “That is interesting. See, now your playing the detective too, you can’t help yourself.”

“Yeah I know, I woke up with Chessels mocking smile in my head and I just wanted to exorcise him.”

“What do we do now?” He wondered.

“Why don’t you see if we can get Aussie out on bail?”

“Yeah I’ll go down there after breakfast.”

He never made it to the police station after breakfast. Sergeant Peter Lewis was waiting out the front of their unit dressed in civilian clothes. Warren and Leanne went into the house through the door from the garage. “What does he want?” Leanne said as they moved inside.

“I dunno, maybe he’s here to ask you to come home.”

“Fat chance.” She said.

Lewis knocked on the front door as they where walking into the kitchen. Warren opened the door, wary of Lewis’s motives.

“Mind if I come in and talk to you for a few minutes?” Lewis said. He seemed overly nervous and looked furtively over his shoulder as he stepped inside.

“What’s this about?” Warren asked.

“Shut the door” Lewis ordered.

“Are you okay?” Leanne said, coming up beside Warren.

Warren shut the door.

Lewis looked relieved. “It’s about your mate Paul White. I think he’s been framed for murder” Lewis said.

They both stared at him. “Jeez Pete, you’re the frigging policeman, why are telling us this shit. You should be telling Detective Hall” warren said.

Lewis looked at him. “I would, but I think its Hall who’s doing the framing”

There was nothing to say, they simply looked at him in disbelief.

“You’d better sit down” Leanne said, “I’ll make some coffee.”

Lewis made his way to the lounge. Warren sat down opposite, “Are you okay mate?” he said.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Nah, actually I think I’m going nuts.”

“What’s going on?”

“You know they arrested your friend Paul White?” he said to Warren.

“Yeah, I found out last night.”

“I was off duty when they brought him in so I didn’t know he was there until I went in for night shift. And there he was, asleep in the cell. I had a look at the ledger to see what was going on. The ledger said that Bandenhouser’s credit card had been found in Paul White’s wallet.”

“Holy shit.” Warren interjected.

Lewis looked up from the patch of floor he’d been staring at as he told his story. “Only problem is Warren,” he said “is that I know for a fact that Bandenhouser’s credit card was on the list of items found in the glovebox of his car by the forensic boys. And I know this because I was the one who entered the list into the computer.”

Warren couldn’t speak. He just sat staring at Lewis with an empty feeling of dread coursing through his veins.

“Not only that, but when I checked the list again it wasn’t there” Lewis continued.

Leanne set two cups of coffee down on the table. “I bet it was that jerk Finch” she said bitterly.

Lewis looked at her questioningly. “Why do you say that?” He asked.

“He’s the nephew of a developer who wants to buy Aussie’s land.”

Lewis put his head into his hands “Jesus fucking Christ.” he said.

Warren and Leanne shared a look of unease. “I was going to try and get Aussie out on bail later on this morning.” Warren said.

Lewis talked into his hands, shaking his head “Forget it mate, that bloke Chessels has already tried to bail him. He’s even paid for a Sydney lawyer to come down here and look after him.”

Warren reacted angrily. “What the fucks he doing that for!”

Leanne walked over and put her arms around him, “Hey settle down Waz” she said.

Lewis looked up at them, “The only person who has the authority over me to get into that file is Detective Hall. That means that he’s gotta be part of this whole thing. I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure out what’s going on and what to do about it.”

“So why’d you come here” Leanne said.

“I dunno. I left work an hour ago and went to go home. I ended up driving all over town. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”

“Come on, I’ll show you this stuff in the internet that I found this morning.” Leanne said, leading them into the spare room.

The computer screen showed a page from the Telegraph showing Curtis Chessels shaking hands with his nephew, the new police graduate Darren Finch. Warren leaned forward. “Look who’s in the background” he said pointing at the screen. There, smiling into the camera was Detective Philip Hall.

A loud knock at the door made Leanne jump and the two men look around sharply. Warren went out and opened the door. It was Smithy.

“Hi Waz, any chance of a coffee” He said.

Warren gathered himself. “Sure mate, come in.”

Smithy walked in and saw Lewis. “How ya going” he said, “Dave Smith.”

“Peter Lewis” the sergeant said, shaking Dave’s hand.

Smithy had no idea of the heaviness of the earlier conversation, but he was no fool. “Are you guys alright? You look like you’ve been to a funeral.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit like that.” Lewis said. “Anyway I was just leaving, I’ll see you around.”

Warren followed him out to his car. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I think I’m just going to go home and try to get some sleep. I go back on duty this afternoon and I might try and get in touch with a guy I know in Wendall. He’s an internal affairs officer. Maybe he’ll be able to shed some light on Hall.”

“So you haven’t worked with him before then?”

“No, he’s from the C.I.D. Sydney.”

“What about this thing with the credit card, what are you going to do about that?”

“I’m going to have a look and see if I can get a copy of the forensic report. There should be a reference to in there. Barring that, I’m not sure. I’ll have to think about it.” He got into his car wound the window down. “I’ll see you later Warren” he said.

Warren watched the car turn the corner at the end of the street before going back inside.

“I get the feeling something is going on that you don’t want me to know about” Smithy said.

“Sorry mate” Warren replied, “Pete and I were discussing the case against Aussie.”

Smithy got up and washed his cup out in the kitchen sink. “No worries. I’ve gotta go and pick up that order of timber anyway, so I’ll get going. I’ll see you up at the pub in about an hour.” He said.

Warren looked at his watch: it was 8:15. “Yeah, cheers mate, see ya later”

Leanne was still sitting at the computer. “So that’s Detective Hall.” She said as Warren walked in. “It just keeps getting more convoluted by the minute doesn’t it.”

“Yeah, it sure does. Have you found anything else?”

“No; at least not in reference to them. But I did find out that Bandenhouser had been trying to sell his business. So maybe his intentions with Aussies farm where true, and he was looking for somewhere to retire to,”

“Have you got any guesses as to who the real murderer is?”

Leanne looked at him. “There seems to be a couple of possibilities as far as I can see. Funnily enough I don’t think Chessels is one of them.”

“Why not?”

“Well, like he said himself, he’s way too respected to get himself involved in murder, or even illegal activities. I doubt he would put everything on the line for that property, no matter how much its worth.”

“Okay, who are your possible suspects?”

“Aussie.”

Warren gaped. “You really don’t think it’s him do you?”

“He has a motive, and some of Bandenhouser‘s belongings. We’ve really only got his word for it that Bandenhouser gave them to him.”

“What about Pete’s story about the credit card?”

“Well again, we don’t have any proof that’s what happened, just Pete’s word.”

“So you’re saying that Pete’s is trying to deflect attention?”

“Mmm…maybe. He may be on my list too if I could think of a motive.”

“Jeez, you’re really thinking about this now aren’t you. What makes you think Pete could do something like this?”

“Oh don’t worry; he has a savage temper sometimes. But I really don’t think he’s done this. Besides, if he did he wouldn’t be coming around here telling us he thinks Aussies been framed would he.”

“Yeah, true. Who’s next?”

“Aussies mum.”

“His mum! Your kidding.”

“No I’m not. Didn’t you tell me that she wasn’t too impressed that Aussie had accepted Bandenhouser’s offer? What if Bandenhouser had turned up at her house and she’d let those dogs loose on him. You said his body was pretty badly mutilated and even had a leg missing.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain how his body got to Seaweeds” Warren said.

“She could have dumped it in the ocean and the currents could have washed it up there. Or she could have told Aussie what happened and he took it there and dumped it. In fact they could have concocted the whole story together just to get Bandenhouser off their backs. You’ve seen how much of a pain in the arse these developers can be.”

Warren was shaking his head “You’re making it sound all very feasible.”

“If I can do that, then the cops could do it too.” Leanne said.

“Okay, have you got anyone else?”

“Not really, I can’t think of anyone else with a motive. What about you?”

“Nah, I’ve got nothing.” He looked at his watch “I’ve got to get going, it’s nearly nine.”

Leanne looked at her own watch “Shit, it is too!” She jumped up. “I’ve got to meet a client at nine.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you this arvo.” She grabbed her bag and disappeared out the front door.

It was a chance encounter that changed the course of Warren’s day. He’d called into the bakery for a couple of pies for breakfast and he ran into Big Gavin. Gavin had just got back into town after his trip to Indo. He raved about the trip and how good the surf had been. He encouraged Warren to save up and go on their next trip later in the year. Warren mentioned the fact that he was probably going to be a witness in Aussies murder trial, so he’d better stay around and be available.

Big Gav pulled Warren aside. “Mate, I knew Aussie was gonna get done one day. I was talking to Finchy just before we left for Indo and he was telling me about the crop of hash they’d found out there on Aussies farm. He reckoned Aussie was gonna get done real bad this time.”

Warren was halfway through a beef and bacon pie and he just stopped chewing. “Finchy told you that?” He said through a mouthful of pastry and meat.

“Yeah, he said that he’d been out to the farm on a police raid.”

“When was that?”

“I dunno, just before we left I think.”

“Jesus” Warren said.

“What?” Big Gav replied.

“Oh nothing mate; just thinking. Listen, I’ll catch you later ay, I’v gotta go to work.”

“Yeah, sure mate. Has there been any surf around while I was away?”

“A bit. Actually it’s worth a trip down to the Bommie this morning before the onshore comes up.” warren said.

“Yeah, I’ll go and check it out. See ya.”

Warren messaged Smithy then drove straight to the police station. The front counter area was empty when he walked in. He stood impatiently and waited until Constable Finch came from out the back.

“Warren?” Finch said as he came into the room.

“Hi Daz. I want to talk to Aussie if I can”

“Sorry mate, he’s on a murder charge. That means its only family that can go in there.”

“Don’t give me that crap Darren. You’ve known me all your life, I just want to see if he’s okay and if he needs anything.” Warren said.

Darren stood erect. “This is a Police station; we have rules and regulations that will be adhered too.” He said.

Warren’s anger welled up. “There is no way you found any stuff growing on that property Darren. Even Aussie is not stupid enough to plant that shit on his own land.”

Darren stared straight at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said.

“Then why did you tell big Gav that you found some stuff growing out there when you were on a drug raid?” Warren fumed.

Constable Finch leaned forward and put his hands on the counter “I think it might be time for you to leave Warren.” he said coolly.

Warren tried to calm down while standing at the counter staring at Finch. He realised it was futile and turned and walked out the door. In the van he messaged Smithy ‘Won’t be there till later, Sorry.’

He drove out to Aussie place as slowly and carefully as he could, especially considering his frame of mind. It was strangely quiet at the farm when he pulled up. He turned off the motor and silence engulfed him. No dog’s barked and no loud obnoxious old woman yelling at them. Cautiously he opened the van door and walked towards the house. He climbed the front steps and knocked on the door. The barking dogs started now, roaring and yelping with the alacrity he’d come to know.

Warren’s heart jumped in relief and the sound of Mrs. White cursing was almost like music to his ears. The curtain of one of the rooms beside the front door moved and Mrs. White’s disheveled head peered at him. She disappeared and he heard her chastising the dogs and unlocking the front door. Warren’s heart melted as she almost fell out the door and put her arms around him and pulled him close. Her embrace belied her years as she sobbed into his chest. For a long time he held he awkwardly while the dogs sat strangely quiet. It was almost as if they understood the situation before them. He reached up and put his hand gently onto the course hair on the back of her head. “Mrs. White, are you okay?”

Mrs. White shuddered at his touch. “What have they done to my boy” she stammered.

Warren was struggling with the unfamiliar situation. He moved his hands to her shoulders and lightly pushed her away. “Mrs. White, I need to talk to you about Aussie. Do you think you can talk?” He asked as soothingly as he could.

Mrs. White seemed to gather herself and moved away slightly. “I’m sorry Warren” she said “I am so afraid and I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s no need to be worried Mrs. White. I just need to know a couple of things and then we will be able to get him out of there.”

Mrs. White turned from him now and made her way towards the back of the house. Warren closed the door and followed her along the dark hall. Mrs. White didn’t stop until she got to the old lounge in the sunroom, almost collapsing onto the cushions. She pulled a tissue from a box on the small table beside the lounge. She dabbed at her eyes and dropped the saturated tissue into an overflowing bin. Warren pulled up a timber chair and resigned himself to the task. His throat was dry with emotion and he stumbled to find words. “Mrs. White, I know Aussie has had a couple of drug arrests in the past, but has he ever been done for cultivating?

“No, he’s always been a bit careful about that. He’s not that stupid that he would let himself get caught growing the stuff.”

“So he wouldn’t grow the stuff here on the farm then?”

“Gawd no. I’d thrash him to an inch of his life if he did that!”

It was the news that Warren wanted to hear. “Did the cops come here a couple of weeks ago and do a search for hash plants.”

“Yeah, it was that young fella er……..Finch...yeah, Constable Finch that was him. He drove up in his cop car and said he had suspicions about a plantation here and said he was gonna have a look around. I just told him to go for his life, we’ve got nothing to hide. Why do you want to know about that Warren, are they gonna push another drug possession on him too?”

Warren stood up and reached forward, putting his hand on Mrs. White shoulder. “Don’t worry” He said, “I’m pretty sure he’ll be out of there soon.”

She responded by starting to weep again and putting her hand on his. “I’ve only known you for a couple of days, but it feels like a lifetime.” She said. “Thank you for caring.” The awkwardness returned for Warren. “It’s okay Mrs. White.”

As she looked at him now her face softened and the tears that had held up at the bottom lid of her weary black eyes spilled down her cheeks. “Please call me Elsie. My name’s Elsie” she said. Warren smiled and gave a shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you Elsie, I would be honored to call you that.” He waited until she gathered herself again and slowly pulled his hand away. “I’ve got to get going now. I’ll come back this afternoon and see if you are okay. We can take my Van into town and visit Aussie and see if there’s anything we can do if you like.”

“I would like that, thanks again warren.”

“No worries.” He said.

He walked slowly up the darkened hallway and let himself out the front door. The two dogs greeted him on the front verandah. He reached down and gave the nearest one a pat on the head. It was a solid bull terrier that was almost as wide as it was tall. It almost grudgingly let Warren pat it, accepting him as an ally if not a friend. The other dog was some kind of mastiff cross and it kept its distance, watching him with a detached air of nonchalance. He headed for the van, turning to say “See you later boys” to the dogs, only realising they could’ve been females after he’d said it.

He turned the van around and headed back up the dusty track towards the copse of trees that shielded the property from the road. He wasn’t going very fast but the impact in the front of the van threw him into the seatbelt with enough force to twist his shoulder. It took a few milliseconds for his brain to assimilate what was going on. The Police car had speared out of a small clearing and angled across the front of the van. It forced a collision that had impacted the front quarter of the car and pushed it into a small tree. Constable Darren Finch climbed out of the police car and pulled his service revolver out of its holster. He rested his hands on the roof of the car and aimed at Warrens head.

“Get out of the van.” he ordered.

Warren’s body was filled with a deep well of fear that enveloped him like a sheath. He stared uncomprehending at the barrel of the gun pointed unwavering towards him.

Finch was getting impatient “I said get out of the car.” He repeated.

Warren fumbled with the keys and turned off the ignition. Robotically he unclipped the seat belt. His eyes wouldn’t look away from the macabre sight of the gun leveled at his head and he had to feel for the door handle. The door opened but then stuck against the buckled front panel. He gave it a hard shove with his shoulder. The metal bent away causing a loud groaning noise to fill the still silence. As he started to climb out he noticed his phone on the floor in the footwell. It must have slid off the seat during the impact. Suddenly his mind cleared and he quickly grabbed the phone and pushed 3 on the speed dial.

“Hurry up!” Finch yelled.

Warren dropped the phone back on the floor and prayed Smithy would realise something was wrong. “Why are you pointing that gun at my head Darren” Warren said loudly, although his voice came out as a coarse rasp.

“Move away from the car.” Finch said.

Warren stepped around the door and back into Finch’s line of fire. Automatically he raised his hands above his head in surrender. Finch lifted the gun and for a terrifying moment Warren thought his life was about to end. Instead, Finch made his way around the back of the stricken police car. He walked towards Warren, stopping only when he was just a metre away. “Put your hands on your head.” He said.

Warren didn’t realise that he was he was shaking until his fingers touched each other and he tried to interlock them. “What are you doing Darren?” He managed to say.

“You are going to stuff up things Warren, and I’m not going to let you do that.”

“What have I done to make you want to kill me” Warren said. His voice sounded alien to him, but he knew his only chance was to keep Finch talking for as long as possible.

Finch stiffened “You think you’ve got it all, don’t you Warren. You are like every other person in this shitty little town. Going to their shitty little jobs and living out their shitty little lives. Well I’m not going to be one of you. I’ve seen the other side Warren. I’ve lived in the lap of luxury and been surrounded by people who live their lives the way they want, not under the control of money and responsibility.”

Warren was incredulous. “Is that what this is about? Fucking money?”

“You have no idea what’s going on mate.”

“Don’t you fucking call me mate.” Warren said.

Finch grabbed the gun with both hands. The end of the barrel trembled as emotion overtook Finch’s grip. “Fucking friends like you I don’t fucking need any more! I am moving on as soon as this deal goes through and you and the rest of this shitty place can go to hell.” He said, teetering on the edge of control.

Warren was trying to deal with situation as best he could and he realised that getting Finch upset was only going to make matters worse. “So you’re the one who killed Bandenhouser then.”

“Of course I killed him. He was gonna fuck up my plans, just like you are trying to do.”

“Tell me about your plans Darren, they sound really interesting.” Warren soothed.

Finch seemed to respond to Warren’s ploy, and his grip on the gun loosened slightly. “This place is a fucking goldmine and I talked my uncle into coming down for a look. But that jerk Bandenhouser stumbled in here and got to Aussie before I could set him up. Did you know that Aussie’s mum was dying?” Finch almost scoffed. “Yeah, that’s right, cancer; the big ‘c’ is killing her. With that old bag out of the way and Aussie in prison I was going to be in the prime position to buy this place real cheap. But Fucking Bandenhouser walked in like a fucking white knight and stole my plan and my future life as a player. Well I wasn’t going to let it happen, not like that. I told Bandenhouser to meet me at the servo in the early morning and we would go for a surf together at Seaweeds. Actually I wasn’t going to kill him at first, but he wouldn’t change his plans even after I shot him in the kneecap.”

Warren could see the gun getting lower and lower as Finch talked. He thought about shuffling closer and trying to take the gun but his legs wouldn’t move. “Is that why the body had one leg missing?”

Finch’s eyes were filled with madness as he recalled the facts. “Haha, I cut his leg off so nobody would be able to find the bullet hole and smashed kneecap. You should have heard him screaming. I nearly shot him in the head to shut him, but then there would have been another bullet hole wouldn’t there. That’s why I shot him through the soft fleshy part of the body. Two shots actually, there’s lots of vital organs in there you know, and I didn’t want to miss any of them. I left him by the shoreline with the waves crashing over him. I’m not sure how long he lay there before he died. Unlike you Warren, because you are going to die quickly from a single gunshot wound to the head.”

Warren’s clasped hands were still shaking and his legs also trembled uncontrollably. He could feel sweat running between his fingers, where it dribbled annoyingly down his forehead. Blood was thudding through his ears like a homeboy’s subwoofer down the main street. “You’re insane.” He heard himself say.

“Maybe I am Warren, but I am going to shoot you and then put the gun in your hand. They will believe me when I tell them that you committed suicide after I confronted you about the murder. People know that it was you that found the body and that there are suspicious circumstances surrounding you. You are going to be a dead accomplice to White’s case. Then I will be free to continue my climb from this shithole into the world of money and luxury like you could never imagine.”

The weight of the gun must have become too much for Finch because he let it drop and dangled it by his side. Warren gave a slight movement towards him. Finch quickly brought the gun back up. “Don’t fucking try that!” he snarled, “I ‘m going to decide when you die, not you.”

Warren’s heart slumped and he almost collapsed. He had to keep Finch talking to give Smithy time to arrive. He didn’t like his chances. “How did Bandenhouser’s credit card get in Aussie’s wallet?” He asked.

Finch laughed “It was never in his wallet. I took it out of the evidence locker and told them I found it in his wallet.”

“Lewis told me it was scrubbed from the forensic list.” Warren said.

This time Finch snorted in disgust. “Fucking Lewis, he wouldn’t know his way around a friggin calculator, never mind a computer. Shit, he couldn’t even keep his wife happy. Lucky you came along and started shaggin her ay. I’m looking forward to killing you even more now because, she’ll be available for me to move in on.”

If Finch had said that to get a reaction from Warren, then it worked. Warren suddenly stopped shaking as a huge well of anger exploded through his body. Without even thinking he lunged for the gun. It was fact that he was right handed that saved his life. As Warren moved, Finch pulled the trigger. Warren didn’t hear the noise of the gun or feel the impact of the bullet as passed through the muscles in his left shoulder. His momentum carried him forward and his right fist crashed into the side of Finch’s head. Finch’s jaw took the full impact of Warren’s fist. A fist that was powered by muscles that had benefited from a lifetime of surfing and manual labour. Warren tried to reach out and grab the gun with his left hand, but somehow the arm wouldn’t respond. It was all happening in slow motion in Warren’s head and he saw Finch falling away from him. His momentum carried him forwards; he stumbled and rolled, tucking his right shoulder under to cushion the impact. He kept his speed as he rolled, and scrabbled back to his feet. He spun around and threw a kick at Finch, but it missed him by millimeters. Finch’s face looked like it had been hit with a cricket bat. But he had the presence of mind to roll away and level the gun back at Warren’s head.

Finch spat out something, probably a tooth, and got unsteadily to his feet. His mouth was split completely up the side and a huge lump was expanding below his left eye. The words that came through the blood and torn flesh of his mouth were almost unintelligible, but his meaning was clear. “You just did me a fucking big favour Dickson. Now I’ve got an excuse to kill you in cold blood.”

Warren lunged again but he didn’t reach Finch this time. Something else hit Finch with such incredible force that it threw him into the side of the police car. The gun discharged and Warren ducked out of sheer instinct. Aussie’s Bull terrier had sprinted from the house on hearing the first gunshot and it hit Finch at full speed. It clamped its incredible jaw around the outstretched arm that held the gun. Finch screamed and the gun dropped to the ground. Warren dived forward and grabbed it then rolled away from the writhing dog and the screaming human. The other dog arrived now and set upon Finch with equal vigour.

Warren stared at the scene with fascinated revulsion. Finch was trying to roll under the car to get away from the attacking animals, but they kept dragging him back out onto the dusty track. The air was filled with screams and growls and dust. Blood was everywhere and it was not all Finch’s. Warren was powerless to stop the dog’s onslaught and he braved a look at his left shoulder. His t’shirt had been torn open and the back was completely flayed. His whole left side was soaked in blood, including his shorts and workboots. A pool of blood was spreading around him as he stood. He realised that he was going to have to try and stop the dogs from killing Finch somehow. He raised the gun in the air and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out through the trees, drowning out the ruckus in front of him. It spooked the dogs and they scattered. He readied himself to shoot one of them if they attacked again. Thankfully he didn’t have to as Mrs. White came along the track with all the speed her old legs could carry her. She screeched at the dogs as they again began to stalk the weeping and shivering Police officer. The dogs came to her side obediently and Warren mercifully lowered the gun.

He was suddenly incredibly tired and coldness crept through his skin and began to filter into his brain. He dropped the gun and fell to his knees. Mrs. White reached him and grabbed him before he fell. Warren collapsed into arms. Her voice seemed like it was a million miles away. H e didn’t hear what she was saying as he embraced the welcoming cold and slipped away.

Consciousness came in waves of pain and congealed memories; barking dog, a breaking wave, a gunshot, voices yelling. An unbearable light and ache coursed throughout his body. Voices, some tender, some concerned. They drifted away. He floated in a sea of red pulsating visions and massive explosions of searing pain that made somebody scream in the distance. He realised it was him when the soothing voices returned. The world was shaking and bouncing now and he rolled from side to side as it tried to toss him like an empty beer can. He felt a pain in his arm and moments later the coldness returned; he gladly embraced it. It coalesced into a white cloud before his eyes, he soared toward it, “Take me, please take me” his mind pleaded.

Beep…beep…beep…The noise entered his head from a long way away. It got louder. It filled his whole world. He wanted it to stop.

“At least its stabilised.” a voice said.

“Yeah, I think he’s going to be okay, although he may need another transfusion later.” Another voice replied.

“What about the head wound, is it going to be a problem?”

“I don’t think so. He’s been lucky with both bullets really. One missed all the bones in his shoulder and the other just grazed his head. It will leave a bit of a scar but his hair should grow over it.”

The voices trailed away and he was left with the annoying beep…beep pressing back into his head. He felt strange, like he was floating in a sea of clouds. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation and he tried to wiggle down deeper into it.

“Nurse!” Somebody called, “He moved, his body moved, like a little squirm”

He heard footsteps getting louder “He’s probably waking up. The morphine should be starting to wear off now.” Another voice said.

”Warren” the first voice said “Warren, can you hear me?”

He felt someone pick up his hand. “Warren?”

He squeezed the hand with all his strength.

“He’s awake! His fingers moved” the voice said excitedly.

He heard somebody groan and realised it was himself trying to speak.

Then someone wrapped their arms around him, it sounded like they were crying. He wanted to stay around to find out why, but he drifted back to the clouds and disappeared back into the abyss.

The beep was there when he woke again, but it seemed somehow more subdued. The clouds had dissipated in his head and he could feel the bed underneath him. Memory returned now and the recollection of events flooded into his mind. His first coherent thought’s concerned his shoulder. Would he recover well enough to surf again? What about work? Questions overtook his thoughts and blocked out the memory of the fight.

He pacified them by experimentally opening his eyes. He was lying in a darkened hospital room. Leanne was asleep in a chair alongside the bed. His left eye didn’t seem to be working and his left side was completely numb. He tried to lift his right arm, but it didn’t seem to respond very well. He tried again and this time was rewarded with his hand rising off the bed. He experimented some more and eventually he was able to reach out and touch Leanne on the arm which was thrown across his stomach. She jumped at his touch, coming wide awake instantly. She sat up and smiled at him, taking his hand in hers. “How’re you feeling” she said quietly.

“Like I’ve just been hit by a truck.” He said, his voice was thick and dry. “Can you get me some water?”

Leanne picked up a small glass and held it to his mouth. He sucked in the water like it was his last beer. “Thanks.”

She put the glass down and stood up, leaning over him she kissed him lightly on the lips. “You scared the shit out of me.” She said.

He managed a little smile “Me too.” he said. “What’s wrong with my eye?”

“Nothing, it’s just the bandaging.”

“Thank god.” He said, relieved. “Did they get Finch?”

“Yeah. Detective Hall turned up with Pete and they have him here in the hospital under police guard.”

“I thought Hall was involved in all this”

“Apparently he was actually watching Finch all along, but he kept getting baulked by Finch’s misdirection and evidence tampering.”

“Finch is insane. He actually cut Bandenhouser’s leg off while he was still alive.”

Leanne said nothing. She sat down again and put her hand in his. “You better stop talking. You’ve got a long recovery ahead of you. You can give the police a full statement later. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze. “I love you.” He said.

Tears filled her eyes and she pulled a damp hanky from her bag and dabbed at them. “Try and get some sleep” she said.

Surprisingly he took her advice and closed his eyes. He drifted away instantly.

Aussie hated hospitals. He hated the smell, the long bland corridors and the busy officious nurses and staff. His discomfort though, was not going to stop him from visiting Warren. The doctors had made him wait a week for this. His mum plodded alongside him, dressed in her Sunday best clothes. Aussie counted the bland doorways as he walked and wondered how anyone could find their way around the maze of corridors. J7 was the room. He stopped and checked his clothes self consciously before stepping into the room. The knot of people around the bed stopped talking and turned to see who the new visitors were.

Warren was grinning like an idiot “Hello Aussie.” he said. Then he saw Elsie step around the corner. He couldn’t speak, his throat tightened up and he felt tears well in his eyes. He held his good arm out too her and she seemed to glide across the room to embrace him. She sobbed on his chest and Warren couldn’t hold the tears back. Nobody moved for a few minutes then Aussie tapped Warren on the shoulder. “I need to shake your hand mate.” He said. Warren stuck out his hand and Aussie gripped it hard “Thanks Warren” he said. Warren smiled. “Could somebody wipe my eyes.” he said. The comment broke the ice and the mood in the room shifted to elation. Elsie stood up smiling and Leanne embraced her and handed her a tissue.

“Mate,” warren said to Aussie, “I don’t know the name of that dog of yours, but when I get out of here I’m gonna buy it the biggest friggen steak that money can buy.”

“Bomber” Aussie said proudly, “His names Bomber.”

Warren laughed “You should change it to Stealth Bomber. Finch certainly didn’t see him coming.”

They all laughed at the comment and conversation flowed. Warren looked at Leanne, who was in deep conversation with Elsie. Smithy and Aussie chatted about the surf and the possibility of some labouring work for Aussie. They also discussed the possibility of getting together and nutting out a plan for a surf camp on part of Aussies land.

In the week since the fight with Finch he’d come to regard these people as family. Detective Hall had visited and had taken a statement. He’d also explained Curtis Chessels’ action in arranging a lawyer for Aussie. Apparently Chessel’s was simply trying to get Aussie on side so he could negotiate a deal for the land. They had found no evidence that Chessel’s was involved in Finch’s scheme. Warren would like to be on an investigating team to check on that.

“I wonder if I’ve found my true calling.” He thought “Warren Dickson…Private eye!” He smiled to himself at the irony. The morphine must be getting to him. It was; he drifted of to sleep with the murmur of his friends’ conversation in his ears.