“That’s what I thought. But where’s it gone?”
“Cloud cover maybe.” Cath leaned forward and looked at the night sky. “There are a few clouds around at the moment. The light pollution helps us see them.” She sat back. “Not sure if I told you that my dad now works at a NASA tracking station near Canberra. He took me there once, and we stood in the still of the night in the middle of a paddock. Have you ever been away in the bush, away from the city lights, and looked up at the night sky?”
“Don’t think I have.”
“I’m shocked you haven’t. You need to add that to your bucket list. It’s an amazing sight. Words can’t explain it. It would be even more amazing to be in the outback—somewhere like Birdsville. You wouldn’t see clouds there. They’d be nothing but patches of black against the starlit sky.”
The dot reappeared, and with it a slight rush of excitement. “There it is. Over to the right.”
Cath leaned forward. “Interesting. Maybe a planet, but it’s not one I’m familiar with. It looks like a dad question.”
He remembered her lullaby. “Why doesn’t it twinkle?”
“Atmosphere. It distorts the image of the stars so they twinkle. Planets are closer, so they’re not affected as much. And that one looks close. Real close.”
“See, you do know a few things about the starry sky.”
“I do. But this one interests me.”
“Why?”
“In relation to something I’ve been reading,” Her tone said it was something he wasn’t likely to be interested in.
“A Bible thing?”
“Yes, Jack.”
“Should I be alarmed?” His question was tongue-in-cheek. Sometimes she bordered on the radical side of faith, at least compared to Erica. She was still finding her way. Said it took time and effort to learn a new way of life. But he accepted his semi-radical partner despite her beliefs. Good partners like Cath were hard to come by.
“Yes, Jack. I think you should be alarmed.”
He wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.
They arrived at the scene, parking as close as they could, and walked towards the flickering lights that showed a hive of activity. From the top of an embankment, the site below looked like a tent surrounded by glow-worms. The area was well-lit with portable floodlights. A shelter protected the body of the victim, preserving evidence. Forensic staff in blue protective clothing and face masks moved around. The river provided a dark and murky background enhancing the glow-worm effect.
Jack had a brief look at the body. A young woman, around twenty years of age. Wrong place, wrong time. He didn’t know what she was up to at this hour of the morning, but it didn’t matter. There was no excuse for what had taken place. He looked over at Cath, who had a tear at the corner of her eye. This was getting to them both. The world had become a darker place, and they both knew it.
2 - Packaged and energised
Thomas Wiley was supposed to be meeting one of his comrades at the river. He disliked the word, but that was how the group referred to its members and he slipped into ‘group talk mode’ whenever he was involved with them. The comrade hadn’t shown up. The comrade tended to be on the unreliable side, bordering on unstable. Who knew why the comrade was still allowed to be associated with the group?
Their relationship involved sitting on the riverbank, having a few drinks, while his comrade used an app on his phone to show Wiley the planets and the stars. His comrade knew so much about those things in the night sky—even more when he was in his right mind. That wasn’t happening a lot lately, and Wiley sensed his friend had ventured back into the drug world.
He looked to the sky and saw a few stars. A bright orange object stood out. Without the app, many stars and planets remained invisible as the city lights polluted the sky. Wiley had the app on his phone, so he opened it and pointed it at the orange dot in the sky.
Unidentified.
They hadn’t had time to update the app. His friend would often rave about an asteroid coming. One that he claimed he discovered on a stargazing trip in outback Australia. Was that it?
Movement across the river caught his attention. Flashing blue and red lights. An area lit up by floodlights. A drowning, maybe? Nothing unusual in the life of a river city.
Life must go on. He had to return to his room to attend to a task. His group, his secret society, had liked his idea and gave him the resources to execute his strategy.
He picked up a shoebox from the floor and placed it on the coffee table near the open window. A cool early morning breeze filtered into the room. He removed some packages and other items from the box and placed them on the table in front of him. The wrapping on the packages was mostly plain, with the magic word ‘organic’ displayed at the appropriate place. That word had grown in importance over the years for marketers, and people tended to follow the crowd. The marketers had them under their spell. People were so easy to manipulate.
There was a sheet of paper. Large capital letters advised Wiley to avoid skin exposure and breathing in vapours. He stiffened and his heart pounded in his chest. Shouldn’t the sheet of paper have been on top of the goods, so he saw it before he touched the items? He reached over and opened the window wider, placed his mouth near the opening, and took some deep breaths.
With the panic subsided, he followed the instructions on the piece of paper and put on the face mask, goggles, and gloves provided. He injected the substance into a number of packages. The instructions advised him to destroy the sheet of paper once the task was completed. He looked around for some matches but couldn’t locate any, so he folded and placed the sheet in a pocket in his shorts.
Who could resist an organic breakfast bar, and a free one at that? Marketing at its best. He looked at his glasses on the table, with their thick jet-black frames. They almost looked like novelty glasses. Wearing those, he’d know exactly who were going to receive the lovely organic breakfast bars. He placed the bars and his glasses in his backpack, threw it over his shoulder, put on his baseball cap, and left. He walked out, softly singing a song.
* * *
Jack Kinnaird sat in the police headquarters’ amenities area, fighting off tiredness. Cath picked up her backpack, looked back and gave him a small nod as she headed towards the exit. She needed some sleep and was happy to jump on public transport for the short trip home. He gave her a soft brush away and a slight shake of the head. He wasn’t leaving. She understood. It had been a long night, and he still had some reporting to do before he could leave. It was his responsibility.
They had worked with the officers involved in the shooting, helping them deal with what took place. Some were more distraught than others, and a counsellor had been called in. Some officers not involved in the incident had been sent off to inform relatives of the deaths of both the innocent and the accused, a task Jack loathed. He’d had loved ones collapse in his arms even before breaking the news. Life could be so hard. The drink helped deal with such things for both officers and the victims.
He looked into his cup and finished what was left of his coffee. The sun was reflecting from an adjacent building and another officer walked over to pull down a blind. Blocking the sunlight was a little sad. They’d be better off putting on sunglasses. Impractical inside, but it reminded him of some evidence they’d located. He’d walked the route the suspect had taken, noting the CCTV locations and asking officers to follow up. During the stroll, he’d seen an officer coming out of the shadows onto the path carrying what looked like glasses sealed in a plastic bag.
Jack had asked if they belonged to the suspect.
The officer believed they did, as a witness had seen the man running, reach to his face, and throw something. Jack told the officer he’d done well. If the glasses belonged to the suspect, it was either to look cool or to hide the damage of years of drug-assisted sleep deprivation—more likely the latter. These thoughts were confirmed when the officer told him the witness said the man appeared crazy, swinging his arms at things that weren’t there.
Invisible things. But some people did see unseen things. Jack had encountered one such person in a previous case. But Jack had little time for that world—he was too caught up in this world.
The crime seemed straightforward except that two people were now dead—the victim and the suspect—and a group of police officers were now under investigation. Been there, done that.
The public didn’t understand a handgun was the best weapon for police to defend themselves in close-range violent situations. Stun guns put officers in a vulnerable position when faced with an attacker with a knife or gun. Miss with the taser and the officer was dead. The general public didn’t encounter such things and didn’t like cops shooting people, so to keep peace with the public, and be shielded from legal liabilities, all shootings required an internal investigation, making it all a long drawn-out affair for those involved. Jack gave a soft sigh.
