Chapter 13

The stillness of the morning was gone, it was almost lunchtime. He�d been lost in his own little world. He heard the boiling of the kettle in the kitchen meaning that his wife was up. Peter got up from his seat in the study, cleared his desk and walked out to the kitchen. Gone was his composure as a writer. He slipped back into the role of a loving husband.

"Good morning " Peter announced on entering the dining room where his wife was sitting reading the morning paper and sipping a cup of tea. She looked up and smiled, acknowledging his greeting.

"Good morning dear. Couldn�t you sleep?" she asked, one eye on the paper and one on her husband.

"No." Peter replied. "I don�t know why. I just haven�t been able to sleep that well lately." As he replied he watched his wife for any clues that she was hiding anything. He wasn�t totally comfortable that he was in the clear. Seeing that she was as calm as usual he continued." I see you cleaned up my study."

"All part of the job, " she said. " Do you want a cuppa tea ? "

"That would be nice." He watched as she poured the tea, her hands steady, and all her motions relaxed and calm. He gathered that she hadn�t seen anything; she couldn�t have seen anything. Pouring a little milk and adding a couple of teaspoons of sugar, she stirred it and motioned that it was ready. " Thanks " he said. He breezed over behind her and put his hands on her white silken neck and firmly dug his fingers into the muscles. Gently massaging her, she relaxed. �She�d be a good cover.� he thought to himself, continuing his probing.

"Have you ever thought of starting up a business in massage?"

"No." he said laughing, "I don�t think I have ever thought of it.".

"Why? You�ve done a course. You�d be good at it. "

" Me? I wouldn�t have the patience; listening to all those old ladies telling me that the lettuce is too expensive these days and how they wish it would rain. I don�t think I could handle it. Sure, I could see myself being good enough to charge for my services, but dealing with the public would be another thing all together. I might think about it though. At least I could be self employed."

"Why don�t you advertise just here in these personal columns in the local rag? It wouldn�t cost much. You could take your bench to their place. You have the oils and powder and stuff. You have everything you need."

"Yes, but how could I handle all the attention. I mean, I like my own company. I�m a bit of a recluse."

"Get out of here!" You�re not shy, and I�m sure you wouldn�t mind fondling a couple of young girls. Don�t try and kid me Peter, I�m awake to your goings on. Don�t you think I have ears to hear, and eyes to read." The implication in her voice just hung in the air.

He grabbed his cup of tea and returned to his study. Another look at the tape recorder revealed his worst suspicions. The tape counter read 000, which meant she must have put it on to 000, listened and then rewound it to the same spot. He wandered back into the kitchen and as he did he eyed her curiously. What did she know?

*******

Slater woke his head ringing. A ring that was starting to annoy him, yet not as much as the feeling of his nose. He put his hand up to it and he felt some fresh blood. This time it was his. He wondered why he put up with this jerk? The money, always the money. It sickened him. The mess of it all caught him in a catch 22. He couldn�t afford to stop, yet couldn�t bear to go on. He gathered himself up, first sitting, and then he struggled to stand.

"Where do you think you�re going?�� The fat man shouted from his seat at the dining room table, a kebab half in his mouth and half over his hands and face.

"You don�t fool me, you jerk! Not for one minute, arsehole." Slater knew he was committed now.

"You just watch yourself buddy or you may end up dead one day!" Hoping his new found courage would settle the bully down, he had tried being assertive. Before he knew it, he�d discovered that, this was the wrong thing to say. The old man grabbed him by the hair again and dragged him into the lounge. What greeted his eyes was something that burnt a hole in his memory. Never, for the rest of his life, would he forget what he saw. He�d seen horror movies. He�d seen blood and guts. But nothing could prepare a person for the sight that greeted his eyes today. He collapsed in terror. His arms went over his head and he lay in a foetal position, hoping the fat man wouldn�t hurt him any more.

Tears came to his eyes, his face was pale as Cyril grabbed his hair and told him to look once again at the carnage. "Take a good look Slater. Take a damn good look! I enjoyed doing that. It was fun and exciting."

The body was so disfigured it was almost beyond recognition. He couldn�t tell the sex. There was blood everywhere. Strips of skin hung from the corpse. It stank. It was brutal. And this man was responsible. He�d enjoyed it?

"Any complaints?"

Slater found it hard to speak. He felt if he opened his mouth he�d be sick. He looked up at Cyril and nodded no.

"So have you got anything to say."

"No," Slater managed.

"I thought not!" Now would you care to join me for a waffle and some ice cream?"

"Okay" Slater agreed, too scared to say anything else. He�d never raise his voice to Cyril again, and would always do what Cyril wanted. His mind was running at a furious pace. Questions leaped at him. The questions would have to wait. "Can I clean myself up? " he asked.

"Sure"

Slater walked into the bathroom, the compulsion to throw up once again overcame him and he detoured into the toilet. After wiping his mouth he went back to the bathroom. As he washed his face he could see remnants of blood on the sink, evidence of where Cyril had tried to clean up. It took quite a bit of scrubbing to clean his face and he as he took a look in the mirror before a final rinse he saw Cyril's reflection in the mirror... a knife in his hand!

"Do you want one waffle or two?" he asked. The knife caught the mid morning light streaming into the bathroom. The look on Cyril's fat face was disturbing. How could he eat and be excited about waffles and ice cream with that mess in his loungeroom? Slater would never know.

"Two thanks " Slater replied.

When he returned from the bathroom, Cyril handed him a bowl with two hot waffles and ice cream. A chocolate syrup smothered it. He started to eat hoping he could keep it down.

"So now what? I suppose you�d better recruit some more kids?" Cyril suggested.

Slater, feeling uneasy, commented "I�d be more comfortable with just me and Colin. There's no hassle and less chance of being busted."

"Yeah, but will that keep me in the lifestyle I�m accustomed to?" Cyril asked, a leer on his face. He liked this boy opposite him. He must have just witnessed one of his worst nightmares, had his head kicked in beforehand and now he was trying to call the shots. The boy had spirit; he�d give him that. He wasn�t even fun to sodomise these days, his fear of it all but gone. Like those prostitutes, he was no fun. Yet Cyril liked to stick it to him once in a while so he knew who was boss.

"It�s a lot less risky

"You mean to say you�re worried about getting busted?" Cyril asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, I am. I�m not above the law." He thought about his slip then added "I mean cops look at me as a street kid and they know I�m a criminal. Just to live I got to do something illegal. Yet no one knows you exist. And even if I dobbed you in, there�s nothing linking you to the merchandise, or to the fact it�s even in your place."

"You�ve done a little thinking haven�t you Slater. Tell me Mr Detective, how do you propose I get rid of the body inside there?"

"I dunno, I haven�t thought about it. "Slater replied, choking a little on some hot waffle sliding down his throat.

"Well think about it." He rose the knife in the air and smiled. "So where do you think I should dump the body?"

"I suppose that depends if you want it found." Slater said blankly. He couldn�t believe his ears. He knew this bloke was a sicko, yet now he was a murderer. He wanted answers to his questions. But why? Slater thought that, if he�d ever planned to kill someone, he would�ve had every detail thought out. He was deep in thought.

"So!"

"Well, do you want the body found?"

"Yes, it adds to the terror. Don�t you think?"

Well, dump it back where you found him, close, you know. Where�d you pick him up?"

"On George Street." Cyril replied, putting the last of the dessert into his mouth. It would be very hard to put it back there without anyone seeing me."

"Oh! " Slater replied. He was getting very sick of this creep before him. Yet it only took a flash of the memory of the boy in the other room to entice him again. He thought for a moment. "Why don�t you dump him in a bin, say down in China Town. That would put the cops off the hunt. It probably wouldn�t be good for trade either."

"That�s a good idea. That was better than my idea. " Okay, let�s get to work. This will be kept between the two of us I imagine."

"No worries" Slater said, swallowing hard.

Slater put his dish in a sink piled high with unwashed dishes. As he turned and was about to leave he felt the fat man�s hands on his lower body. He received a squeeze and left, with the fat man bidding him good day.

*******

"So, you think I should advertise?" Peter asked, returning to the kitchen. He had a worried look on his face and didn�t wish to confront the topic. His blood was racing, his mind confused as to what she�d seen or heard.

"Certainly do." Doris replied, her smile telling him nothing. She was still attractive. Even more so as she�d fooled him into thinking she was innocent. Her dark eyes showed only co-operation.

"Do you want to design the ad?" he asked including her in the idea she suggested. He hadn�t thought that a chapter in his new book could include a masseur yet the idea was growing on him.

"I�ll do that for you. Give me a piece of paper and a pen. He looked around for one and was just about to return to his study when she said. "Look, under the phone there�s a pad. Grab it and the pen next to it." He walked to the kitchen. Sure enough, under the phone was a little notepad. Turning the pages past a whole lot of messages and shopping lists, he found a blank page to bring to her.

"Here you go. " he said, as he entered the lounge room.

Sitting down he pulled a lever on his reclining chair, picked up a novel he was reading and relaxed while sipping tea that was getting cold. Peter found the spot he was up to. He had just begun to read when his wife came over and asked, "How�s this? "

He looked down at the advertisement she had written. It read:

"LADIES Is life getting you down. The stresses wearing you out.. Let me come around and pamper you with my very experienced hands. Give Peter a call on .........".

"It�s a bit suggestive, isn�t it?" Peter asked, very impressed but trying to play down his excitement.

"It�d suit you wouldn�t it!" she said her lovely lips forming a smile mischievously.

"It will do. Thanks." He sat thinking �this woman knows me to well�. " So what�s on your agenda today?"

"I�ve got my tennis." She said, sitting on the sofa opposite him.

That�s right he mused, thinking to himself. A good gossip session. Who�s screwing who and who is jealous. Who such and such is complaining about and how she has no right to complain. " Do you want a warm up?" he asked smiling.

"No. The tennis coaches get me hot enough thanks." As she said it he saw her look away in embarrassment. He�d suspected something was going on at tennis, yet who was he to complain. He�d grown used to her escapades. He had had a few of his own. Fresh in his memory was his time with Joanne. He also looked forward to seeing Sharon, her friend, in his clasp. He hadn�t decided if he would kill her yet. It was too close to home. He knew it would upset Joanne. He knew that killing them both, though would satisfy him more. He resolved to just mull the feeling around for a while before committing it to his novel.

"So what time have you booked the court for?"

"About 12 .30, we�re having lunch beforehand, so I�ll be gone by about 11.30"

"Oh," he said, as he picked up his novel again to read. Doris got up and cleared the table and began to wash a few dishes in the kitchen. The sound of water and her clanking relieved him and he settled down to read.

"What are you doing today?" he heard her ask from the kitchen. She was a little curious today. He thought for a moment.

"I may go down to the club and see the boys. Catch up on the stories you know and everyone�s exploits over the weekend."

"You�ll have plenty to tell them, won�t you Peter?"

"Yeah. I will." He replied, his mind just outrunning his mouth. "I may have a couple of good stories, yet I�ve no doubt one or two of the boys would beat mine." Confident that he�d brushed her off, he waited to hear her reply.

"Well, if they beat the stories that you told me, about the weekend just passed, then they�d be bigger and better liars than you". Her voice was full of innuendo. It was impossible to tell if she was just bluffing. Yet the way she went about it was starting to really annoy him. He wondered if she would ever become a character in his novel.

"Well, I could always come down and join you and the girls. I�m sure the bullshit would be flying down there!" he replied, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "I could come down and tell them the truth about our sex lives instead of the stories you must be telling them."

"What do you mean?" Doris asked suddenly on the backfoot.

"Oh, they must think I�m a sex maniac or something. Whenever I meet them they are always embarrassed to talk to me, as though I�m an animal or something."

She came up to him and put her face to his and said. " Well what�s the story in that?"

"Nothing, I suppose. But you may have painted me larger than life. I�m not nearly as sexually charged or as devious as they think I am." He said hurt, showing in his tone.

"Aren�t you?" she said, after planting a kiss on his lips. " I�m taking a shower."

He heard the shower start, then heard the bathroom door open. "Are you going to join me?"

Getting to his feet, after closing the book and replacing it, he leant forward to put the lounge back to its normal position. He half ran half-walked, into the bathroom, eagerly undressing and said. "I thought you�d never ask."

"That never stopped you having showers with my daughter!"

He stopped undressing and went silent. That was a low blow. It had caught him totally off guard. He suddenly lost fifty years. He was a child again facing mothers frown.

"She probably excited you more than me. Just like that tape you had in your study." Her voice met him, confident in her challenge. It was no use denying it.

He stood motionless. He didn�t know whether to stay or walk out of the room. She infuriated him sometimes, just like the mother who had so dominated his life. She always kept him in his place, constantly reminding him who wore the pants. Sexually attractive in a way yet domineering all the same. So she knew!" So what�s the tape about Peter?"

"How much did you listen to?"

"What! It�s longer than an hour?"

He stood silently, head bowed.

"Well is it... Is it?" She demanded, stepping into the shower naked, her body glistening as the water splashed over it.

"Yeah."

"I thought you�d got better since the counselling."

"For a while." He confessed, as he continued looking at the tiles on the bathroom floor. As she watched him she could see him retreat into the stature of a little boy. He had his head bowed in shame. His short sentences lacked any pride or conviction, the life knocked out of him. He looked like a victim cowardly hiding himself from another verbal attack. It scared her to see him like this. A grown man reduced to a pitiful state. Nagged by the memories of his childhood, caught in a still frame, as something from those days held him in its grasp again. Once again her words had sent him back; back to the memories the counsellors couldn�t fix; back to those events that had moulded him into the strange man before her. She pitied him, this little boy trapped in a man�s body. The sexual and physical abuse had scarred him all right. She grabbed his hand and said. "Get undressed and come in here."

*******

As Sharon approached the station she could see David saying goodbye to Christine before walking to his car. Her mind raced, her heart pounded both in anticipation and exhaustion from the run.

"Dave!" Sharon called, but he continued walking toward his car unaware that she had called him.

"Dave," she nearly screamed, and stood puffing for lack of breath.

Dave turned his head in response to this louder plea and saw Sharon bent over trying to catch her breath. He walked up to her seeing she wasn�t fit to be running for the moment.

"Hello again. What a pleasant surprise!"

Waiting for some sort of a reply, yet seeing Sharon still breathing hard, he continued. "I must say I�m a lucky guy to have you chasing me already!" He chuckled.

Sharon grinned and looked into his smiling eyes. " What are you doing for the next couple of hours?"

"Nothing that a lovely looking young lady can�t do with me. I�m going to have lunch with a friend, and go over a couple of quotes with him and then we were going to have a chat. Does that suit you?"

"I was hoping to have a talk with you. But you seem too busy."

"Not at all. I can�t see the business taking that long and besides he�s bringing his girlfriend, so you two can chat."

Sharon was in two minds. She wanted his company that was for sure. But how would she cope with the company? He didn�t look worried though. And she did want him alone. Yes, she�d mange, "So where�s lunch? "

"We�re meeting at The Hard Rock Cafe. Come on." He grabbed her hand. "We haven�t got much time..."

*******

Slater shook his head as he walked the streets of the Cross. He couldn�t believe the grotesque sight Cyril had shown him. It appalled him to continue working for Cyril. But it was life on the streets. He didn�t have many choices.

He couldn�t fathom how Cyril could stomach the crime he had committed. The child would have had a very painful death. The body said a lot about Cyril. He thought of leaving right then. But Cyril had a way of telling you things without saying it plainly. He couldn�t leave. Well, if he did he�d have to get out of the Cross. That wasn�t an option. He hated the guy. He was a perverted bastard. And someone whose threats implied or otherwise demanded to be to be taken seriously.

*******

Loran walked briskly from Kings Cross station with her partner. She was shining. She felt so warm and at ease. It was a special moment for her, a day that she would remember for years. Try as she would, she couldn�t get over the sheer surprise that she had been party to. Mike was a dream come true. So many of the girls who were locals at Manly had had designs on him through the years. Not many could boast of their success. Mike was a one-woman man who hand picked his women. Yet, all of that aside, he was hers now and that thought caused her to tingle from head to foot. She�d heard of the euphoria that comes from certain drugs and that they were supposed to put you on cloud nine. She had never experienced them, yet today she was floating in ecstasy. She was in love.

Every time they had passed a jewellery store they had stopped and peered in. Mike was so patient, so understanding. Now they hurried, for Mike had told her they�d have to pass the shops quickly, as he had an appointment. He was looking smart once again this morning and his hair shone above his modern attire. He liked to dress up, but as a builder didn�t get many opportunities to do so. They walked briskly towards the restaurant.

*******

Tony had reached the apartment and let himself in. He walked over to the sofa and took a seat. He was so happy. His eyes grew heavy and as they closed the phone rang.

"Hello, Tony speaking "

"Hello my boyfriend. How�d it go this morning? " Tracy asked.

"Fantastic, Sharon�s been appointed a temporary guardian. The cop was really friendly and helpful. Another guy was there too and he was great " Tony replied." Where are you?"

"I�m in the city at a printing place, getting together my resume so I can apply for some jobs. I�m happy to be able to live with Joanne for the moment and stay off the streets", Tracy continued

"I�m happy too. Our luck really has changed in twenty-four hours hey? I prayed yesterday. I can�t thank God enough. I might start to go to church."

"I�m not going to lose you to some religion am I?" Tracy asked, a little worried.

"No. You won�t lose me. I�m just feeling funny that�s all. It�s just such a big surprise. Sharon�s got enough worries without me. I just can�t help thinking it was more then coincidence. When�s the last time you heard of a prostitute taking a guy off the streets?

"Never." Tracy said.

"Yeah, well don�t you think that it�s a bit of a miracle? I mean, one day we become boyfriend and girlfriend. The next day I pray to God to help me and give me a family, and within 24 hours I�m part of a family. I�m off the streets and so is my girl. Everyone that I love is safe."

"You mean me?" Tracy asked.

"Yes. I mean you. I love you Tracy, I really do!" Tony replied.

"Well maybe there is a God somewhere, but if there is I have a book full of questions for him." Tracy said

"Me to! Anyway when will you be back?"

"I�m almost done down here, I�ll see you in an hour or so. Where will you be?" she asked.

"Asleep on the lounge, I�ll leave the door open". Tony said

"Okay, I�ll see you when I get back."

Tony hung up the phone. He went over and unlocked the door and returned to the lounge. Within minutes he was asleep.