Chapter 31

Kings Cross Police station, in the absence of it’s chief and one of its detectives, was operating as efficiently as ever. The select group worked efficiently and determinedly to secure early results that were very pleasing. In these types of investigations it was important to draw first blood quickly, and under the veil of surprise.

Phone taps many and covert had begun the current flow of arrests. The investigation swept through the undercurrents of the Cross like wildfire, then into Sydney City and throughout Australia. Through a lot of power Cliff managed to keep the whole investigation relatively under wraps. The media wanted to let loose but were starved of any official statements. This made them create stories from fragmented information, which served to increase hysteria, rather then quell it. As the fire spread, people ran for cover when the heat got too much, and in their running attracted attention. Others became hysterical and in panic exposed their activities.

It was those who weren’t cool headed about things, that Cliff found most useful. Every man had his breaking point. Those who were the most powerful, seemed to crumble faster. Being used to official protection, these men had grown lazy, sloppy and stupid. Not the regular garden-variety criminals, they had maintained their crimes with official police endorsement. So to suddenly become as invisible as a ghost, to most was a feat they weren’t capable of.. Used to being the manipulators of justice, and using the media as a vehicle to keep suspicion at bay, these men found it increasingly difficult to maintain the veneer of innocence.

The faster the fire of arrests spread, the more guilt surfaced. Like the learned strategies of Sun Tzu the ancient Chinese general, Cliff turned each strength the men had against them. Their select clubs they were members of; became the club whose every member was a suspect. The media who they used to hide motive of their actions in; became a tool they couldn’t use and do without. Their secret bonds that made the network work; became useless to them, as the investigators weren’t a part of it. The positions of power that made them seem beyond suspicion; Cliff and the team ignored them and the higher the position the more valiantly the official team attacked.

So even the coolest of cool operators were fast losing ground as their lower level cronies split. The more people panicked the deeper and more thorough was the investigation, penetrating levels of society few dreamed about. People in high office, politicians and judges were shocked to see their colleagues being taken away. And couldn’t these guys plea bargain.

Cliff, in a couple of days, had been fortunate enough to place so many lives in jeopardy that straight and crooked officials feared to not co-operate with him. Pressure was now coming from a direction that wasn’t initially realised. The investigation was so efficient that the people of Australia would be hard accepting the change. Australia was cleansing itself, and as the dirt ran off, and people would be embarrassed that they tolerated so much of it for so long. The more politicians, and teachers and lecturers and counsellors and doctors that were arrested, the less the population would be able to trust those remaining. There would need to be major crisis counselling in place to deal with the shock of it all. Just this afternoon Cliff had arrested another judge, and he had spilled some high level information. This was taking the case to scary heights.

On the home front though, the China Town murder had begun to look as if it had no connection with the death of Joanne, the prostitute. Around ten Cliff read a copy of a letter the deceased had written to her mother. It repulsed him. Police discovered the butchered remains of the mother shortly after.

The bodies of the three dead witnesses were ready for burial. So Cliff rang Christine with the news.

"Hi Christine, I’m ringing to tell you about the funeral of the young boys of the Cross. Maybe you’d like to attend or pass the word around to those who are interested."

"Thanks " Christine said, taking down the time and place as Cliff gave it to her.

"How’s Sharon coming along? "

"It was tough last night, yet things are looking positive."

"I won’t need to come around after all. It looks as if Joanne’s stepfather killed her. We have forensics out at his home cross-checking fingerprints with those found on the heroin. Her mother is dead also, and we have a note that started the ball rolling. Seems the father was discovered through the pen of the daughter and killed his wife before fleeing. So I don’t need to visit Sharon. She won’t need to hear this at the moment."

"Your right about that Cliff. I think she’s only holding on by a thin thread, and everyone’s prayers will help at the moment." Nathaniel gained Christine’s attention and she turned to face him. " Hold it a sec Cliff, I think Nathaniel wants to know something." There was a pause on the line while a background conversation took place "Nathaniel wants to know what’s happening with the case. The media doesn’t seem to be following the story "

"I’ve arranged a black out on the media, by pulling some pretty heavy strings. The investigation is having alarming results Christine. People are crumbling everywhere, and the case is spreading like a bush fire out of control.

"You sound worried Cliff."

"I’m worried yes, but I couldn’t be more excited. This investigation will outstrip any other in Australia’s history. It’s bigger than the environment issue, larger then the republic debate and more threatening to each and every Australian than anything one politician can do. Anyway I must go, my mobile’s ringing."

Christine shared the news with Nathaniel and he turned to her and smiled.

"Who was saying only a few days ago, that you don’t even seem to be making a dint in the Cross. Who’s made a dint so big that it’ll be greater than any others before it will. Who had the trust of the street kid who reported it? Hey. Come here you little doll."

*******

John looked out to the factory floor, where clothing manufacture was in daily progress all brought about by his wonderful staff. He smiled to himself as he rubbed his chin. It would be great to give these loyal workers a share in their own company. He’d been pondering on it for a year now, ever since his trip to America, where incentives made all the difference to a worker’s attitude.

He’d had a good meeting with the Human Resource Company at five o’clock and as the evening began to fall he was at peace with himself. He was so impressed with the company, it’s operation and it’s people that he’d signed straight away. In the signing he knew he’d handed over the reins of his company, but he was content and happy.

Although he was standing in his factory in Melbourne, his heart was somewhere else. He yearned to see Joanne again and be part of her world, while with equal anticipation he remembered the time he’d spent with Christine, and her vision. On a hunch, carried away with his dream, he picked up the phone and dialled Christine’s number. He waited, playing with a calculator on his desk, doing a projection or two.

"Good afternoon, Christine speaking " he heard her voice say.

"Good afternoon Christine. This is John Alexander. How have you been?

"Flat out! There is no other word for it."

"What’s made you flat out, have you gone back onto that case at the station?" John asked, the concern evident in his tone.

"No, we’ve had what looks like the murder of a prostitute. One of her friends tried to kill herself. Now she’s here in my home trying to break her heroin habit by doing it cold turkey."

"Can you get off heroin cold turkey? I mean, do they still allow it? It seems so cruel." John asked. He was shocked. Shocked also that Christine would be involved with the street workers. He remembered something she’d said on the phone to him, the first time he’d rung her. It was that as a counsellor and a Christian her work had no time limits.

"It’s the best way John. The Methadone program doesn’t seem to work. Addicts just switch drugs, yet they never address the reason why they’re taking the drug. I choose the former, because it works. It’s better for the addict in the long run, and if we’re successful it costs society less."

"Who is the girl, how do you know her? " John asked.

"Oh her name’s Sharon. I met her last week when she brought a street kid into her home, to foster him. She ran the situation past me to get everything legal. She’s since met a friend of mine, Dave, and he’s the one who discovered her after she’d tried to kill herself. "

"Why would she want to kill herself Christine? " I mean it was only one of her friends. It seems such a shame. Why would she want to do that?"

"I think her friend Joanne was more then a friend, I feel that they saw themselves as family. They needed and depended on each other. It hit Sharon pretty hard. Only she could answer that question properly. Maybe you should ask her sometime, John. She’ll be here for a few months at least. When are you planning your next trip up here?"

John’s mind was awash. He went silent. Inside he was screaming as a hot poker seared him deeply. He couldn’t believe it. Who would do such a thing? A lump came to his throat and a tear to his eye, he turned from his secretary as she entered his office and brushed her away with his arm.

"John are you there? "

All she got back was a whimper of a "Yes." and that he’d call her back later.

John hung up the phone. Overwhelmed with grief, he slumped in his chair, and for an instant knew how Sharon must have felt. A dark foreboding cloud enveloped him as his dream vanished. ‘Why go on?’ a voice inside said. He looked across to his well stocked bar. A bottle of Jonnie Walker Black label looked very inviting.

*******

When Tony returned to Loran’s house the sun had set over the rise of the Queenscliff headland. A warm breeze had followed him, drying the water from his clothes after his swim. Tony remembered his last day at the beach with Sharon and Dave and previously with Tracy. Today he had good memories. Like dreams, they held a special place in his heart. Through Tracy he had begun to feel loveable and his time with her had changed him forever. Why, oh why had she taken her own life? Things to him had seemed to be going so well. His heart was broken, but in his hurt he could appreciate more fully everybody’s love. He spent a lot of time wandering along the beach, watching the waves roll in and remembering the laughter and love he’d shared with Tracy He’d kept her letter and one day would write a song for her, a song of love, pain and some things that can’t be explained. Getting through the next week, the next month, was his present concern.

Tony knocked on the door.

Loran was there to greet him as she opened it "Hi Tony, I wondered when you’d be home." The tantalising aroma of a dish Loran was cooking made it’s way to his teenage nose. He smiled.

"Yeah, I thought I’d better come, to save you worrying." The words Loran had just said were repeating in Tony’s head. They were so comforting, and exactly what he needed to hear at the moment.

"You’d better freshen up. Mike will be here in about ten minutes for dinner. Then we’ll eat. Are you hungry?" As she said it she realised what a silly question it was. Tony’s eyes had lit up before he spoke. She had her answer.

Loran smiled. Tony’s manner, so happy and relaxed, assured her of his contentment. "Go on, go and have a shower, Mike’s bringing some fresh clothes up for you." Tony disappeared into the bathroom.

*******

Sharon sat at the dinner table. Candlelight flickered on the faces of her friends. Christine was chatting to Nathaniel, the two children were silently eating their meal and David sat directly opposite smiling at her. The people at the table felt to her like the family she’d never had. She had no desire to eat, yet she didn’t want the meal to end. She longed to keep this feeling forever, it was far too much to really comprehend, yet it was real and she knew it.

Inside her heart she could feel something drawing her. She knew that only a year or so ago, David must have been sitting here at this very table feeling the same. She looked over at him as he laughed at something one of the children had told him. David was in his prime, strong and healthy with sparkling hazel eyes and shiny hair. He looked great. Sharon swallowed and looked again. She had a vision of herself, relaxed and confident, just as he was. A tear came to her eye. She had seen it. She could do it. She could pull through.

As she looked at David tonight she saw him in another light. She could see his talent as a father, his way with children.

As Nathaniel was chatting to his wife, he glanced at Dave, and smiled. Dave was talking to one of the children yet, from time to time, would look up at Sharon. The look he saw in Dave’s eyes was a familiar one. He recognised it as more than sympathy, more than just a desire to help her. The look Dave was giving to Sharon was none other than love. He knew that look well, that all-encompassing love that could not be extinguished, raw male, raw love.

Christine finished what she was saying to Nathaniel. She’d seen him glance from time to time at Dave, and when he had, she’d glanced over to Sharon. Sharon was coping well by all standards. She wasn’t eating much, yet that didn’t worry Christine. Food wasn’t important, she was a well-fed woman, and she could manage without too much for a while. Yet Sharon was receiving something else. She smiled from time to time, contented and happy. Christine saw her through the eyes of a woman. She could see Sharon admiring the way Dave was entertaining the children. He would make a good father himself one day. She smiled to herself in a knowing way.

Dave sat telling jokes to the children. He laughed at their jokes, and listened to their stories. Caught up in their world, he let his mind wander in their dreams, and listen to their triumphs. Life was simpler being a child. They had a mother and father who loved them. And they loved each other. A father who took time to be responsible for their upbringing. A father who loved them, who wasn’t a drunk, and who didn’t sexually abuse them as his father had.

When he looked at the children and talked to them, it was a further healing in it. If Christine and Nathaniel could bring up such wonderful children, who were smart, and who dearly loved and respected their parents, then so could he. He’d already found the mother for his children, and she sat opposite him today as a friend in need. A friend only, for at least six months until she recovered from her past. After that, Dave hoped that they’d be more than just friends. He hoped that she would be his wife.

*******

The Jonnie Walker sat open. John sipped on his second drink. He sat with his feet on his desk, looking out at Melbourne’s city lights shining in the newness of night. In the past he needed the bottle to cope. Not tonight. Though he loved the rich flavour of the Black label. He’d been hurt before. So, yes he’d lost Joanne to the ravages of the Kings Cross lifestyle. But he wasn’t the first to loose a loved one their on those lonely streets.

He’d spent a quite a time grieving for the loss of Joanne, that grief had turned to anger then to a deep sense of pity. He’d spent so much time making money in the past and now the woman to whom he’d dedicated this year’s lead dress, had passed away. He was on his own. She hadn’t left without sealing his destiny though, for the very dress he’d dedicated to her symbolised something greater. He’d promised the proceeds of that dress and every other lead dress to go to the street kids, and whilst he pursued that dream, he knew that Joanne would be pleased.

John stood up and poured himself another drink. He raised it in the air and thought. A toast, to you dear Joanne, your memory will live in my heart forever, as I endeavour to help the kids. Thank you Joanne, for the inspiration you gave me and the dream that began with you.