High-Rise Blood by G.D. Gaherty

Author:G.D. Gaherty [Gaherty, G.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: G.D. Gaherty
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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The pair walked around the large stage erected in front of the River of God Fountain in the Fitzroy Gardens. Along either side of the stage were booths and stalls. Carter and Song walked between the rows of stalls on the left side of the stage. All the queer sports teams had set up a booth alongside mental health services and various community services. Melbourne’s recreational and support communities were reaching out tonight. From water polo, running clubs to free psychological counselling, anything on offer in Melbourne staked a presence tonight. Crowds drifted between the booths along with Carter and Song who weaved their way in and out of the groups.

The pair were looking for any suspicious behaviour. Carter tended to look at how people walk and the clothes they were wearing. Given the heat today, anyone wearing a puffer jacket got his immediate attention in case they might be carrying a concealed weapon. Thankfully he didn’t notice anyone meeting these criteria. The large crowds slowed the pair’s pace to a snail’s crawl and then eventually to a stop. Carter glanced at the counselling stall beside them. His eyes darted away as he quickly saw the list of counselling services, addiction and gambling high among them.

Won’t need to gamble once I win the big one. This isn’t my Ahab’s white whale, I’ll stop after one, Carter thought.

The trifecta of heat, a burning bright sun, and drought turned the once lush, green grass in the gardens into a brown spotted field. A field trampled by the growing crowds who were setting up their picnic spots in front of the stage.

“Holy shit.” Carter pulled down his sunglasses as he and Song surveyed the attendees from the stage.

“There must be nearly three hundred people here,” Song said.

“At least,” Carter said.

Groups of people set out picnic blankets on the park ground and socialised. Nearly every group had a bottle of wine and snacks. Carter and Song started to survey the makeup of the various individual groups.

They were both in plain clothes, but on second glance, it was clear to anyone Carter and Song were officers: earbuds connected them to a walkie talkie on their tactical belts and a no-nonsense look of determination on their faces.

“Pete and Diane must be proud – so many people coming together for Nelson,” Song said.

“Hopefully.” Carter said as they passed a group of four people on a picnic blanket uncorking a bottle of Australian sparkling wine.

“Or people in Melbourne just enjoy any excuse to drink in a park.” Carter glanced back towards the stage. He spotted Davies in her formal police uniform. Even from this distance, he could see the array of commendations pinned to her chest. Next to Davies sat Nelson’s friend Abby and a few other people seated on chairs. Carter squinted towards the stage, but Nelson’s parents weren’t there or to either side.

James Hughes stepped up to the lectern. Next to him stood a sign language interpreter. His voice boomed through the speakers by the stage.

“Before

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