The Wiregrass by Adrian Hyland

Author:Adrian Hyland [Adrian Hyland]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ultimo Press
Published: 2023-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 28

The address was in the tiny town of Rufus, an hour to the south. That must have been the retirement shack Vince had spoken of.

I rang the number, received a curt reply and precise directions to Starcy’s place. Over the phone at least, he had the air of a feller who didn’t fuck about with formalities and small talk. I drove down to Rufus and found the property where he said it was: five minutes out of town, ten isolated acres on the shore of a lake with a pair of white-faced herons at the water’s edge. There was a fibro shack with a LandCruiser in the carport and a tinny on a trailer in the yard.

As I cruised down the drive, the front door opened and a man emerged. He came towards me, limping. Old coppers are like old footballers: they limp a lot. He was tall, heavily built, wearing black tracky dacks, a blue lumber jacket and a green beanie. He carried himself with an air of authority, despite the years and the gait.

‘Jesse,’ he said, engulfing my hand in his. He had cracked nails, bent fingers, calluses on his calluses. ‘Come round to the fire. Need some warmth on a day like this. On a subject like this.’

He led me to the far side of the house, gasping a little as he walked. There was a pair of metal chairs looking out over the lake and a lively fire upon which a billy was simmering.

I paused to take in the view. The breeze blowing off the lake was icy and light, the greenery on the opposite shore luminous.

‘You live here on your own?’ I asked.

‘Mostly. Since the wife died. Still got a place down the city, but I like the peace out here. It’s the antidote to forty-five years of wading through the human sewer.’

‘Sorry to disturb it.’

He brushed my apology aside. ‘If it’ll help the boy . . .’

Nash wasn’t exactly a boy, but maybe when you got to Starcy’s age, we all looked like boys or girls. He threw a chunk of red gum onto the fire, poured me a pannikin of tea, gave me a lamington from a packet.

‘So,’ he said, lowering his glasses and raising his eyebrows. ‘Vince Tehlich tells me you’re in a relationship with Nash.’

‘I seem to be.’

‘That’d be a first for him, at least in my experience. You must be an adventurous soul. I didn’t even know he was in trouble again until Vince told me yesterday. Don’t have that many contacts still in the job. Better for my mental health to steer clear of the brotherhood. I’ll try to get down and see him. Not supposed to be driving right now, but I got a mate who’s happy to be my chauffeur.’ He stretched out his right leg and gave the knee a massage, then looked me in the eye. ‘You seriously think Nash might have been the victim in all of this? The patsy?’

I tried to explain the reasons for my suspicion.

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