Endpeace. Jon Cleary

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he thought she was going to kiss him. But she went by him and ducked under the tapes. ‘The under-gardener or the family – who’s first?’

      ‘The under-gardener. Dwayne the Turk.’

      Malone had never heard the term under-gardener before; he would have called the man the assistant gardener, if he called him anything. He could only surmise that it was an English term.

      Dwayne Harod was short and slim and outgoing; hawk-faced but handsome, dark-skinned and dark-haired and in his early twenties. He was working amongst the roses when the two detectives approached him, having skirted the house and, so far, avoided any of the family.

      ‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard it on the radio yesterday morning. It sorta floored me.’ His accent was broad Australian; Anatolia was somewhere back in the memory mist of childhood. ‘I was pretty sick, anyway, I got this virus that’s been going around. Or maybe it’s an allergy, I dunno. That’d be a joke, eh? If I was allergic to flowers.’ He waved an arm; he was waist-deep in the last roses of summer. Long-stemmed blooms, already cut, lay on a sheet of plastic. ‘These are for inside the house. Lady Huxwood wants them, same as usual.’

      ‘We understand you’ve been here only two weeks, Dwayne. Is that your real name?’

      He had a charming smile. ‘I give it to m’self when I was fifteen, sixteen. My old man named me Kemal. He was a great admirer of Kemal Atatürk. You heard of him?’

      ‘Vaguely.’ This seemed to be Old Dictators Week. Malone glanced at Kate Arletti, whose father had admired a dictator, but she was apparently ignorant of Kemal Atatürk. Malone only knew of the Father of modern Turkey because he had once spent a month unsuccessfully chasing two Turks who had killed a man in a botched bank robbery and who had somehow escaped the nets at airports and vanished back to Turkey. ‘Does Kemal mean anything?’

      There was an embarrassed smile. ‘It means “perfect”.’

      ‘I don’t blame you for changing it. Are you legally Dwayne then?’

      ‘Well, no. Legally, I’m still – perfect.’ The smile this time was not so embarrassed.

      ‘Bully for you. How did you get this job? Have you been a gardener before?’

      ‘I answered the ad in the paper. There were eight of us come for it and they picked me. No, I never been a gardener before. I used to work in the canefields up in Queensland till I come down here.’

      ‘How long have you been in Sydney?’

      ‘A month. I live with my uncle and aunty out in Marrickville.’ He was laying himself out like an open book, almost a little too eagerly. Malone had seen this before, when kids had been afraid of the cops, but Dwayne Harod gave the impression that he was afraid of no one. ‘I was lucky to get this job so soon, considering.’

      ‘Considering what?’

      Harod looked puzzled, as if he didn’t understand why Malone didn’t know the state of the nation. ‘The unemployed. The recession’s supposed to be over, but it ain’t by a long chalk, not for guys with no education or training. That’s why I’m grateful for Mr Derek giving me the job –’

      ‘Mr Derek took you on?’

      ‘Well, he was the one told me I had the job. But the Old Lady – I mean Lady Huxwood, I think she had a say in it –’ He gave another smile, an old lady’s favourite.

      ‘Righto, Dwayne. Can we have your home address, just in case?’

      ‘I have that,’ said Kate Arletti.

      Harod looked at her in surprise, then said, ‘I might be moving from there soon, now I’ve got a job. Is that all you want?’

      Malone told him that was all they wanted for the time being and he and Kate walked away, going round the northern corner and coming out on the wide lawn that ran down to the water’s edge. There were no cruising cameramen today, the invasion had been put on hold.

      ‘What d’you think, Kate?’

      ‘He’s pretty cheerful, isn’t he?’

      ‘That’s what I thought. He said the news of the murder when he heard it on the radio floored him, but he seems to have picked up pretty quick. He’s got over his virus, too.’

      ‘He didn’t mention the murder again. He also didn’t mention Sir Harry once by name.’

      Malone nodded. The girl was learning to develop a police ear, to hear what was unsaid as much as what was said. ‘Don’t cross him off our list, we’ll get back to him. Now who’s next?’

      ‘If you want to see the grandkids, there’s probably only one of them home – he’s a uni student. All the others have jobs.’

      ‘In the company?’

      ‘Only three of them. The youngest, Ross, Derek’s son, is doing economics at Sydney. He’s one of the rebels, a real tearaway, I’m told.’

      Malone sighed. ‘I love tearaways. They’re a real pain in the butt. Righto, let’s see if he’s home.’

      Ross Huxwood was home, sunning himself on the terrace of Little House One with his mother Cordelia. He was a big lad, taller than Malone and bulkier, most of it muscle though there was a hint of beer fat round his middle; Malone had seen scores like him around the rugby clubs and the better watering holes, the elite of ockerism. He was blond and good-looking in a beefy way, his cheeks and jaw too heavy, his wide mouth sullen. But he had been taught to be polite: he stood up as Malone and Kate Arletti came up on to the terrace.

      ‘Ah, the lady detective! Mum –’

      Cordelia must have been dozing behind her dark glasses. Her head jerked and she sat up on the lounge where she had been stretched out. She was in a sleeveless yellow sun-dress and her son was in a tight pair of blue shorts. So far, it seemed, the mourning weeds were still in the wardrobe.

      ‘Oh Scobie! Or do I have to call you Inspector? Do sit down. You too, Miss – ?’

      ‘Detective-Constable Arletti.’ Kate’s voice was chill.

      Cordelia lowered her dark glasses to look at Kate over the top of them; but she said nothing. The two detectives sat down at a wrought-iron table under a blue umbrella. Ross, at his mother’s command, went away to get coffee and Malone said, ‘I think we’d better keep it on an official basis, Mrs Huxwood.’

      Cordelia looked disappointed; Malone wondered now if that was her normal expression. ‘Well, I suppose it’s to be expected ... Have you come up with anything? I don’t know how the police work – how would I? – but have you made any progress?’

      ‘Very little.’ He paused before he went on, ‘Except that we’ve heard there is a lot of tension in the family about the sell-off.’

      ‘Where did you hear that?’ she said sharply. ‘Over there?’ She nodded across the lawn towards the hedges that half-hid Little House Two.

      He didn’t answer that directly: don’t point the finger. ‘We’ve had detectives here for the past twenty-four hours. Including Detective Arletti. СКАЧАТЬ