alarm bell. Still drunk and more
confused than ever, he crouched beneath the clothes rail as
thirteen bizarrely-clad women raced past him and out through the
hole. He crawled out and stood up to watch them go, instantly
drenched by the sprinklers. They ran out to the old ute he’d seen
on the way in and milled around it shouting, “Where’s Drukk?
Where’s Drukk? Are you Drukk? No I’m Trugg. Where’s Drukk?” for a
while before running off across the loading bay into the night.
That’s when a woman ran into him
from behind and they both went sprawling across the drenched floor.
The woman was on her feet first. As Wayne blinked through the rain
at her, he thought she looked vaguely familiar. She was stunningly
attractive in a short orange dress that clung wetly to her
otherwise naked body and he gaped at her in awed admiration as any
young drunken male would. She pointed a small stick at him and
said, “Come with me at once.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding eagerly.
“Absolutely.”
They ran out to the ute. “Where did
the others go,” asked the woman. Wayne pointed off down the street.
“Can you operate this conveyance?” she asked him.
“Er, yeah.”
“Then do so,” she said and climbed
in.
“Right!” he said, climbing in right
behind her.
Chapter 8: A Baffling Case
Detective Sergeant Michael
Barraclough was a big man. In his early thirties, what used to be
solid muscle was just beginning to turn to flab but, in his usual,
easy-going way, he was happy to let it. Ten years ago, he had been
a formidable forward on the Divisional rugby team. Even now, he was
the kind of man you wouldn’t pick a fight with in a pub.
Fortunately for everyone around him, Barraclough was one of the
most easy-going of men and not one of his colleagues had ever seen
him lose his temper.
Tonight, he was working the
graveyard shift again. As a lifelong bachelor and dedicated police
officer, he was happy to do more than his share of unsocial hours
and let his mates see their families and friends a bit more often.
He was a friendly, sociable man and the relative solitude of the
night-shift sometimes got him down.
In fact, just after 11:30 pm, he
was thinking of wandering down to the canteen to see if there was
anyone around for a chat, when he received the call from uniform to
say there had been a break-in at Steiner's in the city. Pleased to
have something interesting to do, he beamed at the telephone. "Good
on ya, mate," he told the voice on the phone. "Any arrests?"
"Oh you'll love this, mate. We
bagged Doug McKinnock and Nick Phillipousos, both armed and
equipped."
"You got Douggie Mack!" Barraclough
was impressed. "Was anybody hurt?"
"No. That's the queer thing about
it. They were both out cold when we found them. They're awake now
but they look real crook."
"Where are they?"
"On their way in to the hospital.
The paramedics here couldn't see anything wrong with them."
"I hope your blokes are keeping an
eye on them. I've been chasing that bastard McKinnock all over
Brisbane since he was a 15-year-old thug robbing grocery stores for
beer money."
"I don't think they’re up to making
a run for it." The voice hesitated. "They've said some funny stuff,
Mike."
"Don't worry about that. I'll soon
have the bastards talking straight. Look, try to stop everyone
trampling all over the crime scene quite as much as they usually do
and I'll be there in five minutes.” He sighed happily. “What a
night this is turning out to be! Just tell me there’s a beautiful
woman involved and I’m going straight to Heaven."
“Mike, mate, there’s about a dozen
beautiful women in this case already.”
Barraclough laughed heartily. “See
you in five,” he said.
-oOo-
There were still a couple of fire
service officers on the scene, along with the police forensic team
and two constables who had been assigned to guard the hole, when
Barraclough pulled up at the back of Steiner’s department store. A
four-wheel drive,
confused than ever, he crouched beneath the clothes rail as
thirteen bizarrely-clad women raced past him and out through the
hole. He crawled out and stood up to watch them go, instantly
drenched by the sprinklers. They ran out to the old ute he’d seen
on the way in and milled around it shouting, “Where’s Drukk?
Where’s Drukk? Are you Drukk? No I’m Trugg. Where’s Drukk?” for a
while before running off across the loading bay into the night.
That’s when a woman ran into him
from behind and they both went sprawling across the drenched floor.
The woman was on her feet first. As Wayne blinked through the rain
at her, he thought she looked vaguely familiar. She was stunningly
attractive in a short orange dress that clung wetly to her
otherwise naked body and he gaped at her in awed admiration as any
young drunken male would. She pointed a small stick at him and
said, “Come with me at once.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding eagerly.
“Absolutely.”
They ran out to the ute. “Where did
the others go,” asked the woman. Wayne pointed off down the street.
“Can you operate this conveyance?” she asked him.
“Er, yeah.”
“Then do so,” she said and climbed
in.
“Right!” he said, climbing in right
behind her.
Chapter 8: A Baffling Case
Detective Sergeant Michael
Barraclough was a big man. In his early thirties, what used to be
solid muscle was just beginning to turn to flab but, in his usual,
easy-going way, he was happy to let it. Ten years ago, he had been
a formidable forward on the Divisional rugby team. Even now, he was
the kind of man you wouldn’t pick a fight with in a pub.
Fortunately for everyone around him, Barraclough was one of the
most easy-going of men and not one of his colleagues had ever seen
him lose his temper.
Tonight, he was working the
graveyard shift again. As a lifelong bachelor and dedicated police
officer, he was happy to do more than his share of unsocial hours
and let his mates see their families and friends a bit more often.
He was a friendly, sociable man and the relative solitude of the
night-shift sometimes got him down.
In fact, just after 11:30 pm, he
was thinking of wandering down to the canteen to see if there was
anyone around for a chat, when he received the call from uniform to
say there had been a break-in at Steiner's in the city. Pleased to
have something interesting to do, he beamed at the telephone. "Good
on ya, mate," he told the voice on the phone. "Any arrests?"
"Oh you'll love this, mate. We
bagged Doug McKinnock and Nick Phillipousos, both armed and
equipped."
"You got Douggie Mack!" Barraclough
was impressed. "Was anybody hurt?"
"No. That's the queer thing about
it. They were both out cold when we found them. They're awake now
but they look real crook."
"Where are they?"
"On their way in to the hospital.
The paramedics here couldn't see anything wrong with them."
"I hope your blokes are keeping an
eye on them. I've been chasing that bastard McKinnock all over
Brisbane since he was a 15-year-old thug robbing grocery stores for
beer money."
"I don't think they’re up to making
a run for it." The voice hesitated. "They've said some funny stuff,
Mike."
"Don't worry about that. I'll soon
have the bastards talking straight. Look, try to stop everyone
trampling all over the crime scene quite as much as they usually do
and I'll be there in five minutes.” He sighed happily. “What a
night this is turning out to be! Just tell me there’s a beautiful
woman involved and I’m going straight to Heaven."
“Mike, mate, there’s about a dozen
beautiful women in this case already.”
Barraclough laughed heartily. “See
you in five,” he said.
-oOo-
There were still a couple of fire
service officers on the scene, along with the police forensic team
and two constables who had been assigned to guard the hole, when
Barraclough pulled up at the back of Steiner’s department store. A
four-wheel drive,
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