of the neighboring properties.
Marion's flat was tidy compared to most of the street.
Why she would choose to live in the student
area was beyond him. Street after street of unkempt houses, old
pieces of furniture scattered around the front yards. The house
next door had a hand painted sign above the door which read,
'Passion Pit' and underneath in smaller writing, 'For all your
pleasure needs'.
Very original, he thought.
Although there was no signs of life in the
entire street, he knew from experience that there would be a party
on at any of these houses on any given night, each occupant taking
a different degree course which all had different time
requirements. These parties were the stuff of legend throughout the
university world and occasionally the rest of the country. Parties
organized or not, had a way of getting out of hand in the student
area of Dunedin. Couches set on fire in the middle of the street,
riotous behavior. Whatever a decent child from a decent upbringing
needed to get out of their system before they knuckled down to
responsible jobs, they did in the six or so streets that surrounded
him.
Just recently, a roof on one of these houses
had collapsed under the weight of drunken students jumping up and
down while watching a student union endorsed keg party.
Not that it would have taken much, he
thought, looking at the houses that surrounded him.
The Landlords did not seem to put a lot of
effort into the upkeep of their investment resulting in a general
air of decay. It was the perfect environment for higher
learning.
The Masters student living in amongst the
first years though, it did not seem right somehow, most mature
students moved up in the world after the first few drunken years of
a degree. He could not see anyone in his or her right minds wanting
to study in the dead of winter in a house that most likely had no
insulation and leaked like a sieve. However, Marion might just be
making up for what she missed when she lived at home with her
mother. Who knew? He was never one to know what went on in a
female's mind.
He looked around at the nearby houses;
students occupied every one of them, a whole subculture living in a
fish tank for all to see. It was almost a tourist attraction.
He had heard somewhere that Otago University
was the oldest university establishments in New Zealand, first
situated in the Exchange area at the other end of the city,
predating the current buildings that were over 130 years old.
One of the downfalls of being such an old
establishment, he thought, was the students have had a long and
rich history of trouble making, each new induction trying to outdo
the last, trying to come up with bigger and better ways to get into
trouble, future leaders of society all. Trouble making should be a
degree course, he thought. He wondered if they burnt couches for
fun in the 1870's.
Feeling slightly uneasy about Marion,
Bridger returned to the police station. His head was thumping when
he walked into the claustrophobic environment of the watch-house.
An office that was the buffer zone between the public and the
clients tucked up in their concrete suites at the rear of the
station.
"Mike, how's things? You don't look to
well".
Bridger looked over at a familiar friendly
face.
"Just following up on a possible
missing girl that John Maine passed on to me Julie, how's things
with you? ”
"So, so, Mike, you know how it is when
there is more than one person in the cells. Your lot just leaves it
to poor old me to operate the front counter. It is just lucky I am
such a tolerant sort of person. The complaints I have had to deal
with this morning, you would not believe. Everybody and their dog
have something to say about last night ’ s riot in town. Sometimes I think I
should just become a proper police officer, My current pay packet
is not nearly enough to deal with all that. But I guess I'm a
little old to join now".
Bridger smiled at Julie, unsure of how to
reply. Julie Downie was the
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