Read Online The Bear Pit by Jon Cleary - Free Book Online

doesn’t work here?”
    â€œNo, he has his own one-man business—he’s a carpenter and general handyman. I can get him on his mobile—”
    â€œNo, we don’t want you to do that—”
    She frowned yet again; then her eyes opened wide. “It’s serious, isn’t it? What’s he done, for God’s sake? Jesus—” She turned; a young Asian girl stood in the doorway of the hall. “Not now, Ailsa—not now!”
    â€œMr. June is on the phone—”
    â€œI’ll take it,” said Gail Lee and moved quickly to the doorway, pushed the girl into the hall and disappeared.
    Mrs. Masson was silent for a long moment. A cicada started up, the first Malone had heard this summer; it was like a drill against the ear. Then Mrs. Masson seemed to gulp, as if she were drowning in disappointment. “What’s he done? Are you going to tell me?”
    â€œHow much do you know about him? How much has he told you about himself before he met you?”
    She walked slowly, almost blindly, across to a backless bench under one of the trees, the seat where Fred had sat in his exclusion. She sat down and Malone sat beside her, straddling the bench. Inside the hall a game had been started, the children laughing like a mocking chorus while the cicada had been joined by what sounded like a hundred others.
    â€œHe came from Melbourne, he said he’d been married before but it broke up after a couple of years. He has a mother down there, but I’ve never met her.”
    â€œHas he been a good—partner? A good husband?”
    â€œI’ve been married before. John is twice as good as the legal husband I had. I love him—does that answer your question? Now tell me what he’s done.”
    She looked at him pleadingly, but he turned away as Gail came out of the hall. “Mr. June is on his way. He’ll be five minutes—he’s coming from Lane Cove.”
    â€œWhat did you tell him?”
    â€œI said there was some trouble with one of the children.” She looked at Mrs. Masson’s angry frown. “I’m sorry—”
    The frown now seemed to be permanent, like a scar. “For Christ’s sake, tell me what he’s done. You come here, upsetting everyone and everything—”
    â€œWe haven’t done that, Mrs. Masson,” said Malone quietly. “We’ve upset you and I’m sorry about that. But no one else. Just let’s wait till Mr. June gets here.”
    They sat, while the laughter and screams came out of the hall and a magpie carolled in the jacaranda above them and a couple of mynahs chattered at it to get lost. The cicadas suddenly shut up and the other sounds seemed to increase. Then abruptly Mrs. Masson stood up, looked at her watch, said, “It’s time for their morning snack,” and walked, almost ran, into the hall.
    â€œIt’s never easy, is it?” said Gail.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œTelling them what they don’t know. Don’t want to know.”
    â€œNever.”
    Then two minutes later the van drew up in the street outside. A man got out and came hurrying into the yard. Malone and Gail crossed from the bench to stand in his way as he headed for the hall doorway. “Mr. June?”
    He pulled up sharply. “Yes. Are you the child’s parents? What’s happened?”
    â€œNo, Mr. June, we’re not.” Malone produced his badge. “Can we have a word? Over here under the trees.”
    June hesitated, then followed them. There was nothing threatening about him, though Malone had not been sure what to expect. He was medium height, running a little to fat, with a round pleasant face and thinning black hair that needed a cut. He was dressed in overalls that, with inserts showing, had been let out at the seams; a pair of gold-rimmed glasses hung on a string round his neck. His left hand had the top joint of the middle finger