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

missing.
    â€œWhat’s the charge?”
    â€œNone so far. We just thought you could help us with our enquiries.”
    â€œShit, that old one!”
    â€œYou’ve heard it before, Mr. August?”
    For a moment there was no expression at all, as if he were alone without thought. Then abruptly his face clouded, he rolled his lips over his teeth. “I gave that name away nine years ago—”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI wanted to make a new start. I’ve done that—”
    Then Mrs. Masson came out again into the yard; hurrying, as if running away from the children. She rushed straight at August, grabbed his left hand, stood holding it as if he were another of her charges. “What’s it about, John? What do they want?”
    â€œThey just want to ask me some questions. I—I saw something the other day—I didn’t tell you about it—”
    â€œWhat?”
    He was a practised liar; he had been living a lie for nine years. “A couple fighting—they just want me to tell them what I saw—”
    â€œSomeone’s dead? They said they were from Homicide—” One could almost see her mind racing, she was defending—what? She looked at Malone. “Is someone dead?”
    â€œYes. We’ll just take Mr.—Mr. June back to our office. He’ll be back here within an hour.”
    â€œWhy can’t you ask him the questions here?” She was still clinging to his hand. She’s a mother, Malone thought, but where are her own kids?
    Then the children came spraying out of the hall, a yellow-smocked torrent. Justin, Jared, Jaidene, Alabama, Dakota, Wombat Rose: even Fred joined the circle round the adults. Twenty or thirty other children milled around. They all stared at the adults, innocent as cherubs but ears as wide as devils’. Wombat Rose looked up at Malone and winked at him with both eyes.
    â€œ Come on, Mr. June. We’ll have you back here in an hour.”
    â€œI’ll come with you, John—”
    He took his hand from hers, put it against her cheek. “It’ll be all right, sweetheart. Don’t worry , I’ll be back, it’s okay .”
    It was difficult to tell if he was trying to tell her something. Was there some secret between them? But she just looked at him blankly, shook her head as if to deny that everything was okay.
    Malone, Gail Lee and August/June went out of the yard, trailed by a dozen kids as far as the gate. Mrs. Masson still stood under the jacaranda tree; the tiny splurge of yellow smocks leaked away from her, leaving her high and dry and alone.
    August looked back and waved with the hand that was his mark.
    â€œI’ll follow you,” he said, moving towards his van.
    â€œNo, lock it, John. We’ll get you back here.”
    â€œThat’s a promise?” For a moment something like a smile hovered around his small mouth.
    â€œNo, John. Depends what you have to tell us.”
    Gail drove the unmarked police car and Malone sat in the back with August. They had been travelling for ten minutes before August broke his silence. “Now we’re away from Lynne, tell me why you’ve picked me up.”
    â€œWe’re questioning a list of clients from the Sewing Bee. Your name was on the list.”
    He laughed. “The fat and the thin, a list of all those needing alterations? Come on—” Then he sobered, looked quizzically at Malone. “This hasn’t got something to do with what happened to the Premier last night?”
    â€œWhat makes you think it has?”
    He shook his head. “You don’t catch me like that. Yeah, I was at that place, the alterations centre, what’s it called? The Sewing Bee. I remember standing at the window, having a look at the place across George Street, Olympic Tower. What I’ve read, what was on radio this morning, Hans Vanderberg was standing at the front of the hotel when he was shot, right? He was