Second Friday Crime–Under the Bridge (6)

April 19, 2024April 19, 2024 / lmkling / Leave a comment

Sowing and Reaping

May 1977

Private College

Lillie

She perched on the kerb waiting. The minutes stretched, ticking into what seemed to her, an eternity. Cars whizzed past. With each car that emerged around the corner, the hope—her mum’s car. That battered blue FJ Holden, had suffered many knocks in its fifteen years of life. Like me, same age and having suffered hard knocks, she thought. But cars with anonymous drivers passed by and so did her hope…until she just sat…waiting…expectations drained…waiting.

A mixture of gloom and uneasiness haunted her. It had shadowed her all day. Ever since the first period, home class, when Dee, yes, that’s right, Dee, her arch enemy, had sidled up to her and hissed, ‘He’s mine, Lillie. He’s mine. He never liked you. He likes me.’

Dee slithered into her seat; pink lips pursed in a smile. She flicked her brown mane, and then glancing at Lillie, she smirked and then rubbed her hands together. ‘Mine!’ she mimed. ‘All mine.’

Lillie imagined Dee at that moment morphing from the budding model she was into a female form of Gollum, bent on possessing the ring offered by her latest conquest—Danny. Why else was Dee gloating?

*[Photo 1: Gargoyle, Notre Dame, Paris © L.M. Kling 1998]*

Lillie’s heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. A drop of rain plopped on the pavement and sizzled. Lillie sighed. She’d seen him—Danny—that morning. Lofty, blonde hair tousled, framing his high cheekbones, strong jaw and his face all tanned. But Danny hadn’t seen her. He never saw her.

On the way back from chapel, Danny had been walking behind her and she’d worried about her uniform. Was her dress hitched up in her regulation stockings? Autumn and the school demanded girls wear the winter uniform with the awful scratchy woollen skirt. The month of May in Australia, that day, hot and all steamed up, clouds billowing with purple bellies, threatening a storm, but not before all the students at College were fried having to wear their blazers as well as their uniforms woven in wool. The principal threatened the punishment of suspension if they shed any part of their school attire.

Plop! Another drop. A rumble of thunder.

*[Photo 2: Storm threatening © L.M. Kling 2023]*

During the day, her usual foes added to her discomfort. She was already hot, sweaty, and itchy, and then they had to weigh in. On the way to English class, Dee and her clutch of fiends attacked from behind. They threw verbal abuse; the usual “stones” of “loser”, “dog” and “no one wants you, Lil”.

Lillie fixed her eyes ahead even as the heat rose to her cheeks. She trod up the stairs to Dee chanting, ‘Poor Lil, poor Lil, what a dill.’

As Lillie turned the corner of the stairs, she glanced down. Danny leaned against the rail. Dee sidled up to him and pointed. ‘Hey look! She’s got a hole in her stocking. Poor Lil, poor Lil. Too poor to buy new stockings, Lil.’

Dee laughed and her gang joined in.

Lillie turned and continued plodding up the stairs.

‘Charge!’ Dee yelled.

At her command, Lillie quickened her pace. She knew what was coming. The thudding, the cries and the horde as her foes surged upon her. They crowded in and jostled her. Big beefy Twisty jammed her into the lockers and then bumbled down the corridor.

As Lillie straightened herself, Dee strode up to her and poked her. ‘He’s mine, understand?’ She then waved her hand in front of her nose. ‘Phew! You stink! B.O.!’

Danny lingered an arm’s length from Dee, and as she minced into English class, she blew him a kiss. Lillie’s stomach churned, and with her gaze riveted to the floor, she followed Dee into class. Her scalp prickled with the sense that the eyes of every class member had set upon her. Her orthodontic braces took on astronomical proportions and her pigtails drooped like greasy strips of seaweed.

*[Photo 3: Seaweed Sunset © L.M. Kling 2001]*

Then Scripture class. Just her luck! Lillie picked Dee’s name out of the Encouragement Box. So, she had to find a verse from the Bible to encourage Dee. Dee? What sort of blessing could Lillie bestow on her worst enemy? The girl who had everything—popularity, beauty, and a boyfriend.

Lillie opened her Bible and picked out the first verse that caught her attention. She wrote down the verse from Galatians 6:7: “…for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” She plopped the note for Dee back into the box. From what she could tell, Dee seemed happy with her note, if not mildly miffed by the message.

As she sat on the kerb waiting, Lillie reflected on the verse she received. Matthew 5:3: “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” She nodded and mused, That’d be right, Dee had me. Still, it does say I’m blessed.

That odd pair of siblings, Milo Katz and his younger sister, Sharon shuffled by. Lillie curled her lip and shuddered. She sank deeper into the shadows of the school’s office entrance. Both had this peculiar awkward gait, like they were a “sandwich short of a picnic” as Fifi often said of the mentally challenged. Milo certainly was. He’d failed Year 8 twice, then been relegated to the “special class”. He was in her confirmation class at her church and attended the same youth group. For some reason, Lillie had no idea why, he’d set his romantic sights on her, despite Lillie telling him more than once, that they could only be friends.

*[Photo 4: Blessed be the burger eaters © L.M. Kling 2023]*

Then Sharon graduated from confirmation and began attending youth group. She’d taken a shine to Lillie after she was her leader at a youth South Zone camp. Now every time Lillie came to youth group, Sharon made a beeline for her and stuck to her like a clingy baby. They called her “Shatz” as Sharon’s mother called her that as a term for endearment in their native European language. Fifi joked that Lillie was Shatz’s “mother”. The other girls began avoiding Lillie. They didn’t like Shatz. Behind her back and in front of this unfortunate child, they teased her, calling her, Shatz the— (a derogatory name that rhymed with Shatz).

Lillie mused, How could a dynamo of a woman such as Mrs. Katz, leader of the ladies guild, classy dresser in league with Fifi’s mum, have borne and raised these two lame ducks? Were Mr. and Mrs. Katz first cousins? Were their offspring inbred?

A flash of lightning. A crack of thunder. Fat dollops of rain splatted on the footpath. Lillie sighed and muttered, ‘I’ll just have to risk getting laughed at. My mum’s car. What a relic! How embarrassing!’

She shrugged her bag full of books over her shoulder and sauntered to the chapel. Rain pelted down on her, and she sought refuge in an alcove of the chapel hidden behind a diosma bush. There, she drew her knees up to her chin and sniffed. The rain and then the tears had melted her mascara. Her vision blurred. She drew a soggy tissue from her blazer pocket and wiped her eyes.

The downpour stopped. Fellow students emerged from shelter and straggled along the road to the carpark where their cars or parents in their shining white Commodores awaited them.

Lillie examined her calloused knees that had broken through the holes in her stockings. When would mum be able to afford new stockings? Her parents barely scraped together the school fees. ‘We go without for your education,’ Mum says. Lillie had begun to understand how that worked in a posh school like this one. No friends, no choice but to study and get good grades…and a scholarship.

A car screeched. Expecting her mother, Lillie looked up. But it wasn’t her. But she saw them. Dee and Danny. They held hands. Dee nestled into Danny’s side as he held an umbrella over her, even though the sun now shone casting an eerie golden glow over the gum trees and oval. Lillie winced.

*[Photo 6: Love birds © L.M. Kling 2023]*

The couple perched on the chain fence where they swung back and forth and whispered into each other’s ears. Lillie parted the diosma bush. She watched and cursed them as wrapped in each other’s arms they consumed each other’s lips.

‘Ugh! How could they? In public!’ Lillie muttered. ‘I hope the principal catches them and puts them on detention.’

Lillie heard a familiar roar. She stepped from the bush and strode towards the carpark.

The FJ Holden raced up the driveway, its wheels crushing the car-park’s gravel in its rush to meet Lillie. Dee and Danny remained oblivious in their passion on the chain fence. Mum’s car cut through a large puddle. Water flew high in the air and then dumped on the couple.

Dee shrieked. They stood like two drenched rats, their legs and arms spread in their sodden clothes.

Now Dee really does look like Gollum, Lillie thought. Her nemesis’ mascara streamed down her face and made her eyes look like a panda’s and hair pasted on her head.

The couple glared at the FJ Holden as it screeched to a stop in front of Lillie. She smirked as she jerked open the white door of the mostly blue car and then scrambled in.

*[Photo 7: Mum’s old car in Lillie’s mind © L.M. Kling 2010]*

‘How was your day, dear?’ Mum asked.

‘You’re late,’ Lillie snapped.

As the FJ Holden with Lillie and her mum merged with the crowd of cars on the main road, Lillie glanced back and smiled.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Mum spoke while patting her wet hair from a late shower, ‘your dad’s gone for good this time.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Just do,’ her mother snapped. ‘Stop asking questions.’

Lillie gazed out the window at the passing Morphettville Racecourse and muttered, ‘Fine, then.’

‘Oh, another thing,’ Mum added, ‘You’ll be staying at your grandmother’s tonight. I hope you don’t mind, sorry about that.’

‘What about my…?’

‘Don’t worry dear, I’ve packed a bag. You know how your gran loves to have you.’

‘It’s okay, Mum,’ Lillie sighed, ‘at least I don’t have to put up with Sven’s arc-welding all night.’

‘Sorry about the inconvenience,’ Mum rattled on, ‘it’s Sven, you see, we’re just trying to help him set up his business. And I wish you wouldn’t begrudge him of that. Show a bit of respect.’

‘Sven, it’s always about Sven,’ Lillie mumbled to the window.

Her mother rambled on about everyone is different and that her brother needs a helping hand to move forward in life, and that Mr. Edwards was doing his best to help them out.

Lillie tuned out. She uttered not a syllable the rest of the journey to her grandmother’s house near Marion Shopping Centre.

[Next chapter Friday fortnight…]

© Tessa Trudinger 2024

*Feature Photo: Autumn fruit © L.M. Kling 2024*

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,

Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.

Sometimes real life is just real life.

Check out my travel memoirs,

And escape in time and space

To Central Australia.

Click on the links:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…

Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,

And click on the link:

The Lost World of the Wends

Second Friday Crime Fiction–Under the Bridge (5)

April 5, 2024April 5, 2024 / lmkling / 2 Comments

The Thin Blue Semblance of Control

Monday, January 17, 2022, 1:00pm

Adelaide CBD Police HQ

Dan Hooper

That same Monday, also in the afternoon, DCI Dan Hooper had the option of working from home. However, being conscientious, once his little two-bedroom abode in Morphettville, became too hot, he drove the quiet roads of January in Adelaide to his office in the CBD.

He parked in his allotted government-granted car space in the adjacent carparking station and made the brief walk past the pathology department to the Adelaide Police Station.

*[Photo 1: Sea Mist Adelaide city © L.M. Kling 2020]*

After adjusting his mask, QR coding, and rubbing disinfectant on his hands, Dan took the downward steps into the open-space office area. He stopped and breathed in the refrigerated air. So good to be working in air-conditioned comfort while the rest of the city broiled through a rare day for this summer’s heat. A heat that for Adelaide, was disturbingly humid.

Somehow, the city itself seemed to be the epicentre of heat, only rivalled by Dan’s townhouse near Morphettville racecourse. His air con system blew only warm air from the outside, more of a heater than an evaporative cooler. Despite Dan’s efforts to secure an air conditioner repairer, the dearth of tradesmen at the time made the dream melt into the distant future.

‘I could see if I could fit you in, May, perhaps?’ said one such well-advertised repairer.

Dan strode to his desk and slid down into ergonomic office chair. He chuckled. Still, nothing like the heat up north in the Territory. He flicked through files on his computer. Assignments piling up and less bodies to do the work.

He missed Eloise Delany, his partner. The increasing workload had taken its toll.

Dan sighed, stretched, stood and strolled over to the coffee vending machine. ‘Right, a coffee before a slow day wading through the emails, files, maybe some follow-up phone calls…’

A computer printout over the machine announced, “COFFEE MACHINE TEMPORARILY OUT OF ORDER.”

*[Photo 2: The joys of Robot service, Halls Gap, Victoria © L.M. Kling 2023]*

Dan rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘Temporary? It’s been like this since Christmas. What’s this? Can’t get a coffee machine repairer either, I guess. January’s like that; everyone, except me, is on holidays.’ Dan had toyed with the idea of visiting his grown-up daughters in Switzerland over Christmas but decided against the venture. Apart from the expense of overseas travel at this time, he preferred the stinking heat to the cold and snow. The novelty of snow had worn off years ago. The girls had promised to visit next year when things settled down.

*[Photo 3: Snow in Switzerland on the Santis—even in summer! © L.M. Kling 2014]*

After resolving to later in the day brave the cloying heat and buy a takeaway coffee from the little café across the road, Dan once more settled in his chair. He shifted the mouse on the pad to wake up his computer. Only gone a few minutes, and already it had gone to sleep. ‘Like the rest of this town,’ Dan muttered.

After a brief flicker of the windows screen, the monitor turned an ominous shade of black. No explanation. Just black. Not ominous really. Just annoying.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Dan mumbled. ‘Worse than…’

‘Glad I’m not the only one; it was getting lonely in here with so many away and working at home,’ a voice above him spoke.

Dan swung his chair around and looked up. ‘Oh, Rory, g’day.’

‘I have a job for you, Dan.’ His boss, Rory Roberts hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. ‘Cold case. Some added information, just come through.’

Great! As if I haven’t got enough on my plate, Dan thought and then said, ‘Which one?’ he knew his reputation for solving mysterious cases preceded him. ‘Missing persons? Alien abductions?’

‘Why don’t we nip over to the café for a coffee, and I can tell you what I have in mind.’

‘Why not? I can do with a coffee.’

*[Photo 4: Coffee time © L.M. Kling 2023]*

In the cool climes of a café just on Mill Street behind the Supreme Court, Dan and his boss sat at a booth facing each other.

Dan sipped his cappuccino. ‘So, Rory, what have you got for me?’

‘Well, Dan, I don’t know if it will amount to anything, but I had a call from the public. I think they’ve been holding onto this information for more than forty years.’

‘Death-bed confession?’

‘Something like that.’ Rory spooned froth from his cup and licked his teaspoon. ‘You remember a certain Walter Katz? I was checking the files, and your name came up. As a young constable you attended the scene.’

‘Ah, I remember. My first call out.’ Dan laughed. ‘The chubby guy wrapped around the Stobie pole. I’ll never forget that. And losing my breakfast.’

‘Yep, that’s the one.’

‘I thought it was a case of misadventure. Motorbike, showing off, riding too fast with all that gravel down there on the Esplanade at Sellicks…’

*[Photo 5: Sellicks Beach © L.M. Kling 1984]*

‘There’s been a development,’ Rory said. ‘A panel beater who was working at Lonsdale at the time, had some religious experience. Converted, or whatever they do these days in the church, and he felt that he needed to get this thing off his chest.’

‘Right. Hardly a challenge if he did it.’

‘He did the panel beating. On a red Ford Falcon XB 1976 model.’

‘Cool. Go on.’

‘What’s remarkable is that he kept the details of the job. He was meticulous in that way. And what troubled him was the blood he found on the driver’s side headlight.’

‘And he never came forward with that information?’ Dan said and took another sip of his coffee.

‘Until today. At the time, the lad whose car he was fixing said he’d hit a roo and of course, you know how often lads hit animals out in the country, he believed him. End of story.’ Rory took a slurp of his coffee and continued. ‘The thing was, it was only when his wife managed to hit a few roos writing off her car on a trip back from Queensland, that he began to re-visit his repairs on the Ford. You see, this guy was meticulous. He even took photographs, before and after, which back then was rare, considering how expensive film was. So, when he found the file and compared the damage, he also noticed a streak of black paint on the car’s right side. And of course, he examined the photo of the car damage and said he was sure that the Ford had hit another car, or a motorbike, not a roo.’

‘Interesting, I’ll look into it.’ Dan rubbed his hands. ‘I wonder if the Ford Falcon still exists. They go for quite a bit nowadays.’

‘Good, I’ll email the details of the accident to you.’ Rory smiled. ‘I’ve teamed you up with Dee. Hope you don’t mind. I know she can be difficult.’

Dan sighed, and said with a tone of sarcasm, ‘Rory, you’ve made my day.’

*[Photo 6: Happy Kangaroo, Aldinga Scrub © L.M. Kling 2023]*

Back in the office, having “borrowed” his absent neighbour’s desk and computer, Dan drank a second coffee in a foam takeaway cup. He gleaned mechanic Warick Wilke’s statement. He peered at the address given. ‘Kapunda,’ he sighed. ‘A long drive, but it should be worth it.’

Dan felt slightly awkward at the thought. He and Dee had history…

His mobile vibrated. He stared at the time displayed, five o’clock and swiped to accept call.

‘Hi Dan, it’s Eloise.’

‘Hi Eloise, how are you enjoying your holiday?’

‘Painting,’ Eloise said, ‘I love it.’

‘But you miss the excitement of the force?’

‘No. Actually, this is not a social call.’

‘Oh.’

‘You see, while painting with my friend, Fifi, she shared with me some troubling information. I just wondered if you could investigate it.’

Dan inhaled. ‘Let it go, Eloise.’

*[Photo 7: Autumn vineyard, Barossa Valley © L.M. Kling 2017]*

‘No, I’m serious. The story she told me has been bothering me. I know I can’t do much now. But I just thought, you could put some feelers out. I’m sorry, I know you are busy and all that. But…’

‘You just want to help.’

‘Yes, you see my friend Fi’s father went missing forty-four years ago. 1978, to be exact. She said, that a few years later, in 1980 her and her friends came upon a corpse. Fi was sure it was her father and her friend Lillie said she’d reported the finding to the police. But, Dan, what worries me, is that nothing was ever done. Nobody ever contacted her, nor the family,’ Eloise explained.

‘Well, it was the ‘80’s.’

‘I know, explains how so many people could go missing and never a result. But, still, I feel for my friend and want resolution for her. You understand, don’t you?’

Dan exhaled. He wanted to say, Why don’t you just come back, Eloise? But he refrained. He knew she needed this time to rest and heal from burnout. ‘Look, Eloise, you understand that I’m terribly busy, just got another cold case to handle today. Oh, and I’m working with Dee. But I’ll see what I can do.’

‘I pity you, but anyway, thank you.’ Eloise breathed. ‘The MISPA’s name is Percy Wilbur Edwards born 1925. Went missing January 1978.’

Eloise proceeded to give the details of Percy’s beachside suburb address at the time and what Fifi recalled of his movements the day he disappeared. She also conveyed Fifi’s vague directions where they had seen the corpse and the date that had occurred.

Dan nodded and concluded the call with the words, ‘I’ll look into it.’

Intending to call this Warick Wilke, Dan picked up the phone, the landline. Then he placed the receiver down. ‘Darn! I must go with Dee.’

© Tessa Trudinger 2024

*Feature Photo: Proud Owner of a red Charger © courtesy of L.M. Kling 1989

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,