The Dunbar Case(36)
‘I’m not in Missing Persons.’
‘Could you ask around?’
‘What’s in it for me?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? I don’t suppose you’ve got a name or a date.’
‘No.’
‘I don’t know why I don’t arrest you on suspicion of every fucking thing I can think of. Stay out of trouble.’
How many times had I heard that, and from people who thought better of me than Watson.
~ * ~
I met Twizell at a cafe attached to a squash club in Mayfield. He was wearing the appropriate clothes and glowed with cheerfulness and the virtue gained from hard exercise. He’d had his hair cut stylishly and looked years younger than he had in gaol.
‘Haven’t played for yonks,’ he said, ‘but I jogged and did fifty push-ups a day in the slam and I’ve kept my fitness, more or less.’
I was tempted to suggest he might care to go caving but I resisted. That was something he didn’t know I knew about and I was happy to leave it that way.
‘Good for you,’ I said. ‘Joined here, have you?’
‘Thinking about it. Not sure I’m staying in these parts.’
That spoke volumes. He had plans.
‘I’m having a decaf cap, what about you?’
‘Long black.’
‘Toxic.’
He got up and went to the counter to order. He swaggered, only word for it. He chatted to the barista and allowed her to see his sinewy arms and the biceps that stretched the short sleeves of his shirt. He came back with the coffee, wooden stirrers and a handful of sugar and artificial sweetener sachets. He poured two of the artificial sweeteners into his mug and stirred vigorously.
‘Now, to business,’ he said. ‘You want to see Granny’s cottage, right?’
‘Don’t play games with me, Johnnie—’
‘Jack.’
‘Don’t play games. There’s something I’m looking for. If you can help me find it, good. If not, just get on with your life and good luck to you.’
The affable manner vanished. ‘Listen, I’ve spent hard time with other people calling all the shots. Well, that’s over now and I’m taking charge of things, starting with my name and my health and my bloody future. I’ve got a clean slate. I don’t owe anybody anything.’
His eyes were blazing and his knuckles were white as he gripped his mug. He was irrational, overreacting to a couple of mild remarks. A violent mood swing. It was a new factor to take into account and not a welcome one. I drank my coffee and didn’t speak, allowing time for the storm to pass. He fiddled with the torn sachets as he struggled to get himself under control.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘Sorry, I’m still getting used to this.’ He spread his arms and almost knocked over a child who was passing. He spun around and steadied the child, who yelled. A woman bustled up and knocked Twizell’s hand away.
‘Don’t you dare touch her.’
‘I was just. . . fuck you!’
The woman stalked away, pulling the still upset child behind her. Twizell slumped in his chair.
‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘I know it’s tough inside but outside’s no picnic either. There’s a hundred and one things to piss you off every day if you let them. Let’s focus on something you can do. Is there any point in going to your grandparents’ house?’
He sucked in a deep breath. He had gone pale and it took a little time for colour to return to his face. When he spoke his voice was thin and lacking his previous confident tone. ‘I dunno. It was a tumbledown ruin last time I saw it. But I know there were lots of hiding places in it. Grandma used to hide things from Grandpa.’
‘What sort of things?’
‘Books and that. He used to get cranky about her reading all the time when he wanted her to be working in the vegie patch or bottling fruit and looking after him. He tore up some of her books once and she used to hide them from him.’
‘What else?’
‘Oh, papers and bills and stuff. He used to throw bills away but Grandma’d keep them and save up to pay them. He was an irresponsible old bugger.’
‘I thought you reacted when I mentioned a family Bible.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes.’
‘Coulda been something like that. I didn’t take much notice. Me and Rob used to dig the books out of the hiding places just to watch Grandpa do his block.’
‘You sound like a prize pair.’
‘We were just kids.’