Chapter 20: Strangers in the Night
Sally’s house looked deserted from the road but the two women approached it slowly, carefully, Roxy’s heart beating wildly through her shirt.
‘Shouldn’t we call Chief Butler?’ Sally whispered.
‘By the time he gets here the intruder’ll be gone,’ Roxy whispered back, stopping by the front gate and pulling Sally down to crouch behind the thick fencing that encircled the house. ‘And if he’s not, their flashing police cars will scare him off.’
‘Sounds okay to me!’
‘Shhh! This might be our only chance to get a glimpse of him. Now, where’s the part of the door you can see through?’
Through the gaps in the fence they had a clear enough view of Sally’s front door, and she pointed to a thin strip of bubble glass to the left of the door almost obscured by a palm tree planted just in front.
‘You can only see through it when the sun’s going down,’ she whispered. ‘It’s too dark now.’
‘Oh great,’ Roxy sighed. She had hoped the culprit was still hunched there, waiting for Sally’s return, and that she would somehow recognize the shape. Tall and skinny sounded like one of many possibilities, and already faces were flashing through her mind: Fabian Musgrave and his wife, Sofia, both fitted that description, as did William Musgrave and even Beattie’s lawyer, Ronald Featherby. Now that the glass was no longer transparent, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. If they entered, they might both be killed. She tried to think, to work out what to do.
‘Look,’ Sally was saying beside her, ‘let’s just—’
‘Shhh! What was that?’ They both listened for several seconds and Sally was about to speak again when Roxy threw her hand up to her mouth. There was a definite rustling sound coming from the side of the house, somewhere near the boundary bushes, and getting closer. Roxy reached for the small alarm in her handbag and pulled it out, ready to let it off if need be. They waited another few seconds and then Roxy’s heart did a triple somersault as she spotted someone clambering out of the bushes and onto the road, not more that six meters away. She heard Sally gasp beside her.
‘Who the bloody hell is that?’ the young woman asked, her voice more angry now than terrified.
‘I can’t tell!’ Roxy whispered. The man was clearly wearing some sort of hood and it was obscuring his face. ‘Just lay low.’
They watched as the figure stood up and began walking briskly in the opposite direction. From where they were hunched neither woman recognized the shape, although Roxy felt there was a trace of familiarity in that walk. In any case, Sally had been right. It was definitely a man, and he was tall and slim.
Roxy turned to Sally and put both arms on her shoulders. ‘Listen Sally, you run straight to the police station and tell them in which direction he went and give them a description. For now, do not mention me. Got it?’
The young woman gulped loudly and nodded her head. ‘But what are you going to do?’
‘I’m following him.’
‘You can’t! You could be killed!’
‘Listen, Sally, it’s the only way. Otherwise we’ll lose him. Now quickly, go!’ She gave the girl a forceful shove and watched as she ran off back down the footpath in the opposite direction. Then breathing deeply, Roxy turned, stepped out on to the footpath and followed the intruder.
It was a dark night but Roxy could still see the man’s thin figure several blocks up. He was walking briskly and she had to jog a little to keep up. At the end of the street he turned around, as though suspecting something and Roxy threw herself behind a tree, hoping he had not seen her. He hesitated, then, looking both right and left, crossed the street and headed back towards town. She waited several seconds before following after him.
Macksland was almost a ghost town when they approached it, only a few restaurants still open, the shops and other services closed long before. Roxy checked her watch. It was nearly 8:00 p.m. The man, still unrecognizable from such a distance, was walking in a definite direction towards Roxy’s hotel. She watched as he strode swiftly along the street and then gasped with surprise when, pausing briefly to look around him, he pulled open the door to the main reception and strode confidently in.
Chief Butler was just sitting down to a bowl of hot apple pie and ice-cream when his Deputy called and, reluctantly, he took the phone from his inquisitive wife and boomed, ‘This better be bloody good!’
‘It is sir,’ the young policeman stuttered back. ‘It’s Sally Duffy. She says there’s a prowler at her place.’
Butler sat up straight. ‘Did you check the place out?’
‘Yes sir. No one sir, but the place was done over pretty good. It’s a right mess.’
‘Anything stolen?’
‘Not that we could see but Sal’ will check it out later. She did spot the crim’, sir.’
‘She did!?’
‘Yep but not a good description, I’m afraid. He headed into town so I’m on my way with her now.’
‘Right, good. Look, be alert, okay? Cruise the main streets, see if anyone looks suspicious. I’ll see you down in front of the station in 10 minutes, got it?’
‘Got it, sir.’ They hung up and the police chief frowned. It looked like the city chick might have been right after all. He pushed his dessert aside and grabbed his coat. ‘Sorry, love,’ he called out to his wife, raising one solid hand to stifle her inevitable questioning. ‘If there’s anything to report you’ll be the first to know, I promise. I’ll be home later.’
By the time Chief Butler reached the police station, his deputy and Sally were both inside warming themselves up with a cup of hot chocolate. They were laughing about something but quickly straightened up when the Chief walked in.
‘Good evening Sally,’ the police Chief said as he took a seat beside her. ‘So tell me what you saw.’
Confidently, Sally related her story, careful to omit any mention of Roxy Parker.
‘So let me get this straight,’ Butler said, peeling his coat off and perching up against a desk. ‘You got home at about 6:00 p.m., found someone prowling in your house and you’re only just telling us about it now?’
Sally’s throat drained dry. ‘Well, I waited and watched, you see. To see who he was, what he was doing.’
‘You watched for an hour and a half?’
‘Um ... well.’
‘Come on, Sally, what’s the story? I want the real version this time.’
Sally’s eyes flickered across both policemen. Dougie looked worried for her but she could tell Butler meant business. Reluctantly, she said, ‘Well, I went and got Roxy Parker.’
‘Roxy Parker?’ Dougie cried, clearly offended. ‘The Sydney chick?’
‘Yes. I didn’t know where to turn.’
‘Why didn’t you come straight to us?’ Sally blinked quickly. She realized now that she should have, she told them, but there was something capable about the ghostwriter, something that made her seem so trustworthy. She tried to explain this to the police chief but he waved her off.
‘Okay, okay, so you both went back and checked out the house?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that’s when you spotted someone in the brush? So where is Miss Parker now?’
Again Sally hesitated. Roxy would clearly not be pleased with her. ‘She followed him.’
‘She what!?’ The deputy was almost beside himself. ‘Who does she think she is?!’
Chief Butler raised a sturdy hand to silence him. ‘You didn’t see either of them anywhere? No sign at all?’
‘No sir.’
He grunted and then reached for his coat again. ‘Come on then, we’d better go and find her.’
He led the way back outside and the three of them piled into his police car. They drove directly to the Shearer’s Hotel and, motioning for Sally to stay in the lobby, the police Chief began ascending the staircase to Roxy’s room with his deputy following fast behind. He located her room and knocked loudly on it. There was no answer and so he knocked again. Again no a
nswer and he was turning to leave when the lock unclicked and the door swung open to reveal Roxy smiling brightly on the other side.
‘Where is he?’ Chief Butler boomed, stepping into the room. ‘Did you see where he went?’
‘Who?’ she asked as innocently as she could muster and then noticed Sally cowering near the top of the stairs shaking her head apologetically.
‘Don’t even try to give me your lip young woman—’
‘Oh, you mean the prowler?’
‘More than a bloody prowler,’ Butler roared. ‘He broke into Sally’s house and turned the place over!’
‘Really? It’s been messed up?’ Roxy’s face flooded with confusion.
‘Damn straight it has. Now where did he go?’
‘I don’t know, honestly.’ She sat down on the bed and looked up at the policemen as calmly as she could muster. ‘I followed him as far as town and then lost him.’
‘Lost him?’
‘Yes. I think he might have dashed into one of the restaurants up the road a bit. He just vanished.’
Chief Butler eyed the woman for some time, trying to decide what to do. He turned back to his deputy. ‘Okay, let’s go. I’ll check out the bowlo and the Chinese Restaurant, you check the Speak Easy if it’s still open. We’ll meet back in front of the post office in ten.’ He turned back to Roxy who was sitting cross-legged, inspecting her nails as though disinterested. ‘As for you young lady: I can’t believe I’m bloody saying this but I want you back at the station first thing in the morning. Crikey, I thought we were rid of you! Sally’s place has been trashed and it’s clear we’re dealing with a very dangerous criminal. You’re a blasted fool to be chasing after him like that. That’s our job, got it?!’
She indicated that she did and watched them leave, dragging Sally reluctantly behind them. Roxy then jumped back inside her room and relocked the door.
‘You can come out now,’ she said softly and watched as the tall, skinny man uncurled himself from underneath the bed where he had hidden.