Courting Lamara Pt. 03

"Do you have to go into the station to get your gun?"

"No, they've signed a firearm out for me."

"Do they have a suspect yet?"

"Probably but I can't say because they've still got to interview him first," I grabbed the Coke and drained the glass, "hell of an afterglow."

"It's fine," she chuckled, "something to put in the diary," she rose, "but we'll see each other again."

I left a few minutes later and she kissed me at the door but as I drove out to Samantha's house my mind was in a whirlpool of emotion, a combination of the adrenaline of a call out and the drama of the last hour or so.

***

Templestowe is what I would class as a cultural wasteland. It may seem pretty to visitors but it has nothing of any tourist value there unless you know what you're looking for. It's an upmarket suburb with its fair share of large two-storey houses fighting for dominance, it had a Mediterranean vibe for years. Italian and Greek migrants worked long hours for years before finally being able to buy a house in Templestowe. For them at least it has some sentimental value but for the rest of us the only reason to go there is to visit someone or pass through it on the way to somewhere else.

I had a good reason for going there that night, to meet Eddie at Samantha's place and I had to admit I felt sorry for the residents of the quiet suburban street. Their peaceful Saturday evening had been shattered an hour or so earlier when a gunman or gunmen opened fire on a house. Two police cars were parked out the front and the ambulance had just driven past me, its emergency lights and siren off. I could see Eddie out the front talking to Janis, a policewoman I'd known for years.

"Nice night for it," Eddie greeted me with a curt nod and a tight smile.

"Yeah," I glanced up briefly at the overcast sky, "it was until I got the phone call."

"I was just about to go home," he led me to his car, "the boss tells me you need a firearm."

"Yeah, I was with a friend when I got the call."

"It's just babysitting duties," he opened his boot and took out a pistol and holster, "we'll be here all night while they track down Serbian Steve, he's the prime suspect."

"Thanks to a bleeding heart lawyer," I slipped my arms into the shoulder holster, "we had him safe and sound behind bars until yesterday."

"One of these days it'll be one of them in the fucking firing line," he handed me a radio.

"How is she?"

"Shaken up, someone was looking after her. She just got up to go to the toilet when they opened fire on the house," he nodded at the windows, "she'll need new windows and probably a couch too."

"So, why try to take her out?" I wondered out loud as we made our way back to the house.

"She was the only witness not in protection," he replied, "but Serbian Steve was never known for his intelligence," he slowed as the radio squawked

I turned my radio on to listen to the chatter, it was a domestic in progress and I thanked my lucky stars I wasn't still in uniform, domestic calls were always unpredictable. Samantha was sitting with the policewoman who'd been talking to Eddie a few minutes earlier. It was the first time I'd seen her in the flesh, I'd been out on calls when she was brought in to identify Barrows. She straightened up and the policewoman rose.

"I'll be around for another few minutes but my colleagues will be here all night," she nodded at me, "how's it going?"

"Oh, pretty good, so far," I managed a smile, "hiya, Samantha. How are you?"

"Pretty shaken up," she replied.

"I understand, but we're here all night, we'll be outside. Have you got someone to stay inside with you?"

"My sister is on her way over, they said that was all right."

"And are you able to stay there the night or is that too much of a hassle?"

"I'd rather stay here, unless it's going to complicate things?"

"It shouldn't tonight but I'd advise you to try and find other accommodation for the time being, we need to track down the culprits," Eddie responded.

She shot him a tired look but didn't reply. The policewoman nodded at me and I followed her out for a chat.

"I was telling your colleague that we've checked the house and the backyard, no sign that anyone other than her has been there."

The radio squawked again and we both stopped to listen to yet another domestic call.

"What is it about domestics?" I wondered aloud, "can't people just fight without involving us?"

She wasn't replying however as her partner signalled her and then she nodded at me.

"That's us, we're responding, it's ten minutes away."

I merely nodded and watched her walk away and then went back inside.

Samantha's older sister, Gemma arrived some five minutes later and she was angry that her sister hadn't received the same level of protection as other witnesses against Barrows. It was whilst I was trying to explain that our budget didn't allow us to protect everyone that Eddie came racing into the house, he was as white as a sheet.

"There's been an incident, I have to go now but they want you to stay here."

"No worries," I nodded at Gemma and Samantha, "bear with me," I followed him outside to hear the news that the domestic dispute Janis and her partner had just been called to had turned deadly.

"She's down and her partner is wounded but Serbian Steve is critically wounded or dead."

"Go," I nodded at him, "I'll call to let them know I'm still here."

It's the worst call a cop can get because it always precedes frantic activity. Every cop car in the area was in attendance that night. I listened to the chatter on an earpiece and made sure I'd chambered a live round just in case some of his associates were en route to finish what he'd failed to do.

As if my job wasn't hard enough, I had Gemma demanding to know why her sister hadn't been better protected. Not even explaining that there'd been a shooting nearby could settle her down. It just made her worse when she learned via the internet that a cop had been killed. She came out with a comment about the cops only looking after her own.

In the end it was Samantha who finally spoke up.

"Enough, please stop."

"I'm just saying," she replied.

"I know, I know but she's here to protect us, so just let her do her job."

I breathed a sigh of relief and moved to the front door just in time to see Byres' car pull into the driveway, he was on the phone to someone and I stepped outside and waited for him to get out of the car.

He looked as if he'd aged five years that night, his eyes shifted as he looked past me.

"Janis didn't make it, she died on the way to the hospital. Danny is in emergency and he might pull through if we're lucky."

"Fuck," I swore, "fuck."

"Yeah that just about sums up tonight," he turned to look at the shattered glass, "we should've put more people here, if he'd run into officers here he might have gone further afield."

"I thought he had a curfew?"

"He did," he replied, "but he ripped the ankle bracelet off and by the time we knew about it he'd been here," he nodded at the window.

"His ex missus lives not far from here, apparently. He went there and she called the cops and he went off his tree and fired a gun. The neighbours called the emergency number and the rest you know already."

"How's Eddie?"

"He's being taken back to the station for a debrief, he was the one who fired the fatal shot."

"Jesus," I sucked in my breath.

"All right," his eyes shifted, "let's get her moved to some place where we've got protection."

"Her sister's in there now, not a happy Jan."

"Can't please everyone," he rolled his eyes, "let's do this."

There's something to be said for the English accent. Perhaps it's the novelty or maybe it's that stiff upper lip calmness but Byres' English accent seemed to settle everyone down when he explained that due to a swiftly developing situation we had to move her into a hotel. Her house was a crime scene now and forensics would be here soon. I was to stand guard here until they arrived and a car would be on its way to take her to a hotel.

For the next fifteen minutes there was a flurry of activity as Samantha packed a suitcase. The news that Janis had been gunned down had shocked Gemma into silence and thankfully she disappeared into the bedroom to help her pack. By the time she emerged from the bedroom she looked a little solemn.

"I'm sorry about before," she looked at me, "I shouldn't have said all that."

"It's fine," I replied, "it's understandable."

She and Samantha left not long afterwards, leaving me with Byres.

"What a fucking mess," he shook his head, "heads are going to roll over this fuck up."

I didn't reply to that in case his head was one of those on the chopping block and busied myself out the front of the house marking the shell casings. Someone had emptied a semi automatic pistol at the house along with several shotgun shells. Byres came out to look for himself, he had his phone to his ear as he spoke to someone.

"I know," he grumbled, "but this is why we ask for extra money, you can be sure I'll be putting in my report and I'm not holding back this time... okay... have a good night... what's left of it," he hung up and squinted at the shell cases.

"Fuck me, did they send an army for this poor woman? All she did was cut him off in traffic."

"Barrows was never the sharpest tool in the shed but that's what happens when you get high off your own product. How the fuck did he know where she lived?"

"It's only a guess but I'd check her social media pages before we start looking internally," he took out a packet of cigarettes and handed me one.

We stood there smoking in relative silence for a minute or so.

"So, are you still wanting to leave us?"

"Yeah, probably now more than ever," I blew out a cloud of smoke, "hate to be the one to say it, but you never know when it's your turn to go with this job."

"I'll hate losing you, but I'd be the last person to hold you back either. I could've moved into the private security business not long after I moved out here from London but here I am, with stripes on my arms and a fag in my hand," he turned to look down the street.

"Take my advice and don't look back. This job will age you the higher up the food chain you go, I used to be able to pull the birds most nights. These days I count it a good day if I can shit without pulling a sphincter," he butted the cigarette out.

"Just don't make yourself a stranger. You know where I live. I can't guarantee I'll always be there when you drop by."

"Thanks, sir," I butted my cigarette out too, "I have to admit I'd have never considered it until just recently."

"So, what brought it all on? Was it my overbearing personality?"

"Love," I replied, "I found someone I want to spend more time with but with this job I don't know how long it'd last."

"Now there's a familiar story," he cracked a wry grin, "I'm on my third marriage now, it's tough for partners, more now than ever. Take my advice and go for it, I'd throw in the towel myself but my wife only works part time and I'd never make the mortgage payments."

We talked a little more before a uniformed unit arrived with forensics and then he left me to go onto see Janis's parents. I finally called Lamara and she sounded worried.

"How are you? I saw something on the news about a cop being shot but they didn't give a name."

"That's because the next of kin haven't been informed yet," I paused, "I was only talking to her five minutes or so before it happened. She was called to a domestic that turned violent."

"Fuck," she sucked in her breath, "how're you holding up?"

"I'm okay, for now. Forensics are here picking up cartridges and this place has been sealed off but you'll read all about it in the morning," I squinted down the road at the approaching headlights and a moment later I continued.

"Gotta go, that's the press arriving now."

"I'll leave the porch light on if you need to drop in, doesn't matter if I'm asleep. Milo will wake me up, okay?"

"Thank you," I swallowed the hurt, "it all depends on how long I'm here for."

"I understand completely but the offer still stands, bye now."

I farewelled her and hung up and prepared myself for the inevitable inane questions and I wasn't wrong. Journalists have the most stupid questions. I think some of them are just frustrated cops who never made the grade, always trying to find a lead or a unique angle that will sell more papers. I just gave them the standard line. 'Shots were fired at a house and there's a possible link between this and the shooting in the next suburb but investigations are ongoing.' 'No one was injured in the shooting,' and 'we have no suspects just yet.' That doesn't stop them from trying to find a weak spot and you have to be on the alert for that. A no comment means a yes to them even if it just is a no comment. It's the way their minds work.

Thankfully though, I could pass on the message that the Chief Commissioner would be holding a press conference tomorrow morning, although it didn't stop them from trying to find a scoop but they weren't going to get anything from me. I had work to do that night and together with several other uniformed and plain clothes officers we canvassed the entire street to see what they had seen or heard earlier. The trick to interviewing witnesses is to get their accounts, leading questions are not a good idea for obvious reasons.

What we did learn when we put it all together was that there had been three people present in a dark-coloured Holden Commodore. One was the driver and there were two others, presumably gunmen and that tallied up with two different kinds of casings, the nine millimetre pistol cartridges and the shotgun shells. Several witnesses had told us they heard a blast of a shotgun as well as the sound of a gun being fired rapidly. One witness had seen the entire thing, she'd been at her front window and unseen by the occupants of the car. She became our star witness when we produced several mugshots of Serbian Steve's associates. One of the men was Dimitri, the driver, he'd been a driver for Barrows and Serbian Steve.

By the time I finished it was one in the morning and despite Lamara's offer of a bed for the night I went home and stood under the shower for the better part of fifteen minutes. It was only then that the impact of the dramatic events really hit me. I'd liked Janis, even after we broke up, she wasn't exactly gay, more fluid, she'd dated both men and women but she'd always been open minded and a conscientious officer. She was also cool-headed, not the kind of cop who'd lose their courage at a crucial moment. It's easy to freeze at the point of pulling the trigger, she wasn't that kind of officer but now she was in the morgue and I was standing under the shower.

It took a long time to finally fall asleep, the last time I saw the clock it was 04:15 and I woke three times in the next few hours, the last time I'd come out of a dream where I was the one who was shot and Lamara was standing by looking bemused.

My last dream was of was Janis's reanimated corpse coming to accuse me of not backing her up and eventually I opened my eyes to someone knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell. I got up to answer the door and found Lamara on the other side of the flywire door.

She looked worried as she stared at me.

"You weren't answering your phone so I thought I'd drop round to check on you."

"Oh," I squinted into the afternoon sun, "what time is it?"

"Half past two in the afternoon, Sunday," she replied.

"Fuck," I pinched my nose, "I went to bed at two thirty."

"That's a solid twelve hours sleep."

"It wasn't exactly twelve hours," I unlocked the door, "I kept waking up, the last time I looked at the clock it was quarter past four," I opened the door for her, "sorry if I'm still in my dressing gown I was dreaming that someone was knocking at the door but I was too afraid to open it."

"It wasn't the cop who was killed, was it?"

"You must be psychic," I winced and stepped back to let her in.

"No, I'm a psychologist and I majored in psychiatry, it's what I do for a job," she looked around the room, "but why don't you grab a shower and I'll make you a late brunch?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Don't argue, just show me where the kitchen is first and I'll work it out from there, okay?"

I acquiesced and retreated somewhat sheepishly to my bedroom and then the bathroom. It felt a bit weird letting someone loose in my kitchen whilst I showered, it's not like I've never had girlfriends do the same thing but it's been such a long time that I'd forgotten. Lamara had turned up in a white blouse, jeans and a jacket, I elected for more casual attire, a blue tee shirt and jeans. By the time I got back to the kitchen she'd just made pancakes, the coffee-pot was hot and she nodded at the table as she opened the fridge.

"Sit down and eat and we'll talk."

"I haven't had pancakes in years, one of my ex girlfriends used to make them now and then," I sat down at the kitchen table.

She didn't reply to that one as she poured me a glass of cordial and set it down on the table. Lamara leaned against the bench and stared at the door leading to the living room while I started eating, I'd not realised I was hungry until I came back to the kitchen and eventually she spoke.

"Have the department been in contact with you yet or is it too soon?"

"They'll be calling tomorrow, it's standard procedure these days just to make sure no one's about to go over the edge."

"You'll probably be dealing with Tracey, Robert or Ahmed, they're former colleagues of mine but they deal with all the police occupational health and safety matters, they've got others working under them of course so you may get a junior colleague."

"You know them?"

"I was a locum there for about six months while Tracey was off on maternity leave, they split her hours between another therapist and myself. That's where I met Gavin, he wasn't a client by the way, but he'd been referred to the clinic over anger management issues."

"It's a common problem, I'm still fuming that Serbian Steve managed to get bail. Now one cop is dead and we nearly had another dead civilian, all because of one man, Barrows, we lock them up and fancy barristers get them out on technicalities. We have to be so fucking careful when it comes to investigating crimes, a tiny mistake can break a case."

"So Gavin used to tell me, all the time," she looked past me, "so, are you still committed to going for this job interview now or has last night changed things?"

I took a minute or so to answer her question.

"To be honest it just strengthens the case. Janis was cool, calm and collected, we were involved a few years ago but we parted on mutual grounds and stayed friends. She's the last person I thought would end her career like this and as I told you the other day it's only a matter of time before I pull out my gun and use it," I propped on my palm.

"That's the part that scares me. Would I freeze? It happens, a lot more than you realise and the only reason there aren't more police fatalities is because their partner didn't freeze."

"There are three basic taboos hard wired into our brains," she replied.

"Don't kill your own kind, don't eat your own kind and don't sleep with your members of your immediate family and one of our tasks as psychologists is unlocking why people broke those rules and trying to set them free again. The brain is a biological computer, basically and when circuits get cross wired or neurons fire at the wrong time then things start snowballing."

I merely nodded at that as I stared at the bench behind her, I was still thinking about Janis and then Lamara touched my hand.

"I can't intervene when it comes to this. You've got therapists who'll deal with you but if you need a listening ear then I'm here, even if you just want to vent. It takes time to process the loss, so don't try to fix the problem with one session," she withdrew her hand.