Published: 27 Feb 2017

Sid Barnes was at a life’s crossroad. Or more to the fact was finding the town was disintegrating away from his control. He was becoming somewhat sedentary, sending his weight past what was considered acceptable by the available women of the town, while those who were married and in need of extra excitement in their otherwise dull country lives, had either left town or become equally tired of him. Also his small town rackets were almost finished, all he now had to look forward to was his share of Four King’s profit, which would not eventuate until after deals with the mine and sales to the expected influx of families needing homes had concluded. There was also his Constable who had become distant and surly. Maybe he should approve his transfer. He could therefore start afresh with a new man, someone more malleable to his ways. Besides there was something else about Payne the Sergeant didn’t like. He had become suspicious, at times almost accusing, never letting up on Hutton’s death and the robberies.

Wednesday’s lunch break found Barnes heading towards the Railway Hotel. There he would have his usual meat pie and two beers before returning to his station. On passing the supermarket he chanced upon Esca and Luke as they chatted happily on their way towards the town’s swimming pool. Barnes paused. ‘How much he looks like his Uncle George,’ he thought, remembering his days at school with George. He didn’t think much of the Brody family then, maybe even less now. It was the young George that now came to mind. How overpowering he had been. George older by a year had taken advantage of a naive child.

George had arranged to meet a youthful Sid Barnes in the scrub some distance behind the Brody house, where he befriended Barnes in a way previously unknown to him. After some conversation George, although the young Barnes was somewhat willing, forced himself onto the lad, removing his pants before, as it was described in some circles, giving him head. Except for masturbation it was Barnes’ first sexual experience and it felt good. As an adult he quickly drifted towards heterosexuality but always remembered George’s searching mouth and no woman since had given him so much oral pleasure.

As the two began to pass, Barnes reached out placing a large firm hand onto Esca’s shoulder. “Brody I want a word with you.” He demanded roughly bringing both lads to pause.

“What seems to be the problem Sergeant?” Esca asked showing a measure of disrespect. Barnes turned to Luke, “Campbell you can piss off.” He demanded. Luke remained.

“You go on and I’ll catch up in a minute.” Esca suggested defiantly folding his arms while looking directly into the eyes of his adversary. Barnes escorted Esca to one side away from the footpath traffic and the shop doorways.

“How did you like the city?” Barnes enquired smirking as he spoke.

“You have already asked me that question Sergeant.

“Yea but you didn’t answer.”

“Actually I did, I said I didn’t like it.” Esca was becoming wearisome of the policeman’s questioning and commenced to move away.

Barnes now spoke low and menacing.

“You were arrested weren’t you?”The Sergeant asked.

“No sir.”

“Yes sir, remember my last Constable, Brett Cummins, he arrested you in one of those fag places down in the city.”

“I don’t think so Mr. Barnes.” Esca answered as fear gripped at his throat, almost taking his voice with it.

“It’s Mr. Barnes now eh. Cummins said you gave a false name but he remembered your face so why lie son I know the lot.”

Esca wished to explain he hadn’t lied as they were only warned and the only arrests made were on those with drugs. Wisely he remained silent.

“I suppose you’re like that fag Uncle of yours eh kid.” Barnes snarled, still without receiving any response.

“I reckon that’s why your old man shot himself, was he a fag as well?” Barnes paused. “Who else in town knows your sordid little secret eh?” he continued. “Maybe I should tell parents to watch out for their kids?” The policeman threatened.

“I’m not like that.” Esca barked at the policeman.

“Maybe you are maybe you’re not, tell you what, come to my room at the Railway Hotel around eight tomorrow night, I’ll have to think about this – and use the back stairs.” Barnes made a guttural noise, slowly shaking his head he moved on leaving Esca to stew with his threat. The Policeman’s spirits lifted, his threat and dominance created well being in him and he was most pleased, even more so in what he was arranging for the lad.

Although Luke had been instructed to continue on to the pool, he waited out of sight at the next corner. Even from a distance he could tell Esca was stressed.

“What was that all about?” Luke asked as Esca retracted his steps to him.

“Come on, we’re going home. Ill tell you there.”

Back at the house Esca had calmed enough to talk rationally. Slowly he told all, starting with that night at the city club and its raid, concluding with what Barnes had told him and that he was expected to visit the policeman the following night.

“Are you going to turn up?” Luke asked sympathetically.

“I suppose I’ll have to, at least so I can find out what his intensions are.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“Knowing the sadistic fat bastard probably to string it out for as long as he can; then bury me in it.” Esca took a deep breath slowly shaking his head in disbelief. “This fucking town has really got it in for me and I’ve done nothing. All I want is a quiet existence.”

“All the more reason for us to leave,”

“I’m getting there Luke, believe me I’m getting there.” Esca answered his voice low and dejected.

The rear stairs of the Railway Hotel were shrouded in darkness as Esca approached. Climbing the steps in slow procession he released a thought of woe on each one. At the top he faltered, almost in reverse but he must know what Barnes had install for him. He continued.

The policeman’s room was the closest to the stairs, its door was open and a bright light glared from a single unshaded bulb, dangling like a hanged man from a long brown cord. The room’s character was transient, as if occupied by someone who progressed through life without purpose. It gave rest at night and held safe its few possessions but nothing more. There was a bed, a cupboard, desk and chair and a scattering of books and clothing. So this was Barnes’ life, then for an instant, if that, Esca felt pity towards the man behind the uniform but at the sound of Barnes’ voice it vanished.

“Close the door!” Barnes demanded. Esca nervously obeyed, before standing motionless a single step inside the room. He said nothing fixing his gaze on the table and a small ornate silver bowl, containing keys and some small change. He knew that bowl but from where?

Sid Barnes was dressed in street clothes, taking away the severity of his rank, bringing the lad to think there may be a more humane side to him. His short black hair spiked to the crown of his head, appeared neater than usual as he sat stiffed back on the edge of his bed, smelling of Old Spice aftershave. His attire, a light blue shirt tucked well into his jeans but the tightness of the belt forced his belly to overhang the waistband in humorous fashion, bringing a smile to Esca’s otherwise serious expression. ‘A verandah over the tool shed,’ he thought.

Esca’s smirk was noted.

“Brody what am I going to do with you?” Barnes asked his voice low and menacing. Esca remained silent.

“What are you doing hanging around with the Campbell kid?” Barnes continued, still without response. “Is he your little filly? I could arrest you for tampering with an under aged child.” Barnes declared. Again Esca smirked, he had never heard the term filly used in such a way before.

“Luke Campbell is over eighteen.” Esca answered in defence but didn’t deny his association with Luke. Why bother as Barnes had already made up his mind about them.

“Maybe he is but do his parents know what’s going on?”

“Who said anything is going on he’s a mate of mine that’s all.” Esca was becoming bold, he now had nothing to lose, at worse the policeman could only spread rumours and it was now his belief the Sergeant would not do so. Besides if life became too difficult he could leave town at a moment’s notice, never to return.

Barnes lost his upright stance, leaning back on his open hands, in what was obviously intended to be an erotic position; he gestured towards a lump forming below the buttons of his jeans fly, as an overpowering breath of Old Spice reached Esca’s nostrils.

“Tell you what kid, be my filly and I’ll forget about the whole thing.” The man suggested, forcing a weak smile to appear across what was otherwise a most severe calculated countenance.

Esca gritted his teeth; it was all he could do to prevent himself from laughing out aloud. He remained serious and silent, unresponsive towards the Policeman’s suggestion. Immediately Barnes realised he had called the lad’s bluff and failed. His intention was to humiliate Esca, now instead he had to rescue some dignity. Regaining his previous rigid seated position, he cleared his throat, “Alright kid, I’ll give you a few days to come to your senses before I take the matter further. Now get out.”

Once outside Esca laughed loudly, before bounding down the stairs without concern for what action the policeman may take. Firstly he didn’t believe Barnes would do anything and if he did what difference would it make to his standing in the town. He had none.

Some days had passed since Barnes had issued his ultimatum to Esca, without receiving any response. Now sat at his desk, his thoughts drifting back to what may have eventuated and why he had designed the meeting in the first place. If he could think that deeply, he would have realised forcing sex with Esca would have been out of revenge for what George had done so many years earlier and not from attraction towards the lad. He had called Esca’s bluff and failed. What else could he do? If he were to announce his suspicions on Esca’s sexuality, it may draw attention towards him and the deep seated black urge he had buried so many years previously. Alas it still remained but the man knew he would overcome it. He gave a grunt deciding to do nothing except maybe apply enough pressure in hope Esca would leave town. The Sergeant’s groan caught the attention of his Constable who enquired if there were anything the matter.

“No not really, I was thinking I’d better keep an eye on that Brody kid, he’s knocking around with Luke Campbell and I know the Campbell’s wouldn’t want it.”

“Brody seems like a pleasant enough kid.” Payne suggested.

“Um, on the surface maybe but don’t they all seem alright there?”

Payne refrained from continuing the conversation, he had his rounds to do and since the stations staffing had been downgraded, he spent more time with traffic control and street patrol.

“I’m off,” Payne said while collecting the patrol car’s keys. Lifting them from their hook he noticed Barnes searching through his desk drawer.

“Lost something Sarge?” Payne asked.

Barnes mumbled before roughly pushing the drawer shut but didn’t respond.

“I’ll be back around three.” Payne advised without receiving further recognition from his Sergeant.

Once the Constable had left the station, Barnes continued his search. Firstly the drawers to his desk, his desk and the area around the station counter. Maybe he had left it in his hotel room, he would search there later.

It was a quiet afternoon on the road, much too hot to be about without a good reason. By closure of his shift the Constable had no one on his report sheets. The quiet period gave him time to think and his thoughts were on Barnes. He disliked the man, believing him to be more than responsible for many of the town’s ills. There was also that rumour around the town that some one had been purchasing many of the town’s houses, with the name Four Kings ever more surfacing in conversations. He had also found a page of correspondence with that name included while looking for a charge sheet on his Sergeant’s desk.

Was Barnes behind Four Kings? Retrospectively he believed he could not be. He drank and gambled most of his money and would never have the finance to mount such a programme. Then there were the robberies, along with his belief that Hutton was responsible, also most of the houses were those offered for sale and soon after being robbed many agreed to a lower price. At this point he attempted to collate his limited knowledge of Four Kings with that of the robberies but could not.

Payne was late returning from road patrol, entering the station he found the power had once again failed and Barnes seated suffering from heat stress. “Lose some weight and it would half your problem.” Payne quietly uttered from outside the open door of his Sergeant’s office.

“Nothing on the road?” Barnes enquired loudly through the doorway.

“Only that drongo on his motor bike from Ravenswood, I followed him to Ovens Creek but didn’t think it worth killing myself over him, so I left it to the Ravenswood lot to catch him.”

“He’ll kill himself one day.” Barnes added and joined Payne.

“How long has the power been off?” Payne enquired, feeling the forty plus day kick in.

“Since you left,”

“Too many air conditioners that’s the problem,” Payne added astutely.

“Too many fucking something, you can take charge, I’m off to the pub.”

Barnes wiped away sweat from his forehead, his throat dry and rasped, in need of lubrication, while sweat flies gathered on the back of his perspiration soaked khaki shirt. “I won’t be back so when you go make sure your mobile is switched over.” The Sergeant concluded from the top of the station’s stairs.

With Barnes gone Payne’s interests once again returned to the document he had seen on his Sergeant’s desk. Quickly he entered the office and commenced a search. It was gone. He tried the desk drawers but they were locked and the keys missing from their usual place in the small plastic container, remaining only an assortment of paper clips and rubber bands. The telephone rang causing Payne to jump, ending his private investigation.

Morning came with a fresh supply of electricity. Fans whirled and air conditioners hummed. Constable Payne arrived at the station, finding Barnes in a relatively pleasant mood, with the smell off freshly brewed coffee permeating throughout the building.

“Want coffee?” Barnes offered. Payne declined. He had that moment come from breakfast at the Rose Deli. Barnes seated himself with his coffee, his boots resting on the desk corner, while gazing attentively through the side window.

‘Where could it be?’ he wondered. He had searched through his meagre belongings in his hotel room the previous night without success and now he had searched most of the station.

“Hey Payne you haven seen a gold plated pen around eh?” He finally asked.

Payne admitted he hadn’t. Then memory came to him. He had collected a pen from the scene of Hutton’s death and it was gold in colour. What did he do with it and how could it be the same pen. Unless…

“Well if you see it, don’t try flogging it on as it’s only plate.” Barnes concluded.

Payne didn’t answer, his mind still pondering over the pen he had found. He remembered placing it in his jacket pocket, then once back in his room he had removed it without thinking further about its importance.

“What did it look like?” Payne eventually asked.

“Have you found it?” Barnes’ voice arrived with a degree of excitement through the open doorway to his office.

“No I was asking in case I do.”

“Gold is fucking gold, what else can I say, you couldn’t mistake it and there is engraving along its side.”

Payne remembered the pen he found had engraving.

“What was it?” He thought. ‘Love from,’ he paused his thought, ‘from who?’ he remembered there was some words and initials but could not recollect what they were. He commenced to ask what was engraved on the pen but withdrew before uttering a word, believing it wise not to make too much of an issue with the missing pen, he would scrutinise that which he found once he returned to his room. For now he would remain dumb to its existence.

The following morning Constable Payne purposely arrived at work before Barnes. The pen he had found was gold plated and did have engraving. ‘Love from BG’ but how had it arrived near the body of Hutton. At first Payne thought he would place the pen where Barnes could easily find it but on second thoughts decided to confront his Sergeant.

Barnes arrived to find Payne broadly smiling while holding the pen high above his head.

“You found it.” Barnes declared brightly.

“Yep,”

“Where was it?” Barnes turned its barrel to the engraving. He smiled once again reading the inscription. He shook his head in memory. ‘She was a real good root.’ He silently admitted, ‘but her husband was a right mean bastard.’ His thoughts concluded as he pocked the pen.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Payne declared.

“Alright where?” Barnes innocently enquired.

“At the scene of Hutton’s murder, I placed it in my coat pocket at the time and forgot about it.” Payne declared, searching his Sergeant’s expression for guilt. There wasn’t any.

“The little bugger must have stolen it when he came in about his bicycle.” Barnes quickly answered, his face lacking any expression of culpability, leaving Payne in a quandary about the man’s guilt.

As Barnes turned away he felt most pleased with his ability for quick thinking but if he turned once more he would have seen his Constable in total disbelief. Barnes may have appeared innocent and Payne may have some doubts about his own conclusions, or not wish to believe them but he still believed that somehow, somewhere Barnes was mixed up in the whole sordid affair.

It was true, Hutton would most probably pilfer anything that wasn’t screwed down but it was doubtful if the kid could string a dozen words together, never mind find interest in stealing a pen. Yet like some Bower Bird, he may have been attracted to its shine, then why would he have it on him the night he was murdered? Besides his pockets were almost empty, not even a house key and if he stole the pen, it would have been taken some weeks previous when he came to the station reporting his bicycle missing.

In Payne’s thinking the pen had been found directly ahead of where Hutton fell and could have come out of his shirt pocket but the lad would have had to hit the ground in a forward motion with some force, to send the pen to its resting place and it was somewhat to one side to have come from his shirt pocket. As for the lad’s body it appeared to more collapse from a perpendicular position rather than project forward with force. Was his Sergeant responsible for Hutton’s demise? The more he pondered on the possibility the more he believed Barnes to be guilty.

Payne shook his head, he would dig deeper into the mystery and who was BG?

Eventually the ordeal became too much for the Constable and he placed his thoughts and investigation aside for another time.

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

29,219 views