The man tensed when she sat next to him, and wriggled as far to the end of the bench as he could go. A fly floated through the sunshine and settled on his nose. He gave it an angry swipe and stood as if to leave.
Now or never, Stevie thought, taking a breath. ‘Hey,’ she called out. The man turned and she said, ‘Cool hat.’
‘Yeah.’ He was younger than she’d expected, late twenties at the most. He had the name of a local rock band printed on his T-shirt.
‘It’s like the hat the drummer of the Stoned Mullets wears, isn’t it? I love that band, one of my faves.’
The man grunted and turned away. She got to her feet and stopped him with a tap on the shoulder.
‘Where did you get it? The hat I mean, I’d really like a hat like that.’
‘Piss off, lady.’
His irritation proved irresistible to Stevie. She followed him to the lake, sticking as close as an annoying puppy.
Jeez, I love my job.
The water level of the lake had dropped and the air was tainted with the dank earthy smell of mud.
Stevie prattled on. ‘If you’re a fan of the band, you should check out their website, they have a chat room and...’ she broke off when he stopped mid stride and turned to face her. Feigning deep thought, she slid her fingers through her blond ponytail and looked him up and down. ‘Come to think of it, you wouldn’t happen to be Robert...’
The guy reacted faster than she’d anticipated. Stevie swerved in time to miss the impact of the punch, but not enough to prevent the man’s ring from catching her cheek and splitting the skin. She swore and called out to Tash for assistance.
He must have guessed they would try to cut him off from his car because he changed direction with a sharp swerve, taking off at a run towards the grassy Broadwalk. He hurdled the family’s picnic basket, the trilby flying off his head and landing in their fruit salad. The adults sprang to their feet and watched the chase unfold with mouths agape. The little boys panicked and ran from the sandpit towards their parents, forcing Stevie to dodge left then right to avoid bowling them over.
Mason was already sprinting up the steep gradient of the Broadwalk towards the DNA tower—1.3k, the sign said. Stevie wondered how she was ever going to catch him. Her chest already burned. Give up the smokes, give up the smokes, gotta give up the smokes, she chanted in her head to the rhythm of her pounding feet. Her legs screamed, must get back, must get back, must get back to the gym. But she kept running, despite the widening gap between them. She’d rather suffer a heart attack than let the creep escape.
He came to where the road cut across the grassy sward, confident enough now to slow to a fast walk. Stevie gained a little ground. If I were him I’d head down one of the bush tracks, she thought. Or make a sharp turn at the road and highjack one of the cars meandering through the park at funereal speed. I can’t continue this chase on foot—Tash, where the hell are you?
Her silent curses were answered by the scream of Tash’s trail bike from somewhere in the scrub at the side.
Mason had reached the double helix of the DNA tower and was leaning against a metal strut to catch his breath when Tash emerged from the bush on foot. ‘Hold it right there!’ she shouted, knees bent, arms and weapon extended. The man seemed even more stunned at the sight of the gun than Stevie, and stared back bug-eyed at the small, dark-haired woman in the tight black jeans and T-shirt. Tash approached to within a few metres of him, her Glock never wavering from his head.
Stevie caught up with them, bent at the waist, gulping air like a fire-eater.
‘Shit, Tash, I didn’t know you were going to be armed,’ she gasped.
‘Yeah, well, it pays to be a step ahead. There’s no one around, no witnesses, so what?’
‘W-what are you talking about?’ Mason stammered, edging as far back into the tower as he could go.
‘What I’m saying, shit head,’ Tash answered through clenched teeth, ‘is that we don’t have to go by the rules with creeps like you.’
Stevie’s spine tingled uneasily. What the hell was Tash playing at? This was not in the script, but she couldn’t say anything in front of Mason. If he realised how out of order this was, the case would never stand up in court. She moved over to where the man stood, the sweat already turning cold upon her body. But she knew it was neither the cold sweat nor the exhaustion that made her fumble with the cuffs on her belt, dropping them once before managing to pin the man’s hands behind his back. When I turn back around, she told herself, Tash will have put away the gun and I can pretend I’ve never seen it.
Wrong.
Tash stepped closer to their prisoner, waving the gun in his face. ‘Robert Mason, you have been soliciting children over the Internet, pretending you’re something you’re not in order to have sex and do God knows what else to them.’ She pressed her face within inches of the quaking man’s. ‘That’s true isn’t it?’
Mason shook his head violently, sweat flying from his short spiky hair. Tash took a step back and wiped her face.
Stevie pinched her partner’s elbow and indicated for her to drop the gun. ‘Tash...’ she warned.
‘You can have it when this guy admits what he was doing,’ Tash muttered. She drew the slide and Stevie held her breath.
Mason gasped. ‘Oh fuck, okay, okay. Yes, I thought I was meeting a kid, yes, I was after sex, but it would’ve be consensual...’
‘Angel12 thought she was meeting a boy a similar age to herself. You knew she was a fan of the Stoned Mullets and you conned her, promising to give her posters and CDs if she met up with you,’ Tash said.
‘I didn’t—’
‘And if you hadn’t started talking dirty, you might have got away with it—you just couldn’t help yourself could you?’
‘No!’
Stevie intervened, ‘Robert Mason, I’m arresting you...’
Aghast, Stevie watched as Tash pulled the trigger and Robert Mason staggered back as a stream of water hit him between the eyes. He fell, cracking his head against one of the metal struts of the DNA tower before crumpling in a heap.
‘Tash, get away from him—right now!’ Stevie pushed the words through the side of her mouth, hoping Mason wouldn’t hear.
Tash was laughing so much she seemed incapable of action. Stevie snatched the gun from her and rolled the man over.
‘Who the hell are you?’ he stammered, blinking up at her.
Stevie clenched her jaw and snapped the plastic barrel across her knee before tossing the pieces into a nearby bin. ‘You can call me Angel12 if you like.’
They handed Mason over to the custody sergeant. Tash suggested a cuppa in the canteen but Stevie guided her towards the nearest interview room and kicked the door shut behind them.
Her anger was at last free to boil over. ‘What the hell do you think you were you playing at there in the park—Dirty Harry?’
‘Jesus, you don’t have to blow a gasket. This acting officer in charge crap has really gone to your head, hasn’t it? It’s totally wiped away your sense of humour.’ Tash folded her arms and set her mouth in a tight line.
Stevie pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down.’
Tash remained standing, one leg tucked back against the wall. ‘Welcome to the real world,’ she said coldly.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re new to Sex Crimes, this is how we work.’
‘Bullshit.’
‘Yeah, well, just wait—it won’t take long before it starts getting you down too. Day in day out, dealing with the scum of the earth—Mason got off lucky.’