Abacus

quietly and considered the truth of the story he had just been told. “So why aren’t you still in hospit al?” Randall asked suspiciously.
    “These fuckers are gonna want to kill me , Detective,” he said, gesturing a pistol to his head. “I had to get out of there, I was a sitting duck. If they had of found me, they would have killed me. So I signed myself out, and here I am.”
    Randall looked out into the park and considered his story. Any reservations he had, now disappeared. At that moment he was glad he had not killed off Irish for his indiscretion at the Chinese restaurant. He had handled this assignment very well. “Irish, I don’t know what to say to you. I am sorry you were put in that situation, but I have no control over what happens out there. You do understand that, don’t you?”
    “Yeah , I do. Maybe you could speak to your boss and put in for a pay rise for me,” he said with a hint of a smile.
    “Bloody hell , you deserve one, Irish. You now know how strong that shit is, don’t you?”
    “Shit , you can say that again. If you take that stuff straight up, it is an instant death sentence.”
    Randall looked ou t into the vast expanse of lawn. “Well hopefully there won’t be anything coming up too soon. Go home and rest up and get better. Okay?” Randall opened his wallet and handed Irish four thousand dollars cash.
    Irish took the cash and saluted Randall. “Thanks , Detective, appreciated.”
    Randall leant back and g ave Irish a pat on the shoulder. “You did really well, it is appreciated. We’ll speak again, but hopefully not too soon.” Randall remained seated while he watched the lethargic Irish stand up and wander very slowly across the park.
    Being nominated as bait by the Abacus was truly a cruel blow for anyone. On reflection, he thought it could even be worse than being nominated as a target. The targets were killed quickly, whereas the baits were put in a number of dangerous situations, then later killed for their troubles. Even though he felt terribly sorry for Irish today, he had to remain focused on the positives; there was another target now off the streets.
    * * *
    At day’s end, the team found themselves back in the task force office to exchange information. “Sheik, how did you go with our Asian?” Jesse asked.
    “Good , Jesse, as we thought it appears he is a bit of a recreational angler. Anyway, he hooked up the backpack, dragged it onto the mud flat and opened it. He found the head and panicked. He thought the police were going to take him away and torture him. So he left the backpack, packed up his gear, and took off with his dog.”
    “Why did he come back today if he was scared ?” Jesse asked inquisitively.
    “ He thought that if he came back and saw the bag again, he would do the right thing and let someone know.”
    “And you , Hobbs, how did you get on?”
    “Well, the divers couldn’t find further remains or any other clues with a wide search of the riverbed, both downstream and upstream. For the re-enactment we chose a bowling ball, which had the same weight as the head. The ball was wrapped in a sheet, placed into the same backpack and sent out with a rope attached. We tested it in both the strong run out current as well as run in. The tides are a decent size at the moment, being about one point eight metres, so it gave us a good indication of how the current would affect the bag and contents. The result was that the bag did not budge one inch, it stuck to the bottom, even when the divers gave it a shove from its resting place, the current still did not move it. We came to the conclusion that the bag had been tossed in exactly where it was found.”
    “Interesting,” Jesse s aid as he pumped some disinfectant gel from a small container into his hands and rubbed them together.
    “In res pect of marine life in the Botany River, we got a statement from a local pro-fisherman. Apparently the river is home to the odd bull shark, mullet, bream, mud crabs and prawns, which could all feed off the remains.”
    Jesse scribbled some notes on the whiteboard and momentarily looked up. “Good work, mate, that answers a few questions for us.”
    Randall , from his seated position at the head of the table, looked over to the analyst. “All right, over to you, Michael.”
    The ginger- headed Michael nervously cleared his high-pitched voice. “I have eliminated about eighty potential phone numbers, leaving a balance of twenty. I am confident I will