Abacus

go now.”
    “C’mon , guys,” Nurse Florence said, joining in on their fun. “Harold’s only here to help.”
    “He’s helpful al l right,” Hobbs said, peeking out into the ward.
    N urse Florence brushed past them. “I’ve got to let you out anyway. I’ll keep him away from you, so just follow me.”
    As they exited the office, Hob bs held the door open to allow Nurse Florence to leave first, then Randall. “Thanks, mate,” Randall said with a wide grin. He was ever the gracious winner.
    * * *
    On the way back to the office, Randall looked out the passenger’s side window of the car at the small businesses that lined City Road. Most of the signage was in a language other than English. Chinese, Arabic and Vietnamese businesses had popped up all over Sydney. As he looked at the diverse backgrounds of the customers walking the pavement, he thought about Karen Cheung. What did she look like these days? Where was she born? Had she been previously married?
    He thought about her whirlwind romance with the victim Briggs. She must have been very lonely or had a self-esteem issue , he thought, otherwise, why would she take up with a psych patient, and move him in straightaway? To Randall her actions did not appear to be those of a rational person in the trusted position of a nurse.
    Later the same afternoon, Randall was tidying up his desk in preparation to go home. He thought about his meeting with Nurse Florence earlier in the day and was working through how he could get to speak with her again without appearing too desperate. He thought it best he left it for a couple of days and maybe meet her for a coffee or something. He knew he had to do something otherwise he would always regret not having tried. Just as he headed to the door the land line rang. “Hello, Detective Randall speaking, can I help you?” Randall said in his most professional phone manner.
    “I think you can,” came a familiar, husky, female voice. “Hi , Detective, it’s Helen Florence from the hospital.” Randall could not believe it as he smiled widely.
    “ Hi, Helen, nice to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
    “ Bob, I’m ringing because…” She paused. “We are both mature adults so it is best I get straight to the point. I think you are a very attractive man and I think we could have a great time together.” Randall smiled and even blushed a little as he walked in circles around the office with the phone to his ear. “I know it is late notice, but a very attractive female friend of mine and I are going out to a, let me say, very open-minded establishment tonight, and we were both looking for a man to, eh, accompany us both, if you know what I mean. I think you would be perfect, Bob.”
    Randall was shocked, but did love the idea of spending some time with an attractive woman or t wo. His busy work schedule and DL assignments meant his personal life wasn’t exactly skyrocketing at the moment. “Well, Helen, I… er… that sounds great. Listen, I am just finishing up here now, what time were you thinking?”
    “About nine P.M. I can meet you at the front of the club. We can have a few drinks, and my friend should get there about half an hour later. That way we will have a bit of time alone.”
    “That sounds great . If you could just text me the address, I will be there. I look forward to it.”
    “Well , it’s a date, Bob. I’ll see you tonight at nine.”
    Randall excitedly collected his jacket and bag , and headed out his office and down the hallway with a distinct spring in his step. As he reached the general police station, he saw Hobbs leaning on the front counter, speaking with a uniformed officer. “What’s the rush? Where are you off to?” he asked suspiciously.
    Ran dall smirked as he hurried past. “Big fella, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
    “Wait, wait, tell me your not. Not with her,” he said with a hint of desperation.
    “Oh yes I am, it’s the quick or the dead.”
    * * *
    As Randall pulled up onto his driveway, he saw his neighbour Bill watering the garden. He walked down the drive to join his neighbour near the front nature strip. “Garden’s looking good, mate.”
    “Thanks,” Bill said proudly.
    Randall looked at the bare trench in the nature strip lawn that had been made by a motor scooter. The tyre tracks led to his mailbox, along the grass then onwards to Bill’s. The barren marks were just starting to show a green tinge of re-growth. “Looks like