Free Flashpoint by Felicity Young

feeder’s.’ When Ruby didn’t answer he continued. ‘She needs someone to help out in the shop and was wondering if you could give her a hand this afternoon.’
    â€˜Paid?’
    â€˜Yes.’ He’d already arranged to give Mrs Rooney the money.
    Ruby shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
    That was good enough. ‘Good. Let’s go do some more unpacking, then I’ll take you over there and introduce you.’
    â€˜What about your work?’
    Cam paused for a moment, thinking about the conversation he’d overheard in the park. ‘It’ll keep,’ he said.

9
    Cam was running late. He’d hoped to catch Toby Bell in his real estate office but was informed by the secretary that after waiting as long as he could, Bell had left for a Home Open down the road.
    The real estate agent didn’t notice Cam pulling up in the police ute. His head was in the boot of his mustard coloured BMW where he was trying to untangle a bunch of Home Open signs. With a start, he jerked himself out of the boot and stuck his hand between his knees, bellowing a blue string of expletives into the quiet suburban street. Cam hurried over to assist, receiving some murmured words of thanks. It was only when they’d finished unpacking the signs that Bell gave him the benefit of a glance. One look at the uniform and he paled; he dropped the sign he was holding, missing Cam’s foot by inches.
    â€˜Sorry to startle you, sir,’ Cam said.
    â€˜Jesus Christ, Officer. Tracking me over here is really too bloody much. Don’t you have anything better to do with your time? I thought my lawyer had sorted it all out with those wankers, they have no right to …’ He looked at Cam for a moment. A glimmer of an idea crossed his doughy features. ‘Ah, I know what your game is.’ He reached into his back pocket. ‘Maybe we could come to a mutual understanding – will a fifty keep that annoying little piece of paper in your pocket?’
    He flashed Cam a smile as sweet as glass toffee and just as brittle.
    â€˜This isn’t about any kind of summons, sir,’ Cam said, ‘if that’s what you mean. Please put your wallet away.’ He paused for a moment, trying to make his voice gentle. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news. Canwe go into the house?’ He nodded in the direction of the Home Open. ‘You might need to sit down.’
    Toby Bell ran his fingers through his bleached curls. ‘I think I’ve made a bit of a faux pas, haven’t I?’
    â€˜Given the circumstances, I’ll forget it.’
    â€˜OK, OK.’ Bell’s hand went to the gold chain at his throat. ‘Bad news?’ His voice faltered. He leaned back against the car. ‘Is it my, er, niece, Tiffany?’
    â€˜Please come with me, sir.’
    Cam led the way into the house and sat Bell in the dingy living room. This was the hard part; he never got used to this side of the job. Despite his years of experience, he knew he was clumsy and inadequate when dealing with the emotional pain of others.
    Cam took a step back. The man would need space. ‘I regret to inform you that the remains of your brother, Herbert, were found in bushland on Monday. The cause of death has not yet been ascertained.’
    â€˜Herbert? You’re talking about Herb?’
    He drew his breath in and stared at Cam for a moment. From his briefcase he removed a silver hip flask. After a large gulp he let out his breath, closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest of the sofa.
    Everyone reacted differently to grief; Cam decided to give the man time to collect his thoughts.
    The room in which they sat was claustrophobic and dark and smelled of old people. A faded portrait of a very young queen stared down at them from next to a Highland landscape print. Souvenir mugs from English seaside resorts lined the wooden mantelpiece. Cam could just imagine the flying ducks on the wall in