Four Fires by Bryce Courtenay Read Free Book Online

down.'
    He points to Brent Middleton's left eye, 'Looks like you've got a bit of a stinker coming on, Mister Middleton. Good punch, was it?'
    'Dunno, sir. Suppose so, sir.'
    'Dunno? You said a king-hit, didn't you? Hit you when you weren't looking, took you by surprise?'
    'No, sir, yes, sir.'
    'Just walked up and whacked you?'
    'We was talking, sir.'
    'Just talking, then he up and hit you?'
    'Yes, sir.'
    'And, Mister Middleton, what precisely were you talking about?
    Was it something you may have said to Mister Maloney? You see, in my experience, little blokes don't go around hitting big blokes unless they're very stupid or drunk.' He turns to Bozo. 'Were you drunk, Mister Maloney?'
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    The blokes all giggle, our laughter breaking a bit of the tension.
    'No, sir,' Bozo says, trying not to grin through his split lip.
    'Stupid then? You don't look stupid to me.'
    Bozo blushes, but doesn't reply.
    'Some of us got hit by him as well,' Brent Middleton now offers, side-stepping Sergeant Donovan's original question. There follows a mumble of approval from his side of the classroom.
    Big Jack Donovan stops and thinks, then says, 'Us? Oh, I see! It wasn't just you and Mister Maloney fighting, Mister Middleton, the big bloke and the little bloke, there were others involved?'
    'My friends, sir, they came to help me.'
    'And what did they do to help you, Mister Middleton?'
    Brent Middleton looks at Bozo, 'Tried to pull him away, sir. He'd gone off his scone, sir.'
    'Little bloke hits big bloke, big bloke's friends, all bigger than little bloke, come to his rescue and get hit in turn by little bloke who has turned into an unstoppable, raging bull. Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it now?'
    'Then the dogs come, sir,' Middleton bursts out, again not.
    responding to the sergeant's question.
    'Dogs? What dogs? Is that what happened to Mister Maloney? I see he has a split lip and stitches in his ear and it looks like he's had a
    nose bleed, and, judging from his eyes, he's going to have a couple of stinkers.' He pauses, then adds, 'That nasty bruise above his knee, I could have sworn was a kick from a boot. Do you mean to say the dogs did all that to him?'
    'No, sir, they were his dogs, he set them onto us,' Brent Middleton explains.
    'Hmm... how did the dogs come? I mean, did Mister Maloney stop beating you all up and turn and, you know, whistle for them?'
    'Dunno, sir, maybe, sir.'
    'But no one heard him whistle or call out?'
    'There was a lot of noise, sir. Whistle, I suppose.'
    'With his lip split open and his nose bleeding and nine blokes trying to pull him away from you and all that noise and.., amidst all Page 28

    this confusion he had time to whistle for the dogs? By the way, where were these dogs? Were they standing around waiting for instructions, a whistle from their master, permission to attack?'
    'I dunno, sir, they just come at us from nowhere.'
    'Come now, Mister Middleton, nowhere? They must have come from somewhere?'
    'The school gates I suppose, they's always there.'
    'How far would you say the school gates were from where the fight took place?'
    'Dunno, sir.'
    'Would you say ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred yards?'
    'About fifty yards, sir.'
    Sergeant Donovan looks out of the window for a long time. He takes his feet off the table and pulls the chair up, so he's sitting with his elbows leaning on the teacher's desk, his hands cupped under his chin.
    'Well, well, well, if they were Mister Maloney's dogs, I've seen them myself on numerous occasions and there isn't one of them that stands much taller than ten inches off the ground. As I recall, they're well trained to obedience and I've never had any complaints about them being vicious. So there must have been a good reason for them to come at you lot, wouldn't you say, Mister Middleton?'
    There is a mumble of 'No, sir, no reason, sir' from their side of the classroom.
    'Your point is well taken, Mister Middleton, some sort of signal must have passed. May I put it