The Crimes and Punishments of Miss Payne by Barry Jonsberg Read Free Book Online

of
Crimestoppers.
    Close-up of smooth, good-looking bastard with anal-retentive hair and discreet tie. He could be one of those models you see in catalogs, flanked by a couple of clean-cut clones sporting seriously unpleasant leisure garments. There is a
Crimestoppers
logo perched over his immaculate left shoulder:
    “Can anyone remember seeing two young people near the mall between five-thirty and six on the evening of the seventeenth of May? A young male, aged about fifteen, with camouflage gear, bandy legs, bright red hair with a beanie stuck on the top like a black cherry. His accomplice had huge boobs and orange glasses the size of up-and-over garage doors.”
    No, the gathering dark was just fine with me.
    Kiffo was moving like a man possessed. I had to struggle to keep up with him.
    “How did you find out where she lived, Kiffo?” I panted.
    “Easy,” he replied. “Borrowed my mate's motorbike. Followed her home from school.”
    “What are we going to do when we get there? I mean, for all we know, she could spend her evenings doing crosswords or pulling the wings off butterflies or sharpening her teeth. I can't imagine she has a loving circle of friends. And what if she has family?” I really couldn't imagine the Pitbull having family, mind you. She wasn't born, she was quarried. Nonetheless, I thought it was unlikely that she'd be out of an evening dancing at the local club or taking embroidery classes. I could see us sitting outside her house most of the night with nothing to show for it.
    “It's sorted,” said Kiffo. “She's got a dog.”
    “A dog?” I repeated. This was getting worse. “How does that help us?”
    “She takes it for a walk. Every night, the same time. Seven to eight-thirty. You can set your watch by it. Plenty of time for me to be in there, out again and both of us to be home before she gets halfway through exercising the mutt. Trust me.”
    I shivered, even though the evening was uncomfortably warm. This was Kiffo's thing, his expertise. In the classroom, I was the boss. I knew my way around a poem. He knew his way around other people's houses. I thought about the different worlds we inhabited and wondered how I had managed to get myself involved in his.
    We eventually stopped outside a small, low-set house in a nondescript area of the city. Kiffo and I stood across the road under a large casuarina, where we were reasonably safe from prying neighbors. He hunkered down and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his camouflage jacket. He offered me one. I shook my head. I was developing enough bad habits for one evening. Aiding and abetting a break-in, an accomplice to a serious crime, a gangster's moll. Kiffo lit up and looked across the road with narrowed eyes. I wasn't sure if this was because of the smoke or because he thought it was tough. I crouched down beside him and practiced narrowing my eyes. He pointed at the house with his cigarette.
    “Ten minutes. Then she'll be gone. All you gotta do is watch out for anyone who might be suspicious and let me know. I'll only be in there ten minutes. Piece of cake.”
    “Yeah,” I said, “and just how am I supposed to let you know if someone does get suspicious? Set off fireworks, use a bullhorn, assemble a marching band?”
    Kiffo narrowed his eyes further. God, I wished I could do that. I made a resolution to practice. He kept silent for a while, and with one of those horrible sinking feelings, I realized that this was something he hadn't given much thought to. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
    “You'll think of something,” he replied finally, showing more faith in me than I could summon. “Anyway, quiet. Here she is.”
    I wasn't encouraged by the fact that she was eight minutes early according to Kiffo's calculations. Maybe he wasn't toofussy when it came to setting his watch. Maybe he couldn't tell the time. Not that it mattered. I watched as the Pitbull opened the front door of her house and came out, trying to restrain the