âI may be stiff but I havenât got bruised ribs.â
âStop it,â Judy Syme said. âI wish Michael had been around in the time before Carmel got shot.â
âWhy? What happened?â
She took a sip. âSome men came here. Twice. Looking for Carmel.â
âWhat did they do?â
âBarged in, pushed me around. Trashed her room.â
âWhat did they say?â
âNothing.â
âTwice you said. When was this?â
âThe first time was a week or so before ⦠beforeshe got killed. The second time was the night before.â
âDid you tell Drew this?â
She lit another cigarette. âYes. He took down the descriptions, but he didnât seem very interested.â
I got my notebook from my jacket pocket. âGive me the descriptions.â
âOne of them looked like you,â Press said.
âI thought you werenât here.â
âJudy told me about them. One was a thin, tall guy with a broken nose, hard-looking, like you.â
âThanks. Anything else?â
They looked at each other the way people do when trying to recall a conversation. Who sat where, who said what? âI donât think so,â Judy Syme said. âOh, of course, he was a New Zealander.â
âWho?â
âThe one that looked like you.â
I wrote âNZâ beside âlooks like selfâ. âWhat about the other one?â
âFatter,â Judy said. âAnd fairer, less hair except he had a moustache. They wore suits. They looked like police but they werenât.â
âHow do you know?â
âIâm a nurse, Iâve met a lot of police. I know.â
âI see. Well, what did Carmel say about this? Where was she?â
âShe was working the day they came the first time. I told her that night and she took off. Packed a few things and took off. She didnât come back. The same two came back later, like I say.â She took a big drink of her wine and dragged on the cigarette. âAnd the next day I read in the paper that she was dead.â
âDid these heavies ask you where she was?â
âYeah. I wouldnât tell them.â
âDid they threaten you?â
She nodded. âThey hit me, but I wouldnât tell them. Fuck them, I thought.â
Press drained his can and looked admiringly at her. I took a drink and privately toasted her courage myself. âDid Drew ask you where sheâd gone?â
âHe might have. I forget. I didnât tell him anyway. I got the feeling that he didnât care. What you say about the pornography explains it. What a laugh!â
âWill you tell me? I donât think she was involved in pornography either.â
âSure Iâll tell you. She was with Jan De Vries. Heâs a lecturer at the Film & Television School. They were working on something together.â
âWhat?â
âI donât know. Something that took all her time and energy. Something very important to her. We shared here for nearly two years. I was around when she was finishing
Bermagui,
but I never â¦â
âSorry. Finishing what?â
âBermagui,
her first movie. You havenât seen it?â
âNo.â
âItâs brilliant.â
âBrilliant,â Press said.
Judy stood and got rid of her cigarette in the same way as before. âThis one would have been brilliant too. For sure. Christ, she worked at it. And now â¦â She wrapped her arms round her upper body and swayed. Press jumped up and took hold of her. She let him hug her. âI miss her. She was terrific. So intense. She never wasted a single minute. Not like the rest of us, drinking and everything. She could work for three days and nights straight. Does that sound like a porno freak to you?â
I shook my head. I was the only one sitting down but her anger was so strong that I felt she should have the stage, have the space to
Learning to Kill: Stories