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Back Man at the Window Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. One
  3. Two
  4. Three
  5. Four
  6. Five
  7. Six
  8. Seven
  9. Eight
  10. Nine
  11. Ten
  12. Eleven
  13. Twelve
  14. Thirteen
  15. Fourteen
  16. Fifteen
  17. Sixteen
  18. Seventeen
  19. Eighteen
  20. Nineteen
  21. Twenty
  22. Twenty-One
  23. Twenty-Two
  24. Twenty-Three
  25. Twenty-Four
  26. Twenty-Five
  27. Twenty-Six
  28. Twenty-Seven
  29. Twenty-Eight
  30. Twenty-Nine
  31. Thirty
  32. Thirty-One
  33. Thirty-Two
  34. Thirty-Three
  35. Thirty-Four
  36. Thirty-Five
  37. Thirty-Six
  38. Thirty-Seven
  39. Thirty-Eight
  40. Thirty-Nine
  41. Forty
  42. Forty-One
  43. Forty-Two
  44. Forty-Three
  45. Forty-Four
  46. Forty-Five
  47. Forty-Six
  48. Forty-Seven
  49. Forty-Eight
  50. Forty-Nine
  51. Fifty
  52. Fifty-One
  53. Fifty-Two
  54. Fifty-Three
  55. Fifty-Four
  56. Fifty-Five
  57. Fifty-Six
  58. Fifty-Seven
  59. Fifty-Eight
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the author

Back at the Humber, he held out his cigarette packet to Digger and Taylor while admiring the Humber’s running boards and the elegant sweep of the bodywork.

‘Nice old car,’ he said.

‘Piece of shit,’ Digger replied taking a cigarette.

Cardilini drove to the front gate, feeling elated; he could finally close the trap on the bastards. The shot was definitely made from the school, just how he’d figured. McBride was right first up. Sheppard, Doney and Williamson were responsible – there was no doubt now.

He knew why the local police wrote the report they did. ‘Sound can be funny,’ wouldn’t look very intelligent. He wanted to go to the local station but knew he could be risking too much already. He went home, satisfied, and decided to clean out the weeds along the side of the house. If there was enough light, he would prune that bloody tea tree.

Forty-Seven

FORTY-SEVEN

Day 19

St Nicholas College

8.00 p.m. Thursday, 12th November 1965

The boy felt the blanket before he saw it. It cut across his back like a scimitar. It was the slash of it that woke him up. It was evening; he was lying on a bed in sick bay. His body didn’t want to move. His eyes and ears travelled to the door, he could hear voices, then Mr Abbott entered and called back through the door, ‘His eyes are open.’

The nurse pushed past him. She didn’t do it on purpose, she pushed everyone. She was round like a bowling ball and was known as Four Stars because she travelled to the four points of the compass as she walked. She’d been called that for generations, every boy’s father could tell stories about Four Stars. When walking on the quadrangle paths the little kids stood to the side because you didn’t know from which star of the compass she would attack as she walked past. For a while, the tough kids banged into her so she would swing a beefy arm at them and they would duck away laughing. Some boys she would chase for several steps swinging her arms. Everyone loved it when she clobbered another kid by mistake. It got so bad that a boy was suspended and a teacher had to walk with her. The boys, and even Four Stars it was said, missed the fun. It was whispered she had accidentally killed a boy.

Four Stars pushed her face at the boy. It filled his vision, bright blue eyes surrounded by florid, puffy cheeks, thick lips around a mouth that never closed. Never closed on a barely contained tongue that seemed to breathe for her. To tell a boy he’d been kissing Four Stars was enough to cause a fight. She was so close the boy thought she might kiss him.