‘Don’t move!’ I ordered. ‘Or I’ll set the dog on you again!’ I pulled my phone from my back pocket and with shaking hands dialled the police station.

Jane picked up.

‘I’ve got an offender’s-on at my place,’ I told her. ‘I need a car …’ I shone my torch on the man. Saw blood. ‘And send an ambulance.’

‘Jeez, what did you do to this one?’ said Jane, a note of awe in her voice.

‘It wasn’t me this time; it was Waffles.’

I knew that the car and the ambulance were at least ten minutes away and that gave me time alone with the man. By the time I finished on the phone to Jane, my breathing had slowed, although Waffles was still panting a bit, and his long tongue was hanging out. There was also drool.

‘What’s your name?’ My voice was lower now, more menacing. Waffles picked up on it and growled.

‘I need a doctor,’ the man cried, rolling from side to side, clutching his arm.

I searched his distorted features for a face I recognised. Nope. I’d never seen this man before. What the hell was he doing in my shed? How did he get here? Did he hide because he heard Waffles bark? If so, what was he doing on my property? He writhed. I understood his pain since I had clocked him one with the torch and Waffles had bitten him. The arm was sure to be broken and he would probably need surgery for the bites. While he was preoccupied with his pain, I moved closer. Waffles stayed at my heels.

‘Lie still,’ I said, then patted him down for weapons. The last thing I wanted was for the guy to pull another knife on the ambos. His legs and ankles were clear. Bulk in his shirt pocket turned out to be a phone. I grabbed it out and put it on the ground, out of his reach. While the man writhed in pain, I rolled him over and pulled keys and a wallet from his back pocket. I flicked open the wallet.

Just as the sirens made themselves heard in the distance, I pulled out a licence. Looked at the picture, then compared it to the man. Both looked like thugs.

‘Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Matthew Bunting,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing right now you’re rethinking your late-night visit to my house.’

‘Bitch,’ he snarled and tried to sit up.

Waffles jumped forward and bit him on the leg. The man screamed with pain.

I called him off. ‘The thing with police dogs,’ I told Bunting, ‘is if they perceive a threat to their handler, they’re trained to attack. So you might want to reconsider your tone.’

RECORD OF INTERVIEW

RECORD OF INTERVIEW

Record of Conversation between Constable Randall Casey and Matthew Bunting conducted at Deception Bay Hospital, Friday, 19 September, 10.13 pm