Old Valley Road Hotel

---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Old Valley Road Hotel.

By Wombat. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Any constructive comments are appreciated. I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Nifty Readers, If you enjoy this story or others on Nifty, please send a generous donation to Nifty.org at 'http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html' to help support and maintain this free service full of wonderful stories so it may continue to remain available to everyone.

Thank you all, Wombat ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7 - 'A Rainy Day' Part 31.

------------------------------------ Part 91: ? ------------------------------------

On the Sunday following Bryn's disappearance, Ellis went and visited Roman and Bill. He told them that Bryn had vanished from a party a week previously. He also told them of the involvement of the police. The two men were very sympathetic. Ellis struggled to hold back his tears.

Ellis tired of having a bowl of cereal for breakfast all alone in his spacious apartment during the week. Samantha started work later than Marica did and Marica used to cook breakfast for both Bryn and Ellis. Ellis took to having breakfast downstairs in the cafe.

One morning Suzie placed his breakfast and coffee down in front of him. She was smiling broadly.

"Do you mind if I sit with you a minute?" she asked.

"Not at all, provided your mother doesn't mind," replied Ellis.

"She's OK," replied Suzie and sat down. She asked, "Ellis, do you know your housekeeper has got a man spending the night with her?"

"No but I'm not surprised," Ellis said taking a sip from his coffee.

Suzie laughed.

"He's very good-looking," she said. "I saw him again this morning coming down in the lift with her. He's one of those real Aussie types, tall, dark and handsome and bulging with muscles, but his aren't as big as yours though. And he's got a real tan. He's really dishy."

Ellis gave a wry smile.

"I think I know who he is," he said.

"Oh? You're being mysterious."

"I'm not going to say anything until I find out for sure."

"Oh, alright."

Suzie smiled and got up from the table.

Sam was already at work in the penthouse when Ellis arrived back from his breakfast.

Ellis strolled up to her smiling broadly.

"I hear you have a tall, dark and handsome stranger spending the night with you," he said.

Sam coloured.

"Yes, what of it?" she asked.

"He wouldn't be Detective Sergeant Bruce McIlroy by any chance, would he?"

Sam's eyes narrowed as she looked at Ellis.

"Yes, he is," she replied defensively.

"Why don't you cook breakfast for him up here instead of in your flat? You're perfectly welcome to," he said.

Sam's face brightened.

"Why, thank you Ellis ever so much," she said. "That would be super. Your kitchen is so much better up here and it's so awfully cramped down in the flat."

"It's a wonder you can fit someone as big as Bruce McIlroy in your flat," Ellis laughed.

"It's a squeeze, but a nice squeeze," she giggled. "Look, why don't you join Bruce and me for breakfast when I cook it up here? I don't mind at all cooking for the three of us and it would be nice to have your company. It'd be better than having to have breakfast all by yourself in the cafe."

"Are you sure that's alright?"

"Of course I'm sure! I wouldn't have asked you otherwise."

"OK. Yes. Thank you. I'd like that. Maybe it'll help keep me sane until Bryn turns up."

"Golly, it's been a while, like over a week now."

"Yes. It's been one week and three days since he disappeared."

"Oh dear! That's awful. I do hope you find him safe and sound."

"Yes, thanks. So do I. So do I."

"You must be missing him dreadfully."

"I am."

"Oh, by the way, Bruce does have to get to work on time. His inspector sounds like a real martinet so we won't be able to wait for you if you're late coming down."

"She'll be right. Don't forget I'm a working man too. I've got to give a couple of nine o'clock tutorials every week so I've got to get to the university at a reasonable time, not to mention preparing the tutes and marking the students' assignments and doing the paperwork, etcetera, etcetera."

"Good! It'd be beaut to see you."

"Thanks."

The next morning Sam and Bruce turned up for breakfast at Ellis's penthouse. Sam was grinning broadly. Bruce was smiling. He looked tired but happy. Ellis and Bruce quickly established that they should call each other by their first names. As Sam remarked, 'Detective Sergeant McIlroy' sounded so frightfully formal.

Ellis and Bruce were sitting down at the breakfast table overlooking the harbour while Sam was cooking in the kitchen. She was singing.

"She sounds happy," remarked Ellis.

"Yeah," replied Bruce.

"Sounds like you're doing a good job keeping her happy," Ellis said with a smile.

Bruce coloured. He looked down but didn't say anything.

"Well, it's good that she is happy," Ellis continued. "Provided you keep her happy. It looks like you're doing a good job."

"Er, thanks." Bruce looked embarrassed.

"Look, don't worry about it," said Ellis. "I'm not worried. It's just that the whole bloody building is talking about my housekeeper and her boyfriend, the tall dark and handsome stranger. I'm glad I'm not down in the cafe 'cos they'll all be wanting to know the details."

"Shit!"

"Look, Bruce, don't worry about it. There's no need to. Most of the people in this building are old farts who're bloody jealous of you and Sam, you know, young love and all that. I'm cool about it and that's all that matters as far as I'm concerned."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. I really do."

"No worries."

They sat at the table in silence for a little while looking out the windows over the harbour. The view they could see was stupendous. They could see the boats at anchor in Elizabeth and Rushcutters Bays, the Sydney Harbour Bridge off to the left, the sails of the Sydney Opera House, the Garden Island naval base, Clark Island out in the middle of the harbour, Bradleys Head and beyond it a glimpse of the open ocean past the Sydney Heads. Bruce visibly relaxed.

"That view would be worth a few million dollars," he remarked.

"Guess it would be," replied Ellis.

"What? Don't you know? How much did you pay for this place?"

"I didn't. I inherited it."

"Oh, right. It sure is a fantastic place you got here. I had a look around yesterday. You were still out at Uni."

"Oh yes?"

"Yeah, Sam showed me around. I hope you didn't mind. She said you wouldn't."

"Nah! That's OK."

"It sure has a lot of rooms. You could raise a family here, no worries. Or run a boarding house just about."

"Yeah. Sure."

"I reckon you could hide someone here easy."

Ellis was aware that the policeman was watching him closely.

He snorted with derisive laughter. "I s'pose you could. I can't think of anyone I'd want to hide though."

"How about Doctor Powys?" Bruce asked.

"It'd be bloody hard hiding someone as big as Bryn. You know how big he is."

"Er... no."

"Take it from me, Bruce. He's huge. He'd be your height and he'd have fifty or sixty kilos (110 or 130 lb.) of solid muscle on you. Anyhow, if it does turn out that by some chance he really did kill Alfie, I'd be seriously reassessing our relationship. In any case he's drummed it into me during my martial arts training that violence should never be used except in the most extreme circumstances. He wasn't happy when I took out those sixteen rugby players years ago. And I simply can't see how Alfie could've presented any sort of threat to Bryn. He sounds like a pretty small, skinny and inoffensive sort of guy and he's brain-damaged too. Bryn's a genius. If Alfie had got too obnoxious, Bryn would have done the parent-child thing and told Alfie to stop being a silly little boy and behave himself. If Alfie still carried on, Bryn would've just turned on his heel and walked back to the Truman house leaving Alfie alone in the dark street.

Don't forget, Bruce, the reason why Bryn was accompanying Alfie to his car was Alfie was afraid to go back to his car on his own in the dark. Doctor James Truman asked Bryn to leave the party and escort Alfie to his car because Alfie wanted to go home. There's absolutely no possible reason why Bryn would ever want to murder Alfie."

"Hmm. Yeah."

"I'm just thinking, Bruce. Do you reckon there's any chance that the guys who bashed Alfie previously and gave him brain damage, came back and like, finished off the job?"

"Oh God! I don't know!"

"Did you guys ever catch whoever did the bashings?"

"Nup."

"So they never got caught. Have you guys any idea who might have done the dastardly deeds?"

"Nope."

"So I guess you can't go and ask them."

"Nope!" Bruce looked at Ellis with a resigned smile.

"Sorry. I'm just tossing around ideas," Ellis apologised.

"She'll be right. Don't worry about it. Just keep having those ideas. We might just get somewhere."

"Thanks."

Another silence.

Then Bruce said, "Ellis, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh yes?" asked Ellis.

"We checked out your alibi with all the people you mentioned and you're completely in the clear. You're cleared of any suspicion of involvement in Nugent's murder."

"That's good. Thanks for telling me," replied Ellis levelly.

"No worries," said Bruce. "The boss has been meaning to tell you officially but he hasn't got around to it."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. I guess you're telling me officially now."

Bruce laughed, "I reckon so. Yeah, you can take it as official. If the boss does get round to telling you, don't tell him I already told you. He might not take it well and I'll get told off for jumping the gun."

"Sure. I won't say a word to him."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"No worries."

"You know something, Ellis? All your Croatian friends gave you a rave review. They reckoned you were a real hit at the old guy's hundredth birthday, 'specially when you gave that speech in Croatian."

"Yeah, they're all good people."

"You know something else? Miss Alison Beaumont reckoned you were really pissed when you kissed her boyfriend. She said you were a very merry drunk. The boss and I reckon it's highly unlikely you had anything to do with Nugent's death, you were so drunk. And there's no evidence that you were anywhere near the scene of the crime. You dropped Mr and Mrs Matic off on the way in the taxi and they live not that far from here and they said you'd been drinking a lot."

"That's nice."

"The cabbie certainly remembered you. He reckoned you and your friends were a rowdy lot, you and Mr and Mrs Matic all singing away in the back of the cab. He said you were all singing in some foreign language."

"Yeah, we were singing Croatian songs."

"You see, the cabbie was a Japanese guy. It was all Greek to him."

Ellis laughed, "I guess it was."

"The cabbie was very impressed with your generosity. You tipped him a hundred dollars, one of the new green hundred-dollar bills. That was on top of you telling him to keep the change out of fifty dollars. He did pretty well out of you."

"I wondered what I did with that hundred-dollar note."

"You'd forgotten?"

"Yeah, I must have."

"It happens. People kept telling us what a merry drunk you were that night."

"God! I hope I didn't do any stupid."

"No, nothing much that people told us, apart from smooching Clint Walker in the lift," laughed Bruce.

"Shit. I guess I'll never be allowed to forget it."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. Anyway, Ellis, there's something else I should tell you. We found Nugent's car a couple of days ago. It was parked in the carpark of Etienne's restaurant at Double Bay."

"What was it doing there?" asked Ellis.

"Don't know. We went over it for fingerprints and the only ones we found inside it belonged to Alfred Nugent."

"So he would've driven it there himself. Did you find Bryn's fingerprints in it?"

"No! Not at all. There was no sign of Doctor Powys's fingerprints anywhere at all inside the car. We did find his handprint on the roof over the driver's side door but that's the only one we found. The car's a green 1965 Morris Mini Deluxe and there aren't too many of those around these days. It sticks out like dog's balls. It's in bloody good nick for a car its age, like it's over thirty years old, and it's undamaged. A patrol spotted it and we went over it with a fine tooth comb. There was nothing that indicated anyone else apart from Nugent had been inside the car."

"So Alfie drove the car there himself. Why?"

"Bloody good question. We don't know."

"I thought Alfie was afraid of the dark."

"The carpark where he left it is pretty well lit up."

"Hm. How did he get into the water then?"

"Someone or some persons smashed his skull, carried him down to the water which is less than half a kilometre (500 yards) away and tossed him in. He's pretty small. He only weighed about 40 kilos (88 lb) so it wouldn't have taken much to carry his body that far."

"Yeah, OK, I guess that sounded like a silly question. I'm thinking aloud. You'd think somebody would've seen someone carrying a dead body through the streets of Double Bay. I'd be surprised if no-one hadn't."

"Yeah. It was at night though. We doorknocked the area but 'no-one seen nuttin'', not that they'd tell us anyhow. Rich people live there. Nobody wants to get involved."

"I see. So, where exactly was he found?"

"Floating in the water just off the Sydney Opera House. A mob of English tourists off a cruise liner saw the dead body floating past. A TV news crew was there too. The dead body floating past the Opera House led the Channel Nine news that night and for a couple of days afterwards."

"I reckon it would've given the tourists a thrill," Ellis said with a wry smile.

"Yeah, it sure did! At least that's what they told the TV cameras," laughed Bruce. "I hate to think what they'd be thinking over in Pommyland with all these dead bodies floating in the harbour."

Ellis continued his train of thought: "So his body probably might've floated west from Double Bay on the incoming tide. It was found on Sunday, so Inspector Hunter told me, so it would've been chucked in the water the previous night from Double Bay, let's say around twelve hours previously. Have you guys checked the tide tables?"

"Nup."

"OK. Might be an idea. I wonder when Bryn took Alfie to his car."

"As far as we can ascertain, it wasn't that late in the evening when they left the party."

"Yeah. Have you guys considered the possibility that Bryn's disappearance and Alfie's murder are two separate incidents? They might have nothing to do with each other. They may be coincidental but unrelated."

"You don't like the idea that your boyfriend is a murderer."

"No! I definitely don't! After all, it is only a theory at this stage that Bryn might've killed Alfie. As far as I know, you and your colleagues have not turned up any direct evidence that would point to Bryn killing Alfie. However, that's not the question. The question is, have you considered the possibility that the two incidents are unrelated?"

"The boss doesn't think it's likely."

"Right now I'm not interested in what Detective Inspector Hunter thinks. I think you should definitely consider the possibility, Bruce. You might get somewhere with your investigation. New lines of enquiry could open up. Would Hunter allow you to pursue independent lines of enquiry?"

"I think so."

"Well, I'd do it if I were you."

"Breakfast's ready," Sam called from the kitchen. "Can I have some help getting all the stuff out please?"

Bruce put his big hand on Ellis's shoulder. "You stay there, mate," he said. "I'll go and help her."

A thrill ran through Ellis's body at the pressure of Bruce's hand.

"Thanks mate." Ellis smiled up at him as Bruce stood up.

The following Saturday morning Ellis was in Cafe Juliana's as usual having breakfast with Geoffrey. They were talking about Bryn's disappearance. Geoffrey said rumours were buzzing around about Bryn and the hospital administration were seriously considering going public. Professor Pszczolinski was putting the pressure on for publicity. He wanted help from the public to find Bryn. He was very worried about Bryn and the future of the hospital's AIDS research program. He had confided in Geoffrey that he feared that the research would grind to a halt without Bryn. The police had requested the hospital administration not to go public about Bryn's disappearance because of their concerns that their investigation would be jeopardised. However, many besides the professor in the hospital's Department of Immunology and elsewhere in the hospital were becoming increasingly agitated.

While Ellis and Geoffrey were deep in conversation, they did not see Clint walking up to their table. He was alone.

"OK, Ellis, you know your housekeeper?" he said loudly standing at their table.

Ellis looked up at him and asked, "Yes? What about her?"

"That guy who's screwing her, do you know he's a fucking cop?" Clint was almost shouting.

The other people in the cafe looked at Clint.

"Yes. I know. What about it?" replied Ellis quietly.

"He's a cunt!" Clint shouted.

"Why?" asked Ellis.

Geoffrey looked at Clint open-mouthed.

"That big muscly cunt sent me to jail!" cried Clint angrily.

"Whatever for?" asked Ellis feigning innocence.

"Yeah, just because I had a fucking screwdriver on me. And that fucking big cunt got me sent to jail all because of that!"

"I see. Um, Clint, now that you've told everyone here in the cafe that you're a jailbird with a criminal record, you may as well sit down and have a cup of coffee with us. It'll be on me, mate."

Clint looked taken aback by Ellis's reaction. Geoffrey was staring at Clint wide-eyed with surprise.

"What are you staring at me like that for?" Clint demanded of Geoffrey.

"Er...er...," Geoffrey started.

Ellis interrupted him with, "He got a real surprise when he found out that a nice young fellow like you has got a criminal past. I wouldn't hold it against him."

Clint gave Ellis a strange look. Then he rolled his eyes, smiled with resignation and sat down at the table with Ellis and Geoffrey. Ellis signalled Natalie to get Clint a cup of coffee.

"I haven't seen Bryn around for a while," Clint observed. "Has he gone away?"

Ellis suddenly became serious.

"That's one way of putting it," he said.

"Has he left you?" asked Clint concerned.

"I don't know."

Clint looked at Ellis puzzled.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Bryn's disappeared," said Ellis. "I don't know where or how. He went to a friend's birthday party Saturday before last, the same night I went to the Croatian Club and got drunk as a skunk. I haven't seen or heard a thing from him since. He's just vanished, vanished into bloody thin air." Ellis's voice wobbled with emotion.

Clint looked at Ellis. His face was a mixture of surprise and concern. Natalie placed a mug of coffee in front of Clint.

"Shit! I hope he's alright," Clint said.

"Yeah, mate, so do I. So do I," breathed Ellis. "Very much so!"

"Oh fuck. I'm really sorry to hear that. Bryn's a good bloke."

"Ellis has reported him missing to the police," said Geoffrey. "They're out looking for him now."

"God! I hope they find him."

Ellis looked at Clint steadily. "That brings me to Detective Sergeant Bruce McIlroy, the man who's shagging my housekeeper. He's in the Homicide Squad now. I doubt very much that he would be at all interested in your activities now, Clint. He's got bigger fish to fry, like trying to find Bryn."

"Homicide Squad? Does that mean the cops think he's been murdered?"

"I don't know but I do know that they think he may know something about the dead body they fished out of the harbour last week. They're very keen to find him and find out what he knows. He may be one of the last people to see the dead man alive."

"Shit! This is getting worse. Do the cops think Bryn killed him?"

"Some do. Some don't."

"That's bloody awful! Bryn wouldn't do a thing like that."

"That's exactly what I think, Clint."

Clint took a long swig from his coffee mug. He looked overwhelmed. The three men sat in silence.

Clint's mobile phone rang. He answered.

"Hi Ally," he said.

He listened. Ellis could hear Alison's voice emanating from the phone. It was not quite loud enough to understand.

Clint said into the phone, "I'm down in the cafe having a cup of coffee with Ellis and Geoff."

He listened some more then said, "OK, I'll see you in the carpark downstairs in five. I got some news to tell you. Love ya."

He put the phone down and said to Ellis and Geoffrey, "That's a bugger. Ally is going to have breakfast with her friends and she wants me to come with her. Sorry, I gotta go. No choice, I'm afraid."

"OK. Have fun," said Ellis.

Clint gave a crooked smile. He swigged down the rest of his coffee, stood up and left the table.

Geoffrey watched him leave the cafe. He had an odd little smile on his face.

"I wonder if Clint is Alison's trophy boyfriend," he said slowly.

"Sorry. What...?" started Ellis taken by surprise.

"You know how some fellows have trophy wives. I'm just wondering if Clint is Alison's trophy boyfriend. He comes across as a pretty rough tough sort of guy, you know. He's got big muscles, he's pretty bloody strong and he's all covered in tattoos and now we find out he's got a criminal record, like he's been to gaol and all that. You know, I think Alison likes showing him off to her friends, like you know, her bit of rough, her walk on the wild side, like make her nice safe suburban housewife friends with nice safe boring husbands in nice safe boring jobs all green with envy."

Ellis smiled wryly.

"You know, Geoff," he said, "you surprise me with what you come up with."

They sat in silence.

"You know, underneath it all Clint's basically a decent sort of guy," Ellis said after a while.

"Yes, he seems to be. You get on with him well," replied Geoffrey.

"Yeah, despite that moment of passion in the lift Saturday before last."

Geoffrey laughed, "Well, he seems to have forgiven you."

A stout middle-aged woman walked over and sat down at their table. She was expensively dressed.

"A moment of your time if you please, gentlemen," she said with a supercilious smirk. "I am Mrs Richard Plunkett. We own the blue and silver Rolls-Royces that parked near your cars, Mr De la Mare. My husband owns Executive Programmed Servicing Proprietary Limited. I must say I was shocked but not at all surprised to hear that man who was just sitting with you has a criminal record. I am not a little surprised that you two gentlemen, Doctor Bland and Mr De la Mare, would have anything to do with such an uncouth individual. He really does lower the tone of the whole place. He certainly doesn't belong here. He's definitely not one of us. It's just so awful that he's cohabiting with a nice girl like Alison Beaumont. She's such a nice girl from a really nice sound family. I asked her the other day why she puts up with that man. She looked at me with her big blue eyes and do you know what she said to me? She told me he's got a big penis, just like that! I couldn't believe my ears. I was so shocked."

Geoffrey and Ellis looked at one another and started laughing. Their laughter built until they were leaning against each other helpless with laughter with tears running down their cheeks.

Mrs Plunkett looked at them. Her eyes narrowed with exasperation.

"I don't know what's got into you two. It's not funny at all," she scolded.

The two men's laughter gradually dissipated. They finally stopped laughing. They looked at one another grinning.

"You two are behaving like a couple of schoolboys," declared Mrs Plunkett crossly. "That wasn't funny at all."

Ellis looked her straight in the eye and stated clearly, "On the contrary, Mrs Plunkett, it was extremely funny when you declared to everyone here in the cafe that Clint Walker has got a big penis."

"Oh, really, Mr De la Mare, I'm surprised at you. Very well then. You're the homosexual. Do you think that man is attractive?"

"Yes! Very much so! He certainly has plenty of animal appeal. He's a very sexy man indeed. However, I wouldn't do anything about it unless I was extremely drunk."

Geoffrey dissolved into laughter again.

"Oh really, Doctor Bland, you do laugh at the most childish things!" exclaimed Mrs Plunkett.

"It is his privilege," said Ellis smiling.

"Oh good heavens! Well, I won't waste your time any longer. Good day to you both."

With that Mrs Plunkett departed their table.

Ellis rolled his eyes at Geoffrey who started laughing again.

When Geoffrey simmered down again, he said, "That woman is so Hyacinth Bucket. I'm sure that Plunkett woman has modelled herself on her."

"Who's Hyacinth Bucket?" asked Ellis.

"She prefers to be known as 'Hyacinth Bouquet'," laughed Geoffrey.

"Yeah? So?"

"Haven't you ever watched that program 'Keeping Up Appearances' on TV, on the ABC?"

"Nup. We hardly ever watch TV."

"What, with that extravagantly magnificent television apparatus you've got sitting in your living room? What do you do most evenings?"

"I'm usually balls deep up Bryn's arse."

"Oh! I see!" laughed Geoffrey.

"God! I miss him!" exclaimed Ellis suddenly overwhelmed by the vacancy in his life.

"Well, let's see what tomorrow brings. The press conference at the hospital is likely to go ahead despite what the police say. It may jog someone's memory. Let's hope so."

"By God, I hope he turns up alive and well."

"So do I, Ellis. So do I."

The following afternoon, a Sunday, a press conference was held at the hospital. Senior medical staff told how Bryn's disappearance was completely unexplained and out of character.

Professor Pszczolinski told of Bryn's ground-breaking research into AIDS and reminded the journalists present that Doctor Bryn Powys was popularly known as the AIDS doctor. He was close to tears as he pleaded for people to come forward with any information they might have concerning Bryn's disappearance. He said that it was of the utmost importance that Bryn's work continued because it would save humanity from the scourge of AIDS and other nasty viral diseases. It would free the human race from disease throughout the whole world.

Geoffrey described how Bryn led the Gay Mardi Gras parade with his boyfriend Ellis de la Mare also known as Captain Marvel, the man who was completely immune to AIDS.

There was a barrage of questions from the journalists. Nothing was known of how Bryn disappeared.

Then a male journalist asked if there were any suspicions that the right-wing Christians led by the New South Wales State politician and Protestant Christian minister the Reverend Jeremiah Jordan might have been responsible for Bryn's disappearance in order to stop the search for a cure for AIDS which the right-wing Christians said was God's judgement upon homosexuals. Jordan had said in State Parliament that it was blasphemy to try and cure AIDS. It would invite the wrath of God.

That caused an uproar. Professor Pszczolinski said that he personally had no knowledge of such a plot which he angrily declared would be not only most unchristian but the work of Satan. He passionately repeated his plea that anyone who saw, heard or knew of anything that might possibly have some connection with the disappearance of Doctor Powys come forward and give their information to the police. It was most important for the sake of humanity that Doctor Powys was found again. He said that Bryn's search for a cure for AIDS had application to the control of other infective viral diseases like Ebola and Marburg virus, Virulent Hantavirus and whatever other nasty viruses that may be lurking in the hot zones of the world, not to mention influenza, SARS, swine flu and the common cold. It was also very likely that Bryn's work would carry over into the control of infective bacterial and parasitical diseases like the Black Death, anthrax, golden staph, cholera, malaria, tuberculosis, syphilis, flesh-eating disease and meningococcal disease. The professor said Bryn's work could protect the human race from the threat of biological weapons wielded by terrorists and rogue states. He reiterated that Bryn's work could rid the human race completely of infectious diseases.

Ellis watched the press conference on his television set in his living room.

The next morning the police gave a press conference. It was chaired by Detective Chief Superintendent Bristow, the officer in charge of the Homicide Squad. Detective Inspector Hunter featured. DCS Bristow reiterated Professor Pszczolinski's plea that anyone with any information about Doctor Powys's disappearance come forward and tell them. DI Hunter gave a detailed description of Doctor Powys. He mentioned that Doctor Powys may have information about the dead body that was found floating in the harbour near the Sydney Opera House. He hinted that Doctor Powys was under suspicion. When a reporter tried to pin him down, Hunter refused to elaborate but he repeated that Doctor Powys may be able to assist police in the murder investigation because he was known to be one of the last people to see the murder victim alive. The police very much wanted to get any information that he might have.

At the time Ellis was at work at Sydney University. He was in his office marking student assignments when Doctor Ivanovic came and invited him to watch the press conference on the television set in the staff common room along with the rest of the school staff.

That evening at the gym, the members were agog over Bryn's disappearance. It was hard for Ellis as he had to tell all the details to the hard-core gang, the men who worked out with Bryn and Ellis. However, they were all very supportive of Ellis who was feeling Bryn's absence acutely.

The following morning was a Tuesday. Sam cooked breakfast for Bruce McIlroy and Ellis in Ellis's penthouse.

"Well, the shit has hit the fan," remarked Bruce.

"I guess it's a good thing it's all out in the open," replied Ellis.

"I'm not so sure about that. It's turning into a real shit-storm with a media circus thrown in for good measure."

"Why?" asked Sam.

"Well, for a start some bloody smart-arse shit-stirrer reporter implied on Sunday that Reverend Jeremiah Jordan is involved in Doctor Powys's disappearance and now people are actually coming out and saying Jordan is responsible for getting Doctor Powys killed and Alfred Nugent as well. It is all getting so bloody messy. And now fucking Jordan is trying to dredge up some hoary old British law from the Dark Ages that says it's illegal for people to bring members of parliament into disrepute in any way at all."

"What's the penalty? Hanging?" asked Ellis with a bitter laugh.

"I thought the death penalty was abolished here years ago," put in Sam.

"Yes, Sam, it was," replied Bruce. "You can't hang people here anymore or put them to death in any other way either, not in this country anyway."

"I would have thought an ancient British law like that wouldn't be valid here in Australia," remarked Ellis. "How would Jordan go putting that case in the High Court?"

"Hopefully he'd get shat upon from a great height," laughed Bruce.

"Anyone for more coffee?" asked Sam.

She poured coffee for Bruce and Ellis and herself.

They were mulling over their coffee when Ellis said, "I know a former client of yours, Bruce. Apparently you put him away for a while."

"Oh yeah. What's his name?" asked Bruce.

"Clint Walker," replied Ellis.

"What, Clint? Miss Beaumont's boyfriend?" asked Sam. "That hunk with the muscles and the tatts?"

"Yep, him," said Ellis.

"Can't recall him offhand. Say some more," said Bruce

"Did he go to gaol or something?" asked Sam.

"Yep, he did. I don't know how long for though," replied Ellis.

"Well I never! Fancy that! What was it for?" asked Sam all agog.

"He told me it was for having a screwdriver on him."

"Clint Walker, that name's ringing a bell. Ellis, wasn't he the guy you kissed in the lift the night you went to the Croatian Club and Doctor Powys disappeared?" asked Bruce.

"Yes, he was," replied Ellis with a wan smile. "He is very kissable."

"Oh, yes, Ellis, I heard you absolutely pashed him in the lift that night," laughed Sam. "Miss Beaumont just about had to hit you over the head with her handbag to get you off him."

Bruce burst out laughing. He shook with laughter.

"Word sure gets around," said Ellis with a hollow laugh.

"Oh, now I remember him," said Bruce when he had settled down. "He was one of my first arrests. That was bloody years ago."

"He hasn't forgotten or forgiven you, Bruce," remarked Ellis.

"Why would you go to gaol for having a screwdriver for Heaven's sake?" asked Sam puzzled. "Most people do keep screwdrivers. I've got a set down in my flat. People often want me to tighten up their cupboard door hinges and all that."

"True confessions," laughed Ellis.

"It depends a lot on the circumstances," said Bruce. "Now I remember. Clinton Dean Walker was carrying a sharpened screwdriver in the street on Oxford Street in Darlinghurst one night when we stopped him. You can do a lot of damage with a sharpened screwdriver, 'specially a strong muscly guy like him. When I asked him what it was for, he said it was for protection. Bang! Gotcha! He as good as admitted it was an offensive weapon. For that little offence he got three months in the slammer."

"Well goodness me!" exclaimed Sam. "So Clint is a jailbird! Fancy that! I wonder if Miss Beaumont knows."

"If she doesn't, someone's bound to tell her and soon," said Ellis. "Clint blew his top about you, Bruce, down in the cafe last Saturday in front of a whole lot of people. Everyone there would've heard that he went to gaol. And to top it all off, one Mrs Richard Plunkett came to our table afterwards and told Geoff and me and everyone else in the cafe in horrified tones that Clint's got a big penis!"

Bruce burst out laughing. Coffee spilled out from the mug he was holding and splashed all over the tablecloth in front of him.

"Oh Bruce, you're making such a mess!" scolded Sam.

Bruce was still shaking with laughter. He managed to put the coffee mug down and held his head in his hands as he laughed.

Ellis found the nights hard to bear. He felt terribly alone. Weeks had passed since Bryn disappeared. Still there was no sign of him, not a trace. No-one seemed to have a clue as to what had really happened to Bryn. Why did Bryn disappear? How did Bryn disappear? What happened to Bryn? The questions hung heavily without answers.

Many nights Ellis sat alone in darkness in the living room of the penthouse. He would stare out through the windows at the lights of the Sydney CBD reflecting off the heaving waters of the harbour.

He could sense depression stalking him like a night beast in the darkness waiting for the chance to rush in and consume him. He missed terribly the man he loved. He hated living on his own without Bryn yet he refused to make any contact with his family. He did have lunch with Leon but he found it difficult. Leon was trying hard, too hard. Ellis found the sympathy and the concern tedious.

One morning Ellis received a strained phone call from Doctor James Truman. He was finishing off breakfast with Sam and Bruce.

Sam had answered the phone. She handed the cordless phone handset to Ellis at the breakfast table saying the call was from Doctor Truman.

James told Ellis that his mother had come down from Coonabarabran in the north of New South Wales to stay with him and his wife. His mother had discovered a large man's shirt hanging on the hook behind her bedroom door and she suspected Debbie of having an affair behind her son's back. In the breast pocket was a set of Ferrari keys to which was attached a leather label with the name 'Bryn' tooled into it. James described the shirt as being short-sleeved and having red and blue stripes on a white background.

Ellis immediately recognised the shirt as the one Bryn was wearing when he went to Debbie's birthday party. The keys were definitely Bryn's keys to the Ferrari.

Ellis was very aware that he had a policeman sitting at the breakfast table with him. He said to James that he had promised the police that he would let them know as soon as possible if he came across any clues or evidence relating to Bryn's disappearance. A couple of police officers would arrive with him. James sounded nonplussed. He said he would wait for them but he had patients to see that morning.

Ellis put the handset down on the table and said, "Right, Bruce, you're with me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Sam asked what was going on.

Ellis explained to them both the gist of James' phone call. He told them that he felt that Bryn's shirt and car keys were material evidence.

"Yeah, you're dead right there, mate," declared Bruce.

Bruce used Ellis's phone to call Detective Inspector Hunter. He told Hunter that Bryn's shirt and car keys had been found at the Truman house and that he was on his way there now with Ellis. Ellis would be able to make a positive identification of the shirt. Hunter would meet them at the Truman house.

Ellis made a quick phone call to the School of Eastern European Studies and informed the receptionist that he was going to be late that morning. Something had come up about Bryn.

Sam raised her eyebrows and sighed with resignation. Ellis and Bruce left.

Bruce's car, a hotted-up cobalt blue Tickford-Ford Falcon GT, was parked in the basement car park with a police sticker visible on its dashboard. Ellis drove his Ferrari and he was hot on Bruce's heels in his car as they drove out of the car park. Bruce knew the way to the Truman house as he had been there several times before during the investigation and Ellis followed him. Every now and then the Falcon's big V8 would bellow loudly as it accelerated through gaps in the heavy morning peak hour traffic. Bruce knew how to drive. Ellis stayed close to his rear bumper all the way. He was glad of his superfast reflexes and his very nimble little Ferrari.

They arrived at the Truman house. James greeted them at the front door. He knew Detective Sergeant McIlroy. Ellis explained that Detective Inspector Hunter was on his way.

James introduced Ellis and the detective sergeant to his mother, Mrs Mary Truman, a stout grey-haired woman in her late middle age. Ellis and Bruce greeted Debbie who appeared irritable.

"Are you a plainclothes police officer?" Mary asked Bruce as she ran her eye over his muscular physique.

"Yes, Ma'am, I'm a detective," replied Bruce.

They moved down the hallway to the spare room in which Mary Truman was staying. Both beds were neatly made. One bed had a suitcase placed on it.

In the bedroom James closed the door. Ellis saw Bryn's shirt hanging up behind the door. He identified it as Bryn's shirt straight away. He took it down off the hook on the back of the door and buried his face in the shirt. The car keys clinked in the breast pocket. His nostrils were filled with the odour of Bryn's body. Tears came into his eyes.

"Yes, that's Bryn's shirt alright," he declared with a wobble in his voice. "It even smells of him. I'd know his smell anywhere. It's definitely the one he wore to Debbie's birthday party. I remember him wearing it."

"So you're confirming that shirt belonged to Doctor Bryn Powys?" asked Bruce slipping into official mode.

"Absolutely. Without a doubt. Like I said, it's even got his smell on it," replied Ellis without hesitation.

"He must be an awfully big man," commented Mary. "That shirt is huge."

"He certainly is a big fellow," said Ellis. "He's 190 centimetres all, about your height, Bruce, and he weighs 160 kilograms of solid muscle, rather more than you do."

"You're spot on with the height, Ellis," replied Bruce, "but he'd be 55 kilos (120 lb.) more than me."

"Look, this new-fashioned metric system means nothing to me," protested Mary. "What do all those measurements mean?"

"He's 6 feet 3 inches tall and he weighs 350 pounds or 25 stones in the old units," replied Ellis. "And he'd be about 8 and a half stones heavier than Bruce here."

"Goodness me, he's a big man!" exclaimed Mary. "What's the nature of your relationship if I may enquire, Ellis?"

"I love him," declared Ellis. "He's my partner and we live together."

"You mean he's your homosexual lover?" asked Mary.

"Yes!" replied Ellis definitely.

"That's disgusting! You are committing a grievous sin in the eyes of God. You are so..."

"Mum! That's enough of that!" James interrupted his mother in a sharp voice. "This is neither the time nor the place to ventilate your opinions. Certainly not in front of the policeman."

Bruce had an odd little smirk on his face. Mary glared at her son then at Ellis.

The doorbell rang loud and long.

"That'd be the boss," said Bruce. "It's a policeman's ring."

"You mean it's Detective Inspector Hunter?" asked Debbie.

"Yes," replied Bruce.

"I'll get it," said Debbie and hurried out of the bedroom.

The people in the room fell silent. There were voices in the hallway.

Debbie re-entered with Detective Inspector Hunter behind her.

Ellis greeted Hunter and shook hands with him. Debbie introduced Hunter to her mother-in-law.

"I may appear dense," said Mary, "but why are you policemen interested in this shirt?"

"It is material evidence in the murder investigation we're conducting, ma'am," replied Hunter. "We believe that the person who wore this shirt may know something about the murder."

"Murder? Whose murder?" queried Mary in a rising voice.

"Mum, a patient of mine, Alfie Nugent, was murdered," said James. "He was at Debbie's birthday party. Bryn Powys, who had been wearing this shirt, kindly walked him back to his car and then disappeared. God alone knows where he is now."

"And Alfie's body was fished out of Sydney Harbour near the Opera House the next day. Someone had smashed his head in with an iron bar," interjected Ellis.

"Oh my! That's dreadful," declared Mary. "James, wasn't Bryn Powys your young medical student friend?"

"Yes, Mum. He's a doctor now," replied James. "Is? Was?"

"I hope it's not 'was'," said Ellis vehemently.

He held up Bryn's shirt and said, "I'm holding Bryn's shirt in my hand. Was Bryn wearing any sort of shirt when he walked Alfie to his car? Or did he go topless?"

"He wasn't wearing a shirt when he left with Alfie," replied James.

"So this man was walking around the streets stripped to the waist flaunting his body. How low-class!" declared Mary.

"Mum, please don't make comments like that," begged James.

Mary caught Ellis's eye. His eyes narrowed as he held her gaze unflinchingly. Mary coloured and looked away.

Ellis went on to ask, "Why? Why was Bryn not wearing a shirt?"

The detectives looked at Ellis and then at Debbie then James. Bruce raised an eyebrow. James looked flustered.

"Um, it was a hot night," James began. "We were all outside and he was dancing a lot. We were all dancing. He got all sweaty so he took his shirt off. Debbie put it here in the spare bedroom and I guess we just sort of forgot about it when Bryn didn't come back for it. Anyway then the children all wanted to feel his big muscles. They were all over him. He didn't seem to mind though. He was very tolerant of them and the kids loved him. They were literally crawling all over him."

"Kids? How many kids were there?" asked Ellis.

"Quite a lot actually," replied James. "Most of our friends brought their children."

"Do you have any children?" asked Bruce.

"No. The Lord hasn't seen fit to bless our marriage with children." said James.

"I'm not surprised," commented Mary.

"Shut up," snapped Debbie through gritted teeth.

"Mum, there really is no need for you to air our problems in front of other people," expostulated James, "particularly in front of the police officers here. Please, Mum, no more comments, please!"

Ellis observed that James looked upset.

"OK, then, what about Alfie?" he asked.

"We've got a whole lot of photos we took at the party," said Debbie. "We gave copies to our friends and we've got quite a lot left over. You people can have some. I'll go and get them."

"Thank you, Mrs Truman. They may prove useful," replied Hunter.

Debbie left the room.

Ellis heaved a sigh.

"OK, James. Alfie," he said.

"Yes, well, the kids were giving him a hard time," replied James. "I think he wanted a feel of Bryn's muscles too but the kids wouldn't let him near Bryn. They all kept calling him nasty names like 'Retard' and 'Dumbo' and 'Thicko', names like that. Poor Alfie. He was just about in tears, poor fellow. Some of..."

"I think children are so undisciplined these days," interrupted Mary. "People just seem to let their children run riot."

"Look, Mum, please just refrain from making remarks like that," declared James. "Your remarks are just making a difficult situation worse."

Mary glowered at her son.

Ellis sighed again.

"OK, James, what about Alfie and the children?" he asked.

"Yes, of course, poor old Alfie," said James. "Some of the younger children were getting pretty fractious because it was way past their bedtime. The kids were getting quite nasty to Alfie. Then Alfie really wanted to go home. He was quite miserable, poor fellow. He was too afraid to walk to his car on his own in the dark so I got Bryn to walk him to his car. He was so happy to have Bryn go with him. Alfie wanted to go home straight away so poor Bryn didn't even have time to put his shirt back on. The kids were really upset that Bryn was leaving so he pacified them by promising to read them all a bedtime story when he got back."

"So he was intending to come back?" asked Bruce.

"Oh definitely. Very much so. The children were so upset when Bryn didn't come back and read them a story. They really were unhappy. And then Bryn left his shirt and car keys behind as well. I assure you. He was definitely intending to come back."

"OK, then. One thing I don't understand. Alfred Nugent had suffered brain damage. How was it that he was allowed to drive a car?"

"Good question, Sergeant," remarked Hunter approvingly. "Yes, Doctor?"

"He was judged still fit to drive," asserted James. "I made the initial assessment and I referred him off to some specialists for second opinions. They all supported my opinion. I can show you their reports if you like. They're at my surgery."

"Yes, Doctor, thank you," said Hunter. "We will want to take a look at them at some stage."

He looked at Ellis and the shirt he was holding.

"Mr De la Mare, does that shirt you're holding belong to Doctor Powys? Can you confirm that it is his?"

"Boss, Ellis, er, Mr De la Mare has already confirmed it is," interjected Bruce.

"And I'll confirm it again," declared Ellis. "This shirt belongs to Bryn Powys without a shadow of doubt. It's even got his smell on it, a smell I know intimately."

Mary Truman made a noise.

"Don't say it, Mum," warned James, "whatever it was you were going to say."

She glared at her son.

"Good! Thank you, Mr De la Mare, for that confirmation," replied Hunter briskly. "Is it correct that Doctor Powys left here and escorted the deceased, Mr Alfred Nugent, to Nugent's car and he was not wearing any sort of shirt when he left these premises?"

"Yes," declared Ellis.

"Yes, Boss," replied Bruce.

"Yes, that is correct, Inspector," said James wearily.

Debbie walked back into the bedroom clutching a sheaf of photographs printed on 20 cm by 25 cm (8 inch by 10 inch) paper. She handed them around to Ellis and the detectives.

"Jesus! Doctor Powys is a big guy!" exclaimed Bruce. "Look at the muscles on him!"

"Detective Sergeant! I'll thank you not to take the name of Our Lord in vain!" scolded Mary.

"Mrs Truman has a point, Sergeant," reproved Hunter. "Please watch your language."

Bruce reddened.

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Ma'am," he muttered.

Ellis went over to James with a copy in his hand.

"It's a good shot of Bryn," he commented. "I see he was already shirtless when the photo was taken."

"Why yes, thank you," replied James. "He had already taken his shirt off when I took the photo."

"Was he like that when he took Alfie back to his car, just wearing his shorts and runners?"

"Yes, he was."

"Golly, the kids seem to like him. They're all clustered around him like bees around a honeypot."

"Yes, they really went for him."

"Is Alfie in there?"

"Yes." James pointed him out.

"He looks a sad little fellow," Ellis commented.

"Yes. The kids were already giving him a hard time when I took the photo. He left soon afterwards."

Bruce came over with his copy of the photograph.

"Which one is Alfie?" he asked.

James pointed out Alfie to Bruce.

"Thanks, Doctor," said Bruce. "I agree with Ellis. He does look sad. What time did he leave here?"

"It was about a quarter past ten when I let him and Bryn out the front door," said James. "Alfie was so happy to have Bryn to himself for a change. He said Bryn was his mighty protector. Ironic, isn't it, in the light of what happened to him? And Bryn too?"

"What was Alfie doing at Double Bay?" asked Ellis.

"What? How do you know he was there?" queried James.

"His car was found there," replied Ellis.

"And we found only his fingerprints inside the car," said Bruce. "So we can safely infer that he drove himself there. I might add that we found no trace of Doctor Bryn Powys's fingerprints inside the car at all but we did find his handprint on the roof of the car above the driver's door so it is a fair assumption that Doctor Powys farewelled him but did not accompany him and neither did anyone else."

"What in God's name was he doing there in Double Bay?" asked James, his voice rising. "That's where he got bashed before. In fact that's where he received his brain injury."

"Good question, Doctor," Bruce said. "The answer is we don't know."

"I can confirm that, Doctor," said Hunter. "One question, Sergeant. On what grounds do you infer that Doctor Powys did not accompany the deceased to Double Bay?"

"Well, Boss, we did not find any trace of Doctor Powys's fingerprints inside Nugent's Mini. We only found his handprint on the car roof above the driver's door. Doctor Powys left his car keys here with his shirt when he left with Nugent so he couldn't have taken his car."

"Sergeant, have you considered the possibility that Doctor Powys did accompany Nugent in his Mini but he took care not to touch anything inside the car so that he would leave no fingerprints?" Hunter asked.

"Er..."

"The answer is, no, you haven't," returned Hunter briskly.

Bruce reddened.

Hunter turned to James.

"Is it possible, Doctor, that Doctor Powys could have come into the house, taken the keys and returned them later?"

"It's unlikely, extremely unlikely," replied James. "We kept the front door locked at all times, especially during the party. He would've had to ring the doorbell to be let in again and as you know, Inspector, no-one and that includes none of our guests saw him again after he left with Alfie. The front door is pretty solid. I doubt that even a man as big as Bryn could have broken it down. I tell you, we certainly would have known if someone had broken down the front door. And he could not have got in through the windows because they're got bars over them. We had them put in when some twerp broke in and stole Mum's jewellery when she was staying here some years ago. In any case we were all out the back partying. If he had come in through the side gate and gone around the back, everyone would have seen him. There's no way a man as big as Bryn could come around to the back and not be noticed. The kids definitely would have seen him, especially as he had promised the younger ones he would read them a bedtime story. They were all watching out for him. I can state quite positively that Bryn could not have possibly come back here without people seeing him."

"And also, Bryn would not have known where I put his shirt," said Debbie. "When he took it off, he threw it over a chair. I thought that was a bit risky. His car keys might fall out and he'd lose them. So I picked it up and I told him I'd put it in a safe place for him. I was going to get it for him when he left to go home."

Ellis fished the car keys out of the breast pocket of Bryn's shirt and held them up. The leather label with the name 'Bryn' tooled into both sides was clearly visible as was the brightly coloured metal disk with the Ferrari prancing horse hanging off the key ring.

"Anyone prepared to bet that these keys won't start my Ferrari parked in the street outside?" he asked.

"That won't be necessary," stated Hunter. "Anyway, let us confirm that the keys Mr De la Mare is holding will fit his car."

Everyone followed Ellis down the hallway and out into the street. Ellis opened the door of his Ferrari with Bryn's key in his hand. He got in and started the engine. He sat in the car with the engine idling.

"Well that proves that those keys Mrs Truman Senior found do fit Mr De la Mare's Ferrari," said Hunter. "Thank you, Mr De la Mare."

The next morning Ellis had breakfast with Sam and Bruce. Sam had cooked them breakfast.

"You know, Ellis, I reckon you've missed your calling. You should be a detective," commented Bruce. "You ask some pretty sharp questions."

"Even though I'm over fifty and gay," replied Ellis.

"The boss is over fifty."

"Don't tell me he's gay too," laughed Sam.

"No, of course he isn't," retorted Bruce. "He's divorced though. It's an occupational hazard of being a policeman. As far as I know there's no-one else in his life."

"That's an interesting thought, Ellis being a detective." Sam laughed. "Perhaps, Bruce, you could be the good cop and Ellis the bad cop."

Ellis gave a wry smile.

"That's not as silly as it sound, Sam," returned Bruce. "I've been with Hunter when he's really torn into some crims. He asks the really tough questions and often the crims go to water. He can be a real hard bastard in the interview room. Ellis, you and he would be pretty evenly matched. He respects your intelligence. You and he working together would be a bloody scary pair of bastards, the blond cop and the skinhead cop. You'd be like a pair of wolves."

"The bad cop and the badder cop," laughed Sam.

"Dunno who'd be worse," laughed Bruce.

Sam laughed too.

"Well, I'm not complaining about you, Ellis," she said.

"Er, thanks," replied Ellis.

"It's a pleasure, Mr De la Mare," Sam answered with a cheesy grin.

Ellis turned to Bruce and asked, "Do you guys still think Bryn might have killed Alfie?"

"Personally, I doubt it," replied Bruce. "I think it's unlikely that he did, 'specially as Nugent's Mini was found at Double Bay with only Nugent's fingerprints on the inside. We certainly didn't find any of Doctor Powys's fingerprints on the passenger side door handle and there were certainly none inside the car. Believe me, we looked. The trouble is, we still can't completely rule out the possibility that Doctor Powys killed Nugent."

"Hmm. What about Hunter?"

"He thinks that Doctor Powys may have killed Nugent."

"I think it's extremely unlikely," declared Ellis. "Bryn wasn't wearing a shirt when he took Alfie to his car. He didn't take any money or his car keys or his phone. His bank accounts haven't been touched since he disappeared. I've seen neither hide nor hair of him since. I love him totally and he knows that. He loves me to bits but he's just completely vanished into thin air. That's so not like him. Something's happened to him. Of that I'm positive. I really don't think he would've killed Alfie. He's got absolutely no reason to. The idea's utterly absurd."

"Yeah, you've said that a few times."

"And I'll keep on saying it," retorted Ellis.

Bruce looked away out the windows. They all sipped their coffee and looked out the windows at the view.

"I was just thinking about Mrs Truman, Doctor Truman's mother," mused Bruce after a while. "Gee, she's a real mother-in-law. She was saying some pretty awful things."

"Didn't bother me," replied Ellis. "She's like a lot of Catholics, full of holiness and harsh judgements. I'm used to it. My family are all like that except for my big brother."

"You know, she reminds me of those Jewish mother jokes, you know, the ones about the Jewish mother patting her pregnant belly saying 'my son the doctor'. Except Mrs Truman was patting her pregnant belly saying 'my son the priest', but she got a doctor instead."

"Blessed Mary, Mother of a priest," said Ellis with a smirk. "The trouble is, she hasn't got her ticket on the express train to Heaven anymore."

"My God, Ellis! You're brutal!" laughed Bruce.

Sam laughed too. "That's my Ellis," she said.

"So Ellis, you were brought up a Catholic," mused Bruce. "Sam, what about you? I'm just curious. Hope you don't mind."

"I was brought up in the Church of England back home in England," replied Sam. "Except over here in Australia it's called the Anglican Church."

"How about you, Bruce?" asked Ellis.

"My parents didn't go to church," answered Bruce. "I guess I was brought up an atheist."

"Or agnostic," put in Ellis.

"What's the difference?"

"Don't bother."

"Look it up in the dictionary, Bruce," smirked Sam.

"Yes, dear," laughed Bruce.

Sam rolled her eyes and smirked.

They sat drinking their coffee and looking out the window.

"Bloody nice coffee you make, Sam," commented Bruce over his coffee mug.

"Thanks," replied Sam. "At least I've got Ellis's vastly superior coffee machine up here in the kitchen, thank you, Ellis. The coffee it makes is so much better than instant coffee."

"You obviously know how to drive it, Sam, but don't thank me. Thank Mr Long Phat Wang, who used to live here," smiled Ellis.

Bruce laughed. "You're kidding me!" he said.

"Nup. It's true. Ask Sam."

"Yes, it's true," said Sam. "We all had a good laugh about it here about Mr Long Phat Wang, especially Ellis's hunky criminal friend Clint."

"Shuddup!" from Ellis.

Bruce laughed.

-------------------------------------- Continued in Part 92. --------------------------------------