Читать книгу Mordialloc - James Maclean - Страница 18

‘Oh no, by the grace of god, what has he done now?’ Helen McGuinness could be heard asking from the front door.

Constable Jerry Harrison was back. His older partner was there too. The old sergeant was trying to look all tough and serious but he couldn’t contain himself. He was grinning. Not exactly a smirk, he was smiling with the arrogance of a man who wasn’t afraid to “cut the cheese” in an elevator full of beautiful women.

Still comfortably hungover, and unable to get back to sleep, Floyd decided to make his way to the front door. His mother was still yelling his name when he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

‘It’s okay mum, just settle down before you do a head gasket,’ he said, giving her shoulder a light massage as he said it. ‘And if you two clowns are looking for the circus, I believe it left town last week!’

The two police officers laughed lightly to themselves. Floyd didn’t know what the hell they were doing there. One of the neighbours had probably complained about the ‘dog turd’ on the doormat. Jeez, it’d been funny at the time! He was just trying to remember if they’d actually set the turd alight when Constable Harrison spoke up. His partner looked on sternly.

‘Are you Mr Floyd McGuinness of Gipps Street, Mordialloc?’

‘Well you wouldn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to work that out. Shit, we’ve lived here for the last four years. We played football at the same damn football club too. You’d do well to make this one a detective,’ said McGuinness. The Sergeant smiled politely. He was clearly enjoying the exchange.

‘Floyd McGuinness, you are under arrest for the physical assault and rape of a Mr Timothy Hill. I hereby caution you that anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one at this time, one will be appointed for you by a court … ’

‘What the hell bullshit is all this about?’ cursed Floyd angrily. ‘I don’t even know any Timothy Hill. I assume he is a bloke and I can assure you his cherry’s of no interest to me, whatsoever.’

‘Please turn around, Mr McGuinness!’ demanded the older copper, stepping forward. ‘Save it for the station!’

For a man with a rather pudgy appearance he had a grip on him like a vice. In one fluid movement the cuffs were clasped tightly around Floyd’s wrists. No pleasantries were exchanged but Floyd could feel the seepage on his hands. One of his blisters had burst under the pressure of the coarse move.

‘Mum, don’t worry. There must be some sort of mistake,’ Floyd whimpered in the direction of his clearly distraught mother.

They were the last words to come out of his mouth. Floyd was frog marched down the driveway and shoved roughly into the rear of the waiting divisional van.