Cam had taken a seat at the table. He applied the sauce to his sausage and took a big bite, still looking with interest at the gun. Jack’s stomach growled. He sat down and picked up his own food. He and Cam stared at the gun while they ate.
‘It’s a mistake,’ Jack said in the end. ‘Someone sent it to me by mistake.’
Cam nodded. ‘Maybe a gangster,’ he said seriously. ‘Or a hit man.’
What the hell was he supposed to do with the thing? He should call the police, that was the obvious answer. Hand it in. Handguns were illegal in Australia, weren’t they? You could have a shotgun, if you had good reason, but only if you had a licence. Jack was pretty sure that only criminals and cops had handguns, and he was neither. He finished his food and wiped sauce from the corner of his mouth.
The nearest police station... he took out his phone and looked it up. There was one just over a kilometre away. He could bike there in a few minutes. But that would mean either bringing Cam with him, or leaving him behind, neither of which was appealing. It was getting late. Coming up on peak hours, probably, for your average cop shop. What would he say to them anyway?Hey guys, got this weird parcel. No idea who sent it to me.And then what? They’d just say thanks, and send him on his way?
Well, what else?
They’d want to ask him a lot of questions, at the very least. It wouldn’t be a five-minute drop-off. He couldn’t leave Cam alone for an hour or more, and he wasn’t going to drag him along to sit in the waiting room of a cop shop either. But he wasn’t keeping this thing for a second longer than he had to. Just having it in the flat felt dangerous.
‘What would you think about going over to Elsa’s place for an hour or so?’ Jack said.
Cam’s face brightened. ‘I can playRaftwith Lola.’
‘Maybe. There’s school tomorrow. We’ll check with Elsa when we get there.’
Jack got a tea towel. He wrapped it around the gun, making a clumsy attempt to wipe it down as he did so, not even fully understanding why he was doing it. Except that his fingers still felt wrong where he’d touched the gun, and he had an urge to clean away the moment. He put the wrapped gun carefully into his backpack. He zipped the bag closed.
‘Finish up your food, okay? And put on your jacket.’ He put the backpack on his back, and waited impatiently for Cam. He wanted the gun out of their house.
‘Can I bring my Switch?’
‘If you’re really, really quick.’
Cam ran to his bedroom. It took him a minute to unplug the Switch and pack it up. Jack cleaned the table while he waited. He put the box and the packing peanuts on the kitchen counter, debated what to do with the letter. He should bring it, he decided. Let the police decide what to do with it. He’d leave the box though. That wouldn’t fit in his bag.
‘Ready!’ Cam said.
They turned to leave, and as they did so, there were three loud knocks on the door.
Chapter Thirteen
The knocking was loud enough to make Jack jump. He opened the door to a stranger; a man in navy slacks, a blue shirt and a jacket. The stranger’s grey hair was cut very short and his eyes were hard. There was a cop standing beside him, a woman in full uniform.
‘Jack Miller?’
‘Uh... yes?’
‘Detective Senior Sergeant Rocky Jansen. This is my colleague, Senior Constable Lucy Phillips.’
‘Right. Hi.’ Something about the way Jansen was looking at him made Jack’s stomach turn over and sink to the floor. Cam must have felt it too. He stood a little closer.
‘Who’s this?’ Jansen said.
‘This is my son, Cameron.’
Jansen nodded. He gave Cam a small smile, but then pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. ‘This is a warrant. It allows us to search your apartment.’
‘A warrant? I don’t understand.’
‘We have information that suggests that evidence from a crime might be hidden in your property. We have an obligation to follow up on that evidence. So... we’re here to search your flat. If there’s nothing here, then we’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.’
Jack felt sick. All he could think about was the gun. It was in his backpack. Which was on his back.
Jansen stepped forward. Jack automatically stepped out of the way. Jansen handed him the warrant and Jack tried to read it. The words blurred in front of his eyes. Two more uniformed police officers were coming down the side path. Oh Christ. Did the warrant mean they could search his bag too? Of course it did. It must.
