The Mardi Gras Murders

by Mark Peters

Chapter 38

By the time six o'clock came around, just an hour away from when the parade was due to commence, Whitlam Square was like I had never seen it before. There were crowds everywhere, all intent on trying to find a good vantage point, while floats had also started lining up in College Street closer to the starting point, to be ready to roll once the official activities had been completed.

Off to one side a stage had been erected, with portable seating alongside and directly opposite, while dancers were also starting to entertain the gathering crowd and music was blasting through a public address system. This was a carnival like no other that I had ever seen, and while I could feel the excitement pumping through my body, it was also tempered by everything else that I knew would possibly be coming my way tonight.

Helen and I chose a high spot near a hotel on one corner, from where we could cast an eye over everything from the crowds to the stage and the tiered seating. I spent quite a bit of time scanning the crowd for familiar faces, managing to spot some of our work colleagues a few times, as well as Adam and the two boys, but search as I might, there was no sign of our quarry, so I turned my attention back to Adam and the boys.

Unfortunately, they were too far away for me to be able to talk to them, so I decided to phone Adam and check in with him.

'Hey, babe,' he said, while giving me a wave from where they were on the other side of the square. 'Man, this place is really humming!'

'You're not wrong there. Have the boys worn you out yet? And what about Brad's eyes, have they actually popped out of his skull?'

'Almost,' he replied with a laugh. 'They've got the energy reserves of a marathon runner! And the curiosity of a cat! You should hear some of the questions they are throwing at me!'

'About?'

'You, amongst other things,' he chuckled.

'Oh, man. Sorry about that.'

'It's all good. Nothing I can't handle. The hardest part is just trying to keep them on a short leash. So, have you got everything in place for your big bust?'

'About as much as we can have, I think. It's impossible to tell where the bastard might pop up, if he does at all, but if he shows his face we should have the place well enough covered.'

'So, how about the parade? Have you managed to find out who the mystery guest is for this year?' he asked, referring to an advertising campaign that had popped up around the city in the past few weeks announcing that there would be a special guest artist, just as they had for most years, but with only a silhouette of the reported international star adorning the posters. To be honest, I hadn't taken that much notice of it, apart from noting that the artist was female and had lots of hair.

'I wouldn't have a clue,' I replied. 'But when you see her you can tell me, because you'll more than likely be closer to her than I will.'

'I'll see if I can get you an autograph,' he teased.

'You do that!' I laughed. 'Now, where are you going to watch the parade from? I'll try and keep an eye out for you.'

'Up near the top of that hill on Oxford Street, I had hoped,' he replied.

'Yeah, you should get a good view of everything from there.'

'Alright . . . we're about to set off along Oxford to find ourselves a good spot. You better go and do your police work, and I'll just stick to my babysitting . . .'

'Before you do, you had better put Nick on, please. I'll give him a reminder about behaving himself.'

'Sure thing.'

A few moments later the excited voice of Nick came on the phone.

'Hey, Coop. You should be down here with us. This place is just so much fun! I've never seen so much skin!' he enthused.

'Oh, God! We've created a monster!' I groaned, while wondering just what his mother might think when we hand him back later tonight behaving like a total pervert.

'Nah, it's not your fault . . . you and Adam just brought me out of my shell,' he taunted.

'Same thing, smartarse,' I countered. 'You just make sure you behave yourself, and whatever you do, make sure you don't get separated from Adam and your brother. Do you got that, punk?'

'Yes, Coop. I promise.'

'Good. Now, go and have a good time, and try not to get yourselves in trouble, or get arrested, or anything like that. Remember, I'll be watching!'

'Fuck!' he moaned, before then laughing, then saying, 'See you soon,' then hanging up.

I was still chuckling to myself as I put my phone back in my pocket.

'Everything okay?' Helen asked.

'Yeah, or at least I think so,' I replied. 'The boys are going gaga over all the half-naked people around the place.'

'Sounds like the performers must be arriving,' she replied. 'But then again, some of these spectators could do with a visit to the op shop as well, don't you think?'

Looking around us, it wasn't hard to see what she meant. With it having been a particularly warm afternoon there were people everywhere who were dressed down for the occasion, and for the most part, even I had to admit that I was liking what I was seeing.

'Alright, alright, you can put your tongue back in now! Jesus, I don't know what that woman was thinking letting her boys go off with the two of you!'

'Probably just something about the quiet night she was going to have at home, alone, without the two of them pestering her.'

'Ahhh . . . yeah, you could have a point there.'

Up on the main stage we noticed some activity, which indicated the preliminaries were about to get underway, then moments later the MC started his spiel, warming up the crowd that had gathered.

'Okay, it looks like it's almost show time!' said Helen, and just as she said that we both heard our radios crackle and Inspector Richardson asking us all to check in.

This was it.

The Mardi Gras Parade kicked off right on time in the early evening, with the start signalled by the plunging of a lever, jointly held by the Lord Mayor of Sydney and the international guest, who proved to be an aging American disco queen, who still looked fabulous and could still carry a note better than half the younger performers of today. Spectators squealed and cheered with delight as the plunging of the lever set off two explosions just back away from the stage, but on opposite sides of the street, sending a fountain of glitter and tinsel arching out over the street, through which the first vehicle in the parade, which carried a smaller version of the Opera House, passed through.

The crowds screamed once more as the disco diva seemed to walk through the air – in reality there was a long narrow walkway jutting out from the stage – and deftly step onto the deck of the leading vehicle, just in front of the Opera House sails, and just as the introduction to her biggest hit began blaring out over the speakers.

Even I had to admit that it was well done and looked fantastic.

Then as the first float moved forward, carrying our diva away from us, a troupe of dancers, all dressed in dazzling white outfits stepped into the void, kicking up a storm.

It was then time for the second float, this one built just like the Sydney Harbour Bridge, complete with its own dancers strutting along the decking between the two towers, to come through the fountain of shiny stuff and continue on its way.

The music blared. The crowds went wild. Mardi Gras was underway, and it was showtime for us as well.

The plan we had decided upon hinged around the positioning of the police float, which was about in the centre of the long line of floats, which numbered in excess of sixty in all. It would therefore be a little while yet before Helen and I would need to hit the pavement. Watching the first floats to go, each of which so far had a group of dancers or a community group marching between it and the next one, it looked like there were about three floats to each city block. This gave us a bit of an idea as to when we needed to send out each of our teams.

For an hour or more we were entertained by the antics of the dancers and the marching people, from all manner of cultural and sporting groups, who just seemed to keep showing up, ready for their time in the spotlight. The whole time we continued to scan the crowds who would gather around, hoping we could catch a glimpse of Corcoran, but it was to no avail. We could hear the inspector in our ears barking commands, getting us to check one group of people or another as he caught glimpses of someone who might fit the description, but each time we drew a blank.

I still had it in my mind that Corcoran would surface somewhere down the road, somewhere where he could draw me out and through a crowd, then down some street or lane, just so that my colleagues would have difficulty following.

That was how it was in the dream I'd had last night. I hadn't dared to tell anyone about that though.

When the time came for our first team to step out onto the road, Tom and Scott, the party was still in full swing. They were given the privilege of accompanying a group of performers from the drag show that Adam and I had attended just a few nights ago. Thankfully I was able to stay in the background and wasn't recognised by my friendly drag queen.

Three floats later Craig and Garry followed suite, scoring the job of chaperoning a float loaded with gay cowboys, while their half-naked friends danced along the street in front of them, chaps and all!

'This'll be fun,' I heard Craig say through gritted teeth as he stepped into the fray.

Looking back down the long row of floats that was still to come, I spotted the police float, looking imposing with the giant stiletto standing tall, while a whole lot of boys in blue were limbering up around it.

It suddenly struck me that a stiletto was an odd thing to use to represent the police force, but it was a part of Jimmy's plan, and everyone had been adamant that we would follow through with his original concept, as some small way of honouring his contribution.

In front of the police float was a marching band, and as the whole procession crept forward, I soon found that it was the police force band, all decked out in their finest uniforms, with instruments sparkling.

'Are you two ready?' we heard the inspector ask in our ears.

'Yes, sir,' we both answered.

'Good luck. And to everyone else, be on your toes and be ready if called.'

When the float finally made it into the starting position for the parade, just after the police band had been sent on their way, I could see Tristan at the wheel, with Ben dressed in blue as one of the dancers. Ben quickly ran over and gave me a high five, before running back into position, laughing. He pointed at Tristan, who leant forward and did something inside the cabin, after which the air was shattered by the sound of a police siren going off, while flashing blue lights lit up the front of the float.

I laughed at them and shook my head. So that was their secret plan.

The parade officials began a countdown. Helen hurried over onto the far side of the road to take up her position, which was when I also noticed Elvira amongst the dancing troupe, and then, once a siren had sounded, we were off.

Walking just inside the barricades, within touching distance of the cheering crowds, I had the perfect position for scanning the faces of those who lined the streets.

People of all ages and walks of life had joined the fray. Single people, couples – of all orientations – and families, were all enjoying the spectacle that was the Mardi Gras parade. This was my first time at seeing it all so up close and personal, and I wasn't disappointed. The excitement was contagious and even though I knew I had a job to do, I couldn't resist the occasional high five when offered by a member of the crowd, at least up until I heard the steadying voice of Helen saying, 'Just settle down there, Cooper! There's a long way to go yet, so just keep your eye on the ball.'

'Whatever you say,' I replied.

'Are you two having fun back there?' asked Craig Andarakis.

'Most fun I've had in years,' I answered.

'Well, at least with your clothes on,' Craig added.

'Let's not go there!' said Helen.

'Alright, you lot. Knock off the fun and games,' countered the inspector.

Suddenly all radio chatter ceased, as if we were naughty school children having just been scolded by teacher.

From the starting point of the parade up to where Adam and the boys said they had hoped to be watching the parade from, there was a gentle, though not inconsiderable, rise, over a distance of about half a mile.

As we trudged along beside our dancing compatriots, I couldn't help but admire what it was they were doing. It was hard enough walking and trying to keep an eye on the crowds at the same time, but these guys and girls were also adding choreographed dance moves into the mix, complete with high kicks and – in some cases – pom-pom waving or baton twirling. What they were doing was nothing short of amazing, as far as I was concerned.

It was also somewhere around here that I thought Corcoran might try and make his move, as there were streets and laneways on both sides of Oxford Street where I thought he might be able to both approach the parade and also get away if the need arose.

I prayed that Adam and the boys wouldn't meet with him, but as the hill drew nearer, I was becoming increasingly on edge. I started looking around anxiously, looking for faces in the crowds that weren't there.

So far, my concerns had been for nought, as I mentally ticked off the streets we were passing. I had memorised them all . . . Brisbane Street, Pelican Street, Oxford Square, Riley Street . . . and as we passed each one, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Then came Crown Street.

All clear, as the crowds continued to clap and cheer.

And then it was Palmer Street, which went off to our left.

And that's where things weren't right.

That's where I stopped. The faces I sought were there. But just not all of them.

'Where's Nick,' I anxiously asked Adam, suddenly concerned that he wasn't with them, after having jumped the barricade and gone to where I had seen Adam and Brad standing on the street corner, just back from the parade, while Helen was in my ear asking, 'Cooper, what the fuck are you doing?'

For the moment I ignored her.

'He's just gone to use the Portaloo,' Adam answered, while turning and pointing to the row of ugly plastic toilet buildings that had been positioned in a loading zone not far from the corner.

Looking that way, all I saw were people waiting in line, but then I noticed some movement further down the street, where I could see two people walking quite fast. My heart skipped a beat.

It was a man and a boy, and the man had an arm around the boy's shoulder, while the boy was looking back, and looking worried, as if he was in some kind of danger and hoping someone would come to his rescue.

'Fuck! I thought I told you guys not to get separated?' I spat at Adam and Brad, then without even waiting for a response I started sprinting down the street towards those two people.

The boy was Nick. The man was Danny Corcoran.

'I have our suspect in sight,' I yelled into my radio. 'He's gone down Palmer Street and has now turned into Kells Lane.'

'We're on our way,' Helen promised.

The last thing I had seen before they had disappeared was the sight of Corcoran smiling, knowing that it was me who was closest to him.

'Helen . . .'

'What?'

'He . . . he has a hostage,' I breathlessly said, as I continued running towards the lane into which Corcoran and Nick had disappeared.

'Anyone we know?' Helen urged.

'It's Nick. I need backup, Helen, and I need it right fucking now!' I yelled into the radio.

'Fuck! How the hell did that happen? I'm on my way,' Helen almost yelled into the radio.

Then the radio crackled again. 'I'm not far behind you, Cooper.'

It was the gruff voice of Joe Benevetti, and in what seemed to be only a few seconds I heard the sound of someone running down the street behind me, although still too far off to be of any immediate assistance.

As I continued to run, people ahead of me scattered, no doubt fearing the madman running through the street with a gun in his hand.

'We're not far off you either,' I heard someone else say, but I wasn't sure just who.

I soon reached the entrance to the laneway and was quick to point my pistol in Corcoran's direction, but I was suddenly stopped in my tracks as I took in the scene in front of me.

'Put the gun down, Cooper, or I'll cut the little fucker's head off!' Corcoran bellowed.

Behind Corcoran the laneway was blocked. It wasn't usually a dead-end, but today, with Mardi Gras in full swing, there was a large truck, belonging to a media company of some sort, blocking the end of it. It appeared that Corcoran's plans had gone awry. There was no way out for him, and he knew it. But with one arm wrapped firmly around Nick, while the other held the sharp blade of his knife threateningly against the boy's tender throat, he knew that he also held all the aces.

Nick was petrified, it wasn't difficult to tell that much. There were tears running down his cheeks and he was sobbing uncontrollably.

Corcoran, on the other hand, seemed to be right in his element. He was laughing, while at the same time holding his cheek against the boy's, even at one stage licking the side of Nick's face in a disturbing act which reeked of depravity and showed the level of his insanity.

'Hmmm . . . he's a sexy little fucker. You had him yet?' Corcoran taunted.

'You sick fuck!' I spat back at him.

For a few moments nobody moved. My gun was still focused squarely on Corcoran, but my eyes were looking at that blade against Nick's pale skin, then from right to left as I tried to take in everything about the lane we were in.

'Put it down!' Corcoran screamed once more, only this time he seemed to give Nick a shake as he did so. I immediately noticed that he had nicked the skin, as a trickle of blood began oozing its way down the boys' neck.

Someone behind me screamed.

'Last chance, Cooper!' Corcoran said, only this time his voice was controlled.

What options did I have? There was still no help at hand. My only chance was to do as he said, then try to keep him talking until someone else could arrive.

Making my decision was easy.

Slowly I spread my arms apart. Holding the pistol out to my side, before gradually leaning down and placing it on the ground. I then kicked it away with my shoe.

I was sure the others, who were running down the street, would be able to see me do that, and chances were I would end up in trouble because of what I had just done, but the life of someone I cared about was at stake and I didn't care about anything but getting that boy away from Corcoran.

'Nice to see you've finally learned some common sense,' Corcoran said with a sneer.

'Hopefully a bit of it might rub off on you,' I calmly replied.

'It's a bit late for that, don't you think?'

I simply shrugged.

'It was all because of you, don't you know?' he calmly said.

'Why? What did I do?' I pleaded.

'You weren't like the rest of them . . . you were so . . . so beautiful, and yet so untouchable . . . and you made sure I knew it. Of course, there were others at that school who loved the attention, who enjoyed it when I would come on to them, would touch them . . . but you and Martin . . . you two were different . . . you thought you were so much better than me. The two of you, always flaunting yourselves in front of me with the way you carried on together, tempting me . . . yet that one time I did reach out for you, you pushed me away,' he said, in a voice that now trembled with both emotion and venom.

There were others who had succumbed to his advances? Fuck! How many?

'I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you on the streets here a couple of weeks back . . . I only came back to Sydney for Mardi Gras, to visit some friends and have a bit of fun, and for the parade, of course, but after seeing you . . . that's when something went off in my head and I knew it was finally time for me to make you pay . . .'

By this time Benevetti had arrived, panting and puffing, but I could he see was focused, and taking everything in. His gun was now trained on Corcoran. Joe looked from Corcoran to me, and back again. He knew what the game was and from the cold steel I could see in his eyes I knew he would back me to the hilt. My fears about him hadn't been warranted.

Then I looked back at Nick, who I could see was scared shitless. His face was drained of all colour. The collar of his t-shirt was stained red from his own blood.

I took a step forward, and to one side, moving away from Joe, just as another set of boots came running up to us. I didn't dare look to see who it was.

Suddenly Corcoran was on edge, waving the knife menacingly towards us, from Joe, to me, and back again, waving it wildly in front of Nick. Every time it passed in front of Nick's face, I could see him close his eyes, as if he was trying to shut out the image.

'How, Danny? How did you want to make me pay?' I asked him, as I took another few steps in the same direction. I knew full well what the answer would be, but I still wanted to hear the admission come from the man himself, especially with Benevetti and whoever else was around, standing close enough to hear it.

'You're the detective now. Haven't you worked it out yet?' Corcoran challenged.

'I'm still new at this. Why don't you tell me?'

'I'm surprised at you, Rick. You were always a good student, so I thought you would be smarter than that.'

I shrugged, but said nothing.

'I just couldn't let someone else have you, you know,' Corcoran said, almost wistfully. 'If it wasn't going to be me . . . then it wasn't going to be anyone. Can't you see that now?'

'And what about the others? What about Cory and Robbie?' I asked. 'Did you get pushed away by them too? Did they have to be punished as well? And what did Alexis and Jimmy Tan ever do to you . . . other than talk to me?'

'They couldn't be trusted,' Corcoran sneered. 'You're all the same . . . none of you boy-whores could be trusted . . . even one so beautiful as you . . .'

'So, what? Everyone has to die? Even me?'

'Yeah. That's just how it has to be,' he replied, as he looked down at Nick, whose body I could see was trembling, almost violently, even if his sobbing had quieted.

What was going through Corcoran's head right now, I wondered, but no sooner had that thought come to my mind when Corcoran raised his hand, as if he were going to bring it down and stab Nick. For a few moments he seemed to hold the knife up, glancing at it for a moment, like he was contemplating what he was about to do, but then I saw him waver, and his hand started to fall.

Instinctively I ran forward and dived for the two of them, not caring about anything but preventing that knife from reaching its intended target. Corcoran must have sensed my movement and glanced my way, looking startled at first, then in that instant I saw this huge smile come over his face, as in one motion he forcefully flung Nick to the ground and then spun towards me, with the knife now pointing perilously in my direction.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, yet try as I might there was nothing I could do. I was in mid-air and even though I tried, there was no way I could stop, or even change direction enough to avoid contact with that deadly, shining blade. I could only watch on in horror, looking down as I fell forward and witnessing the murderous blade sink into my own abdomen, feeling not the sharp pain of the knife as I had expected, but rather the dull thud of the heavy impact between our bodies.

It didn't matter though. If I saved Nick, that's all I could hope for.

So much happened in those few moments before I found myself sprawled across the pavement.

The sounds of the distant parade were quickly drowned out, at first by screams, and then by the sound of gunfire. I heard three distinct shots ring out . . . then I heard Nick scream, 'Noooooooo . . .'

Then everything went black.

Pain shot through my body as I attempted to roll my head from side to side, to try and see what was happening, but there was little I could see, at least not at first.

Gradually, however, as I lay in the dingy laneway, I tried to start piecing together the scene, but there were still so many gaps in my mind.

Looking up at the tall buildings on either side of us, all I could see at first was the fiery, orange sky of a summer day drawing to a close, where just a few wispy clouds drifted by. What a beautiful, surreal day it was for a parade, had been my first thought.

Somewhere off in the distance I could hear noise. It was a rumbling kind of sound, yet I couldn't quite recognise it.

It wasn't until I was able to roll my head slightly to one side and was able to let my eyes settle on the lifeless form of Danny Corcoran, lying just a few metres away, that the reality of it all finally started to sink in. The front of his white shirt was covered with blood and his lifeless, open eyes were staring my way, just below a bullet hole that had been placed in the middle of his forehead.

The man was dead.

He was finally dead.

Relief washed over me. I knew that I should have been happy about that, but they were only a few of the million thoughts and emotions that were now coursing through my mind.

Suddenly I thought of Nick. What had happened to him? Was he okay?

It was then that I became aware of a crowd starting to gather, and someone saying, 'Keep them back,' although why anyone would want to get closer, I couldn't imagine. The horrified expressions on their faces told me all I needed to know; they were afraid to become involved . . . not that I could really blame them.

I knew that I recognised the voice of the man trying to keep them away from me, but I couldn't put a name to that voice, nor a face.

I knew that I had heard the sound of someone scream.

I knew that I had heard someone frantically shouting, 'Officer down! Officer down!'

Who was it they were talking about? Was it me?

Now I could hear the sound of people sobbing.

From somewhere behind me came the sound of boots running towards me, while off in the distance somewhere there was a sound I finally recognised as being that of a passing parade. People were clapping and cheering and laughing, and the bands were playing, all oblivious to the death and drama that was oh, so close to them.

There were sirens as well, growing louder with each passing moment.

Yes, it was definitely surreal.

Someone came to me. I felt them touch my shoulder, but I had difficulty trying to move my head again to see who it was.

'Hang on, Cooper. Just hang in there, kid,' I heard the man say. Whoever it was then reached under my head and lifted it up a little, while at the same time turning my head slightly towards him. When I managed to roll my eyes in their direction and focus, I saw that it was Joe Benevetti, kneeling beside me, his ashen face etched with concern.

Why had his voice sounded so different?

Joe. The hard-nosed cop who I had thought hated me. Maybe he was a bit softer on the inside than I had imagined?

Kneeling beside him was Adam, my lovely Adam. His face was damp from tears, but I could see he was trying to be brave, while Nick and Brad were standing just behind them, their arms around each other and both quietly sobbing.

'We're all here, mate,' Adam said, as he brushed his hand over my forehead and through my hair.

'There's an ambulance on the way, Cooper. And so are Wheeler, and the others,' Joe solemnly said.

I tried to speak, but my cottonmouth felt like it had been glued together from the inside.

Everything seemed to be spinning around, and the pain in my guts was unbearable . . . as if a red-hot poker had been shoved right through me and out the other side. With some difficulty I managed to look down at my stomach, where I soon found the cause of my problem . . . the wooden handle of a knife was sticking out of me.

Was that the same knife that had killed Martin and the others, I wondered?

For a few moments I concentrated on that thought.

No, not the one that killed Martin, I eventually realised. That one he had dropped when he had been disturbed while attacking Cory.

It's funny the things that go through your head sometimes.

Looking back at Adam I could see the fear in his eyes. What did that mean, I wondered?

'I love you,' he whispered, as the colours of the day began to fade, and the darkness started creeping in.

I wanted to tell him that I loved him too . . . but nothing happened. My mouth just wouldn't work.

Suddenly the sound of yet more people running towards us could be heard and the next thing I knew, Wheeler was there, on her knees beside me, opposite Adam and Joe, and holding one of my hands while leaning over me.

'Don't you dare die on me, Cooper. I haven't lost a partner yet, and I'm damn sure I don't want you to be the first!' she commanded.

I tried to smile, but I don't think I managed even half a one, before I simply closed my eyes.

I could hear Adam and Wheeler and Benevetti all urging me to wake up, to hang in there, to be strong, but all I wanted to do was rest, as my life seemed to flash before me. Funny, I had always thought it was bullshit when I heard people say that about their near-death experiences, but now I knew they were telling the truth.

What would be next? A white light from which Martin and my mother would emerge, embracing me and welcoming me to the other side?

I knew I would see them again someday . . . but was this the day it was going to happen?

I hoped not. There was still so much I had to do.

As the minutes passed and my head continued to swirl, there was none of that, however. There were no white lights or long-lost friends or relatives reaching out for me. Nor were there any robed figures with long flowing beards standing by pearly gates with welcoming arms, or demons reaching out between gaping holes in the earth to hungrily grasp at my soul, while flames lapped at the edges.

There was nothing but darkness.

Then even the sounds began to fade away to an eerie silence.

The darkness seemed to be welcoming me now, and for what seemed like the first time in years, as I felt it embrace me and rock me in a gentle dance, I finally felt at peace.

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