Mal watched the two men as they sat either side of the girl. She was young, pretty. He could tell by the light beads of sweat on her forehead and the unsteady grip on her glass that she was lost to substance abuse. He couldn't count the number of girls, just like her, who he'd come across in his twenty years in the business. Not many found their way out. Even those from wealthier families who had access to the best practitioners and institutions found it difficult to recover.

He disregarded the girl. She wasn't the reason he was sitting in the gloomy surrounds of Hadley's Bar.

Malcolm studied Patrick Murphy's companion. This was the second time since he'd taken up the contract on Murphy that he'd seen the two together. A second sighting definitely deserved investigation. The man was dressed in expensive clothing.

Mal feigned disinterest as the three stood up and headed for the door. He gulped down the last of his diet coke and followed.

*

The Mount Gravatt block of units looked very middle class. It didn't belong to Murphy so it had to be connected to the other man. Mal found this extraordinary considering the expensive car the man drove and the quality of his clothes.

Mal took down the address and added the memorised number plate of the BMW. If this man was a man of wealth with an interest in the perverted it was feasible, he owned the unit and used it secretly as a place to entertain his pastimes. Whatever they may be? Malcolm knew only too well how common this was amongst the wealthy.

He wondered if the man's interest was in the girl or in Patrick Murphy. It wouldn't surprise him if it was both but he doubted Murphy would reciprocate the attraction.

Murphy was definitely a predator of females.

Mal turned on his CD story. Life Expectancy by Dean Koontz. He loved the way the author wove bizarre and intriguing details into his narrative.

There weren't many of life's enjoyments left for Malcolm Armstrong since his wife had left him for another man, and taken his children with her to Western Australia. So listening to a good audio story and drinking a glass of ice cold Coke were two of the few. Even those pleasures were in danger of being taken from him.

He sighed as he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and took a mouthful. He wasn't a big fan of water but the doc had told him to ease up on the coke if he didn't want to be a statistic of diabetes.

Malcolm slid the driver's seat rearward to give him more leg room, and then reclined the back rest a fraction. He settled comfortably in the seat and kept his eyes on the door of number eight.

*

When the girl emerged, she looked dishevelled and anxious. She unzipped her bag and stuffed something quickly inside. Then she pushed her tousled blonde hair from her face and made her way hurriedly, if a little unsteadily, down the road. Within half an hour the door opened again and Sergeant Patrick Murphy stepped outside.

Malcolm turned off the CD. This caused him a degree of annoyance because the main character had just been handcuffed to a library chair with a beautiful woman.

The second man was now dressed in shorts and a T-Shirt. They were both laughing. Murphy turned to the second man and shook his hand.

Zooming in with his camera, Mal snapped a shot. He thought perhaps he should have taken a picture of the girl but decided she wasn't part of his contract. Murphy was the target but this other man interested him.

Normally Mal took no notice of secondaries unless his instincts dictated otherwise, and at the moment, his instincts were knocking sharply against his skull. 

Photo - Dreamtime.com