to the platter, then stood in front of the stereo cabinet examining my CD collection.
‘You got the new INXS album,’ she said, selecting it from the rack. ‘Good one.’
‘Not exactly new,’ I corrected. ‘It’s a tribute album. Lots of duets and reworking of the originals. Put it on if you like.’
‘Sure will, but I’m just not sure I like the idea of someone trying to copy the almighty Michael Hutchence.’
I nodded. There wasn’t a true INXS fan who wasn’t insanely protective of the band’s classic anthems. Michael Hutchence had a voice and a presence that could never be replaced.
‘It’s respectful,’ I said. ‘And they don’t try to copy him. Trust me, I wouldn’t even have it in my collection if they did.’
The track she selected was about as good as it got. ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ was probably the best recognised and most moving song released by INXS. Some people said it was simply a story of love at first sight and the passion that followed, but I disagreed. For me there was a real sadness in there, a knowing that the love wouldn’t last. Sure, there was nothing in the lyrics specifically saying that; it was more in the way it was delivered. The version Ella selected featured a duet between Tom Jones and Natalie Imbruglia who, perhaps deliberately, sang with more optimism than the original. It was a beautiful recreation, but they could never touch Michael Hutchence’s haunting vocals.
I tied on an old apron and Ella smirked at me from across the lounge.
‘What?’
‘Isn’t that the one I bought you?’ she asked. ‘Like, five years ago?’
‘Indeed it is,’ I said, looking down at how faded and torn it was.
‘Looks like you need a new one.’
‘I tried to give it to the Salvo’s but they wouldn’t take it. Apparently they have enough troubles of their own. You know you’re in strife when even the charities don’t want your belongings.’
I went back to the fridge, took out the ingredients for the salad and began chopping it all into piles.
‘You know something,’ Ella said, ‘you’d be quite a catch if you weren’t so focused on work.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She rolled onto her stomach, facing me on the sofa. ‘Well, you’re intelligent, funny, and you like to cook. That’s rare for a man.’
‘Too focused on work?’
‘Don’t take it the wrong way. I just mean you shouldn’t be so worried about being an ace detective any more. You’ve done your time for the police. Maybe you should think about yourself and do something else.’
‘I need to work, El. I have bills and a mortgage.’
‘I don’t mean quit the police; I just mean do something easier. You know, plenty of cops go back to work but don’t go back on the street.’
I put the knife down and considered her comments. It seemed everyone these days was telling me the same thing. Move on, McCauley, time to step aside and let another soldier take your place. Even Cassie had been hinting at it and, even though I would never admit it to anyone, I knew it wasn’t such a bad idea. I could spend more time with Ella, and visit Mum and Dad more often. That would keep Anthony happy. And I might even get to go to the cricket again with Edgar. I filled a salad bowl with the beans and chilli, and tossed them with the tuna as I thought about how a new life could take shape.
The CD player was on shuffle mode and the band’s new front man, J.D. Fortune, was working his way through a rendition of ‘Suicide Blonde’ when Ella suddenly screamed and dropped her beer bottle on the floor.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she shrieked. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘What?’ I said, watching Prince dart away from the sofa.
She pointed at the television. ‘That!’
Looking over, I realised I’d left the camera plugged into the AV port. Dallas Boyd’s ghost-white body filled the screen, the needle hanging from his arm. I’d turned the television off but not the camera.
‘You weren’t meant to see that.’
‘Weren’t meant to see it?’ She tossed the remote control on the coffee table. ‘I just bumped the bloody thing and it’s right there on the screen! What the hell is it anyway?’
Instead of answering, I unplugged the camera and stepped into the bathroom, ran the cold water and rinsed my face. I was embarrassed and knew it only validated her point. I wasn’t on the ball.
‘Get with it,’ I said to myself in the mirror. ‘Lift your game.’