Ecstasy Lake by Alastair Sarre

another woman, also dressed in black, if less sexily, who had emerged from the back seat of a family sedan. I was fairly sure she was Hiskey’s wife, Sonia, although I hadn’t seen her for many years. A black-suited Tasso was in attendance, being solicitous, which he was good at when he tried. The funeral director was handing out programs.
    â€˜So that’s the famous Tasso.’ I glanced behind me. Tarrant hadn’t changed much since I’d last seen him several years before: his sandy eyebrows were still hard to see against his pale skin, and he was still wearing a bland, hollow-cheeked smile that told me nothing except that he evidently wasn’t getting enough to eat. He strolled forward to stand alongside me.
    â€˜What the hell are you doing here, Tarrant?’
    â€˜I’m not here for pleasure, put it that way.’ He had upgraded his suit since I’d seen him last, and this one wasn’t coming apart at the seams. Beneath his unbuttoned jacket was a hideous tie that only a cop would get away with wearing.
    â€˜You’re looking sharp. You been promoted?’
    He grunted. ‘In a minor way. I’m a Detective Inspector now, which means I get a bit more money and a shitload more work. Especially paperwork. And I love paperwork so much I decided to come to a funeral instead.’ He was watching the mourners as he spoke but then he looked at me. He had good eyes for a cop; they gave nothing away, but they had just enough humanity in them to make you think he might be honest. ‘Tasso your friend?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Hiskey, too?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜How did you know him?’
    â€˜We went through university together. He studied geology, Tasso and I did mining engineering.’ I gestured towards the mourners, who were starting to move into the chapel under the mournful guidance of a decrepit priest and the smarmy funeral director. ‘Most of those blokes are the same—either engineers or geologists. It’s a small community.’
    â€˜Were you close to him?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t say that. I hadn’t seen him for years, probably more than five.’
    â€˜What about Tasso? Was he close to Hiskey?’
    â€˜I don’t really know. Closer than I was, I guess.’
    â€˜I hear Tasso has money.’
    â€˜You can hear it from here?’
    He gave me a deadpan ‘your jokes are shit’ look. ‘Where did it come from? The money.’
    â€˜It’s all above board. Tasso’s smart and prepared to take a risk. He bought a mining lease in Western Australia that no one wanted and proved that it had more copper in it than anyone thought. The price of copper went up and he sold the lease for ten times what he paid. After he’d paid off the loans he was worth two or three hundred mill.’
    Tarrant whistled. ‘Nice.’
    â€˜Anything’s possible in a mining boom.’
    â€˜What about you, West? Have you got rich, too, since I last saw you?’
    I held out the lapel of my suit. ‘Does it look like I got rich?’ He didn’t respond. ‘Why are you here, anyway?’
    â€˜As of today, I’m investigating Hiskey’s murder. The powers-that-be have put together a taskforce, and I’m in charge of it. In fact, I am the taskforce, not including my assistant.’ He took a packet of gum out of his pocket, withdrew a sliver of silver foil, and offered the packet to me. I shook my head. He removed the silver foil and put the gum in his mouth with a slow, measured movement. ‘Tell your mate Tasso I’ll be in to see him tomorrow.’ His jaw started chewing, regular as a heartbeat. ‘You’d better go or you’ll miss the service.’ I looked across the road. The mourners were inside the chapel now and the funeral director was lighting a cigarette.
    I heard a rumbling, and a convoy of bikes, two abreast with headlights on, turned into the access