Salt and Blood by Peter Corris

review of his case and a certified copy of a statement by a Dr Jerry Weir advising that Harkness was fit to rejoin society. There was a list of recommended therapists. Nothing about medication. Maybe Rutherford House was wary about revealing what he’d been on.
    â€˜I think I might have a talk to this Dr Weir,’ I said. ‘He seems to be one of the good guys.’
    â€˜A shrink. He won’t tell you anything.’
    â€˜You never know. Meanwhile I suppose I’d better stay here tonight and keep an eye on him. Though we’re going to have to give him some time on his own if we’re going to do any useful investigating.’
    â€˜Yeah, but not right away.’
    â€˜No, I’ll stick close for a couple of days at least, but I need to nip out now for a few minutes.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜I have to get something to drink.’
    â€˜Right.’
    â€˜Do you mind waiting, or are you going out somewhere?’
    â€˜No. Why?’
    â€˜You’re all dressed up?’
    She delayed answering by carefully folding up the papers and restoring them to the envelope and the jacket. She kept her head turned away. ‘I do it from time to time to make me feel better.’
    Over the next few days I did what I’d been expecting to do with Rodney Harkness, which was hang out with him. He seemed to recover from his fugue and made no reference to it the next day. We stayed local. Bondi. Bondi Junction. Nothing fell from a great height. No drive-by shooting. He drew out some money and shopped for food, things for the flat and some clothes. He bought some expensive coffee and a top-line grinder, ground it himself and drank quite a lot of it. If he was missing the grog he didn’t show it. It turned out that he could cook and he did and seemed to enjoy it. He joined the Waverley Library and borrowed some books, mostly biographies.
    He asked me a few questions about Glen and I filled him in as much as I thought necessary.
    â€˜Were you on with her?’
    â€˜For a time. Quite a while ago. It ended amicably, more or less.’
    I didn’t tell him about her drinking or AA. Her business. The third day I left him at a movie and checked my messages at home and at the office. Glen left a message to say that Warren had arranged the flat and bank account himself and that no one else knew about it. She’d got Warrento phone Rutherford House and he’d been told that Rod wasn’t on any medication. Nothing else important except that the car was ready. In the afternoon we got a bus up to the northern beaches and collected the car. They’d done a good job on the roof and the windscreen and there didn’t seem to be any glass inside the car. But there would be; there always is.
    He was quiet as we began the drive back, taking in the sights. Around Mona Vale he stopped looking and turned his head towards me. ‘Are you going to let me hire you, Cliff?’
    â€˜It’s dodgy. I’ve talked about it to Glen because I’m sort of subcontracted to her. Why don’t we let it ride for a while? See how it works out. But since I’m going to try and find out who worked on your release … you know, one thing could lead to another.’
    â€˜How are you going to go about that? They wouldn’t tell me. That is, they wouldn’t say who brought my case to the attention of the lawyers.’
    I didn’t want to set him off again by saying I’d talk to the shrink. I told him I’d get some legal advice about accessing the Rutherford House records. I suggested that if the worst came to the worst they could be hacked into. Gave him some mumbo-jumbo about Freedom of Information. He seemed to swallow it.
    â€˜I should be thinking about getting back to work,’ he said. ‘Getting my life in order. But with this life threat stuff, and not knowing who’s fucking with me … it’s hard to focus on it.’
    Safe train of thought. Worth