out into the night.
Burglar!
With Brains on my shoulder, and the fence peaks jabbing into my soft bits, I jumped down into the alley and dialled 000. I told the cop operator where I was and what was happening. ‘Take down my mobile number. I’ll try and watch where he goes.’
She started to say something about my personal safety, but I hung up.
The burglar headed in the opposite way down the alley from me, and veered left. I figured his getaway car must be in the next lane, so I took a shortcut alongside Professor Evans’s orchid house – the way I used to go when I was wagging school.
Brains hopped around on my shoulder, not happy at the speed I was moving, so I coaxed her onto my hand and slipped her inside my shirt. She raked her claws along my bare skin in complaint.
‘Shush!’ I paused to uproot a weed, which I poked in the vicinity of her beak. She latched onto it and settled into crunching as I pelted through into the next lane.
A small white car was parked up against a fence but there was no sign of the burglar.
My phone rang. ‘Yes?’
‘This is Constable Bligh of the Eucalyptus Grove police. Did you call in a burglary sighting?’ said a formal voice.
‘Yes. I think I’ve found the getaway car. Where are you?’
‘Violet Street,’ said the cop.
‘Take the back lane. The car’s halfway along. He’s not here yet. He might have got lost getting back to it.’
‘Stay out of sight, Miss –’ ‘Yeah, yeah.’ I hung up and crouched down behind the bumper of the white car.
Moments later I heard the rasp of laboured breathing. I peeked around the bumper. The burglar had climbed over someone’s fence and was running towards the car. If he got out of the laneway before the cops arrived, he’d get away. The cops were close. I just had to delay him for a minute.
I opened my shirt and popped Brains down on the ground. She was still beaking her weed. Poor darling was starving.
As the burglar passed the boot, I blindsided him. Not just a girlie push, but a full-scale knees-and-ankles rugby league tackle worthy of State of Origin.
We grappled as headlights flooded the lane and police cars bore down on us from either end.
‘Get off!’ shouted the figure, lashing out at me with his fists and feet.
I took one in the eye and screamed.
Brains screeched and flew at him, pecking the burglar’s face like she was a trained killer.
I dropped a knee into what I hoped was the region of his groin but only caught his thigh.
‘Freeze,’ bellowed a cop voice.
A spotlight fixed on us, but the guy was still flailing at Brains, who was doing a pro-boxer’s job of evading him and still getting in a nip.
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ he cried.
‘Sit still,’ I snarled. ‘She’ll keep attacking while you jump around like that.’
He swiped at her again and this time I kicked him hard in the nuts. He went limp and Brains settled on his chest where she dropped a dirty dollop.
The cops from one car ran up. One of them shooed Brains away and rolled the guy over. In the cop’s torchlight I could see the burglar’s face: low forehead, thick curly hair, and a pained expression. Not a face I’d forget on account of the vicious look he was giving me as he cupped his balls. ‘I’ll get you for this, bitch.’
The other cop helped me up, as the burglar was cuffed and dragged off to the car.
‘The people you meet in a dark alley,’ said my cop.
I stared at him. His voice sounded unhappily familiar. ‘Wh-Whitey? Is that you?’
‘Tara Sharp, where are your pants?’ he replied. ‘And what were you doing chasing burglars?’
‘I wasn’t,’ I declared hotly. ‘I was chasing my bird. She got out of her cage and flew into someone’s back yard.’ I pointed at the mansions beyond. ‘I had to take my pants off to climb the fence and catch her.’
‘So you were trespassing then?’ I heard a catch of laughter in his voice.
‘I was on a fence. This guy came bolting out from next door.’
‘What
Burglar!
With Brains on my shoulder, and the fence peaks jabbing into my soft bits, I jumped down into the alley and dialled 000. I told the cop operator where I was and what was happening. ‘Take down my mobile number. I’ll try and watch where he goes.’
She started to say something about my personal safety, but I hung up.
The burglar headed in the opposite way down the alley from me, and veered left. I figured his getaway car must be in the next lane, so I took a shortcut alongside Professor Evans’s orchid house – the way I used to go when I was wagging school.
Brains hopped around on my shoulder, not happy at the speed I was moving, so I coaxed her onto my hand and slipped her inside my shirt. She raked her claws along my bare skin in complaint.
‘Shush!’ I paused to uproot a weed, which I poked in the vicinity of her beak. She latched onto it and settled into crunching as I pelted through into the next lane.
A small white car was parked up against a fence but there was no sign of the burglar.
My phone rang. ‘Yes?’
‘This is Constable Bligh of the Eucalyptus Grove police. Did you call in a burglary sighting?’ said a formal voice.
‘Yes. I think I’ve found the getaway car. Where are you?’
‘Violet Street,’ said the cop.
‘Take the back lane. The car’s halfway along. He’s not here yet. He might have got lost getting back to it.’
‘Stay out of sight, Miss –’ ‘Yeah, yeah.’ I hung up and crouched down behind the bumper of the white car.
Moments later I heard the rasp of laboured breathing. I peeked around the bumper. The burglar had climbed over someone’s fence and was running towards the car. If he got out of the laneway before the cops arrived, he’d get away. The cops were close. I just had to delay him for a minute.
I opened my shirt and popped Brains down on the ground. She was still beaking her weed. Poor darling was starving.
As the burglar passed the boot, I blindsided him. Not just a girlie push, but a full-scale knees-and-ankles rugby league tackle worthy of State of Origin.
We grappled as headlights flooded the lane and police cars bore down on us from either end.
‘Get off!’ shouted the figure, lashing out at me with his fists and feet.
I took one in the eye and screamed.
Brains screeched and flew at him, pecking the burglar’s face like she was a trained killer.
I dropped a knee into what I hoped was the region of his groin but only caught his thigh.
‘Freeze,’ bellowed a cop voice.
A spotlight fixed on us, but the guy was still flailing at Brains, who was doing a pro-boxer’s job of evading him and still getting in a nip.
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ he cried.
‘Sit still,’ I snarled. ‘She’ll keep attacking while you jump around like that.’
He swiped at her again and this time I kicked him hard in the nuts. He went limp and Brains settled on his chest where she dropped a dirty dollop.
The cops from one car ran up. One of them shooed Brains away and rolled the guy over. In the cop’s torchlight I could see the burglar’s face: low forehead, thick curly hair, and a pained expression. Not a face I’d forget on account of the vicious look he was giving me as he cupped his balls. ‘I’ll get you for this, bitch.’
The other cop helped me up, as the burglar was cuffed and dragged off to the car.
‘The people you meet in a dark alley,’ said my cop.
I stared at him. His voice sounded unhappily familiar. ‘Wh-Whitey? Is that you?’
‘Tara Sharp, where are your pants?’ he replied. ‘And what were you doing chasing burglars?’
‘I wasn’t,’ I declared hotly. ‘I was chasing my bird. She got out of her cage and flew into someone’s back yard.’ I pointed at the mansions beyond. ‘I had to take my pants off to climb the fence and catch her.’
‘So you were trespassing then?’ I heard a catch of laughter in his voice.
‘I was on a fence. This guy came bolting out from next door.’
‘What
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