Lugarno Read Online Free Page B

exactly the same. Job lot. All this place needed was a dragon-filled moat.
    I retreated to the front garden in some confusion. It was a little after eight a.m.; the well-heeled residents of this neighbourhood had gone off to work in their BMWs or were hunkered over their computers dealing stocks. I stood beside the carefully tended flower beds wondering what to do next when the front door opened and a woman stepped out onto the verandah.
    â€˜Just what do you think you’re doing prowling around like that?’
    She was tall and striking looking, like a ten-years-younger Germaine Greer. Her hair was a deep brown mane falling around her handsome face to her wide shoulders. She wore a loose red blouse of some material that shimmered, wide-legged white beach pants and sandals withmedium heels. I took this in as I walked towards the porch, getting my credentials from my pants pocket. It never does to be defensive first off. ‘I rang the bell,’ I said, being economical with the truth, ‘several times.’
    â€˜That doesn’t give you the right to march about my property.’
    I was on the steps now and extending the natty leather folder Tess had given me. ‘I’m making enquires about …’
    â€˜You’re not a policeman.’
    She was good, very good. No explanation like—
I was in the shower
or
out the back,
just straight into the attack.
    â€˜I’m a private detective,’ I said. ‘And you are …?’
    â€˜Not someone likely to have any business with you.’
    I stepped up to the porch. In her heels she almost reached my 184 centimetres. She stood still and balanced, unafraid. She was expertly made up and wore a gold chain around her neck, no wedding ring. ‘I’m looking for Ramsay Hewitt.’
    â€˜Look elsewhere. There’s no one of that name here.’
    I don’t mind an occasional points loss, but I don’t fancy being KO’d. I moved a bit closer. ‘He wrote a letter giving this as his address.’
    I thought I saw a flicker in the dark amber eyes but I might’ve been wrong. She wasn’t on the ropes. ‘Whoever he may be, he must have been mistaken.’
    Good jab. She swivelled nicely, stepped backthrough the doorway and closed the door behind her. She didn’t even slam it. A definite win on points.
    My original intention had been to head for the Georges River area after picking up Ramsay Hewitt’s trail in Strathfield but after the encounter with the woman there I changed my mind. Despite myself, I’d got really interested in finding Ramsay. Lachlan University was once a Johnny-come-lately, but since they started turning teachers colleges and colleges of advanced education and technical institutes into universities it had acquired status. And with the unstoppable sprawl of Sydney proceeding apace, North Ryde doesn’t seem so far out.
    I parked about a kilometre from where I wanted to be, the way you have to, and followed a confusing set of signs to the administration block. When I first went out to Lachlan, twenty years ago, it looked more like a construction site than a seat of learning. The raw concrete block buildings sat in the muddy paddocks like alien structures built on another planet and dropped there. Now, time and expert gardening had softened the harsh outlines and blended the buildings into what had become a friendly landscape.
    I presented myself at the Student Records counter and told a bored-looking clerk that I wanted information about a student. The clerk was pale, prematurely balding and smelled of clove cigarettes.
    â€˜Name?’
    I gave it.
    â€˜Number?’
    I recited it.
    His fingers, with the nails bitten down, danced over the keys. ‘What information?’
    â€˜Current address.’
    His smirk was almost a laugh. ‘No way.’
    I showed him my licence folder. ‘I’m a private detective working for his sister. He’s missing and she’s