Married To A Monster Ch 01

Copyright 2009 by David Paul

Author's Note:

This is a work of fiction. Please note that the story is based in Australia and is written in Queen's English therefore my American audience will notice subtle differences in wording or phrases.

Chapter 1

The coffee was lousy but obviously the locals liked it as the café was packed at 11in the morning. I'd had worse but it was a close call.

"More coffee hon?"

"No thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"Three dollars."

I handed the waitress a five dollar note and a smile.

"Thanks, keep the change."

"Ok you have a good day."

Small towns...the people are friendly but at times it felt like nothing else existed except the town and its personalities.

I grew up in a small town and worked a farm before I went into the army as an aircraft technician ...that's just army speak for a mechanic.

I'd gotten out of the service a year ago and decided to see more of the country. I guess I was at the moment nothing more than a drifter on walkabout often viewed with suspicion anywhere I went.

I guess being 6 foot 4 inches and 220 pounds made me a magnet for the eye as well. But at 37 years old I was use to the occasional stares. Being constantly on the road lately had given me a nice tan instead of my usual pasty white skin when working indoors.

That's why I preferred to be in a city as I wasn't noticed.

I decided to move on straight away from this town as it gave me the creeps. I couldn't put my finger on why but I trusted my instincts. The town was called Blackridge and was a well maintained pretty town but I just didn't like the place.

I made my way out of the town and was just reaching the town limits when I sensed a car pulling up near me. I looked around and sure enough it was a cop car.

"Hey there slick...you moving on?"

"Yep sure am."

"Good to hear we don't like vagrants mucking up the town."

I'm a bit of a smart arse and was about to return serve when I thought better of it.

"Well I better get moving."

"You do that."

With that the cop pulled away and did a u turn heading back to Blackridge. I had a chuckle to myself, small town cops could be real assholes but I was just looking to move on and maybe find some work at the next town as I was running a little low on funds.

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I'd been walking for about 30 minutes when I saw a vehicle up ahead with its hazard lights on. I came closer and saw a pretty woman of about 35 cursing and kicking her car. I figured I better try to see what the problem was.

"Hey there miss, need some help?"

"Oh hi yeah I do, I'm a bit embarrassed I've got a flat tyre and I'm having problems with the wheel lugs."

"Here allow me."

I took over and changed the tyre in less than 5 minutes including putting the shredded tyre in the boot of her car.

"Well there you go miss. Don't forget to have the tyre in the boot repaired. You have a good day you hear."

"Wait up Mr....?"

"It's Steven, Steven Cahill."

"Well I'm Mrs. Helen Nolan. Please can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"Thanks for the offer Mrs. Nolan and if it wouldn't be a problem just take me as close to the next town as possible."

"Sure. Hop in Steven and you can call me Helen." She smiled.

I put my backpack in the boot and jumped into the front seat of the expensive BMW. Helen Nolan struck me as a woman of privilege and wealth. She looked out of place in a town like Blackridge. Helen started the car and we hit the road.

"So what brings you to Blackridge Steven?"

"Oh I'm just passing through."

"Passing through?"

"Yeah I've been on the road for the past year or so getting to see more of our fine country."

"I see...what did you do before that?"

"I was in the Army."

"Wow the Army like shooting guns and all that stuff?"

"Well not really I was a mechanic more or less but I still had to qualify on the range and do a survival course every year."

"Why did you leave?"

"Well I did my 20 years and just decided at 37 it was time to get out and explore."

"So what's your story Helen?"

"No real story Steven, I'm married no kids and live on a large property about 20 kilometers from here."

"Ok so what does Mr Nolan do?"

"You mean apart from drinking, spending money and chasing women?"

"Sorry... I shouldn't pry."

"No I'm sorry that was uncalled for. Greg owns Blackridge."

"What do you mean owns Blackridge?"

"He's a real estate mogul and deals mostly in hotels and commercial properties."

"Why buy the town then?"

"Oh a couple of reasons I guess. First because he was born here and secondly because the town's land value will go up in the next 5 years or so."

"How?"

"The government is building a large new highway that goes right by Blackridge. Business will be booming and Greg will make a killing."

"Wow."

"Yeah....Wow is the word. So, what's waiting at the next town?"

"Nothing really just a motel bed then I'll look for some work to tie me over."

"Work you say? I know this might sound crazy but how would you like to work for me?"

"In what capacity?"

"Well my handyman slash property manager just quit. I need someone with skills and you said you were a mechanic."

"Well... I don't know."

"Come on I won't bite."

"Alright...let's say a trial 2 week period and see how we go from there."

"Sounds like a deal. We will pay you $650 a week which includes room and board. I hope you don't mind working on a farm."

"Not at all, I grew up on a farm."

"Well a man of many talents. Greg will be pleased."

We drove further on and then turned left up a dirt road. I saw lots of cattle and sheep on the property. The buildings were large and looked virtually new. There were stables, a large shed but what stood out above everything else was the large white mansion.

"Welcome to the White Castle Steven."

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I stood out front of this monstrosity and couldn't believe my eyes. It was the biggest mansion I had ever seen.

"Steven... I'll grab Helga our head maid and she will show you to your quarters. After you have a shower and change I'll introduce you to Greg."

With that said a small tubby woman of about 60 appeared and led me away from the mansion to a small cottage. I went in and was duly impressed. The cottage had a large open plan kitchen and living room.

The bedroom contained a large queen bed, built in closets and ensuite bathroom. I decided to take the hint and I had a long refreshing shower. I then unpacked my meager possessions and changed into jeans and a shirt. It was then time to meet the infamous Greg Nolan.

Greg Nolan was around 50 years of age, he was fit and from a woman's perspective I'd say handsome. He shook my hand and asked me to take a seat.

"So Helen tells me you are going to be our new handyman."

"Yes Sir. That's if you think I'm qualified."

"Qualified? Well just what are your skills?"

I went on to explain that I had been raised on a farm and spent the last 20 years in the service of the army as a helicopter mechanic. Greg Nolan seemed satisfied.

"Well very good Mr Cahill. I'll get Ronald to show you round tomorrow. Ronald is my head of security. Until then...have a nice night."

I'd obviously been dismissed. I wandered around the property until Helga found me. I then had dinner with the other staff. There was Julian the butler who was married to Helga. David who was Mr Nolan's personal chauffer, Rebecca the cook and finally Liz the maid.

I was hoping to get to know Liz a whole lot better. She was a real beauty of about 25 and had a body to die for.

With dinner and introductions done I headed back to my cottage and hit the sack.

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I woke up at around 6am, feeling refreshed. I looked through the kitchen and found it well stocked. I drank a coffee, had a shower and changed into some old fatigues and a shirt.

I headed up to the house and had breakfast. I figured the big meathead staring at me while I ate breakfast must have been Ronald....I was right.

Ronald had an ex-cop look about him and I was spot on again. Ronald was an ex New South Wales drug detective and he obviously liked to dabble in steroids and hit the weights. He was a mountain of a man at around 6 foot 3 inches and probably 240 pounds. Ronald showed me around the property including the 'no go' areas which included the main house and a large hangar and airfield. I could go anywhere else.

I hadn't noticed right away but there were security cameras placed everywhere. I was starting to wonder what was really going on at this property. When I asked Ronald about my predecessor, he only said that he was a drunk and had disappeared leaving no forwarding address.

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It was a good feeling getting my hands dirty again. I assessed the property and I knew the most urgent job was repairing the fences. The Nolan's had a man called Zac who looked after the animals and such and he worked during the day but didn't live at the 'White Castle' like the rest of us. My job was just to maintain the buildings and property boundaries including the equipment.

For the first few weeks I got stuck in to the fencing and made a lot of headway. I rarely saw Greg, Helen or Ronald. The only time in the first month that I talked to Helen was after 2 weeks to say I was happy and would continue on full time. That seemed to please her.

I had come to find the staff an interesting bunch. I didn't much care for Julian or Helga as they were very full of themselves. I took a real shine to David and Liz who were very down to earth. Rebecca was okay but we didn't have many common interests and so we didn't have much to talk about.

I couldn't put my finger on it but something was off about this household. For one thing Helen seemed like a prisoner in the house as she only went out once a week and that was to Blackridge for a couple of hours.

In the first month I observed a hell of a lot of activity at the hanger and the plane would take off at night and never made runs during the day. Ronald seemed to practically live at the hanger while Greg I rarely saw.

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It was in the second month on the job when a few things started to really send warning bells off in my head. David and I had become buddies as we had a lot in common, he was an ex-military man like myself. We started playing cards and having a few drinks each night. It was nearing the end of the night when I made an off the cuff remark

"I tell you what David, I don't know what the last guy did as the handy man but it sure wasn't working. "

"Yeah old Max, he was a weird one that's for sure."

"What do you mean David?"

"Nothing really he just had these wild stories and theories. I didn't hold much stock in them as they only ever came out when he was drunk. Which I can tell you was often."

"Humour me."

"This stays strictly between us right mate."

"Of course."

"Well and this is funny ...he reckons that Greg Nolan is a drug runner or mob guy. The other story he loved to tell was that Greg was fucking Liz and his wife in some sort of threesome deal. As I said he was as mad as a cut snake."

A light bulb went off in my head and the bells were ringing.

"So when did Max tell you all this?"

"I can't remember the first time but he was telling me every day for the last 2 weeks until he up and left. By then he was drinking hard so he just ran his mouth."

"So why did he leave?"

"I don't know but it wasn't a surprise, I mean Max had been working the property for 10 years or so but his work ethic went out the window. The guy was funnily enough an ex-cop but got booted off the force for drinking on the job or something.

You should have seen his room. He had newspaper cutouts, note pads everything on Greg Nolan. It was weird but he had a real hard on for Greg. I'd say he just crawled into a bottle somewhere, he'll turn up sometime"

"So where was his room?"

"You're sitting in it mate."

"So where is his stuff?"

"Ronald boxed it up and it's probably been destroyed. I don't know who cares anyway."

"Yeah, sounds farfetched to me as well."

David and I chatted for a few more minutes and then he left. It was only 9pm so I grabbed a beer and sat down to think.

I wasn't a cop but I knew things weren't right. For starters why did a real estate guy need a security force? Why the night flights? Why the no go zones? Where was Max and why was Helen basically a prisoner in her own home?

Greg Nolan owned Blackridge and by default owned the townspeople. I knew deep down that Max was on to something and that something got him killed.

Max's disappearance didn't fit. He'd been drinking since he was a cop so why suddenly leave after 10 years in good paying work? No Max was dead and I had to be very careful and get to the bottom of things without tipping anyone off.

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I worked all day Friday and was nearly complete on the re-fencing. As it was payday again I decided to go into town on Saturday and buy myself a car. I wasn't under any restrictions and the weekends were my own.

Early Saturday morning David gave me a lift into Winston Valley the town I was originally headed to when I first left Blackridge months ago. I didn't want to buy any goods in Blackridge if I could help it. I found a used car lot and started looking at vehicles.

A 1997 Toyota Corolla caught my eye, it had done some miles but I checked the car and the log books over and it was in tip top mechanical shape. I made a good deal with the salesman and he was going to put new tyres on and a tank full of fuel. It would be ready to collect at 1pm. With that progress made I called David to tell him of my good fortune and that I would find my own way back.

Having a few hours to kill I went to a small café and had something to eat. After I walked around fairly aimlessly to get the lay of the land, I found that the library was open on Saturdays so I went in to do some research on Greg and Helen Nolan. I wanted to know what I was up against.

The librarian showed me to the microfilm room where I could go through newspapers going back several decades. They also had computers which linked onto the internet. For the next 2 hours I went through decades of newspapers and did a search on the internet and it was well worth it. I knew at the end of my time at the library that I was in a world of trouble and I had to get out.

Greg Nolan's story was one of interest. I knew all the basic facts beforehand that he was a multi millionaire that had inherited his father's real estate development business. Greg had then shot for the moon and started investing in hotels. He hit pay dirt when he started the budget Bayside Hotel chain. Going back his childhood was one of privilege but he was very rebellious and landed himself in military school to avoid jail time. He had some very shady friends and there were question marks over his business dealings.

Greg Nolan had been investigated by the federal police and tax department but he was like teflon as nothing ever stuck. The Blackridge buy up was interesting. It seemed as if Nolan through his political connection found out many months before the announcement that a highway was being built next to the town.

He then went about buying up the cheap land in and around Blackridge. It seemed that those who wouldn't sell had mysteriously either disappeared or had acts of arson preformed on their properties. To make matters worse Greg Nolan's best friends were the mayor and police chief.

Helen Nolan nee Williams was also interesting. She had met Greg at university when he went there for a business lecture. Helen had a degree in international banking and Greg charmed his way into her heart despite the 15 year age gap. She first worked for him at Nolan Investments and then married him. I couldn't find much else of importance on the Nolan's.

I did a quick search on Ronald Graves and was stunned at the result. Prior to Ronald becoming the head of security for Nolan Investments he had been a New South Wales Detective. Ronald "Digger" Graves was the worst kind of cop imaginable. He had been severely reprimanded over his brutal interrogation tactics.

He had been investigated by the Independent Police Commission on charges of corruption and there were various suspicious shootings and beatings. Nothing stuck but the heat was on and he finally resigned from the police force to work for Greg Nolan.

It was nearing 1pm so I had time for one more search on Max Shillington who I had replaced. . Max looked to have been a damn good cop. He had an impressive arrest record and had numerous citations for bravery. Max was the complete opposite to Ronald Graves.

It didn't say much about his drinking but another article about the death of his wife and daughter in a plane crash spoke volumes. He was a good man and it seemed once a cop always a cop. I knew for sure Max was dead.

I left the library with a sore head and information buzzing about. I brought a disposable mobile phone and then headed over to the car dealership and picked up the Toyota. I figured it was time to head over to Blackridge and discreetly look around.

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I ended up at the same café that I had coffee at months before. I didn't think I could stomach the coffee again so I ordered a chocolate milkshake and some pie. I looked around and the café was pretty quiet. A man of about 55 nodded in my direction and motioned me over so I grabbed my shake and pie and joined him.

"Well you must be the new handyman at the Nolan's place."

"Yes sir, I'm Steven Cahill."

"I'm Toby Walters, a friend of Max Shillington's. You have an ex-military look about you."

"What gave me away?"

"Your eyes, the way you walk and talk."

"Well sir I'm ex-Army."

"Ex- Army yeah you look it. I'm ex-navy myself."

"Have you heard from Max?"

"I'll never hear from Max again."

I looked at the man and made a gut call that would either kill me or help me.

"Toby we need to talk and away from here."

It was agreed we would meet at his house tomorrow for lunch. With that done I paid my bill and left to head back to the Nolan property.

I arrived back at White Castle and ran straight into Ronald Graves.

"Where the fuck you been?"

"Buying a car, what's it to you muscle head?"

"I like to know where Nolan's people are at all times."

"Hey pal weekends are mine and you aren't my boss."

"Just watch your step asshole; I've got my eye on you."

"No worries Ronnie, I'll keep you informed every time I have a shit."

"Fuck you wise ass."

Lovely! I now had the muscle head on my back. I would have to play things very cool.

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Something had been eating away in the back of my mind and after visiting the library it didn't make sense. Max Shillington was a good cop, so why would he have all the articles hanging about for anyone to see or in this case seize. From what I read about Max it had to be a smokescreen.

There had to be something that was overlooked in the cottage as I knew Ronald's expertise wasn't in searching for lost goods.

I spent the next few hours tearing up the cottage and had found nothing. I was about to give up when I looked over to the fireplace. I had a good look in it and I hit gold. I found a loose floorboard right near the fireplace. It came away and there was something underneath. I put my hand down and brought up a diary. Max was no idiot.

The diary was eye opening and answered a lot of questions. The first entry was on January 23rd and the last entry was on February 16th. I had began working for the Nolan's in March.

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January 23rd

I'm on to something! I spoke with my old partner Mac and Ronald Graves is the worst kind of scum. A corrupt ex- cop who killed and bent the law at his will. I don't know who is worse him or Nolan. I've decided to keep notes in case something happens and hopefully this will get to Mac. I am going to have to do something soon as I fear for Helen and I'd die if anything happened to her.