Leigh Redhead - Thrill City

PRAISE FOR PEEPSHOW

Peepshow is a triumph... Stripping with irony, all bundled up into a ripping crime novel! I cant wait for more.
Stiletto Magazine

With Peepshow, Redhead announces herself as the bright new kid on the crime block.Sydney Morning Herald

Witty, quite brilliant first novel.Weekend Australian

A wonderful debut.NW Magazine

Redhead has created a true original.Daily Examiner

Tarts with hearts are always winners.Sunday Times

PRAISE FOR RUBDOWN

The best Australian crime novel this year has been Leigh Redheads Rubdown.Weekend Australian

Leigh Redhead offers a flute of refreshing bubbles in Rubdown.Spectrum

Rubdown is a criminally witty romp on the sexy side of the mean streets.Australian Book Review

Redhead announced herself as the bright new kid on the crime block, less shabby chic than tart noir.
Sydney Morning Herald

Robust, good natured and enjoyable thriller. Who needs imports like Evanovich when theres a Redhead in St Kilda?The AgeReview

PRAISE FOR CHERRY PIE

Like a literary striptease, the plot is revealed little by little, just enough to keep the reader engrossed.Sun Herald

Cherry Pie should come with a series of warnings. Do not read this book if you have led a sheltered life and plan to keep it that way... Do not, under any circumstances, read this book in public, while eating or drinking, as you may splutter with laughter and embarrass yourself.Sydney Morning Herald

Reckless and easily riled, full of sass and spirit, Simone has a sharp eye and smart mouth, and her wry world view infuses these books with a kind of wisecracking tone that will be welcome and familiar to readers of Sue Grafton or Janet Evanovichalthough Redheads books can be a lot sexier.The Age

Cherry Pie unfolds an intriguing story, full of twists and turns you dont see coming, all underpinned by a great sense of humour.
Sisters in Crime

LEIGH REDHEADs first novel, Peepshow, burst onto the crime scene introducing PI Simone Kirsch to readers. Simone made her next appearance in Rubdown, followed by Cherry Pie and now Thrill City, Leighs fourth crime novel.

thrill city

LEIGH REDHEAD

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

First published in 2010

Copyright Leigh Redhead 2010

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com

Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available
from the National Library of Australia
www.librariesaustralia.nla.gov.au

ISBN 978 1 74114 737 7

Set in 11.5/14 pt Bembo by Bookhouse, Sydney
Printed in Australia by McPhersons Printing Group

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Michael LynchA boy as beautiful as you
shouldnt be buying his own drinks

Contents

I need to pee. Kate crossed her legs and squirmed, pulling the bottom strap of her seatbelt away from her lower abdomen.

Jeremy kept his eyes on the road and his hands tight on the steering wheel.

They were on their way from Melbourne to Daylesford and the countryside had changed from parched fields to swelling hills dotted with giant boulders and small scrubby trees. Soon there would be forest. She couldnt wait. It had been so long since theyd had a weekend away, and they wouldnt even be here now if it hadnt been for that horrible argument after Carls barbecue. At least something good had come out of it, because now they were headed for forests, lakes and country cottages, cherry-hued pinot noirs and exotic, washed rind, handcrafted cheeses. Proper forests, too. Birches and spruce and maple and pine.

She felt vaguely unpatriotic preferring European trees, but the Australian bush was so coarse and prickly and such a washed-out khaki colour that it made her mouth dry just thinking about it. She wanted deep lush greens and rich mahoganies, and fields of grass as soft and verdant as billiard table felt. She wasnt sure why. Shed only been to the UK and Europe once, as a backpacker, fifteen years ago. Perhaps it was a collective, Anglo-Saxon, unconscious thing?

Pain spiked up her urethra like hot wire. She pressed her thighs together. Jeremy, I really need to pee.

He glanced at her, irritated. It seemed to be his default setting these days. When had he changed? Theyd been together for seven years, married for three. Was it after the wedding? Or since theyd bought the house? Shed been so excited to own a home at first, but now it loomed over them like a money sucking monster, an insatiable demon demanding to be fed. No holidays away, no bottles of French champagne, definitely no all-night benders like they used to go onlots of booze, the occasional pill or line of coke if they were feeling particularly naughty. Definitely no crazy sex in hotel rooms till way past dawn. They only had sex about once a month now anyway. He was fixated on having a baby, not that they could afford it, and only wanted to do it when she was ovulating. How the hell was she supposed to know when she was ovulating? It wasnt like you could feel the egg pop out of the fallopian tube.

Jeremy.

Were almost there. His receding brown hair fluttered in the air-conditioners updraft. Twenty, thirty minutes, tops. Just hang on.

I cant.

Fucks sake, its not even a two hour drive. Didnt you go before we left?

Of course. But Ive drunk a litre and a half of water since then. She kicked at the empty plastic bottle rolling around in the foot-well.

What the hell for?

They say you have to drink at least four litres a day. Not counting coffee and alcohol.

Whos they?

I dont know. Experts.

I thought it was six glasses.

That was in the eighties. It keeps going up. It was two litres in the nineties and now its four.

Jesus.

Look. She pointed as they whizzed past a green metal road sign. Turnoff for Castlemaine. Eight kilometres. Theres a sign for a public toilet.

I am not going sixteen ks out of our way.

Then Ill wee on the seat.

Jeremy abruptly hit the brakes and jerked the steering wheel so that the hatchback swerved onto the shoulder, crunching gravel and spitting up dust. The sudden inertia woke their labrador, Charlie, who gave a whiny yawn, stretched, and stuck his head in the gap between the seats. Kate smelled his hot, meaty breath and felt his tongue slobber affectionately over her ear. She reached back, hooked her fingers under his collar and rubbed his thick fur. Jeremy stared at her.