Jason was right. It was the fourth floor. One of the flat’s doors was open. From inside there came the staccato bursts of talk and static from police radios. They walked up to the door. Inside the flat there were three officers, in uniform. "Who are you?" one asked, alert and faintly hostile.
By tacit consent, the three of them left it to Jason to speak.
“We’re friends of the two men who live here. Luigi and Cody. He phoned us … “ Jason turned to the others “… half an hour ago? I didn’t see the message at once.”
“Why not?” The hostility was stronger now.
“Well, duh! We were asleep.” Jason gestured at the darkness beyond the flat’s walkway.
“Wait here,” ordered the policeman.
“They’re not goin’ to be quick enough,” whispered Keith. “While they’re checkin’ up, Lou and Cody are getting further and further away.”
“What was the name of that policemen from Mt Macedon?” asked Esmé. “If we could get hold of him, he could help!”
“Yeah.” Keith frowned. “Fuck! What was his name?”
“Something beginning with an F? No, it wasn’t …. It was ….”
“Colin! That’s his name. But I don’t have his number.”
“Well, maybe the police here could get hold of him.”
“Fuck them!” growled Keith. “Arseholes! We’ll google the number.” His face became intent.
Jason looked at him and thought, God, I love him. And then thought, How can I think of that at a time like this? And that was immediately followed by What better time? What better time to think of love when someone you care for is in danger of his life?