The Shark Net: Memories and Murder
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Written with the same lyrical intensity and spellbinding prose that has won Robert Drewe's fiction international acclaim, The Shark Net is set in the 1950s in a city haunted by the menace of an elusive serial killer. Drewe's youth in the middle-class seaside suburb of Perth, Australia-often described as the most isolated city in the world-takes a sinister turn when a social outcast (who turns out to be an employee of Drewe's father) embarks on a five-year murder spree. This unusual memoir brilliantly evokes the confluence of adolescent innocence and sexual awakening while a hare-lipped killer who eventually murders eight people, including one of Drewe's friends, lurks in the shadows.
father and I stood around her bed in the Bethesda Hospital on a sunny autumn afternoon with Freshwater Bay gleaming below the window. Yachts bobbed and rattled at their moorings at the Claremont Yacht Club. Their stays tinkled merrily against their masts. It was a fabulous view. After a while the doctors faded from the room. In my mother’s unconscious presence my father and I suddenly embraced for a moment. Tears exploded as he cried out, ‘What will I tell Jan?’ Then we drew apart again and
and listened to the mother-and-baby noises in the next room. Another girl was murdered in the next street shortly afterwards. It was another Saturday night and Shirley McLeod was baby-sitting for Carl and Wendy Dowd in Wavell Road. She was eighteen, an exceptionally bright and pretty girl and, like her friend John Sturkey, a science student on a scholarship at the university. By now these links, or coincidences, if that’s what they were, seemed hardly worth noting. A thunderstorm was raging.
about using the power. He hadn’t shot the milkman he’d said he saw making deliveries along the way. He’d decided against shooting the man he spotted in the front window of Shirley’s Frock Salon (Detective-Sergeant McCurry’s regular client!) making love to his girlfriend the shop dummy. Mr Hatfield skated over that. He said, ‘Can you tell the judge and jury how you felt after the power left you?’ ‘I felt deflated, like a pricked balloon. I knew what I had done but it was too late. I could not
it would have been harder at the end. It made it easier. To be able to just go out and talk to a neighbour, which I’d never been able to do, to be able to go out for walks without his permission. Oh, yes. Possessive! I could never have any money. He used to lock the wardrobe with the money in it and take the key to work with him. One day I took the children to the park and he was at work and he knocked off half an hour earlier than I thought and we got home a bit later than him, and he said, “Do
with enough venom to kill a cart-horse, brown snakes are notoriously aggressive at any age or length. And now it’s trying to crawl into her doll-house. For a moment I stand there stupefied. I’m hardly snake-proofed. I’m barefoot, of course, and wearing only underpants. The snake is nosing into the doll-house’s second floor. Its coils are tipping over tiny tables and chairs and cupboards and people: little plastic mummies and daddies and children. This is overdoing the imagery. It’s like a Pedro