by John Bishop
lad,’ Max said. ‘Try not to expose him too much.’
Max and Ziggy locked the external doors of the main building at sunset. As darkness enveloped the church, they prepared a simple meal in the tiny kitchen area at the end of the vestry and sat down to devise their plans to respond to a range of imagined intrusions. Max told Ziggy about the events of the previous evening, including the activities of the heifer. Ziggy liked the idea of dragging benches across the doorways. At ten, Max locked himself in the vestry. For the first few hours, he slept soundly; but at three in the morning, he was awake. He thought about Judith, alone in their bedroom at Banabrook, or would she and Megan have decided to set up a second bed in the same room for Megan to be close by?
A Job for Bill Smith
Saturday 15th August 1992
Gavin Froyland, alias Bill Smith, had plenty to occupy his mind on the drive back to Arajinna. His decision to call on Lenny d’Aratzio had been a long shot. He had expected his criminal record to make him of interest to the great man, and thought his knowledge of Arajinna might lead to his being put on Lenny’s payroll in some capacity. His hope was for a job that would lead to a career as a member, in good standing, of the Sydney underworld. He was tired of being a one-man operation. He’d never had any clout with the fences who dealt with stolen goods, and had often had to accept “take it or leave it” offers he felt fell short of adequate recompense for the risks he ran. His attempt to build a legitimate business as a contractor had led to a life of tedium away from the places of the night he would like to frequent as a regular who could bypass the queue and get a welcoming “evening Gav” from the bouncer.
On returning to Lenny’s office the morning after his first visit, he was interrogated from ten in the morning until four in the afternoon, with brief breaks for coffee and a lunch of sandwiches brought in by Jodie. He suspected his interview would have been no more rigorous if Lenny had been a recruiting sergeant considering him for active service. This was a comparison Gavin could make because he had spent a few years as a member of the army reserve until a prolonged stint in gaol had disqualified him.
‘So, the army taught you to shoot,’ Lenny said.
‘They wasted no expense.’
‘How did they rate you?’
‘Real good with a rifle.’
‘Side arms?’
‘Only officers are issued with handguns, so the army wasn’t any help to me there. I joined a gun club. Did pretty well. The instructor said I was a natural.’
‘Armed robbery and GBH. That’s the upper end of your experience, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Ever use a weapon on a job, or did you just wave it about?’
‘Came close one time, but I managed to avoid any shooting. Saves getting caught through ballistics tests.’
‘Good thinking. Ever shot anything except on a range?—I mean something alive?’
‘Roos and camels.’
‘Camels?’
‘There’s hundreds of ‘em roaming around in central Western Australia. Got a job with a culling party.’
‘Why?’
‘Thought it’d be fun.’
‘Was it?’
‘Too right!’
‘Well, that’s a plus. Have you any idea what Charlie Magro did in his time?’
‘The odd rumour.’
‘Charlie was top of the heap in his day, but he’d gone a bit soft. Went to water if a bit of skirt entered the picture, and a bit careless sometimes—lacked concentration. I wouldn’t normally bag a deceased associate to a comparative stranger, Gavin; but when I’m looking for a result, I try to start by employing the best. Are you the best?’
‘It was me being in Arajinna I thought might be a help.’
‘And it might, it might.’
‘I wasn’t actually thinking of doing a hit.’
‘Would you? If the price was right?’
‘Maybe. If I thought I could get away with it.’
‘And why wouldn’t you get away with it?’
‘Not easy to make a getaway from a country town. Hard to make a run for it. If the local weed controller suddenly pissed off without a word, he’d be a prime suspect. It’s not like slipping down a back alley at the Cross.’
‘I agree. You’re a thinker; that’s another plus. We do have to think these things through. What if we found you an untraceable weapon you could leave at the scene? You’d have to get Kingsley somewhere on his Pat Malone. Possibility?’
‘Might work. Hard to tell without sussing out his movements.’
Lenny rose gingerly from his chair and took a few slow paces back and forth. Eventually, he said. ‘Forget my last suggestion. I’ve a better one. The guts of it is this. You’re going back to Arajinna tomorrow, right?’
‘Yeah.’
Lenny pushed a pad across the desk. ‘Do me a sketch of how to get to your place. You said near the railway yards. Quiet at night, is it?’
‘Graveyard, most of the time.’
‘In a day or two, a vehicle will pass through town after dark and drop off a visitor for you. I know just the man. Goes by the name of Tom Jones at present. He’ll be scruffy and wearing overalls. You got a room where he can lie low?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Moves like a shadow, does Tom. If you hear a quiet tap on a back window, that’ll be him. He’s one of these coves who can materialize out of nowhere. Scared the living daylights out of me one day. Anyway, your job in all this will be to track Kingsley and work out a spot for the hit. Tom will have to agree on the choice of location, so you’ll need to give him a good idea of the lie of the land. If you have to draw him a map, burn it before he heads out.’
‘I’ve got a lot of stuff we might find useful. The shire gave me army grid-maps of the whole district. And I’ve got a copy of a book with plans and sketches of some of the older buildings—Banabrook and St Mark’s included.’
‘Sounds good. If Tom is running true to form, the only time he’ll want to leave your place is when you drop him off for the job. That’s the last you’ll see of him. Best you don’t know any more about his movements—he’s good though. If you manage to avoid being seen with him, so much the better. If not, your story is he came looking for work and you agreed to try him out as an assistant. Depending on what time you drop him off, and where, you might need to add an explanation about where you were going before he asked you to stop and let him out. He’ll help you decide what story to use. With Kingsley dead, the cops will guess it was someone working for me, and I’m sure to get a visit real quick. Won’t be the first time. Unfortunately, these days I can’t say “and it won’t be the last”. You stick to your story whatever happens. The less of your own routine you change in these situations, the less likely it is you’ll come under suspicion. Even if they find you’ve got a record, they won’t have any evidence you’ve been an accessory to anything. Now, before I forget, you should remember the name John Sutton?’
‘John Sutton. Okay. John Sutton lost a button. John Sutton lost a button. Got it.’
‘You come with built in hidden talents Gavin.’
‘Maybe I missed me calling.’
‘John Sutton is a solicitor. I’ll fill him in. If the cops give you a hard time, don’t contact me. Ring John Sutton who lost the button and say your name’s Bill Smith from Arajinna and you’re being harassed by the police. If it all goes to plan and you get no grief, ring him a week after the big event, and he’ll tell you where to collect your reward. Since you’re not doing the shooting, I reckon twenty G. Okay?’
‘Twenty G will be just fine.’
‘It goes without saying—but I’ll say it anyway—if things don’t go to plan and you end up back in the pokey, my associates will make sure you’re protected inside and you’ll be well compensated in the long run. Do we have a deal?’
‘Signed and sealed,’ Gavin extended his hand and they shook on it.
‘Do you think Kingsley knows the background to Mad Charlie’s accident?’
&n
bsp; ‘It’s hard to say. The locals know some bloke passing through was killed in a road smash. It was news for a day or two. The difference for me was I knew the name Charles Magro. Got me wondering what had brought him to town. I mean, I knew his record. So, I rang an old mate of mine, Ozzie Jackman.’
‘Yes, I know Oracle Ozzie. Always up with the bar-room gossip. Don’t talk to him again.’
‘I’m sorry if–’
‘Okay this time. You were looking for information. Gossip works both ways though. Can’t be too careful.’
‘Okay.’
‘So, Ozzie had heard something had he?’
‘When he said Max Kingsley was on your priority list, it all added up. Which is why I came down to introduce myself. I don’t think the reason for Charlie’s visit is general knowledge in Arajinna, or people wouldn’t be talking about anything else.’
‘But you’d have to reckon Brody will have made the connection—same way you did. Blokes like Charlie Magro don’t simply go to a place like Arajinna and drive past Banabrook. And my guess is Brody will have tipped off Kingsley immediately. So we should assume Kingsley is on the alert.’
‘I guess so.’
‘It won’t worry Tom Jones. And it shouldn’t worry you either. Is there a cop shop in town?’
‘One young copper. The station is in the main street.’
‘Got an excuse to call on him?’
‘I could find a set of keys or something, and hand them in. I’ve got a couple of old keys in the truck. They were for padlocks I threw away ages ago.’
‘You really do have hidden talent, Mr Smith.’
‘I