Fat, Fifty & F<li><li><li>ed!

by Geoffrey McGeachin

  ‘Must be more to it than that,’ Faith said.

  ‘We crossed paths in a village up north one day. He had a private army of mercenaries from one of the hill tribes and they had about thirty people bailed up in a ditch. Old men, women and kids.’ Jack opened the trunk again and took out a long thin knife in a leather sheath. ‘Albris reckoned they were Vietcong and I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t turned up he would have blown them all away, and taken a lot of pleasure in doing it. He was seriously pissed off that I pulled rank and spoiled his fun. Seemed to have it in for me after that.’ Hitching up his trouser leg, Jack strapped the knife to his calf. ‘And Albris really knows how to hold a grudge.’

  ‘Odd choice for a butler on Len’s part?’ said Martin.

  ‘Perfect choice, really. You can train someone like Albris in all the social graces and then unleash that killer instinct when you need to.’

  ‘Such a lovely world you live in, Jack,’ Faith said.

  ‘I’m retired, Faith, remember?’ He glanced at VT. ‘And true love has made me a better man. Now,’ he said, looking back at them, ‘if you still want to go through with this, remember what I said. You guys are to hang back and look after the crew. All Len’s staff usually hate his guts, so I doubt they’ll give us any trouble. If it goes pear-shaped, you jump in Maxie’s tinny and POQ. Understood?’

  Martin and Faith nodded in agreement.

  ‘And what do we say if we’re challenged by anyone?’ Martin asked. ‘These outfits aren’t exactly tropical.’

  ‘We could say we were on the way to the Sydney Film Festival and we got lost,’ Faith suggested.

  ‘That could work.’ Jack smiled wryly. He took his mobile from his pocket and punched in a number. ‘Time to check the state of the pitch with Max,’ he said. ‘Is Dorothy there?’ he asked when the call was answered. ‘I’m a friend. What? No, I’m sorry, I must have written it down incorrectly.’ He ended the call and the phone rang immediately.

  ‘Maxie,’ Jack said, ‘as I live and breathe, and believe me I do … Yep, sorry you had to get the willies like that, but we’re all just hunky-dory … Yep, Biggles too. So how are things hanging?’

  Jack listened for a minute, nodded, said, ‘Bugger,’ softly, then said his goodbyes and hung up. ‘Good news and bad news,’ he told them. ‘Max has been sitting out to sea watching the action with a starlight scope. Albris ran the four goons over to the dock in a rubber duckie and they drove off somewhere. He took the rubber duckie back to the yacht, but not before shooting Maxie’s tinny full of holes and sinking it off the end of the dock. He’s a careful sod, that Albris. Looks like we’ve got a problem.’

  ‘Can’t Max pick us up and take us out to the yacht?’ Martin asked.

  VT was pulling on a flight suit. ‘Max’s cruiser is too big and noisy.’

  ‘VT’s right,’ Jack said, ‘they’d see and hear us coming a mile off. It’s a whole lot easier with the goons out of the way, but how the hell do we get out there?’

  ‘You mean you don’t have an inflatable boat in the bottom of your trunk?’ Faith said. ‘I’m surprised.’

  A thought struck Martin and he walked across the room and onto the balcony. ‘Come and have a look out here,’ he called.

  The other three joined him. It was after nine and the resort guests had retired to their rooms after a hard day of relaxing in the sun. Martin was looking towards the lagoon.

  ‘If we’re borrowing that Land Rover to drive to the bay, then we could easily get a couple of those in the back.’

  Jack looked at the lagoon and then at Martin.

  ‘It looks like a pretty calm night out on the water,’ Martin added.

  Jack tightened the webbing belt around his waist. ‘I do believe you’re suggesting we head off to a showdown with Arthur Leonard Barton and his psychopathic sidekick in a couple of plastic pedal boats.’

  ‘The two on the end are mostly black,’ Martin said, warming to his theme. ‘They’d be even harder to spot than Max’s silver tinny.’

  ‘Well.’ Jack scratched his head. ‘It’s a plan. And it makes about as much sense as anything I can think of. Probably more. I guess we should give it a whirl.’

  ‘Bags I get to steer ours,’ Faith said.

  twenty-nine

  Arthur Leonard Barton jabbed at his sticky date pudding with a fork. Too damn chewy. He realised it had been a mistake not bringing the chef from home with him on this trip.

  At that same moment Albris realised his own mistake – standing with his back to the dining-room door. The cold metal of a pistol muzzle pressing into the base of his skull made the hairs on his neck stand up.

  Len looked up from his pudding as Albris raised his hands. ‘You are a dick, Albris,’ he said. ‘I warned you. No bodies, no bits, no confirmed kill. You should have kept looking till you had an answer either way.’ He put down his fork. ‘Shit for fucking brains,’ he said slowly.

  A muscle fluttered under Albris’s left eye. ‘That’s why face to face is better,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘Face to face, you always know for sure.’

  ‘Only if you win,’ Jack said. ‘And you stuffed it up out on the road, big-time. Outgunned by a bank manager. Jesus!’

  An increase in the pressure on his neck forced Albris towards the centre of the cabin. Jack followed him in, keeping the pistol aimed carefully at the back of the bodyguard’s head. Len wiped his mouth with his napkin.

  ‘You’ll need armour-piercing bullets if you intend shooting him in the head, Jack,’ he said.

  ‘Ah, I’ve missed the warm regard you have for your loyal staff, Len.’ Jack indicated the table with the tip of his pistol. ‘Sit down at the table, Albris, like a good boy. With both hands around that ice bucket.’

  Albris sat. Jack kept the pistol aimed at his head. ‘If you do anything even the least bit odd,’ he said, ‘I will shoot you. And that’s not a threat, it’s a promise.’

  Walking behind Albris, he removed the Glock automatic from under his jacket. Martin and Faith stepped over the door sill into the cabin, Martin carrying the Skorpion.

  ‘You should remember Martin and Faith, Len,’ Jack said. ‘You all had dinner together recently, I believe.’ He handed the Glock to Faith. ‘Pity you sent the four stooges back to the mainland, Len. Deck security was a little light on.’ He motioned for Len to get up.

  ‘Couple of them were injured, so I sent them to see a quack,’ Len explained calmly as he stood up, his hands raised. ‘I’m a compassionate man, Jack, your opinion notwithstanding.’

  Jack expertly patted him down for weapons and then motioned for him to sit.

  ‘I guess you must have been bawling your eyes out when you triggered the explosives in our van, then,’ Faith said.

  ‘It’s just business, girlie,’ shrugged Len. ‘I needed a delivery vehicle. Yours was the only one going to the right place with any real chance of being allowed in. Jack here was getting way past his use-by date and starting to smell. Publicly.’

  ‘So you kept the cops off our backs and our names out of the papers? To give us a free run?’ Martin said.

  Len smiled pleasantly. ‘I will admit to being in a position to call in favours at all levels of government and across the media.’ He reached for his tobacco pouch and started to roll a cigarette. ‘That body swap in the four-wheel drive was good. We thought you’d carked it there for a minute. Had the forensics guys in a tizz. Me too. Then Albris got it sorted and you resurfaced, picked up that campervan, which was ideal for our purposes, and everything was back on track.’ He licked the cigarette paper and sealed it.

  ‘Bad luck for us, I guess,’ Faith said. ‘We wind up being collateral damage.’

  ‘You have to see it from Len’s point of view,’ Jack said. ‘He’s got a nice little operation going, collecting intelligence for the government and on the government. Add that to his business empire and you’ve got a very powerful individual. Anyone who threatens that is expendable. It’s not personal. Right, Len?’

 
; Len took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Exactly, Jack,’ he smiled.

  ‘I guess one thing in your favour, Len,’ Faith said, ‘is you do some of your own dirty work. That hitchhiker act of yours was very good.’

  ‘Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist stopping for an old coot like me, darlin’,’ he said. ‘Besides, Albris kept screwing it up. Years of training and he still has trouble with the concept of gentle persuasion.’

  ‘Looks good in a suit, though,’ Faith said. ‘And impeccable manners.’

  ‘He’s quite a conundrum, our Albris. Great around the house but goes bloody psycho when I let him out.’

  ‘Once had a cat named Leroy who was a bit like that,’ Faith said. ‘Having him neutered solved most of the problems.’

  ‘Fuck you, bitch!’ Albris snarled. He swung in his seat, taking his hands from the ice bucket.

  ‘Come on, children, let’s not fight,’ Jack said. ‘Martin, is that Skorpion on full auto?’

  Martin glanced down at the fire selector and nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ Jack said, ‘the next time Albris takes his hands away from that ice bucket, pull the trigger and hold it down till the magazine’s empty.’

  Albris glared at Jack and returned his hands to the ice bucket.

  Jack smiled sweetly. ‘And by the by, Len, I should warn you I’ve seen Martin in action. Sitting that close to Albris, it’ll be your turn to become collateral damage. No offence meant, Martin, but you do tend to spray it about a bit.’

  Faith had been moving about the cabin, inspecting the fittings. ‘This is a lovely boat, Len. Nothing but the best. Even the blonde in the school uniform in your stateroom. Very top-shelf.’

  ‘Told you, love,’ Len said, ‘the better half’s in Paris shopping. The girl okay?’

  ‘She’s fine. Conveniently for us, she had a very nice set of fur-covered handcuffs in her purse.’

  ‘Okay, Jack,’ Len said, ‘let’s get down to tintacks. What do you want?’

  ‘I just want a long, quiet life, Len. And your boat.’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Well, for starters, that girl in your bedroom looks about fifteen. Do her mum and dad know she’s in the bedroom of a sleazy old billionaire on a school night? Wouldn’t look too good in the Sunday tabloids.’

  ‘Oh, grow up, Jack,’ Len snapped. ‘People trying to get on my good side are always sending their teenage daughters over in the family Bentley to butter me up. When you’re as fucking rich and powerful as I am, mud doesn’t stick. And don’t forget, I am the Sunday tabloids.’

  Jack walked over to Len and whispered in his ear. Len frowned.

  ‘You are an A-grade prick, Stark,’ he snarled.

  ‘Worse than that, mate, I’m an A-grade prick with a CD full of photographic evidence.’

  Len looked at him coldly. ‘What do you want, exactly?’ he asked.

  ‘I told you, the boat and a quiet life for me and my friends.’

  ‘Why the boat? You can have airline tickets to anywhere in the world.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘I feel like an ocean cruise. Besides, we’ve got a ton of luggage and you’ve got lots of other boats.’

  Len seemed to be considering this. ‘Do I get the photographs then?’

  Jack smiled. ‘Well, that would make me a bigger dick than Albris here, wouldn’t it?’ He pulled a sheaf of folded documents from his back pocket. ‘And here’s a bit of luck, Len,’ he said cheerily. ‘We found the ship’s papers in your office safe. And I thought the whole point of a safe was you kept the door closed.’

  Jack slid the papers across the table to Len. ‘You sign the transfer of title and we motor away.’

  Len leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. ‘Contracts made under duress are easily nullified.’

  Jack tossed a pen on the table. ‘Don’t dick me around, Len. You cross me, and one click of a mouse plasters your personal life all over the web. And you know how efficient that is, you’ve used it. Like you’ve used me.’

  Len held Jack’s gaze as he leaned forward and picked up the pen. He paused for a moment, then signed the papers and threw them back across the table.

  ‘Want to be a witness, Albris?’ Jack asked. ‘Faith here can show you how to make an X.’

  ‘I should have killed you when I had the chance,’ Albris snarled.

  ‘Jesus, mate, be fair,’ Jack said. ‘Every time you had the chance, you didn’t have the balls. Or the nous.’ He folded the documents and put them in his pocket. ‘And there’s something that puzzles me, Len. You knew you had the bomb in place after Martin and Faith arrived, so why didn’t you just flick the switch right then? You’d have heard the bang down on the Gold Coast.’

  Len took the last drag on his cigarette and exhaled slowly. ‘I wanted to cruise up and have a front-row seat, Jack. I just love a good pyrotechnics display.’

  ‘Especially if I’m standing right in the middle of it,’ Jack said.

  ‘Let’s just say that was a bit of a bonus.’ Len stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Or would have been if things had worked out.’

  ‘Fair enough, but in that case, what was all that high-testosterone bullshit out on the road about?’

  ‘I’m afraid the ambush thing was all Albris’s doing, Jack, and strictly against my orders. Stupid bloody idea. He doesn’t understand it should never be personal.’

  ‘That’s always been his problem, Len. He likes to see the look in his victims’ eyes.’

  After a long silence, Faith walked over to Len. ‘There was an old couple in a campervan like ours,’ she said. ‘We gave them our mobile and I swapped number plates. That didn’t cause them any serious trouble, did it?’

  Albris looked uncomfortable. Len shook his head. ‘They’re okay,’ he said. ‘They had a bit of a run-in with Albris after he tracked you to the pub. One of his boys crashed the party and got a description of your van and the rego number. Took him a while to get back to the chopper with the details. Found it hard to tear himself away from the roast lamb, apparently.’

  ‘And?’ Faith asked.

  ‘Albris was pretty pissed off when he eventually spotted that blue hair from the chopper and realised you’d done a switcheroo. He pulled them over to find out what was what, but the old girl gave him better than she got. Told you my generation was pretty tough, girlie.’

  ‘Don’t call me girlie,’ Faith said. ‘And don’t put yourself in the same class as Cliff and Hazel. They’re way out of your league.’

  Len looked around the cabin. ‘By the way, where’s your bumboy, Jack?’

  ‘He’s hovering around somewhere, Len. Don’t fret about it.’ Jack glanced at his watch. ‘I think we need to get moving. All ashore that’s going ashore. The crew voted to stay on with us to the first port of call. They also voted you the meanest bastard of all time.’

  ‘You really should try being nicer to the people who prepare your food, Len,’ Martin said. ‘You wouldn’t believe some of the things they’ve been putting in your soup.’

  ‘Time to go, gentlemen,’ Faith announced, ‘and trust me, I’m using the term very loosely. Do you want to get the poppet up on deck, Martin?’

  He nodded. Faith held up three life jackets. ‘We need to hang onto that rubber duckie, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to put these on.’

  Arthur Leonard Barton turned white.

  ‘It’s not as bad as all that, Len,’ Jack said. ‘The weather’s just perfect for a little cruise in a pedal boat.’

  ‘They’re two-seaters,’ Faith said. ‘You might want to draw straws to see who gets stuck with Albris.’

  *

  The two bobbing pedal craft were long behind them when Jack cut the throttles and the huge boat slowed, then stopped. He began flicking switches on the bridge console. Suddenly the rear deck was flooded with light.

  ‘Gotcha,’ he murmured. ‘Martin, you wanna go topside and check if the helipad is lit up?’

  ‘So that’s what that is,’ Martin said. ‘I tho
ught this tub had its own tennis court.’

  ‘Could be a squeeze for the Huey, but VT will put her down if she can be put down. No swell, which is good. We’ll just let her drift.’

  Jack was hunting through drawers and cupboards. He pulled out a large pistol and some thick, waxed cardboard tubes. Up on deck he cocked the pistol and fired it into the night sky. There was a trail of smoke and then the blinding light of a flare, which began falling in a slow arc back to the water.

  A few minutes later, they heard the thwok thwok thwok of the Huey flying towards the flare. Jack lit a wick on the end of one of the cardboard tubes and orange smoke began to billow from it. He handed it to Faith.

  ‘Go to the lower deck, you two. Keep the smoke visible so he can judge the wind direction. And keep your heads down.’

  Martin watched as VT guided the huge helicopter down onto what seemed an impossibly small space. It took three attempts, but finally Jack made a throat-cutting gesture and VT shut down the engine. Faith and Martin clambered back up to the top deck.

  ‘This is why we left the crew locked up,’ Jack said. ‘We want to get the gold off and stowed before the sun comes up. And then we need to lose the chopper.’

  VT rolled back the tarp from the Huey’s cargo and handed Martin a black garbage bag. ‘Surprise!’ he said. ‘There’s a couple more in here.’ It was the cash from the bank.

  Martin and Faith were stunned. ‘But I thought it went up with the van?’ Faith said.

  Martin plunged his hand into the bag and pulled out a fistful of notes. ‘Apparently not!’

  VT laughed and pulled out the other two bags and tossed them to Martin.

  ‘VT found them when he gave the van a quick once-over when you arrived.’ Jack explained. ‘Not that we don’t trust old school chums who drop in, but you can probably see now that paranoia sometimes has its place. Piss-weak hiding spot. Albris was a lot better with that fucking bomb.’

  It took almost four hours to shift the gold to a deck locker, which had originally held two inflatable pontoons, intended to be attached to a helicopter’s landing skids to make the aircraft amphibious. VT decided he could jury-rig them to the Huey, to allow him to put it down on the water so they could ditch it. A couple of well-aimed shots into the pontoons would deflate them, and the helicopter would sink without a trace.