‘I think you’ve done it again, Les,’ he smiled. ‘That coffee smells sensational.’
‘Yeah, I think it’ll be okay,’ said Les. He put the plunger on the table next to the cups and got the tin of Carnation Milk from the fridge. ‘I just saw the two Russians out the front. Boris and Igor.’
‘You did?’ said the major, sitting down.
‘Yeah.’ Les sat down too. ‘I think they just come back from the beach. Boris was carrying his fishing rod.’
An odd smile slipped across The Gecko’s face. ‘What did they have to say?’
Norton shrugged. ‘I asked Boris how the fishing went. And he said, “You should have seen the vun that got avay.”’
Major Lewis started to laugh; though it seemed to be at something other than Norton taking off the big Russian’s accent. ‘“The vun that got avay,” eh. Boris has certainly got a sense of humour.’
‘Yeah. That’s vot I thought.’ Les poured two cups of coffee. ‘It’s funny, though, his mate Igor gave me a real dirty look as they went in the door.’
‘Did he now?’ The major’s smile seemed to disappear. ‘That’s interesting. That is interesting.’
They added the milk and sugar and began sipping away, enjoying their choice coffee. After being in the water so long, then getting cleaned up, the major especially seemed to be enjoying his. Les felt a bit of a wimp in a way, because the whole time they were on the beach he didn’t even get his feet wet, let alone go for a swim.
‘Well, Les,’ said the major. ‘It won’t be all that long now and I’ll be out of your hair.’
‘You haven’t been in my hair, Garrick,’ replied Norton. ‘I’m used to this sort of thing, hanging around with Price and Eddie. It sort of comes with the territory. No, to be honest, I’ve learnt a couple of things actually. And I imagine I’ll learn some more tomorrow night.’
The major smiled and sipped his coffee. ‘Les, if at times I seem a bit moody or secretive, don’t let it bother you. It’s just that I’ve had some things on my mind.’
‘That’s all right, Garrick. Shit! I imagine you would have.’
‘Eddie sent me up some photos. But that old handball court’s turned out to be a bit trickier than I thought.’
Les looked evenly at the major from across his coffee. ‘In what way?’
‘Well, it’s all solid concrete underneath, but the building around it’s a bloody mess. If I don’t use enough explosive, I won’t shift the substructure. Too much and I’m likely to bring the whole bloody lot down — including that caretaker’s flat and whoever’s in it.’
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Les. ‘That’ll be nice.’
‘Yeah, but I think it’s all sweet. In fact, that Ackerley left his word processor in his room, which has come in very handy. I’ve been mucking around on that, and it’s all looking okay.’
‘That’s good.’
‘The other thing, Les. I probably sounded a bit facetious when we were walking back from the beach and I was going on about fishing without bait or whatever.’
‘Yeah, I was wondering about that,’ said Les.
‘Well, when I went diving this afternoon, I wanted to check out the baths. But I also had a feeling those two Russians might be down there, so I wanted to have a sneak look at them also.’
‘Go on.’
‘They’re up to something, Les. I watched them head down the beach earlier. And a minute or so later, two young blokes from the block of units opposite followed them.’
‘ASIO?’
‘ASIO. CIA. FBI. All those college kids stick out like dogs’ knackers. They’re tailing them for some reason. Boris was dangling a line near the baths all right. But when I dived down, he had no hook on his line. He was just down there killing time.’
‘He could have been doing the same thing when I saw him down there yesterday,’ agreed Les.
‘I couldn’t see his mate Igor. But I’m sure I glimpsed him lurking around down near the baths yesterday. Did your friend Susie say something about them just moving in here?’
‘Yeah, some old couple moved out for a while. And they moved in.’
The major gave Norton a mirthless smile. ‘That’s how they do it, Les. They find a couple of Russians living here. Make them an offer, and if they don’t like it, threaten to shoot all their family back in Russia.’
Norton looked at the major for a moment. ‘What do you think they’re up to?’
‘I don’t know. That old bloke reckons they’re KGB. They could be the Russian Mafia. But, at a guess, I’d say they’re expecting a drug shipment.’
‘Fair dinkum?’
The major nodded. ‘That, or they’re here to assassinate someone. Someone who probably goes fishing off those rocks near the baths. That’s how they’ve picked up the two spooks.’
‘Nothing to do with us?’
The Gecko shook his head adamantly. ‘No. They’re here doing their own thing, and by an unlucky coincidence, so are we.’ A devilish little smile flickered across the major’s face. ‘They’ll get a nice surprise on Saturday, when they go fishing and the back of the baths are gone.’
Les had to smile also. ‘Yeah, I imagine they will.’
The Gecko eased back in his seat. ‘So, that’s why you might think I had the shits with you or something, Les. It’s just that I came here to do one job, which could be a bit trickier than I thought, and I find this other rattle going on. Let’s just say, it’s given me food for thought, Les.’
‘That’s quite okay, Garrick.’ Les was adamant too. ‘I realise what’s going on. And you just go right ahead and do what you have to do. Don’t worry about me in the least.’ Les smiled and give the major a wink. ‘It’s fun having you around, mate.’ Which was true. Les did like Major Lewis. And now his openness and honesty about what was going on, and his consideration of Norton’s feelings, made Les warm up to him even more.
‘Well, that’s good, Les,’ smiled the major. ‘If you behave yourself, I might even take you up those stairs again tomorrow — twenty times.’ The major chuckled slightly at the dumbfounded look on Norton’s face and poured himself another cup of coffee. ‘So tell us a bit more about your trip to Hawaii, Les. What happened to that bloke you live with again? He got blown up in a volcano?’
Norton laughed and poured himself another cup of coffee also. ‘He almost bloody did.’
They chatted away about different things that had happened to them in life. Garrick told Les a few stories of what he and Eddie got up to in Vietnam. Les told the major a bit about America and the time he and Eddie buried the painter and docker under the airport. The conversation was good with quite a few laughs thrown in and, despite daylight saving, it was soon dark and they both had coffee coming out their ears.
‘I’m not a real big eater, Les,’ said the major. ‘But you know what I feel like now? A nice bowl of soup.’
‘How about some matzo ball soup back over at the Hakoah Club?’ suggested Norton.
‘Perfect,’ said The Gecko.
‘You want to go now?’
‘Okay, why not.’
Five minutes later they were out the front and about fifteen minutes after that, Les had signed his guest in and they were seated with their food in one of the booths that run adjacent to the back of the salad bar. Les decided he might just have soup too, plus some salads, bread rolls and mineral water. They didn’t talk a great deal while they ate. Garrick seemed to like checking out the other punters and so did Les. It was the usual crowd — battling or well-to-do Jewish people, some with their children, enjoying the food, enjoying the company and talking their heads off while they did. Les was attacking his bowl of Waldorf salad when he noticed The Gecko intently watching two solid men walking past their table. Les only made out their backs, but the major turned around and when he turned back he seemed to think for a moment before he started eating again. When they finished their meal and the mineral waters, Les had a quick glance at his watch.
‘Well, how was that, Major, sir? H
as your batman done it again?’
‘Private Norton. You would be welcome in my company any day.’
‘Why thank you, Major.’ Les snapped the major his idea of a salute and got a zingy, crisp professional one in return. ‘So what would you like to do now, Garrick?’
‘Go back to the flat for a while, while I sort a few things out. Then I wouldn’t mind having another drink at Redwoods. I imagine it would be all right.’
‘Why wouldn’t it?’ said Les. ‘We’re the heroes of the day.’
They got up to leave and, as Les was tucking the back of his T-shirt in, he noticed The Gecko turn again and look behind them for a few moments. Next thing, they were back at the flat and the major went straight into his room. Les figured he had enough tapes done for the moment, so he switched on the TV. He probably wouldn’t get any taping done tomorrow, but he’d catch up on Saturday and Sunday before Susie got back — if he wasn’t blown to pieces or in gaol by then. Les was halfway through a re-run of ‘NYPD Blue’, when The Gecko came out of his room holding the Telegraph Mirror with a big, happy smile on his face. He stood near the TV and looked down at Norton sitting on the lounge.
‘Les,’ he said slowly, ‘you like your music, don’t you?’
‘Hang on.’ Les hit the mute button on the remote. ‘What was that again, Garrick?’
‘You like your music, Les.’
Norton shrugged. ‘Sure I do. Not that baby-boomer shit they play on the radio stations, but tracks I’ve never heard. Susie’s got some great stuff there. That’s the reason I’ve been going for it. Why?’
‘You know, Les, I’m a bit miffed.’ The major gave Les his little-Gecko-lost look. ‘All the time I’ve been here, and you’ve never asked me once what sort of music I like.’
‘Shit! You’re right. I haven’t. Sorry, Major. It’s just that I was all wrapped up in what I was doing — I never thought . . . Okay, so what sort of music do you like, Major?’
‘Guess?’
Norton had to think for a moment. Vietnam Veteran. Tour Of Duty. Apocalypse Now. ‘The Doors’?
‘The Beatles.’
‘The Beatles?’
‘Yeah, I got every one of their albums and CDs. They remind me of different times in my life. What about you, Les? Do you like The Beatles?’
‘Me?’ Les slipped into an off-key burst of ‘I... should’ve known better with a girl like you. That I would love everything that you do. Oooh I need your love babe. Guess you know it’s true. The long and winding road. Shit, Major! would you like another quick medley?’
‘So you like The Beatles, Les?’
‘Yeah, I got a few of their CDs. The early ones mainly. Plus Sergeant Pepper’s.’
‘Well, look at this, Les.’ The major showed Les the Telegraph Mirror where he had it opened at the Entertainment Guide. ‘Appearing tonight at the Cock ’n’ Bull in Bondi Junction — The Beatnix. I saw them on ‘The Money And The Gun’ doing ‘Stairway To Heaven’. And they’re sensaish.’
‘Yeah, I’ve seen them down The Woolloomooloo Hotel a couple of times. They’re not bad.’
The major was almost pleading with Norton. ‘Les, you’ve got to take me up there. Come on, you’re supposed to be looking after me, and I’ve been watching the money Price gave you — there’s enough left there for the cab fare and a few drinks. Come on, Les. Willya, willya? G’wan. Please, please.’
Norton thought for a moment and tried hard not to smile. ‘All right, Major. Rather than have you put a choker hold on me and wreck my good Banana Republic T-shirt, I’ll take you.’
The Gecko slapped Les lightly on the leg with the paper. ‘I’ll see you back out here in half an hour.’ He returned to his room and closed the door.
Well, how about that, Les chuckled to himself. The galloping major’s got Beatlemania. Will I take him up there? Hah! I’d look pretty funny trying to keep those headphones on with a broken neck.
Les watched TV for a while longer, then, leaving the TV on, he had a shave in Susie’s en suite and changed into a pair of jeans and a maroon striped, button-down-collar shirt. When he came back out, the major was standing in front of the TV also wearing jeans plus a grey-check button-down-collar shirt. With his brown hair swept loosely across his forehead, he looked good and he was all smiles.
‘So how do we get there?’ he asked.
‘Walk down to Six Ways and get a cab,’ answered Les.
‘Well, come on, Ringo. Let’s go.’
‘Okay. Joost give me time to fix noombers, John.’
Les tapped in the security code and they strolled out the front for the short walk down to Six Ways. Five minutes later they were in a taxi and about ten minutes after that they got out at the lights on the comer of Bronte Road and Ebley Street in Bondi Junction. The major was rubbing his hands together and Norton could hear the band finishing some song as they crossed Bronte Road. Les pushed open the glass doors out front of the hotel, paid the owner waiting on the till near the end of the bar, then after getting stamped by the bouncer, they stepped inside just as The Beatnix kicked into ‘Honey Don’t’. The band was up on stage at the opposite end of the bar, done up in their grey suits with no lapels, going for it and sounding more like The Beatles than The Beatles. The drummer, who was belting out the words as well as the beat, sounded exactly like Ringo Starr; the same Liverpool accent, the same nasally, monotone voice. Norton glanced at the major and it looked like his eyes were starting to glaze over.
‘Les,’ he grinned, gesturing with his arms, ‘what can I say? They’re sensational.’
Norton smiled back. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Jim Beam and soda. Plenty of ice. Thanks, mate.’
Les left the major near a table beneath the bank of TV sets above that end of the bar and went over and placed his order with the dark-haired barmaid. While he was waiting he had a bit of a look around. It was quite a reasonable crowd for a Thursday night, mostly wearing T-shirts and jeans or dressed very casually. There were quite a few girls standing around on their own, jigging along to the music. Some of them were good sorts, but most were pretty plain and definitely none of them were starving. Les returned with the drinks to find the major doing a bit of Chubby Checker to ‘Twist And Shout’. Norton gave him his drink and joined in a little with the major and the other punters boogieing around him. The major threw his Jim Beam down fairly smartly, so Les went to the bar for another two and came back just as The Beatnix slipped into ‘Eight Days A week’. It was a good singalong — the band had the punters going and, with a couple of Bourbons under his belt, Norton was glad now they’d came up. The Beatnix finished that song then slipped into ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’.
‘I might go down a bit closer,’ said The Gecko.
‘Okay,’ replied Les. ‘I’ll wait up here under the TV sets.’
With his drink in one hand, the major twisted and shouted his way through the crowd, disappearing somewhere near the speakers. Yeah, go for it, Garrick, Les smiled to himself, happy just to stand up the back and listen to all the old Beatles songs and happy that he’d managed to show the major a good time again. Les had a few more drinks while the band played what seemed like an endless variety of songs before some of the lights came back on and they took a break, saying they’d be back soon with the second half of the show. Les got another bourbon and waited back under the bank of TV screens for the major.
Almost fifteen minutes went by and he didn’t return, so, feeling a little concerned, Les decided to go and look for him. He couldn’t see him in the crowd and he wasn’t near the speakers. Then Les spotted him between the end of the bar and the pinball machine against the wall and a slight shudder went through Norton’s body. The major wasn’t in a fight or an argument or trying to kill anybody. It was worse. He was chatting up two girls — a blonde and a brunette — and doing pretty good; he was cracking jokes and the girls were laughing. The blonde was hanging off his arm and didn’t look too bad. But her girlfriend should have been out biting a postman or in a bac
kyard somewhere, digging up someone else’s old bones. And they were both pissed.
The major’s girl was around thirty, tall and gangly with no tits, frizzy blonde hair and an acne-scarred face heavily covered with make-up. Two clumps of red plastic hung from her ears and she’d squeezed her skinny behind into a pair of white jeans, matching white boots, a red T-shirt and a white jacket. Her girlfriend wasn’t as tall but she was four times as heavy with dark hair, spiky on top and long at the sides over a long, dark face and long, dark lips. Despite another thick coating of make-up, a visible moustache covered her top lip. There was a mole on her chin and her eyebrows met in the middle. Her outfit was a pair of baggy black jeans with white stitching, a black T-shirt and a blue collarless top with four big, white buttons down the front. Standing in the flickering light of the pinball machine, she somehow reminded Les of a Klingon. The major caught Norton’s eye and happily gestured with his drink.
‘Les. There you are. Come over and meet the girls.’ Norton walked over and the major introduced the blonde first. ‘Les, this is Doreen, and this is Coral.’
Norton did his best to smile and make eye contact. ‘Hello, girls,’ he said, ‘nice to meet you.’
‘Hi, Les,’ they seemed to chorus.
‘Doreen was just saying to me,’ said the major, ‘she said, “Frank, you’re one of the nicest blokes I ever met.” Didn’t you, Doreen?’
The blonde nodded enthusiastically and smiled at Norton. ‘I did, too. He’s lovely,’ she said, and cuddled up closer to The Gecko.
Norton understood. ‘Well, that’s nice, Frank,’ he said. ‘I’m real glad for you.’
The major smiled his Gecko smile at Les, pleased that Norton had picked up his message. Then, before Les could get a chance to put his foot in things, he started tap-dancing away with some conversational spiel, managing to give Les a quick briefing of the situation at the same time. Both girls worked as typists for the same oil company at Botany and both lived in the same flat at Coogee. They originally came from Lithgow and had been living in Sydney for two years. ‘Frank’ had told them he was the Town Clerk at Ballina, down for a conference, and he was going back tomorrow. When the ball landed in Norton’s court, Frank returned it for him, saying Les was a truckdriver for Ballina Council. He said that Les was his driver and that he was going back to Ballina the next day also. They were both staying at Les’s sister’s place in Bondi. Whatever it was The Gecko told them, it went over as smooth as custard, as they slurped happily away on the second round of Bacardis the major had bought them. Doreen was all over The Gecko like a cheap suit and, with Norton trying to be nice just for the major’s sake, Coral was giving Norton a few very heavy once-up-and-downs as she started inching up a bit closer to him.
The Day of the Gecko Page 13