Burning at the Boss (A Johnny Ravine Mystery)

by Martin Roth

  “I’ll decide what happens,” said Grapper. “Drive to Yarra Boss, then take the Marysville road north-east. After about one-and-a-half miles you’ll come to a school. Stop right outside and wait. Be there in thirty minutes.” He rang off.

  “Thirty minutes,” I exclaimed. “Yarra Boss is twenty or twenty-five minutes. Come on.”

  We ran out to Miriam’s car.

  “You won’t really shoot, will you?” said Miriam, as we drove. “I don’t want shooting. This is Australia. You’ll go to prison.”

  You had a baby and the happiest time of your life with a gunrunner, I wanted to say to her. What’s with the sudden abhorrence of weapons? “You want Jonah back,” I said.

  “I must have him back. But you can’t shoot Grapper.”

  “He murdered your father. Almost certainly. And kidnapped your son.”

  “I don’t like shooting. I’m sure I can talk with him. What if you hit Jonah by mistake?”

  “I’ve had more experience than you can imagine. I’m an excellent shot. I won’t shoot unless I have a clear target. And I won’t miss. I’ve only got six bullets. I’m not going to waste them.”

  “If he knows you have a gun that’ll be the end. He won’t contact us again.”

  “I won’t miss.”

  “But just shoot him in the leg or something. I don’t want you arrested for murder.”

  “I’m not going to kill him.”

  “But he has a gun too.”

  “Don’t worry. He won’t know about my gun until it’s too late.”

  “But let me talk to him first.”

  “Sure.”

  But the fact was that right now I’d have liked little more than to put a bullet through Grapper’s heart or his brains. Or, preferably, both.

  I now hated him.

  This was the man who was once my hero, when he delivered the weapons that possibly changed the course of our freedom struggle.

  I had even found something to admire in him when Miriam told me of her involvement with him and how he had helped liberate her from her domineering father. Sure, I was also jealous, but at least she’d made him sound romantic and dashing.

  But meeting him the previous day had somehow filled me with loathing. This fat, sweating, elderly man was a murderer and a kidnapper. He belonged in an Australian jail and once I rescued Jonah I would be happy to ensure that that was where he went.

  I was angry too at Miriam. I knew that behind the disciplined school teacher exterior she could be a naïve and idealistic dreamer—it was a vulnerability that brought out my protective instincts, and had been part of her attraction to me—but what on earth had possessed her to fall for this evil, callous killer?

  And I had another reason for hating him. This man had unveiled my weaknesses and insecurities. I had been playing the tough guy in order to impress Miriam. Unsure of what else to do, I had gone into default mode—act obstinate, give nothing away, refuse outside help, insist on doing it all myself.

  I had acted tough. But Grapper had acted tougher. And in doing so he had exposed me as inadequate.

  As we drove out of Yarra Boss the smoke seemed to be getting thicker. Then I heard sirens behind me and in the rear view mirror saw two speeding fire engines. I had no choice but to stop on the side of the road and wait for them to pass.

  When I began moving again I found myself in a slow line of cars crawling along the narrow road. We seemed to be getting slower. And then we had to stop.

  “No, no, no,” cried Miriam. “This can’t be happening. Why now? Is there another route?”

  “I don’t think so. We’re meeting him on this road.”

  “I can’t believe it. We’re finished. That’s the end. There’s no way we’ll get there on time.”

  I looked. Traffic was flowing normally in the other direction. “My guess is that the road is partially blocked further down. Maybe the police are stopping us to let through the cars on the other side. It could be our turn soon.”

  Sure enough, after a few minutes our line started moving, a slow procession that took us past a couple of fire engines that were parked on the road. Away in the distance were more fire engines, and firefighters were hosing down a tall, leaping fire in a grove of trees.

  “We’re lucky it’s so far away from the road,” I commented. “Otherwise they’d have closed it down to all traffic.”

  Soon we were at full speed, but nevertheless we arrived ten minutes late at the school. As with our previous meeting place, we were near a hill offering a wide view.

  We waited. Nothing.

  “That’s it,” despaired Miriam. “Finished. What will happen to Jonah?”

  “Let’s wait. I’ll bet he’s here somewhere, watching us. He might even have seen fire engines and the fire. In fact, if we were with the police we would have been on time, for sure. He’s a professional. He’ll know that.”

  And yes, after a couple of minutes the phone rang.

  “We got stuck behind fire engines,” I said immediately. “There’s a fire nearby. You can see that.”

  There was a long silence. Then: “Get out of the car and walk straight ahead, along the road for one hundred yards towards the hill. On the left you’ll see a gap in the fence by a road sign. Walk up the hill to the trees.”

  It was the same, familiar guttural voice, but one thing was clear. He was tired.

  We followed instructions and came to the trees.

  Miriam spotted them first. “Jonah,” she cried.

  I looked. Grapper seemed to be crouching, again half-concealed by a tree. In front of him stood Jonah. Grapper had one hand clasping Jonah to him. The other hand bore a gun.

  “Jonah,” shouted Miriam again.

  I stared at them. As best as I could discern, the boy appeared to be in good condition.

  “Don’t move any nearer,” warned Grapper. “Now sit down.”

  “I’m all right, Mummy,” shouted Jonah.

  We were just five yards away. The gun was in my pocket. I could have it out and firing in a second. But Grapper’s body was mostly concealed by either the tree or Jonah.

  “I’ve got some money,” said Miriam.

  She pulled a thick envelope from her pocket. I looked in horror. What was she doing?

  Grapper watched her. “Throw it towards me.”

  She tossed the envelope. It landed near Jonah’s feet.

  “How much is there?”

  “It’s about twenty-five thousand dollars. It’s all I could get at short notice.”

  “What are talking about? You know that your father owes…”

  “Grapper. That’s from my savings. It’s all I could get in a day. I can get more. I promise. The bank said it takes a few days. Just give me back Jonah.”

  “Your father owes me half a million. That’s what I need.” He paused, and seemed to be thinking. “Or at least two hundred thousand. To keep them happy for a while. Now go away.”

  “Grapper, please.” Miriam was in tears. “I must have Jonah. I’ll get more money. I’m arranging a mortgage on my house. But the bank says it takes…”

  “Go away,” said Grapper, his teeth clenched. “Quick. Go back to your car. Before I shoot.”

  It was clear that I would have no chance to use my weapon. I stood slowly and took Miriam’s hand. We backed out from the trees.

  Suddenly, as we turned, Jonah cried out: “I’ll be all right, Mummy. Don’t worry.”

  And then Grapper also spoke again: “He’s a good kid. You’ve done a good job.”

  We walked slowly down the hill. Miriam was crying, but I didn’t care. I was angry.

  “What was that about?” I shouted at her. “Bringing money? The idea was to keep talking, get nearer to him, give me a chance at a shot.”

  She took away her hand from mine and looked at me. Her face was teary but taut. “I have to get Jonah back. What’s money? I have a few investments. And superannuation. And a house. I went to the bank and took out everything I could. They said they could gi
ve me a personal loan, or even a mortgage. I might get another few hundred thousand. My house has gone up a lot in value. But it would take a few days.”

  “But you truly thought he would give Jonah back today?”

  “Yes, I did. I truly did. And you kept talking about guns. That’s all you seemed to think was important. I didn’t want shooting. But I didn’t think you would listen to me. You seem to think that guns are the answer to everything.”

  “No, I…”

  “Yes. You do.” For an instant she seemed about to stumble on some rough ground. “You’ve told me all about your life as a freedom fighter. But you can’t live like that in Australia. You can’t. You really can’t.”

  I stopped. We were nearing the base of the hill. “What are you talking about? This is what we decided. We discussed it. You can see he was never going to give back Jonah until he got his money. Surely you can see that. Can’t you? He’s desperate. There’s only one way to deal with loathsome creeps like that…”

  “Johnny, you are stupid. Stupid. You spent most of your life in a war shooting people then you come to Australia and you think that’s the normal way to behave.”

  “No, of course I don’t…”

  “And I let you talk me into going along with all this. Didn’t you understand how desperate I was?”

  “Of course I knew that. That’s why…”

  “I’m the one who was really stupid.” And with that outburst she broke down in a flood of tears. “I am just so stupid. Letting you convince me that guns are the best way to solve a problem. And now I don’t know if I’ll see Jonah again. And it’s all my own fault.” Her weeping became louder. “I just want my boy back.”

  She followed as I led her slowly back to the car.

  And through the fog of my anger I couldn’t help wondering if she was right.

  “I don’t think I ever had any kind of chance of a clean shot at him,” I said as we were driving back to her house. “There was never going to be any shooting.”

  Then I added: “When we reach your home we’ll call the police.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Why did I imagine I could solve this mystery unaided? What was I thinking? Was it arrogance? No, I wasn’t that type of person. Over-confidence? Yes, there was that. I thought I could capture the killer. But I could. I’ve done it before. It just didn’t happen this time.

  No, deep down I think I was trying to impress Miriam. I was playing the tough guy. The cowboy in the white hat who kills all the baddies and rescues the damsel in distress. Or was that the dragon slayer?

  In any case, I had messed up. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that tough guy exhibitionism wasn’t even what Miriam appreciated. She might have had a fling in Asia with a wild guy, but that was just a much-delayed teenage rebellion against her father. Really her type of man was the sensitive new age guy, not the macho hero. She’d followed my instructions out of desperation but she was never particularly happy about what I was doing.

  The police officer now in charge of the operation was also not happy. Actually, he was furious.

  “A desperate man with a gun. A kidnapper. Probably a murderer. Beat up and bound and gagged two people.”

  He didn’t beat them up, I wanted to say, but knew that silence was the wiser option.

  “And you thought you could talk sweetly to him and solve everything.” The officer was my age, tall with a slight paunch, and balding hair and wire-rimmed glasses that made him look smart. “If that boy dies you’ll have to answer a lot of questions. And on top of all that you don’t report until now another man who broke in here with a gun and threatened you. Another dangerous man, possibly a killer, running around Melbourne.”

  When he had calmed down I was able to point out that Grapper was an old man and probably very tired. He’d spoken kindly of Jonah. He was the father of the boy. He’d said two hundred thousand dollars might be enough.

  I did not tell him that I had the second man’s gun.

  No more calls came that day, and we spent a third uncomfortable night in the house, this time with myself in the spare bedroom and a woman police officer in the living room on a camp stretcher.

  The call came the next morning. A group of officers listened as Miriam spoke in accordance with police instructions: “I have the money. The two hundred thousand. I got it from the bank. I was able to get a mortgage on my house.”

  He gave directions—a new spot, just out of Yarra Boss. His voice was weary.

  “I must get Jonah,” said Miriam.

  “You’ll get Jonah. Be there in twenty minutes.”

  “But there are fires everywhere,” cried Miriam. That’s what we’d heard on the news. But it was too late. He had rung off.

  “We have to move,” I said.

  The commanding officer with the glasses spoke: “There are several fires around Yarra Boss. Some of the roads are closed. But we’ll get you through. And we’ll infiltrate our people into that area right away. You’ll be there in twenty minutes. Once you arrive there’ll be operatives everywhere.”

  Two unmarked police cars escorted us through the familiar roads, now swirling with smoke. Just five minutes into the journey we turned into a lane that was blocked to normal traffic, and for about half a mile we drove through thick smoke.

  As we neared the rendezvous spot the escort cars peeled away. We arrived unaccompanied and waited for Grapper’s call. When it came he gave instructions—again up a nearby hill to trees. Then he added: “Miriam, you are to come alone. Your boyfriend can wait in the car.”

  Miriam looked at me. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  I wasn’t sure either. “You have to. You’ll be fine.”

  “But I don’t really have money. Why should he hand over Jonah?”

  “As far as we know there are police all around. You’ll be protected.” I just had to take on trust that the police were in control. I couldn’t see any of them. I dearly wished I could be alongside her with my gun.

  I watched as she walked up the hill to the trees. A cloud of grey smoke hung in the air above her. She disappeared from sight. For about thirty seconds it appeared as if time was standing still. Nothing was happening.

  But then I clearly heard gunshots, followed by Miriam screaming.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I raced up to the trees. Over to one side I saw a man—presumably a police officer—lying on the ground, with several people tending to him. Smoke swirled around them.

  I found Miriam sitting alone under one of the trees. Her arm was bleeding.

  “Miriam,” I cried. “What happened?”

  “He saw the police,” she said. “I could see them too. I can’t believe it. They weren’t hidden. They were coming to get him. He just shot wildly.”

  “You’re bleeding...”

  “He started shooting and I felt this pain in my arm. But look…” She swung her arm. “It’s okay. It stings, but I think it must be just grazed. There’s only a little blood.”

  I looked around. A tall policewoman was running through smoke up the hill to us. “We have an officer seriously injured,” she said, pointing back to the man on the ground. “We have to look after him. My information is that the assailant has escaped. There’s some massive back-up on the way. Dogs and a helicopter. We want you down below at the operation center.” It seemed she only then noticed Miriam’s wound. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s just a scratch. I’m okay.”

  “Can you walk down the hill? Do you need help? We have an ambulance and first-aid.”

  “I’m fine. But you must get Grapper. Please. He still has my boy. He ran off that way.” She pointed to the pathway through the trees. “Over there.”

  “Yes, we know. Back-up is coming. Massive back-up. But we have to look after our colleague. I’ll help you down to the road.”

  “I’ll be fine,” said Miriam. “Really.”

  “You need someone to help you down.”

  “John
ny will help me.”

  The officer glanced at me, then looked back at her wounded colleague. “Okay. But take care. I want you down as quickly as possible. And don’t worry about your boy. We’ll soon have this place surrounded.”

  As soon as the woman was out of earshot Miriam looked at me with urgency: “He’s run off with Jonah. I want you to get him.”

  Get Grapper? Get Jonah? Kill Grapper? Capture him? I wasn’t sure what she was asking of me.

  “I want Jonah,” she said, as if comprehending my thoughts. “That’s all I care about. I hate that man. I thought I could be reasonable with him. Come on Johnny. You have your gun?”

  I nodded, surprised at her question.

  “They went that way.” She stood and pointed at a track running up through the trees. “Grapper and Jonah. See, I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Johnny, I’m sorry about all the things I said yesterday. You can’t imagine how stressed I’ve been. But you must get Jonah. Quickly. Before all the police reinforcements arrive. I don’t trust them at all. They don’t seem to know what they’re doing. And they’re just going to come in with all guns blazing now that Grapper’s shot one of their men.”

  Through rolling smoke I could see that a stretcher had arrived and two men and two women were struggling down the hill with their fallen colleague.

  “Come on,” said Miriam, starting up the track. “They ran up here. Though they weren’t running. He had a bad limp. He looked as if even walking was difficult.” She led me up a track that ran deeper into the trees. And then abruptly we found ourselves at the hill summit, looking down on a steep and heavily forested slope. The track now coursed downwards.

  We continued walking, and it was after about one hundred yards that suddenly the trees seemed to open up. Through the smoky haze a grand, sweeping vista of forest and river appeared before us. We could also make out segments of a zigzag track leading down to what seemed to be the bottom of a valley.

  It was then that I spotted movement way below us. “Look.” I pointed downwards. A couple of figures were moving quite slowly down the track.

  Miriam peered down. “It’s them. I’m sure it’s them.” It was just a fleeting glimpse, for as she spoke they moved under trees and were gone from our view. “Come on.”