The Reward ch-21

by Peter Corris

Instructions? Who from?

  From whom? From Mrs Beckett, naturally. He hung up.

  Trouble at the ranch, I thought. Mrs Beckett now, not Gabriella. I wandered around the house in track pants, T-shirt and sneakers for a few minutes mulling this over. It had rained during the night and I went out onto the balcony off my bedroom to see if some fresh-washed air would help the thinking process. My thinking changed course abruptly when I saw the red 4WD with the silver mudflaps turn into the lane that runs off my. street. I knew from my years of walking around the area that you could get a clear view of the back and front of my house from a point along that lane. I also knew where Id seen that vehicle, or one like it, beforein Wollstonecraft, being exited by a man with an aluminium baseball bat in his hand.

  I took my. 38 Smith amp; Wesson from its holster in the hall cupboard, checked it over and wrapped it in a plastic shopping bag so that I could carry it in my hand, ready to fire, but not alarm the neighbours. I went out the back door, hunched down behind my neighbours overgrown rubber tree and kicked out three palings in the fence. I went through the gap and across his yard. I couldnt be seen from the high point of the lane there, and the neighbours back gate was never locked. I went through it and was now in a position to work through the streets and come out above where the Pajero would be parked if watching my place was his game.

  It was there, bullbars, silver mudflaps and all. The driver was standing in front of the vehicle, shading his eyes and looking down towards my house. I had no doubt it was the same guysame height, same compact build. I hugged the fence, stayed in the shadows and came up behind him, dead quiet in sneakers on the bitumen. When I got closer I could see that his jaw was in constant movement as he chewed. I was beside the Pajero now and sneaked a glance inside. Cigarettes, a lighter and a mobile phone on the seat, no baseball bat. I was almost disappointed. I reached in, took the lighter and lobbed it over his head.

  He froze just long enough as it landed and took just long enough turning for me to get around the hood of the car and slam the barrel of the. 38 onto the bridge of his nose. He screamed. The bone gave and the front sight dug into his cheek just below his eye. Blood flowed from the nose and the cheek and he threw his hands up to his face. The chewing gum flew from his mouth. I backed off a step, hoping thered be some fight in him. After all, he wasnt to know that what Id hit him with was a gun. He recovered quickly and came at me, but his eyes were full of tears and he had no judgment of distance. I let him get within punching reach before I stepped aside and hit him again, this time catching him along the side of the jaw. The skin split along the bone. I kicked his left knee inwards and he went down, banging his battered head against the side of the car.

  I took the plastic from the gun, crouched down next to him and put the barrel in the hollow just below his prominent Adams apple. His face was a mask of blood. Hed bitten his tongue and blood was seeping from his mouth along with the scent of Juicy Fruit.

  Where is she? I said.

  Youve taken my fucking eye out.

  No, its all right. A couple of stitches and youll be good as new. Same as me with my ear. Where is she?

  Who?

  Dont be brave, mate. Dont be brave.

  You wouldnt shoot me.

  Right. I wouldnt, seeing as how Ive got you down like this. Im not licensed to carry the gun at the moment and I wouldnt want to get in that sort of trouble. But Id be happy to break your arm.

  Bullshit.

  Its easier to do than youd think, especially if youre quick. I was crouched and balanced, he was sprawled and had no leverage. I dropped the gun so that it landed heavily in his crotch. He yelped. I picked up his limp left arm and snapped it across my knee midway between the wrist and elbow. He opened his mouth to yell and I filled it with the blood-streaked plastic carry bag. I held it there until he was gasping for breath.

  Now Ill do the other one if you like, whichd be worse because its your right. But I dont want to, so where is she?

  I retrieved the gun and took the bag away. He gulped in air and babbled. I dont know. Swear I dont know. Swear I dont know. I phone her. Just phone. I just phone…

  OK. On the mobile?

  He nodded and blood ran freely from his nose. He sniffed it up and started to gag. I found a couple of crumped tissues in my pocket and gave them to him. Stay here, I said.

  I got the mobile and the cigarettes from the car, picked up the lighter and crouched down again. Whats your name?

  Bruce, Bruce

  Brucell do. Have you called her recently, Bruce?

  Just now.

  Good. I put the cigarettes and lighter down within reach of his good arm and hit the redial button on the phone. It rang briefly and she answered.

  Yes? she said.

  This is Cliff, Claudia. Ive just had a meeting with Bruce and hes not feeling too well. If you were planning to bring him along tonight I think youd better get someone else.

  I wasnt. Not necessary.

  Well, you know where he is. Id suggest you phone for an ambulance. I dont think hes up to driving just now.

  I hung up. It was good to do it myself for a change.

  There was blood on my clothes and shoes. I put the gun back in the cupboard, stripped off and showered. The bruises on my ribs were fading and the sutures in my ear were on the way to dissolving. I could wash my hair without having to be too gentle about the side of my head. Id hurt men worse than Id hurt Bruce in my time and been hurt worse myself. I didnt feel anything in particular about it. Hed go on doing what he did and Id do the same, there was nothing more to it.

  I rang Maxs office. He was out but Penny was in. I told her about the conversations with Cavendish and Mrs Horsfield.

  So were set? Penny said.

  Looks like it.

  Its all a bit weird, isnt it? Perhaps we should have some back-up.

  I told her about the meeting with Bruce, omitting some of the details, and Claudias assurance that she wouldnt have any support troops.

  You believe her?

  Yes.

  Why?

  God knows, I just do. Wheres Max?

  Do you mean, howre things between us or where is he?

  I laughed. Both.

  Things are fine. Hes out checking up on Sean Beckett. Apparently he hasnt been seen around his usual haunts for the past few days. Max wants to keep tabs on him.

  Good idea. Well, youve got the address in Wollstonecraft. I guess we meet there at eight fifty-five or thereabouts and go on in.

  Do you remember the layout? Im thinking of the wheelchair.

  I considered. A few steps. Nothing we cant handle.

  My heroes. Ill see you there, Cliff.

  Which left me with most of a day to fill in. I drove to the office and dealt with the matters that had accumulated over the time Id been concentrating on the Beckett case. It was clear from the answering machine messages and faxes that Id missed out on some business in that time. I chased up some of the people whod faxed and called and made some appointmentswith a dentist who wanted some overdue accounts pursued, with a widow who claimed her late husband had been sighted in Vanuatu and with a gambler who wanted an escort to and from the Sydney Casino in the next week.

  Bob Lowenstein had faxed his account, minutely itemised and ludicrously small. Appropriate really, considering that Id been working for free for the past few days. He attached a note asking to be brought up to date and declaring his willingness to have professional intercourse with Peggy Hawkins if such was needed. As a complimentary service hed run the name Claudia Vardon through every relevant database he could think of and had come up with nothing. I wasnt surprised. I wrote him a cheque and promised to stay in touch.

  I dug out the contract Id signed with Barry White and read through its provisions with growing amusement. With all its handwritten and initialled amendments and corrections, it wasnt worth the match itd take to burn it. Something for the files. I leaned back in my chair and allowed my mind to play on the question of the reward for inform
ation leading to the conviction of those responsible for the death of Ramona Beckett. A million dollars or so. Somehow I didnt feel that the things Id been doing had brought me any closer to it. Maybe I was even further away.

  I drove home keeping an eye out for 4WDs and blondes and brunettes in dark glasses. I showered again and shaved again but I didnt go for the suit. I put on jeans and my old Italian slip-ons, strapped the shoulder holster on over a blue cotton shirt and laid out a light cotton jacket. With the way this case had been going I could be sitting all night in the parlour with my legs crossed or thrashing around in the bushes of Mrs Becketts mansion. I put the. 38 on the kitchen sink and used the jaffle-maker my sister had given me to build a giant construction crammed with all the leftovers in the fridge. I permitted myself one glass of wine and then extended the permit to two.

  That got me through to a bit before seven with still a long time to wait. I deliberated about the gun but decided to take it. I considered ringing Frank Parker and decided not to. The front doorbell rang and I swore, then got cautious. I picked up the gun and held it behind my back as I opened the door after first switching on the outside light.

  The woman who stood there was tall and straight. Her black hair fell to her shoulders and her make-up accentuated the size of her dark eyes, the sharp planes of her face and the wide slash of her mouth. She wore high heels, a short black leather skirt, a white blouse with a leather jerkin over it and a jacket to match.

  Hi, Cliff. Going to invite me in again?

  The voice was Claudia Vardons, but the face and body were those of Ramona Beckett.

  24

  I stood aside and let her in. I forgot about the gun and she saw it as I closed the door.

  You wont need that, she said.

  With you, theres no knowing.

  She walked ahead of me down the hall. Her legs were perfect and her carriage was beautiful. I recalled that Ramona Beckett had been a gymnast and I remembered how this woman had flicked herself up and off the bed in her apartment. I was well on the way to believing her and I forced myself to pull back. Dyed hair or a wig, make-up and clothes can work miracles, they can even change a man into a simulacrum of a woman. She looked around the living room and turned towards me, smiling. Nothing about her was familiar except the black leather shoulder bag. She threw it at the chair with the same result as before.

  A dump, but a nice dump. Could I have a drink, Cliff? I havent had one for days. Ive lost a few pounds, wouldnt you say?

  I put the gun away in the closet and took off the holster. Guns werent relevant here. Youre a bit thinner, I said. Why?

  Gabriella notices such things. She puts store in them. Im nine kilos heavier than when she last saw me, but every little bit helps.

  I poured two glasses which emptied the bottle. Wed have to go on to Scotch if there was to be any more drinking. The experience was very peculiar. I didnt know whether I was dealing with the woman Id made love to seventeen years ago in a Potts Point flat, or another woman whod slept with me right here just a few days before. She wanted me to believe it was both, but shed have to prove it. She was sitting down now, showing flawless knees, calves and ankles under the short skirt. I handed her the glass, put a blank tape in the stereo set-up and switched it to pick up what was said in the room.

  OK? I said.

  Why not?

  I hit Record and backed away to stand by the window.

  Im Ramona Beckett, she said.

  So you say.

  You doubt it?

  I took a drink, put the glass down, made a frame with my fingers and looked through it. Start with the head, I said brutally. The features are a bit different. Not as sharp. You seem to have perfect teeth. Ramonas werent her best feature.

  She frowned. Youre a bastard. Youre talking about seventeen years and a car accident. That wasnt true what I told you. They had to remodel my nose, mouth and jaw. I always thought they did a good job. She tapped her glass against her white teeth. I gave up smoking twelve years ago. My teeth were yellow by then. Anyway, these have been capped and veneered at great expense.

  I shrugged. Im not convinced.

  I should be able to remember the name of that fancy Italian restaurant you took me to when you were pretending to be Peter McIntyre, who could pick the Liberal candidate for the seat of Bligh, but I cant. We went back to my place in Potts Point and fucked our brains out. I remember that, kind of. Then you got busy and really screwed me, with that videotape switch and all.

  I told that, more or less, to Barry White. You couldve got it from him. Or…

  Or what?

  From Ramona Beckett, if you were involved in her kidnapping.

  Rather than crossing her legs or playing those kinds of games, she leaned forward earnestly in the chair towards me. There was no kidnapping, Cliff. I faked the whole damn thing.

  She told me that she had lost interest in getting into politics after Id turned the tables on her. Shed accumulated a fair bit of money but shed also acquired a cocaine habit and wanted more. She went to Manly and allowed herself to be seen, arranged things just so in her flat, sent a note to her parents house and went to ground.

  Where? I asked.

  Melbourne, where else? No-one in Melbourne cares about whats happening in Sydney and vice versa. I changed my appearance, cut the hair, ditched the leather. Id opened a bank account in a false name and I waited for the money to come in.

  The note was a newspaper cut-out job, right?

  No. It was typed by me on an IBM Selectric thats now at the bottom of the harbour around from Mrs Macquaries Chair.

  Go on.

  I couldnt believe it when the money wasnt paid. I mean I hated them and I knew they hated me, but

  Hold on, do you mean your father and mother or just Sean and Estelle?

  The whole lot of them! My father was a pig! He raped Estelle, thats why his first wife left him. But he had the money to make it too hard for her to do anything about it. He tried it with me but Gabrielle stopped him. Dont think she was protecting meshe was just jealous.

  This is all hard to believe. Joshua Beckett put up a big reward.

  Sure. That made him look good, didnt it? And dont tell me investing it made it any more serious. He was probably just so busy making money in other directions that he forgot to pull the reward money out before he died.

  Proof, I said. Some proof.

  She stood, took off her jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. The sleeves of her silk blouse were loose and caught at the wrists, a style Ramona Beckett had favoured. She took two steps towards me and put out her right hand. I havent got any moles or birthmarks as you very well know, but take hold of my hand.

  Against my better judgment I did.

  Do you remember the first thing you said to me when we met in that restaurant?

  I shook my head. I was still holding her hand.

  You said, Your hands so cold, Ramona. You remarked on it afterwards, too, when I grabbed your cock.

  Impossible to forget. I remembered that her touch was icy. But this womans was many degrees warmer.

  Your hands not cold.

  It was the drugs. I was on so many things.

  She broke the contact and sat down. Still not convinced?

  Go on with the story, I said. I glanced at my watch. Weve got a bit of time. Thats if youre really planning to come to Wollstonecraft.

  Of course Im coming! This is harder than I thought itd be. I get the feeling youve never changed in your whole life. That youve always been this hard, cynical type with just enough of a sense of humour to make you human.

  I finished my wine and thought about the Scotch. Whats that got to do with anything?

  I changed, Cliff. I really did. Holed-up in that dump in St Kilda, I really hit rock bottom. First thing was I got hold of some really bad coke. Id been used to the very best stuff up here and this was dreadful. God knows what it was cut with but it nearly sent me nuts. So, of course, I decided to get off it. Have you ever used coke
, Cliff?

  No.

  Wise man. Dont. And dont let anyone tell you its not addictive. In a pigs eye it isnt. I had the worst time and it wasnt helped by my knowing that no-one in my family thought I was worth

  How much?

  Two hundred grand. Not a hell of a lot. I had that much and more already. God, I suppose I was testing them in the only way I knew how. Hey, Im not asking for sympathy here. Im just trying to be accurate, all right?

  The amount checks out, I said quietly. But you could still have got that from Ramona herself.

  Yes, I suppose so. Well, I guess you wont be convinced until Gabriella gives me the nod.

  You use her first name.

  Always did. Youll see. Are you going to tell me who intercepted the note and thought it was OK for me to go down where I put the typewriter?

  Id felt tension building up in my body from the moment shed arrived. It was partly sexual, of course, she was putting out the kinds of signals Ramona had, but now I was confused because Claudias flags had spelled out pretty much the same message. But it could still all have been a carefully constructed act.

  Is that what this is all about?

  What else? Thats why I came back. Thats why you and I are here like this. I know youve been to see Leo Grogan so youve got an idea of how I started out. I knew from painful experience that you were good at what you did, Cliff. I knew youd be able to dig up the truth if you had a little help.

  You hated me, I said. As soon as I spoke I realised that the statement was an implicit acceptance of her story. I couldnt take it back, but I could watch her reaction closely.

  I dont hate you any more, she said. Wed better go, hadnt we?

  I didnt learn anything from that. She put her empty glass on the nearest flat surface, stood and shrugged back into her jacket. She did it matter-of-factly enough, but that only made the erotic touchesthe rise of her breasts and the athletic flex of her shouldersall the more emphatic. At that moment I didnt care who she was, Ramona, Claudia, Madonna. I just wanted her physically the way an adolescent wants the first girl wholl let him touch her inside her clothes. But I was a long way past adolescence. I hooked my own jacket from the stair post.