Dead Men

by Derek Haines

  ‘Will do Vince.’

  By ten o’clock David had had no luck in finding Steve. No one knew where he was. There was nothing to indicate any problem, but David had a bad feeling in his gut.

  Vince Walsh also had a bad feeling in his gut. If Steve Sharp got a stupid idea in his head to try and lighten his load on himself by opening his mouth too wide, it could be a big problem for Vince. He sat and thought about his options. Vince admonished himself for not coming down on Steve about his liking for drugs. Maybe he’d been wrong about Steve. He thought he was just a recreational user. It seems he may have been a dealer. It explained his regular café visits. It was his drop off or pick up point. ‘What to do?’ he thought. He rang Ted Murphy.

  ‘All done Ted?’

  ‘Yes Vince. I’m even arranging for the floor to be painted. Green,’ Ted answered nervously.

  ‘Great colour choice,’ Vince joked. ‘I’ll talk to you later Ted.’

  ‘Ok Vince.’

  Vince’s immediate thought was to close up As New Spares immediately, but that wasn’t going to achieve anything in the short term. It would take him a few days to sell off the trucks and close things up, so he may as well wait until he knew a little more. He wouldn’t have long to wait. Shortly after he’d hung up the phone to Ted Murphy, Ted had two visitors. Two detectives with a search warrant. Ted was trembling as he watched the two detectives search the files of As New Spares. He was trembling even more an hour later when he was asked to come to the police station to answer a few questions. Into the boot of the police car went three boxes of papers seized by the police. Ted was seated in the back seat, with a police officer.

  It was just after two in the afternoon when Vince’s intercom buzzed. His secretary informed him there were two police officers wishing to see him. Vince took a deep breath.

  ‘Ok, show them in.’

  ‘Good afternoon gentlemen.’

  ‘Good afternoon Mr Walsh. I’m Detective Sergeant Morris, and this is Detective Constable Ryan. We’d like to ask you a few questions about As New Spares.’

  ‘Sure. What’s the problem?’

  ‘You’re a shareholder and director of this company?’

  ‘Yes. That’s correct. I purchased a small share holding from an investment company in Sydney about twelve months ago. I thought it might compliment my car dealership,’ Vince said. Already deflecting the notion that he had any day to day involvement.

  ‘So what’s your involvement with this company? Other than your share holding.’

  ‘Very little. I have a small investment in it, and have that share managed by one of my employees.’

  ‘And who is that person?’

  ‘Steven Sharp. He’s my finance Manager. He liaised with Ted Murphy directly.’

  ‘Have you any knowledge of the company’s operation?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Vince said openly. I like to know what my money’s doing.’ Vince went on to explain his knowledge of As New Spares, being selective in his naming of suppliers and customers who were completely legitimate. He painted a picture of a sensible and simple business. As he spoke he made his decision that Steve and Ted were going to have to wear this mess themselves.

  After an hour of questioning, the detectives thanked Vince for his time and cooperation. Vince thanked them for making him aware of what had been going on in his business. They left with an impression that Steve and probably Ted were trying to profiteer from stolen cars by using As New Spares for their operation. As soon as they’d left, he started on major damage control.

  By late afternoon, David was very concerned. He rang Tony to tell him he hadn’t been able to locate Steve. He’d also tried to call Ted Murphy after visiting him earlier that morning. There was no answer. He drove around there to find it locked up at two o’clock. He told Tony he’d call him as soon as he knew something, but that there was something wrong.

  David drove by Steve’s place after work. No one was home. He tried phoning that evening. Still no answer. David finally had his answer when he was watching the mid evening news on television. Steve was remanded in custody for possession of cocaine. He rang Tony straight away. Neither connected this bad news with As New Spares. They both well knew of Steve’s drug use.

  ‘That’ll be the end of our friend Steve,’ Tony said with regret.

  ‘Yes. It could well be,’ David agreed.

  The news saddened them both.

  The next morning, when David rang Tony, he woke him up with very bad news. It was eight thirty in Sydney, but only six thirty in Perth.

  ‘Yes,’ Tony said blearily.

  ‘Ted Murphy killed himself last night,’ David blurted out.

  ‘Oh Fuck!’ was all Tony could say.

  ‘He shot himself.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Apparently the police visited his office yesterday. He was taken away for questioning, but wasn’t charged with anything. I don’t know much else.’

  ‘Is there any connection with Steve?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it.’

  ‘And Vince? What’s he up to in all this mess?’

  ‘I don’t know Tony. I haven’t spoken to him.’

  ‘Well, keep your ears open mate.’

  ‘Yes, I will. Enjoy your holiday.’

  ‘Dave?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This could be real trouble Dave. Be careful.’

  ‘I will. Talk to you later.’

  David had no idea what he was to do with his day. He was unsure if he even had a job for much longer. It didn’t help his confidence when he opened his internal mail. He found a short memo from Vince cancelling David’s trip to India and Thailand that had been arranged for next week. He felt the recent confidence he had gained draining away from his body. If this job fell away, what would be left of David Holdsworth? He sat doodling on his note pad. He was lost in his thoughts. The pain of the last six months washed over him. The loss of his house he loved so much. He missed the tranquil atmosphere of the sea. The thought that he hadn’t walked along a beach in six months. So much change. So much loss. He was reliant on his job. He had nothing to fall back on now. If he lost his job he would be penniless. What had happened to David Holdsworth? Did he exist any more?

  Tony waited anxiously to hear more news from David. There was nothing he could do in Perth. He enjoyed seeing his family again, but he felt he should be in Sydney. The thought struck him that it must be about time he could ask for his house to be auctioned. He rang his solicitor, Ed Scarli.

  ‘Yes Tony. You can in two days time,’ Ed confirmed after checking Tony’s file.

  ‘Can you arrange that?’

  ‘If you like Tony.’

  ‘Well, I’m stuck in Perth, so if you could.’

  ‘Will do Tony. When will you be back?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Ten days maybe,’

  ‘Well, when you get back, call in and see the agent straight away.’

  ‘Ok Ed. Will do.’

  Tony felt useless in Perth. He decided to head back to Sydney. He rang David as he drove his truck up Greenmount on his way east.

  ‘I’m on my way back mate.’

  ‘When will you arrive?’

  ‘Two days. Try and keep out of trouble ‘til I get back,’ Tony said trying to be light hearted about what was going on.

  ‘Maybe you should be staying there, and I should be high tailing it to Perth.’

  ‘Yes. Maybe. But I’ve got a feeling Vince would like his truck back.’

  ‘I’m sure he would. Ok, see you when you get back.’

  David was glad to hear Tony was on his way. The awful feeling of being totally alone was with him. It was similar to the feeling he’d suffered on the first night his wife had left. A suffering void of loneliness. No one to share a single thought with. No one to say simply that things will be better in the morning. No one to agree that it was a worrying time. With Steven in custody and out of David’s reach, he realised Tony was his only friend in the world. It was
a depressing thought that since his marriage was stolen from him, he’d only managed to make two new friends. One now in prison, and one in a truck over two thousand miles away. Sitting at his desk, still doodling on his note pad, he tried to think of something he could do to take his mind off the host of depressing thoughts fogging his mind. He couldn’t. His concentration went to Ted Murphy. ‘Why on earth would he kill himself?’ He could think of no logical reason. ‘It had to be connected to the police interviewing him,’ David scribbled ‘police’ on his note pad as he thought. He’d heard gossip from one of his office staff that morning, that he’d been told by a friend who worked in the truck tyre business next to As New Spares, that the police had spent an hour or so there, before loading some boxes of files into the police car. They’d taken Ted with them. David assumed from this that Ted was questioned at the warehouse, and later at the police station.

  ‘The police must have been suspicious about something to take action like that,’ he thought, and jotted down ‘suspicion’ in his note pad. ‘Steve had been arrested the afternoon before.’ David’s mind was starting to ponder if there was a connection. He wrote ‘Steve’ as the next item on the list. He then wrote Tony, as he remembered Ted had told him to stay away in Perth. ‘Shit!’ he whispered to himself. ‘Tony was told to stay in Perth before Ted was visited by the police. It must be connected to Steve.’ He then looked at the memo Vince had sent him. It was computer dated and time stamped yesterday at eight fifty am. ‘That must mean Vince knew something was amiss before the police called on Ted Murphy.’ David’s hand was trembling as he wrote down ‘BEFORE’ in large capital letters on his note pad. ‘Did Ted Murphy kill himself, or?’ David let the thought hang as he tore off the top sheet of his note pad and stuffed it into his trouser pocket. A glance at his watch told him it was eleven thirty am. This was too much for one morning. He grabbed his jacket and told his office assistant he’d be out for a few hours. David drove to the Drover’s Dog for a beer or two to settle himself.

  Just as David was downing his first beer, Steven Sharp stood to hear a magistrate remand him in custody. The police outlined the evidence against him in regard to the possession charge. He was remanded to reappear in three weeks. Steve was led away to be transferred to the Silverwater remand centre. He sat in a cell below the court waiting for arrangements to be made for his transfer. As Steve sat waiting, Vince was also busy making arrangements for Steven. There would be a message waiting for Steven Sharp at the Silverwater remand centre. He would be told to keep his mouth firmly shut. If he didn’t his open mouth would be filled with a shotgun and his lovely smile would be blown out through the back of his head.

  Steve sat quietly. Two other men were sitting in the cell with him. They also sat silently. A policeman stood at their cell door, and informed them that the three of them would be sharing a van to Silverwater in about half an hour. ‘You can never get a bloody taxi in Sydney when you need one,’ one of Steve’s cell companions joked to the police officer. ‘You’re not wrong there,’ the officer joked back. Steve smiled at the joke. The silence returned. After five minutes it was broken by one of Steve’s cell mates.

  ‘What are you in for?’

  Steve looked at him before answering. The man who asked him the question was a well dressed man in his mid forties. His olive complexion led Steve to assume he was from southern Europe, but that was all. The man’s piercing green eyes made Steve uneasy.

  ‘Just a little cocaine,’ Steve answered. Then asked, ‘And you?’

  The other man, a slightly built man who looked more like a bank manager, looked over the top of his glasses at Steve and said, ‘Just a little misunderstanding.’

  ‘Isn’t it always the way,’ Steve responded.

  The silence returned. It was broken a few minutes later by the opening of the cell door.

  ‘Your taxi is waiting gentlemen,’ the police officer announced.

  They were led from the cell to a dock where a prison van was parked. Its back door opened in invitation to its three passengers. Steve sat on a bench seat on one side of the van. His two fellow passengers sat opposite him. All sat calm, silent and unsmiling as they heard the door locked and bolted behind them. The van pulled away. It was a slow stop start trip through the centre of the city. Steve could see through the small grill windows of the van that it was taking an age to progress through the heavy traffic of Sydney city. After almost half an hour the van turned on to George Street and was making its way towards Broadway. Steve wished he could’ve had a more scenic route to prison. The rest of the trip would be made down Parramatta Road. Steve remembered how ugly Parramatta Road always looked. Traffic lights every hundred meters made it a slow drive anytime of the day or night.

  Yet again, the van pulled to a halt for traffic lights. The fluttering red, green and white plastic flags strung across the road told Steve that they were in Leichhardt. It was a suburb with a definite Italian flavour. He thought of the great restaurants in the area. It’d be a while before he could dine in one again. As he thought about the restaurants, a sudden loud noise echoed through the van. It was like a large hammer had hit the side of the van. He heard what he thought was a gunshot. Before his brain could calculate what was happening, he heard the rear door being forced open. The two men opposite him rose to their feet. Steve was open mouthed in disbelief. He still hadn’t grasped what was happening.

  ‘Looks like your lucky day if you feel like a brisk walk,’ the man in the spectacles calmly said.

  As the door flew open both men leapt from the van and into a waiting car. Steve was on his feet. He only had a few seconds to make up his mind whether to stay or run. Still totally confused and with his head spinning with the events of only a few seconds, Steve leapt from the van, having no idea of what awaited him, or what he was going to do. The thought that he could be shot, only occurred to him after he was twenty meters away from the van.

  Then he felt a huge rush of adrenalin as he ran as fast as he ever had in his life into the back streets of Leichhardt. Looking over his shoulder he couldn’t see anyone in pursuit. That small piece of good news didn’t stop him running. He could feel the sweat dripping from his face as he used every single ounce of energy he possessed. Fear was welling up in his throat almost choking him as his ears pounded as loudly as his feet pounded the pavement.

  With his energy sapped, Steve needed somewhere to rest. He looked for somewhere to hide. Running into a small lane way, he found himself at the rear of a row of houses. He quickly found one with a lush garden. Using the last remnants of his strength, Steven scaled the fence and hid in an overgrown lantern bush. The loudest sound he could hear was his own heartbeat and his own panting. He expected to hear the sound of sirens. For the moment it was quiet. Now he needed to think. What to do next?

  He had no money, no identification, no car, nothing except the clothes he wore. His first priority was to get away from the immediate area. There was no sign of movement in the house that Steven could see from his vantage point in the back garden. He made his way to a rear window and looked inside. He couldn’t see anyone. Then he moved to the rear of the garage where a small window allowed him to see there was no car. He went to the back door. Using a small garden hand trowel, which had been left in a pot of herbs, he tried to lever the small wooden framed kitchen window near the back door. He was in luck. It was unlocked. His years of house breaking had taught him that wooden windows expand and contract, and on older houses are often difficult to close completely to be locked. Once open, he reached his arm through the window, around to the back of the door, and let himself in.

  Within a few minutes he found a collection of coins in a jar near the telephone. Selecting only the one and two dollar coins, and a few twenty-cent pieces, he soon had more than forty dollars in his pocket. Then to the bedroom. From the wardrobe he selected a few shirts that although a little larger than his own size, would suffice for the time being. Then two pairs of jeans. Looking in the top shelf of the wardrobe, he found
a small carry bag. Steve quickly changed clothes and stuffed his clothes and the rest of the clothes into the bagthen went to the bathroom. He made his selection of necessities. Leaving the way he came in, he made sure to lock the door and close the window.

  As he left the lane way, he turned the corner and noticed a bus about to pull to a stop to collect an elderly woman who was hailing it as it approached. It’s display on the front of the bus clearly announcing its destination as Parramatta Railway Station. He skipped across the road and entered the bus behind the elderly woman. He was agitated as the elderly woman searched her handbag for her bus pass. Outwardly Steve tried to stay as calm as he could. Trying to regain his composure, as the woman finally found her pass.

  ‘I just made it!’ Steve light heartedly said to the driver.

  ‘Where to?’ the driver responded. Not interested in Steve’s attempt at humour.

  ‘Parramatta Station.’

  ‘Two dollars eighty,’ the driver said.

  Steve handed the fare to the driver and took a seat towards the rear of the bus. The forty minute bus trip gave him time to catch his breath. It didn’t slow his heartbeat. He could feel it still racing in his chest.

  ‘What the fuck do I do now?’ he thought to himself as the bus pulled to a halt at the railway station. He headed straight for the rest rooms, and washed his face and hands. A shower would have been preferable, but that would have to wait. Needing a little time to think, he locked himself in a toilet cubicle and sat on the toilet lid to consider his next move. One blessing he calculated and hoped was correct, was that the two men who had been with him must have been into something very heavy to have been able to have a rescue party turn up in broad daylight. The police would be far more interested in them. The gunshot he’d heard, and the fact that no one chased him led him to another guess, that either the driver or guard was shot. The next conclusion was that on top of a possession charge, he would now face an escaping custody charge if he were caught. To top it all off, he knew Vince would be pissed off with the events of the last couple of days. Now, he had to make a simple decision. He couldn’t hide in a railway station toilet forever. So where to next?