Dead Men

by Derek Haines

‘You won’t meet Steve. Nor will I. But I need to drop my truck back at the warehouse. No one’ll notice if I take a detour via Katoomba to drop off a letter and be back in Camden by ten. We’ll ask him to tell us by email what the fuck’s going on. Then we can see what we can do for ourselves, and just maybe our stupid friend Steve,’ Tony explained.

  ‘How will he get the letter?’

  ‘There’s always someone helpful in a tourist centre.’

  David looked at Tony with a look of doubt.

  ‘Does this have any chance of success?’ David asked as he turned on his computer.

  ‘Who knows. At least we might get to find out what’s going on. Then we can decide what to do.’

  ‘And if we do nothing?’

  ‘If we do nothing, we’d upset Steve. Has it occurred to you that now he’s on the run, he might be more dangerous than Vince?’

  ‘Ok, I’m ready, start dictating.’

  ‘Re your email. More info needed. Send again ASAP.

  Need to know who are the Cowboys and who are the Indians before the cavalry can arrive.

  Who shot Liberty Valance?

  What was in the chuck wagons that made the Indians attack?’

  David printed an envelope addressed to Mr S. Sharp. Tony took the letter and started his mail run.

  ‘I’ll give you a call at the office when I get back to As New Spares. You can pick me up from there. And give me a hug when you see me. Anyone who might be watching’ll think I’ve just arrived home,’ Tony laughed as he walked out the door.

  It was five thirty and the sun was just about to rise. All David could do was wait for Tony to return. With tired eyes, he went into his office shortly after eight thirty and waited for Tony’s call.

  Deep Water

  ‘Is that David’s taxi service?’ Tony chuckled when David answered his phone.

  ‘Sure is. Be there in ten minutes Tony. Is everything ok?’

  ‘Yeah, a great trip from Perth. See you soon.’

  ‘Ok Tony.’

  He left his office to pick him up.

  Tony was standing by the office door of As New Spares when David arrived.

  ‘Where’s the truck?’ David asked as he pulled up alongside Tony.

  ‘Inside. I didn’t think Vince’d like it parked in the street.’

  Tony walked to the passenger's side of the car and sat next to David.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ David asked impatiently.

  ‘We’ll find out on your computer I suppose. I found a lovely old biddy who’ll tape the letter on the front door of the office. I told her a little story. Said I was supposed to meet my brother there today, but I’d been called away to work. Told her he didn’t have a phone, and he was on holidays from Brisbane. She seemed to be happy to help.’

  ‘I hope this’s been worth while.’

  ‘Let’s just wait and see huh?’

  ‘So where do you want to go?’

  ‘Why not your office?’ Tony said.

  ‘Ok, we can both watch our jobs disappear,’ David glumly replied.

  Back at the office, Tony rang Vince. He wanted to advise him he was back, and the truck was safe at the store. Vince’s secretary told Tony Vince would be in around eleven thirty. Tony waited with David for Vince’s call.

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Yeah, thanks,’ Tony said and followed David to the small office kitchen.

  ‘How did we get into this bloody mess?’

  ‘Simple, we were desperate,’ Tony answered immediately.

  ‘And we still are.’

  ‘Yes Dave.’

  Both men sat quietly at the kitchen table, sipping their coffees. Lost in their thoughts of what had been. David broke the silence.

  ‘Have you had any news on your house?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s going up for auction. I have to see the agent in the next few days. I hate the thought of my kids losing their home. But what can I do? Starve while they all live in luxury?’

  ‘And your kids. Any joy on getting back in contact with them?’

  ‘There’s a hearing or something like that in a few weeks. Ed Scarli’s been handling it. It’s a bloody shambles,’ Tony said and continued. ‘I know I got pissed off with her and her boyfriend, but I shouldn’t’ve had to fight all this legal shit just to see my kids once a week or so.’

  ‘No, it’s wrong Tony. If you’d killed ‘em both you would’ve had more chance of seeing your kids on prison visits.’

  ‘Not funny Dave. But probably true.’

  ‘Have you heard anything of your wife and kids?’

  ‘No. Nothing. It’s like I don’t exist.’

  ‘The Tony and David of six months ago don’t exist any more Tony.’

  ‘That’s the pitiful truth Dave. Destroyed by women.’

  ‘It sounds bitter and twisted doesn’t it?’

  ‘We are Dave.’

  Colin found Tony and David in the kitchen.

  ‘Phone call Tony.’

  ‘Thanks Col,’ Tony said as he made his way to David’s office.

  ‘Hello, Tony Pilletto.’

  ‘Hello Tony, Vince. How was your trip?’

  ‘Same as always Vince. Long.’

  ‘I thought you were staying for a holiday with your family in Perth,’ Vince asked.

  Tony was careful with his answer.

  ‘Yeah, Ted rang me and said to take a break. I thought it was odd. I tried to ring him the next day, and got no answer. I rang Dave a day later, and he told me the sad news, so I thought I should get back.’

  ‘So when did you get back?’

  ‘About two hours ago. I dropped the truck at the warehouse, and David picked me up. I called you to see what you wanted me to do. With Ted gone, I thought you might need me at As New Spares.’

  ‘It’s all a bit up in the air at the moment Tony. Look, don’t worry. You did the right thing coming back. One thing you could do for me is arrange for the other truck to come back to Sydney. Other than that, just be patient and I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Ok will do Vince. Thanks for calling back.’

  ‘No problem. Bye Tony.’

  Vince’s main concern was to establish who knew what. He was convinced Tony knew nothing of the supply chain of the parts. He liked Tony, and had been convinced he was just an honest hard worker. Tony’s reasoning for driving back from Perth was good enough proof for Vince that Tony was no danger. His decision regarding David had yet to be made. His close friendship with Steve was a concern. How much had Steve told David was the burning question? Vince’s surveillance of Steve had shown that the two were seeing less and less of each other. He would just keep an eye on David for a while. Vince’s very real problem was Steven Sharp. His prime task was to find him. Vince had every contact he knew looking for him. There was a welcoming party for Steven at Silverwater if the police happened to find him first.

  ‘Still got a job?’ David asked when Tony returned to the kitchen.

  ‘Seems so. For the time being anyway. Somehow though, I think I’ll start looking for a new one soon. This one’s a bit too exciting for me.’

  ‘Your wife’ll be pleased. It’d be a good deal for her huh?’ David reminded Tony.

  ‘Thanks mate. You’ve brightened my day with that reminder,’ Tony frowned.

  ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do here. Fancy a steak sandwich and a beer for lunch?’

  ‘Do you think we can leave all this work to Colin?’ Tony joked.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure he can read his book by himself. The other two are busy with a stock take. He can call my mobile if anything happens. Which I doubt. C’mon, let’s get out of here.’

  David and Tony enjoyed a long lunch. They were mildly drunk when they returned to their flat at a little before six. David turned on his computer. They both waited to see if there was an email from Steve. There wasn’t.

  ‘I’ll leave it on for a while,’ David said as he finished filing and deleting what mail had come in. Tony made some sandwiches and coffee. Th
ey both sat down to watch the news at seven. There was no news about Steve or Ted. Their minds relaxed as they watched an evening’s television. At a little after eight thirty they both jumped to their feet as the ding dong of David’s PC announced an email. David opened the file. It was from Steve.

  ‘To: Porthos and Athos

  Subject:

  Cowboys and Indians

  From: Aramis

  The man who shot Liberty Valance wasn’t Liberty Valance.

  The wagons where full of ‘hot’ wagon wheels.

  The Cowboys and the Indians all wear black hats.

  Aramis needs help. Reply to Author. ‘

  ‘Do you make any sense of that?’ Tony asked.

  ‘Yes. We’re Porthos and Athos. With Aramis they were the Three Musketeers. Liberty Valance is Ted, so Steve is saying he didn’t shoot himself. Hot has to mean stolen.’

  ‘So he’s saying As New dealt in stolen parts?’

  ‘Sounds like it. The black hats is a reference to bad guys,’ David concluded.

  ‘So everyone is a bloody bad guy. Great!’ Tony exclaimed.

  ‘Does that include us?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I’m not involved in this shit,’ Tony said firmly.

  ‘Ok, keep your hat on. Black or white,’ David half laughed.

  ‘Ok, let’s keep going here,’ Tony said calmly.

  ‘Right, Aramis is Steve, so he still wants help. Reply to Author means he can collect an email from wherever he sent it. So, what now?’ David asked.

  ‘Well, we can assume Ted was murdered. Or even if Steve is wrong about that, Ted must’ve had something bloody frightening facing him to kill himself. I have a bad feeling I’ve been transporting stolen goods around the country. Steve’s telling us that everybody is a bad guy. But who’s he including? And of course he himself is in deep shit,’ Tony ended.

  ‘So, the only bit of news out of that is that As New Spares was dealing in stolen goods.’

  ‘Yes, but that explains some of the mystery here.’

  ‘Hold on. Something just occurred to me. This might be off the wall, but, Vince talked to me about increasing exports from As New only a few days ago. It was the day before Steve got arrested in fact. Shit, the days are starting to run into each other. Yes, it was. He wanted to increase the container shipments considerably. Some thing like four a month to thirty or forty,’ David explained.

  ‘Look, why don’t we see if we can find out a little more from Steve. We can’t meet him. Agreed?’ Tony firmly asked David.

  ‘Yes, agreed.’

  ‘Reply to him. See if we can do something without meeting him. He’ll have to understand. But, I’d love to know a little more about Vince. It’d be nice to be warned to run if we’re really in deep shit here.’

  David hit the reply to author button on his screen and started his reply.

  ‘To: Aramis

  Can help, but only by operating the remote control. Cannot leave the room. What buttons do you want pressed?

  Should Porthos and Athos stay at the Van Gogh exhibition, or join a circus?

  P & A’

  David hit the send button.

  ‘Do you think he’ll understand that?’ Tony asked.

  ‘I hope so, but if he doesn’t at least no one else will. Now, hopefully, he’s waiting for our reply, so we might get an answer soon.’

  In ten minutes the ding dong told them they had their answer.

  ‘To: Porthos and Athos

  Remote control difficult to use. Easier to get up from the couch. Join Aramis with three lovely sisters tomorrow for lunch.

  There’s always work for clowns in a circus. Security at exhibitions is oppressive. Art is not so pretty next to guards with guns. Ask Liberty!

  Aramis. Confirm.’

  ‘What do you think Tony?’

  ‘We need some time. Time to think about this Dave. This’s all getting out of control.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll tell him to wait huh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  David typed a reply.

  ‘To: Aramis

  Pass on sisters for lunch.

  Collect mail same box tomorrow. Will advise lunch arrangements.

  P & A’

  There was no reply after half an hour. David deleted the messages and turned off his computer. Both men sat and thought about what they’d made of Steve’s notes.

  ‘You know, if we did a runner, Vince would twig that we knew something,’ David suggested.

  ‘And from what Steve intimated, it wasn’t all that good an idea to stay.’

  ‘The question is, do we believe Steve Dave? And do we believe Vince either? I have a feeling they’re both excellent liars.’

  ‘So where’re we now?’ David asked as if he was asking himself. He started to answer his own question. ‘Vince is a danger if we stay or leave. Probably more dangerous if we bolted, and at least we’re getting paid for the moment.’

  ‘I think you might be right Dave. Particularly if what Steve says about Ted is true.’

  ‘And if we help Steve we’re in deep shit. If we don’t, he has very little to lose and could get very pissed off. He knows where to find us.’ David summarised.

  ‘It sounds like we have few choices. But the best seems to be stay with Vince and act dumb, and keep away from Steve.’

  ‘I need some sleep,’ David said.

  ‘Good idea,’ Tony agreed.

  Steve was spending the night in a backpacker’s hostel in Sydney. He was angry with David. In his own mind he’d done a lot for David. Steve’s screwed up life had produced a strange understanding of friendship and loyalty. As long as Steven was the number one priority, everything was just fine. It wasn’t even clear in his mind what he wanted David to do for him. It was simply that he felt David and Tony owed him. With few clothes, only a small amount of money, a new lodging to find every night, and the knowledge that he was wanted by the police, and probably even more wanted by Vince, Steve tried to think where the safest place to run was. Airports were out of the question. Interstate trains would be risky. He couldn’t return to his apartment. He had no idea where his car was.

  His current dilemma was of course not his fault. Just bad luck. As had happened before, he hoped his luck would turn to good soon. Lying in the small room that was his home for the night, he decided the further away from Sydney the better. Perth.

  ‘At least I have a few mates there that have balls,’ he thought to himself. ‘Not wimps like David and Tony. They’re bloody useless.’

  His mind wandered back to the mates he had as a teenager. The fun they had. He wanted to find them again.

  ‘Sydney’s been a bloody waste of time,’ he thought. ‘I’ll hitch back to Perth.’

  Within the space of six months Steve had fallen from an honest hard working, polite and caring man with a future, to an inept white collar criminal, and now to something no better than a feral animal. His only future now was one of looking over his shoulder, and facing fear at every corner. His only other future would be prison.

  Steve couldn’t sleep. His mind was racing with the last few days. With fear, with planning. He rose from his bed and put on his new denim jacket. Out of habit he ran his hands through his hair. There was none there. Only stubble. He now wished he hadn’t had his long hair cut off. It’d been long and blonde since he was a teenager. Leaving his room, he just wanted a few drinks, and maybe a woman to help him sleep. As he approached the front door of the hostel, he checked the street outside carefully before leaving. Once satisfied he started his walk to the Rocks for some entertainment. It was eleven forty five. ‘The Basement’ll be a good club to start with,’ he thought to himself as he walked past the Queen Victoria building on George Street. ‘Should only be a twenty minute walk from here.’

  Waiting for traffic to pass, so he could cross Market Street, he was startled by one of the cars. A police car. The officer in the passenger's seat looked directly at Steven. Steve looked away immediately, and turned on
his heels back past the Queen Victoria building. He didn’t dare look back as he thought it’d create attention if the cop was still there. Trying to keep his cool, he made sure he was walking and not running. After about a minute, he couldn’t help himself. He looked over his shoulder. The police car was still there. It hadn’t moved with the traffic. ‘Shit!’ he said to himself. Trying to stay as cool as he could, he continued to walk away from the police car. Almost every second he had to consciously stop himself from looking over his shoulder. The Queen Victoria building took up the whole block back to where Steve was heading to Druitt Street. There was no way other than straight ahead. He had fifty meters further to walk before he could turn off George Street. He felt totally exposed on the long, wide, sparsely populated pavement. His heart leapt into his mouth as he saw another police car draw to a halt in front of him in Druitt Street.

  ‘Ohh fuck!’ he whispered to himself. There was no use in Steve’s mind in thinking this was a coincidence. The doors of the police car in front of him opened. He glanced behind to see the one in Market Street doing the same. Four sets of eyes fixed themselves on Steven. Time for walking coolly had finished. He turned and ran across George Street, darting between taxis and cars. He ran down the median strip as he waited for a small break to dart to the other side of the road. The only place in front of him was the Royal Arcade. He almost dived headlong into the entrance of the arcade and hoped it would lead him through to Pitt Street. He couldn’t hear anyone behind him. As he ran the length of the arcade his confidence started to tell him he was in the clear. Pitt Street was just in front of him. He raced to the opening. Preparing himself to dart to the left with less than ten paces from the opening onto Pitt Street, it was suddenly filled by two large policemen with drawn batons. He spun on heels so quickly he fell on his face and scrambled to his feet to head back from where he had come, and was greeted with the sight of four policemen approaching from George Street.

  ‘Pack it in Steve. It’s all over son,’ one of the policeman yelled at Steve. Steve preferred his odds of two to one instead of four, and turned again and charged the two policemen approaching him from Pitt Street. He hit them with all the speed he could muster. His head jolted back when his forward momentum was stopped in an instant by the two policemen who suddenly felt like a human brick wall. Before he’d realised he hadn’t made it through their defence, his face was held firmly to the floor of the arcade, and his hands were handcuffed behind his back.