White Shoes, White Lines and Blackie

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White Shoes, White Lines and Blackie Page 27

by Robert G. Barrett


  Kramer gave an expressionless nod; though the mention of the word ‘cops’ seemed to have struck a bell.

  ‘I don’t know whether you want the cops in your hair, KK, but I don’t.’ Les looked evenly at Kramer. ‘I’ll stick around if you want me to, I won’t just piss off and leave you in the lurch. But I think it might be best if I got on the toe. I’ll ring those people at Murwillumbah. I’ll get a cab to Tweed Heads and they’ll pick me up there. I’ll find my way back to Sydney from their joint. I mean, I’m mainly thinking of you, KK. But you don’t want to be held up by fuckin’ cops and boofhead reporters in the morning. Get one of Black’s boys to go up to Brisbane with you tomorrow. In fact I’d stay at his joint tonight if I were you. Me? I think the further I am away from here the better. And if the cops say anything to you, just say you don’t know where I am. I pissed off.’ Norton shrugged. ‘Anyway, it’s entirely up to you, KK. But what do you reckon?’

  Kramer stared at Norton till the words eventually came out. ‘I think that might be a real good idea, Les.’

  ‘Me fuckin’ too,’ moaned Crystal.

  ‘Okay, then that’s settled. I’ll piss off.’ The limousine lurched on in the traffic, and Les turned his attention to Crystal. ‘Jesus, I’ll tell you what. You do look crook, Crystal. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  Crystal continued to moan. ‘Ohh God, I think I’m going to be sick. Kelvin, when we get back to the apartment, take me for a walk on the beach. Near the water. Wash this blood off me, clear my fucking mind. Christ! Look at me.’ Crystal stared in horror at her white top; something stuck on her shoulder caught her eye. ‘Oh my God! What’s that?’ It looked like a hairy leech. ‘Aaagghh!’ Crystal let out a scream. ‘It’s an eyebrow. Ohhh get it off me. Aagghh!’ Crystal slapped at the eyebrow like it was a cockroach that had just crawled up her arm, till it fell off onto the back floor of the limo.

  Norton turned to Kramer. ‘That might be a good idea,’ he said sagely. ‘Take Crystal for a walk along the beach for a few minutes. The sea air’ll do her good.’ Kramer half nodded a reply.

  They arrived back at the flats in a kind of shocked silence. Les got out of the car and held the door open for the others. ‘You be needing the limo any more tonight?’ Kramer shook his head as he got out. Les caught Tony’s eye. The driver didn’t need to be told twice; he drove off leaving Norton to help Crystal through the front door then up the stairs to their unit.

  ‘It’ll only take me a few minutes to pack my gear,’ said Les, digging out his own key as Kramer opened his door while Crystal leant against the wall. ‘But I’ll see you before I leave.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever you say, Les.’ Kramer helped Crystal inside and shut the door.

  Inside his own flat, Norton went straight to the bathroom and switched on the light. Shit! Les was a bigger mess than he thought. In all the ruckus and with his adrenalin squirting through him he’d hardly felt anything. But his eyes were bleeding again, as was his nose and he’d copped a couple in the mouth, though it wasn’t all that bad. The rest was just bruises round his ribs and lumps on top of his head and someone had given him a decent kick in the kidneys. His denim shirt wasn’t worth keeping, except maybe for a souvenir, and there was blood all over his jeans. Les stripped off, threw everything on the floor and cleaned himself up with a towel and some hot water, and was pleased to find that most of the blood wasn’t his. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror. Don’t know what the fuck I’m going to tell DD this time though? How about a meteorite hit the limo. And all these little green men with laser guns got out and shot it up? These aren’t cuts or bruises, they’re burns. He wiped some more blood out of his hair. After this afternoon’s effort and the flowers, my mate DD’d just about cop anything. But what about bloody Grungle turning up. Despite the gravity of the situation and the thought of whether he could get Murray his earn playing on his mind, Norton had to laugh. As he had surmised earlier, the thought of the cops arriving had put a rocket up Kramer’s arse, but the arrival of Grungle on the scene had made things a lot easier. Now he wouldn’t have to hang around. He’d just have to move smartly and hope he was right. Les smiled wickedly as he gave his hair one last comb. At least it’ll be a while before Jasper and his mates go around kicking the shit out of anybody again. At least until they’re all out of hospital. Norton’s smile turned into a nasty, spiteful laugh. I’m glad I’m not the one having to do all the stitching. He turned off the light and went into the bedroom.

  Les got into the track-suit pants with the piece missing, the blue T-shirt he’d left on the bed and his Nikes; everything else he packed away. Leaving the rest of the lights in the flat off and moving very quietly, Les got the piece of sponge rubber, put it in another plastic bag he had in the kitchen and placed it out on the back sundeck next to the knife, noticing this time there were plenty of lights on next door and raised voices. He came back inside, waited a minute or two while he had a glass of water, then making sure everything he needed was either packed securely or on him, Les decided it was time to leave. He let himself out, closed the door behind him and knocked on Kramer’s.

  Kramer opened the door and blinked through his glasses, which were now wiped clean of any blood. ‘Les…’

  ‘Well, I’m off, KK,’ said Norton. ‘Sorry it had to turn out like this. But, fair dinkum, Kelvin, you want to be careful with some of the people you deal with. Like that bloke said out the front, there’s plenty of dropkicks up here. Though I don’t think you’ll be having any trouble with those blokes for a while. I suppose that’s one good thing. Anyway,’ Norton offered his hand, ‘thanks for everything, KK. I had a great time. Apart from my head,’ he added with a laugh. ‘So I’ll see you back in Sydney or whatever.’

  Kramer gave a sickly sort of smile and dropped his hand in Norton’s like it was a dead goldfish. ‘Yeah, good, Les. I’ll, ah… see you. Have a nice trip.’ Kramer started to close the door.

  ‘Thanks, Kelvin. Oh, ah… before you go. Those two tapes I loaned Crystal, you couldn’t get them for me, could you?’

  ‘Wait here a minute.’

  ‘And ah… while you’re there. The rest of that money too, if you could. I have to get my own way back to Sydney now and I’ll probably need it.’

  Kramer nodded and closed the door and was back in about half a minute. ‘There you are, Les.’ He handed Norton the two tapes. ‘And there’s that thousand dollars. We’re all square.’

  Les took the money and his eyes seemed to brim. ‘Jesus, you’re a good bloke, Kelvin. I’ll see you.’

  Kramer nodded almost imperceptibly, the briefest of smiles flickered on his face and he closed the door. Les picked up his bag and walked down to the front door. He didn’t open it. He counted to ten then went back up the stairs and knocked on Kramer’s door. A few seconds later Kramer opened it. He looked at Norton but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Mate,’ smiled Les. ‘I almost forgot. The keys.’ Norton jangled the master keys Kramer had given him in front of Kramer’s face and handed them to him. ‘See you, KK.’ Kramer muttered something and closed the door.

  Norton let himself out the front door this time and walked briskly up to the LTD, carefully looking behind and around him. There were people about and cars going past, but Les looked just like any other person with a couple of bags leaving or arriving on the Gold Coast. He dropped his bags in the boot, had another look around as he closed it then walked just as briskly back to the flats.

  There were still more people around and more cars going past out the front, but no one saw Les shinny up the wall separating the flats from the units next door, like a commando. And no one saw Les creep up the back stairs in the shadows to his flat and hide against the wall of the sundeck which separated it from the one next door.

  Les crouched there for about five minutes. He could hear voices coming from inside. They suddenly got louder, then the back door slid open and Kramer and Crystal came out. Les couldn’t see what they had on but he could hear Crystal kind of gagging an
d gasping and KK didn’t sound like he was doing much better. They slid the door closed behind them and still moaning and muttering away, walked down the stairs to the beach. Norton gave it another minute or two, peeked over the balcony to make sure they were out of sight, then with the knife in one hand and the plastic bag containing the sponge rubber in the other, stepped over onto Kramer’s sundeck.

  The door had a weak latch on it just like the one on Norton’s and Les was able to jemmy it open with the knife, without hardly leaving a scratch, in a few seconds. The light in the main bedroom was on and as Les had expected Kramer’s unit was the same as his only in reverse. The stereo and TV were bigger, the white carpet thicker and the furniture more plush; but the same set-up.

  Tiptoeing down the hallway to the two bedrooms Norton could see they had the same idea as him also; sleep in the main bedroom and throw all your junk in the other one. Les decided to check the main bedroom out first. KK’s blood-spattered white shoes and clothes were strewn on the floor and a half-packed suitcase was lying on the double bed which Les recognised as the same one he’d picked up for Kramer at Coolangatta airport. Norton tapped the knife against his side for a moment. No, I got a feeling what I’m looking for isn’t in here. Quietly he tiptoed into the smaller bedroom.

  It was in darkness, but there was enough light reflecting off the hallway to see well enough and Norton’s eyes were all right in the dark at any time. The first thing he noticed was Crystal’s bloodied clothes laying on the floor and her bra sitting on the end of the bed next to a pair of pink knickers. Les gave the knickers a bit of a nudge with the knife, put it on the bed with the plastic bag and had a good look at her bra. Oh grand-ma-ma. Les laughed to himself. What a big pair of tits you have. All the better to… Norton laughed to himself again.

  He put the bra back exactly as he found it. Isn’t this lovely, Les thought to himself as he stood in the darkness? Going through a woman’s underwear behind her back. I always knew I was some sort of a perv. Next thing it’ll be breather calls on the phone, a dirty raincoat and hanging around schools and toilets. Dear oh dear. What’s a man coming to? But I think what this dirty old man is looking for is in one of those two nice brown alligator-skin suitcases. And why wouldn’t they be alligator skin? Ain’t that all there is where yo’ all come from, Crystal, honey? Gators, gumbo and grits.

  The first and larger suitcase contained mainly clothes: jeans, jackets, shoes, knitted tops, the bulky top Crystal wore when she arrived at Eagle Farm. Norton ran his hands round and through the bag, making sure he didn’t disturb anything, before finally shaking his head. The other, smaller suitcase contained stockings, socks, T-shirts and other odds and ends plus the rest of Crystal’s underwear, which ranged in colour and pattern from black with a big, purple and red heart across the front to a bright red pair with little blue alligators all over them and white lace. Norton went through the suitcase very carefully, then his face lit up. What he was looking for was tucked against the side at one end. Even more carefully, Les eased it out and placed it on the bed. A squeeze here, a squeeze there, then a huge grin spread across Norton’s face. Yeah. Just like I thought, and just like that ad on TV. Who was that artist? Reubens? Rembrandt? He wouldn’t have known at the time. Well, I wasn’t too sure myself. But I am now. Les had another bit of a squeeze around. Though I was wrong in the garage, he thought, KK didn’t stitch things up all that much at all. Maybe just a little bit. But not to worry. Les got the piece of sponge rubber from the plastic bag, fiddled around a bit, then put what he was looking for in the plastic bag along with the knife and folded everything back up and rearranged it all in the suitcase exactly as he’d found it.

  More than satisfied with himself and not sure whether he could hear voices coming in the backyard, Norton had a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear and left by the front door. He walked quickly down the stairs, opened the front door of the flats a crack and peered out; no one around. Norton was up the street and sitting in the front seat of the LTD in about half a minute, the plastic bag on the seat alongside him, the knife on the front floor.

  Well, have I done it or what? Les gave the plastic bag a squeeze, then he grinned. I think I just might have. And I think I’ve got that loving, good-looking brother of mine his earn too. Les winked out the window up towards the night sky. Thanks, mate. Another half a minute later Norton was on the highway heading towards the boarding house.

  There was a dust-covered Holden utility out the front that had to be Murray’s. Les pulled up just behind it and with the plastic bag in his hand, trotted up the front steps. The front door was open, Les tapped lightly on the fly-screen. The light was on in the hallway and to the left was another soft light plus the glow and sound of a TV set.

  ‘Come on in,’ came a woman’s voice.

  Norton scuffed his feet on the door-mat and stepped inside, sliding the fly-screen door behind him. Mrs Llivac was sitting back on the lounge watching some old movie on TV, wearing one of those knee length T-shirts in white with Mickey Mouse on the front; and an ample amount of good things were poking out the front of the T-shirt, bending Mickey all over the place. Mrs Llivac had a look of dreamy contentment on her face and a box of Darrel Lea chocolates on the end of the lounge. She also had this healthy glow pulsing from her cheeks like she might have been to an aerobics class or been out in the sun earlier.

  Les looked at her and was about to say something when he stopped short and gave a couple of doubleblinks. It wasn’t Mrs Llivac’s buxom, healthy appearance that surprised Les. Lying just at Mrs Llivac’s feet, still wearing his rubber mask, was Grungle. And lying up against Grungle was this old grey cat with black stripes and green eyes. Both were asleep but looked up briefly, stretched and yawned then went back to sleep, though Grungle gave his tail a wag and seemed to keep one sleepy eye on Les.

  ‘How are you, Mr Menzies?’ asked Llivac.

  ‘Huh?’ Norton felt like he’d just been woken from a dream. ‘I’m… real good thanks, Mrs Llivac. How are you?’

  ‘Fine. Just fine. Mr Thomas said you’d be calling around. He’s expecting you.’

  ‘Yeah. I rang earlier.’ Les continued to stare at Mrs Llivac and Grungle lying at her feet.

  Mrs Llivac went back to the TV, next thing she screwed her face up and gave Grungle a bit of a kick in the ribs. ‘Oh Blackie, no. Not again.’ Grungle half moved his head as Mrs Llivac started waving her hand in front of her face. ‘Lord have mercy.’

  Norton stared at Grungle, then caught Mrs Llivac looking up at him. ‘Blackie…?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Thomas’s dog. Oh, but he’s a lovely old thing though, aren’t you, Blackie?’ Mrs Llivac patted Grungle on the head as if to make up for kicking him. ‘But some times…’

  Les continued to stare. ‘He seems to get on all right with the cat,’ was all he could think to say.

  ‘Oliver? Oh he and Ollie get on just fine. Ollie’s a big softie, just like me. Aren’t you, Ollie?’ Mrs Llivac patted the cat, as if to square up for patting Grungle. ‘Mr Thomas had Blackie in the back of his pick-up, and he told me how he’d been bitten by a snake and he was sick. I mean, what could you do? I couldn’t let him sleep outside in the cold, with all that noise and the fumes from the traffic. So I said, oh let him stay inside, poor thing. And he’s such a lovely old thing too. Aren’t you, Blackie?’ Mrs Llivac patted Grungle again.

  ‘Yeah. He’s a good bloke all right. Aren’t you… Blackie?’ Norton grinned then crouched down and gave Grungle a good pat on the stomach. Grungle rolled over on his back and wriggled his massive shoulders around exposing a huge pair of black nuts. ‘Yeah, he’s all right,’ said Les sincerely. ‘Don’t worry about him.’

  ‘It’s just that every now and again, Mr Menzies, he lets one go. I swear it would strip the husks from a field of Idaho corn.’

  Norton burst out laughing. Luckily his nose was that swollen and clogged with blood he couldn’t smell a thing. ‘Well, in that case, I don’t think I’d better rub his stomach any mor
e. He might rip another one off.’

  Mrs Llivac rolled her eyes at Les and shook her head. Les stood up thinking it might be time to get down to business.

  ‘So which is Mr Thomas’s room?’

  ‘Second on your right. He only got in a little while ago. He had to do some work on his car.’

  ‘I’ll go in and see him then. I won’t be all that long.’ Les gave Mrs Llivac a smile and got one back. He looked at Grungle now totally relaxed, half shook his head then walked down the hallway and knocked softly on Murray’s door.

  ‘Yeah. Come in.’

  Murray’s room had a single bed, a wardrobe and dressing table and was spotlessly clean. There was a writing desk and a small sofa at one end, a bathroom and toilet ran off to the right. Murray’s blood-spattered white gear was in the bathroom and a familiar pair of blue overalls hung on the door of the wardrobe. Murray was sprawled along the bed in a pair of white boxers and a clean white singlet, very casually sipping a bottle of beer. Apart from a bit of a fat lip, a small mouse under each eye and a bit of bark missing here and there he looked all right.

  ‘So how are you feeling?’ said Les, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Not bad,’shrugged Murray. ‘Laddered a stocking, lost an earring. But apart from that I’m all right. What about yourself?’

  Les shrugged back. ‘Absolutely ruined my hair, but other than that I brushed up okay. You got a beer in the fridge?’ Without waiting for an answer Les went to the small bar fridge next to the TV. ‘Hello, Eumundi.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s not a bad drop. I like the long neck. I can shove a slice of zucchini in it, or whatever it is you and all your poof mates in Sydney like to stick in your beer.’

  ‘Hey, don’t talk to me about poofs. What about you in your all-white gear? You looked like Sydney Greenstreet in Casablanca. Where the fuck did you get that outfit?’ Les sat down on the sofa, put the plastic bag next to him and had a long slurp of beer.

 

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