by Peter Corris
Billie sank back against Sharon's jacket. She didn't need to say anything. She closed her eyes and we could hear her heavy, laboured breathing. Ian pulled the rug up to her chin and patted her head. 'You'll be okay.'
He drew Sharon and me away to the kitchen and requested a cup of coffee. He saw the brandy bottle and held it up to the light. 'Spike it, Cliff.'
I made the coffee and he sipped it appreciatively. 'Your sister should be in hospital, Sharon, but I gather that's not an option.'
'No,' I said. 'Some high-powered people will be checking precisely that.'
Ian lit the cigarette, drew deeply and sipped the coffee. 'Okay. I'll leave you some Valium and I can arrange for a nurse to come here and give her the antibiotics and ventolin and monitor her progress for forty-eight hours. That's the best I can do. If she's not significantly improved by then she goes to hospital whatever the consequences. Cliff, you know I'm putting my licence on the line here.'
'Thanks, Ian.'
'Thank you, doctor,' Sharon said.
'I'll bill you, Cliff. Big time.'
'I can pay,' Sharon said.
I waved away Ian's smoke. 'He's joking, Sharon. We work it out in bottles of red.'
'Blokes,' Sharon said.
Ian left and I went out to see how Tommy was getting on and to do some thinking. He'd cleared most of the lantana and other vines and was working on a corner of the yard choked by some shrub with multiple stems and stalks that looked ready to take over the world. He stopped and wiped away sweat.
'You're doing a great job.'
'Thanks. It's harder than I thought but I'm getting there.'
'Mike been round?'
'Once. He seemed happy.'
'Should be. Sorry about barging in like this. Couldn't think of anywhere else to go.'
'Cops after you?'
'Could be, but they're not the main worry. We won't be here long.'
'Not a problem. How's the sickie?'
'Not too good, that's why we'll have to move soon. Found anything interesting under all the crap, apart from the statues?'
'Mostly bottles, man, mostly bottles.'
I hadn't thought about the police for a while and I began to consider them as the best option despite Sharon's earlier objections. Things had got more serious since then. I went back into the house to find Billie sitting up and nursing a big glass of brandy. Two pills lay on the rug.
'She won't take the Valium,' Sharon said. 'Reckons she's all right. I've been thinking. Looks to me as if we'll have to go to the police and tell them the whole story.'
'No,' Billie yelled and then collapsed with a fit of coughing. She hung on to the brandy though.
Sharon tried to put her arm around her but Billie shook her off. 'Look, Billie, I know there's warrants and stuff on you but we can work it out. Cliff'll help, won't you?'
I nodded but I could see Billie wasn't buying it. She fought for breath and took a big drink when she was able. 'I can't have anything to do with the cops.'
'Why?' Sharon said.
'I can't tell you.'
'Jesus, after all I've-'
Billie could only get a few words out at a time. 'That's the… fucking trouble… with you… Sharon. Always fucking… doing things… for me.'
'And you're never fucking grateful.'
It sounded like a script they'd played too often in the past and I didn't want to watch a re-run. I moved away and left them to it. After a few more exchanges they were both crying and Billie's breath was coming in ever shorter gasps. At this rate, I wouldn't have the forty-eight hours to work with. Eventually there was silence in the room and I could hear the birds outside and the resounding thunk of Tommy's slasher.
Billie sucked in a painful gulp of air. 'Please, please… please… no cops.' She picked up the pills and popped them into her mouth with a big gulp of brandy.
Sharon jumped forward to try to stop her but Billie swallowed and lay back with a smile on her face. 'Don't worry, sis. I've built up a lot of tolerance. Just let me dream for a bit. And, Sharon…?'
'Yes.'
'I want that twenty grand.'
Sharon looked at me helplessly. 'I should just piss off and leave you and her to work it out. Taking care of Sarah, that's my responsibility.'
'Won't work, Sharon. Clement and Greaves both know you're involved. But you should get on to Sarah and tell her to stick close to her boyfriend and be careful about where they go.'
'Great. They'll love that, like being in a movie. I don't think.'
'Can't be helped. Is there any chance Clement or Greaves can find out where Sammy is?'
Sharon considered. 'No, but I take your point. Another reason why I can't just walk away. Come on, Cliff, you're the man of action who's dealt with these sorts of bastards for years. What can we do? Don't forget I'm paying you.'
I grinned. 'Out of Billie's twenty thou.'
Sharon looked at her sister on the bed. She appeared to be sleeping, but with Billie, who could be sure?
'Fuck Billie. I almost wish that sadistic prick had-'
'No you don't. I've been thinking it over. The only thing to do is to set Clement and Greaves at odds. Hope they cancel each other out.'
'How d'we do that?'
'Go easy. I haven't got that far yet.'
'You probably broke that bandy one's jaw and wrecked his dental work.'
I shrugged. 'Staying out of his way is one of the things I'm doing here.'
'It was sort of exciting though.'
'Don't get hooked on it.'
'What do you mean?'
'I've seen it happen. I've seen people, perfectly normal ones, drawn into this kind of thing and they get a taste for it. I knew a bloke like that who robbed a bank just to keep the adrenalin running after he got into some trouble that wasn't his fault.'
'Don't worry. I'm a country girl now and that's what I'm getting back to, ASA bloody P.'
21
'Cliff,' Sharon called. 'Someone's coming.'
A car had pulled up in the street. I raced into the bedroom and picked up the. 38. I couldn't see how either Clement or Greaves could know where we were, but strange things happen. I stood by a window and watched the gate. Steve Kooti and Mary Latekefu came into view and hailed Tommy, still hacking away in a corner of the yard. Nothing to be done. They saw the Falcon. They went across and talked to him. Tommy gestured in the direction of the house. Perfectly natural for him to tell his nurse aunt there was a sick woman inside.
I met her at the back door. She scowled when she saw the gun in my hand, pushed me aside and went in to where Billie was sleeping-maybe.
'What in the world is going on here, Mr Hardy?' she said. 'That woman should be in hospital, and what are you doing with a gun where my nephew's working? I warn you, if you get him in any trouble I'll..'
Kooti appeared beside her. I'd put the gun away but he heard what she'd said and wasn't happy.
'Answer her,' he said.
Sharon came into the room. Mary Latekefu hadn't met her, saw the resemblance, but wasn't mollified. 'Your sister is very sick.'
'We had a doctor here this morning. A nurse is coming to give her some antibiotics.'
The big Polynesian woman, looking even bigger in her civvies than she had in her nurses' uniform, gave a short laugh and stalked to the back door. 'Nurse! This place is filthy. She needs proper care in a proper hospital.'
'It's a long story, Sister,' I said. 'We had to find somewhere safe for a while. I'm sure Tommy's not in any danger and he's not involved in the… mess.'
'What kind of mess?' Kooti asked.
'Important people, big money and some casualties.'
'What kind of casualties?'
'Fatal.'
'That's enough. We're taking Thomas out of here now and I'm reporting you to the police.'
'No!'
Tommy fronted up with his slasher over his shoulder. He had a strip of cloth tied around his forehead and his body was running with sweat. His jaw was set and his eyes
were bright. He looked something like a guerrilla jungle fighter, ready to die for his cause.
'Thomas, you have to get away from these people.'
Tommy carefully leaned the slasher against the house, took off his bandanna and wiped his face. 'No, Aunty. You're wrong. Cliff here's my friend and I trust him. I'm not in any kind of trouble. I've got a job to do and I'm going to do it.'
'That woman could die and you'd-'
'A doctor came. He said she had some sort of infection and he's treating her. If she's not improved by tonight she's going to hospital. Right, Cliff, Sharon?'
'Right,' I said, although he'd just cut my time to manoeuvre in half.
Kooti looked at his nephew with amazement. 'That's about the most I've ever heard you say at one time, Tommy.'
'Uncle Steve,' Tommy said, 'the man who owns this house trusts me, Cliff trusts me. No one much ever trusted me before. You remember what a piss-head, cone-head, fuckwit I was out at Liston? Well, I haven't had a drink or any dope for days and I don't want it.'
Mary Latekefu shook her head disapprovingly at the language, but I could see she was impressed with Tommy's resolution. Still, she was hard to move. 'Who's the doctor?'
'An old friend of mine. He's gone out on a limb for us.'
'People do that a lot for you, do they, Mr Hardy?'
'Sometimes. Billie benefited from the time she spent in the hospital, thanks to you. She doesn't seem to be having any withdrawal problems. She's been eating and drinking a bit. Apparently her temperature and other signs aren't too bad. All I can tell you is that she's in serious danger if she goes into hospital before we can… resolve her problem. I can't say more than that.'
'You're a smooth talker, Hardy,' Kooti said.
To my surprise, Sharon flared up. 'He's a lot more than that. Please, we just need a little more time.'
'Mary?' Kooti said.
She went back into Billie's room and was away for a few minutes while the rest of us just stood about. When she returned she looked at her watch. 'Either I get a call from this doctor by midday tomorrow reporting on her condition or what hospital she's in or I report all this to the authorities. Stephen and I are staying in Sydney for a few days. Stephen has my mobile number.'
She gave Tommy a kiss on the cheek and went down the path to the gate. Kooti shrugged as he watched Tommy pick up his tool and go back to work.
'Looks like she's running the show.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'Give us her number. I've still got yours.'
Kooti took a pen from his jacket pocket and scribbled a number on the back of a credit card receipt. 'I like the way the kid's shaping up.'
I took the slip. 'I just might need your help, Steve.'
'Call me,' he said.
Ian Sangster's nurse arrived, a no-nonsense middle-aged woman who was evidently used to Ian's individualistic style of medicine. She examined Billie, who was sleepy but responsive, put a catheter in her arm, gave her a shot and left a vial of the medication and some pills with Sharon.
'She's not too bad,' the nurse said. 'Give her those later today and the injection tomorrow morning. Here's how you do it.'
She gave Sharon clear instructions and left. The number of people who knew about our bolt-hole was mounting, but it still felt safe. It was late morning and Sharon went off to get us some lunch. Tommy finally knocked off and drank about half a litre of water. He gestured over his shoulder at the house.
'How is she?'
'Not bad. I'm hoping to have everything settled by around this time tomorrow.'
'Yeah? How?'
'I'm still working on it.'
Sharon came back with a swag of flat bread, Greek salad and dips, fruit and orange juice. We sat around a table on the back porch in the shade. Tommy hoed in, but neither Sharon nor I had much appetite. Tommy went to his room for a nap as Sharon tidied away the food.
'Hey, don't put it away. I'm as hungry as a horse.'
Billie stepped onto the porch, grabbing the doorjamb for support. The stained nightdress barely reached her knees and it had slipped off her shoulder, leaving one breast nearly bare.
'Billie, you shouldn't be up,' Sharon said.
'Fuck that. I'm feeling better. That juice the old cow put into me hit the spot.'
She took a few hesitant steps and slumped down into the chair Tommy had vacated. She tore off a few pieces of bread and used them to ferry some salad to her mouth in the approved fashion, Another couple of chunks went into the humous and eggplant dip and she chewed with enthusiasm. There was more colour in her face than I'd seen so far and her hands were steady.
'Stop looking at me like that, you,' she snapped. 'I'm okay.'
'You've had pneumonia,' I said. 'If you're not careful you could get very sick.'
The clinical word seemed to pull her up for a moment, but she waved it away and reached for the orange juice. 'Anything to give this a boost? Where's that brandy from last night?'
'We drank it,' Sharon said.
'Fuck you. Hey, lighten up, you guys. I'm going to be fine. I'm a fast healer, right, sis? Remember when I had that… well, never mind.'
'Clap,' Sharon said. 'At the clinic they said they'd never seen anyone get clear of it so fast.'
'That's me. Now let's talk about what's going to happen next. Where's the cute kid, by the way?'
I said, 'He's having a rest. Been working since first light. What's going to happen is that we're trying to keep you clear of Jonas Clement and Barclay Greaves, who both want you talking, then dead.'
Billie swigged orange juice from the container and didn't turn a hair. 'Clement I know, sort of; don't know the other one, but I've dealt with pricks like them before.'
Sharon snatched the drink bottle away. 'Didn't you hear what was said last night? That guy was going to torture you.'
Billie shrugged. 'Didn't happen. I don't worry about shit that doesn't happen.'
'You're impossible.'
Billie lifted a shoulder and the top of the nightdress slid further, exposing a firm breast with a large brown nipple. 'No, I'm very possible. What's Mr Resourceful here going to do next?'
Sharon slammed her fist on the table and walked away.
'Hey, bring back the fucking juice.'
When Sharon didn't respond, Billie turned her attention to me. She cupped her hand around the bare breast and teased the nipple with her fingers. 'Well?'
'Very nice,' I said. 'I bet when you were stripping you could swing the two tassels either way together, or one to the left and the other to the right.'
She laughed. 'You bet I could, while doing the fuckin' splits.'
'Bit past it now though, aren't you?'
Her eyes were dark recesses surrounded by lines, and the skin on her hands was slightly wrinkled, puckered around her wrists. For all her emaciation there was an underlying flabbiness about her, the result of years of abuse, and she seemed to be aware of it all at once. The animation left her face and she sagged in the chair. She hitched up the nightdress.
'You're an arsehole.'
'An arsehole who might stop you getting killed.'
'Yeah, well, I'm all for that as long as I get a go at the thirty grand.'
'Twenty.'
She grinned and tried to recover some of the bravado, but her bedraggled appearance and sour breath let her down. 'We might try to up the ante.'
'Don't even think it. They're out of your league.'
'How about yours?'
'We'll see. Go back to bed, Billie. You're tired.'
She went and passed Sharon on the way. They didn't speak.
Sharon picked at the crumbs on the table. 'She drives me mad, always did. Why d'you think she was so desperate about not seeing the police? I mean, with a lawyer and everything they couldn't do too much to her. She doesn't seem to be having withdrawal problems.'
'I don't know, but I agree she was desperate about it. As for the withdrawal, she's still got a fever and she's still got alcohol and Valium in her system. It might hit her yet.'<
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'God help everyone if it does. Now, I heard what you said to Tommy and his uncle about getting things sorted out. Sounds as if you've got a plan.'
'It's sketchy.'
'Are you going to tell me what it is?'
'Better you don't know. For your own good.'
She stared out at the work-in-progress yard and made an exasperated grunt. 'Men are always telling women what's for their own good, instead of letting them decide for themselves.'
'I suppose that's true. In this case…'
'When's it going to change?'
I got up, reaching for my notebook which is never far from hand. 'When you rule the world,' I said.
'Roll on the day.'
She wandered out into the back yard, picked up a rake and started to tidy up some of Tommy's rougher spots. I checked the numbers and dialled the radio station owned and performed on by Jonas Clement. '2BC FM.'
'I have an important message for Mr Jonas Clement.'
'I'll put you through to his secretary.'
When the secretary came on the line I asked to speak to Clement and was told he wasn't available.
'I understand that,' I said. 'I have a very important message for him. You should get this down word for word, okay? Tell him that Cliff Hardy called-he knows the name-and that if he wants to learn something about his son he should meet me tomorrow at eleven fifty am at the coffee shop on the top level of the Queen Victoria Building, Town Hall end. He's to come alone and be strictly prompt. Have you got that?'
'I think so. But what-?'
'Just read it back.'
She did and had it pretty right. I corrected a few things. She didn't like it and tried to press for more personal details but I overrode her. 'Just get that message to Clement or I guarantee you won't have a job tomorrow.'
I cut the connection, rang Oceania Securities and went through the same procedure, except that the message to Barclay Greaves referred to Clive McGuinness rather than Clement's son and the time I specified was midday.
I put the phone down and nodded to Tommy as he went past me out into the yard. He and Sharon wrestled for the rake and both laughed when Tommy let Sharon win. It was the most light-hearted moment I'd seen in some time and it gave me a lift. Then I put in a call to Hank Bachelor. I'd told Clement and Greaves to come alone, but I didn't believe they would and neither would I.