Strange Ink

by Gary Kemble

  Harry lowered himself to the wet floor. He could feel Rob calculating, working out the odds of escape. In the corner of his eye he saw Crow yanking Dave to his feet, as Heathy laid his shotgun on the ground. Harry grunted as Heathy dropped a knee into his back, then pulled his hands together. He grimaced as a cable tie bit into his wrists. As Heathy moved to secure Jess, he looked to her and mouthed ‘Sorry’. She blinked it away and shook her head with reassurance.

  Heathy slammed his foot down in the small of Harry’s back, sending an explosion of pain through him. He started to black out, and Heathy grabbed his hair and shook him awake.

  ‘That’s for that shit you pulled in the hospital,’ he said, then laughed. Hyuck, hyuck, hyuck.

  He dragged Harry to his feet. Then Jess.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ Crow said.

  CHAPTER 49

  In the back seat of Crow and Heathy’s battered Ford Falcon, Harry sat slouched against the door, waves of pain washing over him. Jess was wedged in the middle between him and Dave. Harry’s hands were going numb, but the worst of it was the nausea-inducing throb coming from the small of his back. The radio was on, tuned to election coverage. Heathy climbed into the passenger seat, while Crow stood out in the rain, talking on his phone. On the other side of the weed-strewn parking lot, Saturday-night traffic streamed along Waterworks Road.

  Crow climbed in. ‘He’s going to meet us there.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit risky?’ Heathy said.

  ‘Yeah, well neither of us are in the running for employee of the month, are we?’

  He slammed the door and gunned the engine. Heathy cranked the radio.

  ‘Didn’t know you were into politics,’ Crow said.

  ‘. . . and as you just heard, Andrew Cardinal has left his election party at the Eastern Suburbs Leagues Club. We’re not exactly sure where he’s going. . .’

  ‘Well,’ Heathy said, ‘It’s more interesting when it’s interactive.’

  Crow pulled out into the Saturday-night traffic. The now-torrential rain pounded on the roof of the car. A woman ran across the road, dress plastered to her skin, trying to protect herself from the deluge with her clutch. Harry willed her to turn around and look. But what would she see? A car full of people. Big deal.

  The car powered down Enoggera Terrace, past old Queenslanders and trendy restaurants, then onto Kennedy Terrace, heading through a maze of back streets towards the water tower. The windscreen wipers could barely keep up with the rain. Lightning carved the sky into pieces and the radio buzzed.

  ‘Ever seen an incoming prime minister leave his own victory party so early?’ the presenter said.

  ‘Well, the last words of his victory speech were “Let’s get to work”, so maybe he’s leading by example. . .’

  Dave sat slumped forward in the seat, blood dripping from his lips.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dave,’ Harry said. ‘You were right, we should have gone to the police.’

  Dave shrugged. ‘Yeah, maybe. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your fault, Harry. It’s these fuckers in the front.’

  Heathy turned in his seat. ‘Yeah, yeah. Just settle, petal. Once Harry finds our gear for us, we’ll set you on your merry way and you can kiss and make up.’

  Harry doubted that was the case. He doubted any of them would live to tell the tale. Harry had stepped through the veil between the normal world and the underworld, and he’d dragged Jess and Dave with him.

  As they pulled up outside the water tower, the car triggered a set of spotlights. The rain had eased off slightly, the drizzle drifting through the sickly yellow light. Crow turned off the engine. From next door came the sounds of someone splashing in a pool, and election coverage competing with the pop music blaring over the sound system. Another seat was called for Labor, and a cheer went up.

  ‘Wouldn’t have thought of this area as a Labor stronghold,’ Heathy said.

  ‘What isn’t a Labor stronghold these days?’ Crow replied.

  Crow fished around in his pockets for his cigarettes, tapped one out and lit up. The smell of the smoke, coupled with the odour of the decaying upholstery, made Harry feel sick. A set of headlights appeared from the other end of the street, the car moving at a crawl.

  ‘It’s showtime,’ Crow said. He and Heathy climbed out of the car.

  ‘Harry,’ Dave said. ‘If I don’t get out of this, and you do, tell Ellie I love her.’

  ‘Dave. . .’ But he had no words.

  A big black BMW pulled up. The passenger door opened, and in that moment Harry saw Vessel in the driver’s seat. He drew a small amount of satisfaction from the fact that the smug expression from that night on the Brisbane Eye was gone, replaced by fear. Then the door slammed, the light went out, and Vessel was just a silhouette, a faceless man again.

  Cardinal strode over to the Falcon, suit flapping in the wind.

  ‘Where is he? Where is the shit? Give me your gun.’

  Crow handed over his pistol. Cardinal pulled open the door, yanked Harry out by his shirt and thrust him up against the side of the car. He jammed the pistol up under his chin.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go get us some documents.’

  He turned on Heathy and Crow. ‘Seeing as you two numbnuts are incapable of doing anything but fucking up lately, I’ll keep this simple. Heathy, grab the backpack out of the car and come with me. Harry and Jess are coming up with us. Crow, make sure this one doesn’t escape. Do you think you can manage that without a gun?’

  ‘Sure, boss,’ Crow said.

  Cardinal thrust Harry to one side and reached into the car for Jess. She tried to kick him but he grabbed her hair and yanked her out, dropping her in the mud. He put his boot on her back and pushed down. Harry moved forward but then Heathy was there, shotgun raised. Cardinal pocketed the gun and pulled out a pen knife. He opened the blade.

  ‘New fucking prime minister, and look what I’m doing,’ he muttered. ‘Micromanaging this clusterfuck.’

  He sliced Jess’s cable tie, then did the same for Harry, who rubbed some feeling back into his wrists.

  Cardinal pointed the gun at Jess’s head. ‘Come on, move it!’

  Lightning lanced down and thunder boomed as the storm intensified further. Cardinal opened the gate and they filed through. Heathy went first. Then Jess and Harry. Cardinal followed them. Across the sodden ground and up the ladder. Wind threatened to tear them from the structure and throw them into space. Harry risked a look down and saw Crow watching Dave in the car.

  Cardinal marched them along the maintenance gangway under the tank, to the final ladder. Harry looked up, as Heathy climbed over the edge and disappeared out of view, and then Jess. A few short weeks ago he wouldn’t have been able to climb up there in this weather, even with a gun to his head.

  As if on cue, Cardinal prodded him with his gun.

  ‘Move.’

  CHAPTER 50

  On the edge of the tower roof, on the side facing away from the city, was a square hatch secured with a padlock.

  ‘Cover me,’ Cardinal said. Heathy already had the shotgun trained on Harry and Jess. Cardinal fished in his pockets for his keys. He fumbled them, and they clanged against the steel. Cardinal got on his knees, found the key and unlocked the hatch.

  He pulled the cover back, letting it bang against the top of the tower.

  ‘Pass me the backpack,’ he said to Heathy.

  Cardinal fished out a torch and handed it to Harry.

  ‘Down you go,’ Cardinal said. ‘No fucking about, mate. You know what will happen to Jess if you do. I’ve killed so many people, a couple more won’t make any difference.’

  Harry shone the torch through the hatch, down into the darkness. There were handholds, leading to the bottom of the tank.

  Again he felt fear. What if the documents weren’t here any more? Why hadn’t Cardinal found them already? But there was no way back now. Just down.

  Harry shuffled through the hatch, slotting his feet into the holds, tryi
ng to ignore the sick pulsing pain in his back. With the torch shoved in his back pocket he climbed down, feeling his way. After the cacophony of the storm, it was silent down here. He stepped off the bottom rung into a thick layer of silt, which puffed up around his feet. Dirt that had been in the water maybe, or the result of the tank decaying from the inside out. He pulled out the torch and shone it around, noting the footprints and holes in the silt from a previous search. Amazingly, there was life down here. Moss, fungi, surviving on a tiny amount of light and moisture. Life goes on, Harry thought.

  He looked up as Cardinal clambered down, awkwardly holding on one-handed so he could wave the pistol at Harry. Again, Harry could feel Rob back there, assessing the situation, looking for a way out that didn’t involve sacrificing any more innocent lives.

  ‘Look at me,’ Cardinal said when he reached the bottom, pressing the gun against Harry’s chest. His voice echoed so much Harry could barely understand him. Cardinal was wet, bedraggled; hair messed up. He looked less like the politician, and more like the intel officer wreaking havoc in Helmand. He thrust Harry against the side of the water tower, and grabbed his chin.

  ‘You in there, Rob? Hello? You never really got it, did you? Power. You were good at sneaking around and taking out towelheads from a distance, but you couldn’t handle the true dirty work.

  ‘You made the mistake of thinking life is a team sport when it’s really one-on-one contact. Everyone is your enemy. Until you can understand that, you’ll never win.’

  He thrust Harry’s head to one side.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Cardinal said. ‘Commune with the spirit world.’

  The tattoos warmed Harry’s skin. The torch flickered. In that moment of darkness, Harry saw a familiar blue glow. He closed his eyes, remembering the night he and Jess made love. The sensation of seeing the world through two sets of eyes. He dropped into Rob’s breathing routine, then lowered himself to his hands and knees.

  Dust tickled his nostrils. He ignored it. Cardinal paced and cursed and fired more threats at him. Harry shut him out. He would wait. He had to wait. Like Harry, Cardinal was out of options.

  A sensation of weightlessness filled him. In his mind’s eye he saw himself floating out of his body, looking down on himself. No, not himself. Rob. Rob, dressed in a tight green t-shirt and jeans. Next to him was a package, wrapped in black plastic and sealed with silver duct tape. There was a bag and some tools, and a circle of metal about the size of an open umbrella.

  Harry dug into the dirt by his feet, his back pulsing in pain. Eventually, he revealed a round piece of metal, riveted to the bottom of the tank.

  Harry opened his eyes and looked up. ‘Your knife. Give me your knife.’

  Cardinal laughed. ‘Are you fucking crazy?’

  ‘It’s where the water used to flow,’ he said. ‘They covered it when the tank was decommissioned. You want the documents, then I need your knife.’

  Cardinal reached into his pants pocket and threw Harry the knife. He moved a couple of steps back and brandished the gun.

  Harry unfolded the blade. Again Rob assessed the situation. There was a small chance he could get to Cardinal without being shot. An even smaller chance he could get to Cardinal without a shot being fired. No chance of getting out of the tank without Heathy blowing his head off and murdering Jess. He turned back to the base of the water tank and slipped the knife blade under the edge of the metal, twisting to lever it up. Eventually, he made a gap big enough to get his fingers into.

  From above: ‘Boss?’ The echo: osssss, ossss, ossss.

  Harry looked up and saw Heathy peering down into the tank, dripping with rainwater. Cardinal cursed. ‘Yeah, hang on.’

  Harry put the knife down and heaved on the plate, biting back a scream. It came loose with a loud shriek. He slid it to one side. In the shallow cavity sat a rectangular package, wrapped in black plastic and sealed with duct tape.

  ‘Open it,’ Cardinal said.

  ‘Boss!’

  ‘Yes! For fuck’s sake! I see your face again and I’ll put a bullet in it!’

  Harry took the knife and slid it through the plastic. A large, metallic-green fire-proof document case. Harry wiped his forehead.

  Cardinal dumped the backpack at his feet. ‘Get it in there and let’s move.’

  Harry loaded the case into the backpack. He reached again for the knife but Cardinal got to it first, closing the blade and slipping it back into his pocket. Harry grimaced as he slung the pack over his shoulder. His pain-wracked body was drenched in sweat.

  ‘Come on!’ Cardinal’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.

  Harry’s feet clanged on the ladder rungs as he ascended. He’d never felt so tired or defeated.

  CHAPTER 51

  Harry climbed onto the roof of the tower into rain that was now coming down so hard it almost hurt. Heathy was bent over, trying to keep his feet as he stood over Jess. Nearby trees thrashed back and forth. The sky boiled with thunder and lightning.

  At first he thought the red and blue lights strobing off the nearby houses were a figment of his imagination. Then he saw how Heathy’s face snapped from side to side, like a caged animal. Harry followed his gaze and saw a street full of cop cars. Further up the road, a white van with a satellite dish on the roof and a TV channel logo on the side edged past a police barrier.

  Cardinal clambered up after him. The smile withered on his face.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘They came out of nowhere,’ Heathy said. ‘They got Crow!’

  ‘Crow! Crow? Who gives a fucking shit! I’m standing here with my fucking balls hanging out!’

  A gust of wind pummelled the tower. Cardinal staggered, then regained his footing. He grabbed Harry and pressed the gun against his head.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he yelled. ‘Why are the cops here?’

  ‘Your boys confessed.’

  He glared at Heathy. ‘What the fuck is he talking about?’

  Heathy shrugged.

  ‘Back at the skate rink,’ Harry yelled. ‘A colleague of mine was recording. Live-streamed it to the internet. She followed us here and got the audio of you spilling your guts.’

  Cardinal’s head swivelled frantically back and forth, looking for a woman with a camera. He couldn’t see her. He was probably blinded by the police flashers. But Harry could. Standing just outside the fence, still recording. Harry didn’t know if she’d managed to get any useable audio from the top of the tower, or inside it, but it didn’t matter anymore. He had Andrew Cardinal, standing in front of countless cops, waving a gun around.

  ‘It’s over, Cardinal.’

  Harry pulled open his shirt, revealing the mic taped to his chest. Cardinal lashed out with his gun, catching Harry in the side of the head. Black spots bloomed across his vision. The top of the water tower skewed out of view as his head lurched, and he stumbled and fell.

  ‘Truss ’em up,’ Cardinal said.

  Heathy hesitated. ‘Boss. We’re surrounded.’

  Cardinal turned the gun on him. ‘I said truss them up!’ Heathy pushed Jess down on the water tower and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a cable tie and secured her hands in front of her. Then he strode across the tower and secured Harry’s hands behind him. Jess was crying. Harry felt rage bloom inside him. He saw Jess but he also saw Kyla. A blue, shimmering mirage. The tattoos pulsing off her body like an aura.

  Cardinal turned his head to the skies and howled.

  ‘How? How, how, how.’ He walked to Harry and slammed his shoe against Harry’s face, mashing his lips against the steel. Harry grunted and spat blood. ‘How does some shit-stain from the fucking Chronicle do this? Tell me! I killed them all! Left that fucking tattooist a vegetable. There were no loose ends! How, Harry? How!

  ‘Tell me, and I’ll kill you quick.’

  ‘There are cops everywhere, Cardinal,’ Harry said, but the wind whipped away his words. Cardinal leant down.

  ‘What’s that, Harry?’

&nbs
p; Cardinal rolled him over onto his back, straddled him.

  ‘Cops. . . everywhere.’

  ‘Oh yeah, but they’ll dick around for ages down there. No air support tonight. No snipers – we’re at the highest point in the inner west. Thunder to disguise the gunshots. Plenty of time to have some fun with you and your lady friend. Just like we did with Rob and Kyla. I’m gonna kill you fuckers. . . again, and then I’m going to blow my brains out.’

  Lightning raged across the sky, thunder roaring almost simultaneously, so loud Harry felt it in his chest. Cardinal yanked the microphone off Harry’s chest and cast it aside.

  ‘It was Rob, wasn’t it? These fucking tattoos,’ Cardinal said. He jabbed his pistol into one of them.

  ‘I told the boys to get rid of all the tattoos,’ he yelled. ‘Didn’t I, Heathy? Did they do what they were fucking told? No, of course not. Hard to get good fucking help. For identification purposes. You know, in case the body was found. But after. . .’ he looked up into the storm, then back at Harry, ‘I realised it was more than that.’

  ‘Because of your dad.’

  ‘At first I thought he was going loopy-loo. Then he strung himself up. I thought it died with him. Some kind of revenge mojo. Eye for an eye, and all that.’

  Lightning struck at the end of the street. Thunder so loud it rattled the ground. Cardinal whooped. Heathy peered over his shoulder, away from Jess, watching in horror as the street continued to fill with police.

  ‘Oh well,’ Cardinal said. ‘It ends now.’ He put the gun down and pulled the knife out. Harry saw what was coming and tried to buck him off, but he was too tired, his back too sore. Cardinal grinned. He opened the blade, grabbed a patch of Harry’s inked skin and started sawing. Harry screamed.

  Harry heard a low growling noise. Cardinal looked up. Jess, her body wreathed in an electric blue corona. She sprang and landed on him, knocking him off Harry and sending the gun skittering off the side of the water tower. The tattoos burned through her clothes, sending wisps of smoke into the air.