Melinda snorted.
‘What did this person say?’ said Bert.
‘He said Harry would be unharmed if we did what they say.’
‘Which is?’
‘First of all, no cops.’
‘Standard kidnapping line,’ said Goldsworthy. ‘We should still bring ’em in.’
‘Except the cops in this town are leaking information like a sieve,’ I said.
‘What else?’ said Bert, to Tasso.
‘That they’ll be in touch with their demands. I’ll be able to speak to Harry then.’ He shook his head. ‘Jesus, the poor little guy, he must be scared shitless.’ Melinda let out a sob, and Barry, who was sitting next to her, rubbed her arm in sympathy. She looked at him as if he was a paedophile.
‘I suggest you return to your suite,’ said Appleyard, to Melinda. ‘I’ll have some food brought up to you.’
‘I can’t eat,’ said Melinda. Her voice was almost a wail.
‘Perhaps you would like me to send the masseuse instead?’
‘Yes, a massage would be nice.’ She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
‘Why not a pedicure and a sauna as well?’ said Tasso.
‘Don’t be a bastard,’ said Melinda. ‘It’s not my fault he’s been kidnapped.’
Appleyard helped her to her feet and guided her out of the room. Before she left she turned on us with a final spurt of anger. ‘Just get him back.’
‘Appleyard has finally done something useful,’ said Tasso, after they had gone. ‘Got her out of my fucken hair.’
‘Can you find any footage of Fern coming into the hotel?’ said Bert. ‘Let’s look at the lobby tape.’ He tapped the screen, still paused on Fern and Harry. ‘Go backwards from here.’
Barry used the mouse to reverse the footage at about double normal speed. It didn’t take long: Fern had walked through the front entrance of the hotel and across the lobby only a few minutes before she had carried Harry out.
‘How did she know where to go?’ said Tasso. ‘How did she even know Harry was in day-care?’
‘Someone must have told her,’ I said.
‘She wasn’t working alone,’ said Barry.
40
We went up to Tasso’s suite. We waited several hours not speaking much, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I spent a long time staring through the newly replaced window, which was startlingly clear. I thought about the tape from Hardcastle’s office I had listened to and what bearing it had on anything. Perhaps none. Tasso wasn’t in a mood for talking, so I didn’t talk to him. He seemed paralysed by fear for his boy. At four, Appleyard reported that Melinda had taken a sedative and was sleeping. He brought food, but I didn’t feel much like eating.
‘Better eat while you can,’ Bert said to me. ‘We might be busy later.’
Tasso’s phone rang a couple of times in the afternoon but they were false alarms. The third time, at about half past five, it was the kidnappers. We had decided against trying to monitor the conversation, so we just had Tasso’s responses to go by.
‘Fine, you’re clever,’ he said. ‘Of course I didn’t.’ He was keeping his temper, but his face was hard with tension and concentration. ‘Let me speak to Harry … Now? Goldsworthy, Parker, West and me … No, they can’t. Let me speak to … Okay, fine. Yes.’ Then his face, which had been so stiff, transformed into something loving and gentle, and his voice became lovey-dovey. ‘Hello, Harry, it’s dada … That’s right. How’s my little boy?’ Then, just as quickly, his face disfigured into a snarl and his voice became thin and hard. ‘If you harm him …’ He listened for what seemed like ages, and he seemed to age as he did so. The skin on his face slackened and turned grey. He nodded. ‘Yes, I get it.’ He disconnected and looked at nothing for a moment and made an effort to compose himself. Then he looked at us.
‘What do they want?’ said Bert.
‘Five million dollars.’
‘Five million dollars?’
Tasso nodded and sneered. ‘Small-time crooks, that’s all they are. I have that much in cash accounts. I’ll withdraw it first thing tomorrow. The drop-off is tomorrow afternoon. They’ll let us know where and when.’
‘So you’re just going to pay up?’ Bert was staring hard at Tasso.
‘Do I have a choice?’ Tasso stared equally hard back at him, and then at Goldsworthy and me. Goldsworthy shook his head.
‘You can spare the money. It might be best.’
‘We don’t know anything about these people,’ said Bert. ‘Except that they used Fern. They’re clever. Tell us what they said.’
Tasso said, ‘The first thing they said was, “You’ve been good, you didn’t contact the police. We will know if you do.” Then they asked who was here with me and I told them. They put Harry on, and then they said they wanted five million dollars and they would contact me tomorrow about the drop-off.’ Tasso stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and stood aside. He still looked haggard. ‘Thank you for your help, gentlemen. I’d better start organising the money. Let’s meet back here tomorrow morning at,’ he looked superfluously at his watch, ‘say, 8 am.’ The three of us stood to leave. ‘Steve,’ said Tasso, ‘can you hang around a minute?’
‘Sure.’
After Bert and Goldsworthy had left, Tasso grabbed two beers from the fridge and gave one to me. ‘I lied about the phone conversation,’ he said. ‘I was told to. They wanted me to get rid of Bert and Goldsworthy. They don’t want five million dollars.’
‘What do they want?’
‘Me.’
‘Shit.’
‘And you.’
‘They want us both? For what?’
‘They didn’t say, but I don’t think it’s for anything pleasant.’
‘What do they want us to do?’
‘We’ve got to go to some bar. After that, I have no idea.’
‘We’re not stupid enough to fall for that, are we?’
‘The problem is,’ said Tasso, ‘they have Harry.’
‘So we’re just going to walk into their trap.’
‘They didn’t want me to tell you all this, they wanted me to just bring you along. If I don’t bring you with me, they’ll shoot Harry.’
‘When is all this supposed to happen?’
Tasso looked at his watch. ‘Now. We’ve got to be at a bar on Hindley Street at six. That’s in fifteen minutes.’
‘You realise we’re dead men?’
‘It’s possible. But what can we do?’
‘Tell Bert.’
‘They said no backup. Any sign we’re being followed and Harry is dead. No phones, either.’
‘I still think we should tell Bert. He’s smart. They won’t know he’s tracking us.’
‘If it was just you and me, Steve, I’d agree. But they’ve got Harry. I’m just going to do what they say.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘I’ve got to swallow.’
I had almost finished my beer. ‘Got anything stronger than this?’
Tasso opened a bottle of scotch and poured us both healthy slugs. We clinked glasses, but the sound was dead. ‘We’ll get through this,’ I said.
‘Yeah.’
We arrived at the bar in Hindley Street a couple of minutes late. I had left my sling at the hotel, and my shoulder was hurting. It was a seedy place, and standing at the bar was Numbat, looking mean and as if he would like nothing better than to knife someone, especially me, or chew some faces off.
‘You’re late,’ he said. ‘Next time, there won’t be a next time.’ He pushed a button on a phone and handed it to Tasso.
Tasso put it to his ear. ‘Yeah,’ was all he said. He handed the phone back to Numbat. ‘Got it,’ he said to me.
‘Don’t be late,’ said Numbat.
‘What a shame you survived the shootout at Truro,’ I said.
Numbat grinned and showed me his tongue. ‘See you later,’ he said. We walked to a taxi stand and took a cab to the entertainment centre on Port Road. The car park was emptying; commuters used it dur
ing the day so they could ride the tram for the last few kilometres into the city, and now they were heading home. ‘We have to catch the 7.05 back through the city,’ said Tasso.
‘These guys are dicking us around.’
‘And we stay on it and head to Glenelg. We’ll be told when to get off.’
Tasso and I took our seats and looked out the window at the dimming street. We were silent as the tram stopped on King William Street and filled with workers heading out of the city and home for the evening.
‘The world is full of dicks, Steve,’ said Tasso. ‘But you’re a good guy.’
‘You getting sentimental?’
‘No, just being honest. Thanks for standing by me.’
‘What else did you think I would do?’ There was a lull. ‘Why are we friends, Tasso?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean we don’t have much in common. You’re rich, I’m middle-class. You like eighteen-year-old girls, that’s not my go. You’re the life of the party, I prefer to sit in a dark corner. It’s always puzzled me why we’re friends.’
‘Mutual respect, that’s all.’
After a while I said: ‘Do you mind if I say something sentimental?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘We’ve had fun.’
‘Yeah.’
Just before Morphettville Racecourse, half a dozen stops from Glenelg, there was a voice in my ear.
‘Don’t look round. Get off here.’
I caught Tasso’s eye. ‘This is us,’ I said. He nodded. I wasn’t sure how alert he was anymore. He looked defeated. I had never seen him so morose. He had plenty of reason, I supposed, and maybe I looked just as glum. I had a deep dread for what lay ahead. We left the tram and stood on the side of the street. The passengers who had alighted with us hopped into their cars or walked off along the footpath, and soon it was just the dusky street and us. The man who had spoken to me on the tram might not even have got off. The darkening sky was smeared with red. A car approached, headlights on, moving slowly. It stopped next to us. It was a Mercedes and looked a lot like Harlin’s car. The rear window lowered.
‘Get in,’ said a familiar voice.
41
I opened the door and went in first. ‘Hello, Coy,’ I said. He was on the far side of the back seat, grinning at us. His hand was gripping his big silver pistol, which was wearing its long black suppressor like an evening tie. Tasso followed me in and closed the door. The car moved off. I looked to see who was driving. I wasn’t surprised, but Tasso was.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ he said.
Jenny, Hiskey’s mother-in-law, didn’t reply. She negotiated a couple of corners and pulled into the racecourse grounds through a gate that should have been locked. No one was around. She parked the car and turned to us. There was enough natural light to see her eyes. They were bright with adrenalin, or something.
‘Do what you need to do, Peter,’ she said to Coy.
‘What are you doing, Jenny?’ said Tasso.
‘Taking what’s mine.’
‘Where’s Harry?’
‘Harry’s safe, don’t worry.’
‘I want to see him.’
‘You will. We haven’t harmed a curly hair on his little head. Yet.’
Coy had shoved his pistol between his legs and produced two plasticuffs. He put one on me and pulled it tight. Then he fastened the other to Tasso’s wrists, looping it through mine so that Tasso and I were bound together at the wrists. Coy produced a scanning wand.
‘You wouldn’t be stupid enough to have brought a gun or a phone or a transmitter with you, would you?’ he said. ‘Get out.’
I grabbed Tasso’s wrists to keep us steady as we extricated ourselves from the car. It was still a pleasant evening outside. A plane flew in low overhead, its landing gear down and navigation lights on, its passengers no doubt enjoying the view of a staid and strangely tortured city in the last of its light. Coy waved his wand over us from top to bottom and then hand-frisked us for good measure.
‘How come you weren’t in Truro this morning?’ I said. ‘You missed the shootout.’
‘I haven’t been there for days. I had other things to do.’
Tasso and I were facing each other, compelled to do so because of the cuffs. He was staring into the middle distance. I couldn’t catch his eye.
‘This guy is a weak shit,’ I said to him, nodding at Coy. Tasso made an effort to focus on me and didn’t succeed. ‘He’s a mummy’s boy. Look at his girlfriend. A big fat mummy substitute.’
Coy hit me in the side with his fist. It hurt. I staggered and doubled over. Tasso held me up.
‘I’m going to have fun with you, West, before the end,’ said Coy. He spoke to Jenny through the window. ‘They’re clean, darl.’
‘Let’s go then.’
‘Take off your shoes and get back in the car,’ Coy said to us.
We did as we were told. Coy picked up the shoes, put them in the car boot and joined us in the back seat.
‘Where’s Harry, Jenny?’ said Tasso again.
Jenny started the engine. ‘We’re going there now.’
We drove to a modest, freestanding house in Glenelg. Jenny used a remote to open the garage door and we drove in. The door slid down behind us.
She led us into the living room, carrying a briefcase. Tasso and I walked side by side, our hands clasped together in front of us and negotiating our steps so we didn’t trip each other. In another situation it might have been funny; even then it occurred to me that we were almost doing the tango. Coy followed behind, smirking and holding his silver pistol with its long black suppressor. He was carrying a sports bag. The living room lights were blazing and the curtains were drawn. On the floor, playing with an aluminium saucepan, was Harry, and next to him was Fern, pretending to drink from a toy plastic cup. They looked up as we entered. Fern’s face was heavy with fear. Coy closed the door behind us. Tasso fell to his knees, and I fell to mine.
‘Harry,’ he said. He held out his hands, and mine followed.
‘Dada,’ said Harry. He jumped to his feet and ran over. Then he looked at me and had second thoughts, and stopped. He eyes were as big as teacups. ‘It’s okay, Harry,’ said Tasso. Harry came on. Together, Tasso and I put our arms over Harry’s head, and somehow Tasso managed to hug him. Harry’s face was buried in Tasso’s chest, so all I could see was a mass of curly dark hair attached to a tiny body. He was wearing a blue T-shirt and a disposable nappy, which, to my unpractised eye, looked pretty full. Harry finished his hugging and broke away. He ran back to his kitchen set and poured an imaginary fluid from his saucepan into a cup, talking to himself in his own language. Fern watched him. He carried the cup to Tasso, carefully so the imaginary liquid wouldn’t spill. He offered it to Tasso with a serious face, and Tasso accepted it with a smile.
‘Thank you, Harry.’ He pretended to sip. ‘It’s good.’ Harry beamed.
‘That’s a very touching scene,’ said Jenny. She grabbed Harry’s hand and led him back to Fern. ‘Keep him quiet,’ she told her. She put her briefcase on the table.
Fern was wearing the same simple, knee-length dress she had been wearing when she had taken Harry from the hotel. She was sitting crookedly on the floor with her legs doubled up beneath her. Her feet were bare, but around her left ankle was a black, hard-leather strap, like something you would see on a kinky website. Secured to the strap was a meaty chain that ran along the floor and was fixed with a padlock to a wall-mounted electric heater. She looked like she wanted to vomit. She handed Harry her cup.
‘More please,’ she said, forcing a certain amount of life into her voice.
‘What have you done?’ Tasso said to her. His voice was soft but venomous. She looked at him at last.
‘I’m so sorry, Tasso,’ she said.
‘You’re sorry? You stole a little boy from his mother and handed him to these two psychos’—he gestured at Jenny and Coy—‘and you’re sorry?’ Jenny was sitting at the table
with a grim face. She opened her briefcase and took out a laptop.
‘I was so angry with you, Tasso,’ said Fern. Her face was flushed. ‘You hurt me more than you will ever know. All these years.’ She smeared tears across her face with an angry sweep of her hand. ‘All these fucken years.’
‘Yeah, well it’s been a fucken waste of time for both of us. And look at us now.’
‘I’m scared, Tasso.’
‘Don’t blame me.’
‘I do blame you. You don’t understand, do you?’
‘I don’t want to understand, Fern. This isn’t the time.’
‘When would be a good time?’
‘Shut the fuck up, both of you,’ said Coy. ‘There won’t ever be a good time.’
‘Let them talk, Peter,’ said Jenny, who was waiting for her computer to boot up. ‘I’m finding it quite entertaining.’
‘You wouldn’t let me go, Tasso,’ said Fern.
‘Drop it,’ said Tasso.
‘No, I won’t drop it.’ Her chin was quivering. ‘You wouldn’t let me have a life, Tasso. You gave me things, you gave me jewellery, you paid for everything. You’re very generous with money. But all I wanted was you, for myself, and a fucken family.’ She changed positions. Now she was kneeling. ‘I’m not stupid. I realised a long time ago that those were the two things you would not give me. But you couldn’t give me away, either, you couldn’t let me go. I tried to leave and you wouldn’t let me. You had to own me. And then I find out you’ve got a son.’ Harry had given up brewing tea, or whatever it was, and was staring at Fern with his huge eyes. She gave him a deep, infinitely sad look. Then she picked him up and hugged him. He looked scared. ‘You cannot imagine the pain I felt,’ she said to Tasso. ‘The pain I feel. And he’s so … he’s so beautiful.’ She hiccupped three or four sobs. Harry struggled to free himself and eventually she released him. He wanted to run to Dada, but Fern held his arm. He started crying, too.
‘Jesus, what is this?’ said Coy to Jenny. ‘A fucken creche? Do we have to listen to this?’ He waved his gun in the general direction of Fern and Harry. ‘Shut the fuck up, both of you. Settle him down or I’ll shoot him,’ he said to Fern.
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