by Nick Place
Stig chose a phone box near the Carlton Library, across the road from La Porchetta pizza. He glanced up and down the street, adjusted his sunglasses in the weak morning sunshine, slotted the coin, checked the number on the torn piece of paper and dialled.
‘Barry Paxton.’
‘You’ve sold us out, you prick.’
‘What? Stig? What are you saying?’
‘You were seen yesterday. Speaking long and hard with two of Jenssen’s enforcers. You’ve sold us out.’
Barry’s breathing came down the phone. ‘Oh Christ, you gave me a heart attack. Bloody hell, Stig.’
‘You’re a dead man, Paxton.’
‘Shut it, will you. I haven’t sold anybody out, you dumb bastard. The deal is sweet.’
Now it was Stig’s turn to breathe into the receiver. ‘Explain.’
‘Of course they came to see me. Jenssen has worked out the car crash was a fake. He knows you’ve run, with the gear. He’s putting feelers out everywhere. I had to see them. What would it have said if I hadn’t met them?’
Stig found himself glancing sideways, trying to look everywhere at once. Half-expecting to see a white Ford right there, and two men walking his way. ‘Where are they now?’
‘No idea. Probably heading to Adelaide. Jenssen has already checked Sydney and Brisbane. They put in more time here because it’s your home town.’
‘So we need to move. What’s your answer, Barry?’
‘It’s on. I’m going to have to sit on the shipment for a long time, now Jenssen’s looking. I want a discount.’
‘A discount? What is this? The Boxing Day sales?’
‘Call it danger money then. Or just leave it. I don’t need this grief either.’
‘No, but you like the idea of a royalty-free collect, hey, Barry?’
‘As long as you disappear, as you’ve promised, after.’
‘Oh, we’ll be gone. Don’t worry. The Wild Man is very antsy as it is. When should we meet?’
‘Your place? What’s your address?’
‘Yeah, right, Barry. And you won’t cum in my mouth. How about midnight tonight, in the Groc-o-Mart car park?’
‘Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll have to get the money though.’
‘Fucking make sure you do, Barry. I’ll phone this afternoon to check. This needs to happen now.’
‘Just you and me tonight,’ Barry said. ‘Keep that gorilla mate of yours clear.’
‘I’m not turning up alone, but he can sit in the car. And Barry?’
‘Yeah?’
‘If one nasal hair of mine smells something that’s not kosher, you’re very dead.’
‘You’re a lovely guy to do business with, Stig.’
‘I’m a careful guy. Speaking of which, do not say a word about anything to do with Queensland in front of that helper of yours.’
‘What helper?’
‘Jake.’
‘Jake Murphy?’ Barry’s voice was pure confusion. ‘What the fuck has he got to do with anything?’
‘Just keep an eye on him and remember silence is golden. I’ll confirm you’ve got the money sorted later this afternoon and then see you tonight.’ Stig hung up and walked fast away from the phone box, still looking around the street, jittery as hell. He should probably get some breakfast but God, what he really needed was a joint.
In Heidelberg, Barry Paxton loosened his tie slightly and dialled a new number.
A voice said, ‘Yep.’
‘Brunetti? Paxton. I just heard from Anderson.’
***
‘You’re not listening to me,’ Laver said. He and Flipper were standing in front of Ned Kelly. At least, the famous bushranger’s bullet-pocked iron armour in a glass case, high up above the reading room of the State Library: a permanent exhibit that didn’t attract many tourists early in the day. At 10 am, Laver was in full bike gear, just started on a day shift, and Dolfin was in his usual immaculate dark suit but looking like he hadn’t slept for days.
‘Cecy made some calls. Two men, Stig Anderson and Colin Wilde, were both presumed dead although not formally identified in a fatal,’ Laver continued. ‘Killed and burned beyond recognition in a car crash near Nimbin. Their driver’s licences miraculously just clear of the flames. And now two guys of exactly their description are walking the streets of Fitzroy and Collingwood. They’re not dead, Flipper. They’re down here and they’re trying to sell drugs to the owner of the Heidelberg Groco-Mart. My informant overheard the actual deal taking place.’
‘Your informant being a nerdy check-out kid with the hots for a hippie chick who, last we saw, was up close and personal with one of your zombie drug-dealers.’
‘He heard what he heard. And I’ve seen what I’ve seen, which includes a couple of guys following Anderson and Wilde around. A couple of guys who I might add sound extraordinarily similar to the men you described walking into the airport taxi rank from outside the airport.’
Dolfin snorted. ‘Medium height, in grey suits, with dark hair, no decent look at their faces? Yeah, unmistakably the same blokes.’
‘Flipper, I know you’re still snaky on me after what happened when we fronted Stig in such a half-arsed way but think about it. Thirsk was sniffing around and he ended up dead. These guys are hooked into a major drug ring and faked their own deaths. Jake and Lou are in danger, plus I’ve got these dickheads knowing where I live. This thing could go up any moment. Mate … I’m making our call. I’m saying this is nuclear.’
And that’s when Flipper lost it. ‘Fuck you, Rocket,’ he said loudly, then remembered the library rules. He hissed, ‘This is not nuclear. This is nowhere near nuclear. You and I invented “nuclear” for within situations. When you’re moments from being shot, in a siege situation, then you can yell nuclear. With bullets flying. In genuine fear for your life. When immediate action is required, no questions asked. It was not created to force me, a mate, your last surviving bloody mate in the Force, to risk my career chasing your increasingly tiring stupid and wild theories.’
They stood, five metres apart, mutually fuming.
Laver finally said, quietly, ‘Okay. Fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said nuclear. But shit, Flipper, you don’t know the frustration of not being listened to, of not being respected, even by you.’
‘Mate, I do—’
‘No you don’t. You fucking don’t. I’ve laid this out for you as plainly as I can and you won’t even run the names Anderson or Wilde through a computer to see that yes, they are dead men mysteriously alive and a long way from their former home, with mysterious products they’re trying to sell. What will it take? You want Jake or Lou to do a Thirsk before you’ll believe? Pick me up in the middle of the night to go and ID one of these innocent kids? Or, better, you want that big gorilla turning up at my place when Mrs Macleod happens to be asleep in front of the tellie and I’m not ready for him?’
‘You don’t have evidence, Rocket. You’ve grabbed a bunch of strands and built a hypothesis. You only know Wilde’s name because you had a known perp pickpocket him. Christ.’
‘How did he know where I live, mate? Come on, Flip. Just answer me that. How the fuck could a gorilla like Wilde turn up at my home?’
‘That is strange,’ Flipper nodded. ‘But he may have followed you.’
‘I wouldn’t spot a tail, after all these years? And somebody as distinctive as that?’
‘As distinctive as you say he is. Nobody else has seen him.’
Laver wanted to belt his mate over the head with Ned’s helmet. It looked heavy. ‘Seriously? Except Lou, who is scared of him. And Jake, who is terrified of him. And the guys in the Ford, who are following him.’
‘You believe.’
‘Yes, I believe. Oh and Cecy, who’s a good cop. And a usedcar salesman who may or may not be eating solids again by now, after being woken from an induced coma.’
‘Unsolved. Again, only according to you.’
‘Yes, with my previously respected cop instincts t
hat are completely redundant, apparently.’
‘We caught that serial rapist that time because he went to the same general store as that Soggie.’
That stopped Laver cold. ‘What?’
Flipper said, ‘Remember? Lacey or whatever that guy’s name was. We were looking everywhere for him, had an entire taskforce devoted to the job for three months, and then Tiny, a Soggie from a few years back, saw him in the same queue at his local shop, waiting to buy milk and bread.’
‘What the fuck?’
‘I’m saying, the gorilla could have found you like that. Sheer luck.’
‘Mate, somebody within the Force told him my address.’
‘You think,’ Flipper said. ‘You choose to believe. Fuck it, mate, I’m sorry. You just won’t let it go. But I can.’
‘Flipper, if you don’t believe me now, if you won’t help me, I honestly don’t know what to do. It means I’m totally abandoned as a cop, and by you. Shit Flipper, by you!’
‘Then see a counsellor and stop being a cowboy.’
Dolfin’s phone made a low buzz, vibrating. He checked it and looked at his mate.
‘I’ve got to go. The real world is calling. And don’t ever call nuclear on me again, unless it really is. Because you know what will happen if you pull that stunt again?’
‘What?’
Dolfin gave him a long heavy look and said, ‘I’ll be cross.’
‘Flipper, we’re not done with this.’
‘I am, mate. I totally am,’ Dolfin said.
And walked away.
***
Wildie put down the Xbox controller, his hangover fading, and looked with something approaching disgust at Stig Anderson: sprawled, legs askew, on the couch and smoking his third joint of the day. Before lunch.
‘Good plan, brains. We just sit here until they kill us. Get a little high while we wait.’
‘Steady, Wildie. Everything’s in order.’
‘Which is why you’re smoking yourself to some kind of oblivion.’
‘The deal is done. Midnight tonight. Heidelberg. My head will be back in shape by then.’
Wildie’s rough voice sounding almost gentle as he said, ‘Mate, you’re losing it. I’m sorry, but you fucking are. Jenssen’s men are in town and you know who those guys are. We’re blown and that means we’ll be dead.’
Stig waved a vague hand. ‘Paxton got rid of them. Says it’s cool. Deal’s still on.’
‘We have to leave. Now.’
‘Tonight.’ Stig was now waving his hand gently in the joint’s smoke, watching the small clouds twist. ‘We do the deal tonight and then drive right out of here.’
‘Tonight’s a set-up.’
‘Crap.’
‘Paxton hasn’t got the balls to do a deal while Jenssen’s hit men are in town.’
‘Says they’re gone. To Adelaide.’
Wildie snorted.
Stig took another toke. ‘Tonight’s our best chance, mate.’
But the Wild Man stood up, hands on hips. ‘Stig, you’re done. I don’t know when it happened, but it’s happened. You’ve lost it. Is there anybody else you can ring as an emergency back-up plan? Arrange a fire sale price before tonight?’
Alarm and something resembling panic fighting its way to the front of Stig’s addled brain. Wildie watching his stoned partner finally shrug and say, ‘Dunno. Maybe.’
Wildie reaching for the car keys and Stig just managing to raise his head, asking, ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to cover our tracks.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘There are loose ends. There are people who know we’re in town. There are things to be done if we’re going to stay alive. Enough of your sit-on-your-arse way. Stop smoking that shit and turn back on.’
Wildie stalking off to the bedrooms and coming back with two packages wrapped in towels. Unrolling one to reveal a pistol, and handing it to Stig.
‘Given how high you are, try not to shoot yourself to see how pretty the bullet is.’
Stig sitting up straighter now, staring at the gun. ‘What the fuck? Where did you get this?’
‘You mean “these”.’ Wildie unwrapping the second gun and stashing it down the front of his jeans, under his belt, and placing his singlet over it. ‘This shit’s getting real and we need to be able to defend ourselves.’
Stig looking up at him with wide eyes, like a rabbit.
The Wild Man standing, hands on hips, shaking his head in disgust. ‘Wake up, right now, Anderson. Hit the phones and do a deal that doesn’t involve this Paxton bloke. If it’s a crap deal for less than we should take, who gives a shit? I’d rather be alive. Do the deal and then we’re going. This is not a debate. I’ll be back in a bit.’
And he was out of there. Slamming the door and stalking to the latest car, a red Holden ute, very powerful, parked illegally on Rathdowne Street. The Wild Man in control at last and feeling better for it. Clear in his mind. He fired up the car, listening to the rumble of the engine, and decided the first stop was the Groc-o-Mart. The little cop-dog assistant manager. Then to Friends of the Planet to pick up Stig’s little hippie cutie. Wildie wanted to make sure she was second on the list. That part of what he had to do he planned to have time to enjoy.
Jake finished lunch, his standard ham sandwich at his desk, with a Big M chocolate milk to wash it down, and looked out the window of his office at the car park. A white Ford was parked midway back, two men sitting side by side, behind dark glasses.
Jake could feel his heart start to pump. He reached for his phone, found Laver’s number and dialled.
Laver was sitting in the Mobile Public Interaction Squad office with Cecy, contemplating asking if she’d like a lunchtime beer, thinking she’d frown, and picked up on the second ring.
‘They’re here.’
‘Who’s here? Jake, is that you?’
‘It’s me. I’m at work. Those two men. They’re here. They’ve got to be here for me.’
‘Mate, calm down. Where are they? In their car?’
‘Yes. Watching the door. What do I do?’
‘Stay put. I’ll be there inside fifteen minutes with another officer.’
Cecy’s eyebrows raised as Laver put the phone down. ‘Would that be me?’
‘Yep. The one day I decide to ride the bike to the office. I need you to drive me. I’ll explain on the way. But first, let’s lose the lycra. You might be about to meet some real criminals. Best not to look like a couple of noobs.’
***
Cecy pulled into the car park and they spotted the Ford immediately. With Laver directing, she parked two rows back, three cars to the side. Out of the range of the Ford’s mirrors. The men would have to turn their heads to see them.
Laver was already dialling. ‘Jake? We’re here. You good?’
Jake’s voice, sounding shrill, said: ‘Just a moment.’ Then distant, as though his hand was covering his phone. ‘Yes, sir?’
Laver listened to a muffled voice, heard Jake say, ‘Okay, sure,’ and finally had Jake back on the line, whispering.
‘That was Barry, my boss. He said a couple of guys are about to be here for a meeting in his office and he is not to be disturbed. Definitely do not disturb. Could it be them?’
‘Dunno. Let’s get you out of there, either way.’
Laver had the door open and one leg out when Cecy put a hand on his arm and said: ‘Rocket.’
He followed her gaze and saw a blue Commodore, rental sticker on the back window. A deeply suntanned man, wiry but well dressed, in sunglasses, his long hair pushed back from his forehead, getting out of the car. The men in the Ford sat up straighter, gave him their full attention.
Laver got back in the car and slid down in his seat. ‘Who the fuck is that?’
‘Did you catch the slight nod to the Ford?’ Cecy said.
‘Oh yes, I did.’ Laver put both hands over his mouth and breathed into them for a moment. ‘You know who this guy is? He’s the boss.�
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‘How could you possibly know that?’
‘I just know. The Ford crew work for him. You watch. Shit.’
Laver thought hard for a few seconds. ‘Have you got a Dictaphone?’
‘No. Jesus, Laver. A Dictaphone?’
‘Okay, show me your phone. Now!’
Cecy handed her mobile over, thinking yet again that this was the strangest cop she’d ever met.
Laver’s eyes had a new look in them. A hard gleam. He was dialling his phone, even as the tanned man walked over to the Ford, leaned in to talk through the driver’s window.
‘Jake? It’s Laver. Okay, you have to move fast and I promise I’ll get you out of there safely. Don’t say anything, don’t argue, don’t debate. Just do what I tell you. Got it?’
‘Okay.’
‘Where’s your boss?’
‘Barry? He’s just leaving his office. Heading downstairs.’
‘Take your phone, and don’t hang up this call, whatever you do. Go into his office right now, and leave the phone somewhere not obvious – but on speakerphone so it will pick up the conversation.’
‘Wha—’
‘I said don’t debate.’
‘But it’s a brand-new iPhone.’
‘Good, it’s definitely got speakerphone then. I’ll get you a new phone if I have to.’ Laver calm, so Jake would be too. ‘Do it now, then head to the toilet and wait until you know they’re all in his office. Then go straight to your car and drive to the Clifton Hill McDonald’s. Where Queens Parade and Heidelberg Road split. You know it?’
‘Yes. But listen, Detective Laver, I don’t think I …’
Laver watched the doors of the white Ford open.
‘Jake, there’s no time. Things are happening and the pair from the Ford is on the move. Do it now. Do not leave the McDonald’s until I get there. And don’t hang up this call. Barry’s office now! … GO!’
Cecy watched Laver switch his own handset to mute and then to speakerphone. The sound of Jake breathing hard filled the car. They heard a door open, winced as something banged loudly against the phone, heard a rustle, then Jake hissing: ‘It’s set.’ Then silence.