Challis - 01 - Dragon Man (15 page)

Im fine.

No, youre not. Its not weak to
admit your back needs adjusting.

Look, Murph, why dont you just
rack off, okay?

He saw her slump against her door. Suit
yourself.

A car shot out of a side street, BMW
sports, going like a bat out of hell.

Tankard chortled. Okay, dickrash,
lets see how you like this, and he activated the siren and planted his foot.

As they drew closer, a lazy hand
appeared, giving them the finger, and the BMW twitched under heavy acceleration
and drew rapidly away.

Oh, mate, will I have you for
breakfast.

Beside him, Pam Murphy was sitting
intensely, peering ahead, her hands on the dash. Careful, Tank.

Careful? You dont chase someone
carefully.

Just watch where youre going.

The BMW sped away from Waterloo,
heading south-west, inland from the coast. Tankard didnt want to lose him. The
Peninsula was stitched together with narrow roads and lanes, where there was no
lighting, only shadowy driveways and screening trees and hundreds of access
gates.

Then they did lose him. They were on
Tubbarubba Road when the BMW vanished. Slow down, Pam Murphy said. I saw
something.

What? Where?

Behind that funny building on the
corner.

Automatic telephone exchange,
Tankard said. What did you see?

A light, like someone opened the
door of a car.

Tankard reversed so hard and fast
that the engine howled and the van snaked, leaving rubber on the road. Spot
on. There he is, the cunt.

He parked, switched off, got out. You
wait here. Call the plate in, see if the cars stolen.

He could see that she didnt like
it, but she did as she was told. He approached the BMW, which was parked in
long grass next to a cyclone fence, and shone his torch at the drivers door. Step
out of the car, please, sir.

It was a woman. She was young, and
inclined to totter and giggle. Plenty of blonde hair, including a rope of it
that she was chewing while she looked him over. Legs up to her arse and showing
a bit of tit, too. John Tankard had an image of wealth and privilege disporting
itself while the workers were slogging away. He called, Murph, come here a
minute?

He didnt take his eyes off the
girl. When Pam Murphy was standing next to him he said, This young lady got
out of the drivers seat.

Impossible.

Exactly.

The blonde screwed a look of
bafflement on to her face. What do you mean?

Miss, is there someone with you?

You mean my boyfriend?

Tankard tipped back his head and
called, Sir, would you get out of the car, please?

Pam Murphy edged away, and now she
was staring along the flank of the car, at the passenger seat. She had her hand
on her gun. We dont want any trouble now, sir.

God, lighten up, why dont you?
the blonde said.

They watched the door open. A young
man emerged from the car. Why the strongarm act? he asked.

Pam said, Sir, are you the owner of
this car?

So?

Were you driving it?

No way.

We have reason to believe that you
swapped places with your lady friend.

Are you for real?

Tankard said, Sir, we have reason
to believe that you were driving this car. You were driving above the speed
limit and well be breathalysing you to see if you were driving while under the
influence of alcohol. We also believe that you changed places with your friend
in an effort to escape possible prosecution. Id like to see your licence, please,
sir, and yours, young lady, and ask you both to submit to a breath test.

Come off it! You bloody coppers dont
know who youre dealing with. Youve made a big mistake this time.

They ignored him. They separated the
couple and took them one at a time to the van for a breath test. When Tankard
had the woman alone he said, You could make it easy on yourself.

How do you mean?

You give me something, I give you
something.

She said nothing, but her eyes
narrowed, waiting for more.

Whats your name?

Cindy Price.

Cindy. Well, Cindy, do you really
want to be booked for drunken driving and making a false statement to police?
Tankard jerked his head. Just to protect some arsehole? Your boyfriend, is he?

Sort of.

Sort of. So you dont feel too
strongly. Thats good. Well, Cindy, were going to have to chuck the book at
someone, so why dont you go easy on yourself. Tell us what really happened,
how he asked you to swap places with him, and Ill see you dont get charged
with anything.

And?

And what?

Is that all?

They were closing in on it now. They
were on the same wavelength. If you wanted a watertight assurance, Cindy, youd
have to do one more thing for me.

She said challengingly, Try me.

He waited a beat. I intend to. He
fished out his notebook. What was the address?

These days, his only way of pulling
a bird. They rejoined the others.

Youll be sorry about this, the
boyfriend said.

He was like the girl, young, drunk,
stamped with privilege. Ill punch you out in a minute, you dont shut up,
Tankard said.

You dont know who youre dealing
with here.

Tankard said to Pam Murphy, Theres
this joke, only its about Porsches, not BMWs, but it still applies. Whats the
difference between a Porsche and a cactus?

With a Porsche, the pricks are on
the inside, Pam said.

* * * *

Nine

hat
are you doing?

Challis had thought she was asleep.
He himself had been asleep, but then hed awoken, and the strangeness of the
bed, the house and the situation had swamped him suddenly, there in the
darkness lit only by the digital display of her bedside clock and a glimmer of
moonlight from behind the curtain that he remembered was heavy, too heavy for
the room, and hed been dragging on his clothes, and was hunting for his shoes,
ready to leave, but shed caught him.

He stretched across the bed and
kissed her. I have to go, Tess.

She stared at him, then looked away.
Id thought wed have breakfast together.

He sat for a while, one hand cupping
her neck until the tendons there told him that she was unrelaxed. He removed
the hand. I couldnt sleep.

She rolled away from him. Fine. Ill
see you around.

Tess

She turned back to him. Hal, its
okay. Im not angry. You feel strange, I understand, so you should go.

Ill see you again.

She kissed him and collapsed onto
her pillow. No talking. Im tired. See you around.

* * * *

Ginger
taught two classes on Saturday mornings. He was able to fit Pam into his ten oclock.
She almost didnt pack the Bolle sunglasses shed bought him, thinking not to
make a fool of herself, but he seemed to pay special attention to her, so she
presented them with a shy flourish at the end of the lesson, when the others
were getting changed and driving off.

Christmas present for you.

He blushed. I didnt get you
anything.

I wouldnt have expected you to.

I wanted to, he said.

Did you?

I thought youd take it the wrong
way.

No, she said.

The colours of the sky and the water
were pink and grey, a typical soft Peninsula beach day. Pam went home in a
pleasant muddle, a tingle on the surface of her skin, but that soon evaporated.
The button was flashing on her answering machine. Sergeant Kellock wanted her
at the station at two oclock and shed better not be late, if she knew what
was good for her.

* * * *

Rhys
Hartnett arrived ten minutes early, just as Ellen was getting back from the
shops with lunch things and the Saturday papers. She dumped everything in the
kitchen and began to show him around the house, apologising for its faults.
Alan trailed suspiciously behind them, asking what was the best way of cooling
it
without
air-conditioning. Ellen knew what that was about: he wanted
to see if Rhys was prepared to give them neutral advice.

Insulation, for a start.

Its already insulated, Alan said.

Have you thought of ceiling fans?

Theyre no good if the airs
already hot.

Blinds? Shutters? Grapevine on a
trellis?

Ellen said, Were clutching at
straws, Rhys, thats obvious. So why dont you finish looking around and give
us a quote.

We cant afford it, Alan said.

Rhys looked inquiringly at Ellen,
who said, It cant hurt to get a quote.

Noisy bloody things.

Its possible to station the main
unit some distance away from your living areas, Rhys said. You wont really
hear anything.

They came to Larraynes bedroom. She
was on her bed, reading, dressed in skimpy shorts and a singlet top. A small
desk fan ruffled her lank hair. Rhys Hartnett flashed her a grin and said, Hi
there. Hot enough for you?

Ellen felt a twinge of pure
jealousy. It surprised her. She watched for her daughters reaction to Hartnett
and was pleased to see a customary scowl. Larrayne flounced out, saying, So
much for privacy in this house.

Ellen rolled her eyes. Sorry, Rhys.
She can be very rude sometimes.

Rude? That? Nah. Ive done quotes
on tax-dodge farms for Brighton society cows who could show your daughter a
thing or two about rude.

* * * *

Challis
had rung the state distributor of Cooper tyres, whod said: I used to be the
only distributor, but these days theres a rip-off merchant selling them in
your neck of the woods, and now he was driving along a side street in Rosebud.
Tyre City covered half a block, an eyesore of stacked tyres, grimy sheds, oily
dirt and dead grass caught in the cyclone perimeter fence, cheap tyres in
letters taller than a man covered the front wall of the main building. When
Challis drove in, and parked to one side, and showed himself, half of the
workforce seemed to melt away into the shadows while the other half stared
hostilely at him. Challis knew that he smelt like a cop. All cops doto those
who have reason to be sniffing for one. Meanwhile the dinrock music,
pressurised air escaping, the hammering of hand toolswas stupefying.

He showed his ID to the man who
emerged from a small, glassed-off office. Are you the boss?

The man nodded. Youre talking to
him.

You sell a brand of tyre called
Cooper?

A cigarette bobbed in the mans
mouth. Might do.

Either you do or you dont.

All right, I do. So what?

Not a common tyre,

Not real common, no.

Not many sales?

The man shrugged. People buy em.

Youd remember it if someone wanted
to fit a set of Coopers?

The man seemed to have oil and
grease deposits on his face, hands and clothing. He was small, shaped like a
barrel, and wore a permanent scowl. Probably not.

Come on. A deal like that would
stand out in a business like this.

The man squared his jaw. Meaning
what, exactly?

Meaning most of your business
consists of selling barely roadworthy tyres to people who drive rustbuckets,
said Challis harshly. I want your undivided attention for a minute.

Mate, I sell all kinds of tyres and
buy all kinds. Blokes in Jags come here, blokes in VWs. I sell truck tyres. I
got tractor tyres out the back. I buy job lots at auction and I buy single
tyres. I buy from other dealers. I buy bankrupt stock. Im an acknowledged
dealer for most of the main brands.

Point taken, point taken, Challis
said. So the only way we can investigate your sales of Cooper tyres is if we
look at your books, is that it? Youd have them recorded, wouldnt you? Im
sure youre the type of bloke who does the right thing by the tax man.

The man shifted uneasily. Bit
behind in me paperwork this month. Take a bit of finding, the office is in a
bit of a mess. Plus, I wouldnt necessarily have the customers names written
on the invoices.

What about car registration
numbers? Surely youd record them on the invoices?

The man scratched his head. Not
always.

An hour later, defeated by the mans
office chaos, Challis returned to Waterloo. As he drove into the car park at
the police station he recognised McQuarries car in the visitors slot and was
tempted to turn around and go out again. He needed a haircut, he hadnt walked
on the beach for weeks, he had Christmas shopping to do.