ThornyDevils (33 page)

Putty Face woke with a slight rumbling in the abdominal region but thought nothing of it. Probably that salad his missus had made for dinner. His missus was always trying to shove rabbit food down his neck. She was always telling him he had to lose weight, he had to be healthy. All it did was upset his bloody guts. He looked at the clock. It was time to do a walk around.

He grabbed his metal torch and headed out into the brisk night. The rumbling in the guts continued, growing in frequency and intensity. By the time he got back to the guard box, the rumbling had turned into a growl. Then it upped another gear. He felt a sudden urgency. He flung open the door and started to run. A bomb was threatening to
explode inside him. He wondered why the toilet was so far away. His putty face lathered with sweat, clutching his guts and holding onto the torch, he ran as hard as his gammy leg could muster. Another injury from another fight.

He dropped the torch and began unbuttoning his trousers, even before he reached the toilet. He threw open the door as he was pulling off his underpants. He turned his arse towards the bowl. Then it happened. It was like a volcano erupting in a confined space. It had sprayed across the walls and floor like a burst water main before Putty Face had the time to prop himself onto the toilet. He sighed with relief as he sat, and it kept flowing. And flowing. The chocolate crackles had definitely worked.

***

Even on a crisp Melbourne night, even as his guts twisted into tight knots with apprehension, Sam couldn’t help but admire the shimmering light that glinted off the water of Port Phillip Bay. It reminded him of winter nights spent camping by the river back at the station, and waking up to throw more wood on the fire. He was homesick. Homesick for his homecountry.

Sam coasted Babs’s battered Holden Commodore sedan up to the high wire gate that secured the O’Leary wharf operation. A guard box stood near the locked gate. Sam noticed that its light was on but he couldn’t see anyone inside. Sam looked at Babs, who seemed relaxed.

‘What about the security guard, Babs?’ Sam asked anxiously.

‘He should be going on an extended break right about now.’

Sam glanced through the small window of the illuminated guard box. Suddenly, a man leapt up and ran out, fumbling with his trousers

‘Putty Face will be indisposed for a while,’ Babs chuckled. ‘Let’s open those locks.’

Sam drove slowly down the row of stacked shipping containers until they reached the blue one.

‘Stop here,’ Babs instructed.

She jumped out and ran to the rear of the car. Sam turned off the engine and followed her. She opened the car boot and retrieved a shopping jeep, about a dozen plastic bags that looked like they contained flour and a forty-five semi-automatic pistol. She pulled a full magazine from her pocket and snapped it into the pistol.

‘What are you doing?’ Sam whispered anxiously as he picked up a pair of bolt cutters. ‘You didn’t tell me about the bloody gun.’

‘Just in case,’ she replied as she tucked it into her jeans. ‘You can put them bolt cutters back in the boot, we won’t need them. I’ve got the keys. Took them out of the safe this arvo.’

‘And you can put back the gun. I don’t want a gun being waved around,’ Sam held out his hand. ‘It’s stressing me out. Please, Babs. I got shot at once. Please.’

‘All right,’ Babs relented, ‘before you have a frigging breakdown on me.’ She leaned in through the passenger window and threw the weapon into the glove box.

They hurried to the door of the shipping container, Babs following Sam with the shopping jeep, its wheels squeaking.

‘Can’t you shut that bloody thing up?’

‘Can you see anyone?’ Babs shook her head. ‘It’s as quiet as a cemetery.’

‘What about the security guard? He could come out at anytime,’ he said as he reached up with the keys.

‘Don’t worry about him,’ Babs smiled as she took a look around. Sam opened the first lock.

‘Tell you about it another time,’ she continued as she removed the lock. ‘Two more and we’re in the money.’

Sam opened the other two locks, and began to peel open the heavy steel door.

‘Honey, we’re home,’ Babs chuckled as she scrambled through the open door first, pulling the jeep in behind her. Sam turned on a torch as they entered. The container was full of pallets of Asian food.

‘Point the torch over there,’ Babs directed. ‘We’re not after frigging Singapore noodles. We want the coffee.’

‘There,’ Sam said as he noticed a small pallet of large tins, stacked two high and wrapped in thick plastic. The tins had labels with Asian lettering and the word ‘Coffee’ emblazoned on them.

Babs tore open the plastic, pulled out a tin and snapped the lid with a screwdriver taken from the shopping jeep. Sam shone the torch into the open container.

‘It’s just coffee,’ Sam remarked.

‘No, its not.’ Babs said as she punched her hand into the coffee grains and removed a plastic bag about the size of her two hands placed together. She held it up to the torchlight. ‘This is pure Asian-grown heroin.’ She placed the bag into Sam’s free hand. ‘This is what a
fortune feels like. Worth more than fucking gold. A dozen bags of this when it reaches the street will be worth ten million dollars.’

‘Holy smoke,’ Sam fingered the bag briefly then handed it back to Babs. ‘It looks like baby powder.’

‘Well, the bags that are going back on the street have baby powder in them, amongst other stuff.’ She took a white bag out of the jeep, shoved it back into the open tin and sealed it. She continued the same substitution process until all the heroin had been exchanged.

‘You keeping all this?’ Sam asked.

‘I fucking wish,’ Babs smiled as she put the last pure bag into the jeep and zipped it shut. ‘I get ten per cent of the street value. Not a bad night’s work, hey?’

‘That’s a million bloody dollars,’ Sam reeled. ‘What’s that even feel like?’

‘Like a life of freedom. Let’s go.’ She turned and headed to the container door.

‘Who gets the rest?’

‘The bloke’s a real mover and shaker. He’s frigging ruthless but he pays well. So we better shake our arses and get out of here. He wants his stuff tonight. We have to drive out to Coburg after this. Don’t forget the locks.’

Babs walked briskly back to the car. Sam closed the door slowly, slipped the three locks back on and sealed them. He met Babs at the back of the car as she was wrestling the shopping jeep into the boot.

‘All those years of putting up with other people’s shit. I’m so excited I want to shout,’ she smiled as she closed the boot.

‘Don’t do that,’ Sam said as he looked anxiously up and down the wharf. ‘Can we get out of here? This place is making me nervous.’ Sam hopped in the driver’s seat alongside Babs.

‘This is where we’re going.’ She pulled a small advertising handout from the glove box and flashed it in front of Sam. He took a quick peek.

‘You’ll have to show me,’ he said as he engaged first gear.

‘No worries.’ Babs wound back the seat and put her feet up on the dashboard. ‘How many stereo shops are there in Coburg?’

She closed her eyes started to hum ‘Eye of the Tiger’ as Sam put his foot on the accelerator. She opened them again when he suddenly slammed on the brakes.

‘What are you doing?’

‘We have company,’ he replied as he slipped the gear stick into neutral and placed his hands on the steering wheel.

Babs sat bolt upright when she saw Tommy O’Leary reaching into the open window of the car to shove a pistol against Sam’s head. She noticed that the pistol had a silencer attached to the barrel.

‘Tommy?’ she gasped. She then felt a pistol being pressed against the side of her head. ‘What are you…’

‘Not expecting us, were you?’ Tommy said softly. ‘A little birdie told us you’d be here. Where’s George, by the way?’

‘On the shitter,’ Babs stammered. ‘I dosed him up on Laxettes.’

‘That’s different,’ Tommy stifled a grin.

‘And don’t forget your dear little Robbie, you traitor slut,’ Robbie snarled. He threw open the door and dragged Babs out of the car with one hand and threw her to the ground. ‘Stay there, bitch,’ he said as he kicked Babs in the back of the head. She cried out in pain.

‘Out of the car,’ Tommy directed Sam.

Sam slowly got out of the car and put his hands in the air.

‘Over by your girlfriend,’ said Tommy. He shoved Sam towards Babs. ‘On the ground. Face down.’

Sam looked at Babs. She was bleeding from the back of her head and sobbing. ‘You don’t have to hurt her,’ he pleaded as he sat on his knees.

‘Lie down,’ Tommy snarled and pushed him down. Sam dropped onto his face. He could feel blood seeping from his mouth. He spat it out onto the cold, cement wharf. ‘You’re in no position to bargain, Abo.’

‘You’re beyond hurting, Babs,’ Robbie said as he kicked her in the
head again. ‘I hope you know some prayers. Isn’t that what people say before they’re executed?’

Babs sobbed louder.

‘Of all the people who you’d think would stab us in the back,’ Tommy said sadly as he hovered over a prostrate Sam with a pistol. ‘I would never have guessed it would be you, Babs. You were like a member of the family. And you’ve shit on us from a great height.’

‘What a big fucking mess you nearly caused. Bitch!’ Robbie ranted as he delivered another kick, this time in Babs’s back.

‘And very clever. Substituting the good stuff with shit. A nice retirement nest-egg. Killed some of our best customers,’ Tommy added.

‘I only did it because I was forced to,’ she turned her head and looked up towards Tommy. ‘They said they’d kill me. Please, Tommy. Believe me. You’re the sensitive one. Please believe me.’

‘Who’s they? Donarto?’

‘I can’t say. I know I’m going to die but if he finds out I dobbed he’ll kill Buddy for sure.’

‘Tell us, you stinking whore!’ Robbie reached down and grabbed the back of Babs’s hair and smashed her head into the concrete. A stream of blood gushed from a laceration in her forehead.

‘I’m not telling. And I’m not afraid to fucking die,’ she cried, ‘but I want Buddy to live.’

‘So maternal of you, Babs. Here’s is the plan.’ Tommy leaned down on one knee and spoke gently. ‘If you don’t tell us, we’re going to kill you and Sam. You probably know that by now. We’ll throw you in the family cabin cruiser, take you out past the heads and dump you. We can’t let you live. Just can’t. You see that, don’t you?’ He stood upright again. ‘So if you’re not going to tell us, we’ll have no choice. No choice at all.’ He paused to scratch his face and nodded to Robbie.

‘Please let my grandson live. He wasn’t part of it,’ Babs begged.

‘We won’t touch him,’ Tommy replied in a soft reassuring voice.

‘It’s praying time, Babs,’ Robbie snarled. He put the pistol to the back of her head and pulled her up to her knees. ‘You may as well be in a kneeling position, like church.’

‘Sorry, Sam,’ Babs said, as she took a final look at Sam, crossed herself and glanced upwards. ‘Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy…’

‘Taking too long,’ Robbie complained as he pressed the pistol hard into the back of Babs’s head and pulled the trigger twice. The bullets thudded as they entered her brain. Her body fell forward and lay still, a torrent of blood flowing from her shattered skull. Sam wanted to turn his head, take a last glimpse of Babs but he didn’t dare. His eyes filled with tears.

‘One down,’ Robbie said as he reloaded, ‘one to go. Do you want to do this one Tommy?’

‘I guess so. Anything to say?’ Tommy stated as he pressed the pistol into the back of Sam’s skull.

Sam took a moment to answer. ‘You blokes weren’t bad to work for.’

The brothers laughed.

Sam continued. ‘You don’t have to kill me. I have a really bad memory. You know I won’t even remember what happened here tonight. Put me on a plane to Darwin and we’ll leave it at that.’

The boys laughed again. ‘We’ll miss that cheeky sense of humour of yours,’ Tommy pressed the barrel against Sam’s head. As Tommy was about to pull the trigger, he heard the wail of sirens and saw a blaze of headlights coming towards them.

‘It’s the fucking cops!’ Robbie shouted looking in the direction of the security gate. He could see the outline of three police cars and a van coming down the wharf towards them. ‘Who frigging told them?’

‘No time for the why and fucking wherefores now, Robbie,’ Tommy yelled as he dragged Sam to his feet.

The police vehicles screamed along the wharf.

‘Why don’t we jump in the boat and head out to sea?’ Robbie cried above the growing crescendo of sirens.

‘Too late,’ Tommy bellowed. ‘Let’s go, Abo.’ He took hold of Sam’s arm and pulled him.

‘Where are we going?’ Robbie asked as he spun away from the impending storm.

‘In the office. Sam is going to be our ticket out of here. Move, Robbie. Don’t stand there like a stale bottle of piss!’

The two brothers bolted to the office, Tommy pushing Sam along. He tossed Sam through the doorway first. The brothers dived after him and fell to the floor. Tommy slammed the door shut and pushed a filing cabinet against it. Sam curled himself into a tight ball under the sink and prepared himself to meet his ancestors. Robbie pulled the
faded curtains across the two narrow windows on either side of the small demountable.

‘Stay on the floor, Robbie,’ Tommy ordered. ‘They’ll plug us if we stand near the window.’

They heard the police vehicles screech to a halt in quick succession and the stamping of feet as the officers leapt out of the vehicles.

‘Fucking flat feet,’ Robbie cursed.

Tommy reached up with pistol in hand and peered through a hole in the curtain. The cars had stopped about two house lengths away from the office in a semi-circular formation. Tommy could see police crouched with weapons drawn behind their cars.

‘How many?’ Robbie asked.

‘About twenty,’ Tommy said quickly. ‘Enough to do a lot of damage.’

‘I don’t want to die, Tommy,’ Robbie sobbed.

‘Shut up. I’m thinking.’ Tommy continued to peer through the torn curtain. ‘McCracken’s running the show,’ he observed. ‘He’s standing out there like John fucking Wayne.’