Read Wyatt - 01 - Kick Back Online
Authors: Garry Disher
Wyatt - 01 - Kick Back (7 page)
Jesus, Sugarfoot thought. Poor
bloody bitch.
When Placida was gone, Bauer said, We
will go there and we will talk to her.
He wouldnt say more than that.
Sugarfoot drank his beer quickly, wanting to get this over with. You dont
exactly yarn over a beer with the Bauers of this world.
Sugarfoot found it all a bit
shadowy. He knew that Bauer worked for the Sydney outfit, which had fingers in
several piesdrugs, gambling, kickbacks, places like Calamity Janes but he
couldnt quite work out the chain of command. Bauer was sort of in charge, but
you wouldnt exactly call Ivan a member of staff. He had money invested with
them and he managed some rackets for them. The only explanation Ivan would give
him was that, in this game, the left hand doesnt know what the right hand is
doing, and you dont ask questions.
Sugarfoot put down his glass. Bauer
said immediately, We will go now.
Sugarfoot drove them in his
Customline. As they wound through the streets of St Kilda, he dropped a few
leading remarks about the V8, the restoration job, where to go for a good
rechroming, but Bauer ignored him.
So he raised the Calamity Jane job
again, approaching it sideways. There was this bloke, he said, I put the
frights on a couple of year ago, before I started working with Ivan. Anyway, he
threatens to go to the jacks. I said, mention my fucking name, mate, and youre
dead. I said, if you go to the cops, Ill come in your bedroom and kill you
while you sleep. Thats fear for you, going to bed not knowing if youll see
the morning. I go, Ill burn you and all your family, me, personally. You, I
said, your daughters,
especially
your daughters, plus that slag youre
married to, every one of youse. I said, you got to sleep sometime, pal, you cant
fucking stay awake twelve months of the year. Work it out for yourself, I said.
Whats more important, keeping up your payments or waking up one morning with a
hole in your head? He paused. Worked, he said, nodding his head.
There was silence. Bauer stirred. He
said deadeningly, You talk too much.
Yeah well, fuck you. Sugarfoot
cornered the Customline and pulled up at the kerb. Calamity Janes resembled a
western bordello, complete with a red clapboard facade and Wild West decor and
writing. On summer nights the girls lounged on the iron lace balcony in
saloon-style garters, ribbons and corsets, hooting invitations to passing men
and insults at women. A number of signs were tacked to the wall near the front
door: Private Suites, Adult Movies, B&D, Waterbeds. The word Aids
in Sex Aids had been painted out and the word Appliances substituted.
Sugarfoot had an image of doing it with a Mixmaster.
They went in. There was nobody in
the front room. Whenever he came here for a freebie, Sugarfoot tried to place
the smells: cheap perfume, cleaning fluids, incense, no trouble there, but
under it all was a faint, troubling smell he supposed was sex itself.
Yes, gentlemen?
They turned around. A young Thai
woman stood in the doorway of a room along the corridor. Then she recognised
them and her professional expression disappeared and she looked afraid.
We want to see Ellie, Bauer said.
She went upstairs. Two minutes later
a well-dressed, middle-aged woman came slowly down the stairs. She stopped on
the last step, saw Bauer, and paled.
We want to talk to you, Bauer
said.
She looked at them, nodded briefly,
and turned to go up again. They followed her to a room at the back. It was
furnished with a king-size waterbed, angled mirrors and a mohair rug. A small
open door revealed an ensuite bathroom.
Bauer turned to Sugarfoot, said, Do
not speak. Do not interfere, just watch, and pushed the woman onto the bed.
Sugarfoot watched him take a thin
nylon rope from his pocket. He bound the womans ankles and wrists, bent back
her knees, and looped a noose around her neck. If she struggled or straightened
her legs a fraction, the noose would tighten and slowly strangle her. Even as
Sugarfoot watched, the woman began to choke. She struggled against it, which
only increased the risk.
Bauer placed his face near hers. You
are dirt, he said. You are nothing. You have been extracting a percentage for
yourself each week, am I right?
Sugarfoot gathered from the womans
noises that she was assenting. He saw that she had wet herself.
We are short by seven thousand
dollars, Bauer said. You will repay that, with interest, yes?
Again the woman gurgled.
You will work for it, here, Bauer
went on. Yes?
The woman nodded her head, moved her
legs, and blacked out.
Release her, Bauer said.
Sugarfoot bent down and fumbled at
the knots, feeling oddly disturbed and excited by the coldness, the
professionalism. Bauer was mad, no risk, but Jesus, he knew his stuff.
He heard taps being turned on in the
ensuite bathroom. Bauer was washing his hands.
* * * *
Eleven
Pedersen
arrived twenty minutes late. He came into Wyatts room at the Gatehouse
bringing with him a smell of Chinese food and industrial toxins. He shook Wyatts
hand, crossed immediately to the window, and prowled the perimeter of the room.
Habit, Wyatt thought. Pedersen was thirty-five and had spent half his life in
small spacescells and cheap rented rooms.
Pedersen finally sat on the edge of
the bed and crossed one leg over the other. He wore an oiled black japara,
jeans, thick socks anda vain touchexpensive, soft ankle boots. A John Deere
cap was pushed back on his head. Wyatt heard keys chime on a key-ring on his
belt. Pedersen had the smallest mouth Wyatt had ever seen on anyone, and a
plain, forgettable face, but he seemed to be harder and more alert than Wyatt
remembered. Perhaps, like many ex-cons, Pedersen had built up his body in
prison and maintained it when he got out.
Beer? Scotch? Wyatt said. He was
drinking tea.
Got any mineral water? My guts.
Wyatt tensed at that. He opened the
little refrigerator. Soda.
Thatll do, Pedersen said.
He reached, and Wyatt grabbed the
outstretched arm and pushed the sleeve up above the elbow.
Pedersen jerked back, tugging at the
sleeve. Fuck off, Wyatt. I went off it five years ago. Cold turkey. And Ive
gone off the booze.
Wyatt held out the bottle of soda.
Pedersen took it, his face tight. Wherere the others? he asked.
On their way.
Pedersen drained the little soda
bottle. Wyatt said nothing, wondering what Pedersen would do. He never felt the
strain of waiting, of long silences. Pedersen scowled, as though he knew he had
to start sounding convincing and resented it. Hes fresh out of gaol, Wyatt
thought, and if hes working again already its because he needs the funds or
he wants to prove to himself it was a fluke he got caught.
Pedersen looked at him sourly. You
got me here early
Fill me in. The woman, the money,
everything.
She knows the moneys there,
Pedersen said, his voice bored. She cant get at it, so she hires herself a
pro.
Like you.
Im good, Wyatt. Unlucky, thats
all.
Wyatt nodded. It was true that
Pedersen was good. And, like all the others, he explained everything in terms
of good or bad luck. What Im getting at is, how come this classy female
lawyer takes a pro aside and asks him to crack her partners safe?
Pedersen shrugged. Nothing
surprises me.
Try
Pedersen breathed out heavily, as
though bored. She doesnt seem bent, he said finally. Id say this is a
one-off job for her.
There was a knock on the door. Damn,
Wyatt said. He got up and opened it and stood back as Hobba and Anna Reid
entered the room.
Nippy out, Hobba said, hunching
his shoulders and rubbing his hands together. He seemed to be unsettled by the Reid
womans proximity and luminous looks. After introducing her he sat in the chair
in the corner of the room, his bulky frame consuming it.
Wyatt ignored him and watched Anna
Reid. She examined the room and nodded briefly at Pedersen. Then, regarding
Wyatt expressionlessly, she unbuttoned a bulky, broad-shouldered leather
jacket. When she turned around, looking for somewhere to hang it, her black
hair swung with the movement, gleaming with light. She smelt of shampoo and
scented soap. She was tall, and Wyatt had an impression of physical and mental
agility. Saying nothing, he took the jacket from her and draped it over the
back of a chair. She nodded guardedly and sat far apart from Pedersen on the
edge of the bed.
Hobba opened his tin and fumbled for
a mint, then offered the tin. Anyone? Anna?
Her look said he had to be joking.
She turned to Wyatt. I had to cancel something to come here. I dont know
anything about you, but they say youre good, so it looks like Ive got no
choice. She hesitated. Ive put myself on the line, Ive handed you a dream
of a job, now its your turn.
Her voice was low and deep, tinged
with the impatience Wyatt had noticed that afternoon. Perhaps she was starting
to regret this, was measuring him by his down-at-heel partners. He said, Explain
the job to me.
Havent the others told you?
I want to hear it from you.
The voice was low and bitter. Im
in trouble. I owe someone a lot of money, I cant pay him, and hes threatening
me.
Wyatt watched her. He could see a
bleakness under the sleek exterior. Tell me about the money, he said. We dont
want cheques.
Dont worry, its cash, she said. This
isnt the sort of deal Finn puts through his books.
But three hundred thousand dollars?
Thats some kickback.
Were talking about a ten-storey
office block in the city, she snapped, not someones bathroom extension.
Wyatt nodded. All right. But whos
getting the money? Why cash? Banks report large transactions.
What do you care? I dont imagine
your share is going anywhere legitimate.
Hobba spoke for the first time. Groundwork.
They were all looking at her now and
she curled her lip. Oh, I am relieved, she said, putting her hand to her
heart. Just imagine if Id put myself in the hands of amateurs. The money goes
to a fucking charity, all right? They go to the bank and say theyve had a
successful fund-raising. Then its moved sideways.
Hobba and Pedersen grinned, enjoying
this, but Wyatt kept pushing. Split four ways, we get seventy-five thousand
each. Not bad, but not huge, either. Are you going to risk everything for that?
Until Max brought you and Hobba in
on this, she snapped, my share was twice as much. She brought her voice
under control. It pays my debt, so Ill take a chance.
Tell me about Finn.
Hes a sleaze. He gloats. Id like
to rip him off.
Then she smiled. It held a
challenge, as if she were daring them to question her motive. Wyatt watched
her, assessing the personal factor. In his experience, simple greed was a
reliable motive, revenge wasnt. There are well-buried secrets here, he
thought, none of them good.
Okay, he said, still pursuing her,
hes due to hand over three hundred thousand dollars, but someone comes along
and rips it off. Whats he going to do?
He cant do anything. He cant
afford to draw attention to himself. The thing is, he can absorb the loss. He
wont like it but thats what hell do.
There was a pause. Wyatt said, Describe
what happens on Friday.
The money arrives lunchtime. Finn
hands it over late that evening, about ten oclock.
Todays Monday. Doesnt leave us
much time.
So lets get on with it.
How do we do the hit? Wyatt said.
She stared at him. Why ask me? Ask
Max, hes the safe expert.
This will be
her
plan, Wyatt
thought, watching Pedersen. Pedersen cleared his throat. Anna turns off the
burglar alarms when she leaves work on Friday. We break in at six, six-thirty,
cutting the alarm system so it doesnt look like an inside job, blow the safe,
then split in different cars to confuse possible witnesses. I take the money to
my place and we divvy up there.
No thanks, Wyatt thoughtpotential
there for a sweet cross. He automatically rejected plans that others made. The
only plans he relied on were his own. He looked at Hobba, Pedersen and the Reid
woman, assessing them quickly. Every job was the same: there was someone he
could trust, someone hed never met, someone who could finger him, someone who
might try a cross. The ones to watch were Pedersen and Anna Reid. There didnt
seem to be anything between them, but if they did cross him, hed kill them.
Pedersen would know that.
Well? Anna said.
No good. He began counting on his
fingers. Security patrols, noise, people on the premises after dark. He
looked at her. Plus which, youre an automatic suspect.
They were silent. Then mints rattled
in Hobbas tin. How about we intercept it? he asked, looking around at them.