Authors: Garry Disher
The bus drew into Vimy Ridge just
before eleven-thirty. It was a rest stop. Everyone filed out of the bus and
looked about, blinking and stretching. Letterman was travelling light, only a
weekender bag on the rack above his head. He grabbed it and strode across the
street and into a cafe as though he belonged to the place.
The cafe was cluttered with
artifacts from the towns colonial era but Letterman didnt notice that. He sat
where he could watch the bus. He ordered coffee, nursing it for the ten minutes
the bus was parked in the street. He continued to watch as the bus passengers
filed on board again and the bus departed, leaving Snyder waiting there like a
clown.
After a while, Snyder began to look
at his watch. He picked his nose and peered both ways along the street. Then
Letterman saw an old Holden utility pull away from the kerb a few hundred
metres away. It had been there when the bus came in. As Letterman watched, the
utility drew alongside Snyder. The driver made no sign to Snyder, just watched
him. Snyder picked up his bag and approached the utility. He opened the
passenger door and leaned in, apparently to talk to the driver. Then he got in
and the utility drove away.
Letterman paid at the cash register
and asked about accommodation in the town. His blues had vanished. Hed found
Wyatt.
* * * *
TWENTY
Where
were going there are no shops, Wyatt said. If you need anything toothpaste,
work clothes, whateverget it now.
I could do with some Scotch,
Snyder said.
Wyatt looked at him. Snyder had the
red, creased face and heavy belly of a boozer. Absolutely no way. I dont care
what you do afterwards, the next few days no one drinks.
Suit yourself, Snyder said, making
a face at the windscreen. Wyatt was driving painfully slowly through the town.
So was everyone else, but that didnt make it any better to Snyder. Where we
going, anyway?
Abandoned farmhouse about half an
hour away. We stay there till the jobs over.
The whole time?
Wyatt caught a hint of alarm in the
voice. He hoped it didnt mean that Snyder got the shakes if he was away from
the bottle for too long. Ideally, yes. Ill say it again, if you need
anything, get it now.
Well, I mean, whats this place
like? We got beds? Bathroom? Is the power on?
Thats all taken care of. Army
cots, sleeping bags, towels, food, gas stove and lanterns ...
Who paid for it?
I did.
Youre taking it out of my cut,
right?
No.
Mr Generosity, Snyder said. He
opened the aluminium case. Wyatt had no idea what a jammer looked like, but the
radio itself looked impressive. All modes, Snyder went on, plus band scanning.
I want you to know I paid top dollar for this stuff.
Youll be reimbursed.
Someone bankrolling this?
I am, Wyatt said.
From that Melbourne job, right?
Wyatt stiffened. Loman should have
warned him about Snyder. He let it go. There was an agricultural supply place
ahead and he slowed the dusty Holden, allowing a farmer to cross the road. The
farmer was carrying a small drum of chemical spray in each hand. The drums were
heavy, the man bowed down, taking short, laboured steps. He wore khaki work
clothes and rubber boots.
Do you reckon its true what they
say?
Wyatt had been with Snyder for five
minutes and it was five minutes too long. Snyder talked too much, all of it
inconsequential. But he made an effort. What do they say?
Its easier to fuck sheep if youre
wearing rubber boots. You just shove the back legs in so they cant get away.
Wyatt stopped, let the farmer get
across, and moved on again. He didnt speak. He saw no reason to speak. He was
waiting for Snyder to get his mind around the job.
They reached the edge of the town
and Wyatt increased speed. They travelled north for several kilometres and then
turned onto a major dirt road. Snyder was sitting forward in his seat. He
seemed to be taking a close note of where they were going. There are maps at
the hideout, Wyatt said.
Snyder sat back. After a while he
said, Eddie Loman didnt tell me much.
I didnt tell Eddie much.
Snyder waited. When it was clear
that Wyatt wouldnt go on, he said, Eddie told me Id need plastic explosive
and radio jamming gear. If I wasnt in the fucking outback, Id say we were
going to do a security van.
We are.
Snyder turned to him. Out here?
The firms called Steelgard, Wyatt
said. Its a small outfit servicing the local banks, but theres a big
construction firm on their books at the moment.
Weekly payroll?
Wyatt nodded.
Where do we hit?
Im taking you there now.
Snyder frowned, looking out at the
crops and roadside mailboxes. Here and there cypress trees lined farmhouse
driveways like green slashes on the dusty landscape. I dont like it. It takes
too long to cut your way in these days.
Wyatt explained about the breakdown
truck. You set your jammer on, we transport the van to the farm, find a way in
at our leisure. No panic, no messing about.
You cant be serious, Snyder said.
The cops will get on the blower and therell be roadblocks between here and
Timbuktu before you know it. I say we go in hard and fast, blow a big hole in
it, fuck off straight away.
It was always like this on a job,
Wyatt thought. The soldiers always wanted to be the generals. He said, quietly,
coldly, You do it my way or not at all. If you want out, tell me now so I can
take you back to the bus stop. Ill send you a retainer in a few days time,
five thousand dollars. But if I hear youve been sounding your mouth off about
me or the job, Ill cancel your ticket.
Well, Jesus, Snyder protested. I
just thought I was making a valid point. Youre telling me we all front up to
the roadblocks and hope to Christ the cops dont ask to look in the glovebox?
Jesus Christ.
We stay inside the area, Wyatt
said. After two or three days theyll think we got away at the start and the
roadblocks will come down. Its always the same.
Snyder put his hand on the dashboard
as the utility pitched and shuddered over a patch of corrugations in the road.
Dust roiled around them, coming through the door seals in choking puffs. How
will we know when its safe to leave?
One of us scouts around in this,
Wyatt said, patting the steering wheel. Just another farm vehicle. If she
doesnt come back, well know its not safe.
She?
Theres a woman.
Snyder didnt say anything. He
looked at Wyatt, and Wyatt could sense his mind working, but he didnt speak.
A minute later Snyder said, Getaway
vehicles?
Theres this ute, a bike, and the
truck we use to transport the van.
Thats the bit I dont like,
carting the van around on a breakdown truck. Well stick out like a sore thumb.
Wyatt explained about Brava
Construction. Theyve had four wheel drives, low loaders and earth-moving
equipment all over this area for weeks now. People are used to them. We
disguise ours with Brava logos and a bit of paint, throw a tarp over the van,
and no one will bother us.
The guards, the driver?
They can stay in the van. If theres
a tarp over it they wont see where were taking them.
I tell you one thing, Snyder said,
it wont be me who wastes them.
No ones wasting anybody. Ive got
a .38, thats all we need, and I dont intend to use it unless I have to.
Snyder said nothing. He sat forward
in his seat again, taking note of their route. A short time later they came to
the Belcowie short cut. Wyatt slowed the utility and turned into it.
Here?
Wyatt nodded. He drove for two
kilometres and stopped where the road plunged steeply down into a dry creek
bed. The road was narrow, loose and shaly.
Snyder leaned forward and grinned. Couldnt
have picked a better place myself.
The truck parks here at the edge of
the incline, Wyatt explained. Our man stands in the road, looking down,
scratching his head like he doesnt know if he can make it. The van comes up,
sees that it cant get past, and stops. Theyll be wary, they always are, but
it will
look
genuine enough. They might even wind down the window, offer
to help. If they call their headquarters, it wont do them any good. Youll
have the radio jammed.
What if he backs up and turns
around?
See those wattles? We hide back
there in the ute. As soon as the van is in position we box it in.
Local traffic?
Snyder was asking all the right
questions. We put up road-closed signs at both ends, Wyatt said.
Snyder was still leaning forward in
his seat. He was a solid form in white and Wyatt could smell Old Spice
aftershave on him. There was a series of cracking sounds. Snyder was popping
his knuckles.
* * * *
TWENTY-ONE
Tobin
was the last to arrive. They heard him before they saw him. The sky that Monday
evening was vast, still and cloudless, carrying clearly the roar and snuffle of
the truck as Tobin negotiated the bends and washaways and shifted gear. They
stood on the verandah of the farmhouse to watch. Eventually headlights appeared
in the distance.
Wyatt walked down the track to open
the gate. Behind him, Snyder and Leah talked in low voices. Wyatt had been
watching both of them in the hours since his arrival with Snyder. If anything,
Snyder seemed to be a little amused by Leahs presence. Wyatt supposed that was
better than hostility. Apart from some eye-rolling about the basic food
supplies and the house dirt, Snyder was acting pleasant and relaxed. Snyder had
done jobs like this before. He knew about being stuck in other peoples
company. For her part, Leah made an effort to talk to Snyder. She seemed to
know that Wyatt had nothing to say to him. But in a snatched moment shed
revealed to Wyatt that shed never leave her daughter alone with Snyder. If she
had a daughter.
Wyatt reached the road gate and
waited. When he was sure about the truck, he opened the gate and stepped out
into the road, flashing a torch. The trucks headlights flashed back at him.
When Tobin was through the gate,
Wyatt closed it and climbed onto the running board below the drivers door.
Tobin grinned at him. The others
all here?
Yes.
The woman?
Forget about the woman. Tell me
about the truck.
Pinched it this afternoon. The
plates are off a wreck.
Tomorrow we paint it. When thats
done, we wipe off our prints. After that we wear gloves.
Tobin shifted into second, muttering
aggrievedly, You make me feel like thiss my first time or something.
Your feelings dont interest me. Weve
each got a job to do. Part of mine is to make sure nothing gets overlooked.
Tobin scowled. The headlights were
picking up the sheds, tankstands and farmhouse by now. Leah and Snyder were on
the verandah, shading their eyes.
Drive into the long shed there on
your right, Wyatt said. Ill close the doors behind you.
He got off the truck and watched.
When it was done, he led Tobin across the yard to the house and introduced him
to Snyder. Tobin also greeted Leah, throwing his arm around her and grinning. We
meet again.
He held her for a beat too long and
she grimaced. So we do.
Yep, Tobin agreed, still grinning.
The atmosphere got genial after
that. They went into the main room of the house, where Wyatt and Leah had laid
out the supplies and set up a two-ring camping stove. While Snyder toasted
slices of bread on one burner, Leah heated a saucepan of tinned stew on the
other. Wyatt got out plastic plates and cutlery and poured mineral water into
enamel cups for each of them. Tobin, on the floor with his head on a football
hed taken from his overnight bag, said, You giving us poofter drinks? He
grinned at Leah and Snyder, looking for a reaction. Leah smiled at him
absentmindedly. Snyder ignored him. So did Wyatt.
Tobin crossed one ankle over the
other and clasped his hands together behind his head. What about the sleeping
arrangements? Leah, where do you sleep?
Leah jerked her head towards a door
at the end of the room. In there.
Right, right, Tobin said. He
paused, weighing up his words. I suppose women in one room, blokes in another?
We each get a room, Leah said.
No doubling up, kind of thing?
No.
Wyatt watched all this. Everything
about Tobin was loaded. He was saying he liked Leahs looks and might act on it
and what did you others intend to do about it?
Separate rooms had been Leahs
suggestion. Wyatt could see the sense of it. He realised again how every job
was ten per cent work and ninety per cent psychology. If there was any waiting
involved, the problem was compounded. Hed always known about the emotional
baggage people carried around with them, even when they should have been concentrating
on a job. He knew all about hidden grievances, attacks of nerves, insanity and
boredom. He didnt want to add sexual jealousy to that. He didnt want Snyder
and Tobin smouldering away in the darkness while he shared a room with Leah.
And he wasnt worried about Leah. She knew how to handle herself.