Wyatt - 03 - Death Deal (3 page)

You say that as if you think a
paintings worth something if its an oil and got a signature at the bottom of
it. Id need to view the collection first.

Now, why doesnt that surprise me?
said Dern. Dont
any
of the jobs Ive outlined grab you, make the old
heart flutter? He looked at Harbutt. You didnt tell me your mate was a wet
blanket, Mike.

Wyatt uncoiled from the wall and
unfolded his arms. I havent said no, Dern. Give me the addresses of these
places and Ill check them out. If one looks promising, Ill be in touch. But
that will only be the start. Well need equipment, vehicles, somewhere quiet to
stay. All that costs money. Are you good for it?

Dern scowled. He looked glossy but
it was perspiration, not good health or enthusiasm. The enthusiasm was gone,
worn down by the cold hard stamp that Wyatt was slapping on things. He took a
notebook from his pocket and scrawled in it. I can go to five grand, he said,
tearing off a sheet and extending it to Wyatt.

Wyatt pocketed it. Fine. Well meet
again tomorrow, same time.

Here?

Wyatt shook his head. I dont like
to stay in one place too long. Harbutt will let you know where.

When they were gone Wyatt lay on his
back and stared at the ceiling. It was pebble-dashed, painted white, ringed
here and there with water stains. The room resembled a prison cellmonastic,
bare, grubby. He thought about Dern and the woman. Dern was a windbag. Thea
could be a handicap. He didnt trust her. She carried grievances around with
her and was liable to play both sides against the middle.

He thought then about the woman
called Anna Reid who had soured things for him in Melbourne a few months back.
She was calculating, cool under pressure, a professional. Like him, shed put
the job first, and hed been in the way. Shed had her own agenda. In the end
he had tumbled to what shed been doing and had stopped her, but not soon
enough to do anything about the repercussions that had robbed him of his
permanent base and forced him into going on the run. He probably should have
shot her. It was an article of Wyatts faith never to give anyone a second
chance to cross him. But something had held him back, the might-have-been
element in their relationship and the knowledge that she was someone he
understood and could work with, not against.

The woman calling herself Thea was
no match.

Wyatt lay like that for two hours.
When the knock came at eight oclock, instinct told him who it was. Cops didnt
tap meekly like that.

He opened the door. Youre making a
mistake.

She had her arms crossed
protectively over her chest. Arent you at least going to ask me in?

She didnt wait for a reply but
slipped past him into the room. She was full of mannerisms, little shoulder
hunches, darting looks and mock wicked grins like a wife who knew she was
misbehaving herself. Wyatt searched outside, then closed the door. You shouldnt
have come.

A drink would be nice. You didnt
even offer us a cup of tea before.

Wyatt pointed at the tiny refrigerator.
Help yourself.

She pouted. Charming. Very gallant.

Say what you have to say and get
out.

She crouched at the open door of the
refrigerator. Scotch . . . gin . . . Ill have a vodka. She perched on the
edge of the bed and unscrewed the cap of the little bottle. Cheers.

Does Dern know youre here?

Dern. A nice man, but, you know, a
bit like a cuddly uncle.

Whats your problem, Maxine?

You are. Dont you know that? Weve
got unfinished business from before. She searched for the right word. Closure,
thats what I missed out on back then. You just cleared out on me.

It was finished.

Not as far as I was concerned. When
I saw you in action this evening, demolishing all Derns clever ideas, I
thought, what am I doing with him? Why arent I with you? You and me, wed get
things done and have fun doing it.

Wyatt shook his head. It was over
for him here. There would be no job with Harbutt or Dern or anyone else. Get
out, he said.

She came close and placed the palms
of both hands flat on his chest. You dont mean that. Cant I stay a while?
Ray thinks Ive gone to see a friend.

Wyatt clamped his hands around her
wrists until the pain showed in her face. He turned her around, shoved her
toward the door. Out, he said.

But then headlights blazed beyond
the curtain in the courtyard window and he knew he was too late. There were two
vehicles and the lights went out, doors banged, and Dern started pounding on
the door. He didnt seem to know who he wanted. Lake, you in there? You
bastard. Thea, I know youre there. Come out, slag.

Wyatt went to the door and opened
it. Dern was there, tense, his fists close to his chest. Behind him, at the
door of the second car, was Harbutt. He shrugged apologetically at Wyatt. Sorry,
pal.

Dern burst into the motel room,
large and agitated, swinging his fists uselessly. Wyatt stepped calmly into a gap
and drove his knee into Derns groin. The big man doubled over and dropped to
the floor. He gasped and writhed until the pain eased.

Ray,
Thea said. She bent over him. Did
he hurt you?

Dern pushed her away. Fuck off.

I was just talking over the job
with him.

Dern screamed, I said
fuck off.
Oh,
Jesus, it hurts.

Thea persisted. You should know his
real name is Wyatt, not Lake. Hes bad news. You dont go in lightly with
someone like that. I was just checking things out with him first.

Wyatt dragged her outside and
slammed her spine against Derns Fairmont. He swung back his hand, slapped her
so hard she rocked on her feet. Stop stuffing me around, broadcasting to the
whole world who I am. Get in your boyfriends car and shut the fuck up.

Mate?

Harbutt stepped into the light,
holding a cigarette. Im sorry, mate. He got this bee in a bonnet about you
and her after we left this evening and had to come back. I tried to talk him
out of it.

Wyatt nodded curtly. The jobs off.
Im out of here.

Harbutt dropped his cigarette,
ground it out with his shoe. Thats what I thought youd say. A shame. A
couple of them jobs had promise.

Wyatt had nothing to say in reply to
that. He went back into his motel room. Dern was in the bathroom, the door
closed. There were the sounds of water being scooped and sloshed behind the
door and he guessed that Dern was soothing his overheated groin.

Wyatt packed everything he owned
into a carrier bag and walked outside. Harbutt was smoking another cigarette.

Mate, I could see what was
happening, how it was all one way between Thea and you. Ill let Dern know
nothing happened, you werent interested.

I dont care what you tell him. I
dont care what he thinks. Its nothing to do with me.

The last Wyatt saw of Thea was her
pinched face in the passenger seat of Derns car, begging a cigarette from
Harbutt. He walked away from the motel, wondering at the binds and knots that
people got themselves into over feelings.

* * * *

Four

We
found him, Mack Stolle said, and then Im afraid we lost him again.

He put the receiver to his other
ear, reached for a pen and doodled on the pad in front of him. Hed been
working on the Battle of Waterloo: Nelson, Hornblower, belching cannons, torn
rigging above sailors with cutlasses in their teeth.

Thats what I said, and I stand by
it, Stolle said. Eighty-seven per cent success rate in tracking missing
persons.

He drew a splintered hole above the
waterline in a French frigate. Thats right, near Mt Gambier. Hes on the run.
You sure you want this bloke found? He beat up my operatives and got away from
them.

Stolle looked up then, at the man in
the chair across from him. No, I certainly will not be putting the same men on
this case again. In fact, Ill be doing it myself.

Mostyn, bruised and sorry-looking,
stirred in the office chair.

No. Yes. Thank you, Stolle said. Bye
for now.

He replaced the handset. No guesses
who that was.

She pissed off with us?

Stolle stuck his forefinger in his
ear and agitated it. You could say that.

Im sorry, boss, Mostyn said.

Youre sorry.
Im
the one
thats sorry. If you two pricks hadnt fucked up Id have delivered him to
Brisbane by now. Id be on the Gold Coast, happy as a pig in shit, squandering
our hard-earned fee at the roulette table in the Monte Carlo. He looked at
Mostyn sharply. What went wrong anyway? Wheres young Whitney?

Forget him, he cleared out, Mostyn
said. Look, we tracked Wyatt to Adelaide, lost him, found him up the bush
somewhere, eventually followed him to some place near the border.

Stolles voice took on a lashing
quality. The way I heard it, he was up the bush snatching a payroll. Id say
you two dickheads tried to relieve him of it.

No way. He didnt have the money on
him.

So you
did
try it on.
Arsehole.

Boss, we had him, okay? We were in
the actual room with him, needle primed ready to go. Naturally we searched his
gear.

And you let him escape. I thought
you were meant to be crash-hot with your hands and feet?

Mostyns gaze slid away from Stolles
face. Well, yeah, I mean, hes a powerful bastard.

And you woke up on the back of a
semi in Port Adelaide.

Mostyn nodded tightly.

Jesus Christ, Stolle said. So
what happened to Whitney?

Got scared, did a bunk, buggered if
I know.

Got scared with his pockets full of
the blokes money, Stolle said.

No, boss. It wasnt

Just shut up, okay? Whitneys long
gone. You he pointed, you want a chance to redeem yourself?

Some of the gloom left Mostyns
face. You mean youre not giving me the sack?

Better the devil you know, right? Ive
got three jobs for you. The main one is the picket line at Plastico. I want you
to slip in and stir them up a bit, get the cops called if possible. Take your
camera along. If some bastard takes a swing at someone or chucks a rock through
a windscreen, the client will pay a bonus.

Wont I stand out?

Theres a whole heap of outside
stirrers there. You wont be noticed.

Whos the client?

Lets just say hes a Minister of
our fair state.

Mostyn knew how it worked. His
family companys got shares in Plastico, plus he wants to bash the unions.

But you and me, we dont know that,
all right, Chuckles?

Sure. What else?

Stolle grinned. He had a
tight-skinned face and the grin seemed to stretch and split it. How does a 3
am wake-up call sound?

I can handle it.

Stolle pushed a folder across his
desk. Tony Baggio, greengrocer, lives in Cheltenham.

Fuck no. Let one of the others take
it.

Mostyn, you owe me, okay? Youll
pick him up at three-thirty tomorrow morning. Hell have about seven grand on
him, so take a gun with you. See that old Tony plus dough get to the market
safely.

Jesus, boss, the Mafias doing
these blokes over left, right and centre.

So shoot first and ask questions
after.

Yeah, yeah. What else?

Stolle pushed another file across
his desk. No hurry with this one. The client is Ameribank. They need
information about the names on this list, deep background stuff if possible.
Use our regular contacts in Social Security, the Lands Department, Motor
Vehicles, Tax Office, Securities Commission. Tell them to fax it to mefrom a
newsagent, not the officeand Ill pay cash on delivery.

Stolle watched Mostyn collect the
files and leave the office. Despite his name, despite his failure to bring in
Wyatt, Mostyn was good valuequick with his hands, a sure instinct for outguessing
people. The failure to bring in Wyatt probably owed more to Wyatts skills than
to Mostyns sticky fingers.

Stolle tolerated a certain level of
dishonesty in his people. He could hardly do otherwise. Seven years ago hed
gone by the name Securicor. On the surface hed been in the business of
installing burglar alarms, video scanners and electric eyes, but mostly what he
did was rob small companies. Theyd see Securicor in the yellow pages, call for
a quote, and Stolle would wander around with a polaroid camera, a frown and a
clipboard, noting doors and windows, distances and angles, making little
sketches to show the proprietor, constructing models with the polaroid snaps.

What he didnt write down, but filed
away in his head, were lock size and type, window height, alley layout, traffic
direction on the one-way streets, who the neighbours were, whether or not there
was space to back in a small truck, how close the nearest cop shop was. Then hed
type up a report, quote a figure guaranteed to scare the proprietor off the
idea, and wait a few weeks. If another firm had fitted security to the place in
the meantime, fine, Stolle simply pulled a long face and carried on, as his
mother used to say. But more often than not the proprietor would hold off for a
while and Stolle would hit the premises one night and clean it out.