‘Did Gibbons do the bashing?’
‘Well, he pushed me around a bit at first, but no, it was the other one, the heavy one, who hit me most. Gibbons seemed to be holding him back almost. But the big one hit me and kicked me and I think he would have done some more except that there was something that scared them off-a light or a car or something.
Rosemary said softly: ‘You say this man Gibbons has a gun?’
‘Yeah, and I think he’s under some pressure to use it. Belfrage stands to gain if the road goes ahead, eh?’
‘He certainly does. He controls the trucking, has an interest in the land and…’ He’d dropped into a lecturing tone and I held up a hand to stop him.
‘I get the idea. All this is known, is it?’
‘Oh, no’, Rosemary said. ‘Bill’s told people of course, but it’s his research that shows what Belfrage is doing-he’s got it all well covered with subsidiary companies and leases and things.’
Dempsey looked modest and I tried to picture it-a know communist slandering a respected business man, boring people silly with details of companies and stand-ins. It sounded as if Belfrage was nicely under cover, while Dempsey was in the middle of a paddock without a bush in sight. Silence fell while I did my thinking and Dempsey broke it with an embarrassed cough.
‘Look, Hardy, I can’t quite see what this had to do with finding Robert. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
For no good reason I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t had breakfast and now it was early afternoon and I was hungry. Also I was curious about Zelda and why she’d taken off so abruptly. You’re not supposed to be like this-distracted, thinking of your stomach-in the middle of an investigation, but it happens. I was confused and finding it hard to get a grip on the things I was supposed to be good at.
I muttered something about it being no good to find one brother and lose another, and then asked Rosemary if she could give me something to eat. She looked surprised but drew on her bottomless well of politeness and agreed to make me a sandwich. I asked Dempsey a few questions about his brother whom he barely remembered, but my heart wasn’t in it. His eyes drooped and his colour wasn’t good and I started to leave the room.
‘I am a bit scared you know’, he said quietly. ‘What do you think I should do?’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any trained fighters on your side-good men with the boot, a gun or two?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I wouldn’t…’
‘Didn’t think so. Well, the thing is to stop Belfrage.’
‘How?’
‘Tell him a story’, I said.
I ate a beef sandwich in the kitchen under Rosemary’s curious eye. She offered to open a bottle of wine for me, but I refused, I couldn’t afford to get into the habit of opening bottles of wine for lunch. I had to get to Belfrage somehow and play the one weak card I had. I told Rosemary about Zelda’s behaviour, and she shrugged.
‘She’s very sensitive, you must have upset her.’
‘Me? With my manners? Never.’
She smiled. ‘I’m sure you can make it up. She’s terrific isn’t she?’
I said she was, but I wondered what she meant. Suburbia, you never can tell. I finished the sandwich and drank some coffee. Rosemary touched me on the shoulder as I rinsed the cup and plate.
‘We’re very grateful for what you’re doing, Mr Hardy. I don’t know anything about guns, neither does Bill. And he has children to think of.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I’d heard that line before; somehow your life is worth less if you haven’t got children. ‘If you want to return the favour, tell Zelda what a prince I am.’
‘I will.’
I walked down to my car thinking about the Dempseys and wondering what the mother had been like. I had my hands on the wheel when I felt the blade nip me behind the ear.
‘Just sit still, mate’, a reedy voice said, ‘and nothing bad will happen’.
I sat. Tommy Gibbons got in beside me and dug a vicious punch into my ribs. ‘That’s for Stewie’, he said. A green Datsun drove slowly down the street and Gibbons waved to the driver-the muscle man with the split lip.
‘Tell me where the gun is or I’ll get my mate to cut off a bit of your ear.’
I told him and he unclipped the. 38 and put it in his waist-band. ‘Okay, drive.’
‘Where to?’
‘Where you were this morning, you fuckin’ spy.’
The blade moved away and I started the car and drove. Ginger sat in the back smoking and doing a little bit of work on the upholstery with his knife. The upholstery is shot anyway but I still didn’t like it. Halfway across town I noticed that the Datsun had fallen in behind us; he stayed back a bit and on my right which cancelled any ideas of leaping out of the car-if I knew Stewie, he’d put the front wheels over me and smile. When we got to Belfrage’s place Gibbons directed me down a track which ran along the east fence. Near the end, well away from the main building and the trucks, was a gate. Inside the gate was a small shed. I stopped, Gibbons unshipped the gun and we went through the gate and into the shed.
It looked like it had been made out of car crates, the timber walls were rough and there was a crude skylight instead of windows. The afternoon light fell on Belfrage; who was standing inside, leaning against the back wall.
‘Well, well, you did something right for once.’
Gibbons stepped forward, he held my gun in his hand and he waved it crazily. ‘Listen Harry, stop riding me. I won’t take anymore of it. He’s here, now get off my back.’
Stewie came in then which made five of us in the shack. Ginger pulled up a packing case and sat down to work on his fingernails with the knife. Stewie sat on an old sea chest and gave me dirty looks. His lip was puffy and he worked with his tongue at a bottom tooth as if it was loose. That left three of us standing; Belfrage was mean, Gibbons was angry and I was scared.
Belfrage lit a cigarette and coughed as he drew on it. Veins stood out in his face and he let his belly go even slacker when he coughed. He was in bad shape. ‘Okay, Tommy’, he said. ‘Take it easy. Where’d you get him?’
‘Where d’you think’, Stewie growled. ‘At that prick Dempsey’s place.’
Belfrage blew smoke in my face, ‘All right, you. You snoop around here, you spy on my boys in the pub and you hang around with Dempsey; what the fuck are you doing?’
I shot a quick, uneasy look at Gibbons and tried to look shirty. ‘Well, it’s hard to say, couldn’t just you and me have a talk about it?’
Belfrage laughed. ‘Bullshit. Stewie, why don’t you show him that I don’t like bullshit.’
Stewie got up slowly and took up his position about three feet in front of me. I felt sick and regretted the sandwich; being hit by blokes like Stewie is no picnic but it was something I had to go through. I swayed away from the first punch and ducked the second but his third swing got me high on the cheek. I felt the skin open and I went down harder and more clumsily than I needed to. Stewie stood over me rubbing his knuckles and grinning crookedly with his battered mouth.
‘What d’you say now, smart arse?’ Belfrage said.
I got up, swayed a bit and rounded on Gibbons. ‘You bastard’, I snarled. ‘You’ve got the gun, use it for Christ’s sake?’
Gibbons’ jaw dropped and he looked down stupidly at the. 38 in his hand. ‘What’re you on about?’
It was too much for Stewie who didn’t react at all, Ginger stopped excavating and looked at Gibbons. Belfrage was getting that over-heated-look again. ‘What’s this?’ he snapped. ‘What’s this?’
I put my hand up to my bleeding cheek and tried to look abject; I was on thin ice and it wasn’t hard. ‘All right Mr Belfrage, I’m a spy, I admit it. Dempsey hired me. But I’m not the only one. Dempsey’s got inside your show properly. He knows everything, Gibbons is working for him too.’
Gibbons gave a forced, throaty laugh. ‘What crap, Harry that’s bull.’
‘Hasn’t he gone easy on Dempsey twice?’ I said quickly. ‘Didn’t you tell him to put Dempsey right out of it this time?’