‘Fuck you.’
‘You sound anxious, Jay.’
‘I’m anxious to get the money. That’s all.’
‘Can I talk to Fay?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Stop pissing around.’
‘Okay. You don’t imagine I’m going to waltz in with twenty-five thousand cash in my briefcase, do you?’
‘You better.’
‘Get real. You’re green as grass at this game, Jay. I’ve done it before. In this country, every bank transaction of ten thousand dollars and over gets reported to the authorities. Mrs Master’s going to have to make three withdrawals from three different accounts. She can’t make them between now and nine o’clock tomorrow. Maybe you’d like to take cheques?’
‘Jesus, if I was there, Hardy, I’d-’
‘I’m sure you would. You’re not old and you’re a kick-boxer. I’ve never understood that sport, if that’s what it is. Kicking was considered cowardly when I was growing up.’
He let out a stream of obscenities and I realised that he was pretty drunk. There was the sound of a whispered exchange, then an altercation at the end of the line and a different voice cut through: ‘Hardy? This is Fay. What’re you playing at?’
‘Welcome to Australia, Fay. Nothing, really, just trying to ensure a level playing field.’ I repeated what I’d said to Montefiore about the money. Fay didn’t rant and rave.
‘You listen to me, Hardy. You’d better turn up with five grand minimum or it’s no deal. Your client should be able to lay her hands on that much one way or another between now and then. If she can’t, she’s probably not going to come up with the rest. You tell her that. You tell her as soon as this call ends. And don’t bother with the call-back number. We won’t be there.’
Fay was the real player and the one with the savvy. ‘All right, Fay,’ I said. ‘That’s one for your team. But I’ve got one more condition.’
‘I’m running out of patience here. What?’
‘I’ll want to see that. 38 sitting somewhere in plain view, unloaded, with the cylinder open.’
‘You’re paranoid.’
‘Big word. D’you know what it means?’
End of call.
16
I phoned Lorraine and gave her the story. She asked why I’d played so hard to get and I told her I didn’t like being dictated to and that, with people like this, you had to keep an edge. And that I had another reason.
‘What’s that?’
‘I thought you might like to come along-as this nonexistent testimony analyser.’
‘At nine o’clock in the morning in Balmain? Have you any idea what my day is looking like tomorrow?’
‘It was just a thought. You’re shelling out a lot of money. I thought you deserved a chance to look at where it’s going. As well as that, I think you probably are a good judge of character, with the occasional slip, and you might be better able to judge the value of what Fay says than me.’
‘You really think that?’
‘I do.’
‘No ulterior motive?’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘I can guess what you think of me, Cliff. That I’m one of those women attracted to bad men. Like the helicopter lady, right?’
‘It crossed my mind.’
‘Maybe you’re the same. Attracted to women with bad track records with men. Bitches.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘Jesus, as if I haven’t got enough worries. But what if they know me? What if someone’s been watching me, or Penny’s given them a description?’
‘Good point. Got a wig? Four-inch heels?’
She gave a snort of amusement. ‘I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it. How much money should I scrape up?’
‘Four thousand.’
‘I thought you said five.’
‘Stuff them.’
She laughed and we agreed to meet in Balmain a few minutes before the appointed time. I’d be there earlier but I didn’t tell her that.
I realised I still had half of the drink I’d made when Montefiore’s first call came through. I hadn’t touched it through the second call or when talking to Lorraine. I freshened it up and sat back. What are you doing? I thought. The woman’s ripped the heart out of two weak men and she’s prepared to go to bat for a third strong one only so he can co-parent for her. Keep your professional and emotional distance. I hadn’t even liked her at first. But then, I hadn’t liked Cyn with her North Shore ways straight off, or Helen Broadway with her divided loyalties, or Glen Withers, imbued with the police culture. I drank the scotch and wrestled with the thought that maybe Lorrie Master was right-I was attracted to unsuitable women. If so, too bad.
I was in Balmain just before eight, with a pair of field glasses, a miniature tape recorder and a camera. First stop was the wharf at the end of Darling Street to make a sweep of the water with the glasses. It was a clear, crisp morning with no breeze yet to speak of. The Harbour Bridge looked majestic in the near distance and I watched the ferry to the Quay pull away with its cargo of office workers who at least could start and end the day surrounded by beauty. The harbour was already lively with boating types getting ready to do whatever they do with their big, pricey toys.
The You Beaut was moored a hundred metres offshore amid a cluster of other boats. No action aboard. I supposed someone who knew boats could have told that she’d made a long voyage but I couldn’t. She looked the same to me as when she sat in Noumea marina. I moved around to get a better view and to be sure there was no reflection from the glasses and I saw some movement. Reg Penny emerged from the hatch with a bottle in his hand. He squatted near the bow, took a swig and then pulled out his tobacco and rolled a smoke. He lit it and drank again. He was bare-chested and wearing his battered shorts. He looked relaxed. A young man wearing a red kimono joined him and shared the cigarette and the bottle. They yawned and emptied the bottle. Penny tossed it into the water and they laughed and headed for the hatch. They weren’t going anywhere just yet and I was relieved. Penny would probably know Lorrie whatever disguise she adopted, and that wouldn’t help matters. I adjusted the zoom and took a photo of the two men and then one of the boat before heading back to my car.
Number 213a was a small block of flats squeezed in between a convenience store and a dry-cleaner’s. The narrow side entrance from the street was blocked by a high security gate; a set of iron steps ran up the side of the building to a minuscule walkway with four doors opening out to it. From the shape of the building, the flats couldn’t have been much bigger than motel rooms. Jay and Fay weren’t splashing out on what they’d got so far.
I drove back up the street and parked near the Gladstone Hotel where I could keep the flats in sight and any comings and goings. At first I didn’t recognise her. She looked taller and more heavily built; she wore sunglasses and her hair was blonde-streaked. It was something about her walk that identified her, a purposeful stride. She appeared from around the corner on the other side of the street and hesitated for just a fraction when she spotted my car. Then she kept on going and went into the convenience store. I left the glasses in the car, checked that the tape recorder was working and followed her.
She’d bought a packet of cigarettes and was removing the wrapper.
‘Didn’t know you smoked, Lorrie.’
‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘So I am.’
‘No need to overdo it. The look’s fine. Took me a bit to pick you.’
‘Right.’ She dropped the smokes and lighter into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing. It had padded shoulders and a solid lining, giving her the bulkier look. She wore slightly flared trousers and high, blocky heels. Her shoulder bag was roomy and vinyl, not the stylish leather number she usually carried.
I touched her on the shoulder. “Where’d you get the jacket… and the bag?’
‘From Britt. She’s very puzzled, poor girl.’
‘Got the money?’
‘Four thousand, one hundred and fifty.’
‘Nice. Okay, let’s do it. What we’re after is the name of the man in question, who he works for and anything else distinctive about him. We get that on tape, give them the cash and leave after we agree to meet again. We should have time to run a rough check on the name. Won’t turn up anything if he’s undercover or it’s a false name, but it still could be useful.’