Hank Bachelor had the size and the physical presence for his job and the boredom that kind of work entails hadn’t yet taken its toll on him. He watched my approach carefully with his hand on something nestling in his lap. I stopped a few metres away and said my name.
He nodded and I went closer. He put his piece of equipment on the chair and stood. He shook my hand vigorously, told me that ‘the lady’ was looking forward to seeing me, and that he aspired to be a private enquiry agent himself. He was doing the TAFE course.
‘Interesting work, huh?’
‘It can be, but there’s also a lot of this sort of sitting around and waiting.’
He looked crestfallen but only for a moment. He had that buoyant Yank attitude they graft onto them somewhere in their formative years. ‘Not looking for an assistant, I suppose?’
‘You’ve got a job.’
‘I could moonlight.’
At a guess, he was in his mid-twenties and about the same size and weight I was at his age. His dark hair was held back in a short, tight ponytail and he wore jeans, a long-sleeved navy T-shirt and Doc Martens. I nodded at the object on the chair.
‘What’s that?’
‘Tazer, man.’
‘Illegal in this country’
‘So’s marijuana and obscene language.’
I laughed and gave him my card. ‘You never know, Hank. You never know. I might be able to use you. Where’re you from?’
‘Where d’you want?’
‘Not Texas.’
‘I’m not from Texas. Go right in, Mr Hardy.’ Lorraine Master was sitting up against a nest of snowy pillows. Her complexion, which I’d thought of as olive or something close, was several shades lighter. Her features were drawn and I could see lines I hadn’t seen before. Her dark eyes, distorted by the anaesthetic, looked all the bigger in her slightly pinched face and she actually looked more attractive, like a rather bigger Edith Piaf. She wore a white hospital gown and she tried to hold her arms out to me. The heavy dressing on her right shoulder stopped the gesture and she winced at the involuntary movement.
‘Easy, Lorrie,’ I said. ‘Jesus, I’m sorry I got you into this.’
Her eyes sparkled through the dulling effect of the painkillers. ‘Fuck you, Hardy, you’re sexist. Get it right. I got you into it.’
18
She told me that the police were giving her twenty-four hours to recover from her wound before interviewing her and that O’Connor would be present.
‘Mmm.’
‘What does that mean?’ she said.
‘We had a small falling out over the phone. I accused him of helping to set Stewart up.’
‘Christ, did he?’
‘I don’t know. I was trying to pressure him so I could get to see you. It was hard to judge his reaction. Anyway, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘Thanks. I suppose you’ve been shot lots of times.’
‘I’m sorry, I meant-’
She reached for my hand with her left and held it. ‘I know what you mean. I don’t have any problem with the police. Tell me what you told them and I’ll tell them the same.’
‘Don’t-’
‘I’m not stupid, Cliff. I won’t make it word for word.’
Her hand was cool and smooth and I was glad to be holding it. ‘I’m having trouble saying the right thing. I know you’re not stupid, Lorrie. I’m overprotective, I guess.’
‘No you’re not. You saved my life. I’d say you’re exactly protective enough.’
We sat in silence there for a few minutes then we both started talking. We agreed that it all happened too quickly for us to be scared or to record more than fleeting impressions of the gunman. Our impressions matched: medium height and build, dark clothes, decisive action coming in and going out.
She wasn’t sentimental about Fay Lewis and Montefiore. She hadn’t known them and hadn’t liked what she saw of them. ‘Would he know that Fay hadn’t told us anything?’
I shrugged. ‘Dunno. Could he have heard from outside? Was the window by the door open?’
‘I heard him.’
‘That’s right. So maybe he knows Fay didn’t say his name. You can probably hear your own name better than any other sound.’
‘Does that mean we’re safe? Why the guard then?’
‘Hank? Don’t you like him?’
‘He’s sweet. Answer the question.’
‘At a guess, he’s tapped my phone. So he knows about you and he’s known about me from early on. I don’t know how.’
‘Yes you do. O’Connor.’
‘Mmm.’
‘There’s that pissy sound again. Should I sack him?’
‘No. We have to keep tabs on all the players. You have to tell him to get me another session with Stewart.’
Our hands separated and she said, ‘Oh?’
‘I’m betting this bit of business will have had an effect on him. I’ve got the tape of our voices and the door breaking and the shots.’
She lay back on the pillows and a wave of fatigue and worry seemed to wash over her. ‘I’m tired, Cliff. Could you make sure that Britt’s got the children safe and okay? She can bring them in later and hire some more help. As for what you’re saying about Stewart, I wouldn’t be too sure.’
Hank was still looking alert and ready for action. I asked him to ring O’Connor on his mobile. He did and handed the phone to me.
‘Who’s this?’
‘Hardy,’ I said.
‘Christ, what now?’
‘I want to see Master again. Set it up as quick as you can.’
‘You should be in there with him. Maybe you will be. How is she?’
‘Good that you got around to asking. She’s pretty knocked about and concerned for her kids, but she’s not quitting.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that outrageous allegation you made. It’s nonsense, but I assume you’ve uncovered something that bears on Master’s situation?’
‘Something, not enough. I’m hoping for more.’
‘From Stewart?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps from others.’
‘We should have a talk if you’ve got some solid information. I don’t much like what’s happening-people getting shot.’
‘Not when one of those people could be you.’
I heard his exasperated sigh. ‘You’re determined to be… recalcitrant. I’ll make the arrangements for you to see Master and leave a message. I’m going to be there when the police talk to Lorraine tomorrow. I hope you’re not.’
‘No way, I’ll be knuckle dragging down some mean street.’
‘You’re impossible.’ He hung up. He was getting good at that.
I handed the phone back to Hank. ‘Thanks.’
‘Okay. Trouble with the lawyer?’
‘No more than usual. D’you get relieved sometime?’
‘Sure.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In an hour.’
‘Got a car here?’
‘I do.’
‘How are you at debugging?’
He practically hugged me. ‘I’m the best and I’ve got the latest stuff.’
‘I suppose you’re a computer hotshot as well.’
‘Mac, PC, networks, I’m there.’
‘Hank,’ I said, ‘this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’
He laughed. ‘Bogie.’
I was relieved that he got the reference. ‘There’s a wine bar down the street. Meet me there when you’re free and we’ll do some business.’
Hank drove a Nissan Patrol 4WD and lived in Dover Heights. We called by his flat while he explained to his girlfriend, Pammy, an intense, bespectacled young woman, that he was moonlighting for me. She wasn’t pleased. I said it was only for a few hours but she still wasn’t pleased. Hank loaded some of those metal boxes into the Patrol and we were off.
‘Pammy’s not happy,’ I said.
‘Pammy doesn’t do happy. She’ll be okay.’
We went to my office and I could see that Hank loved everything about it-the decor, the smell, Stephanie Geller next door. I didn’t have the heart to tell him about the rent and the plumbing. He went straight to work with his gadgets and in no time flat located listening and monitoring devices in my telephone and fax.
‘You’ve been penetrated, man,’ he said.