Saving Billie

The coffee was thin so I put in sugar to give it some taste. He ate some more and drank his coke. I took the photo from my pocket and showed it to him. Billie fitted Lou's description pretty well-blonde, good looking, a bit tough but with a good smile and lively eyes. She wore a tight top and even tighter pants. Heels. She was smiling down at the dark-skinned boy as if he was the most precious thing on earth. Tommy looked at the photo, still chewing, but more slowly.

'Yeah, that's her.'

'What about the kid?'

'How old's this picture?'

'I've been told it could be five years.'

'So the kid's grown and that. I dunno, he might be around.'

'Is she around?'

Now he was definitely stalling. He took a long swig on his coke and reached for his cigarettes. I stopped him.

'C'mon, Tommy. If you want the money…'

'Money ain't everything.'

'True.'

'But if you got none, nothin' ain't nothin'.'

'If I want philosophy I can read a book.'

'We've gotta problem.'

'We?'

'You 'cos you want the woman and me 'cos I want the dough.'

'Look, it's hot. I got bashed the other night and I'm hurting a bit. You've earned your fifty but there's not a bloody cent more unless you tell me what you know. Up to you. It's nothing to me, the money-just an expense for my client.'

'Good game you're in, brother.'

I took off my sunglasses and showed him the battered eye. 'You reckon?'

'Shit. You gotta gun, Cliff?'

Because of what I'd heard about Liston and Billie and what I knew about Eddie Flannery, I had my Smith amp; Wesson in the glove box, but I wasn't about to tell that to Tommy.

'I might have,' I said.

'You better. You heard Coralie say something about putting the men onto me if I fucked her over?'

I nodded.

'She's talkin' about some people who sort of run things around here. Mostly coconuts, but with some Kooris and gubbahs thrown in, like.'

'Yes?'

'They handle the evictions and that for the Department. Booted my dad out a while ago and he's gone back to the Block. I'm still hangin' here trying to get a job.'

'The woman?'

'I seen her with one of them. Real tough bastard named Yoli. Lives here, but I dunno if she's still around.'

'When did you last see her?'

'Coupla days ago. Couldn't miss her though with the fair hair. Not usual around here. She looked crook. And I heard Yoli call her Billie-well, he like shouted at her to go inside. Heard you say the name when you was talking to Big Johnny.'

'Another hundred if you show me where he lives.'

He shook his head. 'Two hundred, man. I'll have to get the fuck outa here. If Yoli found out I told you he'd fuckin' kill me.'

'All right. Yoli, is that a nickname? What's his full name?'

'Yolande something-Potare, Potato, the funny names they got, the fuckin' Fijis. I can give you the address but I can't go with you, understand?'

I took out my wallet and gave him two fifties. 'That's for the address. I'll meet you later anywhere you say to give you the rest.'

'Fuck, you mightn't show.'

'So we're both taking a chance.'

'How long're you goin' to be?'

'I don't know.'

He gave me the address and said he'd wait for me at the Campbelltown railway station for the rest of the afternoon. He gathered up the remainder of his food and dropped it with the coke bottle into the nearest bin. He gave me a good citizen grin, lit a cigarette and walked away.

7

The address Tommy gave me was the end unit in a row a few streets back from the shopping centre. The units were all of a piece-two storeyed but narrow with minimal front yards and not much more space at the back. The one I was interested in at least had some grass and a few shrubs at the side. I drove past it twice, the second time more quickly. It wasn't smarter or shabbier than the others, although the car parked outside looked to be derelict or close to it and there was a non-operational washing machine sitting out in the sun in the side yard.

I parked in the thin shade thrown by a struggling tree at the edge of the recreation area and thought the matter over. Yoli sounded like a handful and I was in no condition to go up against an aggressive Polynesian vigilante who no doubt had plenty of backup.

The people had thinned out before, presumably going home for lunch. Now the public space was filling up again, with kids kicking a soccer ball around, shoppers carrying plastic bags from the supermarket and others gathering for a meeting of some kind at the primary school. A couple of 180-centimetre plus teenage boys whizzed around on bikes so small their knees were up under their chins as they pedalled. One of them could've been Billie's boy.

I drove back to the street and parked where I could keep the unit in sight and not be seen myself. There were several cars parked nearby, more than was common in the area. The police car cruised up and parked in front of me. One of the cops got busy checking on my registration; the other got out and walked back towards me.

'Could I see your licence, sir?'

I handed it to him and he went back to the car and conferred with his colleague. He was young, unimpressed by the Falcon, unimpressed by me. I got out and stood by the car so I wouldn't be peering up at him. He handed back the licence.

'Spotted you around over the past hour and a bit, Mr Hardy. Would you tell me what you're doing here?'

I took out the folder with my PEA licence and showed it to him. 'I'm working.'

'Doing what?'

I shook my head. 'I'm not causing any trouble.'

'You better not. If you're still here when we come around again we'll cause some trouble for you.'

Fair enough. The fight outside the protection centre, the shutdown bottle shop and the graffiti suggested that the area was volatile with its racial mixture and poverty. They didn't need the likes of me. He hitched the belt holding all the equipment they carry these days, went back to his car and they drove off.

I still had no idea what to do and now I was under time pressure. A minute later a car pulled up outside the unit. The man who got out made the Hilux 4WD look small- John Manuma. Seeing him at full stretch for the second time, I realised he was as big a man as I'd ever seen anywhere. It made me even more reluctant to tackle the place.

Manuma stepped over the gate, marched up to the front door and went straight in. He stayed for less than five minutes, stalked back to his car looking angry, and drove away. Could he be an ally despite our earlier encounter? I doubted it. Then she came out. Billie. Had to be. She had the platinum hair, the short skirt and skimpy top, the legs, the stacked-heel sandals. She shouted something back at the door of the unit as it was slammed shut, then she spun around and went towards her car. With a snarl on her face and her shoulders thrown aggressively back, she reminded me of Mike Carlton's description of Rose Hancock-all tits and teeth.

Her car was a white VW Golf. She slung her shoulder bag inside, got in, gunned the motor and took off, burning rubber. I was glad to be up and running after all the indecision. I let her get well ahead and followed, feeling guilty about being relieved I hadn't had to front the vigilantes, but confident, at last, of making some progress. She kept up a steady speed just above the limit, looking as keen to leave Liston behind her as I was. She slowed down through Campbelltown, observed the signs and the limits, and was easy to follow. I spared a brief thought for Tommy as I passed the railway station but nothing more. He'd done okay and, as it turned out, I hadn't put him in jeopardy.

The Golf picked up speed. Not Billie's kind of car, I would have thought, but she drove it well, asserting herself but not dangerously. For no good reason other than what I'd been told about Billie, I expected her to take the highway to the big smoke. Not so. She headed down the road to everywhere south of Sydney and I settled back for a long drive. Fooled me again. We reached the old town of Picton. It's funny the things that come back to you. I remember having to do a school project on country towns and Picton was one that fell to me. All I remember is that it was named after a general who got killed at the Battle of Waterloo. At that age I was more interested in battles than economics, still am for that matter. So I don't remember what got Picton established. Mining probably, and dairying-always safe bets.