I put the beer down on the verandah rail, took my mobile from my pants pocket and called Farrow.
‘Hardy.’ His voice was an angry rasp. ‘Where the fuck are you? What was all that shit last night?’
‘Did you find Wendy and her pals?’
‘No.’
‘Did you search Lonsdale’s place?’
‘No comment. What’re you playing at?’
I couldn’t hang around much longer. Someone was bound to spot Purcell. I tossed up whether or not to tell Farrow about it. I decided. I told him where he’d find the body of a man I thought to be an undercover policeman.
‘Stay there,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I’ll do that so you can take me in and keep me on a chair for the rest of the day and probably longer.’
‘Stay there.’
‘No chance, and I’ll give you this for free-I don’t think every single one of your colleagues is playing on your team.’
‘What the hell do you mean?’
I cut the connection and drained the beer. The trick to walking as if you’re unconcerned isn’t to whistle or put your hands in your pockets. It’s a matter of minimal upper body movement and pace and line. I reached the Hyundai, unlocked it, got in and drove out of the car park without glancing at the Land Cruiser, although I gave Purcell a silent salutation as I went past.
I headed back to Wollongong. Two police cars going full pelt with sirens screaming shot by as I drove at a sedate pace. I had very little idea what to do next, particularly as I wasn’t even sure I had a client after last night’s doings. I parked behind the railway station and called Elizabeth Farmer. No reply at home; voicemail at the university. I swore several times, then the phone rang.
‘Cliff, this is Tania Vronsky. I just missed your call.’
‘I was checking to see if Elizabeth was still employing me.’
‘Why wouldn’t she be?’
I told her about the phone call from Elizabeth and she laughed. ‘Oh, she’s like that. Jealous as hell. No, I didn’t get off with Jude. She was much more pissed than me by the time we finished playing. I got her home and then got back myself, very late. All’s well. How’re things working out for you?’
‘I don’t know. When you next see Elizabeth tell her I’m still on it and sort of making progress, but the cops might be calling on her.’
‘How exciting. Fact is, Cliff, this business has given our relationship quite a boost. What does she tell them?’
‘The truth,’ I said.
I was sitting there indecisively when I became aware of someone standing by the passenger window. DS Barton of Bellambi rapped on the glass with his pistol, gesturing for me to open that door and the one behind me. He’d have no trouble shooting me through the glass and no compunction either, from the look of him. I opened the doors. A man slid in to the back seat as Barton got in beside me. I took a quick look in the rear vision mirror. Didn’t know him, but everything about him said cop.
‘You look surprised, Hardy.’
‘I am.’
‘Because you’re not in your car?’
‘Yes.’
He held the pistol low, out of sight. ‘Can’t figure it out?’
‘No.’
‘Your girlfriend reported it stolen. You became a hot item after that performance last night. Wasn’t too hard to pick you up.’
I let out a long slow breath. Marisha Karatsky was certainly full of surprises. I was careful to keep my hands in sight on the wheel. Not that it’d make much difference. If Barton wanted to shoot me he could. It was between trains and there was no one much about and it was a fair bet that either I’d have a gun he could use to make it look okay or he’d have a throw-down to hand. It’d been done before.
‘So what’s this about?’ I said.
‘I thought you were smart enough to take a hint that you weren’t wanted down here.’
‘I’m a little slow sometimes.’
‘That can be just as fatal as speed. Start the car and go where I tell you.’
‘Suppose I don’t?’
‘Then you get a clout on the head from behind and you go where we’re going anyway.’
I started the engine. ‘Are you going to let me know what this’s about?’
‘I don’t think so. Just shut up and do as you’re told. Put your seatbelt on and no heroics.’
For the second time, and too close to the first, I felt gun metal behind my ear. Different deal this time-two to contend with and them official and probably experienced at this sort of work. Even if I contrived some kind of crash, I’d be too dead to take any advantage. I had nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer, no way to threaten. I drove like an automaton, obeying Barton’s instructions because there seemed nothing else to do. I was beginning to get the blank-to-everything-around-me feeling, as if I was dead already.
‘Scared, Hardy?’
Barton was breaking his own rules but I couldn’t see much hope in that. If he was a little nervous all that was likely to happen was that he wouldn’t do a clean job.
‘I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.’
‘Oh, job satisfaction? I’ve got plenty of that.’
‘Nice hit on the undercover guy. Who’s handy with the.22-you or the silent one in the back?’
‘Not something for you to worry about.’
‘You might worry about who he’s told what to.’
‘Oh, I know all that. And I know he’s told you bugger-all.’
I chewed that over just to have something else to think about. If what Barton said was true, Purcell’s operation was compromised somehow. Too bad. He’d seemed good at what he did.
I realised that we were heading for the waste area where the bikies held their races and drug supermarket. I hadn’t taken in much about it on my last visit because my night vision isn’t all that flash. Seemed like a good place for what this pair had in mind-quiet when not noisy, out of the way, dirty, and with lots of leather and denim watchdogs. All the traffic had dropped away as we’d left the main roads and now we were on a rough, narrow strip of bitumen that was rotting and falling in at the sides. It twisted and turned as it went through patches of scrub and saltwater flats-not the best scenery for your last look at the world.
A couple of buildings I hadn’t noticed before were scattered around the area-sheds mostly, a couple of shipping containers, a sagging prefab garage. Barton directed me to drive over close to the garage which meant going around a high pile of aggregate being readied for laying. I considered trying to run the car up its side to get it to roll and then take my chances but with two guns on me the chances weren’t worth the effort.
I pulled up by the garage. ‘Now what?’
‘Out carefully, hands behind.’
I stepped out and Barton’s mate neatly handcuffed me.
‘Right,’ Barton said. ‘Let’s get this over with. Get the bobcat, Jake.’
Jake slid open the garage doors. I heard an engine start up and the bobcat lurched out into the sunlight. It stalled. Jake swore and got the motor running again at high, noisy revs. Another stall and he repeated the procedure.
‘Has he got a licence for that thing?’ I said.
‘Brave face. On your knees, Hardy.’
‘No chance.’ I turned and walked away from him. There was nowhere to go and I knew I couldn’t outrun him with my hands pinioned, but he was going to have to chase me and shoot me and when he did I was going to be on my feet.
‘Stop!’
I didn’t.
I heard the shot and for an instant I thought he’d missed and waited for the next. Then three shots followed in quick succession and I hit the dirt, fast and hard. Without hands to protect my fall I landed on my face, bounced and skidded and my eyes and mouth filled with dirt. I lay still, spluttering and coughing and blinking. I rolled onto my side and screwed around to look back. The bobcat was where it had stopped and its motor was still running but Jake wasn’t at the controls. He was pushed back against it with his hands held high. A figure writhed on the ground, yelling obscenities and throwing up little puffs of dust.
I pulled myself up, tripped and fell and got up again. My eyes were streaming but my vision was clearing. A man who I could now see was in uniform jerked Jake’s hands down and cuffed him. The other man stood near the figure on the ground talking into his mobile phone. He started walking towards me, still talking, and I could see that he held a pistol in his hand. He stopped talking and closed the phone. I backed off a few steps, not knowing what to think.