‘Talk first. Clam up and I pour it down the sink a drop at a time.’
‘Christ, Hardy, have a heart.’
‘Sammy, I haven’t got the time for games. You were watching Karen Weiner’s flat. That I know. What happened next?’
‘N-nothing. I found out who she was. Pretty smart, eh?’ He forced himself up onto his elbows and looked at me with his chins up. ‘I haven’t lost the touch.’ He looked around at the room and let himself slide back. ‘Yes I have,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve lost the fuckin’ touch.’
‘Cut out the self pity. What did you see?’
‘I saw where she lived. Saw her husband come by before he went off to the Philippines or wherever. Saw her up at her window.’
‘And you saw someone march her out, didn’t you?’
‘I dunno. Come on, I need that drink.’
I picked up the flagon and swilled the few inches in the bottom around. ‘It’s not good for you, Sammy.’
‘Okay, okay, she left with this weird-looking guy. I dunno who he was or anything. He could’ve been her pusher. You know what they’re like. Some of them go for the rough stuff.’
I gave him the flagon and he drained it in a long gulp. He shuddered. ‘God, that’s rough.’
‘Chivas Regal’d taste rough to you now. We’ll get back to the bloke when your mind’s cleared. What’s all this? What put you back on the piss?’
Weiss dropped the flagon to the floor. ‘I had it. The big story. January and Weiner’s wife. January was making all that noise in the States. He’d come back a hero and I could pull the plug on him. I could do it slow or fast.’ His voice trailed off and I had to move closer to the smell to hear him.’ I could milk it a bit. Get a few statements from the colleagues. Test the water…’
‘So what happened?’
He belched and I moved back again. ‘ I had a few to celebrate,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Then I came back here to write. And I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get into it. Couldn’t find a hook. Just couldn’t…’
‘So you went out for more help?’
‘Yeah. No bloody good. I tried. See the paper? I tried, but it’s all shit. I can’t do it.’
‘Did you make any phone calls? Talk to anyone?’
He shook his head and groaned.
‘That’s tough, Sammy. I’m bleeding for you. But this is more important. The Weiner woman’s been kidnapped and January’s the one getting the pressure. Tell me about the man who took her away.’
I was watching Weiss’s face, looking for signs that would help me to assess what he said. Suddenly I was aware of someone watching me. I turned towards the open door but the gap was filled with the big, wide body of Inspector Lloyd Tobin. The man named Ken with whom I hadn’t hit it off at lunch stood behind him. Tobin took a slow, heavy step into the room.
‘This is all very interesting, Hardy. Why don’t we have a nice quiet talk about it?’
25
Weiss levered himself up again.
‘Gidday, Lloyd, what…?’
‘Shut up.’ Tobin came into the room; Ken followed, closed the door and stood with his back to it. Ken’s pale eyes were riveted on me as if he’d memorised everything else about the room and was now concentrating on the essentials.
I moved away from the bed. ‘Tobin,’ I said. ‘Family matter?’
‘Don’t piss me around, Hardy.’ He was wheezing with the effort of having climbed the stairs. ‘What’s this about January and a kidnapping?’
I shrugged. Ken smiled and took his hands out of his pockets.
‘God, it stinks in here,’ Tobin said. ‘How can you live like this, Sammy?’
‘He’s got no graft coming in,’ I said.
Tobin shook his head. ‘You’re obvious, Hardy. That’s your trouble. We’re going to talk about this the hard way or the easy way. Which is it to be?’
‘What’s the hard way?’
‘After Ken here knocks you around a bit.’
‘Oh, that’s all right then,’ I said. ‘I thought you were going to try it yourself. I’m not too worried about Ken. Nobody with razor cut hair ever gave me much trouble.’
Weiss had fallen back on the bed. He watched us with wide eyes and kept licking his dry, cracked lips. Tobin eased his big shoulders inside the well-cut suit. ‘I didn’t mean a fair fight, Hardy. I’d join in from time to time. We could take as long as we liked. No one’d care in a shit hole like this. I could’ve made busts for six different offences on the way up.’
I was thinking fast. I hadn’t got anything out of Weiss of value yet and it was clear I wasn’t going to get a private session with him. Also there was no point in trying to keep January’s association with Karen Weiner secret. If Weiss didn’t tell Tobin he’d tell someone else. Tobin wasn’t my idea of an ally but this time he wasn’t an outright enemy either. I sat down on the chair by the card table.
‘We can talk, Tobin. Just as an act of good faith, how about telling me what brought you here?’
Ken looked disappointed but Tobin’s rubber hose days were behind him. He relaxed, sniffed a few times, brushed the blanket with his hand and perched on the end of the bed like a fat owl.
‘Fair enough, Hardy. I heard that this piece of shit was celebrating. Off the water wagon and back on the hard stuff. I wondered what he had to celebrate. The last I’d heard from him was about you and January. I thought there might be something in it for me. Is there?’
‘What’re your politics, Tobin?’
‘Politics? Shit. My politics’re vote for Lloyd Tobin. He knows what’s best for himself.’
‘That’s what I thought. Well, it’s like this. January’s mistress is Karen Weiner. Her husband is…’
‘I know who he is. So?’
‘There’s some crazy out to get January. He bombed the office, took a shot at Trudi Bell…’
‘I don’t remember a report on that last incident.’
‘There wasn’t one. It was just before we went to Washington.’
‘Where January nearly got barbecued. You’ve got an exciting job, Hardy.’ Tobin took out a tin of cigars and lit one; he blew out a stream of smoke as if he was spraying disinfectant around. ‘And Mrs Weiner’s been kidnapped, did I hear you say?’
‘That’s right. I think Sammy saw the kidnapper. I’ve got a few other possible leads on him. Nothing much.’
‘Sammy’ll tell us all about him, won’t you, Sammy?’
‘Not much to tell,’ Weiss muttered.
‘You’d be surprised.’ Tobin puffed more smoke. ‘A bomber and a gun merchant. Sounds promising, Hardy.’
‘I don’t think it’s political or terrorist. Seems to be personal.’
‘That could depend on your point of view. Well, it seems as if we’re both holding good hands. I’ve got control of Sammy’s information and you’ve got leads and…background. Right?’
I nodded. Tobin was corrupt and ruthlessly ambitious and a hundred other unlikeable things but he wasn’t stupid. I looked at the typewriter on the desk in front of me. The sheet of paper sticking up had a half line of type on it: ‘Peter January’s erogenous zones…’ Ken shifted his feet impatiently.
I suppressed a sneeze; the air was dusty as well as evil-smelling. ‘As they say in Washington, Tobin, we need to cut a deal.’
‘You do,’ Ken said.
Tobin tapped ash onto the floor. ‘Shut up, Ken. Let’s hear it, Hardy.’
‘We cooperate. You get the bomber but with a minimum of violence and getting Karen Weiner out safe is the top priority. I control the story. I keep January as clean as I can.’
Weiss yelped: ‘Hey, that’s my story!’
‘Shut up! Okay, Hardy, you’ve got a deal. Let’s hear all about it, Sammy. It happened before you got pissed, I take it, so I want it all crystal clear.’
‘Not here,’ Weiss moaned. ‘I need to clean up and breathe some fresh air. I need some coffee.’
Tobin looked at me. ‘How long’ve we got?’
‘Next contact is seven o’clock tomorrow.’
Tobin stood up. ‘Tons of time. Let’s get out of this pigsty.’
Weiss washed his face, got dressed and we tramped down the stairs. Tobin wheezed after one flight. Outside, he pointed across King Street. ‘McDonalds,’ he said. ‘I’m hungry.’