Opening the thick, white wooden door, Grace looked at a set of stairs leading down into a black pit. There was an uprush of cold and mouldy air. The light revealed a cellar under the living room floor with walls dug out of the original rock. A single fluorescent tube lit the gloom. She moved forward but the first step shifted dangerously under her foot.
‘Don’t go down there,’ Freeman called out urgently. ‘I’m superstitious about it. People don’t always come out alive. Anyway, the steps are too fucking shaky now.’
Grace put her gun away and stepped back from the door tormented by the question: how could you do that to someone else? Harrigan had his own demons pursuing him in his work; this was the one that drove her. She left the door open and the light on. A place like that needed to be cleaned out with light and air.
There was a knock on the front door. ‘Good morning.’ It was a female voice.
Grace turned sharply to see a tall figure outlined in the doorway. Immediately, Freeman got to his feet, if shakily. Grace rested her hand on her bag, the gun within reach.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Can I come in?’
‘No, stay out on the fucking porch,’ Freeman said.
Undeterred, the woman walked into the room, her tall figure dwarfing his. Too weak to stand, Freeman had to sit down again.
‘Why don’t you take my card,’ she said, handing it to Grace.
‘Sam Jonas,’ Grace read, recognising the name from the card Harrigan had shown her the night before. ‘Have you got a reason for being here?’
‘I was about to ask you that.’
Grace looked her over. She was strong-looking. Even in this weather, she was wearing a leather jacket. Grace wondered if there was a shoulder holster underneath it. She stood watching the two of them with a stance that said whatever was going on here, she was in control.
‘Who do you think you are, walking in here like this?’ Grace asked, less out of anger than curiosity.
Sam smiled. ‘I go where I like and I do what I like. That’s a decision I made some time ago. But you haven’t come here just to pass the time of day. You’re Grace Riordan, aren’t you?’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Like a lot of people, you’re on the net. I met a friend of yours yesterday. Paul Harrigan. Did he tell you that? There are pictures of the two of you together out there in cyberspace. You must know that.’
Grace could say she possessed a very minor degree of fame. Harrigan was written up in the papers often enough, usually in the crime wrap but sometimes in the gossip columns. She had been photographed with him more than once and was usually described as the ex-policewoman who was his companion.
‘Why should you be interested in anything to do with me?’
‘I wasn’t particularly until now. Did Harrigan send you here?’ Sam asked.
Grace smiled back. ‘If you’re not going to answer my question, I’m not going to answer yours.’
Sam looked around, taking in the mess.
‘Looks like someone turned this place over pretty thoroughly,’ she said. ‘What would they be looking for? Did they find it? Or maybe they didn’t. Is that what you’re doing here? You’ve come to collect it.’
‘Jesus, lady. Why don’t you fucking get out of here? I don’t have the time left for you.’
Sam looked at Freeman in his chair.
‘You don’t look like you’ve got any time left at all. You two didn’t answer my question. Did they find what they were looking for?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Grace asked.
‘It’s my job to keep an eye on things. This is an interesting set of circumstances. Whatever this is about, I think I’m going to leave you to it and see what happens. My guess is, none of us has the time to hang around here.’
She walked out, Grace followed her.
‘What do you mean, none of us has the time? How dangerous is it to be here?’
‘Ask him. He should know.’ Sam nodded towards the open door and Freeman.
‘But you don’t care what happens to anyone here,’ Grace said. ‘Is that it?’
Sam turned sharply. Her gaze seemed to pin Grace to a square of paper with her name written across it.
‘You wouldn’t know what I care about or what I don’t. I don’t believe in getting in people’s way. I let them do what they want to do and then see what happens afterwards. To me, it’s the old story of the butterfly flapping its wings in the jungle somewhere. Who knows what the outcome will be? You’ve got a gun in that bag, haven’t you?’
‘What about you? Are you wearing one?’
‘Will you use yours? If you do, what will happen? Those are the real questions. Bye now.’ She grinned. ‘See you when I see you. If I do.’
Sam walked down the steps, across to the opposite corner of the lane and got into a blue Mazda with tinted windows. She drove away quickly. Grace watched her turn out of the street. It was otherwise empty. Not even the joggers or the dog-walkers had come out in this heat. The road tar shimmered thick and metallic, semi-fluid under the hot sun. She went back inside.
‘Is she gone?’
‘She just drove away. What’s going on? How dangerous is it to be here?’
‘I’ll try and make this fast. Give me my keys, mate. I’ll get you those tapes.’ He levered himself out of his chair. ‘They pulled up all my fucking carpets but they missed this. My mate put this in. I reckon it’s pretty fucking nifty.’
He knelt down by the fireplace. She watched him insert a needle-like rod into a tiny gap between the floorboards and the ornate Art Nouveau tiles. There was a click and a square of tiles flicked up like a jack-in-a-box. Freeman took out a clear plastic bag containing a collection of miniature audio cassette tapes. Then he shut the square of tiles and put his keys back in his pocket.
‘Help me up, mate.’
She gripped him under his arm, feeling the slack muscles, helping him to his feet and then into the chair.
‘This is the tape you want. The rest are just deals and money.’
He handed her the single tape, marked with a white sticker, then put the plastic bag on the arm of the chair. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes again. Grace put the tape into her bag.
‘What’s on this tape that’s different?’
‘First off, that’s the one where Mike shoots his mouth off about Paulie and Eddie Lee. But mostly it’s about Jerome Beck.’
‘Who was he?’ she asked.
‘Good fucking question. Six, seven months ago, Stewie says he’s got someone who wants in with us. Someone with money. Ta-di-dah, Beck turns up. Nasty piece of shit. From the first I thought, what the fuck are you really up to, mate? He wasn’t that interested in our syndicate, he wanted our contacts. He was importing diamonds and he didn’t want anyone giving his couriers shit. Stewie was in on that deal. He had a couple of diamonds Beck had given him. Why the fuck was he throwing those things around? It was stupid, drawing attention to himself. I didn’t trust him. I started taping him along with Baby Tooth. Anyway, it all happened. Beck got his shipment of rocks in, we got our payoff. Trouble was, Mike got curious. You see, Beck had another deal going with Stewie and Nattie Edwards, the diamonds were paying for it. Beck kept saying he was going to make a shitload of money out of that deal, like a real shitload. It’d make the diamonds look like crap. That was a red rag to Mike. He wanted in, wanted to know what it was all about.’
‘You said Beck was nasty.’
‘He had a chip on his shoulder. He drank like a fucking fish, and when he did he got vicious. You could see he thought we were nothing. He used to talk all the time like he was somebody special and we were living in a garbage dump. Anyway, by the time he got his rocks here, Beck had worked out that Stewie was pretty fucking useless except when it came to ripping a dollar off his mates. But Mike had contacts, good contacts. Some of them went all the way to the Bearpit. That was useful, Beck wanted those. So he made out he was going to sideline Stewie and bring in Mike. What he was really doing was playing them off one against the other. I told Mike that. He wouldn’t listen, of course. He kept pushing at Beck, saying, come on, count me in. Then one day, out of the blue, Beck takes Mike to this place down south. Some bright, new, shiny laboratory that’s just been built out at Campbelltown. Fancy name. Life Patent Strategies.’ Freeman put a sarcastic edge on the words. ‘Beck takes Mike on a tour, says to him, you want be in on this other deal I’ve got going with Stewie and Nattie? Then you need to see this place because this is where it all happens. Funny thing was, that place really put the wind up Mike. He came back and said no way. Started talking about cutting Beck out. He didn’t want anything to do with him any more.’