The Undertow

Hank didn't take offence, one of his strengths. 'Okay, we know he's got some helpers,' Hank said. 'What I can't understand is why he wants to see Mrs Heysen. Why he's back here at all.'

'They were lovers,' I said.

Hank took his cigarette pack out, glanced at Frank and put it away. 'So? Ancient history.'

'It doesn't feel that ancient,' Frank said.

I'd hardly touched my drink. Now I took a sip. 'At least we can be sure Heysen did the operation on Sawtell and botched it. Sawtell got away but he was a good-looking guy whose face was ruined. He took revenge on Heysen. But Hank's question remains.'

We sat there with no answers. Then my mobile rang.

24

Don't answer it,' Frank said.

Hank stared at him.

'String him along for a bit. Don't give him the high ground.'

The phone rang for a while, then stopped. Hank nodded. 'Guess you've been in this kind of situation before. First time for me.'

'Not exactly,' Frank said, 'but there are certain principles, right, Cliff?'

'That's right,' I said. 'The trouble is they change with the circumstances.'

Hank shook his head. 'That means they're not principles. Let's say a principle is we don't let Sawtell meet with Mrs Heysen. Will that hold for all circumstances?'

'Yes,' Frank said.

'Then how does anything happen?'

Frank looked at me. 'Remember the Patterson siege?'

I did. Wilbur Patterson was a serial killer who'd holed up in his mother's house with his father as a hostage. He wanted to meet with his girlfriend and the police had no doubt he'd kill her and his father.

'It was before your time here, Hank.' I gave him the essentials.

'So what went down?'

'We used a stand-in for the girlfriend,' Frank said.

'How'd it come out?'

'Pretty good-the father wounded, the stand-in unharmed, Patterson dead.'

'A win.'

Frank took a sip of his drink. 'We were lucky. Patterson had poor eyesight and he panicked.'

'Doesn't sound like this Sawtell's the panicky type.'

'No,' I said. 'But he must be under pressure of some kind or he wouldn't be into this. What worries me is a feeling I have that he doesn't care whether he comes out of it alive or not. That's about as bad as it gets in these things.'

The phone rang again. Frank looked at his watch and shook his head. 'Next time.'

'What if he changes his mind?' Hank said. 'Cuts his losses. We don't know where he is. He's home free.'

'That's not Sawtell,' Frank said. 'He does what he says he'll do.'

'How'd he get caught then?'

I'd read the cuttings and could answer that. 'He trusted two people he shouldn't have.'

'So he's a poor judge of character?'

I nudged the mobile with a pen, just to be doing something. 'Aren't we all.'

The phone rang again and I picked it up.

'Hardy.'

'You're in your office in Newtown. You have two men with you. One's vaguely familiar but I can't place him. I don't know the other one.'

'They'd love to meet you,' I said.

'I bet. I wonder if they'd like to meet the shottie.'

'They'd cope.' I scribbled a note to Hank. He read it and was on his way instantly. 'How're you coping, Sawtell? I spoke to a woman who saw you at William's travel place. She wasn't attracted.'

He laughed. 'You'd be surprised how many are. Like I said, I want to see Catherine.'

Frank was at my elbow and I scribbled the gist of what Sawtell was saying.

'Well, I suppose that might be possible. She'd need to know that William was safe.'

'Fair enough. I'd let her talk to him and instruct my little helper to let him go when I was satisfied.'

'What would satisfy you?'

'Wait and see.'

'We'd need a bit more than that.'

'So would I, like a clear passage out. Who's that with you? I can tell you're communicating.'

I wrote: 'Wants a getaway route. Who're you?'

Frank took the phone. 'This is Frank Parker, Sawtell. Remember me?'

I didn't hear Sawtell's response but he must have asked what rank Frank had achieved because Frank said, 'Deputy commissioner.'

Frank took over the scribbling role and wrote: 'Two birds, one stone'.

He said, 'What does that mean?'

'No police-William dead', he wrote.

'I hear you,' Frank said. 'Like to tell me why you're doing this?'

Frank sat with the phone in his hand, evidently with nothing coming through it. 'Sawtell?'

Then Frank waved the phone in the air, indicating that the call was finished. The last words he'd written were 'three hours'.

'What?' I said.

'Three hours to set it up. He'll call again with the arrangement.'

'It's hard to follow a two-way conversation from notes. Did you.. pick up anything useful? Apart from what the bastard wants?'

Frank was silent and I had to prompt him. 'Frank?'

'I'm thinking. What did you pick up?'

I asked him about the two birds with one stone remark. He nodded. 'Means he knows Catherine dumped him for me.'

'The idea is to kill two birds with one stone, isn't it?' 'Right.'

'The only other bit I got was a funny thing he said. He referred to his little helper. How about you?'

'Nothing. A bit of hesitation when I asked him why he was doing it. He called me Mr Clean.'

Frank went back to his chair and drained his paper cup. All of a sudden he looked old and strained again, the way he had when this whole thing started. He pushed the cup towards me. 'Any more of that rotgut on hand?'

I poured him another slug and some for myself. It wasn't the answer to the fix we were in, but sometimes when you run out of ideas it seems like the only thing to do. It didn't look good for William and I thought about that as I sipped the drink. I hadn't liked him and could spare him, but then, I didn't like his mother either. Shouldn't matter, she was my client-or was she still? Very different for Frank-an old lover and a new son. No wonder he was feeling the strain.

I was about to say something just to break the silence when the desk phone rang.

'Cliff,' Hank Bachelor said. 'I got him. Would you believe he's driving that Commodore clunker?'

I mouthed Hank's name to Frank. 'That was careless.'

'Yeah. You'll never guess where he's gone.'

'Hank, Sawtell's given us three hours. No time for guessing games. Tell us.'

'Didn't you say Mrs Heysen lived in Earlwood? That's where we are. Big place near the river. Got a for sale sign out.'

I relayed this to Frank.

'That's crazy,' Frank said.

'What do you want me to do, Cliff?' Hank said.

'Has he gone into the house?'

'No, he's sitting in the car outside. Using his cell phone a bit.'

'Stay there. I'll get back to you. Did you see the driver?'

'Yeah, he stopped for smokes. Little guy.'

I hung up. 'Hank says he was small.'

'The little helper. This is weird. I can't imagine what he's playing at. It's crazy.'

'You said that already. Did he sound… unhinged to you?'

'No, but like I told you, he wouldn't, no matter what was going through his head.'

'One thing's clear-he's obsessed with the Heysens. Is there any way he'd know where Catherine is? Did her people live in Lane Cove back when Sawtell knew her?'

'No, Rockdale.'

'They stepped up. Let's assume he doesn't know where she is and can't check that she's not going anywhere. He only referred to one helper this time.'

'Well, he killed the other one.'

'Right. So he's at Earlwood with William and with one person in support. We outnumber them.'

'You're saying we go over there and do a Clint Eastwood?'

'It's a corner block. Easy access. Bachelor's got a stun gun and capsicum spray.'