I woke Penny up and we got on the road again. I was tired and edgy from the heat and the travelling and the unravelling of people’s private lives. And this was just the beginning; the real sortings-out were ahead. I smoked and the tobacco tasted like old spinach. Penny looked at me as I swore and threw the butt away.
“What’s the matter?” she said. “Is the tape alright?”
“The tape’s fine. I feel lousy.”
She looked and smelled fresh. The breeze was in her afro mop and there wasn’t a drop of sweat on her.
“Too much beer,” she said shortly. “Have you thought what you’re going to do next?” She clicked her tongue. “I can’t see how that tape will help you.”
I wasn’t quite sure myself. It had confirmed things I’d sensed, things about a quiet, dark man who’d dumped his son, parted ways with another man and gone to pieces. Twelve years ago. If I was going up against a talking situation the more I knew the better. Trouble was, it might be a shooting situation. I was afraid of that; I didn’t trust Penny not to do something independent and dangerous under those conditions. I considered calling in the cops but rejected the idea quickly. To do that would up the chances of shooting starting. That is, if the cops didn’t just run me straight out of town. Macleay cops would feel about an armed private detective wandering about with an Aboriginal girl calling in on the hospital and the black citizens, like they would about a drop in pay. I didn’t say anything. I thought and sulked and drove.
It was nearly four when we got back into town; long shadows were starting to drape themselves over the streets and the air had cooled. The sky was like a sheet of pale blue silk stretched over the frame of the world. It would be a good night for taking a walk, or going to a drive-in or doing almost anything other than what I had to do. I drove up the back street and stopped by the derelict shop.
“We watch for a minute from there,” I told Penny.
“Then what?”
“I’ll phone the place and start bargaining.”
“For Noni,” she sneered.
“Right. Come on.”
The street was empty. A factory faced the shop from across the road and nothing seemed to be going on there. I grabbed the binoculars and got out of the car. Penny followed me as I picked my way through the rubble of the shop’s ground level. I took a quick look at the back of the garage before going up the staircase and what I saw made me stop in my tracks. Penny bumped into me and swore.
“Shut up,” I hissed. “I don’t like this.”
“What?”
“See that car, the yellow one?”
The yellow Mini was parked at the back of the garage. I could see the tape holding the rear window together. I’d seen the car before – in the street outside Saul James’ terrace house in Darlinghurst.
“I see the Mini. So what?”
“It belongs to Noni’s boyfriend, actor named James. He’s the last person I need around just now.”
“Isn’t that nice?” she purred, “Noni’s boyfriend. Tough character is he?”
I laughed. “Just the reverse. Soft as mush.”
“Is he in on it, the kidnapping?”
“I can’t see how.” I considered it. “No, no chance. He’s blundered into it somehow and it screws it all up.”
“How?”
“He’s a potential hostage for one thing, and if he was thinking of coming up here he might have told someone else. He might have told Tarelton. The army could be on the way.”
“Your precious Noni could get hurt,” she crooned.
I lost my temper and rounded on her. “Drop it Penny! This is serious, I’ve got bad feelings about what’s going on in there. It’s not just Noni who might get killed. Another man’s dead anyway.”
“Who? There was panic in her voice.” What are you talking about, who’s dead?”
I got myself under control and felt disgust at my outburst, but it was too late to play secrets. “It’s time to come clean Penny, to stop the games. I’ll tell you something you don’t know. Berrigan’s not in there. He’s dead. He was shot in a park in Balmain the other night. I know because I was there, in fact the police think I did it. Now I’ll tell you something you think I don’t know. Ricky Simmonds is in that garage.”
I heard the quick intake of her breath and felt her stiffen beside me.
“How did you know?” she said softly.
“I wasn’t sure until I checked at the cafe. You saw Noni and Berrigan alright. You also saw Ricky. I didn’t think you’d go through all this just for revenge on Noni. Ricky’s your obsession – which is worse luck for you.”
“Why?”
“Remember you told me he seemed to be looking for someone, a young man?”
“Yes.”
“He was looking for his father. That’s alright, nothing wrong with that. But who do you think it was who got shot at Bare Island? Who do you think shot him and why?”
She was silent and another voice cut in from behind us.
“Don’t let it worry you Penny.”
We turned together, he held the rifle steadily on the centre of my chest and it wasn’t far away, not a fraction of a second away. My gun was in the car, light years away, the binoculars were on the staircase where I’d put them when I spotted James’ car. He was standing with his feet nicely spaced in a clear spot. I was off balance on a pile of rubble.
Penny stirred beside me. The rifle didn’t waver but his voice was sharp and menacing.
“Easy Pen, easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But you will if you have to,” I said.
“That’s right mister. I got nothing to lose now. I been waiting for you. Saw you last time – who are you anyway?”
“Let’s go inside and talk about it.” I tried to get balance and a better foothold but I was kidding myself. There’s something about a couple of feet of rifle barrel and the black hole at the end that stiffens your muscles and throws your hand-eye co-ordination to hell. I just stood there. All I could do was talk.
“We have to go inside,” I said. “You can’t shoot us here. How’s James? How’s Bert?”
He ignored the remarks and made his decision.
“Go out through the back door and up to the fence. I swear I’ll blow your head open if you try anything. Sorry Pen, you too.”
We went. The yard at the back of the shop was a rubbish heap – bottles and deadly missiles by the hundred – but I believed he’d do what he said and I tried to look as innocent as a man on a golf course. The back fence was missing palings and there were plenty of places for a person to step through it.
“That’s far enough,” Ricky snapped. “Perce!”
He yelled the name again and the man I’d seen before came out the door carrying a sawn-off shotgun, double-barrelled. The stock had been cut back too and was wound around with black insulation tape. It wasn’t for rabbits.
“Get through. You first, Pen. Nice and easy.”
Penny slipped through and I bent and followed her. This brought me to within a few feet of the man with the shotgun. He was fiftyish and every day of it showed in his face which was lined and creased like an old boxing glove. His body was thick, still strong-looking but with the mark of thousands of measures of alcohol on it. His hands seemed to be shaking slightly and that was even more frightening than Ricky’s steely strength. I shot a look at James’ car. It was dusty and travel-stained; its bright cheerful yellow was dimmed but still incongruous in the surroundings. I wondered what had brought the owner here and how he was coping; how his stagey manners were standing up to the real-life situation.
I half turned and spoke to Ricky who’d come through the fence with the rifle still nicely poised for use. I nodded at the car.
“Why’s he here?”
“Christ knows.” It was the first indication that he wasn’t in total control, with everything figured out. Maybe that was a good sign, maybe not. I told myself it was. Perce moved aside and we went out of the fading sunlight into the near night of the workshop. Before we went inside I saw close-up what had disturbed me during my earlier, apparently incompetent, surveillance. By the door there was a cut-down oil drum with a crank handle sticking out of it. A cloud of flies buzzed around the metal shaft and the top of the drum.
I wasn’t prepared for her; I’d chased her up and down the coast and looked at her picture and talked to a dozen people about her, but I still wasn’t ready for the impact of her. She was taller than I expected, leaning against Bert’s workbench, and somehow more vivid. Her hair was a dark blonde tangle and she had one of the most passionate faces I’d ever seen. The high cheekbones were startling and the mouth was a wide, sensual slash. Her face was pale with the imprint of tension and lack of sleep. Her eyes were dark, shadowed pools. She was wearing a white dress, street-length and cut very low in front. It was spattered all over with something dark and I thought I knew why the flies were gathering outside. She took a few steps towards us as we came into the garage and her movements were like something from an adolescent’s daydream. I could understand the depth of Penny’s hate and the quality of Madeline Tarelton’s feeling about Noni. She wasn’t a woman’s woman.
If she was a man’s woman she certainly wasn’t Saul James’. He sat on a chair a few feet away from Noni. He had on his usual beige outfit and his beige look. The girl washed him out completely; his eyes were fixed on her as she moved, but you had the feeling that he could disembowel himself there and then and she wouldn’t notice.
“Well, well, well. Little Penny the La Perouse picaninny.” Her voice was husky, edged with tiredness and maybe fear, maybe something else. “I always said you’d end up with a nice white man. Who’s your handsome friend?”
The remark seemed to be directed at Ricky as much as Penny and I didn’t like that one bit. She was pure trouble. Penny glared at her but didn’t speak. I broke the silence.
“Hello Noni. Hello James. Everything under control?”
James raised haunted eyes and looked at me.
“No, it’s not.” He pointed to the younger dark man. “He’s going to kill us.”
I studied Ricky in detail for the first time. He was several shades lighter than Perce, hardly darker than a Latin. His face wasn’t heavily influenced by Aboriginal ancestry either. It was craggy rather than Ikshy and his ears stuck out a bit. A few gloved fists had hit and moved it around but hadn’t diminished the intelligence and character in it. Not that it was a nice face. It was a dangerous face and it scared me more than a little. He wasn’t tall, I had that on him, but right then I’d have traded a few inches for my Smith amp; Wesson.
“I don’t think so.” I tried to make my voice sound calm and confident although my throat was dry and my tongue felt like a bit of old rope. “He only kills when he has to and there’s no point in killing any more people. Three’s enough. Where’s Bert?”
Noni let out a high laugh that cracked and ran down to a sob. “Ricky didn’t kill him – I did.” Her eyes flew off to the shadows near the front door, past the truck which stood near the middle of the floor, over the pit. Ricky didn’t say anything or move, he just kept that rifle steady. I went over and looked down at the shapeless heap on the floor. I twitched back the hessian covering. Bert’s heart wouldn’t trouble him any more. Nothing would. The side of his head was caved in; a dark, soggy-looking mass like molten chocolate covered it from above the ear to the collar of his shirt. It hadn’t been done with just one blow of the crank handle, or two.
Penny shot me a look that could have been triumph, then the impact of the whole thing reached her.
“Who did Ricky kill?” she said softly.
“The boy at Bare Island, to give him the cover for this big play.” I waved my hand to take in all of us, including Bert, and the truck. “Only it’s gone a bit sour, eh Ricky?” I turned to look at the older man.
“How about you Albie, who have you killed today?”
He put the shotgun down, leaning it on the running board of the truck which was an old Bedford, and began to roll a cigarette from makings he kept in a tin. He glanced across at Ricky.
“Might have to be you,” he growled.
Ricky looked puzzled, glanced at the man smoking and then stared at him as if trying to find answers to a hundred questions in his face. Noni was standing by the bench, only a few feet from me now, and running her hand over the smooth, artificial surface of the airline bag. The money bag.
“You’ll never spend it Noni,” I said quietly, “not now.”
“Shut up,” Ricky snapped. “Fuckin’ shut up. You can’t tell the bloody future. We’ll spend it, we’ll go…”
“You won’t go anywhere, even if you got this rig fixed up.” I pointed at the Bedford. “You’re blown. There’s half a dozen people in Sydney know about you now. How far do you think you’d get, you and her? You’d have to live in a cave, what good would money be then?”
Ricky was looking agitated. He shifted the weight of the rifle in his hands and looked speculatively at me. It was dodgy talking to him like that. If he felt too hopeless about his prospects he might feel like going out in a welter of blood. Why not? I wanted him desperate, off balance, but not crazy desperate. I had to offer him something.
“I suppose you might get away somehow. Up north you could get a boat perhaps. Risky as all hell…”
Ricky clutched at it. “We’ll make it. Shit, there’s boats leaving Australia all the time. We’ll make it.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” James wailed, “not a word. Noni, you can’t go off with this… killer. I love you, you’re mine.. .”
The words must have sounded ludicrous, even to him. Noni let out a hoot of derision. She spun around and advanced on James waggling a finger in his face.
“Poor Saulie,” she crooned, “poor baby Saul.”
It didn’t throw James, he must have been used to it.
“You’re sick Noni,” he said sharply. He’d said it before – maybe it had worked. Not this time. She broke into a crazy, jerky dance.
“Ricky, oh Ricky baby,” she sang, “we’ll go to Thailand, we’ve got enough money there for a thousand fixes, ten thousand fixes, big fixes, lovely fixes.”
James put out his hand as if to steady her, help her down from her perch, but she slapped at him, skittered away. She slammed into the side of the truck and crumpled, sliding down to the oily garage floor. James moved towards her but Ricky’s rifle came up sharply.
“Leave ‘er,” he rapped out.
James stopped and looked helplessly at me. I shook my head gently.
“She doesn’t understand,” I said. “She thinks she’s in it with him but she isn’t. He’s got no use for her.”
“I still don’t understand all this,” James said. He seemed less pathetic, sensing that his nursemaid role might have a little longer to play. That’d be enough for him. I looked across at Penny but it didn’t seem to make any difference to her. She was looking at Ricky in a way that chilled me. It evoked a memory and I placed it. She was looking at him the way she’d looked at the corpse at Bare Island. For her, he was dead already. That was a pity, but probably sound judgement. I just wanted to be sure that he didn’t take any of us with him on his second exit. James, frail reed that he was, looked like my only certain ally. Some knowledge might steady him. Besides, I had only one card to play and I had to prepare the game so that it would count decisively.
“Since we’re all here, more or less, and nobody’s going anywhere until night time, I might as well tell it the way I see it.” I raised my eyebrows at Ricky. “OK, Ricky, you’re the one with the gun and the money?”
“Watch him Rick, he’s a smartarse,” Perce said. “I’m going to finish off the wiring.” He started to get into the truck. The Bedford had been spray-painted grey and bars had been welded onto the front of it. A light metal frame had been welded up over the tray and I could see a couple of petrol drums on the tray just behind the cab. A tarpaulin that looked big enough to fit over the frame was lying on the floor beside the truck.
“I’ve got a couple of bottles in my car Albie,” I said. “Be a bit warm but…”
He got down and looked at Ricky. “Jeez, Rick, I could use a drink.”
“No,” said Ricky. “Why do you keep calling him Albie mister?”
“That’s his name, Albie Simmonds.”
“Percy White’s my name, smartarse.”
“You can call yourself Joh Bjelke-Petersen for all I care, but your name’s Albie Simmonds and you robbed a bank in 1966 with Joseph Berrigan.”
“I knew it,” Ricky said softly. “I knew you was him.”
“It’s bullshit,” Albie muttered. “I didn’t know Berrigan.”
“He ever let Berrigan get a look at him Ricky?” I asked.
“No, no he kept right out of the way.”
“Berrigan would have known him, even after all this time. There’s a woman in the hospital here that knows who he is.”
Albie’s sullen face showed some interest.
“You see ‘er? How is she?”
“I didn’t see her, the girl did.”
He turned towards Penny, the shotgun forgotten, the rifle forgotten, everything forgotten but the woman. I was seven feet from the shotgun. I’d have to step over Noni who was slumped down by the running board. I looked at Ricky. He was angry and puzzled but he wasn’t careless. I’d never make it.
“I saw her,” Penny said. “She isn’t well. She was badly hurt but she thinks there’s something else wrong with her. From the look of her she could be right. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and climbed into the truck.
“How long Perce?” Ricky asked.
“Coupla minutes.”
Not long, not long enough. Noni pulled herself up and limped over to the bench. A handbag was lying beside the airline bag and she reached into it and pulled out cigarettes. When she had one lit she struggled to regain the arrogance that was ninety-nine per cent of her style. It was a real struggle and she didn’t quite make it.
“What’s that about Ricky and me?” she said shakily. “What would you know about it? Who the fuck are you anyway?”
“He’s a private detective, Noni,” James put in.
“Don’t tell me you hired him, baby? Not to get little me back?” She tossed her head and puffed smoke. She was still trying.
“No, not me, your father.”
“Him. Fuck him.”
Oh Ted, how much sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is.
“He cares about you, Noni,” I said quickly. “With the trouble you’re in he’s your only hope. Ricky’ll drop you off at Oodnadatta crossing.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” she said wildly. “He wouldn’t.”
“He’s been planning to from the word go. Look, I’ll tell you how it is. Ricky was looking for his father. Some kids who get dumped are like that, can’t think of anything else.” Albie quietly got out of the truck and stood listening. Ricky made no move to interrupt me so I went on.
“He found out a bit, got a line on his father and Berrigan and the b ank job. Then he met you and found out that you were connected with that Macleay scene. I think he probably had the kidnap idea planned first but I can’t be sure. When Berrigan contacted you Ricky saw it as a chance for the bank money if it was still around. He killed the boy at Bare Island to give himself a cover. God knows where he found him, and he stuck close to you and Berrigan, up here and back. When there was nothing doing on the bank money he hit on the idea of Berrigan fronting for the kidnap. You put Berrigan up to it, Noni, at Ricky’s suggestion. It worked, more or less, and he killed Berrigan. I know I didn’t because I fired low – ballistics will prove that – but Ricky didn’t care. He reckoned he had enough red herrings dragging around to get clear.”
“What about his father, how does he come in?” Penny asked quietly.
“He’d kept out of Ricky’s way for years, then he heard that Ricky’d been killed. He checked at the morgue and knew it wasn’t him. My guess is that he came in on it just because he thought Ricky would make a balls-up of it – which he has.”
Penny started to cry quietly and Ricky looked at her amazed. For the first time the rifle wasn’t ready for instant use. I was encouraged. This seemed to be the right tack.
“You had it alright there mate,” I said, “but maybe it’s not your fault, maybe it’s inherited.”
He swung the rifle on me, but carelessly. I could see the black hole wavering and his eyes weren’t any steadier. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“Albie, Perce, whatever you want to call him, he denies he’s your father, right?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Let me finish. Did you know he was on with the Baker woman, the one Berrigan bashed?”
“No. So what?”
“After Berrigan went to jail for raping Noni, so it was thought, Albie here and Berrigan had a meeting and a bad falling-out.”
“So? Berrigan found out Perce was fucking his woman.”
“No, other way round.”
“I don’t get it.” The rifle was all over the place. Soon… soon.
“Albie isn’t your father. Berrigan told him who was.” Ricky shook his head. He took one hand off the rifle and brushed it over his face as if it was covered with cobwebs. “No. No…”
“Right. You killed your father in the park Ricky.” Now! I jumped him and nearly made it. I pushed at the rifle and swung my foot at his crotch but be was strong and young. He went back and fended me off with a sweeping lift of the rifle. It caught me in the mouth and I went down. Everybody had moved – Albie bent for the shotgun and his foot caught it and he fumbled, getting it near the trigger guard – he was bent over it and he took both barrels in the face. His face disappeared and blood erupted as the gun’s roar was still filling the garage.
Ricky took in the full horror of the man collapsing, faceless, and he made a leap for the cab of the truck. Noni screamed his name, snatched up the bag and clawed her way into the truck. Ricky had the thing started and revving and he drove it straight through the doors. The truck went thump thump as it passed over Bert and the doors splintered like matchwood. Then there was a big empty space where the truck had been and Penny was frozen like a statue. Blood had rained on her, drenched her.