Drive By

by Michael Duffy

  By then she was hiding in the big wardrobe that took up so much of her mother’s bedroom, thinking about what would happen next. The thing about men like this was, they always won. That was the reality that shaped the lives of women like her mother. In that moment, hiding in the fetid wardrobe, Bec felt oddly calm. She decided she would be a different type of person, and that to be such a person she had to take charge of her own life.

  When the man found her she was sullen but passive, allowed him to fondle her small breasts and put her on his knee in the lounge room. They got giggling and she encouraged him to open another bottle of vodka, drank some herself to urge him on, and before long the bottle was half empty. More than half. He’d been very drunk already and she knew from experience what effect more alcohol had on people in this condition. His hand had just reached beneath her pyjama bottoms when he hiccupped and slumped backwards, passing out. She slid off him, went into the bathroom and vomited. When she came back he was on the floor. Time passed, she could not recall how much, but she just crouched there, watching him. He began to gurgle and more vomit came out and filled his mouth, and she knew if she did nothing he would die. This was not a dream.

  Tiny came home with a friend before it grew light, and they moved the body. That was what had happened.

  Mate, that day Mr Wilson offered me the job in Melbourne, it just got more confusing. At lunchtime I rang Dani with the news and get her voicemail, which is confusion number one because it is her lunchtime. But then I think she has some emergency job on and is being paid double time to earn coin to buy me a present because our second anniversary is coming up, so I leave a message. She calls me back in half an hour and when I ask her what she’s been doing she says I been spying on her and we have an argument, then I tell her this exciting news. Dani is not excited, what she says is, How could you leave Sydney? With you Dani, I say. It is our chance to get away. Away from what? she says into the phone real loud like it is a shout. After all the things your family has done for you?

  I hold the phone away from my ear because with Dani one of the things is when she gets excited you let her talk once and then when she talks again it is more sensible. When there is a gap I see I have to get back to work and I tell her we will talk about it tonight but she will not hang up and goes on about the money Farid gave us for our holiday on the Gold Coast and all the ways he is always helping the family. I tell her, Dani, I have a good job and a promotion now and I is not needing this help, and she says, But you have taken the money and now you want to be a traitor just when they need you most? I say, Well, p’raps I would like to get away from all this drugs and courts and jails and stuff and just lead a normal life and have children and a house, and she screams at me some more. I tell her I have to hang up and I do, and this is a big action on my part because I only hung up on Dani once and she did not talk to me for like a week, but the way she is screaming into the phone now I am afraid she will burst a blood vessel or something. And, too, I need some peace to think about all the strange things she has been saying to me.

  Then confusion number two, when I finish that call there is a message on my phone telling me to come straight to Farid’s office and so I do, because there is still almost an hour left in my lunch break. I park outside and go up the stairs to the front room on floor three, where his secretary works, and two of his crew is on the couch, Talal and Mamdouh, and they see me and sneer like they do sometimes when Farid is not around. This is because of the line in the sand and me not doing any of the criminal activities, which makes them think I’m some goody goody or something and this makes them mouthy. But this is not worrying me because they is morons and could never tune a Lexus or even a Camry, not if they did a training course for fifty years.

  Talal stands up and says, I hope you wash your hands real good after work, got all the grease off your fingers. We got a lot of nice furniture up here, would not want to get it dirty. Mamdouh is smiling at this too—playing with his gun like a kid—so I go up to Talal and push my hand close to his face so he has to grab me or go backwards.

  He steps back and the back of his legs hit the sofa and he sits down quickly and I laugh to show we is a happy crew and no disrespect intended.

  The girl says I can go in and I go through the door to Farid’s big office with the flat next door where Farid sometimes stays when there is a tense situation going on with the Deebs p’raps or the jacks, and he is not wanting to go home and put his family at risk.

  Farid says hello and gets up and makes me a cup of coffee from this new machine he has where you put in real coffee grains and it shoots steam and everything. While he does this he has one of them conversations he likes where no one else does any talking, about how the government and all the rich bastards who live in the Eastern Suburbs is just as bad as any Lebanese boy, only difference is they make the laws that let them get away with it. Thing about property, he says, he being interested in property and things, is the way property developers, builders and stuff, give the government millions of dollars in these political donations. Government uses the money for advertising and shit to help them stay in power. Then they have this thing the First Home Owner scheme where the government gives you fourteen grand to buy your home and that basically goes into the pockets of the property developers. That’s billions of dollars a year and these are the people saying we’re criminals?

  Actually I know what he’s talking about because I read the paper every day after Bones has finished with it at work. I understand all this stuff but I say nothing because Farid is the big man now who wants to show off his knowledge even if most times he is wrong about this stuff.

  When we is settled with our coffees, he changes gear and goes, John John, you are really the sleeper of us brothers, aren’t you? I know Rafi got the marks, but really you have the brains. I have made an important decision. I think it is time you come and worked for the family. I am so surprised I almost fall off the chair I just sat down on. You are a smart man, he says, and you are brave and we need someone I can trust to help me run the business. We is making so much money now, more than twice what we were when Imad was here, that it is too much for one man. Imad agrees with me, I have talked to him and Salim. And Baiyeh, we all agree it will be best for the family.

  This is a bad surprise for me and I say to him, What about Rafi? I thought he was the one going to cross over the line in the sand. Farid picks up this commando dagger he has and sticks it in the top of his desk that cost ten thousand dollars. I know this because I once heard the mama telling our next-door neighbour about it and the rare wood and everything. Farid sticks the dagger in again and takes his hand off it and says, Everything has changed now John, you have to be seeing that. Rafiq is unable to control his emotion and even if he does not go to jail, there is no future for him with this family’s business. The emotion is bad for business but mainly it’s the lies, John. You cannot work with someone when you is never knowing if they is telling you the truth.

  But Rafiq is family, I say. Farid nods and says, But he is a member of the family that will destroy all the others. He will not be liking jail, I am very worried about that. I ask Farid what he means, because he is speaking softly now like he does when he is telling you more than the words is saying. Farid looks at me with eyes where you cannot see what is going on in them, and says, We is all hoping Rafi gets off and then we can send him on a long holiday to Beirut and to the cousins in America. But if he is found guilty John, we is needing to prepare ourselves. I say, But you can look after him in jail, and no one would be killing Imad’s brother in there. I is upset seeing the world is maybe not the way I thought it was five minutes ago. Farid says, There is only so much we can do, and them Deebs will be wanting to make a point and show their power. I have heard rumours about this already. There is ten boys inside that would be lining up to kill Rafiq for Sam Deeb. I say, No, and Farid is angry. He says, It is a war John and maybe you have been on the other side of the line too long and is forgetting that. But now you is going to ha
ve to start seeing things again.

  The papa—I say, and Farid says, The old man is agreeing with anything I want. All families need a strong man and if they are doing what he wants the family is like, like a car, John. Is you understanding that? So I am the engine here. Just come to work for the family and everyone will be happy.

  Then he hugs me and we is both crying again, and he gets me to swear not to be telling anybody on earth about this thing with Rafiq, how he is in danger inside the jail. Not the papa or anything. I am very upset but part of it is for a strange reason. I am thinking if Farid had done a better job of fighting Sam Deeb our little brother’s life would not be in danger like this because everyone would be having too much respect for us. I say nothing and Farid is looking at me, I see he thinks I am weak, I will be doing what he says. And I see I am not weak but maybe I have been spending too much time thinking.

  In the days after the conversation with Gary Murphy, Bec worked patiently at reconstructing herself. It was as though she’d been shattered and he’d offered her a way of rebuilding something. This required her to accept his view of things, and she was prepared to do that. She’d learned how the same set of facts could be assembled into different shapes; you chose the one that was sustainable.

  Three calls in an hour changed everything. The switch had an incoming from Perth. ‘Bec?’

  ‘Sharon. How are you?’

  ‘Fine. Not so good, actually. You?’

  ‘Oh—’

  ‘I was wondering if we could meet, you know. See each other again.’

  Her voice sounded strained and high, she must be on medication. Bec recalled her at the beach, the hot tears on both their faces. ‘I’d like that. Brian Harris, have you told them what happened?’

  A long silence. ‘Don’t ask me to do that, Bec. Please.’

  So she knew. She remembered. ‘I just want you to back me up here, Shaz. I need your help.’

  ‘Please, Bec. You have to understand . . .’

  Bec felt a stab of panic. ‘I do want to see you again.’

  Another voice came on the phone. ‘Who is this?’ Female, authoritative. The question was repeated.

  Bec hung up, felt a door close somewhere.

  The second call came almost immediately, before she could assimilate the first. It was Magda in Barcelona. She sounded happy. Deep breath, Bec told her about the murder in the house, Ian’s body on the kitchen floor. Offered to give her and Tim all her savings, the deposit she’d been putting together for a place of her own.

  ‘Oh Becster, how awful. Are you all right?’

  Magda was such a good person. If it wasn’t for the children, things could have been so different.

  ‘I’m—’

  ‘We sold the house, they made us an offer just after we left, Dad dealt with it.’

  Bec recalled the new townhouses next door. ‘The developers?’

  ‘Paid us a motza, cheque’s in the bank. What about you though, you okay?’

  They talked about her for a while, and when she hung up a part of her had been set free. Guilt had twisted and shackled her in ways she had not realised.

  Five minutes later, Knight. ‘Marsden was in Sydney Sunday morning. The shooting remains unsolved.’

  She hated him. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because you asked, and it’s true.’

  ‘Who knows what’s true?’

  ‘We all know a bit of it. We have to remain faithful to that. Even if we can’t know everything.’

  If Bec was a load-bearing column, a few tonnes had just been placed on her head. She said, ‘I hear they think it was the Lebs.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  She couldn’t say, had given some sort of promise to Murphy. In return for peace.

  When she hung up, she broke down and cried for a long time, the sobs echoing around the empty apartment, the unoccupied rooms of her heart. After it was over she knew the peace he’d offered was illusory, and she had made a promise she might not be able to keep.

  Mate, when I hear that stuff from Farid about Rafiq I go out to see him in the jail the next day, just wanting to look at my little brother while thinking about all the things Farid has told me. And so concerned now for his safety too. Rafi is there at Silverwater, wearing all those green clothes they give them and the Dunlop Volley shoes that take all the dignity from a man. Even a prisoner ought to have the right to a good pair of shoes.

  Visiting at jail is one of the worse things you can be doing, because there is no respect there no matter who you are even a member of the Habib family is not treated any better than everyone else all the skip crims and the biggest pack of loser women you have ever seen with all their brats. They make you wait in the queue for ages and I am so bored Dani is not with me. Don’t even ask me lover she is saying when I asked her to come. Jail is not a good place for little me, you would not like to have to deal with my emotions when you is there to see your brother believe me you is better off going on your lonesome self. I do not mind. We is making up after our argument the other day, although Dani has still not agreed to come to Melbourne. I want her in a good mood so we can talk about it again.

  At last I am getting in to see Rafi and we is talking a lot, just like brothers, and I am thinking maybe it is good Dani is not here, remembering the days when we was kids and going to Bankstown High and everything. After a while though Rafiq is getting sad and telling me how much he is hating the jail. I is listening to him about all that and giving him some advice about how to stand in the showers and telling him the name of one of our old friends who should be in the jail with him. Rafiq tells me this guy is there it is true but he has been avoiding Rafi all the time. I is having a word to his brother as soon as I get out of here, I say, and I have seen the guy’s family outside before and is getting angry at what Rafi is telling me. There is other people in here bigger than us, Rafiq is saying, that is one of the things you is learning in here. To be outside the family is a terrible thing, John.

  I explain to him I know stuff about this guy’s family and as soon as I have a word, everything with him will be all right. If Rafiq gives me a list of the other boys in here I will sort them out too. He smiles and says, Don’t forget the line in the sand, John, and I tell him his safety is the most important thing to me and he can trust me. I is seeing he is needing this if he is to survive in this place.

  He is crying a little bit now, trying to keep the tears back because we is in this big room with lots of other crims and visitors and I is seeing tears must be like blood in the water to sharks, and I is wondering about if I should leave, to save Rafiq from having this emotion. I say, You is needing to tell us the truth about what happened at Gallipoli Park and why you was there and stuff, that is the only way Farid will stop having this anger towards you.

  There is more tears now and Rafiq shakes his head and says, I cannot tell you why I went there John, I am so sorry to you and all the family. This jack Harris. Then he stops speaking and I say, What, what about this jack what is you going to tell me? I remember this Harris guy, he was the one who investigated Rafiq after that pizza shop fire although I is never meeting him but I is seeing him in court during the murder trial now and he is a mean-looking cunt, I am telling you. Are you saying he is the one who tried to frame you for this shooting business? Rafi is shaking his head and not saying anything. I is arguing with him, telling him the time for lies is over and he must be telling me the truth. Oh John, he says. You is living such a simple life isn’t you? Sometimes John the truth is much worse than lies. When you is learning that, John, your life will never be the same again.

  Well I is not having any idea what he is meaning. Is it Harris who planted the gun on you? I say and Rafid says, Of course, but he is saying it like it is not important, so I am wondering what could be more important than this. Then Rafiq is telling me this truth that is worse than a lie.

  There was a handover meeting, Karen, the new Crown, a younger man named McGovern, Thomson, Knight and Rals
ton, who had been taken off the trial and given a month’s leave. Ian’s funeral was to be held on Friday. Karen summarised the situation, as succinctly as she could. The judge had decided to continue the trial with the same jury on Monday. McGowan would be presenting her summing-up, which she had already prepared.

  He seemed nervous of Andrew Ferguson and she told him not to worry, Andrew was a fake. Then, her mind drifting a little, ‘He always goes on about what a great rider he is, he has a property near Bathurst.’

  Knight nodded. ‘He always wears cowboy boots.’

  ‘Except, real riding boots don’t have those pointed toes. I’ve always wanted to say that to him: “Don’t you find your toes get caught in the stirrup when you come off?”’

  McGowan looked dubious. ‘Maybe he doesn’t come off.’

  ‘We all come off some time.’

  They were staring at her and she peered at her notes, wanting to conclude the meeting as soon as possible.

  Nothing had been found with which to challenge Habib’s alibi, beyond its inherent implausibility. His Aunt Dalia had not been located, although the medical certificate had been provided by the defence. The specialist in Beirut who’d signed it had been interviewed by the Lebanese police, an Australian Federal Police officer in attendance, and confirmed she was terminally ill. The police believed he was lying, but there was no way of proving it.

  Karen stood up to dismiss them, and Ralston waited back, said how sorry she was about what had happened to Ian. It was the first time they’d been together since his death.

  ‘Yes. Thank you and for all you did for him.’

  Ralston said, ‘Do you know how he died?’

  ‘Some Lebanese gangster, it was why they considered it inappropriate I conclude the trial.’

  ‘Brian Harris shot him. Then he tried to shoot me. Three times. Brian Harris is a grievous human being.’

  Karen was shocked by how far gone Ralston was. They’d told her she was bad, but this was crazy. Firmly she said, ‘Ian was shot with a Glock stolen from a security guard at Mount Druitt last year. Brian Harris’s gun was found in his car, it hadn’t been used. Oh Bec.’ She shook her head, pushing away her deep resentment of fate, how Knight had had to go to Adelaide, Ralston’s inexperience. Her own role in involving her in Ian’s life. ‘Have they offered you help? You’re not well.’