The Reward

by Peter Corris

  ‘Who paid Johnno and Sligo and Andrea to suppress the kidnapping note after Ramona Beckett went missing?’

  17

  Peg Hawkins bit her lip and got lipstick on her beautifully capped teeth. Her fingernails were long and painted a muted shade of red. She tapped them against the glass, then picked at them and some flakes of paint fell off. Any minute now she’d put her hand up to her hair and disturb the carefully sprayed arrangement. I didn’t want to see it. She was a handsome, well-presented women, and I didn’t get any pleasure from seeing her come apart.

  ‘Come on, Peg,’ I said. ‘A name and a few details and it’ll be done.’

  ‘It’s not that easy.’

  ‘Maybe not, but you haven’t got much option. Fact is, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. This looks like a nice establishment. You’re doing well, providing an essential service. All fine by me and my colleague. Why put it at risk?’

  She chewed at her lip and the colour spread on her teeth, threatening to make her look clownish. I got out a tissue and handed it to her. ‘You’re messing yourself up.’

  She stood and looked at herself in the mirror above the TV set. ‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘You’re turning me into a hag.’ She made repairs and straightened herself up. She threw out her chest and this time she was working at it. ‘Look, whatever your name is, as you say, this is a classy place. I’ve got some very talented women here. Is there some other way we can work it out?’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t quite see what your problem is, Peg. But, no. No chance of anything like that.’

  ‘Didn’t think so. A tough bastard, like Johnno. What’s your name again?’

  ‘Cliff Hardy.’

  She sighed and held out her glass to me. She was still working. The long, slender, tanned arm came out like an invitation. ‘Normally, I don’t drink till six, Cliff.’

  ‘Me too. Normally.’ I made her another drink and topped up mine.

  ‘The problem is Colin,’ she said.

  It felt like the right moment. I got the mobile from my jacket pocket and punched in the numbers. I switched it to Broadcast so Peg could hear the exchange.

  ‘This is Bob.’

  ‘Cliff, Bob. Has Max talked to Sligo?’

  ‘Happening now. He had a good first nine but I don’t think he’s going to putt so well on the back nine. See, I’m picking up the language.’

  ‘Have we got the name?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Bob said. ‘It’s who you thought. Colin says Johnno got all the cream. He says Peg’s a great root but not very bright. He’s still talking.’

  ‘That fucking bastard!’ Peg threw her glass at the TV set. It bounced off and broke. ‘He got just as much from Beckett as Johnno, maybe more.’

  ‘Thanks, Bob.’ I cut the connection. ‘That’d be Sean Beckett?’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’

  ‘How would Sligo get more out of him?’

  ‘He claimed to know who the kidnappers were, even though he didn’t have a fucking clue.’

  The door opened and Amanda, looking agitated, took a tentative step into the room.

  ‘It’s all right, Mandy,’ Peg said. ‘I just lost my block for a minute. Nothing to worry about.’

  Amanda barely looked at the broken glass on the floor. ‘It’s not that, Peggy. There’s a woman here insisting on seeing you. I really don’t know how to cope with this sort of . . .’

  The door swung wide and another woman came into the room. Unlike the other two, there was nothing sexually alluring about her. She wore jeans, boots and a sweater. No make-up. Her hair was short and straight, her eyes were big and her mouth was small.

  ‘Hullo, Andrea,’ I said. I ushered Amanda out quickly and shut the door.

  ‘Who the fuck’s this?’ Andrea Craig said.

  I held up the mobile phone. ‘You left a very unhappy woman behind you. Want me to give Eve a ring and tell her you’re okay?’

  Andrea looked at Peg as if she wanted to do her serious harm. ‘What have you been doing, you dumb bitch? What’s going wrong?’

  Peg shrugged, went to the bar and made herself another drink. ‘Colin’s spilled the beans.’

  ‘Colin? I don’t believe it.’

  Peg had a drink, then poured in more vodka. ‘Ask him. He seems to know everything about everybody.’

  ‘That’s right, you slut. Get pissed and slide out of it. I suppose you’re fucking this hard case?’

  ‘I bet he’d rather fuck me than you. You look like shit. At least when you were rooting Johnno you looked like a woman.’

  ‘All you know about being a woman is how to open your legs.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ I said. ‘I know you got a phone call and came running to see Peg. I want to know why and who tipped you off.’

  Andrea pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her jeans pocket. ‘Get fucked!’

  Peg took two steps towards her and knocked the cigarettes and lighter to the floor. The packet fell open and the cigarettes spilled out onto the wet carpet. Andrea yelped.

  ‘Nobody smokes in here,’ Peg said. ‘Not you, not Colin, not the fucking Bishop of Brisbane. You’d better talk to this bloke. He’s got Colin by the balls somehow and the whole thing’s turning to shit. I’ll tell you this, Hardy. This bitch put the screws on Johnno. She claimed to have something that proved he’d done some big favour for Sean Beckett.’

  ‘You bet I have,’ Andrea said.

  I said, ‘What?’

  Andrea looked weary. The adrenalin that had carried her from Sydney to the Gold Coast was fading and she looked ready to drop her bundle. ‘Why should I tell you?’ she muttered. ‘You wouldn’t know shit about it.’

  ‘I know there was a ransom note that got suppressed.’

  She stared at me, fumbled for her cigarettes, remembered and twitched visibly. ‘Yeah, well I’ve got that fucking note. I need a smoke.’

  ‘You can smoke all you like in a couple of minutes. Two more questions. Why did you call Peggy and visit here so much? It’s clear you can’t stand each other.’

  ‘I’ll answer that,’ Peg said. ‘It was Johnno’s doing. He stashed away a hell of a lot of money in an account up here. A lawyer makes periodical withdrawals and deposits it in another account. We can only draw on it jointly with both signatures.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ I said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he was a sadistic bastard. This was his way of punishing both of us. Her for blackmailing him, me because I wouldn’t give him the show he wanted.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Andrea spat.

  ‘Fuck you! He might as well know it all. When he ran out of poke on account of booze and diabetes, Johnno liked to watch two women perform. It would’ve given him the thrill of a lifetime to see his wife and his mistress sucking each other. This dyke slut was more than willing but I wasn’t.’

  ‘It’d be a dry twat now,’ Andrea said. ‘Probably got a few stitches in it to draw it closed.’

  ‘This is unedifying,’ I said. ‘What’s the lawyer’s name?’

  ‘I thought you knew everything,’ Peg said. ‘Looks like you don’t.’

  ‘Cavendish,’ I said. ‘Wallace Cavendish.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Andrea said. ‘How the fuck did all this get out in the open? I thought it was sealed up tight. Johnno couldn’t have been as fucking smart as he thought he was.’

  I had a sense that the women, despite their loathing for each other, might suddenly team up and put me out of the game. I was trying to think fast enough to ask the right questions while I still had them, but there were a lot of pieces to put together. Andrea moved to the bar, pulled out an ice-cube tray, twisted it and let three cubes drop in a glass. The rest fell on the floor. She poured a couple of fingers of Teachers into the glass and took a drink. She bent down and picked up a couple of cigarettes and examined them for useability.

  Just then the mobile rang. I answered and forgot that I still had it on Broadcast.

  ‘Cliff,’ Bob announced for all to hear. ‘I
hope it worked because we can’t hang around here much longer. Sligo never showed up. He called in sick. What . . .’

  Peg Hawkins swore and came at me with her fingernails hooked like talons. But she’d taken in too much vodka, too early in the day, too quickly. She slashed but missed, lost balance and fell heavily. Andrea laughed and kicked her in the ribs with a heavy boot.

  ‘Who’s dumb now, bitch?’ she said. ‘He fucking fooled you, didn’t he? I knew Colin’d never spill his guts.’ She landed another kick. Peg rolled away, right into the broken glass. A long shard bit into her upper arm and the blood ran, staining the white dress. Andrea laughed again and headed for the door.

  I missed a beat, still holding the squawking mobile, looking at the hard-shelled, elegant woman reduced to a weeping wreck on the soggy carpet. I cut the connection and moved out into the passage. Amanda tried to block Andrea’s way but the ex-policewoman had too many moves for her and Amanda ended up on the floor. But Andrea had to press a bell to open the door and that gave me time to catch her. I went through the door with a strong grip on her arm as a counter to her attempt to twist me sideways and get a well applied boot to my shins.

  We were locked together, sweating and panting in the perfumed garden. I pressed her up against the trellis with a forearm under her chin and a knee in her groin. My bruised ribs were shrieking and I knew I couldn’t hold her there for long.

  Our faces were close together and the sour, tobacco odour of her breath was strong in my nostrils.

  ‘One answer to one question, Andrea, and you can walk away from all this.’

  ‘What’s that, arsehole?’

  ‘Who tipped you off in Sydney? Who sent you running up here to Peg and the money?’

  ‘That’s two fucking questions and I don’t know the fucking answers.’

  ‘You got a phone call. Eve told us.’

  I felt the strength go out of her but I held on tight in case she was faking. ‘Eve,’ she said. ‘Poor old Eve.’

  ‘Who?’

  I don’t know. Some woman.’

  ‘A woman?’

  ‘That’s right. Another surprise for you is it, arsehole? You think only men can fuck people around?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think that.’

  ‘Bet your arse. This woman said the Ramona Beckett thing was being investigated and that my name had come up. She said these hard types . . . ease up, you’re fucking choking me.’

  I relaxed the pressure, a little.

  ‘. . . were coming to see me and I’d better get out of it and grab everything I could lay my hands on before it all turned to shit. Let go!’

  I released her, she spat in my face and ran away. I leaned back against the trellis, wiped my face with the back of my hand and closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them Peg Hawkins was standing by the open grille. She had a white handtowel pressed against her cut arm and the blood was just beginning to seep through it. Her dress was stained and spotted. She was pale but she was fighting for control.

  ‘What now?’ she said.

  I shook my head and stood straight, looking back at her. ‘Do you know who killed Ramona Beckett?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’

  ‘Why did Beckett go on paying after Johnno died? Why wasn’t he off the hook then?’

  ‘Johnno was a sadistic, twisted creep, but he was smart. He had Beckett on tape.’

  ‘Where’s the tape now?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’

  ‘Yeah, I would, but I do know something. Peg. I reckon that money’s going to stop coming.’

  ‘Why?’

  I reached into my jacket pocket and took out the miniature tape recorder I’d activated just before I’d pressed the Satisfaction buzzer. The red light was showing and the tape was still running.

  ‘I’ve got a tape of my own,’ I said. ‘Does that make me smart, too?’

  ‘What’re you going to do with it?’

  ‘Play it to Colin Sligo for one thing.’

  She sagged against the grille. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ she said. ‘Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. I can get along without the money from Sydney, but Colin can put me out of business here.’

  ‘You’d better get that arm looked at. I’ll do a deal with you, Peg. I won’t play the tape to Sligo—or only an edited version. I’ll do everything I can to keep you out of it.’

  ‘What do I have to do in return?’

  ‘One, don’t contact Sligo today. Two, tell me where Andrea Craig’s likely to have gone.’

  Peggy Hawkins was a woman of spirit. Despite her distress and her wound she managed a harsh, genuine laugh. ‘Fuck me,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to trust you.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Sure I can’t interest you in Amanda or Chantelle? I can scrub up pretty well myself too.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it, but no.’

  ‘Not queer, are you, Cliff?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  She sighed. The breasts heaved. She was almost back in business. ‘No, I understand men better than anything else. I’ve watched you. You’re a hair, eyes, mouth, tit and leg man. Johnno was much the same before he got old and fat. Don’t get old and fat, Cliff.’

  ‘I’ll be careful about fat.’

  ‘You’ve got a deal. In fact I think I’ll take myself off somewhere for a while.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Andrea’s got a girlfriend in Byron Bay. Name of Jackie. She’s a hooker who works out of a duplex opposite the main beach. I think her name might be Jackson, I’m not sure. Anyway, that’s the name she uses. Things should be quiet there about now. I don’t know the address, but Andrea doesn’t know that I know.’

  ‘Thanks, Peg.’

  She pressed the buzzer and the message began: ‘This is Satisfaction, an escort service and . . .’

  18

  I used the mobile to call Bob and Max who were heading back towards Broadbeach.

  ‘How’d it go?’ Bob said. ‘Hope I didn’t call back too soon.’

  ‘No, the timing was about right. It worked pretty well. I think we’ve got what we need. A couple of loose ends. I need a drink, mate. I can see something called the Honolulu Bar dead ahead. That’s where I’ll be.’

  ‘You all right?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. It’s lucky I like beating up women.’

  I was on my second vodka and tonic (the first was a silent toast to Peggy Hawkins and after that I couldn’t see any reason to change drinks), when Max and Bob came into the bar. It wasn’t quite as bad as it sounded—there was less bamboo than you’d expect, fewer fake leis, and only one poster of Elvis as he appeared in Blue Hawaii.

  They took stools on either side of me. Bob ordered a beer and Max a mineral water with lemon. I downed my drink and ordered another.

  ‘This is no good,’ I said. ‘I’ll have to swivel my head so Max can see what I’m saying.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Bob said. ‘You’re on the way to getting pissed. I thought you said everything went well?’

  We moved to a table overlooking the street and not far from Satisfaction. I was beginning to tell them what had happened when Peggy Hawkins came from behind the trellis and got into a taxi. She was wearing a tight blue dress and a black jacket and I saw the driver miss his grip on the door after she slid inside.

  I lifted my glass. ‘Cheers, Peg.’

  ‘He’s flipped,’ Bob said. ‘Must be the climate.’

  I played the tape for them, stopping and starting, repeating certain sections until they had the whole picture. They said nothing until Max drained his second mineral water. ‘I think I’ll have a beer. What about you?’

  Bob and I ordered and when Max came back with the drinks he said, ‘I feel like Bogart in Casablanca. Play it again, Cliff.’

  I knew what he meant. I’d made a mental note of the counter on the tape at the spot. I ran through to it and hit the button. First my voice, ‘Who?’ Then Andrea: ‘I don’t know
. Some woman.’ Me again: ‘A woman?’

  ‘The only woman in Sydney who knows anything about this is Penny Draper,’ Max said. ‘And I’m absolutely positive she’s straight.’

  ‘She’s not the only woman.’ I told them about Claudia Vardon, how she’d turned up and that she lived in the Connaught.

  ‘You say you didn’t mention names, but,’ Bob said.

  ‘Yeah, but that time I was in her place, after we’d fucked, I went to sleep for a while. I had my notebook on me and I had Andrea Neville’s name in it.’

  ‘Shit,’ Max said. ‘That looks like it, but what’s her angle?’

  I was feeling too miserable and confused to think about it. Like anyone else, I’d been aroused and tempted by what was on display at Satisfaction, but at the back of my mind was the thought and prospect of Claudia. Now all that looked like turning into something very ugly. I forced myself to consider the ins and outs of it. If Claudia was Barry White’s backer, was she also his killer? And had she made the attempt on Leo Grogan? All very unpleasant to contemplate but, as I faced it, the old curiosity began to take hold. And something more.

  ‘I don’t know what her angle could be,’ I said quietly. ‘But I’m going to find out.’

  Bob saw my expression and tried for the light note. ‘It’s lucky you like beating up women,’ he said.

  ‘This one used me and made a fool of me. I don’t like that one bit.’

  Max coughed. ‘When you’re through being tough, we’ve got a couple of things to settle up here. We should see Sligo and we should try to get that note.’

  My thoughts had gone straight back to Sydney, but I knew he was right. ‘I wonder if he really is sick, or if he’s got wind of things?’

  ‘I called his office,’ Bob said. ‘They say he’s got the flu. Had it a fair while. That tee time’s a regular booking but apparently he hasn’t played for weeks. Answering machine at his home number. The voice sounds a bit fluey you could say.’