‘I’ll give you this now,’ I handed him the money, ‘and the rest when I see the documents. Oh and bring your own passport. I’d like to compare them.’ I had no idea what an Australian passport looked like.
He stuffed the cash into the top drawer of his tattooing cart and said, ‘You going to leave your hair that colour?’
I touched my bob. I loved my red hair. ‘Why?’
‘You’re kind of memorable. I get the feeling you’d prefer not to be.’
He had a point. ‘I could go brown.’
‘Do it, then get your passport photos taken. The twenty-four hour chemist down the road can take them.’
There was a hairdresser two shops down from the tattoo parlour that was still open. It only took an hour for the apprentice to turn my glistening red hair to a boring brown. She pretended not to notice the tears on my cheek as she blow dried my hair. I was thankful for that.
From there I went to the chemist, had the passport photos taken, and then took them straight back to Adam.
‘It’ll take a week,’ he said when I handed him the photos.
‘I’ll quadruple it if you can do it in two days.’
‘Lady even if you gave me ten times as much, I couldn’t have them in two days. Best I can do is four.’
‘I’ll be back in four days.’
Out of energy, I dragged myself back to the hostel. I went to bed, wrapping my arms around myself to try and hold in the pain.
A knock on my door woke me the next morning.
Harry.
I leapt from the bed and threw open the door, prepared to leap into his arms. It wasn’t Harry.
A tall, dark-haired man in a blue uniform stood on the other side of the door. ‘Tess Milano?’ He glanced down and I blushed. There was no way I would have opened the door in my lace nightie if I had known it wasn’t Harry.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘Constable Trent Bailey of the New South Wales Police Force.’
I was suddenly very glad I had hidden those envelopes under the mattress.
‘Constable,’ I said. ‘I had the television on pretty loud last night. Was there a noise complaint?’
He laughed. ‘In King’s Cross? The only noise complaints we get called to are those that involve gun shots and screaming. And then not even all of those.’
My face felt weird and I realised I was smiling. It was the first time that had happened since I’d arrived in Sydney.
‘Well then,’ I said, ‘why are you here?’
‘Gotta ask you some questions. Want to do it here or down at the police station?’
‘I have a choice?’ I was doing a pretty good job of appearing to remain calm, but in reality my mind was flitting around my skull like a frightened rabbit. What was this about?
‘You’re not under arrest,’ he said. ‘Just following up on an anonymous phone call.’ He pulled a face. ‘Probably shouldn’t have told you that part.’
Now it was my turn to laugh. ‘Tell you what. How about you let me get changed,’ I gestured at my nightie, ‘and I’ll shout you breakfast.’
‘That would be a nice change. Normally I just get shouted at,’ he said.
I smiled and shut the door, swinging around to look at my room from how he would have seen it. There was nothing there that would have aroused his suspicions about anything. I pulled on a loose dress, slipped on my sandals and dragged a brush through my hair.
He was still waiting on the other side of the door when I re-appeared.
‘Where’s good?’ I asked.
‘’Smoky Bacon’ does a pretty mean fry up,’ he said, leading me down the stairs.
‘Sounds good.’
‘How did you find me?’ I asked as we walked up the street.
‘Customs form.’ He stopped and pushed open the door of a small, homely café with American-style diner booths. I felt right at home.
We both ordered bacon and eggs, and coffee, waiting till the waitress had disappeared before beginning our conversation.
‘Anonymous phone call?’ I prompted.
‘I knew you’d latch onto the one bit of information I shouldn’t have given you.’ He twirled the salt shaker between his fingers.
My smile came more easily. ‘You can always count on a woman to do that.’
‘I wish I had known that before I met my ex-girlfriend.’
‘Ex?’
‘I suggested she get a job in the Force as a lie detector.’
‘How did that go down?
‘That’s why she’s my ex.’
I moved back to let the waitress deposit our coffee in front of us. Trent ripped the top off a couple of packets of sugar and dumped them in his coffee. He was all long, lean muscle, and even though he seemed relaxed as he stirred his coffee I was betting he went from zero to a hundred in under six seconds.
‘So tell me about Leo the Brain.’ The bastard waited until I had a mouthful of coffee before he said it.
My eyes must have been bulging with my effort not to snort it all over him. They’d found the body? When I had finally swallowed, I wiped my nose on a serviette and said, ‘It’s Lou. Lou the Brain. And what do you want to know?’
‘So you’re not going to deny knowing him?’
‘He was my mother’s boyfriend.’
‘Your step-father?’
‘Call him that again and I will be shouting at you.’ I arched an eyebrow at him and took another sip of my coffee. How much did he know?
‘So I’m guessing you weren’t that fond of him.’
‘I’m pretty sure he beat my mother to death, so no, I’m not that fond of him.’ I saw straight through his attempt to trick me into using past tense on Lou.
‘So you won’t be sad to hear that he’s dead?’
I paused for what I thought would be the appropriate amount of time to digest that information. ‘He’s dead?’
‘The Las Vegas police got a tip off but they haven’t recovered a body.’ So somebody had told them Lou was dead and had pointed them in my direction. There were only two people who knew he was dead and where I was, and I was pretty sure Liss hadn’t set this up.
He sat back in his seat and stared at me, his intelligence suddenly dominating his face.
What a bitch. I couldn’t believe Hillary had done this. So it wasn’t enough that she had stolen my husband, now she wanted to see me behind bars for something she had done.
Okay, so I knew she hadn’t really killed Lou, but she didn’t.
‘Killed your mother?’
‘Lou came around to my house the day Mom was killed. He was drunk and he attacked me. I managed to fight him off.’ I noticed Trent’s eyebrows ride up his face as I said that. ‘Later that night my sister,’ I bit into that word, ‘found our mother dead. Her head had been crushed. We haven’t seen Lou since.’
‘He was prone to violent attacks?’
‘There was a reason I left home when I was sixteen.’
The waitress approached the table with two plates piled high with bacon and eggs. Trent attacked his, chewing noisily as he devoured his breakfast.
The appearance of the food had been timely. It gave me time to get the rest of my ducks in a row.
Trent swallowed the last mouthful noisily and said, ‘So what are you doing here?’
‘Having breakfast with you.’
‘Not here, here. But here.’ He tapped the table with the end of his knife.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the goofiness of it. ‘You mean Sydney?’
‘Yes, Sydney.’
‘My father-in-law gave my husband and me plane tickets for a wedding present. Harry’s father had a stroke, but I wanted to get away from Las Vegas.’ I pulled a face and real tears trembled on the ends of my lashes. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about Mom. Anyway Harry is meeting me here once we know his Dad is stable.’
‘Huh.’ Trent plucked a toothpick from a little container and sat back. He twirled it between his thumb and first finger while staring into space a
bove my head.
I ate my breakfast while he twirled. ‘So what did the anonymous caller say?’ I asked when I had finished.
His eyes snapped back to mine. ‘That you killed Lou.’
‘I wish I could,’ I said. ‘I would feel no guilt about putting a bullet through his head. The man is an asshole.’ I was very careful with my choice of words.
‘People always say that.’
‘That they want to kill Lou?’ I pushed my hair back behind my ears. ‘You’re probably right. I know of at least a dozen that would like a shot at it.’
‘No.’ His smile was really cute. ‘That they wouldn’t feel guilty. They always do. It’s human nature to feel bad about taking another life.’
Huh. What was wrong with me? ‘Have you ever taken a life?’
He shook his head. ‘Not yet. But I’m sure when I do I’ll feel guilty.’ He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and I put up my hand.
‘I said my shout and I meant it.’
‘Thanks. Next time I’ll shout.’
‘There’s going to be a next time?’
‘Probable. The Las Vegas police are looking into things at their end.’ He stood up, making me feel diminutive in my seat. ‘Don’t go anywhere Tess Milano,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we’ll be talking again.’
‘Oh I won’t,’ I said.
I was telling the truth to a certain extent. Tess Milano wouldn’t be going anywhere, but Lorraine Smith would.
***
Now that the police had an eye on me, the pressure to get out of Sydney had increased exponentially. I went to visit Adam again that evening.
‘I said four days,’ he said when I walked in the door.
I pulled a face. ‘I know. No harm in asking though, hey?’
‘What sort of trouble are you in?’
‘The better question would be what sort of trouble aren’t I in?’
He laughed and sat on the edge of one of the tattooing beds. ‘A life half lived and all that.’
I didn’t bother telling him that right now a life half lived was sounding mighty fine.
‘Can’t help you unfortunately. Anything else you need while you’re waiting.’
‘A financial advisor.’ I turned back towards the entry door.
‘That I can help you with.’
‘Really?’ I didn’t like to judge or anything, but he didn’t look like the type that had ever taken any sort of advice, let alone financial.
He pulled a bundle of cards out of the top drawer of his tattooing cart and leafed through them. ‘Here.’ He held a tattered one out to me. ‘Uncle Ron will look after you.’
The look I gave him must have been sceptical.
‘How do you think I afforded this place?’ He held his arms out.
‘This is your business?’
‘This is my building.’
‘Oh.’ I had to stop pre-judging people.
‘He’ll take a higher commission if the money is hot, but I’m thinking he’s the man you need.’
Hot money? He was definitely the man I needed.
I was waiting outside Uncle Ron’s office at nine o’clock the next morning, when a short man in a shabby brown coat put his briefcase on the ground to unlock the door.
‘Adam sent me,’ I said.
He looked me up and down and then said, ‘Well if Adam sent you, you must need my help.’
I followed him into the little office and perched on the edge of a cracked vinyl chair. It was the only chair in the room apart from the high-backed, black one sitting on the far side of his desk.
‘What can I do you for?’
‘I have some money I need investing.’ I gave him my best don’t-ask-questions-where-the-money-came-from look. He didn’t, so I guessed I pulled it off.
‘Exactly how much are we talking about?’
‘One million.’
‘American or Australian?’
‘American.’
He nodded and pulled his calculator towards him, tapping the keys rapidly.
‘I need to buy a car,’ I said, ‘and a house.’
‘Is it hot?’ He didn’t even stop his tapping. Adam was right, this was the man I needed.
‘Kind of.’
‘We’ll get you a bomb once your papers arrive.’ He looked up at me. ‘Adam is getting you those?’
I nodded. A bomb? What was he talking about?
‘A flash car will just draw attention. I know a man who will get us what you need.’ He continued his tapping. ‘We’ll buy you the house once you’re settled and the investment has returned enough that we aren’t touching the capital. You going to the country?’
‘I was thinking it might be best.’
He nodded again. ‘Houses are cheap. Won’t take us long to get you one. Six months, maybe a year. Now as for the rest. We’ll invest some of it in blue chip shares and the rest in an aggressive portfolio. That way you’ll get some capital growth as well as the dividends. I’ll take ten percent on entry.’ He stopped his tapping and stared at me as if daring me to protest at his high commission.
Truth be told, my head was spinning with how fast he was organising me. Ten percent? One hundred thousand dollars? I thought about how hard it would be for me to change the money and bank it and buy a house. The chances were high the police would be on to me as soon as I started trying. Ten percent was a bargain.
‘Deal.’ I held my hand out to shake his.
‘When do you want to start?’
I reached into my bag and pulled out five of the manila envelopes. ‘Here’s the first half. I’ll be back with the rest shortly.’
Uncle Ron had the paperwork ready for me by the time I got back. He also had a map. ‘You want to look at these sorts of areas.’ He pointed to some towns north west of Sydney, towards the border. ‘They’re suspicious of strangers, but they’re small. You stay low and keep quiet and work on that accent of yours. Pretty soon they’ll forget you weren’t born there.’
I leant over the map, looking where he was pointing. One town jumped out at me. Hickory. ‘There.’ I tapped my finger on it. ‘I’ll be there.’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘As soon as you get there you get a post office box and let me know what it is. Have a look around at houses and let me know when you find one you like. I’ve got a real estate licence. I’ll sort it all out for you.’
I wanted to jump over the table and kiss his ruddy cheeks. After everything I had gone through over the last few months it was nice to find someone who could help me out of the pickle I found myself in.
I walked back to the hostel feeling better than I had in days.
***
‘Looks good.’ I handed Adam’s passport back to him and put Lorraine Smith’s in my bag. It sat next to Lorraine’s new driver’s licence. Well, technically my licence. I was having trouble assimilating myself with my new identity.
‘Uncle Ron said to go see him as soon as you had these. He’s found you a car.’
I had been rearing to get out of Sydney ever since Constable Bailey had come to see me, but now that it was happening I found myself strangely sad to leave.
I had felt at home in King’s Cross. Had listened to the singers in the bar and watched the drag queens perform. True to my word to Liss, I hadn’t sung a single note myself, but I could see myself living here. Could see Harry and me living here.
But Harry wasn’t coming. He was firmly entrenched in his new job as Mob boss. He was also firmly entrenched in Hillary. It was time to leave Tess Milano behind. It was time to become Lorraine Smith.
I gave Adam the rest of his money and went back to the hostel only long enough to get my bag and pay my bill. Then I dragged my bag down to Uncle Ron’s office.
‘It don’t look like much,’ he pointed at a dinged-up blue car parked across from his office, ‘but the engine is reliable. My cousin Frank went over it with a fine-toothed comb.’
‘What is it?’
‘Holden Kingswood. Australian made, so parts are
cheap.’
‘I like it.’ I walked across the road and stared through the window. Blue vinyl bench seats ran the length of the front and back. ‘Roomy.’
‘Good. Cause it’s all yours. I’ve put a road map in the front for you.’ He handed me a set of keys. ‘Open up a bank account as soon as you arrive. I’ll transfer some money for you.’
‘Oh.’ I was holding the keys to my new car in one hand and all my possessions in the other. There was no reason to stay any longer. Yet leaving here, the last place where Harry knew my location, that was even harder than leaving Las Vegas had been. I took a deep breath, then another one. Tears pricked the back of my eyes as loneliness flooded my heart.
Damn him. Why hadn’t he loved me enough?
Uncle Ron was watching me with a concerned look. Most men were bad with tears and it seemed he was no different.
I dashed the back of my arm across my eyes. ‘I’m okay,’ I said, opening the back door and placing my bag on the seat.
‘You will be,’ he said.
I felt a flutter in my belly. She kicked at the most appropriate moments, as if to remind me what an idiot I was being. And she was right. Again. I wasn’t alone. I had her.
I opened the driver’s door and climbed in, winding down the window so I could say goodbye. It felt weird to be on the wrong side of the car.
‘Indicator and wipers will be opposite to what you’re used to,’ Uncle Ron said. ‘Only take a day of driving and you’ll have it.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For everything.’ Sometimes you found friends where you least expected them.
‘I’ll be in contact.’ He touched the tips of his fingers to his brow in a salute.
I put the key into the ignition and turned it. The car leapt to life.
‘Turn left here, then take your next right,’ Uncle Ron said. ‘Follow the signs to Canberra.’
I nodded, then promptly turned on the windscreen wipers. He let out a chuckle while I turned them off and instead put on the indicator. I pulled out of the parking spot, into the steady stream of traffic and headed out of Sydney.
Driving on the opposite side of the road took up most of my concentration, but tears still slid down my face.
Tess's Tale (The Chanel Series Book 3) Page 16
