Master's mates ch-26

by Peter Corris

  My mobile rang as I turned into my street and I swore as I answered it and shuffled the car into a tight parking spot.

  ‘Hardy.’

  ‘This is Bryce O’Connor. Have you heard the news?’

  ‘What news? How’d you get on with Master?’

  ‘Stewart Master has escaped.’

  23

  The car hadn’t quite come to a stop and I had to stand on the brake to stop it bumping the one in front. I swore again and O’Connors voice sputtered in my ear.

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  ‘Sorry. I was driving. When was this?’

  ‘They don’t know. He was missed this morning.’

  ‘Did you talk to him yesterday?’

  ‘Of course I did. I tried to get him to tell me anything he could about this Eastman. He said nothing and he hung up on me. I tried to call back and he refused to take the calls. What the hell am I going to do? The police are coming to talk to me this morning.’

  ‘For God’s sake, don’t tell them anything about Lorrie. Just be your above-it-all self. Everything between you and your client is confidential, etc’

  ‘I’m not sure that’ll do under the circumstances.’

  ‘It’ll have to do. I’m working on this and I’ve got some help. That’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘What if Master contacts me?’

  ‘Not likely, but if he does just tell him what I’ve told you and give him my mobile number. I’ll meet him anywhere, any time. But say as little about me as you possibly can to the police.’

  ‘They’ll know you visited him and they know you’re working for his wife. Oh my God, they’ll try to contact her.’

  ‘They won’t succeed, will they?’

  I rang off and sat in the car thinking about it. I wished I knew more about Warren North-how he thought, how long his fuse was, how he’d react to this news. Was it good or bad for Lorrie? Would Master know where North was likely to take her? And would he intervene on his own and, if so, with what resources? How would this affect Piper and the people he was associated with? Lots of questions, no answers, as usual.

  I went inside, stripped off, showered and shaved, and put on fresh clothes. The light on the answering machine was flickering and I pressed the button.

  ‘Hey, Cliff. You know the voice and you’ve got the number. Call me if you need me.’

  Hank Bachelor, boy detective, still sounding cheerful. I had hours to kill before the meeting with Piper. I put my mobile on the charger and cleaned and oiled my pistol. The chamois shoulder holster was creased and dusty from hanging in a closet and I wiped it down and smoothed it out before strapping it on. It felt uncomfortable as it always had, but it sat flat and neat under my armpit and didn’t sag under the weight of the gun.

  The mobile was fully charged and I put it down alongside my keys and wandered through the house. I turned the computer on and checked the email, but there were no further unsourced messages and those that came up I scarcely registered. The phone rang and I snatched up the upstairs extension.

  ‘Hardy, this is Inspector Carmichael. No doubt you’ve heard about Master.’

  ‘I’ve heard.’

  ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about it.’

  ‘I still need to talk to you. We’re on our way to your place.’

  ‘You think I’ve got Stewie Master stashed away here?’

  ‘See you directly.’

  No, you won’t. I snatched up the mobile and the keys and got out.

  As everyone knows, time goes more quickly as you get older, but, in a funny way, when you’re trying to kill time it slows down. I was still much too early for the Marrickville appointment, even after filling the car with petrol and oil and getting the tyres checked and the windscreen cleaned. If I lived in Bondi, which I’d often thought of doing, I’d put in the time at the beach, staring at the waves, but where do you go between Petersham, where I got the petrol, and Marrickville?

  When Carmichael and Hammond got to my place and found me gone, the chances were they’d put out a bulletin on my car. I didn’t want to drive aimlessly around. I remembered a park in Marrickville where they had some of the last remaining grass tennis courts in Sydney. As I drove I caught a news bulletin about Master’s escape from Avonlea. There were still no details on how he’d managed it, but there was a full and accurate description of him. At least he wasn’t described as ‘dangerous’.

  I parked in the shade, bought a take-away coffee across the road and strolled down to the courts. I had the mobile with me. If Stewart Master wanted to contact me and was able to, he could. Involved with an assassin, a corrupt legal and police network, an escaped convict and investigating police, my position was far from secure. I’d been in the middle of nasty games before, but not with as many serious players.

  A mixed doubles match between some accomplished players was in progress on beautifully grassed courts with the white lines clearly marked. Nothing quite like it. The dinosaur era, as John McEnroe calls it, right here. The old-world aspect of the tennis game, taking me back to my teenage years playing inter-club competition on suburban grass courts, had a calming effect.

  The middle-aged players all had competent serves and ground strokes, but it was clear that the surface was a novelty to them. They tried to set themselves for topspin shots but the ball wouldn’t bounce high enough and they got frustrated. The players taking the net position on serve handled themselves well enough, but when it came to approaching the net at speed they faltered, unsure of their footing. All but one of them were fundamentally back court players anyway, and the woman who was most comfortable at the net chopped her opponents up severely. She and her partner were clearly going to win and consequently were having the most fun. I sipped coffee and watched, envying them the freedom to play games. I clapped one of her cross-court volleys, got an appreciative wave in reply, and went back to the car.

  The mobile chirped and I answered it.

  ‘Hardy.’

  ‘This is Carmichael, Hardy. You’re being foolish.’

  I cut him off.

  Marrickville has been through as many changes as most places in the inner-west. Jeff Fenech was known as the ‘Marrickville Mauler’, so I guess the Maltese must have had a foothold. Then there was a heavy Greek and Lebanese presence and more recently Asians have moved in strongly. The Demetrios restaurant was a product of that earlier migrant wave, battling bravely against the rising tide of Vietnamese restaurants and Chinese supermarkets. I parked at a short distance in spaces provided for rail travellers and made my way back to the main street. I wore a loose cotton jacket with a denim shirt, drill slacks and leather boots. The Smith amp; Wesson rode high and tight under my arm. My wallet was zipped into a pocket in the jacket. I was sweating under a high sun in a clear sky. When I thought about it, Black Andy Piper was one of the last people in Sydney I’d want to see.

  They were waiting for me at the door of the Demetrios- both big, both in suits, both ex-coppers. Who else would Piper employ and what else could men like that do once their warrant cards had been surrendered or, more likely, taken from them? I half recognised one of them but couldn’t recall his name; didn’t know the other.

  ‘Gidday, Hardy, you arsehole. Remember me?’

  ‘Remind me.’

  ‘Loomis.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Mr Loomis, detective sergeant that was.’

  ‘Right. Come this way, Hardy, and don’t give us any trouble. This is a respectable place.’

  There were a number of responses I could have made but I resisted the impulse. Loomis was a thug I’d run into years before when a missing person case had crossed wires with a semi-illegal police sting. Loomis liked hurting people then and probably still did. No point in antagonising him now. I followed him and the other one into the restaurant and straight down the corridor that led to the toilets. Loomis’s mate held the door open and I went in with Loomis following.

  ‘Strip, Hardy,’ Loomis said,
‘and then bend over.’

  I took the. 38 and pointed it at the bridge of Loomis’s big-pored nose. ‘I’ll strip,’ I said. ‘I know you have to be sure I’m not wired. But I’m not going to spread my bum for you or anyone else and you can tell Black Andy that for me. I’m feeling fucking humiliated enough just talking to him.’

  The other heavy made a move towards me but I kept the gun steady on Loomis, who gave a buck-toothed smile, causing me to remember his nickname. He gestured to his mate to back off. ‘You always had some balls, Hardy, I’ll give you that. You can put the gun within reach and strip. Me and Chris’ll just admire your physique while you show us there’s no wire.’

  ‘Fair enough, Bucky.’

  His face darkened but he wasn’t about to be put off his stride. ‘You’ll keep, Hardy. You’ll unload the gun before we go back in and drop the bullets into a pocket of your jacket. Then I think Mr Piper’ll be happy to see you. Of course, if you’re wearing a wire Chris and me will have to take steps here and now.’

  I put the pistol on the shelf in front of the mirror between two washbasins and took off my jacket and shirt along with the holster. I undid my belt and dropped my strides. I lowered my underpants to my knees, then I pulled them up along with the pants. I lifted one leg after the other onto the shelf, unzipped the boots and pulled them off, then put them back on. It was all demeaning and tiring and made my blood boil, but I kept my eyes on Loomis while making sure the pistol was within reach.

  About halfway through the procedure the door to the toilet swung in, but Chris put his weight against it.

  ‘Not now,’ he said.

  Loomis, who’d been leaning against a stall door, pushed off. ‘Okay. That’s fine. Get dressed and we’ll go and have some lunch. Remember what I said about the gun. You can hang on to the pocket knife and the mobile.’

  I took my time about getting ready just to annoy him. We went back into the corridor and I flipped out the magazine of the. 38 and spilled shells into my hand. Loomis leaned down to do a count and nodded as I put the pistol back in the holster. Then he gripped my wrist, twisted it and caught the shells as they fell out.

  ‘Fuck you, Hardy,’ he said.

  There was a scattering of diners in the restaurant but they took no notice of the three of us as we walked towards a table at the back, half partitioned off from the rest of the place. Black Andy Piper sat alone at the table and I’d scarcely have recognised him. Never tall, he’d expanded to twice the bulk he’d had when he kicked the shit out of me at the Cross. The hair was now silvery white. With his nutcracker nose and jaw structure and leathery skin, he looked like an inflated Bob Hawke. The table was big enough for four but Piper waved his minions away and gestured for me to sit opposite him. He exchanged nods with Loomis before dismissing him.

  ‘You’re looking well, Hardy,’ he said, and his growl wasn’t unlike Hawke s either.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What d’you do? Take vitamins?’

  ‘Good genes.’

  He had a glass in front of him and another beside it and there was a bottle in an ice bucket on a stand. He lifted the bottle out and showed it to me.

  ‘Retsina?’

  ‘Fine.’

  He poured me a glass and pushed it across, topped up his own and proposed a toast. ‘To letting bygones be bygones.’

  I raised my glass in response. ‘For now at least.’

  ‘Fair enough. So you’re still mates with that cunt Parker. He saved your bacon a few times as I recall.’

  The retsina was cold and strong and I wanted to gulp it, forced myself not to. ‘We’re mates. Save the abuse, Piper. You’ve got no time for Frank and it’s mutual.’

  Piper took a good pull on his wine and gave a contented sigh. ‘I’ve ordered. Tucker’ll be here in a while. I love this kind of food. Mary introduced me to it. You like it?’

  ‘Yes. Let’s get down to it. Warren North. You want him for your reasons and I want him for mine. Where is he?’

  Piper smiled showing teeth he’d spent a lot of money on-crowns, ceramic in front where he once had gold. ‘Jesus, Hardy, not so fast. We have to come to terms. I dunno where the fuck he is but I’m going to find out. He’s in control of some merchandise but he’s lost the franchise, if you know what I mean. I have to know how you stand on that.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a shit. If people want to put poppy juice in their veins, I say let ‘em. I’d legalise it.’

  ‘Would you now? That’d really fuck things up. Okay… ah, here’s the food.’

  I knew I was going to have to put up with Piper’s Godfather routine and decided I might as well enjoy it. The spread that was laid out looked to be enough for four or six and must have accounted for his weight gain. He speared things from a number of plates, piled them up in front of him and gave the food his full attention. I followed suit, taking about a quarter of what he did. It was the usual- stuffed olives and vine leaves, various dips, flat bread, spiced and skewered meats, grilled and pickled vegetables. Hog heaven.

  I started to speak but Piper held up one hand to check me and concentrated on his food until he felt fuelled enough to get down to business. He wasn’t finished by a long shot, but he was prepared to pick now and talk between bites and sips.

  ‘I suppose you know by now how the Master thing was supposed to work,’ Piper said. ‘Of course, I was just a… facilitator, not a player.’

  ‘I’ve got a pretty good idea. But North was playing his own game. I’m betting the original shipment was meant to be soft but North and maybe Master changed it to hard and that made a certain amount of killing worthwhile.’

  Piper sucked on an olive, spat the pip accurately into a dish and nodded. ‘Something like that. North’s a ratbag and the word is he’s closed down a lot of his options.’

  ‘So, can you find him?’

  ‘Yeah, given time. He’ll be trying to cut a deal with one scumbag or another, but he’s going to find it hard. Eventually he’ll end up between a rock and a hard place. Do you know that Jack Nicholson’s the first person to go on the record as saying that? It was when all that Polanski shit was going down.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were a movie buff

  ‘I’m not. Mary is.’

  ‘Ah, Mary’

  ‘That’s right. Mary. You can see that I’ve got interests to protect in this thing.’

  ‘One of them being Jack the Odd.’

  ‘You’ve got the idea. So I have to proceed cautiously and make sure it all comes out right in the end.’

  ‘Me too.’

  “What’s in it for you, Hardy? The woman? Are you fucking her? I wouldn’t if I was you. That Master’s a tough cunt and now that he’s out and about…’

  I’d had enough to eat but I thought about another piece of bread with some babaganoush and decided why not? It gave me a chance to think of a reply. I ate the bread in two bites and drank some retsina. ‘Professional pride.’

  Piper’s white-toothed grin was mostly a sneer. ‘Oh, yeah, I remember you were always big on that, like fuck you were.’

  ‘Come on, Piper. You know what I want-to be there at the time and make sure the woman’s safe. What do you want, apart from a clean slate for all of your mates?’

  Piper slid a last piece of meat to the end of a skewer and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and then pointed the sharp end of the skewer at me. ‘A hundred grand,’ he said.

  24

  As I walked back to my car with the bullets for the. 38 loose in my pocket, I thought that Piper’s demand for money was a good thing. If he’d offered to help out of the goodness of his heart I wouldn’t have trusted him an inch. But a hundred thousand tax free made sense. He had my mobile number and I had a number he said would reach him. I was digesting the meal and reloading the gun as I sat in the car. It suddenly hit me how suspicious this would look to an observer and brought home to me that the car itself was a hot item.

  I drove to the garage in Surry Hills where I have it serviced and b
ooked it in for a thorough check-up, telling them I’d be out of town for a while and to take their time. I hired a Mitsubishi 4WD because you never know where you’re likely to have to go in this business, and drove to my office. I circled the area carefully a couple of times making sure the police hadn’t posted a lookout and also checking that Black Andy hadn’t given me a tail. In all likelihood, Carmichael and Hammond had gone there after Glebe and then just put out a call on the car. They’d have other things to attend to, but the murders and the escape of my client’s husband and the whereabouts of the client herself would put the matter high on their list. They’d keep checking and O’Connor would only be able to keep the lid on her disappearance for so long. I’d made this point to Piper and he’d just nodded indifferently as he detached something from his renovated molars with a toothpick.

  I parked at a one hour meter in William Street and went up to the office. I seldom carry the pistol but it was a comfort as I mounted the stairs in the half light, all the stairwell gets in the afternoon. I didn’t expect trouble here, and that’s exactly when you should be ready for it. I could hear some of my fellow tenants going about their businesses, legit and semi-legit. Stephanie Stargazer bailed me up as I put my key in the door.

  ‘Ho, Cliff. A bad karma day?’

  ‘Why d’you say that, Steff?’

  ‘You look tense. Give me your details and I’ll lay it all out for you, free of charge.’

  For years I’ve resisted giving her the stuff about the time and circumstances of my birth, most of which I don’t know anyway. I could get them easily enough from my sister, who flirted with this bullshit years ago and got the drum from our mother before she died. But Mum would have made it up if she’d felt like it, and from the way she drank it was unlikely she’d have remembered accurately. Dad, in the way of dads in those days, was absent from the event.