Wyatt - 03 - Death Deal

by Garry Disher

  A red light blinked away the seconds on the bedside clock. Nurse was mesmerised. The numerals climbed to 14:59 and dead on three oclock the telephone rang.

  Nurse went through the possibilities. Room service, wanting to know if maids could clean now. Unlikely. Lovell had a permanent arrangement here. This room, 212, wouldnt be touched until five.

  Maybe one of the buyers. Nurse thought hed heard knocking earlier. Three dealers, itching to get back on the street and sell to the users, getting twitchy, more and more dangerous as they saw the weekend slipping away from them.

  He could bluff it out. Sorry, youve got the wrong person, kind of thing. The handset seemed heavy and slick in his damp hand. Hello?

  It was Lovell.

  Nurse? What the fuck are you doing? Ive just had three very pissed-off messages on my answering machine. I thought you mustve cleared off on me.

  Nurses mouth was dryfear, and a hangover from the drug. He coughed, tried to summon spit from somewhere. Something went wrong. I

  Not on the phone. Stop there, Im coming up.

  And the line went dead. This time Nurse dressed fully. He put on a tie. It made him feel more in control. When the knock came he stood near the door but didnt touch it. Yes?

  Its me, arsehole. Open the door.

  Nurse unlocked the door and it smacked into his shoulder as Lovell and a second man came into the room. The second man was small, quick and crouching: in five seconds he had checked the room, the bathroom, the wardrobe, under the bed. Clean, he said.

  Lovell had been watching from the door, his hand on something in the side pocket of his jacket. Go down and help the others. You know the drill.

  The man nodded and slipped away. Despite himself, Nurse had to know what was going on. Wheres he going?

  You think Id go into a situation like this without backup and counter surveillance? So what happened? The drug squad get to you? Someone rip you off?

  You could say that.

  Lovell crossed the room and the blows were hard, stunning, the flat of his hands left, right, like the base of a frying pan across Nurses face. Nurse folded, contracting his limbs protectively, bobbing before the sinewy pilot as if in prayer.

  Either you were ripped off or you werent, Lovell said. Dont muck around with me.

  I didnt rip you off, I swear I didnt.

  Lovell was close and dangerous. Well soon know, wont we? Unexplained wealth, your debt to Bone suddenly squared, Ill soon know. Now, what the fuck happened? He jerked back. You stink. You look like shit. What happened?

  There was this woman.

  Nurse waited for the explosion. It didnt come. Instead, there was an iciness in Lovell, a glittering patience.

  We came back here, Nurse continued. She made me a drink. Im talking about last night. She made me a drink he yawned and the next thing I know its half past two in the afternoon and Ive been ripped off. Wallet, watch, cufflinks

  Tell it to the insurance company. She got the stuff, is that what youre trying to tell me?

  Nurse nodded.

  Show me.

  They went to the wardrobe. Nurse had upended the briefcase among the mothballs and his carpet slippers. Lovell picked it up and did what hed done, shook it, put his hand inside it.

  Im sorry, Nurse said.

  Lovell ignored him. We need to find her. Tell me about last night. Fucking leave anything out and Ill wipe the floor with you.

  His voice was hoarse with warning. Hard knots showed at the corners of his jaw. Nurse swallowed and told him: early floor show, a couple of drinks, dinner alone, a few dollars here and there on blackjack and two-up, then this woman, Sonia.

  Describe her.

  Nurse described her.

  And thats all?

  What do you mean?

  Come on, Nurse. Was she alone? Did she slip anyone the wink? Did anyone see you who can verify your story? Think, for Christs sake.

  Well, there was this one incident at the roulette table. Management tried to chuck her out.

  Why?

  Nurse shrugged. I suppose they thought she was sus.

  But not you, eh? Anybody else could tell she looked wrong, but you did your thinking through your prick.

  Nurse kept his eyes on the floor. Lovell stood very close to him and the mans long torso seemed redolent of hard, rangy competence. It was like being back in the schoolyard bumping chests with some bullyboy.

  What are you going to do?

  Me? Find her, what do you think? A, she ripped me off. B, what if she talks?

  All the concentration was on the girl. Nurse began to relax.

  That was a mistake. Lovell read it in Nurses mind and body and stabbed a forefinger under his jaw like a gun barrel. Not that youre off the hook. Profit and loss, you know what Im talking about? Youre well and truly in the red.

  * * * *

  Twenty-one

  Jesus Christ, Lovell, youre stretching the relationship.

  Come off it, Rice. You get your cut.

  Yeah, for turning a blind eye, not for sticking my neck out.

  With irritation, Lovell took three fifties from his wallet and shoved them into Rices suitcoat pocket. The detective jerked away as though hed been fouled, fished out the notes and folded them into his wallet.

  What if they refuse?

  Sweet-talk them. If that doesnt work, suggest youll wander around frisking the patrons.

  Theyve got clout. Theyll laugh in my face. Id be busted back to uniform duty in fucking Ipswich if I hassled the patrons.

  Lovell was exasperated. Youre the cop. You know how to get cooperation out of people. Look, just tell them some flash types from the States have been working a scam in the casinos out here and you need to see if theyve hit the Monte Carlo yet.

  Rice tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his unmarked Sigma and thought about it. Lovell was in the front seat with him. The car was parked in a side street adjacent to the casino. Three young women flashed by the car on roller blades. They were leggy and deeply tanned, licking ice-creams. Their bikinis were brightly coloured scraps of cloth that might as well not have existed, and both men groaned, collapsing flesh and ice-cream into one serviceable image. Nurse saw them too. He was waiting outside the car, sitting palely fat and selfconscious on a wood and cast-iron municipal bench under a young palm tree.

  Lovell nudged Rice. Look at him. What a prick.

  Rice looked but it meant nothing to him. Who is he anyway?

  He can ID the woman.

  I dont know about this, Lovell. How do I explain the pair of you to their security people?

  You flash your badge, they wont want to see if weve got badges too. Just say were part of the task force, whatever it is you bastards play at.

  Rice looked hard at Lovell. The detective was overweight, neckless, fair-skinned, and he wore a prickly, carroty moustache and metal-frame sunglasses ten years out of date. He shook his head. You two are the least likely cops Ive ever seen.

  Lovell looked out at the soft, fat banker and then down at his own long frame, his jeans and boots. Lets just try it, okay? So long as they think its for their own protection and we arent there to hassle the patrons, they wont think about us.

  They got out of the car. Lovell motioned to Nurse, who wriggled his backside to the front edge of the bench, placed his hands on his knees, levered himself to his feet. He looked pink and damp and exhausted. Where are we going?

  Youll see.

  Saturday, five oclock in the afternoon. The Monte Carlo operated twenty-four hours a day but Saturday afternoons and evenings were the most popular times. The three men pushed through to the main room, Rice flashing his badge a couple of times to force a path. The air was heavily scented with perfume, tanning oil and aftershave lotion. The Monte Carlo was small and downmarket. Lovell saw men and women in shorts and running shoes; one woman wore a halter top, one man a pair of thongs. There were plenty of potted plants and marble surfaces in the main gaming room. The carpet was spongy, in shades of stain-concea
ling red and brown. And no clocks, no windows to the outside, in this twenty-four-hours-a-day world.

  Rice led them to a set of steps against a wall at the side of the room. A sign said Private. Up here, he said.

  They came to a mirror-glass observation platform that ran around all four sides of the big room. A couple of still, silent men in tuxedos stood looking down at the gambling tables. Other men watched banks of video monitors. A glass door was set in the wall next to the monitors. The sign on it said Security Manager.

  Rice knocked and went in, showing his badge. Lovell and Nurse crowded in behind him. Detective Constables White and Brown, Rice said, waving his hand at them. I wonder if you could help us.

  The security manager had the word Security monogrammed to his shirt. His tie had tiny dice all over it like insects. Pinned to the tie was a nameplate, Wayland. He stood, frowning at them. Depends.

  Weve had word that a ring of scam artists is in town. They milked a couple of million off some places in Reno and Las Vegas before they got barred. Now theyre trying it here. We need to look at your tapes. See if we can spot them.

  The security manager looked appalled. Which ones? We run eight tapes, continuous twenty-four hour loops. Could take you days.

  Weve narrowed it down to early last night, Lovell said, say, between eight and ten, one of the roulette tables. He turned to Nurse, who was watching glumly. DC White was here with his wife last night and thought he recognised one of them. Which table was it, Danny?

  They ushered Nurse to the mirror-glass wall. He looked down, pointed wordlessly. Table Five, the security manager said.

  He turned away to confer with a man watching a screen. Lovell dug his forefinger hard into Nurses flank. Brighten up, for Christs sake. Try to act the part.

  Nurse shook himself, breathed in heavily, tried to smile.

  Wayland came back carrying a tape. We can watch it in my office.

  Lovell took the tape from him. Im afraid this is still a covert operation from a police point, of view. Perhaps if you could show us how to work the machine and then leave us to do our job? Wont take long, and if we see anything that concerns the casino, youll be informed straightaway.

  Wayland shrugged. Suit yourself.

  When he was gone, they played the tape. The time was displayed in the top right corner. It read 18:00 at the start. Lovell fastforwarded until it read 20:30, then slowed it to one and a half times normal speed. At 20:40 Nurse stiffened. There.

  Lovell froze the image. It showed the roulette table, Nurse arrested in the act of staring into the cleavage of a young woman wearing a cocktail dress. There was a grimace on his face that might have been a leer, a ghastly smile on hers.

  Cant tell a thing, Rice said. Move it on.

  Lovell pressed the play button again. Faces and bodies became clearer in movement. The men watched for a while in silence.

  Not bad, Lovell said. Did you dick her, fat man?

  Nurse seemed to struggle with the question. Sure.

  Bet you didnt.

  Lovell concentrated on the screen again. Wonder who she is.

  I know who she is, Rice said. The big detective stretched, easing a kink in his back. A gust of body odour escaped with it. Her names Carol Something. Used to work for an escort service in the city. Came down here about six months ago.

  Know where I can find her?

  Rice regarded him carefully. Whats on your mind, Lovell?

  I just want to talk.

  Sure you do.

  On the way out, Rice slapped the tape into the palm of the security manager and was full of apologies. Sorry, pal, false alarm.

  Wayland looked unhappily after them. But who are we supposed to look out for?

  Two blokes, youngish, tanned, Rice called, describing half of the men in the casino. The other half were oldish and tanned. They plunged down the stairs and out of the building.

  On the footpath outside, Rice scribbled an address on a piece of paper. Youre on your own now, pal. Remember there are things I cant turn a blind eye to.

  No worries.

  Lovell watched him go. The detectives suit was too small, the fabric sweat-stained and caught tight in his armpits and groin. Girls in singlet tops were leaning on an open MG. Lovell saw Rice stop to eyeball them. The mans tumescent heat was almost palpable.

  Lovell clapped his arm around Nurses shoulder. Right, Chuckles, time you went home.

  Is that it?

  Lovells eyes were fierce and deep like coals and ice. I dont think so, do you? This is just the beginning.

  He watched Nurse walk away. The address Rice had given him proved to be a block of townhouse apartments on a canal. The area was new, transported palms set in manicured lawns, private jetties and massive yellow-brick houses straight out of Boys Town raffle brochures. Lovell pulled in behind a hot-pink VW Superbug and drew on a pair of latex gloves.

  The woman who had doped Nurse and stolen seventy-five grands worth of heroin from him seemed to know why he was there. In Lovells experience, people who know theyre going to die will either go berserk or collapse into a kind of sleep, limp and fatalistic. This one collapsed. She opened the door and the light left her eyes and the elasticity drained from her neck and shoulders.

  Carol, Lovell said. Youve got something of mine.

  She muttered softly. Lovell tilted her chin. Say again?

  Not any more.

  The silly cow had kept enough for her own stash and sold the rest on the street for five grand. Lovell pocketed the money. A measly five grand, meaning he had another seventy grand to find.

  When he left Carol she was ODing on the stuff shed kept for herself. He liked the neatness of that. He could have used a knife on her, or a pair of her tights, but that would have spoilt Rices day.

  * * * *

  Twenty-two

  Wyatt leaned over her, scarcely brushed her forehead with his mouth, but she woke instantly and dragged him down. Stay.

  No.

  She sighed. Just testing.

  He couldnt stay because this was an inside job and the police would look hard at anyone who knew about the bank transfer. They would look hardest at the branch staff and the security firm but when they drew a blank there they would look at other people in the know. They could conceivably question friends and neighbours and Anna Reid might find herself accounting for the strange man she was seen kissing goodbye in her dressing gown on a Sunday morning one week before the hit on the TrustBank in Logan City.

  So Wyatt was leaving at 3 am. He leaned over, let her plant kisses around his neck, his ears. He tingled with it.

  He caught a cruising taxi on Coronation Drive in Auchenflower and took it to a street corner four blocks from the Victoria Hotel. He walked the rest of the way. The lobby was deserted. He slept until 10 am, awoken by cleaning staff in the corridor outside his room. He felt a curious kind of peace and realised what it was. Tension like a second skin had bound him for too long but now hed torn through it. Hunted, crossed, destitute, he had been living a young punks version of viciousness and instinctive cunning. But his hours with Anna Reid, the promise of the job, had released him and now he felt compact and alert.

  There was an express bus to Logan City at eleven oclock. Wyatt would have preferred a car but he didnt want to risk stealing one, he didnt want to squander Anna Reids five thousand on buying one that proved to be unreliable, and hed long ago lost all his fake ID so he couldnt hire one. There were six people on the bus: two men and a woman bleary-eyed from an all-night bender; an elderly couple dressed for church; a man in a tracksuit carrying an Adidas bag. Wyatt sat at the rear, under the push-out window where he could watch his back and his front.

  The shopping centre had the blighted, end-of-the-world atmosphere of a cheap studio set. Someone had thrown a rock at a jewellers window, cracking but not breaking the glass. A pair of womens underpants cringed next to a half-consumed apple in the gutter outside the milk bar opposite the main TrustBank branch. The milk bar was open but the streets were
long, broad, windswept and empty. Wyatt went in and bought coffee and a Sunday paper. He sat at a round plastic garden table by the window and drank his coffee.

  Using the newspaper propped as cover, he scanned the bank on the other side of the street. It was constructed of plate glass, aluminium and prefabricated blocks of concrete, like any new bank anywhere. There was one front entrance, glass, next to an automatic teller machine set in windows screened by a broad-slatted vertical blind on the inside of the glass.