He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday but his shirt looked fairly fresh and he didnt smell as bad, although it was hard to tell with all the tobacco fallout. Whoever the woman was whod lent him the money, she wasnt handy with a needle. His jacket still lacked the button that would enable it to be fastened smartly. The pub was fairly quiet with just a few locals judiciously wetting their whistles. Tuesday was two days short of pension day and the beer money had to be spun out. The Cleveland didnt go in for counter lunches or happy hours or any of the other attractions. It was a place for drinking and talking.
So, White said. You put out any feelers yet?
A few.
Frank Parker?
Lets just talk to Leo first.
But he couldnt let it go. He sighed again as he fished out his Drum. Hes a good cop, Parker.
I was irritated and finished the middy quicker than Id intended. He thinks the world of you, too.
Youre a bastard, Hardy.
You said that before. Hello, this must be him or his twin brother.
The man coming towards us could only have been a former cop. He had the walk, a sort of swagger that changes over the years as the belly gets bigger but still says, I can do things to you that you cant do to me. He wasnt big, under six feet, but he was wide and thick through, especially around the middle. He wore a grey suit that had fitted him when he carried a few less kilos and a tie with some kind of emblem on it. Even in the gloom of the Cleveland, I could see that his nose was a mass of purple veins and a similar tracery spread across his cheeks.
Yeah, thats Leo. White signalled and a schooner of old appeared on the bar as Grogan reached us. He took it up and drank a third of it before dropping heavily onto a stool and shaking Whites hand.
Gday, Barry. Ta for the drink. He pointed to Whites diminished money pile. Youre flush.
Temporarily in funds, Leo. Dyou know Cliff Hardy?
Grogan polished off another six or seven ounces. Heard of him. Gday, Hardy.
Leo. I held up three fingers to the barman and took a closer look at Grogans tie. The emblem was crossed boxing gloves. He saw me looking.
State amateur light-heavy champ in 1966. You look as if youve gone a few rounds in your time.
Welter, I said, Police Boys Club stuff. Lost in the state semis to Clem Carter.
The beers arrived, I paid and Grogan finished number one and took a surprisingly small sip of number two. The grog might have ruined his career and looks but perhaps he was still capable of shrewdness. I remember Carter. Good fighter but a dumb fucker.
Clem had been a close mate of mine for a number of years. Grogans assessment was harsh. Clem had escaped from gaol, taken me along for the ride at gunpoint to get even with the man whod framed him and stolen his wife and ended up dead. He was unlucky, I said. Like Barry here.
Grogan snorted his amusement and took a solid pull on the schooner. Over to you, Barry. What the fuckre we all doing here, apart from remembering when we could throw a punch or two?
White had fiddled with the cigarette hed rolled while Grogan and I had sparred. Now he lit it, drank some beer and pulled his stool in closer so that we were in a fairly tight ring. The paranoid thought suddenly occurred to me that this whole thing could be a set-up directed at me. I held a good store of secrets of one kind or another, and I knew there were people who could benefit from knowing things I knew. I studied the torsos of the two men closely, but they were both too flabby for me to tell whether there was any electrical equipment under their shirts. I resolved to say as little as possible until I could get a true sense of the meeting.
A while back, White said, you happened to tell me that you knew a thing or two about the Ramona Beckett case.
Grogan sipped his beer and looked annoyed, but that might have been because he spilled some down his shirt. Oh, yeah. Did I?
You were… talkative. It rang a bell with me and I did a bit of checking. There was a reward out. There still is a reward.
Bullshit. Her fathers dead.
It was in his fucking will, Leo. A quarter of a million bucks.
Grogan looked at me. I shrugged and had to hope that concealed any surprise on my face. Barry White was the original corkscrew man. Here he was putting a twist on things right at the start. It made me wonder how many twists hed introduced in his spiel to me.
What do you reckon, Hardy? Grogan said.
Its one of the things Im going to look into, I said.
White puffed smoke away from our faces. Youre our starting point, Leo. We cant make a move without your information. Thats why youre in for twenty-five per cent.
Grogan laughed. Jesus, I dont believe this. Well, at least Ive got a drink out of it from youse. And I reckon Ill have another. He drained the schooner and held it up without looking at the barman. For all his dismissiveness, he was watching Barry White closely. I was having trouble reading the signs in their behaviour towards one another. Animosity certainly, but also something else.
White didnt change expression. I didnt expect you to understand right off the bat. I know youve got no time for me, but this is serious. Ive paid Hardy a five hundred dollar retainer and hes on two hundred a day and expensesthats how serious it is.
Grogan raised an eyebrow at me and I nodded. I didnt think you had a pot to piss in, Barry, he said harshly. Didnt your missus take you for every fucking cent?
She did, the bitch. But Ive got a backer. White nodded as the barman looked inquiringly at the money pile. More drinks appeared and the pile shrunk to almost nothing. Thats why I say your end is twenty-five per cent.
Grogan started on his next drink. I wouldnt back you if you were the only horse in the race. When the pressure came on, you were ready to put every other bastard in to save your skin. Probably did just that.
White shook his head. Ancient history, Leo. Ive had my troubles just like you. Hardy did a short stretch for frigging around with evidence. Were none of us cleanskins, but this is a chance to get our hands on some real money. He smiled and the old, booze-eroded charm was in his face. And to bring a criminal or criminals to justice.
Christ, youre a wanker, Grogan said.
Hardy doesnt think so. Hes got the contacts, Leo. Frank Parkers a mate of his; he knows journos and lawyers. He can front the family. He knew the woman.
Hes hardly said a fucking thing, Grogan said.
I bought you a drink.
Grogan laughed. So you did. So you did. Fuck it, Ill play along. But Ill tell you something, Barry boy. If this comes to anything and you dont play straight with me, Ill see you get hurt.
White butted his cigarette and reached for his fresh glass which he hadnt touched. Understood.
OK. Thiss what I know. Johnno Hawkins headed up the team that looked into the disappearance. I was in on it, but I was just a shit-kickerdriving, picking up the beer and pies and that. The case got a hell of a lot of publicity so Johnno was told to get busy and to come up with something quick. Well, he got busy all right, interviewed every bastard in sight and came up with sweet fuck-all.
Things died down, the case went on the back burner. One night I was out on the piss with this sheila I had then and Johnno and his wife, Peg. Did you ever meet her, Peggy Hawkins?
White shook his head and drank. He was looking decidedly unhappy.
Fucking good-looker, Grogan said. Sharp features, skinny, but with tits out to here. They reckon she could… never mind. Anyway, Johnno and Peg got into a fight, a real screaming match. This is back at their flat in Rose Bay. They were both pissed and Id gone off with my tart for a root in one of the bedrooms. I reckon theyd forgotten about us. I heard Peg say to Johnno something like, You wouldnt be able to afford her if you hadnt got all that money for keeping quiet about that ransom note. Johnno told her to shut up and he hit her. He resigned from the force soon after that and went up to the Gold Coast.
White looked increasingly unhappy as Grogans story unfolded. When it was finished he loosened his tie and slid the knot down. Johnno Hawkins is dead, White said. Had a heart attack out fishing a year or so ago.
Grogan took up his glass and raised it like a toast. Thats right. But Peggys still alive and fucking, last I heard.
