‘It would be a disaster for the business,’ she said. ‘There is a lot of competition and a lot of prejudice as Ahmed says.’
‘We have an arrangement,’ I said.
‘I have sent someone to bring her here. It will not take long. You will be gentle with her.’
‘Yes. Has she. . behaved violently like this before?’
She shook her head. ‘Not in such a way, no. But she was very distressed when she came from Sydney. She seems to be under great pressure but she will not say why.’
‘You asked her why?’
‘Of course, but she will say nothing. We have been very worried. In a way perhaps it is good that you are here. Perhaps we will learn something.’
Mrs Oberoi checked my name. She took me into a sitting room and offered tea which I refused in favour of more whisky. They brought Mary in about an hour later. The sari, headband, nose jewel and caste mark were gone. She wore boots, jeans and a sweater and her hair was tied up in a knot. No makeup. Her mother spoke to her in what I took to be Hindi. Mary nodded and her mother left.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I panicked.’
‘I’ll mend. Your uncle did a great job. I know you’ve been scared. I know about the man who tried to run you down in Burwood.’
‘Then you know all about. . what do you know?’
Mrs Oberoi had brought my jacket to the room. I reached into the pocket with my right hand without thinking and grimaced at the pain. I used my left hand and took out the photograph of her that Bobby had given me and the one I’d found in Simisola’s house.
‘You know a lot,’ she said. ‘How much have you told my mother?’
‘Nothing and I’ve got no reason to. What I don’t know is who put you up to contacting Bobby and harassing him when he didn’t respond.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘You have to. Otherwise I report this,’ I touched my shoulder, ‘to the police. You’re in trouble and your uncle is in trouble.’
‘You’re a bastard. If you found me, they can find me.’
‘Your choice. How did you keep your family from knowing what you did in Sydney?’
‘They don’t read the papers or watch television. They just work, night and day.’
She reached for the whisky bottle, uncapped it and took a swig. The hard shell she’d needed in Sydney was forming again.
‘You know Simisola’s dead. Did that have anything to do with you?’
‘No. How did you find me?’
‘Isabella.’
She laughed. ‘How much?’
‘Seven fifty.’
‘Cheap. How much are you offering me?’
‘I’m offering you my silence.’
‘They’re good people, my family.’
‘They seem to be.’
‘I’m the black sheep.’
‘So was I.’
‘There’s a difference. I was born in Fiji and brought up more strictly than you can believe. The only thing on the minds of my mother and father was to save money and get to Australia. They moved heaven and earth to do it. And I had to be good at all times. There couldn’t be the slightest thing the immigration Nazis could object to. They applied and waited and waited until the day came.’
I let her tell it her way. I had the feeling she’d give me what I wanted but she had to talk herself into it first.
‘My uncle had applied from India and he got here, too. Eventually. But he couldn’t practise. That was a blow. The strictness towards me continued but, hey, this is Australia. I wouldn’t wear it. I went to Sydney, tried to break into acting, but. . couldn’t. Have you got a cigarette?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘Bugger.’
Hard to see why she didn’t make it as an actress. She was pretty good. The performance as a demure, exotic Asian restaurant host had been convincing and now she was a convincing tough chick.
‘One thing led to another,’ she said, ‘and I ended up at Black Girls. It wasn’t so bad-mostly call-outs to nice places. They keep too much of the money and they watch you like hawks but. . Anyway, there was this guy who was something to do with the management. He came to me with a proposition.’
‘To entrap Bobby Forrest.’
‘Yeah. It was a good deal. He bought me a computer and showed me the ropes. It wasn’t hard to get under Bobby’s skin, believe me.’
‘At first.’
‘Right, at first. He was very cute and I didn’t mind that much that he couldn’t get it up. A lot of men can’t. There’s other ways if they’ve got any imagination.’
‘But Bobby didn’t have any imagination.’
‘No, he agonised and carried on. I only saw him twice.’
Mrs Oberoi opened the door. ‘Is everything all right?’
Mary looked ready to shout at her but she fought the impulse down.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’
Mary rubbed her forehead where the red spot had been. ‘Then Bobby met that woman and didn’t want to have anything to do with me. So I had to keep the pressure on. You know about all that?’
‘Yes. Who was this man?’
‘I’m afraid to tell you.’
‘Why did he want you to do all this?’
‘It wasn’t for him, it was for his boss. The boss owns the brothel.’
‘Why did you go to Burwood?’
‘After Bobby got killed and that media stuff about Miranda appeared I panicked. I wiped all the emails and the stuff on the site. He wanted them to send to the bitch Bobby took up with but I was scared to have them on my computer so I wiped them. That freaked this guy. He wanted me to get right away, go to Melbourne. To a brothel down there. I didn’t want to go. I hate Melbourne. It’s cold and wet and flat and bad things happen there.’
‘Bad things happen everywhere. Why Burwood?’
‘Burwood was as boring a place as I’d ever been to. I thought I could hide there. But he found me.’
‘And threatened you?’
‘Big time. I think he would’ve really hurt me but there was someone watching from across the street.’
‘What’s his name, Mary? You have to tell me.’
‘You’ll go away if I do? You won’t say anything about this,’ she pointed to my shoulder, ‘or say that I gave you his name?’
‘Right. You have my word.’
‘Piss on your word. His name is Alex Mountjoy.’
14
‘You know him,’ she said.
‘I know of him. So he’s the one who drove the car at you-bearded, drives a white Commodore?’
‘Yes.’
