our crumbs, but I think he wants to wipe us out altogether.’
‘So this wasn’t the first trouble here?’
Mulholland firmed his jaw muscles and shook his head in the way fighters do to loosen up. ‘First in daylight. There were a couple of pathetic goes at the office a while back. A shot at burning down a shed. Nothing we couldn’t handle.’
‘What sort of money’s involved?’ I said.
‘If you mean what’s up for grabs between Barnes Enterprises and some of the other big operators, it’s fairly complicated,’ Anna said. She touched the computer screen. ‘I could prepare a breakdown for you, but it’ll take me a few days. Do you happen to know how Mrs Todd is?’
‘She’s fine,’ I said. ‘Well… picking up.’
Mulholland seemed to be having trouble controlling a hostile spasm. ‘How come she’s taking an interest all of a sudden? That your doing?’
I shrugged. ‘I might have helped a bit.’
The scar-puckering grin again. ‘You’re all right, Cliff. Anna, you want some overtime?’
She nodded eagerly. The working relationship between them seemed to be excellent, and it is axiomatic that a good boss gets and keeps good workers. All the signs were that here at least Barnes Todd was surrounded by loyalty and efficiency.
‘Get the stuff he needs together.’ He took his feet from the desk. ‘Fancy a walk? I’ll show you over the place.’
For the next hour we walked from shed to shed, looked over the storage and maintenance areas, loading and unloading docks. We talked in bursts, frequently interrupted by the noise of the planes.
‘Pretty big show,’ I said.
‘Was getting bigger.’ He rubbed the back of his neck where he had taken the hard rabbit punch.
‘Sore head?’
‘Nah. Just a tap. Had ‘em harder than that, as you can probably tell.’
‘Where did you fight?’
‘Everywhere. Fought for the state welter title. Lost on points. But I won a few.’
I pointed to three identical gunmetal blue Ford Lasers parked in the shadow of a container. ‘What’re they for? Staff cars?’
Mulholland laughed. ‘They went out with the FBT tax. No, Barnes was pretty pissed off with the security service we were using. He was playing around with the idea of setting up his own.’
We were back at the office. Anna was about to start work on compiling data for me. She flourished a floppy disk. ‘How do you want it, Cliff? On disk, tape, paper, what?’
‘I want it secure,’ I said. ‘Very, very secure.’
9
‘I’m for a beer,’ Bob Mulholland said. ‘Cliff?’
It was after five o’clock. He packed some papers into a Gladstone bag, took a light jacket off a peg and had a few words with Anna about locking up her computer disks and the security of the buildings and yards.
‘We’ve got alarms all around,’ he told me as we walked towards the front gate. ‘Two night watchmen and a couple of dogs. It’s pretty good.’
We went through the gate. ‘No car?’ I said.
‘Nah, I live in Mascot. Walk to work. Keeps the fat down.’
I couldn’t see much fat and he walked briskly, but I had the feeling that it had been a long day for him and maybe the rabbit punch had hurt him more than he let on. He accepted the offer of a lift gratefully. He settled into the seat and stretched his legs. The Gladstone bag sat between his feet.
‘Good car?’
I started the engine, which ran smoothly and softly.
‘Sounds all right. Had it long?’
‘Not long. I traded its older brother in on it. I like Falcons, don’t ask me why.’
He laughed. ‘I like Holdens. Don’t know why either. Let’s go to the Beauchamp. On Botany Road.’
We didn’t speak on the short drive. Mulholland stared straight in front of him. He sighed once, deeply. I realised that he was very tired indeed.
The pub was old and on a corner, the way a pub should be. It also boasted Sky Channel TV, which I’m not so sure about. After the chemical gunge outside, the air, filled with the aromas of beer, smoke and sweat, seemed almost fresh. We went into the public bar and Mulholland settled his bag between his legs, as workmen have done for centuries. ‘I owe you one. That Stillson would’ve made a mess of me. What’ll it be?’
We both had middies of old and sank them quickly, without talking. Mulholland knew the barman and a few of the other drinkers. They acknowledged him respectfully. I’d seen ex-boxers get that kind of reception before, but usually those who kept on using their fists. Mulholland’s respect seemed to carry a tinge of affection as well.
‘My buy.’ I got the next round. The beer tasted good and I was happy to be there drinking it. But I knew he hadn’t invited me along just for the company.
When we were halfway through the second round Mulholland said, ‘Let’s go and sit down, I’m bushed.’
We sat at a table with a wet surface and full astray but as far as possible from the men gathered rowdily around the giant TV screen. The barman hurried over and wiped away the slops. He also removed the ashtray. ‘You’ve got clout in here,’ I said.
Mulholland sipped his beer. ‘Worked around here most of my life. Ever since I got down from the bush. I’ve done everything-truckie, storeman, maintenance at Caltex, the lot.’
‘How long have you worked for Barnes?’
‘Fifteen years, no, eighteen. From the beginning.’ He snorted. ‘He made me go to night school, would you believe it? I was thirty-five, a boong from the bush, bloody near illiterate. Hardly a thought in m’ head.’
‘How did you meet him, Bob?’
‘Korea. He was my CO.’
‘I thought they only took veterans from the war in Korea.’
‘No, I was with the occupation mob in Japan. They took a few of us.’
‘You must’ve been young.’
He grinned. ‘Joined in forty-nine when I was sixteen. Used the birth certificate of an uncle of mine who was a few years older. No one knew. That “all boongs look alike” stuff was operating, you know.’
I realised that I didn’t know anything about
Barnes Todd’s war record except what he’d told me. That was all anecdotal, throwaway stuff.
Knowledge is the name of my game. ‘What sort an officer was he?’
‘The best. Were you in the service, Cliff?’
‘Malaya.’
‘I thought that was before Korea.’
‘It started before, but it went on a lot later. I was in at the very end. Tell me about Barnes.’
‘Not that much to tell. We were in the Third Battalion, A Company. Saw a hell of a lot of action-up to Manchuria and down to Seoul and back to the parallel.’
‘Frostbite Ridge?’
‘My oath. Barnes looked after us. Bloody brilliant soldier. Whole thing was a waste of time, of course, but I didn’t know that then.’
He finished his drink so abruptly that I thought he was about to leave, but he took out five dollars. ‘Three’s my limit,’ he said. ‘Mind getting ‘em? Get a glass of water too, would you?’
There was a soccer match on the TV and the singlet-, overall- and T-shirt-wearing men were shouting and swearing as they drank and watched. The carpet in front of the TV set was worn through to the underlay. The walls and ceiling were stained from the cigarette fug that enveloped the watchers. When I got back with the
