Gina was wearing pyjamas and a light dressing gown. She was barefooted. The babies were in twin cots. She gathered them up, almost dropping one. ‘I’m so weak,’ she moaned.
I took one of the infants and tucked it under my arm.
‘Come on!’ Ralston hissed. ‘I don’t want to have to hit him again.’
I shot a quick glance at Runty as we dashed for the stairs. He was sitting on the floor with his legs splayed out. There was blood running down his face from a gash on his forehead but he was stirring. Both babies started to yell as we hit the stairs and Gina would have stopped if I hadn’t shouted at her to keep going. She stumbled, but kept moving. The kids screamed their heads off and Ralston’s feet thumped on the carpet as he took the last six steps in a jump. We rushed through the hall and dining room and kitchen and out onto the tiled area at the back Ralston was in the lead, bent low with the shotgun amazingly steady as he ran.
We rounded the house and saw a green car come bucketing through the gates. It skidded to a stop a few metres through the gates. ‘Shit,’ Ralston yelled. ‘Get them in the van.’ I bundled Gina and the twins in and slid the door closed. Barbour was out of his car and the stubby carbine was in his hands. I fired at him, knowing I wouldn’t get him at the range. I heard the bullet thud into the brick wall. There was a boom as Ralston sent a shell into the front of Barbour’s car. The bonnet and grille collapsed. Barbour jumped aside and raised his gun. I snapped off another shot and missed again. Ralston had run forward and was close now. He aimed low and fired. Barbour jumped in the air and fell, his gun falling free. Ralston was getting into the van. I ran up to the window. ‘It’s all gone wrong. We can’t leave him.’ Ralston grinned at me as he started the engine. ‘He’ll be OK I loaded every second shell with light birdshot. Let’s get the hell out here.’
Barbour was sitting up now, clutching at his legs. His trouser pants were turning dark but he was swearing and getting ready to crawl across the grass for his gun. The Hiace shot down the drive, swerving around the mangled green car, and I followed. Trying to reverse fast and avoid an obstacle while your hands are shaking isn’t easy, and I clipped the brick pillar on the right-hand side as I went through. As I straightened up I saw that Barbour was on his feet with his gun in his hand. Runty was staggering towards him down the drive. I hoped Baldy wouldn’t blow him away out of sheer disappointment.
I glanced at the dashboard clock as I pulled away and saw that the whole thing had taken eight minutes. We’d allowed ourselves ten. Barbour had arrived about two minutes early, just soon enough to get a couple of dozen pellets in his legs. Tough.
I’d nutted the whole thing out with Joe Galvani in the pub eight days back. We drove directly to the airport where we met up with Joe, who had clothes for Gina and the twins as well as tickets on a flight to Perth. He had people standing by there to take care of them. The kids were still screaming but they calmed down when Joe produced heated bottles. Gina was slowly getting her bearings and taking stock of things. She dressed in the back of the van and got the twins togged up. Joe had a double stroller unfolded and when they were installed with their bottles they looked as if nothing unusual had happened.
We trooped into the terminal and Joe stayed with them until the plane left. Ralston and I drank coffee while we waited for him. He came towards us jauntily, looking ten years younger than when I’d last seen him.
‘To the bar, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘For champagne or whatever pleases you. A fantastic job you blokes did.’
I shook my head. ‘You can get us another coffee, Joe. Keith here doesn’t drink, and it was him that did the hard part.’
Ralston stood up and shook Joe’s hand. ‘I was happy to help, Mr Galvani. You and Cliff should go and have your drink. The worst thing a bloke in my spot can do is be a wet blanket. I’m going home to get some sleep.’
‘Thanks, Keith,’ I said. ‘I’ll get you that job if I have to make O.C. eat the lifts out of his Florsheims.’
He laughed and looked genuinely happy for the first time. ‘One thing, did you see me hesitate before I let go at the car?’
‘No.’
He laughed again. ‘Yeah, in all the excitement I forgot which shell had the birdshot, the first or the second. I bloody nearly gave him the first one.’
24
Joe Galvani was left holding all the cards and he played them judiciously. There was no way of proving that Ken’s hirelings had killed Scott and Joe did not pursue the matter. He had no wish to devastate his elderly parents by branding their oldest son a fratricide. But he punished Ken severely where it hurt-in his pride and purse. He forced him to withdraw the Ultimo site from consideration as a home for the casino on pain of revealing Ken’s conflict of interest and his intimidation of the dead architect. Ralston’s evidence of Ken’s manipulation of various of the casino’s resources for his own ends also came into play. The creditors came down hard on Ken and his businesses went rapidly into receivership and liquidation.
I gave Gina a full report over the telephone early on in the proceedings. She backed Joe’s decision and we both choked up a bit when she said she thought Scott would have approved of the arrangement. She paid me more money than I’d earned and I kept it because she had more than she needed. I finished my stint at the casino and handed over to Nick Stockley, a New Yorker who looked as if he knew his way around. O.C. approved my recommendations that Keith Ralston be promoted to security 2IC and that the head of the motor pool, Terry Baxter, be sacked.
All of which left me back at square one, with my Glebe house in need of repair, my office under constant threat of demolition, my stiff shoulder and my usual run of clients. One night I walked to the Cafe Napoli and encountered Vita Drewe who was leaving. She looked right through me and Dylan showed his teeth. I still had the cat and the Falcon and several friends, but I was definitely minus Glen Withers. A few weeks after Ken Galvani was declared bankrupt an invitation arrived-to the wedding of Glenys Ernestine Withers and Warren Blake Purcell. Maybe I’ll go and maybe I won’t. What sort of wedding present do you give two coppers?
As for the permanent site for the casino, the selection procedure was delayed when Ken’s bid was withdrawn. Last I heard, they were still talking about it.
