minute. I helped O’Connor unhook the pump and get the petrol flowing.
‘What did you put in the coffee?’ I muttered as we bent over the hose.
‘Nothing.’
‘The pills, then?’
He sniggered. ‘Rohypnol in a Guarana box. It’ll jazz him up for a while and then he’ll be flat on his face.’
‘You’re a sneaky bastard.’
‘I’m a lawyer. It’s expected.’
I glanced at the car. Master was staring suspiciously at us and his eyes had a fixed, haunted look. I flipped open the mobile phone and felt in my jacket pocket for the napkin with Piper’s number.
‘Who’s this?’ Not Piper’s voice.
‘Cliff Hardy for Andy Piper.’
‘Hang on.’
Piper’s gravelly growl came on the line. ‘What the fuck d’you want, Hardy?’
I had to think quickly. Was a phone Piper used likely to be bugged? Probably not. How would he react to what I had to tell him? With luck, it’d shake him up a bit. ‘I’ve talked with Stewart Master. He’s armed and he’s angry and he’s hopped up on something. I had to tell him about our deal.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘He’s all right about it. Wait a minute.’ O’Connor was looking helpless as the pump clicked off. I waved him back to the car and put the pump back on the stand.
‘Hardy,’ O’Connor muttered. ‘This is our chance. Come on. You’re a business person, a professional, not an antisocial criminal like him.’
I hesitated but only for a split second. O’Connor was for self-preservation at any cost and I’ve never been that way. I snarled at him to get back in the car and he did.
When I had the phone back to my ear Piper was spluttering.
‘Don’t tell me to wait, you cunt.’
‘Shut up and listen. The shit’s hit the fan. The cops are looking for me and I’ve more or less kidnapped Master’s lawyer. Master’s got some sort of idea about where his wife might be but he’s holding off until I come up with something. If you’ve found out anything at all, tell me. I need to string him along.’
I heard him shout at someone to turn a race call down and then he came back on the line. ‘I still get the hundred thousand.’
‘If it works out, yes. Come on.’
‘It’s not much, and it might be more to do with the shipment than this cunt North, but there’s some connection. I’m hearing about a guy named Starcevich and his flash boat.’
‘And?’
‘That’s it.’
‘That’s not worth a hundred grand.’
‘It’s not bad for a couple of hours and it fucking better be worth it.’
He hung up. Black Andy at his best. I put the phone away, checked the amount on the pump and went in to pay. We’d been there too long with too big a chance of attracting attention. I hurried back to the car to find O’Connor sitting white-faced behind the wheel and Master swearing at him and waving his gun around.
‘Get started, O’Connor. Knock it off, Master. D’you want everybody around to take a second and third look at you?’
O’Connor got the car moving and Master subsided. His mood swings were impossible to anticipate and getting more violent. One minute he was in control, then he was ranting. He was quiet for a short spell and then he said, ‘Well, what did you learn?’
‘Does the name Starcevich mean anything to you?’
I heard the upholstery hiss as he slumped back against the seat and I turned around. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said. ‘I know it.’
I twisted back to make sure O’Connor was headed for the bridge before turning again to look at Master. He was a mess; the drug was working on him but he was fighting it with everything he had.
‘I don’t know where North lives or what boltholes he might have,’ Master said slowly, battling to keep from slurring. ‘But I do know someone who’s involved in getting the shipment to where it’s supposed to go and I know that North and he are friends, as much as anyone could be a friend to a prick like him. That’s Ray Starcevich.’
‘If you knew that, why didn’t you go straight for him?’
‘I did. He’s got a boat at the Watsons Bay marina. I went there but they said he was out on the water. Then Bryce here convinced me you were on the ball and that it’d be worth my while to see you first. Fuck knows that it has been.’
I thought about it as we approached the bridge. Boats had figured generally in this bloody business from the start- Reg Penny’s yacht, the drug shipment coming by boat, Lorrie mentioning that she had a yacht. For no good reason I said, ‘That’s where Lorries boat is.’
Master’s tired head jerked. ‘What? Lorrie hasn’t got a boat.’
‘She told me she has and you didn’t know about it. It’s called the
… some kind of red wine…’
‘Jesus,’ Master said. His pale eyes, red-rimmed now from fatigue and stress, went hard. ‘You’ve seen it? You’ve been on it… with her?’
I kept my eyes steady on his and a fist ready to fire in case he lost it completely. ‘Don’t be stupid. No. She just mentioned it early on, when I was getting the picture about you and her and all this.’
‘What does all this babble mean?’ O’Connor said as he slowed to join the traffic selecting lanes.
‘It means we’re headed for Watsons Bay,’ I said. ‘So make sure you get in the right lane.’
The marina and yacht club were located to the south of Camp Cove, putting them close to Vaucluse. That might have made it more expensive but around here it hardly mattered- a coffee could cost five bucks. O’Connor knew the way because he’d been there earlier in the day with Master when he failed to find Starcevich. Master had fallen quiet in the back and O’Connor was gaining in confidence by the minute.
‘He’s falling asleep,’ O’Connor whispered. ‘If I drive around for a few minute-’
‘Don’t even think it.’ Master could hardly say the words; it wasn’t much of a threat.
The marina had three jetties about twenty-five metres apart with moorings on both sides of each. The daylight was beginning to fade and most of the activity was of the pack-up-and-go kind. Boats again, I thought. I was beginning to hate the bloody things. ‘Where was Starcevich’s boat supposed to be?’
‘Jetty one,’ Master mumbled. ‘Ballina Belle.’
‘Have some more coffee and try to stay with it,’ I said. ‘I’m going to check something out.’
‘What the fuck’s wrong with me?’
‘O’Connor drugged you. Don’t hurt him unless you have to, just keep him here. Back in a minute.’
I got out and walked towards the marina office searching my memory for the name of Lorrie’s boat. Yalumba?. Penfold? Then it came to me- Merlot. The woman in the office looked about ready to call it a day but there were still a few people moving around. I had no idea what security was like at a marina, but I didn’t see any high gates or electronic equipment.
‘Excuse me, is Mrs Master’s yacht, the Merlot, around?’
‘Around? What do you mean around?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with boatspeak. Is it here?’
She pointed to jetty three. ‘She’s moored there.’
‘The thing is, Mrs Master’s thinking of selling it. I’ve got her lawyer here, a Mr O’Connor and the prospective buyer. I wonder if we could take a look at her?’
Suddenly her level of interest went up ten notches. ‘That poor woman. I helped her learn to sail. She caught on quick. Then there was that trial. I read all about it.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘O’Connor. That’s the name of the guy who defended her hubby, right?’
I nodded. ‘Right.’
‘I saw a photo of him. Fatty. He’s here?’
