“Jacko Moody,” I said.
They nodded and everyone drank. It was like a salute but not a cheerful one.
“Jacko’s a champion for sure,” Sunday said. “You’d agree with that?”
“With luck and good management, yes.”
“He’s fucked before he starts if Coluzzi gets him,” Jerome said.
“He hasn’t got a contract has he? He’s barely out of the prelims.”
“He’s barely out of the bush too,” Sunday spoke slowly. “He’s got a sort of contract with Trueman, he signed something. He was so anxious to get into the game he did what Trueman told him. He doesn’t know exactly what he agreed to. What’s sure is that Trueman’s in with Coluzzi and he’ll do a deal on Jacko if the money’s right.”
“So will this bastard,” Jerome grunted.
I slammed my glass onto the table top. “Well let’s talk about that! What brought you down on me Jerome?”
Jerome knocked back some of his beer and scowled at me across the table. Physically he was almost a monster but his brain appeared to be working well enough. He held up thick fingers with enormously broad nails as he made the points.
“You were at Trueman’s gym when Coluzzi was there and you stopped a row. You lied about who you were to Ted here and one of Coluzzi’s boys escorted you out of Redfern. Then you fuckin’ come down here pokin’ around and looking for Ricky. I didn’t trust him either. That was enough for me. You admit you know Coluzzi.”
“I can explain it,” I said, “but it’s a long story and not much of it is to do with what we’re talking about now.”
“Double bloody Dutch,” Jerome growled.
“Easy Tommy,” Sunday said, “I told you this Hardy was alright, you didn’t need to bash him.”
“You wouldn’t take me like that again Hardy.”
“I know I wouldn’t Jerome. But if we can get over all that we could do something useful about this fight business.” I could feel the racial disharmony mounting and the need for some practical, immediate proposal to deflate it. I’d been ready to sell Coluzzi out the minute I was sure I could get away from him alive. This was a bit earlier than I’d have chosen and it was hard work dealing with a hot-head like Jerome. Sunday was in better control of himself though and I felt I could work something out with him.
“We can do our own planning,” Jerome said.
“Sure you can, but could you get Coluzzi and his mob in a particular place at a particular time?”
“No way,” Sadie put in. “Those dagoes are dead scared of our boys. They carry guns, too.”
“OK, OK,” Sunday said impatiently. “We’d have trouble getting close enough to Coluzzi to smell the garlic. What’s your idea?”
“I’ll look into Trueman’s connections with Coluzzi and if there’s anything in that I’ll give it to Tickener. He’ll screw them in the paper. And I’ll set up a meeting with Coluzzi and have Jerome and a few others along, that should be fun.”
“It sounds a bit fancy to me,” Jerome said.
“Yeah, it’s fancier than hitting people over the head with boomerangs, but where did that ever get anyone?”
Sadie laughed. “Drink up and I’ll shout. I reckon it sounds alright. Jimmy?”
Sunday and I drained our glasses. Sadie and Williams did the same. Sadie put them on the tin tray.
“I’m on,” Sunday said quietly. “Ted?”
“Me too. I’ll go and see Jacko and word him up a bit. He’s a nervy bastard Jacko and he’s worried about this Rosso.”
“Why?” I asked. “He can beat him.”
“I reckon, but he says Trueman’s teaching him some trick or something.” Williams’ voice trailed off vaguely.
“Sounds fishy,” Sunday muttered. “Jacko wouldn’t need any tricks to take the Italian.”
Sadie came back with the drinks. Jerome grabbed his and downed it in two swallows.
“It’ll be the death of you Tommy,” Sadie said.
Jerome wiped his mouth. “Yeah, what a pity. Well, I gotta go.”
With a little imagination I could include myself in the farewell. I decided to and to follow it up.
“Before you go, can you tell me why you don’t trust Ricky Simmonds?”
“Don’t?”
“Slip of the tongue. Didn’t, then?”
Jerome looked at our faces in turn and let his eyes rest on mine. Then he shook his head. “I’m not talking personal about one of ours to you Hardy. You might be alright like Jimmy says – we’ll see.” Pain shot through him and he winced as he stood up. He kept himself straight though and walked out of the pub. The door slammed behind him and Sunday let out a long, relieved breath.
“It’s lucky you’re a good talker Hardy,” he said. “Wouldn’t have fancied your chances in a re-match.”
“You’re so right.” We drank and didn’t say anything for a few minutes. The door opened and two men came in brushing water off their clothes and swearing about the weather. Sadie got up and went behind the bar to serve them. I could hear the swish of tyres on the road outside. The fine day had caved in, the way it can in Sydney, in a few minutes, without warning.
14
I signalled to Sadie for another round. “This’ll do me,” I said. “I’ve got things on tonight, I can’t be pissed.”
Sunday nodded, then he tapped himself on the forehead.
“Got a message for you. Forgot with all this boxin’ business going on. From Penny. She wanted to get in touch with you. Reckoned she saw Noni.”
“Where?”
“I dunno. Not around here. Penny moved out the other night and went into town somewhere. She phoned me and wanted to talk to you. She’d forgotten your last name. I said you’d be in the book. Are you?”
I didn’t answer. Sadie came with the beer and I drank automatically although thirst had long since been defeated. It sounded odd, help from an unexpected quarter at this stage of the game. Again I got the feeling that events were being stage-managed, directed from on high but why and by whom I didn’t know. Noni on the loose fitted in with the feeling I had that she wasn’t in direct danger, but the further involvement of Penny I hadn’t anticipated. Images of the two girls, black and white, formed in my mind. The black girl, young and clean, nursing a corroding hate of the white girl with the murky past. Sunday snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Hey! Hey Hardy! You there man?”
I came out of it. “Yes. Just thinking. Did she say where she’d seen her? Noni?”
“No, we didn’t chat. Seemed like it was just then, this morning about ten, but that was just a feeling. Listen, you’ve got to take it easy with Penny, Hardy.”
“What do you mean?”
He drank some beer and pulled on his thin cigarette. It burned fiercely and unevenly down one side and he flicked the ash off into a beer puddle. Williams was sitting massive and still beside him. I thought I had never seen a man so passive but it was a menacing passivity, like a reservoir of emotion, dammed up, able to be burst.
“Penny’s got a lot of guts, you know?” Sunday said jerkily. “She’s real determined. Anything she wants she goes after and nothin’ stops her. Some people down here say she’s a bit cracked.”
“I could see she was out of the ordinary. Why cracked though?”
He leaned back in his chair and expelled smoke through the battered gristle and bone that had once been a nose. My feeling was that Sunday saw himself as a leader, a wise and respected man, and was building up that role little by little every day. That was the way it was done and one mistake could ruin it all. He knew me for what I was, a functionary, a weapon of white society and he wanted to keep me trained on my own kind, but he needed to reveal a little of what he knew to hold me that way.
