Wyatt packed everything he owned into a carrier bag and walked outside. Harbutt was smoking another cigarette.
Mate, I could see what was happening, how it was all one way between Thea and you. Ill let Dern know nothing happened, you werent interested.
I dont care what you tell him. I dont care what he thinks. Its nothing to do with me.
The last Wyatt saw of Thea was her pinched face in the passenger seat of Derns car, begging a cigarette from Harbutt. He walked away from the motel, wondering at the binds and knots that people got themselves into over feelings.
Four
We found him, Mack Stolle said, and then Im afraid we lost him again.
He put the receiver to his other ear, reached for a pen and doodled on the pad in front of him. Hed been working on the Battle of Waterloo: Nelson, Hornblower, belching cannons, torn rigging above sailors with cutlasses in their teeth.
Thats what I said, and I stand by it, Stolle said. Eighty-seven per cent success rate in tracking missing persons.
He drew a splintered hole above the waterline in a French frigate. Thats right, near Mt Gambier. Hes on the run. You sure you want this bloke found? He beat up my operatives and got away from them.
Stolle looked up then, at the man in the chair across from him. No, I certainly will not be putting the same men on this case again. In fact, Ill be doing it myself.
Mostyn, bruised and sorry-looking, stirred in the office chair.
No. Yes. Thank you, Stolle said. Bye for now.
He replaced the handset. No guesses who that was.
She pissed off with us?
Stolle stuck his forefinger in his ear and agitated it. You could say that.
Im sorry, boss, Mostyn said.
Youre sorry. Im the one thats sorry. If you two pricks hadnt fucked up Id have delivered him to Brisbane by now. Id be on the Gold Coast, happy as a pig in shit, squandering our hard-earned fee at the roulette table in the Monte Carlo. He looked at Mostyn sharply. What went wrong anyway? Wheres young Whitney?
Forget him, he cleared out, Mostyn said. Look, we tracked Wyatt to Adelaide, lost him, found him up the bush somewhere, eventually followed him to some place near the border.
Stolles voice took on a lashing quality. The way I heard it, he was up the bush snatching a payroll. Id say you two dickheads tried to relieve him of it.
No way. He didnt have the money on him.
So you did try it on. Arsehole.
Boss, we had him, okay? We were in the actual room with him, needle primed ready to go. Naturally we searched his gear.
And you let him escape. I thought you were meant to be crash-hot with your hands and feet?
Mostyns gaze slid away from Stolles face. Well, yeah, I mean, hes a powerful bastard.
And you woke up on the back of a semi in Port Adelaide.
Mostyn nodded tightly.
Jesus Christ, Stolle said. So what happened to Whitney?
Got scared, did a bunk, buggered if I know.
Got scared with his pockets full of the blokes money, Stolle said.
No, boss. It wasnt
Just shut up, okay? Whitneys long gone. You he pointed, you want a chance to redeem yourself?
Some of the gloom left Mostyns face. You mean youre not giving me the sack?
Better the devil you know, right? Ive got three jobs for you. The main one is the picket line at Plastico. I want you to slip in and stir them up a bit, get the cops called if possible. Take your camera along. If some bastard takes a swing at someone or chucks a rock through a windscreen, the client will pay a bonus.
Wont I stand out?
Theres a whole heap of outside stirrers there. You wont be noticed.
Whos the client?
Lets just say hes a Minister of our fair state.
Mostyn knew how it worked. His family companys got shares in Plastico, plus he wants to bash the unions.
But you and me, we dont know that, all right, Chuckles?
Sure. What else?
Stolle grinned. He had a tight-skinned face and the grin seemed to stretch and split it. How does a 3 am wake-up call sound?
I can handle it.
Stolle pushed a folder across his desk. Tony Baggio, greengrocer, lives in Cheltenham.
Fuck no. Let one of the others take it.
Mostyn, you owe me, okay? Youll pick him up at three-thirty tomorrow morning. Hell have about seven grand on him, so take a gun with you. See that old Tony plus dough get to the market safely.
Jesus, boss, the Mafias doing these blokes over left, right and centre.
So shoot first and ask questions after.
Yeah, yeah. What else?
Stolle pushed another file across his desk. No hurry with this one. The client is Ameribank. They need information about the names on this list, deep background stuff if possible. Use our regular contacts in Social Security, the Lands Department, Motor Vehicles, Tax Office, Securities Commission. Tell them to fax it to mefrom a newsagent, not the officeand Ill pay cash on delivery.
Stolle watched Mostyn collect the files and leave the office. Despite his name, despite his failure to bring in Wyatt, Mostyn was good valuequick with his hands, a sure instinct for outguessing people. The failure to bring in Wyatt probably owed more to Wyatts skills than to Mostyns sticky fingers.
Stolle tolerated a certain level of dishonesty in his people. He could hardly do otherwise. Seven years ago hed gone by the name Securicor. On the surface hed been in the business of installing burglar alarms, video scanners and electric eyes, but mostly what he did was rob small companies. Theyd see Securicor in the yellow pages, call for a quote, and Stolle would wander around with a polaroid camera, a frown and a clipboard, noting doors and windows, distances and angles, making little sketches to show the proprietor, constructing models with the polaroid snaps.
What he didnt write down, but filed away in his head, were lock size and type, window height, alley layout, traffic direction on the one-way streets, who the neighbours were, whether or not there was space to back in a small truck, how close the nearest cop shop was. Then hed type up a report, quote a figure guaranteed to scare the proprietor off the idea, and wait a few weeks. If another firm had fitted security to the place in the meantime, fine, Stolle simply pulled a long face and carried on, as his mother used to say. But more often than not the proprietor would hold off for a while and Stolle would hit the premises one night and clean it out.
That came unstuck the night he got clubbed by a nightwatchman. He got away, but the headache lasted six months.
Then two years ago he was SecureSafe. It was a sweet operation, more or less legitimate. Hed show the customer only top of the line security devices, but install look-alikes made in some Bangkok sweatshop. The cheap gear worked just as well as the expensive stuff.
More or less.
Most of the time.
There was the occasional pissed-off letter, the odd rave on his answering machine, but if he ignored them they went away after a while.
