Wyatt - 04 - Cross Kill (15 page)

So thats the deal, your trump
card? You give me the Mesics, I put the word out that the contracts cancelled?

Thats it.

Kepler seemed to lean back and size
him up. I dont doubt you could knock them off,
if
you had the right
sort of team.

Wyatt had written this script in his
head and so far none of the players had missed a beat. Yes, he said.

And you cant put a team together
if theres a contract out and every second hoons got the hots for you.

Kepler was still keeping to the
script. Kepler was a survivor. He tested everything for the profit margin and
the risk factor before he committed himself. Wyatt leaned forward. Believe it
or not, Ive got friends, people who would rather work for me than against me,
despite the forty grand youve got on my head. All Ill need from you at the
start is some operating cash.

Kepler thought about it. I dont
think I can do that.

Why not?

A man likes to keep an eye on his
investment. I mean, your pals could rip you off, you could fuck up, I could be
throwing away good money and earning myself a lot of pain if the Mesics hear
about this.

Wyatt frowned, stringing this along.
What have you got in mind?

My people work with you. They dont
get their hands dirty, they dont put their lives at risk, but theyll be in
the know and theyll provide whatever resources you need.

Wyatt waited for a few seconds. He
worked on the principle that self interest was the driving motive in human
affairs. He didnt trust Kepler. He didnt trust anyone. Unfortunately,
however, to do the work he did he had to trust some people part of the way. The
jobs where he could operate solo were rare. He had to work with others. The
best he could do was watch his back, minimise the risks, cancel the forces
acting against him before they could take effect. As long as they know whos
the boss, he said finally.

Maybe, Kepler shrugged. It all
sounds pretty dicey to me.

Wyatt looked directly at the fat man
and it was a look of hard, tired wisdom. Kepler, make up your mind nowdo you
want me out of the way, or do you want me to hand you the Mesics?

Kepler probably wanted both things.
Certainly Kepler might order him killed after the Mesics had been hit. Wyatt
had worked that factor into his thinking.

Meanwhile he was tired of going
around in circles. Do you understand me, Kepler? I hand you the Mesics. You
cancel the contract. We have to agree at that basic level. Otherwise Ill kill
you. Even if it means I have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life,
youll still be dead.

We could hit the Mesics ourselves.

Then why havent you done it? The
truth is youre still weak in Melbourne. I know the city. I know the Mesic
set-up. I know how to hit them. Its what Im good at. Its my job.

The script ended here. The only step
left to Wyatt was to kill Kepler now, in the bed. Towns and Rose sensed that
and seemed to wait with him while Kepler thought it through.

Youve got a deal, Kepler said.

Saying it, making the decision, had
the effect of giving Kepler back some of the control hed lost. He straightened
in the bed. Work out the details with Towns and Rose. Theyll go with you to
Melbourne, but understand thisthey will not be put at risk.

Wyatt shook his head.
You
understand
that Rose stays here with you.

* * * *

Twenty-five

Wyatt
knew it was no good dangling big bucks under Jardines nose, or appealing to
old times, or promising anything at all. Jardine didnt need to work at his old
trade again. He did all right, his computer beating the bookies odds most of
the time and there was always someone who wanted to buy the heists he planned.
He had books to read, music, memories, a life of stylish quietness and
solitude. Still, a sharkish look of hunger had appeared on Jardines face in
the past few days, sharpening as hed helped Wyatt hit the Outfit operations
one after the other. There was only one way of approaching Jardine. Wyatt said
simply, Ill need your help in Melbourne.

There might have been a grin on
Jardines face. Uh huh.

It was Sunday morning. They were in
Jardines rooms at the Dorset and the balcony window was open, letting in a
morning breeze. Wyatt had slept on the couch. He felt stiff and cranky,
impatient to start work.

Just then a trick of the atmosphere
brought a voice clearly into the room from the street below: Oppose the third
runway. Sign this petition now.

Jardine jerked his head at the
window and this time he did smile. I donated twenty bucks to the cause
yesterday.

Wyatt suddenly felt an unease close
to melancholy. Now and then he glimpsed inside a normal life, a normal persons
engagement with the wider world. Certainly there were things in the world that
he hatedstupidity, viciousness, ostentationbut hed never voted, joined a
cause, had a pub debate with anyone about anything. If forced to think about it
he might argue that life muddled along only because people compromised, but he
rarely gave a thought to what made the world tick. It was as though the things
other people did had nothing to do with him. And while he was perceptive enough
to understand what some people in some situations were thinking other crims,
for example, or hostages and holdup victimshe realised he knew very little
about the inner lives of ordinary people. He said helplessly, What third
runway?

Jardine laughed. Next time you read
the paper, check out the news for a change. He knew Wyatt. He knew that Wyatt
read newspapers solely for the purpose of the tingle in his nerve endings that
told him here was a sweet job: a payroll, a bank, a ticket office.

Wyatt hadnt sat around like this
with a friend for a long time. He hadnt felt embarrassed for a long time. But
this was small talk and he wasnt comfortable with it. I can offer you a fee,
or a percentage.

Jardine was drinking coffee. Hed
gone down for croissants earlier and he dabbed at the pastry flakes on his
chest with a wet forefinger. Are you trusting your instincts, or do the facts
fit?

Both. The place feels right, theres
no security to speak of, and internally the Mesics are in a mess. I need to hit
them this coming Thursday, when the moneys there, before someone else moves in
on them.

And Keplers agreed to bankroll
you?

Wyatt nodded. We meet his people in
Melbourne tomorrow morning to work out the details.

We do the hit, they come in after
us and mop up?

Wyatt nodded again.

Are you sure the Mesics will be at
home when we hit the place?

They feel vulnerable at present.
Some cowboys have hit a couple of their operations. Also, theyre not likely to
go out and leave the money unattended.

Will two of us be enough? Cant
Kepler send in his hard boys as well?

Keplers people are there for
backup before the job. I dont like the idea of too many guns on the ground,
especially Outfit guns. Also, Keplers not keen on his people getting hurt, or
being there if the cops come in. If there is any flack, we cop it. I can live
with that.

Jardine looked across the room at
his computer. The face of the monitor was milky grey under the dust sheet. Of
course, it would help if the bloke you took with you on this job had worked
with you before.

Wyatt said, Yes.

And he knew Melbourne.

That too.

Plus he hadnt forgotten his old
skills and wouldnt rob you.

Wyatt stood up. Come on, Jardine.
Yes or no?

I want a flat fee.

Ill pay you fifty thousand. If
theres nothing in the house, if it all goes wrong, Ill have to owe you.

Coming from anyone else, Jardine
said, that wouldnt bring me any comfort.

Wyatt put ticket wallets on the
coffee table. Ansett at four oclock.

* * * *

Twenty-six

The
phone rang just as Bax was knocking off for the day. He picked it up and heard
Stella Mesic say, Is Mack there?

This was a signal and Bax felt
himself go tight inside. Theres no Mack here, sorry. You must have the wrong
number.

Sorry about that, Stella said. The
line went dead and after a few minutes of paper shuffling, Bax rang through to
reserve an unmarked Falcon from the motor pool. It was waiting for him in the
garage and Bax cringed as he strapped on the seatbelt: the interior smelt of
men who lived on cigarettes and nerves and doner kebabs. Bax had also read
somewhere about the vinyl in modern cars, how it secreted toxins into the air
you breathed.

He cranked down the window a little
and headed across to the Doncaster Freeway, where he took the Bulleen Road
exit. Stella Mesics blue XJ6 was waiting in the Heidi Gallery car park. Bax
skirted the stained grey flank of the gallery, dodged sculptures and trees, and
found Stella at the rivers edge.

She didnt smile, didnt touch him,
just stood there clasping her upper arms, and that was hard for Bax. Shed
snatched some time with him on the weekend, and Bax was playing it through his
head like a film: her legs, her flat brown stomach, the smattering of fine
hairs around her navel.

Now it was as if none of that had
ever happened when she said flatly, Weve got a problem.

He swallowed. A problem?

A cop came by the house last night.

In a rush, Bax said, Internal
affairs? Asking about me?

A grimace showed on her face. Calm
down, nothing to do with you. This was an overweight individual called Napper,
cunning but not very sharp. An ordinary station cop, a sergeant, only he wasnt
wearing his uniform.

Local?

No. Some inner suburban nick.

Bax couldnt work it out. What did
he want?

He said he had reliable
information. He said the family was going to be hit soon. He said theyd be
pros, and theyd be armed. He said he thought wed like to know.

Bax ran his mind through the names
of men hed put away over the years and men whod ever worked with or for the
Mesics or set up in opposition to them. He said, thinking aloud, The guy in
the Volvo last week.

Therefore we have to treat what
this cop says seriously; it supports what we already know.

Did this Napper character say where
he got his information from? I mean, how come he approached you first and not
the local boys or D24? Did he name names?

Bax was losing control a little. He
knew it from the way Stella was watching him, head cocked at an angle, waiting
for the bluster to pass.

Well, we come to the crux of the
matter, dont we? she said. One, our Mr Napper thought we might prefer to
deal with the problem ourselves, avoid having cops hiding in the shrubbery.
Two, he said he knew who and when and how, but at this stage he wasnt at
liberty to divulge that sort of information.

Bax nodded. He thought you might
like to think it over, come to some sort of arrangement with him.

Exactly. A ten thousand dollar
arrangement.

And once this crisis is over, Bax
said, hell be on the doorstep again, wondering if some more permanent sort of
arrangement mightnt be possible.

Yeah, well, youd know all about
that, Stella said, and the way she said it was like a knife slicing through
Baxs heart.

He coughed. Who did he speak to?
All three of you?

Good, your minds working. He spoke
to Leo and me. Victor was at the gym and we havent told him yet. I thought we
might leave him out of things at this stage.

How did Leo take it?

How do you expect? Hes in a stew,
now hes had time to think about it. He wants to bring in some of his hood
friends to guard the place.

Bax sighed, visualising the carnage.
Think hell tell Victor?

I talked long and hard and
persuaded him not to. I said wed deal with it. But hes unreliable, easily
swayed by Victor.

Ten thousand bucks, Bax mused. When
does Napper want to meet you again?

Wednesday. Neutral ground, he said.
Hell let us know.

Ill check him out for you.

Stella stood close to him, touched
his arm. Sunlight spangled her hair, her dress, the water in the river. I was
counting on you to warn him off, beat him up or something. Tell him this is an
undercover operation hes walked in on. At least come to the meeting and help
us negotiate.

Bax put plenty of expression into
his face and voice. He held her arms, leaned forward, kissed her briefly. Sweetheart,
I cant. I cant risk upsetting another cop, or revealing that Im linked in
any way. All he has to do is drop a quiet word in the right ears and Im done
for,
{
and you with me.

Stella jerked free and stepped away,
her shoes tearing a clump of onionweed. He could smell it, and the rivers
staleness. He was back at the beginning with her. She was sharp and angry when
she said, So we fork out ten thousand dollars and he gets away with it,
leaving me with a lot of hassles and you in the clear. Is that what youre
saying?