Wyatt - 04 - Cross Kill (16 page)

Putting his mind to it, keeping his
voice low, his hands to himself, Bax said softly, Theres a way around this. I
know how we can beat this cop.

She watched him, her head cocked.

He went on, turning the force of his
eyes on her: Trust me, Stel.

Bax had been told that he had liquid
eyes. Her shoulders shifted uncertainly. He reached for her hand. You know Im
good at this sort of thing. Trust me.

It was win or lose. In a moment she
sighed and Bax saw that he had won again.

* * * *

Twenty-seven

The
first planning session in Melbourne was set for five oclock on Monday
afternoon. The Outfit had a town-house on permanent lease in a building on the
fringe of the city. To get to it Wyatt and Jardine walked across Treasury
Gardens from the Parliament underground railway station. The walk across the
park was Jardines idea. Its been years, he said, turning his face to take
in leaf canopies and shafts of sunlight. He pointed to trees and named them.
Wyatt went along with it, making assenting noises in the right places,
automatically watching for a tail.

Florida, Jardine said, as they
waited to cross the road. He meant the Outfit building, its low lines, jagged
roof-line, green facade, blue doors and window frames. Blue U-shaped pipes had
been bolted to various parts of the walls; larger blue pipes were ranged along
the footpath like candy hitching rails. They served no useful purpose. Like
something out of Miami Vice, Jardine said. Wyatt had no idea what he was
talking about.

They paused outside the front door
of the building. It was the sort of place that employed doormen between 7 am
and midnight. Wyatt pressed a buzzer and watched a man in an ill-fitting
uniform put his face to a microphone. A speaker scratched into life near the
buzzer. Help you gents?

Were here to see Mr Towns, Wyatt
said. Second floor.

The doorman ran his finger down a
page. Wyatt saw the mans lips move, saw him nod, and a second later the
electric lock disengaged and they were in.

They took the elevator. It opened on
to a short hallway. There was only one door. Wyatt knocked and Towns showed
them into a long, low room thickly carpeted and painted in shades of yellow.
There were black leather armchairs and two other men unfolded from them as
Wyatt and Jardine stepped into the room.

Wyatt knew Towns, knew how the man
thought, so he ignored him. He didnt know the other two. He gauged each one
carefully. The younger man, introduced by Towns as Drew, wore a black,
grey-flecked suit, grey shirt and red bow tie. He was about thirty, almost
bald, and Wyatt thought he had the soft hands and hungry face of a man used to
working white-collar scams. Drew is our accountant, Towns said, as if to confirm
Wyatts guess.

The other man belonged on the grimy
streets. He might have been the brother of the bodybuilder who had tried to
stop Wyatt in the Carlton alley. About twenty-five, big jawed, his hair tight
and black, he was an impassive man with plenty of strength and grace about
himand menace. This is Hami, Towns said. He didnt say what Hami did. New
Zealand muscle, Wyatt thought, letting the big man squeeze his hand, throw him
a challenge.

Sit down, Towns said. Coffees
almost ready.

Wyatt thought about the Outfit
lineup. Towns would do the negotiating with the Mesics; Drew would look at
their accounting; Hami would provide the muscle if it came to that. Just you
three?

The man called Drew said, Think we
need more?

It was a nasally voice riddled with
sullenness, so Wyatt took another long look at him. Drew had a face driven by
ambition and petty resentments. Perhaps he wanted to be where Towns was, but
Towns was smart and would live a long time.

Wyatt said, I dont want you springing
fresh faces on me over the next few days, thats all.

Just us, Towns said.

But the man called Drew wasnt
satisfied. What about you? I dont exactly see a commando team here. You mean
to tell me you and your mate are going in alone?

We dont need an army, Wyatt said.

Wyatt had rules and he rarely took
on jobs that broke too many of them. Any job involving more than five people
was too messy. Any job set up by amateurs or strangers had too many question
marks hanging over it. Anything that smacked of Hollywood special effects he
left to the dreamers. And he rarely took a job on consignment. He preferred to
leave a place with money that went into his pocket and no one elses.

Just two of us, he said. Clean,
quick and silent.

Drew scoffed. Alarms, guards, dogs.

Ive seen where they live. Im
telling you I dont need an army.

What about equipment? I suppose you
want us to supply everything?

Just a bankroll, Jardine said. Someone
else is doing the shopping for us.

Towns interrupted. Drew, let him do
his job, okay? Well do ours.

The bald accountant shrugged. Sure.
Lets hear what the expert has to say.

Wyatt knew that he had to keep Drew
happy. He had to keep them all happy. He nodded gratefully at Towns and began
to describe the job, letting his gaze rest on everyone in turn, making them
feel a part of it.

The Mesic compound occupies a
couple of acres. There are two houses and a security fence. As far as I can
tell, there are no guards, no dogs, no servants, just the two Mesic brothers
and the wife of one of them.

Drew was looking at the floor and
shaking his head. Hami spoke for the first time. How are you getting in?

Good question, Wyatt said, looking
at him frankly. Id rather go in without a fussno alarms, no damage which
means through the front gate. But until we know their movements, we cant
decide that. Jardine and I will watch the place for the next few days, rotating
shifts, noting who goes where, and when, in which cars, noting when lights go
off and on and in which rooms, the usual thing. If possible well hijack one of
the cars and get in that way, which may mean going in a day or a few hours in
advance. If that doesnt work, well go through the fence somehow.

Thats their problem, Hami, not
ours, Drew said, giving Hami a look that said he was hired help and should
keep his trap shut.

Two houses? Towns said. How will
you find your way around?

I know where to get plans for the
property.

Okay, Drew said, suppose youre
in, no hassles. Where does that leave ussitting back until all the bloods
been spilt?

Towns said, There wont be any
blood.

Wyatt turned his attention to the
Outfit boss. Towns had the manner of an old-style professional, low key,
methodical. The voice was mild; there was no challenge, squaring off or warning
in it, no arrogance, just the facts.

In and out with a minimum of fuss,
Wyatt agreed. Well cuff the Mesics together in one room. Jardine will blow
the safe, well empty it and a few drawers, and clear out, leaving you the
Mesics. What you say or do to them is your business.

I dont trust you, Drew said. How
do we know you wont have their files, accounts, names and addresses under your
arm? He looked at Towns. We should go in with them.

Towns was clearly irritated with the
younger man. Our friends just want cash. If its a trap, if things go wrong in
some way, they cop the flack, not us. When we get the signal that its all
clear, we go in, knowing theyve done all the dirty work and taken most of the
risks. Okay?

What sort of signal?

Oh for Christs sake, Jardine
said, a light in a window, a flashing torch, a mobile phone, whatever you
like.

He can speak, can he? Drew sniped.

Towns put up a hand. Everyone
settle down.

Hami growled softly, Evening, when
theyre winding down for the day, had a few relaxing drinks.

Wyatt nodded. Yes. I dont want to
do it in daylight and risk being seen. I dont want to do it when theyre in
bed, spooked by strange noises. If theyre still up, still awake, noises in the
house wont bother them so much.

There was silence while they took
that in. Then Drew said, still finding holes, How are you getting there, how
are you getting away?

Well steal a government vehicle
from a depot, Jardine said. It wont be missed overnight, if at all, and it
wont look out of place on the street.

Drew looked at Wyatt. Sounds like
you boys have been holed up somewhere, putting your job together.

Wyatt nodded, knowing what was
coming next.

Can you give us an address, a
number? In case we need to get in touch?

Wyatt simply stared at the Outfits
paper shuffler. He was staying with Jardine in a small house in Northcote.
Jardine was a man who had uncles and cousins and it was a family that didnt ask
questions.

The silence lengthened, a stony
neutrality on Wyatts face. Finally Drew said, Suit yourself. Just dont mess
up afterwards, thats all. Anyone can plan a job, pull it
offits
avoiding the cops, keeping a low profile, where most crims come unstuck.

Youre forgetting one thing, Wyatt
said. Were robbing robbers this time. There wont be any cops. Its not cops
I have to worry about, its people like you.

* * * *

Twenty-eight

Napper
rolled off her and flung himself onto the carpet. Eileen had been with him
three times now and knew to expect nothing better. She poked his chest. I feel
cold.

Making a performance of it, he
rolled over onto his knees and turned on the heater. It was a narrow electric
thing with fake coals glowing in a fake grate. A smell of burning dust spread
through the room.

Id like a blanket, Eileen said.

Napper planted a smacking kiss on
her neck. For you, anything. He turned it into a song, crossing the room
naked and bulbous, singing, Anything at all, doo doo doo, anything at all. At
least he was singing now. When he let her in the door an hour ago hed been
tense and snappy with her, as if something had been getting to him.

The blanket he returned with was
crusted with stains she didnt want to think about. Her skin cringed, but
rather than offend him she drew it around her shoulders and sat cross-legged
looking into his cheap, nasty fire. Whats the story on Niall? Hes been in
five days now.

Yes, thanks Mrs R, the sex was
fantastic for me too.

Dont be sarcastic. Just tell me.

These things take time, Eileen.

Its all been one-way so far,
Napper. Ive given you Wyatt, youve had three fucks off me, and for what? I
want my boy out.

Napper hefted her left breast in one
hand. Perfection. Look, whats your rush? You werent exactly complaining just
now.

Inside, shed been cringing just
now. Im not expecting miracles, Id just like some idea.

Napper grinned at her, got up, and
crossed the room again. As she watched, he lowered his white behind and
dangling genitals into the squashy vinyl beanbag chair, the sight and sound of
it carnal and ripe, and flipped open the clasps of a cheap briefcase. He
removed a folded document, waved it at her, and rolled sideways out of the
clammy embrace of the chair. When he came back he stood and probed her shoulder
with a knee. She looked up, the pungent centre of him just centimetres from her
face, and took the document. Release notice, Napper said, the knee pressed
hard against her. Just waiting for my signature.

Eileen drew her shoulders in and
leaned over the stapled sheets. Niall was committed for trial early in the new
year; meanwhile, though, he would be released on bail. She muttered.

Sorry? Didnt quite catch that?

Thanks.

Napper slithered down under the
blanket with her. She wondered why it always had to be the floor. Maybe the bed
was sacred for his girlfriend. Maybe the floor was dirt, she was dirt, and he
liked to wallow now and then. After a while he wanted to see what she looked
like from behind. She got on to her hands and knees, drawing comfort from the
sensation of her large belly and breasts swinging free beneath her, and let him
peer and poke. She blamed Ross for all this. Hed made no effort to help their
son. Youre a good-looking woman, Napper said as he began to thump against
her.

Eileen knew that Niall had a second
crossbow hidden away in his room somewhere. God, shed give anything to shoot
Napper with it, right this minute. When the fat policeman was finished with her
she huddled, leaking, under the blanket before the fire while he plugged in the
electric kettle. He came back with two cups of weak Maxwell House. So Wyatt
was worth trading my son for? she said.

Napper got a kick out of talking
police work. His mouth became a thin slash in his heavy face. Did some
homework on him.

And?

Its mostly rumour, hes never been
caught, but hes hard all right.

I told you that. What did you learn
about him?

Napper started to count on his
fingers. They were short, blunt fingers, the nails bitten back to the quick. One,
hes an old-style crim. He specialises in armed robbery. Two, he puts a team
together for each job, he doesnt work for anybody. Three, apparently some
crowd in Sydney wants him dead, he poked his nose in where it wasnt welcome.
Sound pretty right so far?