Pete’s office was in a block on the site of a building more or less demolished by the 1989 earthquake. The facade had been preserved. It was well situated but modest, suggesting that Pete was making a living but not getting rich. He was an ex-policeman, invalided out with a pension after being shot. He was ten years younger than me but looked every day of his age. He got slowly and stiffly to his feet as I came into his office.
‘How’s it going, Pete?’ I said.
‘Up and down. You?’
‘Okay.’
I sat and we exchanged small talk for a minute or two. Pete’s hair was thinning as his body thickened. I knew that he was divorced and that his wife had taken the two children interstate. There were signs of work being done in the office but not a lot. The last time we spoke, Pete had told me he missed the bustle of police life but was still heavily dependent on the force for the jobs they threw his way. He’d had some funny stories back then, but he was much less chatty now.
‘I’ve run up against the Tanners,’ I said. ‘Hector and Joseph.’
‘Be thankful it wasn’t Jobe.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind. Joseph’s not much, but Hector’s got something about him. Would you agree?’
He grunted but didn’t say anything. For what seemed like the hundredth time I sketched the job I was on, the message I was supposed to deliver and the threat that came with it.
‘Couple of questions,’ I said. ‘Do they have the resources to plant coke the way they say—the supply, contacts in Sydney, good break-in people?’
Pete nodded. ‘They do.’
‘I need some leverage against them.’
‘Why not just do what they say? No skin off your nose.’
I didn’t answer. He looked at me and sighed. ‘Of course— you’d reckon they’d own you.’
‘Something like that. Hector mentioned my daughter. That made a difference.’
‘Hardy the hero.’
‘Hardy the pissed-off. You’ve worked here a long time, Pete. You’ve got an in with the cops; you know the scene. You know the informers. Shit, operators like the Tanners’ve got as many enemies as friends, maybe more.’
‘That’s true and I’ve been one. But the smart thing to do is stay clear of them. What they’ve threatened you with is nothing compared to things they’ve done.’
‘Like?’
He shook his head. ‘You don’t want to know. I can’t help you. It’s a good thing you didn’t mention the Tanners when you rang. I wouldn’t have been here.’
‘That bad?’
‘That bad. In fact I’m worried about you coming here. You asked about contacts—they’ve got ‘em, all over.’
‘Jesus, Pete, you used—’
‘I used to have more balls.’
I got up. ‘I’m sorry.’
I wasn’t quite sure what I meant when I said that. I had a mixture of feelings. But Pete took it in the worst way. His sagging face went red and a tic started in his cheek. He knotted his hands together on the top of his desk to stop them from shaking.
‘You pity me, right? Fuck you.’
I moved towards the door. I heard him suck in a deep breath.
‘Cliff.’
I turned back.
‘Don’t say you weren’t warned.’
‘About who in particular?’
His troubled voice sank to a whisper. ‘About every one of the fuckers. They’re a volatile lot. I doubt that any one of them trusts the other.’
‘Not unusual in a crew like that.’
‘Yeah, but if anyone tells you Jobe’s a spent force, don’t believe it.’
‘Sounds as if you—’
‘Just an observer.’
My nod didn’t mean I believed him.
~ * ~
I’d thought my session with Pete would have taken longer. I thought he might have filled me in with some details about the Tanners, might even have taken me to meet a useful person or two. I didn’t anticipate that he’d be so reluctant to help. I was there so briefly I could’ve had dinner with Marisha but she’d have made other arrangements by now so I had time to kill.
I drove into the city centre. Newcastle wore a rundown look and I recalled reading that a plan to spend millions on a revamp had fallen through and that the money men, local authorities and the state government were still trying to thrash out a deal. It looked overdue; road markings were faded, the buildings were rust-stained from leaking guttering and everything seemed to need an injection of money and ideas.