What then?'
I explained about being pressured by the Tanners without saying much about what had taken me to Bathurst. I told her I'd seen Pete McKnight.
Pete keeps himself informed,' I said, and when I said I needed a counterweight to Hector and Joseph he just stressed Jobe's name.'
How do you interpret that?'
One, that there's friction between father and sons and I'd already got a whiff of that. Two, that he believes Jobe is what he's always been. That suggests your secret is safe.'
Mmm, maybe. I really need this coffee, then you can tell me what you want me to do.'
She made the coffee, warmed some croissants and we sat at the kitchen table. She was still anxious and I could understand why. If word got out that Jobe was talking there would be some very nervous and nasty people around. I was undecided about what to ask her. The last thing I wanted to do was add to her anxiety.
I suppose I was going to ask if you knew anyone who knows him and could help get me to see him, but now
I'll think about it. How long can you stick around?'
Not long. I'm supposed to see the guy I went to Bathurst to see pretty soon.'
You haven't said much about him. Should I know more?'
Just this-the Tanner brothers are hoping to make some kind of big score with him when he gets out. Do you know of anything that might fit that picture-a drug shipment, a big robbery take unaccounted for, a scam that needs a finishing touch?'
I'll think about that as well. Are you looking for a connection between the Tanners' interest in the guy in prison and your client's interest in him?'
I can't see how there could be. Boil it all down and the events are separated by over a century. But I have to consider the possibility.'
We fixed on where and when we'd meet later and left the flat together. Marisha drove off in her Subaru without telling me where she was going or asking me what I was going to do. She kissed me goodbye, but a lot of the heat had gone out of things on her part. It couldn't be helped; she was involved in something delicate and dangerous and I'd blundered into it. She had to decide whether helping me was worth the risk. That meant weighing a lot of work against something very new and maybe ephemeral. The odds were against me.
I located a swimming pool with a gym attached and spent the morning working out and struggling through twenty laps.
I was walking to my car, thinking about lunch, when my mobile rang. Wakefield. I realised I hadn't contacted him after my meeting with Twizell.
Hardy.'
I thought I'd have heard from you before this.'
.I'm sorry, things got complicated.'
Complicated how? Did you put my questions to him?'
Yes, and I'm sure he knows something, but he's bargaining with us. He wants you to use your influence to ... help him at his parole hearing.'
A pause, then an impatient grunt. Well, tell him I will.'
I think he'll want something more concrete.'
That'll take time.'
That's what he's got.'
Are you trying to be funny?'
No, and my sources were right, the Tanners are keeping a close eye on him and they're putting pressure on me.'
To do what, kill him?'
I laughed. No, it's not clear what they have in mind. I'm in Newcastle trying to find out.'
You're where? You're supposed to be in Bathurst.'
As I said, it's complicated.'
Hardy, if you're trying to string this out...'
Listen, Professor, some very nasty people have threatened me and my family. I take exception to that and I'm trying to deal with it, but it's connected somehow to Twizell. I'm dealing with different parts of one thing here, I think.'
Something about my tone of voice must have made an impact. I could almost see him moving the phone away from his ear, backing off. When he spoke again his voice was placatory.
I'm sorry. I have faith in you. When do you see Twizell again and what exactly does he want?'
I told him and he said he'd try to pull some strings. I said I'd call him after tomorrow's meeting with Twizell and that was it. He'd shown no interest in my statement about a threat. I opened the car door and froze when I saw another little foil package sitting on the seat. I took a tissue from my pocket, used it to pick up the foil, blew my nose on the tissue and went to the nearest rubbish bin to drop it in.
I got in the car and began to worry. No surprise that the Tanners had reach in Newcastle, but how did they know I was there? And if they'd picked me up yesterday, had they tracked me to Marisha's place? If that wasn't enough to worry about, I could always turn my attention to Wakefield. He seemed indifferent to the Tanners. Was that just single-mindedness, or did he know more about the Tanners and the state of things in Newcastle than he was letting on?
I didn't feel like eating but I had to fill in the time somehow and I thought I'd go back to the place where I'd had dinner the night before. I was a few blocks away from it when a police car cruised up and waved me into the kerb. One of the uniforms got out while the other sat with his radio phone at the ready. I wound down the window and put my hands in clear view on the wheel.
Could I see some ID, please, sir.'
I showed him my driver's and PIA licences.
I'll have to ask you to accompany us to the station.'
Why?'
I'm sure they'll tell you when you get there. Are you going to cooperate?'
Can I follow you?'
We'd prefer that you didn't.'
They do that. Sometimes it's because they want to look the car over, sometimes because, in this day and age, a man without a car is just that much more vulnerable. Hard to tell which in this case. He stepped back as I opened the door and rewound the window. You lock this model Falcon with the key. I was about to do that when he stopped me.
I'll take the keys. Someone'll collect the vehicle.'
They were interested in the car.
Newcastle police station was on Watt Street, not far from the harbour in one direction and the ocean in the other. There were other institutional buildings nearby, like the Anglican cathedral and a hospital. The building had the unimaginative, solid lines common to most police stations. The detectives' room, to which one of the uniforms took me after doing some business at the front desk, was tidy, unlike some, and dominated by clicking computer keys, like most.
The uniform conducted me to a corner of the room where a man sat at a desk with his hands folded, watching our approach.
Detective Inspector, this is Cliff Hardy.'
Right. Any trouble?'
No, strikes me he's done this before.'
I bet. Okay, thanks, Bill. Have a seat... Mr Hardy. I'm Kerry Watson.'
I nodded and sat. He was fortyish, red-haired and freckled, a little overweight in a dark blue shirt that was a bit too tight. He looked tired; his desk was covered with files and sheets of printout and there were post-it notes stuck here and there on the shelves. If I'd had to deal with all that I'd be tired too.
When did you arrive in Newcastle?'
Why am I here?'
Let's get a few things sorted and I'll tell you. You're licensed for a firearm. Where is it?'
In my car.'
I'm not sure that's legal.'
It's unloaded and secure. Your boys'll find it if they're any good.'
They're good.'
That's one thing then, what else?'
What's your business here?'
You know better than that. My business is my business.'
He shook his head and a few dandruff flakes dropped onto his shoulders. Not really. It's customary for people in your ... line of work to check in with us when you arrive. You didn't.'
Customary doesn't mean you always have to do it. I wasn't planning to stay long.'
How long?'
I shrugged. Depends.'
He took a notebook from the pocket of his jacket hanging over the back of the chair, turned a few pages. You paid a call to Peter Wilson McKnight.'
That's right. Can we stop this? What's going on?'
McKnight was found dead in his office this morning. He'd been shot through the head.'
9
Watson watched closely for my reaction and I didn't have to pretend to be shocked. He sighed and flicked through his notebook.
Your car was spotted in the parking bay of McKnight's building at 6pm.'
Right, and I left about thirty minutes later.'
Can you prove it?'
I went straight to a restaurant in Market Street and would've been there before seven. I've got the bill.'
He nodded. For your expenses.'
Yeah.'
Must be nice.'
When was Pete killed?'
Pete? You were good friends?'
Not really. He was always Pete, the way Pete Sampras is Pete.'
Who? Oh yeah, the tennis player. Before Federer. He was killed around 10pm. Where were you then?'
With a friend.'
Name?'
Not unless I have to. You don't really think I killed him, do you?'
No, but it might be helpful for you to tell us what you wanted to see him about.'
I don't think so.'
He's no loss, anyway. Did you know McKnight was a bagman for the Tanners?'
No.'
You're surprised?'
I haven't seen him for quite a few years. People change.'
For the worse in his case. When his wife left he got on the piss, started gambling, got in deep with the loan sharks. One thing led to another.'
He didn't look particularly prosperous.'
No, the Tanners probably bought him by paying off his debts or putting them on hold. They like to control people on the cheap. That's their speciality.'
He wasn't telling me much I didn't know apart from the information about Pete. He put a few more questions to me which I deflected. His heart wasn't in it. When an ex-cop-turned-private-detective forms an alliance, however reluctantly, with criminals, you have a recipe for trouble. Pete's killer would have to be looked for in a dozen different directions and the police didn't have the time or the motivation. When Watson took a phone call, responding in a series of grunts, my interview was over.