The Dunbar Case(16)

I raised my eyebrows. Didn't say anything.



Judo,' Power said.



I rubbed my arm. It still hurts where he chopped me.'



Thought you said you were onside.'



As far as it went. What else can you tell me?'



Very tough, very bright.'



Incorruptible?'



Who is?'



Come on, Ted.'



It's hard to draw the line in that game. Undercover police sometimes have to do criminal things in the course of their duties.'



I know that, but there are rules about how far they can go and what restitution has to be made, right?'



Right.'



He drank, I drank. He stared out the window, then he cleared his throat. All I'll say is that he pushes the envelope, pretty much the same way you do in your business, Cliff.'



So you'd advise me to be careful in my dealings with him.'



He nodded.



There're no bugs here, Ted.'



He finished his drink and got up. He's done some very good work and I don't think he feels fully appreciated. Enough said.'



I saw him to the lift and went back into the office and topped up my drink. Pill time. I kept a corresponding supply at the office to those at home, some in the fridge. I squeezed them out of the foils into my palm and took them with a mouthful of scotch. Supplies were low. A chemist in Glebe had half a dozen of my prescriptions on file. Once, feeling resentful, I told him I'd thought of chucking all the stuff away and letting nature take its course.



You can't do that,' he said, I've got children to support.'



I smiled at the memory.







I did my usual Sydney things-paid bills, went to the gym, filled prescriptions, checked that Wakefield had deposited money. He had. Towards the end of my second day back I got a phone call. I didn't recognise the number.



Hardy.'



Hey, Cliff, this is Jack Twizell.'



Jack?'



Yeah, a new me. You did it, man. I'm out tomorrow and I'll be heading back to Newcastle.'



Congratulations.'



You bet. I want to buy you a drink to thank you.'



No need.'



And to talk about your proposition.'



I thought you said Kristie was the one to see about that.'



Two heads are better than one. Did you see her?'



Yes.'



Didn't get far, eh?'



He was riding high, cocky, about to be released and no doubt feeling that the threat from the Tanners was past. Couldn't blame him. I knew I'd have to deal with him but I wanted it to be on my terms as much as possible.



Only so far,' I said.



Look, I'm guessing, after all that shit with Jobe and Joseph, that she's not walking around in the sunshine, am I right?'



I had to niggle him. I had very ambiguous feelings about Johnnie/Jack. I didn't like him much, didn't trust him at all, but I needed him. He was a key player in the game. I wanted him confident and willing to help but not too confident, not feeling a sense of absolute independence. It's not hard to touch a nerve with someone in his position.



Yeah,' I said, on the loose, like Hector.'



It didn't work. He chuckled. Don't worry, Hector's in South America by now, or some such fuckin' place. Kristie's a home girl. I can find her. Why don't you come up to Newcastle? Meet me tomorrow and we can talk things over.'



I'd printed out my bank statement with Wakefield's substantial deposit ensuring my survival for another stretch of time. Money confers an obligation; not as big as love or friendship, but an obligation nevertheless. I said I'd see him. Jack had made his plans; he had a place to stay lined up. He gave me the address as if he was installed already and prepared to be hospitable.

 
 

  15





I drove to Newcastle, booked into a motel and phoned Kerry Watson.



You again,' he said.



I've got some business to do with John Twizell. You knew he was out?'



You bet I knew. He has to check in with us twice a week and report to his parole officer in Newcastle. I doubt he'll have time for anything else. What sort of business?'



It's nothing to do with the Tanners. It's family history.'



The family history's bad-his old man was a crook and Johnnie was lucky he didn't kill that girl. He was a smalltime crim himself. Don't tell me Bathurst rehabilitated him.'



I don't know and I don't care. What I'm interested in goes way back. I just thought I should let you know I was around, the way I'm supposed to do.'



Don't make me laugh, Hardy. You want something. Spit it out, I'm busy.'



My guess was he was always busy-one of those people- but if he had been busy he might know what I wanted to know.



Any news of Hector?'



Thought you said you weren't interested in the Tanners.'



I'm thinking about Marisha Henderson. You probably know by now she's working on a book and I don't imagine Hector wants it to see the light of day.'



Hector's got bigger problems.'



Why? I hear he had a big blue with Joseph. Probably very pissed off at having his father shot.'



He sighed. Hardy, you know more than you should and you're more fucking inquisitive than's good for you. I'm certainly not going to discuss operational police matters with you. But I'll tell you this-we don't know where Hector Tanner is and if you happen to stumble across him in your fucking around you'd better let us know at once.'



I won't be looking and I would. I've got a couple of other questions, not strictly related to what we've just been talking about.'



Have you now? You've got a bloody nerve. Do you know how much work I've got piled up here?'



I didn't say anything, didn't have to. A conscientious policeman like Watson can't suppress his curiosity.



Go on, then. Make it quick.'



What can you tell me about a cover-up of a couple of million dollars of stolen money?'



Nothing. It's just a rumour.'



How about a British backpacker missing in the Newcastle area?'



I'm not in Missing Persons.'



Could you ask around?'



What's in it for me?'



I don't know.'



Why doesn't that surprise me? I don't suppose you've got a name or a date.'



No.'



I don't know why I don't arrest you on suspicion of every fucking thing I can think of. Stay out of trouble.'



How many times had I heard that, and from people who thought better of me than Watson.







I met Twizell at a cafe attached to a squash club in Mayfield. He was wearing the appropriate clothes and glowed with cheerfulness and the virtue gained from hard exercise. He'd had his hair cut stylishly and looked years younger than he had in gaol.



Haven't played for yonks,' he said, but I jogged and did fifty push-ups a day in the slam and I've kept my fitness, more or less.'



I was tempted to suggest he might care to go caving but I resisted. That was something he didn't know I knew about and I was happy to leave it that way.



Good for you,' I said. Joined here, have you?'



Thinking about it. Not sure I'm staying in these parts.'



That spoke volumes. He had plans.



I'm having a decaf cap, what about you?'



Long black.'



Toxic.'



He got up and went to the counter to order. He swaggered, only word for it. He chatted to the barista and allowed her to see his sinewy arms and the biceps that stretched the short sleeves of his shirt. He came back with the coffee, wooden stirrers and a handful of sugar and artificial sweetener sachets. He poured two of the artificial sweeteners into his mug and stirred vigorously.



Now, to business,' he said. You want to see Granny's cottage, right?'



Don't play games with me, Johnnie-'



Jack.'



Don't play games. There's something I'm looking for. If you can help me find it, good. If not, just get on with your life and good luck to you.'



The affable manner vanished. Listen, I've spent hard time with other people calling all the shots. Well, that's over now and I'm taking charge of things, starting with my name and my health and my bloody future. I've got a clean slate. I don't owe anybody anything.'



His eyes were blazing and his knuckles were white as he gripped his mug. He was irrational, overreacting to a couple of mild remarks. A violent mood swing. It was a new factor to take into account and not a welcome one. I drank my coffee and didn't speak, allowing time for the storm to pass. He fiddled with the torn sachets as he struggled to get himself under control.



Okay, okay,' he said. Sorry, I'm still getting used to this.' He spread his arms and almost knocked over a child who was passing. He spun around and steadied the child, who yelled. A woman bustled up and knocked Twizell's hand away.



Don't you dare touch her.'



I was just. . . fuck you!'



The woman stalked away, pulling the still upset child behind her. Twizell slumped in his chair.



Take it easy,' I said. I know it's tough inside but outside's no picnic either. There's a hundred and one things to piss you off every day if you let them. Let's focus on something you can do. Is there any point in going to your grandparents' house?'



He sucked in a deep breath. He had gone pale and it took a little time for colour to return to his face. When he spoke his voice was thin and lacking his previous confident tone. I dunno. It was a tumbledown ruin last time I saw it. But I know there were lots of hiding places in it. Grandma used to hide things from Grandpa.'



What sort of things?'



Books and that. He used to get cranky about her reading all the time when he wanted her to be working in the vegie patch or bottling fruit and looking after him. He tore up some of her books once and she used to hide them from him.'



What else?'



Oh, papers and bills and stuff. He used to throw bills away but Grandma'd keep them and save up to pay them. He was an irresponsible old bugger.'