WE WENT OUTSIDE, GATHERED by the cars.
‘Stonehouse,’ I said to Meg. ‘Anybody out there?’
‘Yuwayi. Kitty. Japanangka. Mister Watson. Them Crankshaft boys, Benny and Bernie.’
‘Might be best if you went and waited out there yourselves.’
‘But Danny…’
‘I’ll contact Legal Aid first thing in the morning. Try to get him out.’ Jojo raised an inquisitive brow and I explained, ‘It’d help if he knew you were out there, waiting.’
‘Them kurlupartu let him go free?’
‘Sure they will. You mob go home now, get some sleep. I’ll look out for him.’
It took some persuading, but Magpie and Meg eventually climbed aboard their low-slung motor and drove away.
‘Was that wise?’ asked Jojo.
‘For them it was. I want them out of the way.’
‘This isn’t some minor infringement—they’re saying he killed someone. No way is he going to get bail.’
‘Who said anything about bail?’ He tilted his head, narrowed his gaze. ‘Jojo, I need a huge favour.’
He groaned to himself. ‘You’re not…?’
‘Distract Griffo.’
‘You are.’ He looked to the heavens and rubbed madly at his beard. ‘I bloody knew it. Soon as I saw you coming out of the cell, I knew you were up to something.’
‘Just for a minute.’
‘Emily, do you have any idea what you’re suggesting? How many laws you’re about to break?’ He raised his arms in despair, managed to look like a turkey taking off. ‘Ah, for god’s sake, why do I even…? Course you…’
I put up a hand. ‘Wireless.’
He stopped dead. Looked back wearily at the station.
He knew its history as well as I did. The ghosts that had seeped into its woodwork, the improvised nooses, the slipped-while-resisting-arrests. He was a whitefeller, but still. He’d spent a lot of his life running round with our mob.
And he was a good man. Somewhere inside, he would have been asking the same question I was, the question Danny’s father had asked: how long would the boy last in that black hole? Before he went the same way as Wireless?
For me of course there was no choice. I’d made a promise.
‘Christ,’ sighed Jojo, shaking his head.
‘Park round the back lane.’
‘Nothing’s ever simple when you’re around.’
‘I don’t make these things happen.’
He looked like he was about to argue the point. Then changed tack. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No you’re not.’
‘Yes I…’
‘Listen, Jojo. Darling. I’d love you to come along, but there’s absolutely nothing to be gained by both of us getting in the shit. And frankly—black chick raped in the line of duty, just out of hospital, off balance—what sort of a slap on the wrist am I gonna get?’ I saw the questions forming in his eyes. ‘But you, you’re a public servant; you’ll lose your job. All your work will go to the dogs—and to the fucking foxes, more to the point: think of all your bilbies. Plus I need you here; you can contact Legal Aid, deal with the police. I’ll bring him in, but only if it’s to hospital. I’ll be in touch.’
‘How?’ he asked. I knew I’d won.
‘Radio? Pigeon? Smoke signals? I dunno—I’ll work something out.’
‘Where’ll you go?’
‘Out to Stonehouse, if we get that far. And if this does go pear-shaped…’
‘Pear? It’s already gone the full bloody watermelon!’
‘…I’ll need somebody not in the slammer to keep my spirits and tobacco up. Now what have you got lined up for Griffo?’
He put a finger under his chin, sniffed the air, scanned the dim silhouette of the trees that lined the dry creek bed, thinking hard.
‘Gimme fifteen minutes.’
It took fourteen.
I walked around to the alleyway, found a spot that afforded an excellent view of the station, waited among the shadows.
‘Come on, Jojo, pull your finger out,’ I muttered, fearful of Cockburn and crew returning before he did.
I sighed with relief when the Hilux rounded the corner and came schlepping down the alleyway.
I stepped out of the shadows. ‘All okay?’
‘No worries. Chucked in a bit of food, filled your water bottle.’
I peered at the station. All quiet.
‘How long will it take?’
‘They don’t put out a timetable.’ He must have spotted my frown in the dark. ‘Not very, I don’t think.’
‘You better bugger off then. Wander up to the BP, grab a bite to eat.’
‘I’m so not thinking about food right now.’
‘Me neither. Thinking alibis and CCTV.’
I gave him the kiss he had coming, sent him on his way. ‘See you soon, Jojo.’
‘Bloody hope so.’
‘Give my love to Hazel.’
‘Will do.’
‘What did you use?’ I called out as he sauntered off down the alleyway.
‘Ropalidia romandi.’
‘What?’
‘Paper wasps.’
He was barely out of sight when a strangulated oath came from deep within the bowels of the station, closely followed by another.
And another: ‘Aaaow fuckin Jesus fuck fuck owww Christ…’
I heard the front door slam. A burly figure came stampeding out onto the lawn with a surprising grace—more grace than it ever showed on the basketball court—whipped off a shirt, lowered a pair of pants, began slapping and swatting its considerable length and breadth.
I nipped over the fence, disabled the alarm on the back entrance—they’d trusted me with that one—slipped into the building, punched in the pin number I’d noted Griffo using earlier, withdrew the key.
Danny inhaled sharply when I opened the door, exhaled with relief when he saw it was me.
‘You still want out of here, Danny?’
‘Oh, I have to.’
‘Stonehouse?’
He clutched my hand. ‘Anywhere but here…’
I locked the door behind us, replaced the key—the longer we concealed our flight, the better.
We were in the car in one minute, on the road in two.