19

Next morning I walked into Tasso’s office, closed the door and went to switch on Goldsworthy’s jammer, but it was already on.

‘What’s up? You look serious.’ Tasso was behind his desk, writing something longhand on a cheap notepad. He put his pen down.

‘I want to see it,’ I said.

‘See what?’

‘The honeyhole.’

Tasso grinned. ‘I think we need another code word. My mind always wanders when you say honeyhole.’

‘Do we even need a code word now? Everyone seems to know about it.’

‘You’re probably right.’

‘Why don’t we just call it Ecstasy Lake? Like Hiskey wanted.’

‘Sure.’

‘I want to go up there.’

‘Why?’

‘So I can do this application properly. I just want to see what it is I’m writing about. I need to see the site.’

‘I’ll arrange it.’

‘Good.’

‘We’ll go tomorrow.’

‘Alright.’

Tasso called Fern and asked her to book us a plane and to phone ahead to Parakilla.

‘There’s only one hotel,’ he said to me. ‘When I went up there with Hiskey I spent more money in one night than they’d seen in a year. For entertainment we watched the dust blow down the main street. There were sheets of iron flapping in the wind and nobody there to give a damn. Things aren’t great in Parakilla.’

‘It’s on the cusp of a mining boom, though.’

Tasso laughed. ‘You ought to be a politician, Steve.’

‘So goldmining hasn’t revived the place?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Challenger’s a fair-sized mine, but it’s too far away. The workers just fly in from Adelaide or Sydney or Perth and fly out when they’ve done their roster. They don’t drive to Parakilla. Why would they? Anyway, you’ll see for yourself.’

I told him about my encounter with Sonia the previous evening.

‘She’s a piece of work,’ said Tasso. ‘And you were right.’

‘About?’

‘Telling her I’d tell her to go to hell. I will never do a deal with her.’

‘She could be dangerous.’

‘Do you think I’m scared of her?’

‘No.’

‘Do you think she’s smarter than me?’

‘No. She might be more cunning, though.’

Tasso had been scrutinising my face as we talked.

‘You okay?’

‘Sure.’

‘You seem pensive.’

‘No, I’m fine.’ I made an effort to de-pensify my face.

‘You need to get laid.’

‘Getting laid is not the answer to every problem.’

‘Isn’t it?’ To Tasso this seemed a radical idea. ‘Maybe it doesn’t solve every problem, but at least it takes your mind off them. It releases tension. I find if I go more than a week without a screw I get irritable.’

‘I think there’s a medical term for that. Irritable dick syndrome. IDS.’

‘How long since you had a good screw, Steve? Let’s go hunting tonight. Fern’s staying at her parents’ place for a couple of nights. I need to get laid, too.’

I looked at the jammer. ‘Thank god we’ve got that thing. You might be in trouble, otherwise.’

Tasso laughed for a third time. He didn’t seem irritable. ‘The thought had occurred to me. Maybe she helped herself to Goldsworthy’s bag of goodies the other day. I’d better watch myself.’

Late in the afternoon my cell phone rang. It was Melody.

‘Are you angry with me?’

‘Not really.’

‘You know I had to be like that at Harlin’s place. He might have killed you.’

‘I can take care of myself.’

‘No you can’t.’

‘What do you want, Melody?’

‘Meet me.’

‘Alright.’

‘Oh, that was easy.’ She giggled. ‘Much easier than I thought it would be.’

‘Where?’

‘Same place. Eight o’clock.’

‘Alright.’

‘And cheer up. Don’t be gloomy.’

‘I’m not gloomy, just irritable.’ IDS, I thought to myself when I hung up. I had it. I called Tasso to tell him I was standing him up. He didn’t mind; he could hunt just as well, or better, without me. We arranged to meet at his hotel at five the next morning, and Bert would drive us to Parafield Airport.

The Mexican restaurant was less than half full. I chose a booth as far as possible from other diners and waited. The little ordering flag was at half-mast. I picked out a pencil from the box and started filling in an order for two margaritas. She arrived in jeans with her black hair tied up and her skin pale. As soon as our eyes met I knew I was in trouble because I wanted her tonight and there would be no more inhibitions. I shuffled out of the booth and kissed her cheek.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes.’ I held her by the shoulders for a moment.

‘Let’s sit down.’

‘Alright.’ We sat in the booth.

‘You do understand why I was like that at Harlin’s, don’t you?’

‘Sure.’

‘I didn’t like it. But he had already hit you. It could have got worse. Your poor nose. Does it hurt?’

‘Do you think he believed you?’

‘I think Harlin is the most suspicious, jealous guy in the world. I don’t think he believes anything I say.’

‘But he’s obsessed by you.’

‘No, I don’t think so. Not obsessed. He just wants to own me. He doesn’t love me.’

I finished the order and raised the flag. The waitress was in no great hurry tonight.

‘You seem different,’ she said. ‘Something’s changed.’

‘Maybe.’ There was a moment of silence. I think we both knew what had changed and were thinking about what it meant. We stared into each other’s eyes. Then hers were diverted; they looked past me and widened.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ she said.

I looked behind me. Harlin was striding towards our booth. Behind him came Numbat and Tiny. I tried to stand, but Tiny shoved me back.

‘You fucken slut.’ Harlin was looking only at Melody. ‘You fucken slut whore bitch cunt.’ He hit her, an open-handed slap that made a sound like a rifle shot across a canyon. He grabbed her by her tied-up hair. It became untied. He yanked her out of the booth and dragged her by the hair toward the door. She was screaming, trying to keep her feet. She fell, but he kept dragging her. I tried again to stand, but Tiny punched me in the side of the head. Harlin dragged Melody outside, smashing her against the doorframe as he did.

‘He warned you,’ Tiny said to me. ‘You stupid dick.’

I was still holding the pencil I’d used to write out the drinks order. Tiny was standing with his leg thrust towards me like a fighter. He was snarling when he should have been thinking. His hit had knocked me sideways and I sat up slowly. I straightened my arm and swung it hard, driving the pencil point-first through Tiny’s jeans into the fleshy inner part of his thigh. It went in deep. I thought I felt it hit bone and I jerked it down, snapping the end of it. Tiny screamed. It wasn’t a tiny scream. His hand went to his thigh, but the pencil had disappeared into the flesh. He staggered away. Numbat didn’t know what had happened, and he stared at Tiny just a little too long. I picked up the flag, stood, and smashed the base of the stand into the side of Numbat’s head as it turned my way. The base was only plastic but it was solid enough and it connected hard with his temple. His eyes rolled back, and he fell. Tiny was still screaming, but Numbat was out cold. By the time I reached the car park, Harlin and Melody were gone.