4

Tasso was keen to start shaking the town that evening, so after a clean-up, a bite to eat and a few drinks at the hotel we headed out. Tasso wanted to go to White Pointer, which he said was the most popular nightclub in town. It still mightn’t be much: it was a small town.

White Pointer was a two-storey establishment on Hindley Street with a large neon shark’s fin mounted above it. The fin was white, and a couple of pulsing, blood red ripples ran across the outline just below the tip. Bert was driving, and we pulled up in a no-parking zone. There was the loud thump-thump of electronic music, and coloured lights flashed to get the waiting crowd in the mood. Dozens of young women and men were gathered on the pavement in a loose line-up, waiting to be admitted. Most of the girls were clutching purses and many were looking at their phones. All were wearing short skirts and some were wearing shorter skirts. There were girls wearing too much make-up, girls with piercings, and girls with tattoos in the smalls of their backs and halfway up their thighs and on the tops of their breasts and no doubt in other, slightly more private places.

There were plenty of lads about, too. Most seemed to be there for the party, full of laughter and energy, ready to dance and sweat and drink and dehydrate and slur words at the girls. But there was a group that looked like it might be there for other reasons, tough-guys wearing shirts with truncated sleeves so they could flash their engorged muscles at girls and rivals and cops, young men and not-so-young men with shorn heads and piercings and tattoos that flexed when their biceps flexed, observing the scene with volatile eyes.

Bert clicked on the hazards and stepped out of the car with a flourish that caught the attention of a couple of grinning youths.

‘Nice moves, old man,’ said one of them. Tasso had also climbed out and was admiring two girls standing next to the no-parking sign. They were holding hands.

‘Nice car,’ said one of them to Tasso.

‘Like to go for a drive?’ Tasso made a big gesture with his hand. They looked at each other and giggled.

‘You work quick,’ said one.

‘You boys are a bit old for us,’ said the other, but she was wearing a coy look that seemed to suggest that the age barrier was negotiable. Her legs disappeared into a short, black-and-white-striped dress with no shoulder straps. It was unclear how the dress was staying in position. The other girl was wearing a dress of a similar style, without the stripes. ‘We’re lining up to get into the club,’ said the girl in the stripes.

‘Well, let’s go into the club, then,’ said Tasso. Bert had been standing at a respectful distance and Tasso caught his eye. ‘Come in with us, Bert.’

‘I probably won’t, sir. Not really my scene.’

The girls laughed and looked at each other. ‘Nawt really my scene,’ mimicked the one in the striped dress. She had a confident mouth and cheeky eyes. She looked at Tasso. ‘He called you sir. How cute.’

‘I’ve told him not to do that. Be cute, I mean.’

‘Is he your chauffeur?’

‘I guess you could say so.’

‘Are you rich?’

‘Rich enough.’

‘I’m Juliana,’ said the stripy one. ‘And she’s Caitlin.’

‘Mr Tasso.’ A man was calling from the entrance of the nightclub. He wore a dinner jacket that fitted his chest like it would have fitted a fridge. A bow tie was stuck like a fridge-magnet to the top of his white shirt, and he didn’t appear to have a neck. ‘Mr Tasso.’ He was heading toward us, and the crowd made way for him like they’d make way for a runaway van. His arms didn’t want to hang vertically. ‘Mr Tasso, no need to wait back here. Come through.’ He had a small earpiece in his ear with a looped cable that disappeared into his shirt collar.

‘Hello, Tiny,’ said Tasso. ‘We’re happy out here with these lovely ladies.’

‘We don’t mind jumping the queue,’ said Juliana.

‘No, we don’t want to start a riot,’ said Tasso. He winked at her. ‘You could cause a riot, just with your legs.’ She beamed at him.

‘Suit yourself, Mr Tasso,’ said Tiny. He held his finger to his ear as if a message was coming in. It seemed to take a while to get through.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, and returned to his post. He spoke to a bloke in a better-fitting shirt, who looked at us and strolled over.

‘Tasso, good to see you again.’ He was a short, earnest man of about thirty with slicked-back black hair, a long chin and wild eyes. He had thick dark eyebrows that arched up and seemed to be asking a perpetual question, and a turned-down moustache as thick as his eyebrows that seemed to be answering in the negative. Tasso turned to me. ‘This is Peter Coy.’

‘Steve West,’ I said. Coy nodded and we shook hands. He had an intense stare and his eyeballs seem to move more than they should. He looked at the girls, but Tasso didn’t introduce them; I wondered if he had forgotten their names. There was a deep cackling noise that grew loud. Very loud. We turned to watch as a fleet of about twenty-five motorbikes cruised past, ridden by men clad in black leather with black helmets on their heads and club patches on their backs. I couldn’t see which club.

‘Mad Dogs,’ said Coy. He met my gaze again. ‘I used to be one.’

Judging from the noise, the Mad Dogs had done a U-turn and were on their way back again.

‘This could get interesting,’ said Coy, looking at Tasso. ‘Harlin and me are not so popular with the Dogs these days.’ Tasso didn’t seem to care much about Coy’s popularity. The bikes didn’t stop; they cruised past on the other side of the road, their riders not even looking in our direction. Soon the racket had faded.

‘Harlin will be along soon,’ said Coy.

‘Good,’ said Tasso. ‘I want a word.’ Coy went into the nightclub.

‘I don’t like him,’ said Juliana. ‘He’s got a creepy moustache.’ She looked around, furtively, and opened her purse. She extracted a small packet. Inside were two fat, round, colourless pills about the diameter of Tiny’s earpiece. A picture of a butterfly was engraved in the surface of both. Juliana handed one to Caitlin and looked at Tasso. ‘Sorry, I only have two.’

‘That’s okay. I don’t use them.’ She shrugged and popped the pill in her mouth and took a swig from her water bottle. Caitlin waited for the bottle and then did the same.

‘You’re not cops, are you?’ said Juliana. She giggled. ‘You don’t look like a cop,’ she said to Tasso. ‘You do a bit,’ she said to me.

Tasso laughed. ‘Hear that, Steve? You look like a cop.’

The attention of the two girls drifted; they began chatting with other girls in the queue. The queue shuffled forward.

Tasso said to me, ‘I can’t get it up if I take ecstasy.’

‘That’s more information than I need, Tasso.’

He nodded at the crowd. ‘Half these people are probably on E now and the other half are on speed or alcohol or both. Hiskey knew the drug scene in Adelaide like he knew the veins on his own forearm. White Pointer is a distribution hub. When you met Coy you met Mr Big’s right-hand man.’ He gestured at the neon shark’s fin. ‘This place is owned by a guy called Harlin, who also runs the city’s drug trade. Not a great fan of drugs myself, but I don’t care. Everyone needs a prop.’

‘Everyone needs to make a stand, too, remember?’

‘That’s right. Make a stand, propped up.’

‘What’s your prop?’

‘Sex.’

‘I should have known.’

‘And booze.’

‘Everyone needs two props.’

‘Drugs are as common as bat shit these days.’

‘Do the cops know about this place?’

‘Yeah, of course they do. Every now and then they’ll bust a couple of kids here, but they haven’t been able to touch Harlin. He’s a smart guy.’

Juliana and Caitlin were starting to look at peace with the world. Tasso was watching them.

‘Young,’ I said.

He tore his eyes away. ‘They’d be eighteen or nineteen.’

‘Not much less than half your age.’

He grinned. He was showing no ill effects from the beer we had drunk on the boat. In fact he looked to be in rude health, the sunburn he had acquired on the boat giving his face richness, almost a glow. He was ready for a big night.

‘Why Fern, Tasso? You like women. Young women. Young, skinny women, just above the legal age. You have fun, you move on. Fern doesn’t fit the pattern.’

He shrugged, and for a moment he had a look I might have called innocent if I hadn’t known him better. ‘It’s complicated.’

A black Merc pulled up at the curb and a woman emerged from the passenger side. She was of Asian appearance, possibly Chinese. She was wearing a conservative black dress and high heels and not much expression. Her eyes met mine and held for a moment, and her mouth moved in what could have been a micro-smile. The driver’s door opened and a man emerged and she lost the smile, if that was what it was, and looked away. The man zapped the car to lock it and touched the woman on the arm as he walked her to the entrance of the club. He spoke to Tiny and then to the woman, who nodded and entered the club on her own. Then he turned and walked towards us.

‘Hello, Harlin,’ said Tasso. He stepped away from the girls.

‘I was real sorry to read about Hiskey,’ said Harlin, taking Tasso’s hand in a shake that was almost absent-minded. ‘He was a good man.’ He had a gentle voice, almost a whisper. He looked at me and Tasso introduced us. He offered his hand to me in the same off-hand way, and I shook it. It was difficult to get a read on his eyes; they were hard but not empty. The tough-guys who had been standing around had moved closer to us.

‘He owed you money,’ said Tasso. ‘I bet you’re sorry he’s dead.’

Harlin’s face was very still. ‘He owed me a little.’

‘I heard it was plenty.’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘Hiskey told me all about your drug empire.’

Harlin’s hands closed, slowly, until they were fists. He looked left and right in a measured way and stepped in very close to Tasso, who didn’t move. The neon sign pulsed red. ‘Jesus, Tasso, you take a chance.’

‘Is it true?’

Harlin swallowed, and his Adam’s apple jerked up and down under his skin, sharp as a knife. ‘Hiskey was a friend of mine,’ he said. ‘But he was a fucken liar, and he didn’t repay his debts.’ His voice had risen. ‘You shouldn’t believe anything he told you.’ He stepped back. He took a couple of breaths. He grinned. It was a tense grin. ‘Come on, Tasso. Relax. It’s Friday night.’ He patted Tasso’s arm.

‘It was bad luck for you that Hiskey was murdered,’ said Tasso.

‘How’s that?’

‘He was about to come into money. Lots of money. He could have paid you what he owed.’ For a moment a look that might have been knowing passed across Harlin’s face, but it was gone before I could be sure. ‘That is bad luck,’ he said. Then he shrugged and gestured towards the entrance of White Pointer. ‘Have fun. My club is yours.’ He nodded to Tiny, who was still manning the door. ‘Look after them,’ he called.

‘Sure,’ said Tiny, but there was no smile.