Chapter 43

Harry kept his eyes down as he exited the elevator, glancing up briefly to get his bearings. He ignored the nurses’ station, instead following the directions Dave had texted him.

Dave was waiting outside the room when Harry arrived. He looked scared, and he had good reason to be. Dave had taken Heathy to the wrong room, on the wrong floor.

‘Don’t be long,’ Dave said. ‘There’re cops downstairs. It won’t take them long to figure out he’s missing.’

Dave opened the door for Harry, then closed it behind him.

The room was dimly lit. There were a couple of chairs. A blank TV bolted to the wall. A window looking out on the northern suburbs. And Heathy, lying in his bed, white covers pulled up around him. His head was bandaged. His arms were lying on top of the covers, enclosed in beige pressure bandages. A heart-rate monitor bleeped at his side.

Harry grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. Heathy looked up. He was clearly expecting a nurse, or a doctor, or the cops.

‘What the…’

Harry pulled up the other chair, sat down. Opened his notebook.

‘What do you know about Rob and Kyla’s disappearance?’

‘Fuck you.’

This close, Harry could smell singed hair. Could see the blistering skin beside Heathy’s eye, causing the tear tattoo to bulge.

‘Okay,’ Harry said. ‘Here’s what I know. I know that you and Crow served with Andrew Cardinal in Afghanistan. I know that you took part in rape and mass murder while you were over there. I know that you helped Cardinal set up a drugs operation here. And that you brokered a deal with Brian Swenson to launder the money…’

Heathy grinned, then winced as the damaged skin pulled tight. He chuckled. ‘There’s a difference between knowing and proving, Harry. A big difference.’

Harry felt Rob trying to surge, but Harry needed information.

‘Where are the cops, Harry?’ Heathy said. Harry’s eyes darted to one side. Heathy’s grin grew, despite his burned and blistered lips. ‘Naughty, naughty. Your friend brought me to the wrong room, didn’t he?’

‘I know that you and Crow tried to wipe out all links to the operation when Cardinal decided to go straight. I know about the Black Hawk sabotage. The IED Crow planted. I know about Rabs. Ahmed. Rob and Kyla.’

Heathy reached over for the remote control and turned on the TV. Canned laughter issued forth. He laughed.

‘My lips are sealed, buddy,’ he said. He glanced at the TV, then back at Harry. ‘Did you have fun the other night? I said to Crow afterwards, we should have gone in with the knives earlier. Like Cardinal did with…’

Rob surged again, and this time Harry couldn’t hold him back. Harry leapt out of his chair, grabbed Heathy’s chin and squeezed. Heathy cried out. Harry leant over him.

‘Look! Look at me!’

Heathy looked. His eyes widened. The heart monitor beeped faster. Harry opened his shirt. ‘Look, you piece of shit.’

Harry showed off Rob’s tattoos. Heathy shook his head.

‘No. No-no-no!’

‘Yep.’

‘You’re dead. You’re fucking dead!’

Harry leant over the bed. Heathy struggled to free himself from the covers, but they were pulled too tight and he was too weak. He lashed out with his hand and Harry caught it. Squeezed. Leant forward with his other hand and shoved it against Heathy’s mouth, stifling the scream. He felt warm fluid seep over his fingers as the blisters burst.

‘Heathy. You’re going to tell me what I want to know.’

Harry grabbed his pen, pressed it against the side of Heathy’s eyeball. Held the bikie’s head steady with his other hand. Heathy was sweating now, his skin grey under the red burns. Harry pushed back. Rob retreated slightly.

‘It’s Rob,’ Harry said. ‘Believe it, Heathy. Tell him what he wants to know.’

Heathy panted, whimpered. ‘You know it all!’ he yelled. The pen jerked forwards, pressing deep under Heathy’s eyeball.

‘Shhhhhh,’ Harry said.

‘You know it all. Why do you need me to tell you? Those fuckers in Afghanistan. They deserved it, right? Blowing us up every day. Every fucking day. IEDs. RPGs. Having to live with that shit and for what? For what the ADF thought it was worth? Deployment allowance?

‘Bullshit. That’s bullshit. If we didn’t make money out of those poppies, they would’ve. More money for the Taliban. More money for the warlords.’

‘What about the kids? And rape? Did she deserve it?’

Heathy’s chest heaved. Tears flowed out of the corners of his eyes. ‘That was Cardinal,’ Heathy said, barely a whisper. ‘Cardinal. He’s fucking sick.’

‘And you let him do it?’

Heathy shrugged.

‘What about Vessel? How much does he know?’

Heathy’s eyes lost focus. He stared straight ahead. Outside, Dave was talking to someone. Harry couldn’t make out the words. Footsteps, heading away from the door.

Harry climbed onto the bed. He laid his knee against Heathy’s arm and pressed. Heathy groaned. His eyes rolled back in his head. Harry slapped his face.

‘What. About. Vessel?’

‘He’s…he’s like Cardinal’s controller. Keeps him on track.’ Heathy shook his head. ‘Helps him find an outlet for his…his urges.’

‘Urges?’

‘You know…like Kyla.’

Rob surged forward again, so hard that Harry almost blacked out. Harry grabbed Heathy’s hair through the bandages and squeezed. Shoved the pen sideways in Heathy’s mouth to muffle the scream.

‘What do you mean?’ He removed the pen.

‘Vessel sets up meetings. Women. Women who won’t be missed.’

Harry’s mind reeled. Outside, there was a commotion. Dave’s voice rose. This time, Harry could make out the words. He thrust his hand over Heathy’s mouth.

‘I’ve been told we could use this room!’

Someone mumbling.

‘Well, go and check it!’

Footsteps. A knock on the door. Harry was running out of time.

‘One last question, Heathy,’ he said.

Heathy’s eyes moved to the door. Harry pressed the pen against his eyeball again. ‘I swear to god, I will kill you if I have to.’

‘Okay,’ Heathy said. ‘Okay.’

‘Where’s the dossier?’

‘The what?’

‘The information. The stuff Rob had.’

Heathy laughed. Flinched as the pen stabbed towards his eye. ‘The dossier? You think I know? That’s why we came after you. After the old guy. Cardinal and Vessel think you’ve got it. They’re shitting themselves!’

Rob tried to surge again and Harry dragged himself away from the bed, groaning in frustration. If he stayed here any longer, he’d find himself up on murder charges.

Heathy shook his head. ‘You had it all mapped out, ya silly prick. All except the most important part! Watch ya back.’

Harry removed the chair from under the door handle, opened the door a crack, looked up and down the corridor. Dave had moved a few metres towards the nurses’ station, anticipating the return of whoever had rightful claim on the room. He looked back at Harry.

‘Go. Get the fuck outta here,’ Dave mouthed.

Harry slipped out of the room and down the corridor away from the nurses’ station, taking the fire exit to head downstairs.