Chapter 47

Harry and Christine sat at her kitchen table, laptops open. Jess looked over Harry’s shoulder. He was working on two articles, with Jess’s help. One about Rob and Kyla’s murder. The other about what happened in Afghanistan. Harry was flicking between his articles and several news sites for updates. Election-day polling booths were closed; votes were being counted. Pundits were still predicting a Labor whitewash. Harry hadn’t voted. He added it to the mental list of bad things he’d done lately, alongside almost assassinating Andrew Cardinal and demolishing a bikie clubhouse.

After the map revelation, Jess had suggested they write up what they already knew, even though they didn’t have access to the documents that would allow them to verify the story. If nothing else, it had helped the time pass faster in the lead-up to Saturday and eased the frustration of watching Vessel and Cardinal cavorting on national television, as it became clearer that nothing was going to stop them. Christine returned to work on Tuesday. Dave decided it would be too risky going back to the hospital, so had called in sick, as had Jess. Dave and Ellie were hanging out at the granny flat at Simmo’s place.

Christine was writing some pen pictures of Vessel, Cardinal and Swenson, and some other key players. She’d already managed to dig up Keith ‘Crow’ Crowther and Heath ‘Heathy’ Travill’s real names, and write a piece on their involvement with Dreadnorts MC.

Harry checked his watch. It was getting dark. Christine looked up. ‘Heard from Dave yet?’

‘No. I left a message on his phone. Maybe he’s had enough of the insanity.’

It was weird though. In spite of everything, Dave had been there for him. It seemed odd that at the critical moment he’d bug out. Harry picked up his phone for the umpteenth time to check he hadn’t missed a message somehow. He left his computer and went into the lounge room, checking the bag of gear they’d gathered for their water tower visit: torches, a rope ladder, crowbar.

‘Harry,’ Jess called out to him. ‘Your phone.’

She handed it to him. He looked at the screen. Relief ran through him.

‘Dave! Where…’

‘Not quite, Harry, although he is here with me. It’s Keith. You may know me as Crow. I’ll put Davey on.’

‘Harry?’ He was terrified.

‘Dave!’

Thunder boomed. The line crackled.

‘Harry. I’m sorry. I went home for my surfboard. Stupid…’

There was the crack of flesh on flesh, and then a muffled yell.

‘Dave? Dave!’

‘He’s okay,’ Crow said. ‘Just a love tap.’

‘He doesn’t know anything!’

‘We know he doesn’t, Harry. Me and Heathy were after you and when we saw this cunt rock up, we figured he owed us one.

‘Heathy told me all about what happened at the hospital. You reckon Rob’s inside you? Well, Rob knows where the documents are.’

‘If I knew where they were…’

‘Shut it! I want the documents, Harry. Don’t fuck me around. Do whatever mumbo-jumbo seance bullshit you need to do to get Rob to spill his guts. If you can’t, your mate’s gonna be spilling his. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’

Harry’s stomach rolled. The hairs stood up on his arms. ‘Okay. Where?’

‘The old skate rink. I’m guessing you know where it is.’

The line went dead. Outside, thunder boomed again, and rain splattered down. The world closed in on Harry and he wanted to smash it all apart. I should’ve pulled the trigger. I should’ve pulled that fucking trigger. Then he felt Jess’s hand on his shoulder. He sat down on the floor, put this head in his hands and sucked in a deep breath. Let it out and sucked in another.

‘What? What is it?’ Jess said.

‘Crowther,’ Harry said. ‘He’s got Dave. Shit!’ He stood up and rubbed his face. Christine walked into the room from the kitchen, a concerned look on her face.

‘He wants me to try and summon Rob, or something.’

‘Can you even do that?’ Jess said.

Harry looked up, sweat stung his eye. ‘No. I don’t think so. It doesn’t work like that. But we know where the documents are now.’

‘So you’re just going to tell him?’ Christine said.

‘What do you want me to do, Chris? He’s got Dave. This isn’t a fucking movie!’

‘I know it’s not, Harry,’ she said. ‘But you’ve worked your arse off on this. You go down there and give them what they want and Cardinal gets away with it all. Again.’

‘I’ve got fifteen minutes.’

‘Shit!’ Christine went back to the kitchen. Harry could hear her pounding away on a keyboard. ‘I’ll be damned if these fuckers get away with this.’

‘What are you doing?’ He and Jess followed her back to the kitchen.

‘Putting all this stuff in the cloud. And emailing it to Miles, and me, and you.’

Harry shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter, Chris. Without the documents, it’s meaningless.’

‘Bullshit, Harry! That is total bullshit. Don’t you get it? You had most of the story. You got it yourself! Rob didn’t know about the Swenson connection. He didn’t know about the property deals.’

Harry pressed his hands against his eyelids. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s over.’

‘Harry, come on. Do you really think delivering yourself to them is going to save you?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Have you got a better idea?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’