Now Showing (15 page)

Ned pointed, ‘He's pissed himself.'

Ellis looked. ‘He did. Looks like ya sprang a leak down there, Simon.' Ellis patted his own groin. ‘Get you a nappy, boy.'

Ned laughed. ‘That's a good one.'

‘You get his feet, Simon. We'll leave Bob at the motel. The cops will think he shot the jockey, and tell Foster the jockey got him. And we collect. It's perfect.'

The ute coasted into the Middle Swan Motor Inn with its headlights off. It stopped at a metal fence where a sign read,
Pool Closed due to refurbishments.
Luke Balder looked over to the Camry parked in front of room twelve. He flicked the interior light so it wouldn't come on and checked around the court. Only four other cars were parked in front of rooms and only number twelve had lights on.

Luke took his .22 from the front seat and eased out of his car. He closed the door with a gentle click and walked to number twelve with the rifle down along his leg. At the door he looked around once more, before moving a pistol that was stuck in his belt a little further around so it was hidden beneath his jacket. He took a half step back and balanced to kick in the door, but then thought better of it. He tried the doorhandle. It wasn't locked. He opened it and stepped inside.

JJ, who was sitting on one of the beds, yelped and threw himself down between them.

Grace sat on the other bed and looked a little relieved to see Luke standing inside the motel room door with the .22 up and ready to rescue her. She said, ‘Lisa told you.'

‘She thought it best.'

‘You phoned!' JJ knelt up between the beds. He took in Luke standing in front of the door holding the rifle. ‘I want you to understand I had no idea that anyone was trying to kill me.'

Luke fought the desire to punch JJ. He said, ‘You caused it.'

Grace stood up, almost between the men. ‘I said we should come back. It was me who said we should come back to Perth.'

JJ said, ‘I never wanted to live in a caravan behind her sister's house.'

Grace nodded. ‘I shouldn't have asked her.'

JJ said, ‘It wasn't my fault. I got caught in the middle of all this.'

‘I don't want you,' said Luke, silencing them both.

JJ blinked, still kneeling between the two single beds.

Luke said, ‘I want those three guys in the taxi. I want the shooters.'

‘For Tim,' said Grace. She got it. Understood what was right. She looked at Luke and nodded at what needed to be done.

He met her eyes and nodded back.

‘So,' said JJ standing up, ‘you haven't actually called the police yet.'

Simon's taxi was parked at a petrol bowser in a twenty-four-hour petrol station. Simon sat, leaning slightly out of the driver's window, looking at one of the petrol station's security cameras. Ned was inside, paying.

Ellis had his head down so the cameras couldn't catch him as he went through the glove box again looking for treasures. He pulled out some paperbacks and tossed them down at his feet.
The Waste Land. The Power and the Glory.
‘Your pants drying all right, are they? Pretty stinky.'

Simon looked down at his lap. There was blood there too and some on his hands from helping to put Bobby in the boot.

Ned headed back from the shop, his arms full with cigarettes, soft drinks and microwaved chicken rolls.

Ellis took out Simon's MP3 player. ‘Still, could have been worse. If you'd shat yourself, that would have been a problem. That would have been curtains for ol' Simon.'

‘You've got a bit of a thing about poop, don't you Ellis?'

Ellis looked up, blinking, hurt.

Simon undid his seatbelt and got out of the car.

Ellis grabbed for the two guns on his lap, spilling one to the floor but getting the other in his hand, to point at Simon. ‘Get back in the car.'

Ned arrived a couple of kicks behind the play.

Simon turned back towards Ellis as though he were just stretching. ‘If you shoot me Ellis, the security cameras will catch it all. Take them no time to track you down. They would take an interest in that.'

Ellis put on his wounded look. ‘Don't you want to play with us anymore, Simon? Ned, put that stuff in the back. If I have to shoot Simon, we'll have to go in there and kill the petrol attendant and all the witnesses and get the security camera tape, or DVD or whatever it's on. Be a bloodbath, I reckon. Crazed taxi driver. You know. That's another film with a taxi they done already.' Ellis smiled up at Simon, lazy, happy to still hold all the cards.

Simon got back in and did up his seatbelt.

Ned got in the back.

Ellis put on Simon's MP3 player and started to hum to the classical music.

Simon drove out through the deserted streets of Midland to the start of the Great Northern Highway, a road that led three thousand miles to the top of the country.

Ellis opened the passenger window and dropped the player out the window, looking at Simon as he did so. ‘Classical shit.'

‘Bach.'

‘Bark?'

‘Johann Sebastian. I think I was listening to the Brandenburg concertos.'

‘This is our old stomping ground, Ned. Near where we went to school. Sure has changed, but. You still live Upper Swan? That's where he lived, I swear. Up a swan. I guess a guy would have a lot of trouble with swan poop, if you lived up one. You still live there, Simon?'

‘Yes, I do.'

‘You're kind of stuck, aren't you, Simon?'

Simon turned, smiling at the triple joke. ‘You got that right.'

Ellis snorted like a joyous sneeze. He nodded a few times to hug the feeling to himself.

Simon drove.

Ellis reached behind and his hand came back with a chicken roll. Ellis pulled down the foil and chomped on the soft mayonnaisey thing, chewing loudly. ‘You know, I saved your life back there. I mean I kind of saved it in the petrol station just now, but the one I'm talking about is Kings Park. Bobby Ponytail was going to cap you. Had his gun coming up. I got there just in time. I stepped in and – pop. Just in time. Saved your life.'

Simon said nothing.

‘You got nothing to say about that?'

Simon thought a moment, then said, ‘Thank you.'

Ellis laughed, but didn't sound like he meant it. Then he got the end of his chicken roll and dabbed it on Simon's cheek, leaving a dribble of mayonnaise. ‘Now we're even.'

‘There's a debt here,' said Luke Balder. Luke sat on the chair by the motel room door, his rifle leaning up against the wall nearby, his eyes intent on JJ. ‘He got shot because of you and now you need to help him.'

‘We have to, JJ. We have to now.' Grace sat on the bed next to her husband.

‘What if I ring Foster, but like make a truce? I say we'll stop everything if he gives us the guys who shot Tim?'

Luke shook his head, wearily.

Grace said, ‘You've got to stop trusting Foster, for a start.'

‘Says who?'

‘Who do you think tried to kill you?'

JJ looked at the empty glass in his hand. He stood and went to the bar fridge. ‘Crossed wires, that's all. He's been good to us.'

Luke said, ‘This is not negotiable.'

The two men looked at each other.

Grace said, ‘I think it's time we called the police.'

‘What?'

Grace turned to Luke and he shook his head.

She said, ‘Let them take care of it. Tell them everything. Let them catch these guys. Put them in jail. Foster too.'

JJ had a new drink. He wandered over to her. ‘And me too? Why we been hiding for two years?'

‘Tell the truth and take the time and we can move on.'

Luke seemed to be thinking about this, studying it carefully, wondering if it were possible.

JJ turned to look at him, a dopey smile forming. ‘You getting ready to move up again, Grace? While I'm in prison, who'd look after you?'

Grace stepped towards JJ, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘I'll wait for you.'

JJ stepped back as though from her touch. What he was really doing was stepping to the rifle. He let his drink fall as he grabbed up the rifle and pointed it at Luke.

‘Admit it, you were thinking about her, just a little, with me in a prison.'

Luke looked up, guilty.

JJ said, ‘Distracting, isn't she. I know.'

‘No, JJ, no,' she said again.

‘I'm not a dog, Grace. Don't talk to me like one.' JJ backed away from Luke, towards the bathroom door with room to swing the rifle at each of them. ‘You'll wait for me, will you? Let's have a new plan. How about we wait for Foster's travelling money? How about that for a better plan?'

‘Money?'

‘Foster's sending someone with some money. No killing. No prisons.'

‘You promised you wouldn't phone.'

‘You know, Grace, you're getting very whiny.'

The taxi drove in and parked in front of number nine.

Ellis said, ‘This is a Glock.' He pointed it at Simon's side.

‘A police gun,' said Ned from the back.

‘We know,' said Ellis. ‘So Simon, same deal. Call out and save him. Maybe he'll have time to scramble out a window or something and you can be a dead hero. Not that anyone would know. They'll think you're a dead nobody. Or ... maybe if he gets away, he'll say, I heard a gunshot. Papers will track it back to you. Say, hey isn't that Simon, with his bright blue eye? It just had to be him. That's exactly the kind of thing he'd do.'

Ned said, ‘Are we going to do this or not, Ellis?'

Ellis looked over, but not annoyed. He nodded. ‘Simon, help Ned get Bobby out of the boot.'

Ellis fished around at his feet and got the other gun.

Grace and Luke tried to reason with JJ who stood inside motel room number twelve pointing the .22 at Luke.

Luke said, ‘When they get here, they'll kill me. You know that, don't you?'

Grace said, ‘JJ, they tried to kill Tim. They shot at Lisa. They'll kill us.'

‘Shut up,' said JJ, not looking at her.

She said, ‘I'm trying to save your life, you dickhead.'

JJ turned. ‘Shut the fuck up.' He raised his hand to hit her.

Bang.

Grace looked at JJ with his right hand up and the rifle barrel dropping.

She looked over to Luke sitting in the chair with a pistol in his hand.

She looked back to JJ who dropped the rifle and walked to the bed.

‘JJ?' she said. ‘John?'

JJ sat on the bed and looked down to where blood was oozing from his liver.

Luke stood quickly and picked up the .22. He said, ‘I'm sorry. I had to.'

Grace turned and slapped Luke hard in the face. She raised her hand to strike again, but Luke grabbed her by the wrist. ‘I'm sorry.'

The door opened.

Someone yelled, ‘Look out!'

Luke turned.

There were three men in the doorway. One sat down and the two behind held up guns and stepped inside, shooting.

Luke shoved Grace towards the bathroom door, and stepped back into the middle of the room firing the .22 from his hip. He hit the big man, the one who'd shoved Grace at Lisa's house, in the thigh. The man fell back against the wall near the door. The first man, without a gun, rolled back out of the door. The smaller man, with blood all over his jeans and t-shirt, kept shooting.

Grace turned to see JJ hit in the arm. Luke stepped in front of her and pushed her all the way into the bathroom where she fell on the tiles. They kept shooting. They shot a lamp, the telephone, a window. And they shot JJ again in the leg. He kept sitting on the bed in the middle of all the shooting like he wasn't hurt, but trying to remember something. Or maybe it was the jockey in him, staying on the horse, no matter what.

Ellis couldn't get a clear shot at the big guy with the rifle. He kept moving around the room behind the bed and jumping up and firing and rolling away again. Finally, he just put his head up into where
Ellis was randomly shooting and took a bullet in the middle of his forehead. Splat.

Ellis pulled the trigger again, for no particular reason, but the Glock was empty. ‘Fuck,' said Ellis looking around the smoke-filled room in awe.

Ned lay on the floor, moaning. He'd taken another bullet somewhere in the chest.

Ellis went around the bed to the rifleman and prodded him with his foot. He picked up the rifle and turned to look at the guy sitting on the bed. ‘This guy has to be the jockey. I mean he's pretty fat, but he's short, right?' When no one answered, Ellis shot him in the head.

Simon had rolled up to a sitting position just outside the motel room door. Lights were coming on in a couple of other motel rooms. He looked at his taxi, and started to get up. That was when he heard a girl giggle. It was an inappropriate sound, like the reaction to someone burping at a dinner table.

Simon leaned in to see the woman from the headlights, sitting cross-legged in the bathroom, looking at the bullet-riddled body of the jockey.

Ellis looked at her too. He stepped around the bed, pointing the rifle.

‘Ned's been shot,' called Simon. He started to step into the room.

‘What?' Ellis continued to advance towards her.

‘We need to get him out of here. Ellis, before the police come.'

Ellis looked over to Simon. ‘Police?'

‘There was a fair bit of noise,' said Simon, apologetic.

Ellis woke. ‘Yeah. Fuckin' yeah, eh.' Ellis grinned then looked to Ned, who was struggling to get up. ‘Dumb fuck. All right.' Ellis turned to shoot the woman.

‘I'll need her to help carry him.'

Ellis stopped.

Simon crossed in front of the rifle. ‘You need to have your hands free. There could be others.' Simon grabbed her by the shoulder. It seemed impossible for her blouse to be so white and untouched by all the blood. ‘Help me carry him. Now.'

Ellis stepped back, then bent to grab Ned's pistol.