Pay Dirt (9 page)

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Authors: Garry Disher

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They also made two survey trips of
the district. They had the maps, but maps are never sufficient. Wyatt couldnt
work without pictures in his head. He liked to know about culverts, road signs,
bends hidden by trees or farm buildings, overhanging branches, road edges
churned and eroded by heavy vehicles, stretches rendered slow or impassable by
potholes, sharp stones or washaways.

On Thursday morning they drove to
Burra, a town that had grown prosperous on Merino wool after the copper mines
had closed down. It had started as a cluster of separate townships on low
hills, but they had amalgamated over time. The houses were built of local
stone. Huge gums grew along the creek. Two-storey pubs with wrought iron
verandahs and vines faced the town square, and the Cornish miners cottages in
the back streets had been tarted up for the tourists. There were two tourist
buses parked outside the tiny museum when Wyatt and Leah arrived. A short
distance away they found Tobin.

He was leaning against his delivery
van, a bulky Ford painted iridescent blue, its doors and side panels decorated
with gold curlicues. He was smoking, watching the locals through his orange
lenses. Wyatt noted the way Tobin ignored the men. He was interested only in
the women. When a woman walked by, he took the cigarette from his mouth and
swivelled his head after her, his mouth hanging open. Leah saw it too, as they
got out of the ute and approached him. Lovely bloke.

Were not interested in his
personality, Wyatt said.

I am. The other day I could feel
his eyes all over me. Hes the sort who has sweaty hands.

Tobin saw them approaching and
stopped lounging. He threw down his cigarette and grinned. All Wyatt could see
of Tobins face were the grin, the cricketers moustache and the reflection of
himself and Leah in the orange lenses.

Its all psychology, Wyatt thought,
working with men like Tobin. Talk their language and youre halfway there. Good
run down? he asked.

Tobin slapped the side of his van. Home
to here in just under two hours, he said. I already unloaded. He counted on
his fingers: Case of Scotch, latest release videos, souvenirs for the Tourist
Centre.

Wyatt looked at the van. The windows
were smoky black; he couldnt see inside them.

What time we getting back here?
Tobin asked. I got to deliver spare parts to a car place in Goyder this arvo.

About twelve-thirty.

Tobin rubbed his hands together. No
worries then. Lets hit the road.

They squeezed together into the
Holden utility and left Burra heading north-west. It was ten-thirty. At eleven
oclock they picked up the Steelgard van in Vimy Ridge, Steelgards last stop
before Belcowie. They tailed it out of the town, staying well back. The traffic
was sparse, as it had been the previous week. The only road dust was coming
from the van ahead of them.

What do you think? Wyatt asked.

Tobin was sitting against the
passenger door on the other side of Leah his head inclined toward the
windscreen. Wyatt was aware of Tobins excitement. Hes getting a kick out of
this, he thought. The van, the money, Leahs leg against his.

What do I think? I expected a
bigger van. This is going to be easy.

You can shift it all right?

No worries.

What if it shuts downmotor,
brakes, locks, electrical system?

Cut the brake lines and winch her
in, Tobin said.

He turned to face Wyatt as he said
it. His back was against the door how, and hed extended his arm along the top
of the seat. His fingers were curled close to Leahs shoulder. Wyatt felt her
move away from him.

The next problem is, Leah said to
both of them, will the short cut be too narrow to take a truck?

Tobin was an uneducated man. Like
many men who work at practical jobs, he relied on physical gestures to
supplement speech. Wyatt glanced away from the road for a moment, to see how
Tobin would answer this question, and saw an elaborate play of shoulders, mouth
and hands, Tobins way of saying, You got me there.

Ahead of them the dust cloud swirled
and changed direction. Goodthe van was using the short cut again. Wyatt waited
for ten minutes before he turned in after it. They followed the track to where
it met the main road again, four kilometres north of Belcowie. Wyatt stopped. Well?

No worries, Tobin said.

He said it again thirty minutes
later when they showed him the farm buildings. No worries. You could hide a
bloody ship in here.

He grinned at them. He had the
orange shades on. Wyatt knew he was looking at Leahs breasts. So, Tobin
said, am I in? Is it a goer?

That depends. We still need a
low-loader or a breakdown truck, one that cant be traced back to us.

Tobin actually tapped his nose
knowingly. Let me take care of that. So, am I in?

Wyatt nodded.

Tobin stuck out his hand and shook
Wyatts enthusiastically. Then he put his arm around Leah and squeezed her. It
was brief, as if it meant nothing, but he looked at Wyatt while he did it, and
Wyatt knew the gesture meant everything.

* * * *

SEVENTEEN

On
Friday afternoon Trigg said, What do you mean, too expensive? Dont you kids
get pocket-money any more?

The kid was about seventeen. He wore
a prefects uniform. His name was Wayne and he was Triggs main supplier at the
high school. Im just telling you what they tell me, he said. The speeds
too expensive, sos the dope.

In my day kids had paper rounds,
they mowed lawns, washed cars. Too fucking slack. These days if theyre not
hanging around the mall theyre in Mooneys

Trigg broke off. If the kids were in
Mooneys playing the pinball machines, how come Mooney kept holding out on the
seven hundred and fifty bucks he still owed? Fucking everyone in Goyder was
welshing on their debts.

Fucking slack, he repeated.

Wayne drank from the Southwark
stubbie that Trigg had given him. He let Trigg rave on. The fact that Trigg was
bent didnt mean that he wasnt like a parent when it came to what kids did
these days. Half smiling at Trigg, Wayne said, Some kids are doing all right
money-wise. The ones with a few dope plants. They charge less than you do.

Trigg closed his eyes. It just wasnt
worth the hassle. By the time hed paid Wayne and the others, and allowed
subcontractors like Tobin some leeway on what they owed him, he never had
enough to meet the interest payment on his Mesic debt. He would have to start
coming down hard on a few people.

So if thats all... Wayne said,
putting down the stubbie and retrieving his satchel from behind the door.

Trigg attempted a smile. Youre in
a big hurry. Why dont you stay a bit longer?

Wayne knew what it was about and his
face shut down. He swung the satchel at the level of his knees. I have to get
home.

Trigg patted the two-seater couch. Just
ten minutes.

Wayne took charge. He dropped the
satchel on the floor again and sat next to Trigg. He trailed his fingers
absorbedly over Triggs knee.

Youve had a haircut, Trigg said.

Wayne shrugged. He kept up the
movements of his hand.

I suppose your girlfriend likes it?

Now, now, Raymond, Wayne said.
With the subdued light, the closeness, and the choked breathing, the air in the
room was charged and avid. It hurt me last time, he said.

Oh, babe, you shouldve told me. Well
do it another way.

Ten minutes later Wayne said, Ten minutes,
and he was out of Triggs house within sixty seconds.

Trigg made his phone calls then. He
felt clammy. He picked at his clothing as he talked.

Mooney? he said. Youre not
getting any younger.

I can give you a couple of hundred,
Mooney said apologetically.

What do you do there, anyhow?
Trigg demanded. Let the kids play the machines for free?

He cut the connection and dialled a
different number. Its Trigg. Youre not getting any younger.

The voice on the other end seemed to
come through a mouthful of food. There were chewing noises and then a clearing
cough. Youve got me. You might as well repossess the car.

Repossess the car? Jesus fucking
Christ, Trigg thought, no ones buying cars to begin with. Id hate to leave
you without wheels, he said. What say I come back a bit with the interest?
Could you pay me, oh, a thousand by next month?

No good, sorry. The banks taken my
cheque book away. Theyre letting me stay on because they cant sell the farm.
But theyve seized me new plough, the wifes microwave

Trigg cut the connection. He was
about to dial again but he felt fouled underneath and went into the bathroom,
stripped off, and had a shower.

It was five oclock. He changed into
clean moleskins, checked shirt, a khaki tie decorated with the wool symbol, and
a kids sports coat bought in Myers, and returned to the Trigg Motors
showroom. His day wasnt made any better by seeing the wrecked LTD on a trailer
at the back of the lot. He walked across to the pumps. Sergeant Kings kid was
slipping a foil packet to a couple of railways apprentices driving a panel van.
He stood back till the transaction was over, then came closer. Im getting a
new shipment in tonight.

Ive still got half the last one,
the King kid said.

Not you as well? said Trigg in
exasperation.

Just then a school bus pulled in for
diesel on its way back from a run through the surrounding farmland. Trigg
turned away in irritation and went into the showroom. Liz was packing up to go
home. Trigg checked the time: five-thirty. He sighed and went into his office,
wanting badly to crack someones skull open.

He picked up the phone, flipped open
the rolodex, and dialled. This is Ray Trigg. Is Tub Venables still there?

Just leaving work now.

Ask him to pop in and see me first,
will you?

Trigg hung up and sat down in the
chair behind his desk. It was fully ergonomic, with levers for raising,
lowering, tilting. Coasters on the bottom. Lower-back support that followed you
as you moved. In this chair, Trigg sat high behind his desk. The best six
hundred bucks hed ever spent.

A trick of the light illuminated Tub
Venables as he appeared at the Steelgard gate and looked both ways before
crossing the road. Trigg watched the fat driver approach, noting the body
language. Scared shitless. A useless bit of useless blubber, all piss and wind.

Trigg knocked on the glass. Venables
started, looked even more scared, and came around the back way. Trigg waited. A
few seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

Dont fucking stand out there,
Trigg yelled.

Venables came in. He shut the office
door behind him and stood as if fearful of the vast stretch of carpet
separating him from Triggs desk.

Come closer, old son.

Venables advanced across the carpet,
taking small steps. He stopped at the desks edge. Look, I know

Do you, now? So why give me a hard
time? You think I havent got better things to do than chase up welshers all the
time?

Its not easy. My daughters
braces

Plenty of kids lead fulfilled lives
with buck teeth. But go on, lets hear the rest. I need a good laugh.

The granny flats working out more
than I thought. At least five thousand more.

Shove the old bitch in a nursing
home.

So I havent got the thousand I owe
you, Venables concluded.

What I dont like, Trigg said, is
fucking cowardice. Youve been avoiding me. You get your mates to tank up your
van, I never see you, you must go in and out of work through the back door, youre
never in the pub.

The wife

The wifes broken your balls,
Trigg said. He stood up. I want you to come with me.

Pardon?

Trigg rounded his desk and made for
the door. Come with me.

He led the way out of the office and
across the used-car lot. He tapped his knuckles on the bonnet of a newish Honda
Legend. There was another shipment coming in tonight, one Merc, one Saab. Why
the fuck they couldnt send him Corollas or Commodores, he didnt know.

In here, he said.

They entered the service bay, a
long, low structure that smelt of transmission fluid, grease and touch-up
paint. Happy Whelan was there, and Venables fell apart. Give us a chance, he
said.

Trigg ignored him. Hap, he said.

Happy Whelan had an undertakers
face on a massive,
bandy-legged,
topheavy body. His movements were slow,
his mind was slow, but he could conceal rust patches and pack noisy
differentials like a pro, and once started on something he was hard to stop. Yeah?
he said.

Lets see if your new mallets got
any bounce in it.

Say again?

Bring Tub over here, Trigg said, and
well do some panel beating on him.

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