ThornyDevils (37 page)

Even above the wall of sound, a male voice could be heard yelling in Russian from behind the counter. Dimitry quickly turned down the volume. A diminutive man with a shaved head stood with his hands on his hips. Content with the noise level, the man returned back through the curtain screen.

‘My boss,’ Dimitry said with a hangdog look. ‘He like Donna Summer and Bee Gees. No like Deep Purple.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Sam remarked as he removed his fingers from his ears. ‘That music might be good for scaring away intruders.’

‘Good,’ Dimitry slapped Sam on the back. Sam grabbed hold of the display cabinet with one hand to stop himself falling. ‘You understand me. Are you interested in buying?’

‘Can we think about it?’ Dave ventured. ‘Just looking at the moment.’

‘Can we let you know?’ Sam added.

‘We only open certain times,’ Dimitry responded. ‘We are very exclusive. You come back on Friday and ask for Dimitry. Okkie dokkie? I give you best price, mate.’ Dimitry watched them leave the shop, a look of regret on this face.

‘That was an…experience,’ said Sam.’ I think I’m deaf in my left ear.’

‘It’ll come back,’ Dave replied. ‘What do you think?’

Sam tilted his head to hear. ‘Of the stereos?’

‘No,’ Dave said louder, ‘of the whole setup?’

‘Looks like they couldn’t run a twenty-first in a brewery,’ Sam remarked. ‘What are Russians doing in Australia anyway?’

Dave shrugged. ‘You’d probably find Eskimos selling ice-creams if you looked hard enough.’

‘Let’s have a look around the back.’ Sam walked down a lane that connected the back of the shops to the side-street, Dave following close behind.

‘Interesting,’ Sam said, noticing the large metal shed attached to the back of the shop. ‘Looks like a factory out here. They must stock a lot of Russian stereos.’

‘Look at the fencing. That’s razor wire running along the top of it. It would cut you to ribbons if you climbed over that. And the flood lights.’

‘The Russians like their security,’ Sam observed. ‘Or they’ve got something to hide.’

‘We have company.’

They had attracted the attention of two Rottweilers. One charged the fence, biting the wire mesh in its frustration. A voice yelled at the dogs, which spun around and galloped back to the shed.

‘Let’s go before the Russians come out,’ said Dave.

‘They must have good quality stereos,’ Sam grinned as he took a final look at the security fence.

Peter was lying across the back seat snoozing when Sam and Dave returned to the car. He woke with a start when Sam slammed his door shut.

‘Sorry to wake you, young fella,’ Sam laughed. ‘Is that woman of yours wearing you out?’

‘Not really,’ Peter yawned as he sat up. ‘I haven’t seen her since the funeral. What did you discover, Starsky and Hutch?’

‘The Russians sell lousy stereos. We never had the chance to see the German ones,’ Dave commented as he started the motor and slipped the car into first gear.

‘Russians?’

‘Yeah,’ Dave replied. ‘Vodka, caviar, stereos you could drive a tank over.’

‘Do you think they could be selling the heroin?’ Peter asked.

‘Not too sure,’ Sam said.

‘The bloke reckons he’s a former Soviet weight-lifter but he’s not much of a salesman. You’d probably like him, though. The guy is a Deep Purple fan.’

‘The man has excellent taste.’

‘That’s what you call it?’ Sam added. ‘Having your eardrums shattered is taste? Give me Tammy Wynette, Merle Haggard or Slim Dusty any day.’

‘A few Russians have defected here over the years. Usually athletes. Nothing unusual,’ Peter continued as he stretched out his arms. ‘They’d have to sell a few stereos to pay the rent.’

‘What about all the security?’ Sam questioned. ‘Razor wire, guard dogs, spotlights.’

‘Not too sure about that,’ said Dave. ‘Looks excessive to me.’

Peter shrugged. ‘There may be a lot of break-ins in the area.’

‘You think we’re wasting our time, don’t you?’ Sam asked.

‘Babs wasn’t actually credible. She sold marijuana off her front porch.’

‘You didn’t really know her,’ Sam bristled. ‘She just wanted a better start in life.’

‘And pinching heroin and selling it to people was going to improve her life and better the lives of those she sold it to? Wake up, Sam.’

‘You think this Poppy girl is the ant’s pants,’ Sam fumed. ‘Big time lawyer. Good looking. I didn’t think you liked those sort of girls.’

‘I enjoy her company. She’s different. I like that.’

‘I’ve met her type before,’ said Sam. ‘You look at them and they’re not what they seem. Thornydevils, I call them.’

‘What the hell are you talking about? You hardly know her and when you’ve been around her you’ve always been rude to her. Thornydevils?’

‘Yep. They camouflage themselves when necessary and they have spikes.’

‘Is this some ancient Aboriginal ancestor story passed from the dreamtime?’ Peter sat back again, shaking his head.

‘Show some respect, young fella. Nothing to do with that,’ Sam replied. ‘I’ve been around a long time. I know a lot about cattle and I know a lot about people. I watch. I learn. And I’m not saying any more about it because now you’re jumping up and down like when you were a kid. You bloody work it out. I’m done.’

‘She’s fine Sam,’ Peter softened. ‘She’s just a little mixed up. Aren’t we all?’ He always found it difficult to be angry at Sam. Always. It was like arguing with your grandfather. ‘She’s a little mixed up but I really like her. I’m hoping she’ll see me again. I’m big enough to work it out. And I’m sorry about insulting Babs.’ He reached over the seat and patted Sam on the shoulder.

‘It’s all right. Family don’t need to fight,’ Sam said.

‘That’s good,’ Dave sighed with relief. ‘We have to all pull together. So what’s next?’

‘I forgot to tell you,’ Peter said. ‘After Bob’s funeral, I had a visit from the bloke who gave Stella those photos.’

‘I don’t want to see any more crook photos. Please,’ Sam begged. ‘I thought doing it on a beach was daring.’

‘You’re lucky, Sam. He didn’t give me any this time. No photographs, but he did give me some information. He reckons that Donarto and McCracken are involved in a heroin importation business.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I had a feeling that Donarto was dirty and McCracken was just enjoying the benefits, but it never occurred to me he had an active involvement.’

‘Did he give you any evidence to prove his allegations?’ Dave enquired.

‘The O’Learys were the competition and now they’re not. He said he would be in touch.’

‘That’s a bloody bugger,’ Sam commented. ‘You reckon he’s legit?’

‘Well, he mentioned Stella,’ Peter continued, ‘and he was really anxious about protecting his identity. ‘I think he’s an insider, a whistle-blower from within the police force. He doesn’t trust anyone from within, and he’s so desperate that he’s come to us.’

‘You couldn’t identify him?’ Dave asked.

‘A tall man wearing a mask. He had heavy boots on and had an Australian accent.’

‘If he is the only source, we play the waiting game,’ said Dave.

‘Have we got time to wait?’ Sam sighed.

The waiting game.
Ensconced in the Stag at six o’clock on a chilly Melbourne winter evening.
Here I am parked in front of Poppy’s apartment block waiting like a lovesick schoolboy. And I’ve even bought flowers, albeit from a supermarket, but still flowers. Crazy.

He toyed with buying a box of chocolates but family favourites probably wouldn’t cut it in the romance department.
What’s happening, Clancy? What’s overpowered me? I’ve never waited for a woman, nor bought flowers before, not even for funerals.
He had to know where he stood. He grabbed a tattered picnic blanket from under the seat and wrapped himself in it. He wound back the car seat and went into waiting position.

Peter fell into a light sleep, only barely aware that the blanket smelt like stale food and spilt wine. Comforting smells, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had spilt something on it. The only thing missing was the thermos of coffee. In his haste to get rid of Sam and Dave he hadn’t prepared his hot drink.

He had slept in the Stag many times, casing out places, sleeping off a drinking bout, or after misplacing the keys to his flat. The leather seats were as comfortable as a bed. Maybe he should sleep in the Stag more often. If he could install a coffee machine and a small fridge he would be set. Peter was toying with that idea in his dreams when he was awoken by the grumble of Poppy’s sports car easing into the driveway beside the Stag. He quickly threw off the blanket, pulled the seat up and leapt out of the car, hoping he looked nonchalant rather than desperate.

Poppy saw him and smiled. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ she said as she rushed from her car and planted a kiss on his lips. They clung to each other, searching out each other’s mouths over and over.

She was radiant, beautiful. She could have worn a hessian sack and still looked ravishing. ‘Me too,’ Peter replied, reluctantly breaking away. ‘I’ve been ringing your office, hanging around that coffee shop. Now I’m parked like a stalker in front of your flat. You can call the police, but I had to see you. I didn’t know what really happened the other day so I was worried. I’ve really missed you. Really have.’

‘The funeral brought back some bad childhood memories,’ she replied. ‘It was silly of me. I’m sorry if I caused you any pain. Then I thought you’d think I’m crazy and you’d want to avoid me.’

Peter smiled. ‘You don’t have to ever feel embarrassed or crazy around me. That’s what I love about you. You’re beautifully different.’

‘Love?’ she smiled. ‘You mentioned love?’

‘I was just waiting for the right time to say it,’ he admitted, ‘and now it’s arrived.’

‘So what are we going to do about it? I was scared you might just hang around for the sex. I want more than that.’

‘I love fucking you, of course,’ he murmured, ‘but I also want to be with you. I want to do everything with you. I want to go places with you. I want to cry and laugh with you.’

She seemed pleased. ‘No one I’ve ever met has been as eloquent as you.’ She looked at him. ‘Those eyes of yours!’ she shuddered. ‘You remember how I said I was going to make it up to you?’

‘Remember? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.’

‘I have a weekend retreat in the Yarra Valley. It’s in the bush and very secluded,’ she whispered into Peter’s ear. ‘Very few people know about it.’

‘You never told me about a retreat.’

‘I had to be certain you’d understand,’ she traced his lips with her index finger. ‘You grew up in the bush, didn’t you? You’re going to love it. No phones, no television, a fireplace, some cattle in the paddock you can play with. Total peace. And no interruptions. We can fuck all day and night. Eat, drink wine, pat the cattle and fuck,’ she cooed.

‘I’ve missed the bush, it’s true. Getting back to nature,’ Peter said as he ran his hands over her breasts.

‘Control yourself, mister!’ she laughed as she looked around. ‘Let’s not titillate the South Yarra set for free.’

‘So, you’d prefer to go inside and get warm?’ Peter suggested as he raised one eyebrow.

‘Better than that,’ Poppy replied. ‘How about we go to the farm tonight?’

‘Tonight? What about work tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Bugger work. Where we’re going, work doesn’t exist.’

‘All right,’ he responded, ‘on one proviso.’

‘You want to pack clothes? I wouldn’t be too worried about clothes.’

‘We drop by my place so I can get my toothbrush, at least.’

‘Done. You go home and I’ll pack a few things.’ She kissed Peter on the cheek. ‘Then I’ll come past your flat and we’ll go in my car. You can fondle me all the way to the Yarra Valley.’

Dave stopped the Ford under a tree in the street adjacent to the lane behind the stereo shop. ‘I hope you’re right about this, Sam,’ he remarked as he switched off the ignition and leaned across the back seat to grab his camera bag. ‘I think we’re wasting our time, myself.’

‘Why do you guys always doubt my hunches?’ Sam shook his head as he slipped off his seatbelt. ‘I have a feeling about this. I feel it in my gut. Call me crazy, I don’t care.’ Sam gestured out of the window toward two men standing chatting near the shed while the guard dogs patrolled the security fence. ‘They’re working late.’

‘As I said, they’re big on security. Those German stereo units are worth a bundle.’

‘Looks like they’re settling in for the night,’ Sam commented as he continued to observe the two men.

‘I hope we’re not,’ Dave wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. ‘It’s bloody cold. Peter was right to leave work early. This is when I miss living up north.’

‘Did he tell you where he was going?’ Sam asked.

‘He had an interview or something,’ Dave shrugged. ‘He doesn’t tell me much.’

‘I bet he was going to find Poppy.’

‘Another hunch?’ Dave joked as he lowered his seat.

‘It’s the secret Aboriginal ways. You wouldn’t understand being a white fella,’ Sam joked.

‘Ever thought of becoming a private detective? You could solve crimes by hunches.’

‘Yeah. You and I could become a team. Starsky and Hunch,’ Sam laughed.

‘Very funny, Sam, but it isn’t making me any warmer.’ Dave closed his eyes.

‘Don’t you go to sleep on me.’

‘Never,’ said Dave.

‘Wake up!’ Sam poked Dave a few minutes later.

‘What now?’ Dave asked.

Sam pointed to a truck that had pulled up to the security gate. One of the men ran to the gate and unlocked a chain to let the truck in.

Dave watched the truck reverse up to an open door of the shed. Then he lay back down again. ‘So?’ Dave yawned. ‘That’s a delivery truck. Delivering stereos I guess. That’s how the business works. Stereos come in and they go out to the customers. It’s called business.’

‘Maybe I’m wrong,’ Sam admitted. ‘Maybe it’s just a normal business.’

‘We’ll give it five more minutes then we’re going,’ Dave checked his wristwatch. He had just closed his eyes again when Sam shook him.

‘Wake up! They’re here.’

‘Who? What?’ Dave murmured. He inched up in his seat and moved his gaze towards the shed.