Wyatt - 01 - Kick Back (15 page)

It was the only thing said by any of
the men in the four minutes they were in the building. Later none of the
victims could remember his exact words or what his voice was like. They were
certain no names were used. They held out their wrists and felt the handcuffs
click tight and they sat there then, in a circle, linked to a leg of Ambers
heavy desk, while two of the men left the room. The third stayed behind.

This one said nothing. He stood
behind Anna Reid, his gun at the back of her bowed head, staring at Finn. The
meaning was clear: try anything and she gets shot. Amber was certain it was a
real gun. She could see bullet tips in the cylinder, and she heard the latex
glove squeak against the metal. No sign of nervousness, no yelling, no waving
of guns around. The policeman who later took her statement nodded. Pros, he
told her.

In Finns office, Hobba and Pedersen
worked fast, slipping a cardboard carton over the safe and tipping it onto the
trolley.

Wyatt heard them returning, the
trolley wheels grumbling on the polished floor of the hall. Then he heard them
go out the front door. He did not look round. He kept his gun on Anna Reid and
his eyes on Finn.

A minute later there was a rap on
the door frame.
Its done.

Wyatt touched his knee very gently
against Annas shoulder, then backed out of the room, his gun now pointed at
Finn. Finn seemed to swell, to spit his words: Ill find you bastards.

In the hallway they removed their
balaclavas, then left the house and heaved the safe into the rear of the van.
Hobba scrambled in after it. Pedersen slammed the door and got into the
passenger seat. Wyatt had the engine running. He eased them out of Quiller
Place and onto Toorak Road, No-one looked twice at them.

At Chapel Street, Wyatt turned south
for three blocks, then he cut in front of a tram and entered the system of side
streets mapped out for him by Pedersen. They were narrow streets, made narrower
by small glossy cars. A dog ran into their path from behind a red MG and they
felt and heard the wheels tumble and crush it. Dogs here were valued over
children. There would be outrage on Channel 10 tonight.

Then they were on Punt Road, still
going south, quite fast now, but no faster than any combative peak-hour driver.
An easy right with the lights onto Commercial Road, a smooth run onto St Kilda
Road, heading north for a few blocks in the service lane, then quickly left,
left again, and down with a gentle bump to the underground level and into the
lock-up garage.

Wyatt began stripping off the
transfers and unbolting the false number plates. Hobba joined Pedersen in the
back of the van. Wyatt heard them conferring. Then Pedersen got out. Wyatt, I
cant drillthe casings mill-hard grid, take hours. Ill have to blow it.

Can you do it without hurting the
money?

Piece of cake. Pedersen
demonstrated with his hands. What I do is, I concentrate the blast around the
lock. No flying metal, just some smoke and noise.

Wyatt nodded. He helped them unload
the safe, backed the van out, and shut the garage door on them. Then, leaving
Pedersen and Hobba to set the plastic explosive, he went up to the street level
with a radio. After five minutes Hobba said, All clear?

The home-time traffic was heavy on
St Kilda Road to Wyatts left and on Queens Road to his right, but here outside
the pink and grey apartment block there was no traffic. He had been thinking of
Sugarfoot Younger, but there was nothing to indicate that Sugarfoot was about. All
clear.

Blowing now.

There was a dull thud, like a
distant door slamming. The radio crackled, as if Hobbas hand had tightened in
reflex.

Wyatt waited. They were taking a
long time. He said, All right?

Wait a tick, Hobba replied. My
fucking ears. Theres smoke everywhere.

Two minutes later, the radio
crackled again. It was Hobba. You little beauty.

Wyatt walked down into the
underground garage again and drove the van back into the lock-up. He could
smell smoke; the air was still heavy with it. Hobba and Pedersen were crouched
over the safe, which was blackened from the force of the explosion. The little
door stood open, scorched and buckled, revealing small stacks of fifty- and
hundred-dollar notes. Hobba hadnt waited. He was bundling the money into a
Qantas bag.

Wyatt unsnapped the fasteners of his
overalls. Ill dump the van tomorrow but you two wont be coming down here
again so check youve got everything. Max, you dump the overalls and the
balaclavas.

Pedersen didnt respond at first.
Then he uttered a short laugh and looked around at Hobba. Listen to him, would
you. Give us a smile, Wyatt. Look at all the lovely loot.

Wyatt ignored him. He stuffed his
overalls, gloves and balaclava into a shopping bag, then retrieved and wiped
the three .38 revolvers.

Forget it, Max, Hobba said.

Well he gives me the shits,
Pedersen said.

* * * *

Twenty-nine

After
the initial fear and upset, and with them all sitting there like that, wrist to
wrist on the carpet, Finn said, to gauge their reactions, This was a personal
thing, you know.

He watched them. The client was out
of it, no problem there. Amber, a bit tearful, sniffed and said, Personal?
Anna Reid gave him her level look. Just lately he never knew what went on in
her head.

There wasnt much in the safe, he
said. Someone was just out to get at me, thats all.

Who? Amber said, distracted and
miserable. She lifted a hand to wipe her nose, realised she couldnt, and
leaned down to where her wrist was manacled to Anna Reids, Anna watching her
neutrally.

Its something I can handle, Finn
said, his expression telling them this was something tricky and private. He
waited, watching them. Ill do the right thing by each of you, of course.
Theres no need to worry on that score.

Amber, blearily concentrating,
frowned at him. Pardon?

He wants us to keep it quiet, Anna
said. This with one of her glittering looks.

Amber was shocked. Mr Finn, we cant,
its not right, you have to tell the police.

With both hands weighed down by
handcuffed wrists, Finn had to settle for placating her with raised palms. Im
sorry. Youre quite right.

I mean, they had guns. They couldve
hurt us. What if they do worse things to someone else next time?

I hear what youre saying, Finn
said, but I thought you wouldnt want the police tramping through here, thats
all, upsetting everyone with their questions, etcetera, etcetera.

No, Amber told him, recovering
quickly, this was heavy duty and he must let the police know. Anyhow, she
said, people wouldve seen something out in the street.

Finn breathed out heavily. Youre
right, he said. Anna was giving him a mocking eyebrow, Amber was giving him
the shits, and the client might as well have been asleep. Okay, wed better
ring them, he said.

Their situation brought films to
mind. They all had to shuffle and reposition themselves until Amber was on her
side, stretching out to plug the phone lead back into the wall socket. Then she
pulled the telephone off the desk. She was about to press the buttons when she
froze, giggling nervously. I dont know the number, she said. Is it 999?

I think its 000, Anna Reid said. Or
11444 if you want to get straight through to D24.

Finn let them play at this. All the
time, his mind was racing, anticipating the police questions, the media
questions, wondering how, when everyone had gone home, hed explain this to
Bauer, wondering how Bauer could stop the damage going any further.

* * * *

Thirty

Sugarfoot
didnt get as far as the weather news this time. His attention was caught by
one of the lead stories, about an armed hold-up in South Yarra, three men, and
how the getaway van was driven so dangerously a dog was killed.

It wasnt much, but the details
fitted: the location, the three armed men. He turned off the television set and
started dial hunting on the radio. By eight oclock he had more information:
the actual street, and a name, a lawyer called Finn.

You had to have a strategy. He
collected his Melways street directory from the Customline, took it back to his
room and began to assemble what he knew. Using scraps of paper, he marked the
location of the lawyers office and where Hobba, Pedersen and Rossiter lived.

He sat back. Where should he start?
Hed sort of come full circle in his thinking. A few days ago he wanted a piece
of Wyatts action. Since Tuesday, all hed wanted was to get even. Now he felt
more on track, wanting a cut
and
wanting to get even.

Thinking about it, why not set up a
deal? Go to one of them and say. fifty-fifty or I talk. Sixty-forty maybe.

Or take a cut and then drop word
where the cops will hear it. Let the cops take care of the revenge angle.

Better still, take a cut now and hit
them one by oneweeks, months, later, when theyre least expecting it.

Hed better hit now, though, before
any of them had time to consolidate or slip away or spend the money.

But when Sugarfoot staked out Hobbas
flat and Pedersens house again, it was as if nothing had changed since
Tuesday. Still no-one was at home. Still there were newspapers on Pedersens
welcome mata total of four now.

If they didnt show up tomorrow, he
didnt know what hed do.

When he got home, Tina had a message
for him. Your brothers trying to get hold of you. Hes rung four times
already. I told him you were out, but he just keeps ringing.

Ill call him.

I mean, Im trying to do my chart,
Tina said.

Ivan answered on the first ring. Younger.

Its me, Sugarfoot said.

Thank Christ for that. Ivan
sounded panicky. Bauer called me earlier. Someone hit one of the outfits
operations this afternoon and he wants us to start putting the word out on the
street. Ten thousand bucks to anyone who can give him a lead.

What was it?

Its on the news. Some lawyer got
done over in South Yarra. Thats all I know. I didnt ask questions.

It made Sugarfoot feel good hearing
Ivan fall apart like this. He said calmly, Youre putting two and two
together, right?

Sugar, listen, I know youve got it
in for Wyatt, but just let it rest, okay? No heroics. No getting tempted. If
Bauer finds out Wyatt hit Ken Sala as well, were stuffed.

Whatever you say, Sugarfoot said.

* * * *

Thirty-one

Wyatt
woke early on Saturday morning, feeling sharp and well. He showered, packed his
things together and stood at the kitchen bench to eat toast and drink coffee.
Pedersen was sprawled on the couch, asleep, and Wyatt could hear the snores of
Hobba in the second bedroom. He looked at his watch: seven-thirty. At eight oclock
Anna Reid was coming by to collect her share of the three hundred thousand
dollars. Then they would drive to his place on the coast. At five minutes to
eight he was waiting for her in the foyer of the safe house.

Her black Volkswagen pulled up
outside just after eight oclock. He didnt leave the building but watched the
car and the street. When he was satisfied that she was alone he went out to the
car. She saw him, smiled, and slipped across to the passenger seat, saying, You
know the way. He stashed his bags on the back seat, got in behind the wheel,
kissed her and started the engine.

He didnt speak until they were
through St Kilda junction. He said, Any problems with the cops about going
away for the weekend?

I just told them I felt upset but Id
be back at work on Monday.

Wyatt nodded. You might like to
look in the black bag.

She smiled and reached around behind
him. He heard her draw open the zip and then she was waggling a wad of
hundred-dollar notes under his nose. All mine?

He nodded. What did the cops say?

A professional job.

What else?

They were puzzled, wanting to know
what Finn had in the safe that was so valuable.

They questioned you separately?

She nodded. We were split up as
soon as the doctor said it was okay.

Doctor?

Just routine. They thought we might
need attention.

What about later? Did you talk
about it with the others?

Anna moved closer to him, putting
her hand on his thigh. We sent Amber and the client home. Finn was a bit
embarrassed. He said he assumed I knew about his planning permission deals.
Told me there was a large settlement in the safe that he couldnt tell the
police about.

So how
did
he explain it to
them?

Said he had cheques, bonds, share
certificates, odds and ends like that, some his, some his clients. Ten
thousand dollars worth, covered by insurance.

Were they satisfied with that?