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Authors: Alastair Sarre

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BOOK: Ecstasy Lake
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‘Alright.'

We docked at Outer Harbor just after dark, bow first so Melody could launch the tender if she needed it. Fern, Tasso and I disembarked and said goodbye to her.

‘I'll come and see you,' I said. ‘Tomorrow.'

‘Yes, please.'

Bert was there to pick us up.

‘You're very trusting,' Fern said to Tasso. ‘I like her, but she
is
the girlfriend of the local crime lord.'

‘Was,' I said.

‘What's the worst that could happen?' said Tasso. ‘She steals my boat. Big deal. I can afford a new one, and so can the insurance company. But I'm not worried at all. She's not going anywhere. She's in love with Steve.'

‘Cut it out, Tasso,' I said.

‘Well, is she or isn't she?'

‘I wouldn't know.'

‘I wouldn't know,' he mimicked. ‘Actually, Steve, I believe you; you wouldn't have a fucken clue.' He, Fern and even Bert thought that was about the funniest thing they'd heard in ages.

27

Bert dropped me off last. The suburb was quiet, as it usually was, and the light from the streetlights barely seemed to reach the ground beneath the jacarandas and plane trees. When I reached the top of the stairs near my front door, a form emerged from the dark.

‘So you do come home occasionally.'

‘Hello, Tarrant. Yes, I come home when I want peace and quiet and to be alone.' I put the key in the lock. ‘That's a hint, by the way.'

‘May I come in?'

I laughed. ‘You don't take hints, do you?'

‘No.'

‘Fine. Come in if you want.' I switched on the light, dumped my overnight bag and opened a window. Tarrant was standing in the middle of the living room, looking around with a cop's deadpan curiosity. He looked tired.

‘Where's the lovely McGarry?'

‘Home in bed. Where I should be.'

‘There you go, you sly dog. I
thought
you had the hots for McGarry.'

‘Not
her
bed, you dick. My own bed, with my own wife. Jesus.'

‘Want a whisky?'

‘What have you got?'

I told him.

‘Yes, then.' He sat on the couch.

I found the bottle, which I kept in a drawer by the door, and poured a couple of neat scotches and handed one to him. ‘Consider this payment for any inconvenience I might have caused you.'

He laughed, but it was little more than an expellation of air. ‘One glass of scotch doesn't quite cover it, West. Even
this
scotch. Nor would a crate of it.' He took a sip and looked at the glass. He held it up to the light and admired the colour. ‘Although it might help.' He took another sip. I tasted mine, too, and watched him.

‘You seem unusually morose tonight, Tarrant.'

‘It happens sometimes.' He tossed the rest of the scotch down his throat and held out his glass for a refill. I fetched the bottle and poured fresh shots for both of us and he tasted his. ‘It happens when you know there's a douchebag roaming the streets and you know he's going to hurt someone and you can't stop it. It happens when you don't know what to do next and everything is a fucken dead end, and you know someone is going to be raped or beaten, or a body is going to turn up with its face smashed in because you weren't smart enough or quick enough or good enough at your job. Yeah, it happens sometimes.'

‘Jesus, Tarrant, let it all out. Unburden yourself.'

‘Yeah, well, fuck it.' He finished his whisky and put the glass on the coffee table. I started to pour him another, but he held up his hand. ‘I've sort of come to like you, West, because you believe that the downtrodden should be defended, which is also what I believe. But you frustrate the hell out of me, because you seem to think you are beyond the law. You think you can work it out all by yourself, and meanwhile a murderer still walks the streets. Any time you want to tell me what the
fuck
is going on, you're welcome to
unburden
to me.'

‘Sure. I'll do that.'

‘Anyway, I came here to tell you something.'

‘Not to unburden?'

‘No.'

‘Alright.'

‘We tried to arrest Harlin based on evidence we found on that hammer of yours.'

‘Not mine. It just turned up in my car.'

He waved an irritated hand. ‘Okay, the hammer that just happened to turn up in your car.'

‘What do you mean you “tried” to arrest him?'

‘We sent a Star Force squad to his place to bring him in. Two of them are in hospital and we don't know where Harlin is.'

‘Shit.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Hence the unburdening.'

‘Hence the unburdening.'

‘Were you going to charge him with Hiskey's murder?'

‘We were.'

‘So his fingerprints were on the hammer and the blood was Hiskey's, right?'

‘I can't tell you that, but you might be able to draw that conclusion. I wanted to make sure you knew he was on the loose and desperate, given that you and he, as I understand it, are not quite friends. We spoke to a few of his colleagues. Harlin isn't happy with you and especially with the way you stole his girlfriend. Melody Thang is her name, right?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you know where she is?'

‘Yes.'

‘Where?'

‘Why do you want to know?'

‘I need to talk to her. Her ex-boyfriend is wanted for murder.'

‘I can't tell you where she is.'

‘Yes you can.'

‘I can't. It's not my decision. I will tell her you want to talk to her. It's the best I can do.'

Tarrant scoffed. ‘West, the best you can do is rarely good enough. In my view she's in danger. Harlin seems like a revengeful type. My advice is to watch out for him and especially look after the girl.' He stood up, and so did I. ‘I hold you responsible for her wellbeing.'

‘Any idea where Harlin is?'

‘No. He made off over the saltpans at the back of his place. Maybe he had a boat stashed in the mangroves. We have people out looking, but it's dark and there are a thousand places to hide out there. It's a maze. My guess is that he'll come ashore during the night and disappear into the badlands.'

‘And make his way here.'

‘Or to wherever Melody is.'

‘I think she's safe.'

‘You better make sure. Thanks for the whisky.' He signalled to me with his finger, a gesture that was neither hostile nor friendly, and was gone.

I sat down and poured myself another drink and took a couple of sips. Then I went and bolted the door, just in case, and sat down again and finished the drink and poured another one and thought about what I should do. I didn't think Harlin would know about Tasso's boat or that Melody was on it, but I also didn't think I should take the chance that he didn't. I poured the whisky back into the bottle. It took concentration.

I heard a noise, and I would have reacted quicker if I hadn't been slowed almost to a coma by three fat slugs of whisky in the space of fifteen minutes. So I stayed where I was. The flat was small, with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a living room with a kitchenette attached to it. The noise came from one of the bedrooms and the door opened and Coy was there dressed in black and he was holding his big silver gun. At least it wasn't Harlin.

‘What the hell are you doing in my bedroom, Coy?' The gun was hanging at his side. He looked tense. ‘How did you get in here?'

‘Same way I broke into your car the other night. Picked the lock. Easy. I've been here for an
hour
waiting for you.' As if I was a twat for keeping him waiting. He walked into the living room, affecting a swagger. ‘You and the cop are chummy.'

‘You can have a whisky, too.'

‘I fucken well will. Would've had one already but I couldn't find where you kept your hard stuff.'

‘You'll have to get your own glass because I'm not moving.'

He found a beer glass in the kitchenette and brought it to the couch. He put his gun on the coffee table and poured himself a drink. The neck of the bottle didn't want to stay over the glass, but he got it under control and he filled the glass almost to the brim.

‘That's not water, by the way,' I said.

‘I'm counting on it.'

‘It's hundred-dollar whisky, squeezed out of the highland peats by barefooted Scotsmen in kilts using a centuries-old method that remains a secret to this day. Treat it with respect.'

‘I've never known anyone to talk as much shit as you.'

He downed about half the glass in one gulp and then closed his eyes and waited for it to hit him. His face started to relax. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

‘I can taste the peat and I don't fucken like it.'

‘But you'll drink it anyway.'

‘I can also taste those Scotsmen's fucken feet.' He bared his teeth in a sudden grin that made his moustache do the splits. He gazed at me with his darting, disconcerting eyes. ‘It seems you kept your end of the bargain. The cop doesn't know where you got the hammer.'

‘He wants to know, though.'

‘But you won't tell him.'

‘Not unless I have to. That's why you're here, isn't it?'

‘I just wanted to know if you'd pissed on me.'

‘I didn't piss on you.'

He took some more whisky.

‘Were you at Harlin's place when the Star Force turned up?' I said.

He shook his head. ‘I heard about it, though.' He put his glass on the coffee table, next to his gun. ‘You might not like it, but you and me are on the same side, West. Harlin will be looking for me, too. The cops have the hammer. Harlin knows they have the hammer.'

‘How?'

Coy shrugged. ‘He was bound to find out. He has friends in the cops. We all do. Information gets out. And if he knows about the hammer he knows they got it from me, since he gave the hammer to me. He sure as fuck won't like it. It's you and me against Harlin.'

‘Sort of.'

‘We ought to look out for each other.'

‘Or completely avoid each other, depending on how you look at it.'

‘Unlike me, though, you've got more than Harlin to worry about.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I know at least two other blokes who wouldn't mind meeting you in a dark alley.'

‘You mean Tiny and Numbat?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I didn't even know they were out of hospital.'

‘Didn't go to hospital. Tiny has a limp and a sore hand, and Numbat is seeing double, but otherwise they're fine. And pissed off.'

‘But
you
like me, don't you Coy?'

Coy bared his teeth in another grin. His teeth were not nice. Then he refocused on the important job, which was picking up his beer glass without knocking it over. He managed to do it, and took another gulp.

‘You might be able to handle Tiny and Numbat, but Harlin is a different matter.' He pointed at me in a stabbing motion. ‘Let me give you some advice about Harlin. I know him, I know what makes him tick. He's going to be careful now. He won't want to be caught by the cops so he'll stay low. There are heaps of places he could go and no one would find him—he has connections and he has money.' He took more of his medicine. ‘But he will still want to take care of things. He has three scores to settle—you, me and Melody. You've seen it when he gets angry.'

‘He does violence.'

‘Yeah, he does violence. And when he's done doing violence he gets the guilts. Then when he's over his fucken guilts he gets angry again and then he does violence again.' He picked up his gun. ‘My guess is he'll come for you first because you're easiest to find. So after he's hurt you he'll feel like shit for a while, and nothing will happen, and then he'll start thinking about how Melody pissed on him and how I pissed on him and he'll start getting angry again.'

‘Yet you are here, which presumably is the first place he'll come looking for me.'

‘Which is why I'm about to fuck off.' He stood up, swaying a little. He rubbed his eyes. ‘That whisky has knocked me around.'

‘Only after you knocked
it
around.'

He steadied himself and stuck his gun in the waistband of his jeans at the back. ‘So long, West.'

‘So long, Coy.'

‘Be careful. He's a violent prick.'

‘I will.' He was halfway out the door. ‘Coy?'

He turned back to look at me. ‘Yeah?'

‘Thanks for the advice.'

‘That's alright, West. If it ever comes to it, maybe you'll do me a favour one day.'

‘Maybe I will.'

He managed to unbolt the door and then he was gone. I was glad he was gone and I didn't think I'd ever do him any favours.

28

I called Bert. He did some checking and rang back.

‘First of all, Melody is okay. I radioed the boat and she answered. She said she'd been asleep and was fine and hadn't seen or heard anything. I also talked to Goldsworthy. His security team checked on the boat an hour ago and didn't see anything suspicious. Goldsworthy said he'll increase the surveillance, so a car will check out the marina every half hour or so for the rest of the night and until further notice. And don't forget that the marina has its own security. It's a tough place to break into and presumably Harlin doesn't even know Tasso has a boat or that Melody is on it. So I think you can relax about Melody for the time being. I'm more worried about you. Harlin knows where you live. You should get out of there.'

‘I've had a few.'

‘Even more important that you get out, then. I'll pick you up in fifteen.'

He called me when he was in the car park and we drove to his place, a comfortable flat inside the city mile. We chatted for a while before I crashed.

‘Thanks for doing this,' I said. ‘I guess it's not in your terms of reference.'

‘Tasso told me to help you out if you needed it.'

‘Fine, then.'

‘Harlin is a problem.'

‘He is. He's scared the shit out of Coy.'

‘Fortunately, looking after Coy is not in my terms of reference.'

Bert dropped me back at my place next morning and scouted it and checked my car before heading off. I told him my plans for the day and he agreed with them and asked me to keep him informed if anything changed. He also gave me hints on how to avoid being followed.

‘Do you also have any hints on how to tail someone without them cottoning on?' I said. ‘I keep getting sprung.'

Bert laughed. ‘One day maybe I'll give you some lessons. In the meantime, just don't do it.'

I took a shower and made coffee using my trusty stovetop espresso-maker before heading to the shops. I bought a smart­phone, a tablet with a SIM card, and several hundred dollars' worth of groceries. And I called in at a hardware store. Then I drove to the marina.

Melody was in a bikini, sunning herself on the deck of the boat.

‘Ahoy,' I said.

‘Ahoy.' She waved at me. I boarded while she donned a beach coat.

‘I brought you some stuff.'

‘Food? Brilliant. This ship has a great pantry, but fresh ingredients would be nice.' We unpacked and stowed everything, and she seemed pleased with what I had brought her. I gave her the phone and she spent a few minutes putting it into commission, and then the tablet.

‘I thought you might like to surf the internet a bit.' I gave her a voucher to an internet store where she could download movies and music.

She gave me a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thank you.'

We made coffee and drank it on deck, sitting in the shade because by now the sun was burning. The marina was peaceful and I liked the sound of the slapping of stays against masts and water against hulls. Gulls mewed overhead, and an occasional outboard motor could be heard.

‘I suppose you're itching to take this baby for a run,' I said.

‘I'd love to. But I won't, unless Tasso says so.'

‘You're warming to him, I take it?'

‘I am. He's not my type, and I'm sure I'm too old to be
his
type, but I like him more than I did.'

‘What's your type?'

‘I'm still trying to work that out.'

We rode that little wave for a while.

‘I'm not sure Tasso is Fern's type, either,' she said.

‘What do you mean?' she said.

‘She's not happy. It's not a happy relationship.'

‘It has endured.'

‘That doesn't make it healthy. And especially not happy. I endured with Harlin.'

‘I don't think Tasso hurts her. I'm sure he doesn't.'

‘I don't think he does either. Not physically.'

‘But mentally?'

She shrugged. ‘Maybe.'

‘Speaking about Harlin.'

‘Let's not.'

‘I think we should.' I told her about my two visits the previous evening.

‘Coy's right. Harlin will be looking for me. But he doesn't know I'm here.'

‘Maybe not. Yet. But he'll track you down eventually.'

‘What should I do?' She had been lounging with her legs crossed, but now she sat up and put her feet on the ground.

‘You could leave. You could be in Sydney or Perth or Auckland by tonight. You could be in the US by tomorrow.'

‘You think I should leave?' She sipped her coffee.

‘Yes, until Harlin is caught. I think you should get out of harm's way.'

‘I don't want to leave. I feel safe here.'

‘I could come and stay. You'd be even safer.'

‘No, I don't think so. Not yet.'

Maybe I looked disappointed because she put her hand on my knee. ‘I just want time to myself. I don't know how long I need it.'

‘Fair enough.'

‘You're not hurt?'

‘Of course I'm not hurt. Just irritated. I have something else for you.' I went to the car, grabbed my purchase from the hardware store and returned to the boat.

‘You bought me an axe handle? You're sweet.' She studied it. It was a solid, nicely turned lump of eucalypt.

‘I thought it might be useful.'

‘I'm sure it will be.'

‘Maybe keep it next to the bed.'

‘I'll keep it near, always.'

‘How long will you stay here?'

‘Tasso said I could stay as long as I like. And I'm going to keep this place so clean and ship-shape he'll want to take me on full-time as crew.'

I headed to the office. I didn't think Harlin would find Melody too soon, but I still worried about her. Tasso called me into his office as soon as I arrived. I checked that the jammer was switched on.

‘Your boat is in good hands,' I said.

‘It's still there, then?' He was sitting at his desk with the usual disorganised pile of paper and books.

‘Of course it's still there.'

‘Bert told me about last night. You've been taking risks.'

‘I've upset a few people.'

‘Maybe you should keep your head down for a few days. Maybe you should stay on the boat, too.'

‘The thought had crossed my mind, but I'm waiting to be invited.'

Tasso laughed. ‘You're a slow worker, my friend. But whatever you do, don't go home for a while. Stay in a hotel somewhere, if not on the boat.'

‘I'm worried about Melody. Harlin won't rest until he hurts her again.'

‘She'll be okay. The boat is being watched.'

‘Yeah, I guess so.'

He stood up and walked to the full-length window overlooking Adelaide Oval. ‘Where are we up to with Ecstasy Lake?' he said.

‘You've submitted the exploration lease application, right?'

‘Right.'

‘So is there anything else we need to do?'

‘In terms of the application, no, unless you want to butter up the minister a bit more.'

‘It's possible to overdo that sort of thing.'

‘He has that contract I gave you?'

‘I believe he has. He would have received it last week.'

‘But you haven't heard his reaction.'

‘No.' Tasso thought for a moment. ‘Maybe I
will
contact the bugger. Invite him for a drink, a discreet drink. My hotel room.' He picked up the phone and asked Fern to put a call through. We waited for her to call back.

‘There's something else that's bothering me,' said Tasso. ‘A loose end.'

‘Uh huh.'

‘The contract between Hiskey and me. As I said before, it's not a smoking gun. It doesn't incriminate me or Goanna Mining. But I still want to know where Hiskey's copy is. I don't want it surfacing at the wrong moment. So what the hell did Hiskey do with it?'

‘Remind me how long he had it before he was killed.'

‘A few days. He came to the office before he went up north. We both signed and he took his copy with him. He went up north the next day or the day after. And then he was murdered the night he got back.'

The phone rang and Tasso answered it. ‘Hello, Minister,' he said in a jovial voice, winking at me. As he smooched with the minister I thought about Hiskey's contract. I thought of an avenue we hadn't explored. Tasso hung up the phone. ‘He's busy tonight, but he thinks he can get away tomorrow by about seven. You come along, too. My place.'

‘Alright.'

‘What about Hiskey's contract?'

‘I've had a thought. I'll let you know.'

Adelaide was just big enough to have a street—or at least half a street—dedicated to sleaze. By day, Hindley Street was a place of greasy food outlets and locked doors. Come night, the greasy food outlets would still be there and doing a roaring trade, and the locked doors would be unlocked and the low-lights would be on and there would be beautiful, bored, erotic girls inside who would make promises with their eyes they wouldn't keep, except maybe to those with enough gold in their pockets. And the lonely and intoxicated would enter, for a fee, and sit there clinging to their drinks and their dreams.

But it was still morning, and the street had a menopausal look about it. The End of the World Hotel was open and I walked in. The place was empty except for Marianne, Hiskey's girlfriend, punching numbers into the till; not even the Professor of Alcohol was in his corner yet.

‘Remember me?'

She looked up. ‘Yeah, you were at Mick's funeral.'

‘That's right.'

‘And you followed me back here. Westie, wasn't it? What can I do for you?'

It was early in the day for a drink, but I thought one wouldn't hurt. ‘A schooner of Pale.'

She pulled the beer. I remembered how she had been on the day of the funeral, worn and tear-streaked with grief. There was less sorrow in her face now, but no more happiness.

‘I wanted to ask you something.' I sipped my beer.

‘Yes?'

‘Did Mick leave any stuff with you?'

‘What sort of stuff?'

‘Papers, letters, notes, that sort of thing.'

She had intelligent brown eyes. ‘I have a box of his stuff. I haven't looked at it. I don't know what's in it.'

‘Could I see it?'

‘Has Sonia sent you?'

‘No. As far as I know she doesn't even know you exist. I'm working with Tasso at Goanna Mining. We don't get along with Sonia.'

‘In that case, yes, you may have a look through the box. In fact, you can have it.' She looked at her watch. ‘I finish early today. Come to my place at six and you can pick it up.' She wrote her address on a scrap of paper.

She lived in a suburb in the northern badlands, a small and not very attractive fibreboard place shielded at the front by a couple of peach trees, laden with fruit. A small white car was parked in the driveway. There was a weathered Aussie Rules footy and the carcass of a motorbike under the trees. Boys, I thought. There was a strong smell of ripe peaches. I rang the doorbell and Marianne greeted me and invited me in. She led me to the kitchen and asked if I wanted a cup of tea. She boiled water and put two teabags into a pot. There was a photo in a frame on the wall showing two lads with mischievous grins.

‘They're my boys,' she said. ‘They're bigger, now. Big boofy teenage boys.' She rolled her eyes in mock horror. We sat at the kitchen table, separated by a fruit bowl. ‘My husband pissed off a long time ago and left me to raise those two on my own. I've worked all my life to do what I could for them. They're good boys, but they're wild. They're
all
wild out here.' She poured tea into two cups, and while I took my first few sips she left the room and came back with a cardboard box. ‘This was Mick's.' She put it on the table and removed the lid. It was about a quarter full with paper. ‘Were you looking for anything in particular?'

‘Not really.'

She reached into the box and pulled out the document on the top.

‘Not this?' She handed it to me. It was on the letterhead of a major legal firm and looked very much like a contract between Goanna Mining and Hiskey. ‘You mentioned you worked for Goanna Mining.'

‘Yes.'

She sipped her tea. ‘Don't worry. I'm not going to claim Mick's ten per cent share of the company or anything like that. We weren't married. We weren't even de facto. I was just a girlfriend of his.'

‘I wasn't worrying.'

‘I hadn't looked in the box until this afternoon. I'm only a barmaid, but I can read. I don't think you're being completely frank with me.'

‘You're right. It's what I was looking for.'

‘I don't suppose it's any of my business.'

I didn't say anything. I glanced at her serious brown eyes. I didn't feel I could hide much from them.

‘When you followed me to the bar after the funeral, I told you that Mick and I had things in common. Do you remember?'

‘Yes.'

‘One of them was a love of country.' I looked at her blankly. ‘I'm Aboriginal, Westie.' I still wasn't making the connection. ‘My father was white, my mother was half-caste—they still used that term in those days—from near Parakilla. They came to live in Adelaide and I was born here, and Mum died when I was nine. But my country is up there. Mick talked a lot about his exploration work when he was sitting at the bar, how he loved it up north. We worked out he'd spent a heap of time in my country. It was what drew us together.'

‘So you know Joe Bettong?'

She nodded. ‘Yes, I know Joe Bettong. But I haven't been back to Parakilla since I was a girl, not since my mother died. I should have gone back, I should have taken the boys. But I grew up white. Aboriginal kids got teased at school.' She shook her head. ‘No, it was much worse than teasing. They got racially abused, every damn day of their lives. So I decided to be white. I have light skin; most of the time I got away with it. I was ashamed to be Aboriginal.
So
ashamed. I was petrified someone would find out.'

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