Black Ice (30 page)

Tuesday 16 April, 9 am

Seren warned Marco not to leave the room or open the door to anyone. She left him watching cartoons in the itchy, fifty-dollar-a-night hotel close to the unit block and went down to the car park to make the calls. She took a seat on a low brick wall alongside the building, out of the wind and out of sight of the road.

Her boss answered first ring. She'd hoped he'd be in his office. It was just after morning-tea time and there was always a lull before the new batch of freshly-slaughtered chickens was delivered to the gutting room floor.

'Hello, Zeko,' she said.

'Why aren't you at work, Seren?' he said. 'And why haven't you called me before now? I was becoming worried about you. Today is the day for your special performance review, have you forgotten?'

'Oh no, Zeko, I haven't forgotten. But I won't be coming in today.'

'Well, that is not satisfactory, I'm afraid, Seren. Your attendance here has been bloody bullshit! Now if you get your bloody backside in here now, sick or not, I won't have to call your bloody probation and parole.'

'Oh, you won't have to call them, Zeko,' she said, removing the tiny recording device from her pocket. 'I think you'll recognise this voice. It's a very distinct accent.'

While Marco had slept the night before, she'd downloaded the footage she'd taken of Zeko in their last meeting in his office. It was a pity Zeko wouldn't get the full impact of the visuals of himself fondling his prick, but she was certain that the audio of him telling her that her job description included blowjobs would do the trick.

And it did. Nicely. Zeko Slavonic would not find the need to call Maria Thomasetti today.

Christian was next. As she went to scroll to his number, the phone rang and she stared in astonishment at the number displayed on her ringing mobile.

'Christian!' she said. 'I was just this minute about to call you!'

'Serendipity!' he said.

'Exactly,' she said, with a fake laugh.

'So what's on your mind, beautiful? Why were you going to call me?'

'Well,' she said, then took a deep breath, 'I've got a day off today, and I wondered if you might want to meet for lunch?'

'Perfect!' he said. 'You see how in synch are we? I was hoping we could get together too. I've got a little business to take care of, and I was hoping you could help me out with it. And then after that we'll have a late lunch and dinner and breakfast too. I can be ready in an hour.'

Not on your life, she thought. Tonight, I'll be with Marco, and you'll be getting your finances together. 'Okay, great!' she said. 'Can you give me an hour and a half? You can pick me up back at . . . at my place. I'll be out the front waiting, just text me when you're close and I'll come down.'

First she needed to do a little shopping. Seren hurried down to the road to the ATM and withdrew a hundred dollars, which ate into her rent money, due in two days. This shit better work, she told herself. Next stop – Officeworks. She purchased two memory sticks, on sale – lucky again – and an envelope. Then it was off to Woollies, where she bought bread rolls and sliced cheese, the brand Marco loved – indistinguishable from soft, sliced rubber – a jar of Vegemite, a six-pack of juice boxes, a bag of Twisties, and a Mars Bar. Hopefully he'd only have time to eat the junk and she'd be back there with him. From the newsagents she bought a couple of comics, more lollies, and a skater magazine. Marco had a school reading book in his bag and the TV. Plenty to do. She wouldn't be that long.

Still, she felt terribly guilty as she watched Marco examining her purchases. She took the opportunity to quickly download the hidden files onto the two USBs, making certain to password-protect the folder again. Hidden or not, her little boy was smart.

She changed quickly, kissed Marco goodbye, and left the hotel.

Checking in last night, she'd seen the gym across the road and had the idea. She couldn't take the copied files with her to meet Christian. Although she couldn't imagine him becoming aggressive and trying to find the copies of the evidence she had against him, only an idiot would take that risk. And she couldn't leave them in the hotel room with Marco – if he found them he might find a way to open them, password-protected or not.

She smiled at the pony-tailed girl behind the counter in the gym.

'I'd like to use the pool, please,' she said. 'How much will that be? Oh, hang on, I'll rent a locker too.'

Five minutes later, after telling Ms Pony-tail that she'd forgotten something and would be back in a tick, she left the gym and headed home to wait for Christian.

Tuesday 16 April, 10.10 am

'Un-fucken-believable,' was Byron Barnes' greeting to the morning. 'What fucken cunt would call someone at this time of the morning?' Eyes still closed, he reached for his mobile and cigarettes from his bedside drawer.

'Man, what time is it?' he said when he answered the phone.

'It's past ten, you lazy cunt. Are you still in bed?' said Kasem Nader.

'Nah, man, nah. Kasem! Fuck, man. That thing at Riverstone. That shit was pretty close, man. I was almost fucken there.'

'Well, you weren't,' said Kasem. 'And the whole thing's a pain in the arse.'

'I know, man. Poor Whitey and Damo.' Still half asleep, he searched around with one hand for his lighter.

'Fuckwit. You're on the fucking phone. Stop with the names.'

'Yep, sure, bro. But this phone's sweet, don't worry. Some cunt donated it to me while he was taking a piss. Shoulda seen the prick when I took off with it. He swung around screamin' with his dick still in his hand and pissed all over the bloke next to him. It was fucken funny, man. You shoulda seen it.'

'I'm so sorry I missed it. Now shut the fuck up. I need you today. How long till you can get here?' said Kasem.

'Where, man?' Where's me
fucken
lighter? Byron was beginning to get the shakes. It'd been ten hours since his last smoke.

'My parents' place,' said Kasem.

Byron's hand found his lighter. Thank fuck. 'Sweet,' he said. He lit a cigarette, sucked it down hard. 'Can ya gimme an hour?'

'Don't be longer than that.'

Tuesday 16 April, 11 am

'Jill, I'll meet you over at Central in ten minutes,' said Gabriel when she answered the phone.

'I can't, Gabe. I'm just about to go in to see the shrink,' she told him.

'Bail,' he said. 'Say you're sick. We got a hit on Nader. He's about to meet with Byron Barnes – associate of Damien and Whitey.'

'Shit! Well, Last'll know about it by now and he'll order me off it. He's not happy that I was out with you yesterday. I'm meant to get debriefed.'

'Last won't know. The techie told me, and I asked him to sit on it for a bit.'

'What about Lanvin and Genovese?' she said.

'No one likes them here. The tech called me first. Look, I'm on the way over. Just get ready.'

Jill didn't want to suddenly feel as great as she did. She was relieved they had a lead on Nader, and she was always happy to avoid a conversation with a psych, but she was beginning to worry about how much she liked being with Gabriel, and how much she hated it when he wasn't around. She jogged out of the building to wait for him.

In his car, she kicked off her shoes to try to force herself to relax a little on the ride out to Merrylands. She agreed with Gabriel's decision that to take Nader in immediately would be a waste. It was possible that they'd be able to connect him with the operation at Riverstone, and that Damien's testimony might get him some charges for the Merrylands' gig, but they had very little evidence, really, that tied him into all of this.

Gabe was certain that Lanvin and Genovese would haul Nader in as soon as they found him. They wouldn't want to risk him taking off again like he did after the Merrylands explosion – they'd had to apply to get approval for the listening device and Nader's name had been all over the court documents. He'd made them look stupid.

But she knew they'd have very little time to get something on Nader before the Feds found out he'd been traced, or he showed up in another call. She just hoped that the pressure of the last few days had been enough to force him into trying to get some of his lost money back. And if he had to cook some more drugs in a hurry, he might lead them to his precursor supply.

She felt her fists clench when the traffic slowed to a crawl on the M4. There was nowhere to go. Gabriel hit the siren, but it was still slow going; half the civilians didn't know what the hell to do when the music started. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly.

Byron cruised his Rexie past the Nader residence and took a quick tour of the bombsite. 'Damn,' he muttered.

Damien's house had been fenced off; signs proclaimed that entry was prohibited due to danger of collapse. He knew he should feel lucky – he was supposed to have been in there when the place blew, and he should also have been at Riverstone by the time it was busted. But instead, he had a real bad feeling. He couldn't pin it down, but he was thinking that maybe it had started with that bitch walking out of Christian's closet the other day, scaring the fuck out of him. Everything was too close for comfort lately.

He pulled into a driveway a couple of doors up from what was left of Damo's house, turned the Rexie around, and headed back up to Nader's. He left the keys in the ignition and walked up to the front door. No cunt would steal a car parked out the front of the Nader joint.

'You're late,' said Kasem when he opened the door. He stepped straight out of the house and into Byron's chest, forcing him to back up quickly.

'Sorry, man. Where we going?' said Byron.

'Just get in the car,' said Kasem. 'No, fuckstick, you go around the other side. I'm driving.'

Aw, fucken hell, worried Byron. No one had ever driven the Rexie but him. She was a virgin that way. Fucken Nader. He climbed into the passenger seat, and couldn't help but admire the view inside his car from this angle. Sweet.

'So what are you so shitty for, Kasem?' asked Byron when they screeched away from the house.

'Hmm, now, let's see. Why would I be shitty?' said Kasem. 'Well, one of my labs exploded. There's that. And the other got raided. That's pissing me off a bit. The cops got one of my best cooks, and probably half a million dollars worth of my drugs. Wouldn't that give
you
the shits a little, Byron?'

Nader took the next corner so fast that any other car would've lost it and rolled. Byron hurriedly plugged his seatbelt in, not sure whether to go with the anger he felt, or the awe that he had such a hot car. Either way, he had a hard-on. Take it easy, he wanted to say, but didn't. He knew that Kasem would only flog the car harder, and he might cop a backhander.

'So you and I, Byron, are going to make a bit of my money back today,' Nader continued. 'I've got a big sale with Worthington and he's expecting 800K worth of shit.'

Byron whistled.

'And what I've got
left
because of this
fuck
around,' Nader slammed his hand down onto the steering wheel, 'is around
500K
worth of shit. But I need all of this prick's money today to keep the supply chain rolling. You know what I'm saying, Byron?'

Byron nodded.

'You don't know what I'm saying, fuckstick, but that's okay,' said Nader. 'It's a business notion called the bullwhip effect. You see, if any part of the supply chain is stalled for even a while it has a flow-through effect on the whole system.'

'So you owe people the money,' said Byron.

'Well, there's that, too,' said Nader. 'So we're gonna meet with Worthington in half an hour and he's going to take the shit I've got, give me all the cash, and I'll get him the rest very shortly.'

'And if he doesn't like that?'

'Then he won't like it. But that's what's going to happen today. I want you there to help him see reason if that needs to happen. You seemed to understand the business behind the deal well enough. You can help me explain it to him if needs be.'

'So I bash him if you tell me to?' said Byron.

Nader sighed. 'Yes, Byron. If I tell you to.'

Seren stood on the pavement and stared down into the car.

'What is she
doing
here?' she said when Christian reached across from the driver's seat and pushed the passenger door open for her.

'Come on, babe, get in. Cassie's going to help us with something before we go to lunch. It won't take long, promise,' said Christian.

Dismayed, Seren didn't move. I can't blackmail Christian with her here, she thought.

'Darling,' said Christian, 'please – I'm in a no stopping zone.'

'I left you the front seat,' called Cassie from the back.

Seren folded herself into the sports car. This can't wait another day, she thought. I'll find some time alone with him.

***

'They're on the move,' said Gabriel, ending his call and handing Jill his mobile phone. The traffic had thinned considerably. He deactivated the siren. 'Can you answer next time it rings? It'll be Ajay, the techie. He's tracing Nader's phone and he said that he and Barnes are still together. He'll tell us where to head next.'

Jill took the phone and waited on the call.

'Who lives here, Kasem?' asked Byron as they pulled up at the front of a block of units in Merrylands.

'Plenty of people by the looks of it, Byron,' said Nader. 'It also happens to be where we'll be doing the Worthington deal.'

'Why here?'

'Why not? You don't need to know more than you need to know, Byron. You're the grunt. Now, hurry up. I want to get things set up before they get here.'

They climbed the stairs to the third floor of the block and Kasem unlocked the door to a flat. Byron took a walk around. Other than a dining table, a woggy-looking sofa and a few kitchen chairs, the place was pretty much empty. Not even a fucken fridge. Byron flopped onto a chair in the lounge room and shrugged. No point asking what the fuck they were going to deal from this empty shithole: apparently he didn't need to know.

Byron watched Kasem walk over to the linen cupboard built-into the wall. He opened it and pulled a box off a shelf. 'A hand here, Byron?' he said.

Byron walked over and peeked inside the box.

'Fuck me,' he said.

'Thank you, I'll pass,' said Nader. 'Take them over to the table.'

The three boxes, which had apparently once contained 'Golden Bananas from the Sunshine State' now held a few hundred bags containing thousands of pills.

'How can you keep that much shit in here, Kasem?' said Byron.

'Apparently you didn't inspect the door properly, Byron.'

Byron walked over to take a better look and saw that the front door was the newest thing in this place. And it looked pretty solid.

'It's iron, Byron,' said Nader, 'bolted at twelve points into the brick walls and the concrete floor, all with the turn of one key. They'd have to pull the wall down to move that door. You're the soldier, remember, and I'm the . . .'

'Boss?' said Byron.

'General, fuckwit,' said Nader. 'General.'

Seren couldn't believe it. Another deal? And eight
hundred
grand? Christian had explained the drug buy on the way over to this ugly-looking block of units.

'It'll be just like last time, Seren,' Cassie had said from the back seat of the car.

Did she mean what that sounded like? Seren wondered. What did Cassie want out of her taping Christian buying drugs? Why did she have to get involved? This was turning into a big mess. Every time there was a crisis in her life, the blackmail plan seemed perfectly logical, rational and justified. And then when things calmed down and she put herself again into situations like this, it felt like complete lunacy.

Exhausted by the constant doubts, Seren decided to just go with the path of least resistance. She didn't need any more evidence against this idiot, but she might as well go the whole hog. It wasn't like she could put the ultimatum to Christian with Cassie here anyway.

A couple of kids – who should have been at school, she couldn't help thinking – chased each other across the soil that served as a lawn in the front of the building. She prayed that Marco would stay put in the hotel until she got back.

Byron jumped up when the doorbell sounded. Scared the fuck out of him.

'Byron, get the door please,' said Nader. 'Oh, but make sure it's him before you open it.'

He must think I'm a fucken idiot, Byron thought, crossing the floor and peering through the peephole.

'It's him,' he said. And the supermodels. He opened the door.

Kasem jumped up and gave Byron a look that sent him stepping backwards out of fist-reach. What? he thought. How am I supposed to know who else you're expecting? I'm not meant to ask questions, remember?

'I'm sorry, ladies, I don't mean to be rude,' said Kasem. 'I thought, Christian, that we'd arranged for this to be just us? Why did you bring these women?'

'Yeah, what is it with you and these bitch . . . girls?' said Byron. 'Kasem, they're the chicks I told you about in the city.'

'Shut up, Byron,' said Kasem. 'Have we met?' he said, turning to the brunette.

'Yes, actually,' she said. 'My name's Cassie. I came to a gathering at your home, somewhere in this suburb, I believe it was.'