Ghost River (21 page)

‘We can't do that. He does business all over town. We'd be fucked.'

‘We're fucked anyway.'

Vincent opened the desk drawer and bound the money with a rubber band. He rifled through the drawer in agitation. ‘Where's my fucken pen?' He tore the drawer from the desk and threw it at the wall as well. ‘Go grab us some paper and a pen from downstairs,' he barked at Rodney.

Once Rodney had left the room Vincent turned his attention to Sonny and Ren. ‘Let me give you some advice. Never get yourself in debt, not to anyone. It done your old man no good, Sonny. It has done you no good either. And look at me. I'm getting fucked harder than both of you.'

‘I'm still in debt,' Sonny answered. ‘I owe you.'

Ren was silently praying that Sonny wouldn't be stupid enough to start talking about the letter he'd received from his father and how Vincent had lied to him.

‘Right. You are in debt,' Vincent agreed. ‘But you can't blame me for that. Your old man stuck you on the bottom rung, not me. And it's up to you to find a way back up, for yourself.'

‘I am trying to find a way out,' Sonny said, looking directly at Vincent.

Vincent emptied his glass, stood up and poured himself another.
Rodney came back to the room with the pen and paper. He lit a smoke and stood by the window as Vincent sat at the table and began writing. He checked his words after every sentence. When he finished he folded the sheet of paper, tucked it inside the rubber band and ordered Sonny to stand up. He pulled the front of the boy's jeans open, tucked the money inside and patted it.

‘Can you feel that wad against your balls?'

When Sonny didn't answer, Vincent leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, ‘You fuck this job up and I'll have them off you.'

As he felt for the money again Vincent noticed the corner of the cloth money bag poking out of Sonny's pocket. He pulled it out, opened it and emptied the contents onto the couch. Notes and loose coins fell from the bag. ‘Look here, Rodney, a fucken bonus. Count that. Could be a couple of hundred there.' Vincent stroked the side of Sonny's face. ‘Good work, son. Now, it's up to you to do this delivery for me. On top of the cash payment you've just made, I'd calculate that you're close to walking away. What do you think, Rodney? We owed any more?'

‘Can't be sure, Vince. I leave the sums to you.'

Sonny was shaking with rage. ‘You said that the first time I did a job for you. And that's my money you just took. I've been saving it.'

‘Good boy. Be proud of yourself. Shows that you have initiative. I won't forget that when I'm putting the money on a horse. Tell you what. If it gets up I'll give you a sling for your trouble. Now get your arse downstairs and across the street.'

Vincent turned to Ren. ‘The warning goes for you too, pretty boy. If young Sonny here fucks this up, or thinks of doing something stupid, don't forget you're accountable for him.'

The minute they were out in the street Sonny headed for the laneway behind the pub. He pulled out the roll of money and unwrapped the note.

‘What are you doing, Sonny? He'll be watching for us from the window. If he doesn't see us he'll send Rodney after us.'

‘Fuck Rodney. And fuck Vincent. He stole my money.'

Sonny stuck the roll in his front pocket and tore the written note to pieces without bothering to read it.

‘What are you doing?' Ren shouted. ‘Now we're really fucked.'

‘Vincent's gonna be fucked this time, not us.'

‘How?'

‘Follow me.'

‘Where?'

‘To the club.'

‘Sonny, we can't go in there without the money.'

It was raining again. Sonny pulled his jumper over his head. Ren grabbed him by the arm. ‘We can't do this, Sonny. We won't get out of the club alive.'

Sonny pushed him in the chest, almost knocking him over. ‘Well, fuck off then and leave me to do this on my own. I'm finished with Vincent.' Sonny was out of control on account of the money he'd carefully saved being snatched by Vincent.

‘I'm not gonna fuck off on you,' Ren said, hurrying to catch up with him.

Sonny lectured Ren as they crossed the street, the rain belting down on them. ‘You might be smarter than I'll ever be. Up here.' He tapped Ren on the side of the head. ‘But not out here,' he gestured to the street. ‘I've got it all over you. You're always telling me
we gotta have a plan, Sonny.
Well, I got one now.'

‘And when did you think of it?'

‘Just this minute.'

‘That's great, Sonny. If Chris pulls that knife out and offers us a slice of cake, I'm running.'

Sonny stopped outside the door to the club and took a deep breath, working up his courage before knocking. Nikos opened the door and they followed him into the club. Chris was standing behind the counter, wearing his old blue cardigan over the top of a white shirt, and drinking a coffee. Ren looked at him more closely than he had before, trying to figure out if what Brixey had said about Chris being responsible for the dead body on the railway station could be true. But the old man looked no different. Ren couldn't imagine him as a killer.

Chris waved at the boys to join him at the counter. ‘You have something for me?'

Sonny shuffled towards the counter. ‘We have nothing for you,' he said, calmer than Ren would have thought possible.

‘Nothing?'

‘Vincent sent me and told me to give you a message.'

Chris looked puzzled. ‘But no package?'

‘Nah. Just the message.'

Chris took a step back from the counter. He didn't look so friendly all of a sudden. He gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed and darkened. ‘And the message? Tell me now.'

Sonny spoke as slowly and deliberately as possible. ‘He told me to let you know there is no more money coming.'

Chris stuck a hand behind his ear as if he hadn't heard properly. ‘What do you say? Come closer.'

Sonny didn't move. ‘He says there is no more money coming.' He hesitated before adding, ‘He also said to tell you that if you're not happy to let him know yourself. He said you'd know what that means.'

One of Chris's eyes began twitching. He walked around the counter and rested a hand on each of Sonny's damp shoulders and gently shook him. ‘Are you sure of the message? You must be sure.'

Ren felt that he was about to piss his pants again, just as he had done in the back of the police car.

‘I'm sure about all of it. He was talking with one of the others, the one who is always with him. Rodney, the one with the lucky card tattooed on his hand. They were counting some money together. A lot of money, and Vincent was telling Rodney he was going to put the money on a racehorse.'

Chris walked over to the door, parted the curtain and looked out into the rain. He called Nikos over and talked to him in Greek. While Chris spoke quietly into his ear, Nikos swore in a violent mix of English and Greek.
Fuck! Dirty malaka!

Nikos walked to the back of the room, leaned into one of the old men at the card table and whispered something in his ear, before returning to Chris and relaying a message from the man at the table, again in Greek.

‘Wait. I will call,' Chris said. He picked up the telephone and began dialling. Ren stared at the phone, realising that as soon as Vincent told Chris he'd sent Sonny across the street with more than three thousand dollars wrapped around his dick, and a note most likely explaining how the next payment would be made, Chris, or maybe Nikos, would take them into the back room and slice them open. Or maybe he'd deliver them back to Vincent and let him do it. Nikos grabbed the phone from Chris's hand, slammed it down and hissed at him through his teeth. Chris listened closely and nodded his head in agreement.

Chris put an arm over the shoulder of each of the boys. ‘It is time for you to go. Home. I am busy now. Off.'

Sonny was about to say something. Ren wondered if he was crazy enough to ask for a piece of cake. ‘If you ever have work, any jobs done, I could do them for you,' he offered.

Chris smiled at him. ‘You are good worker. One day, maybe I will see.'

As the boys were being led out the door by Nikos, Chris picked up the telephone again and dialled a number. Out in the street the boys stood under the shop awning. Sonny lifted one foot onto a bench and retied a shoelace, all the while looking up at the window of Vincent's office.

‘So, where's the plan go from here, Sonny? We're dead. You know that, don't you?'

If Sonny was as worried as Ren it didn't show. He took a lot of time tying the shoelace. When he finished he started on the other one.

‘What the fuck are you doing? We have to split before Vincent catches up with us.'

‘Not yet. We'll wait a bit.'

‘Wait? Are you crazy?'

‘Let's cross the street. You'll see, something will happen'

They ran across the road and ducked in the doorway of the butcher shop. Ren crammed into the doorway beside Sonny. ‘And what's gonna happen?'

‘Not sure yet.'

It was cold and wet standing in the doorway. Ren was desperate to go home. Each time he opened his mouth to tell Sonny he was leaving he was told to shut it. ‘We'll give it a couple more minutes. I promise, if nothing happens by then we'll take off.'

They waited more than fifteen minutes before anything did happen. A car drove slowly along the street and parked in front of the club. The driver sat in the car and lit a cigarette. After a few minutes Nikos opened the cafe door, poked his head out and waved to the driver. The driver got out of the car and walked towards the cafe.

‘Fuck!
It's Foy
,' Sonny said.

‘Foy? Why would he be going to the club?'

‘No idea. But I don't want him catching us here. Let's take off before he comes back out.'

They didn't stop running until they were almost home.

‘It might not be a good idea to sleep at home tonight,' Sonny said.

‘Why's that?'

‘That Foy. I can't work out what he's got to do with Chris, but I bet he'll come after us.'

‘You should have thought about that before you stole Vincent's money. You forgot to put Foy in your plan.'

‘It was never Vincent's money in the first place.'

‘Not yours either.'

‘Some of it should be, for the work I did. And you. I'll give you half the money. You gonna sleep out?'

‘I don't want any of the money and I'm not sleeping out. Where you gonna hide?'

‘In the signal box. No one's gonna look for me there. In the morning, with the money I got, less your cut, I can get to any place I like.'

‘I just told you, I don't want a cut. And what are you going to do about Rory? You forgotten about him?'

‘I haven't forgotten,' Sonny protested. ‘I'll make sure to see him before I go.'

‘You can't desert Rory, when he come and looked after you.'

‘I'm not deserting him. If he was here now, he'd tell me to do the same, shoot through.'

‘I bet he wouldn't. He'd say running would get you nowhere, I reckon.'

‘It'll get me away from here. You have a torch I can borrow?'

Ren went into the house. Archie wasn't home and he could hear Loretta moving around upstairs. When he returned with the torch Sonny offered him his hand, the same as he had done the day he walked home with Ren after stepping in against Milton.

‘After I'm gone you will need to spread a story about me. Say it was my idea alone. That I took Vincent's money.'

‘I couldn't do that. Never.'

‘Sure, you could. Rory and me, we sometimes read crime stories in the magazines about gangsters in America. True stories. He read one story to me about a big time criminal who was old and had lost all his soldiers. They'd been killed in gun battles or were in prison. He was the only one of his gang who'd never gone to gaol or been shot. I said to Rory,
he must be the smart one, the leader.
Rory laughed and told me I had a lot to learn.
Smarter than you think
,
he said. He reckons that the biggest crims, the ones who stay out of prison, they might be the smartest, but they're also the biggest laggers.
In bed with the police
, is exactly what he said.'

‘Do you believe him?'

‘Everything Rory has said to me, any advice he's given, has turned out to be a good lesson. Yeah, I believe him. So, what you have to do is lag me. Crims do it to each other all the time.'

‘I can't.'

‘You can if I'm asking you.'

‘If I did that you'd have to write it down, so people knew it was your idea. I don't wanna be called a lagger. No one round here would talk to me again.'

‘Whatever you want me to do, I will.'

‘I better go inside,' Ren said. ‘Try and get these wet clothes off before my mum sees me.'

‘Okay. I'm gonna grab a blanket and stuff and go out by the back gate.'

CHAPTER 17

The next morning Ren got out of bed. The house was cold and it was raining out. He thought about Sonny holed up for the night in the signal box. He put his dressing gown on and went downstairs. Archie was in the kitchen, flipping eggs at the stove and waiting for his favourite radio show to begin,
News Beat
. Its reporters trawled the streets of the city chasing the drunken fights, car smashes, accidents and robberies.

‘Morning,' Archie said. ‘I thought the smell of bacon might get you moving. Do us a favour and put some toast on.'

Archie looked up at the clock sitting on the fridge. It was five to nine. Ren cut the bread and put it in the toaster, boiled the kettle, put the tea in the pot and placed the butter and milk on the table. Archie liked to be seated with his breakfast in front of him when the show started. He was ready with a raised knife and fork when the pips from the radio signalled nine o'clock.

Archie had a habit of providing a running commentary on each story. The show kicked off with the breaking news of a double shooting in the inner city.

Archie looked up from his plate and smiled. ‘Terrific. Last week was awful. All they had was a cat stuck down a drain and a fire in a mattress factory.'

Ren's stomach turned over as he listened to the broadcast.

‘… the two male victims were shot at close range in a laneway behind the Railway Hotel in Collingwood as they were about to drive away in a motor vehicle. One male was found slumped in the driver's seat with a bullet to the side of the head, while a second man was located nearby. He had been shot in the back, most likely as he attempted to escape the gunman. The first officer on the scene, Senior Detective Foy, stated that each of the deceased men, Vincent Anthony Lombardi and Rodney James Lowe, was well known to police.
The crime appears to be gang related
, said
Detective Foy. He spoke exclusively with our reporter at the scene and urged anybody with information about the crime to please come forward.'

‘Outside the Railway,' Archie whistled. ‘Don't surprise me. Always been a blood house. No one'll be
coming forward
on this one. You can be sure of it.'

Ren abruptly stood up from the table. While he couldn't be sure what Foy knew of Sonny taking the money, he was sure Sonny would be in danger if Foy got hold of him, unless he had already done so.

‘What are you doing?' Archie asked. ‘You've hardly touched your breakfast. And the show's not half over.'

‘Sorry, Arch, but I don't feel too good. I've been sick most of the night. I think I should have a shower to wake myself up. I can help you with the dirty dishes after that.'

‘Don't worry about the dishes. I'll clean up. Maybe go back to the cot?'

Ren raced upstairs and dressed as quickly as he could. Archie was busy in the kitchen finishing his breakfast and listening to the radio as he snuck out of the house. He headed along the street, climbed the fence into the railyard and sprinted for the signal box. He stood at the bottom of the ladder and called Sonny's name. His friend unlatched the trapdoor and he climbed the ladder. Sonny was wrapped in a blanket and shivering with cold.

‘You hear the news?' Ren blurted.

‘Not yet. But the carrier pigeon's due any fucken minute.'

‘They're dead, Sonny. Shot dead.'

‘Who?'

‘Vincent and Rodney. I heard it on the radio, just then. They were shot outside the pub last night. Foy's been talking on the radio. He was the first copper there. You know what that means, don't you?'

Sonny jumped up and hugged the blanket to his body. ‘You tell me,' he asked, already sure of the answer.

‘I bet he killed them after that meeting with Chris. You have to get out of here. Take off, like you said last night. Where's the money?'

Sonny opened a cupboard door, pushed an old signal lamp to one side and pulled out the roll of money. He counted out two hundred dollars and put it in his pocket, followed by a second two hundred, which he handed to Ren. ‘I've changed my mind about the money. I'm taking my own back, that Vincent took from me. You should have the same amount, Ren, for all the trouble I caused you.'

‘And what happens to the rest?'

‘I want it to go to Rory. He'll have no work when he comes out of hospital. He'll need it.'

Sonny counted the rest of the money and laid it on the ground. Two thousand six hundred dollars. He handed it to Ren.

‘I want you to make sure Rory gets it.'

Ren added his two hundred to the pile. ‘He can have the lot. I don't want anything to do with it.'

‘It's your money. I'm giving it to you.'

‘I don't want it.'

‘Think about that camera you want to buy, Ren. You take two hundred dollars into one of them shops in the city and you could buy any camera you like.'

‘I don't care. It comes from them two being killed.'

‘Fuck em. They deserved it.'

‘You really don't care that they're dead?'

‘Do you? You'd rather have them taking from us and treating us like shit, running round for them? Would you?'

Sonny was right and Ren knew it. Although he didn't like the feeling, he was as relieved as Sonny that Vincent and Rodney had been killed.

‘Now, take the money and keep it for Rory. Hide it some place safe until he gets home.'

They heard a car driving slowly along the street. Ren lifted his head to the window. It was Foy driving by, in the same unmarked car he'd been in the night before. The car turned into their street, drove to the other end and parked across from Sonny's house.

‘Why would he be driving his own car, Sonny, and not a police car?'

‘Because this is all about last night. He's not on police business. You can't leave here until he's gone.'

The boys sat and waited for half an hour or more, sharing a cigarette but saying little. At one point Foy got out of the car and stood in the middle of the road in the rain before getting back into the car and driving away. Ren watched through the window as the car cruised slowly by the railway line, Foy turning his head and searching both sides of the street.

‘He's gone.'

Sonny threw the blanket to one side. ‘I'm gonna stay here until dark and then take off. I need you to do me one last favour.'

‘Like what?'

‘I don't want to go back to the house. I need you to get a bag ready for me tonight, with some food in it, maybe a jumper and a raincoat if you can find one. I'll meet you in the lane on dark. I'll flash the torch over the fence. Can you do that?'

‘If that's what you want. I hope you've thought this through, Sonny. Maybe you should go now.'

‘I give it as much thought as it needs. And don't forget the money. Hide it good. And Ren,' he stopped and barked a miserable cough, ‘if Rory never comes home from the hospital, if he dies, you use the money to pay for his funeral. It's important he's buried, not cremated. He told me once he couldn't think of nothing worse than being fried.'

Sonny pushed the money into Ren's hands. ‘Be sure to go home by the lane and keep an eye out for Foy.'

Ren spent most of the day in his room. It would be dangerous to leave the house in case Foy was on the street. He packed a woollen jumper and raincoat into his schoolbag and hid it in his wardrobe. He went down to the kitchen, took a packet of biscuits out of the cupboard and two apples from the fruit bowl. Armed with a screwdriver from the laundry he went back upstairs and picked the carpet tacks away from a corner of the room and peeled the rug back. Ren laid Rory's money, folded into a sheet of newspaper, on the bare floorboards and replaced the carpet. He banged the tacks down and moved the chair from next to his bed over to the corner.

The clouds were so low in the sky it was almost dark by five in the afternoon. He sat by the window watching the pounding rain and looking towards the back fence, waiting for Sonny's signal. He could just hear the sounds of the piano coming from the stable. It sounded as if the keys were being battered with a hammer rather than played. The music stopped and the Reverend Beck appeared at the open stable door. A few minutes later his wife walked across the yard holding the hand of a girl. Ren quietly opened his window to get a better look at what was going on. Even though she was wearing a head scarf Ren could see that it was the red-headed girl he'd spied in the stable with the Reverend. Mrs Beck handed the girl to her husband and walked back into the house. He ushered the girl into the stable and closed the door.

Ren kept one eye on the back fence and the other on the stable door, convinced that something terrible was happening behind it. A little while later a dark figure appeared in the yard. It was Della, acting peculiar, creeping across the yard in the rain like a mangy cat, towards the stable. She put her ear to the door for a moment, then disappeared into the laundry. She came out carrying a wooden chair, which she placed under a small window directly above the door. She stood on the chair and looked into the stable. She watched with intensity before jumping off the chair. She stepped back and covered her mouth as if she was trying to stop herself from vomiting. Ren watched as she wedged the back of the chair under the door knob and ran back across the yard and into the house.

Ren had been so fixated on Della he almost missed the flashing light of the torch winking at him from over the back fence. He grabbed his schoolbag and a duffle-coat out of his wardrobe and quickly climbed out of the window. He crossed over to Sonny's roof, slid down the drainpipe into the yard and opened the back gate. Sonny was huddled in the lane, shivering to the bone.

Ren pulled the spare jumper and raincoat out of the bag. ‘Get into the back toilet, strip your wet stuff off and put these on.' He handed Sonny the jumper and spoke to him through the toilet door. ‘It's pissing down. You'd be better off at my place. You can hide out in my room for the night.'

Sonny pulled the wet jumper over his head, threw it out into the yard, put the dry jumper on and the raincoat over the top. ‘Nup. I'm gonna head to the river and camp with Tex for the night. I'll move on early in the morning.'

‘Might not be anything left of the camp with this rain.'

Sonny had made up his mind that he was leaving and there'd be no stopping him.

They walked to the end of the darkened lane. Della was standing beside the telegraph pole, as if she'd been waiting for them.

‘What are you doing here?' Ren asked.

She looked at the bag over Sonny's shoulder. ‘Are you going away?'

‘Nothing to do with you,' Sonny said.

They could hear a banging noise, coming from the stable.

‘I need you to take me with you,' Della said.

‘You got no hope,' Sonny told her.

She turned to Ren. ‘Please?'

‘I don't want you with me,' Sonny said. ‘This is crazy, Ren.'

The pounding on the stable door got louder and they could hear the sound of a girl's voice calling for help. Sonny wouldn't look at Della. ‘Fucken tell her, Ren. She's not coming with me.'

Della knew better than to waste her time on Sonny. She stepped forward and looked into Ren's face. ‘Please help me. Or my father will hurt me.'

The streetlights suddenly came on, exposing the three of them huddled together in the lane. Sonny walked to the middle of the road. ‘I got to take off, Ren.'

‘Sonny, wait,' Ren said. ‘I'm coming … we're coming with you.'

‘No, Ren. I'm not looking after her.'

‘You don't have to. We'll camp with you tonight and go our separate ways from there.'

‘I have enough shit to deal with, Ren. You want to help her out, she's your problem. She's fucken conning you,' he added, as if Della wasn't there at all.

Ren took Della's hand and they followed the beam of light from Sonny's torch until they reached the hole in the fence. Ren climbed through ahead of Della and turned to help her. They slid down the greasy bank together and scrambled to catch up to Sonny. He was standing on a tree stump, the beam of his torch pointed back up to the shadow of the mill.

‘What are you doing?' Ren asked.

‘I heard something. The fence rattled, and I saw something move.'

‘It's just the wind.'

‘I don't think it was. Something else.'

‘Like what?'

‘I dunno.'

It was difficult to see much through the gloom. The relentless rain of recent days had swallowed the banks on both sides of the river. The water continued to rise and the roar of water spilling over the falls was ferocious. The boys looked downriver, realising the camp beneath the iron bridge would be gone.

Ren sniffed the air. ‘Can't see a fire, but I can smell smoke.'

Sonny sniffed also. ‘It's coming from the wheelhouse. They'll be in there trying to keep dry. We'll need to shelter there too.'

‘I'd rather drown than go in.'

Sonny looked down at the rising water. ‘If we stay here we'll drown anyway. You can please yourself.'

Ren turned to Della. ‘I saw what you did back there,' he said, ‘locking your father in the stable. Why'd you do that?'

‘Because of what I saw.'

‘What did you see?' Ren asked, suspecting he already knew the answer.

‘Betrayal,' she spat. ‘My father's betrayal.'

Della had a peculiar look on her face, one as disturbing as her father's, Ren thought. Sonny had opened the wheelhouse door. Smoke poured out. He shone his torch inside, coughing and waving a hand in front of his face. ‘Tex!' he called. ‘You in there?'

There was no answer.

‘Maybe they're not here?' Ren said. ‘It could be an old fire smouldering.'

‘Don't matter. We can stay here the night and in the morning I go my way, you and her the other.' Sonny looked back at Della, standing by the rising bank ‘Don't be trusting her, Ren. Come on.'