Dead and gone, p.17
Dead and Gone, page 17
‘Very funny,’ I said.
Suzie came in with a cheery wave and headed for the kitchen for coffee, greeting Carl over her shoulder. He didn’t hang around, muttering something about walking and foxes and disappeared up the stairs.
‘He’s super keen on the fox hunting, isn’t he?’ Andre said.
I collected the paperwork from the office and we settled down to lay it all out for Suzie and talk about our options. When she saw the transfers of money Macca had made, she nodded. ‘I had a feeling something like that was happening. There were days here where the few locals who came in were barely covering my wages, let alone anything else. There have been a couple of old pubs in the area that have been done up and become real competition for us. Even Macca noticed the drop in numbers and takings.’
‘This is the problem,’ Andre said. ‘The country gourmet pub is becoming more and more common, and people are doing day trips out of Melbourne and Bendigo. We need to give them a reason to come here. I can do the food part, but what else can we offer?’
We all gazed around the shabby bistro and the overgrown garden. ‘Stuff all at the moment,’ Suzie said. ‘But to do the place up and then have a go at the marketing – we haven’t got any money for that, have we?’
‘We could borrow,’ I said. ‘But you weren’t keen.’
‘No,’ Suzie said. ‘But neither of you could buy me out either.’
We shook our heads.
‘At least you got rid of those two leeches,’ she added. ‘That’s one less drain on our running costs. Bet they didn’t pay you a cent for their rooms and food, did they? Or the litres of beer he put away.’
‘No, but you’re right, it’s great they’ve gone.’ I tapped the pile of paperwork. ‘We’re covered for insurances for another five months. But we have suppliers’ accounts to pay, and we need to keep paying wages, including our own.’
Suzie leant forward and whispered loudly, ‘Is it true that Macca had thousands of dollars hidden in his car? Is that money part of his estate?’
How had that leaked out to the local gossip network? ‘No idea.’
‘Probate will take ages,’ Andre said. ‘No point thinking about it. Really, we have two options. One is to keep going, and do a whole bunch of small, cheap things to try and increase our customers. Suzie, your son is the right age to be into social media and how it all works.’
‘Yeah, I can’t get him off it, and now they’re doing things at school on it.’
‘We could pay him to do us a basic website and Facebook page, and a social media campaign. If he’s not interested, maybe one of his friends is.’ He gestured around the bistro. ‘It wouldn’t take much to tart this place up a bit. I can change the menu – leave the usuals for the public bar, but come up with some specials for the bistro, and promote them on the website.’
‘And the other option?’ I asked.
‘Put it on the market and sell it as soon as probate is through.’
I thought for a few moments about what he was saying. ‘Logically the bank will want us to keep trading. A closed, derelict pub is no good to anyone. We could ask for a small loan to do some renos, and if we end up selling, we’ll pay it back then.’
A laugh boomed out behind us and we all jumped and turned as one. In the entrance of the bistro, a thickset man in jeans and a leather jacket stood with his arms crossed. Blue and red tattoos curled up his neck, and his long grey hair swept back from his forehead into a braid. Behind him hovered a tall, dark-skinned man whose black hair was shaved at the sides and bushy on top. The hairstyle I called ‘toilet brush’. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t like me saying so.
‘Before you get all excited about renovating,’ the thickset man said, ‘you need to work out how you’re going to pay me back.’
I gaped at him, struggling to grasp what he was saying. ‘Are you one of Macca’s suppliers? The beer? Meat?’ Those were two bills I knew were overdue.
He walked over to our table and loomed over us, folding his arms again and deliberately trying to dominate. His mate stood behind him, copying his stance like they were The Menacing Clones. ‘Mr Macclesfield and I had a private arrangement. He owed me a lot of money.’
‘What for?’ Andre asked.
The man’s eyes swivelled up and around, and I realised he was scanning for listening devices or cameras. There were none, but the corners of the room were so dark and dingy it was hard to tell. He decided to play it safe. ‘I supplied him with goods. He paid for them. Now we are in a situation. A situation I don’t like at all. It’s very difficult for me.’
‘You’re saying Macca took your “goods” and didn’t pay you,’ I said. ‘Tell us what they are and we’ll give them back to you.’ I had a horrible idea this thug was talking about chop chop. Where were Heath or Connor when we needed them?
He smiled and one of his teeth flashed with an embedded diamond. For fuck’s sake, talk about pretentious.
‘Your dead mate has stashed the goods somewhere. You’ll have to find out where.’ He unfolded his arms and placed his hands solidly on Suzie’s shoulders. She tried to squirm away but he locked his fingers and forced her to stay where she was. Her face was white with fear.
I flashed back to the threats and the violence I’d suffered over Andy’s video, and the scar in my hand twinged.
‘The goods might be in this hotel.’ His gaze arrowed down to the cellars. ‘Or they might be hidden away somewhere else.’
‘We have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Andre said. ‘You’ll have to help us out a bit more than that.’
‘Either the goods or the money for them,’ the man said.
‘How much are we talking about?’ I said.
‘Initially I would have settled for twenty thousand.’ He beckoned his mate over and murmured in his ear. The dark guy nodded and stepped back. ‘But due to the circumstances under which Mr Macclesfield reneged on our deal, I will need sixty thousand dollars, in order to be compensated for my... distress.’ He smiled again and squeezed Suzie’s shoulders so hard that she cried out.
‘Hey!’ I snapped. ‘Let her go. And you can stop talking bullshit. There are no cameras or microphones in here. The cops have got no reason to bug us.’
The man let Suzie go and stepped around the table to me. He bent down and his breath was like rancid cheese. ‘Bit mouthy, aren’t you?’
I stared back at him. Put this arsehole next to Graeme Nash, underworld boss, and I knew who would come out on top, and it wasn’t Smiley here. But that didn’t get us out of the shit we were in with this guy right now.
‘I’m not mouthy,’ I said. ‘I’m being straightforward because you’re threatening us and we have no idea what you’re talking about. You want something? Spell it out. Otherwise we’ll just report your visit to the cops across the road, and move on with our renos.’ Brave words from me. Inside my guts churned like frogs in a blender.
‘Spell it out, eh?’ The whites of his eyes were yellowish and bloodshot, a sign of something wrong with him. Like being a threatening thug wasn’t enough. ‘Fine, then. Your mate ran off with both the money he owed me and the goods – the cigarettes he’d ordered. So the twenty is for the goods, and the forty is for inconveniencing me. I don’t like having to chase people who owe me. Whether they’re alive or dead.’
The words popped out of me. ‘We thought you killed him.’
‘Piss off,’ he hissed. ‘Why would I do that, and lose everything I’m owed at the same time? You think I’m fucken stupid or something?’
I wisely kept my opinion to myself.
Andre said, ‘But we had no idea what Macca was doing. How is it now our responsibility? We haven’t even got enough to keep the pub running.’
Thankfully, Smiley straightened up and took his foul breath with him. ‘That’s not my problem. I happen to know he left you this place, so you have collateral. I want the money by Sunday night, or else.’
‘We don’t have it,’ I tried one more time.
‘I. Don’t. Care. Find it.’ He pointed at his mate. ‘There’s more where he came from, and we’ll be back. Don’t run squealing to the cops, either. Any of you. I have ears to the ground around here, and I’ll know. Then you’ll be doubly sorry.’
We sat in complete silence as their footsteps receded down the hallway and the front door slammed. A few seconds later, two deep, throaty motor bikes started up and roared away.
Suzie burst into sobs and lowered her head on to her arms, her shoulders shaking. Andre jumped up and went to comfort her, kneeling and hugging her, then patting her gently. I sat and watched, feeling numb, thinking I should do something, anything, but I had no inkling of what that might be. I didn’t think I could even say a coherent sentence right then.
Suzie calmed down a little and blew her nose loudly into a tissue. ‘That’s it, I want to sell. It’s like Macca has cursed us.’
I wanted to tell her she was being stupid, but I couldn’t find a good argument against what she’d said. Andre came to my rescue.
‘Don’t say that. Poor old Macca made a mistake, and he made it because that scheming little bitch, Madeline, tried to con him. If anyone should take the blame for this mess, it’s her.’
‘And she’s gone, so we can’t offer her up as compensation,’ I said.
‘God, I wouldn’t pay ten dollars for her, let alone sixty thousand!’ Andre said.
I almost laughed but we were in deep shit. I was just glad Mia wasn’t here. I didn’t need bikies getting it into their thick brains that she would be a good bargaining chip. I was never going to let that happen again. Which made me think Suzie was right – we should sell.
‘Are we going to tell Connor?’ Andre asked me.
‘I–’ I stared at him blankly. ‘I–’
‘That guy said he had people around here who were telling him stuff,’ Suzie said in a small voice. ‘What if he finds out we’ve been to the cops?’
I looked around the bistro, I thought about Mia, about my house, and how my life had been going OK. Not fabulous but OK, mostly. I refused to think about the mediation meeting. This was here and now. Andre and Suzie were my friends. I’d left things to the police before and in the end it was me who fixed them.
But this was different. Wasn’t it?
I’d trust Connor with my life, I’d thought in the past. Now I wasn’t so sure. The thug had said don’t tell the cops. The ‘or else’ threat was about violence. We only had his word that he wasn’t responsible for Macca’s murder. Next time it might be Andre in the dumpster. Or me.
I shuddered.
But we didn’t have sixty thousand dollars. And I’d vowed I’d never let gangsters rule my life again.
I pulled out my mobile phone, rubbed the dust and handbag fluff off it and tapped my contacts list that had all of four people on it. That one. Tap. Tap. It rang.
‘Hello.’ The sound of his voice made my face heat up instantly, but this wasn’t the time for romantic crap.
‘Can you pop over to the pub? Now?’
Something in my voice must’ve got through to him. ‘Sure. Be there shortly.’
‘Come the back way past the school. I’ll open the kitchen door for you.’
‘Right.’ He sounded puzzled but he didn’t waste time asking questions. ‘On my way.’
I hung up and found Andre and Suzie sitting like statues, watching me with barely a blink. ‘You sure about this?’ Andre asked.
‘No, but I think it’s the less risky of two dangerous options.’
He sighed. ‘If it wasn’t so early, I’d hit the scotch.’
‘I don’t care how early it is.’ Suzie’s face was still white, blotched with red from crying. ‘I’m having a bourbon and coke.’ She went to the bar and came back with a glass of ice and bourbon. ‘Coke seemed unnecessary,’ she said, and managed a shaky smile.
‘Better open that door.’ Andre unbolted the kitchen exit and a couple of minutes later, Heath came in and they shut and bolted the door after him. I’d shut the French doors and the bistro door – it felt like a meeting of a secret society. The bistro was gloomy enough.
‘Right,’ Heath said, when we were all settled around the table, ‘what’s up?’
‘This is confidential,’ I said. ‘Just between us for now.’
‘But–’ he started.
‘We’re serious, mate,’ Andre said. ‘Confidential or we don’t tell you.’
Heath got that mulish look on his face I’d seen a few times, but finally he nodded. ‘OK. For now.’
I let Andre explain what had just happened, the threats, and the bit about ‘local ears’ that were passing on information. ‘We decided we should tell you,’ Andre said. ‘Even though he said not to. So you’d better not let us down.’
‘We need protection,’ Suzie said. ‘What if they come back for us?’ Her mouth trembled and she sipped her bourbon again.
The only protection we were likely to get was already here, investigating Macca’s murder. Was Barney’s informant really someone who was passing on info to the bikies as well? ‘Don’t tell Barney or the Bendigo cops any of this,’ I said.
‘It’s going to be difficult not to,’ Heath said. ‘What this bikie guy has told you is pretty significant for us – if it’s true.’
‘That somebody stole both the money and the cigarettes?’ I asked. ‘But you found a lot of money in Macca’s car.’
‘How did you–’ Heath frowned. ‘Never mind. Yes, we did, but clearly that wasn’t all of it. We’ve heard a rumour that Macclesfield was the front man, that there was a group of them trading in chop chop.’
The old buggers. I didn’t dare look at Andre. ‘So you think Macca had twenty grand on him and the guy who killed him took half? Why not all of it?’
Heath shrugged. ‘The money we found was well concealed. Macclesfield might have been planning to hold half back until he saw the goods.’
‘Do you think it was the bikies who killed him?’ I said. ‘It couldn’t be. Otherwise that thug wouldn’t have come in here demanding payment.’
‘Well, we’re working on...’ he stopped. ‘You don’t need to know.’
Andre leaned forward, his face more serious than I’d ever seen it. ‘Listen, this is our lives you’re talking about. Suzie here is frightened to death already. Keeping us in the dark doesn’t make us feel better about telling you. We could have kept quiet and tried to deal with it ourselves.’
Heath couldn’t help it – he glanced at me. I glared back, my chin in the air.
He let out a long, exasperated sigh. ‘All right, but it stays in this room. We think maybe one of Macclesfield’s group double-crossed him. This person – it could’ve been a woman – went with him to the pick-up place and took a gun. They held up the delivery men and things got out of hand. Macclesfield might’ve known about the gun, or he might not. Either way, he got shot.’
‘By one of his own mates?’ Suzie said. ‘A mate wouldn’t do that.’
‘If the two who just threatened you are telling the truth,’ Heath said, ‘it had to be whoever was with Macclesfield, because according to them, that person took the chop chop and half the money.’
It kind of made sense to me, but there were still bits that didn’t. ‘So where did the bikies go who were there?’
‘Probably they were forced to leave. It’s a wonder it didn’t turn into a shoot-out.’ Heath sat back, but he looked like a cat about to bolt. ‘Hence your visitors now wanting their chop chop back.’
‘Or compensation money,’ Andre said. ‘Which we don’t have.’
‘It’s extortion,’ Heath said.
I didn’t care what the correct term was. I wanted it all to go away. ‘So what do we do when these guys come back on Sunday?’
‘I think you should close the pub and go down to Melbourne for a few days,’ Heath said.
What would that solve? Surely they’d just come back later. Plus we were already teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, and he wanted us to close down. ‘He’s coming back on Sunday, he says. Why don’t we keep trading until we close Saturday night, then shut down for a few days. We can do without Sunday, Monday and maybe Tuesday.’ Andre nodded; Suzie sat with her head down. My guess was we wouldn’t see her in here again until the bikie problem was solved.
‘What if he returns before then?’ Heath said. ‘It’s a big risk.’
‘You’re all still here, you and the Bendigo cops. And Connor,’ I added. ‘Surely you can protect us until Saturday night?’
Andre glared at Heath. ‘We’ve given you important new information, you said. So you’ll surely be investigating the bikie link to Macca’s murder and the chop chop anyway.’
‘Yes, we will,’ Heath said carefully. ‘There’s a task force already working on it. We don’t want to get in their way.’
Suzie exploded. ‘Well, bloody tell them to come and protect us then!’ She gulped more bourbon, and I wished I had a glass of it, too. I knew Heath was doing his best, but this police rules and procedure stuff gave me the shits. Waiting around for people to tick boxes...
‘All right, all right.’ Heath held up his hands. ‘I need to go and report in on all of this.’
‘Go back the same way you came,’ I said. ‘And while you’re there, try to find out who the local snitch is who’s feeding everything you guys do to the bikies.’
‘It’s not one of us,’ he snapped.
‘I never said it was.’ Wow, that warm fuzzy feeling from last night hadn’t lasted long, for either of us. ‘We’re staying open tonight and Saturday. We have to, or we’ll go under. They’re our two busiest nights. We’ll close then for a couple of days and disappear, and see what happens. All right?’
Heath made the kind of noise that said, ‘You’re not being sensible but I can see there’s no point arguing,’ and left us to it, going out via the kitchen again. When Andre had bolted the door, he came back to our table.
‘It’s after eleven. I have to get things moving for lunch. And the bars have to open.’
Suzie still looked frightened but there was colour in her face, even if it was bourbon-shaded. Better than nothing.
