The Godson Read Free Page B

Korean section. Well bloody well work that out, he mused. An old mate. I have a bit of a joke with her and she just about shits her pants. Once again he shook his head. Buggered if I know. Oh well, she said to meet her out the front. May as well, I s’pose. After stopping at the Memorial shop to buy two souvenir sweat-shirts for his sons, he went down the front to wait for Dutchy.
    Eddie was leaning against the statue of Simpson and his donkey when Dutchy came down the steps of the War Memorial. The colour had returned to her face but the smile appeared a little forced.
    â€˜Eddie Salita,’ she said, when she got close. ‘You stupid prick, you scared the shit out of me. I had to go to the loo.’
    Eddie looked at her questioningly for a moment or two. The years had been good to Dutchy. There was hardly a line on her face and when she came down those steps not a part of her moved that shouldn’t have. ‘Your bloody nerves are going, Dutchy.’
    She smiled at him and shook her head. ‘You got a car?’Eddie nodded to where he’d parked the Rolls. ‘Come on, I need a bloody drink.’
    They walked to the car park and got inside Price’s Rolls Royce. Eddie didn’t start the car straight away but sat there looking at her for a few seconds. By now Dutchy’s sexy hazel eyes had started to crease into a smile, though it seemed a smile of relief more than anything else.
    â€˜So what are you doing in Canberra, Eddie?’
    â€˜I drove my boss down on business. This is his car. What about yourself?’
    She looked at Eddie evenly for a moment. ‘I just sold a bloke five thousand Buddha sticks outside the kiosk less than twenty minutes ago. I went into the Ladies to check the money and on the way out I thought I’d have a quick look at the Vietnam exhibit — seeing as I did my bit for my country over there,’ she added with a smile. ‘Anyway, I’m standing there minding my own bloody business and you come up and grab me by the arm. I thought it was the Federal Police. I bloody near died.’
    â€˜Jesus, Dutch. Sorry mate — I didn’t know.’
    â€˜Ohh, that’s all right, I suppose,’ she sighed. ‘But boy, did I shit! And you have got a way of sneaking up on people, Eddie.’
    â€˜Yeah, I know.’
    She puffed her cheeks in another sigh of relief and flopped back against the head-rest. ‘Anyway, what about a drink?’
    Eddie started the car. ‘Righto. Where’s the nearest bar?’
    â€˜My place. I’m staying at the Alislie. It’s just across the road on Limestone.’
    â€˜Okay.’
    T HE TALL WOMAN in the tweed suit and glasses was all smiles when she opened the door for Price. ‘Mr Galese,’ she beamed. ‘Do come in. The Attorney General has told me so much about you.’
    â€˜Yeah, I’ll bet he has,’ replied Price.
    â€˜I’m Yvonne.’ They exchanged a brief, but firm handshake. She turned to close the door and her long blonde hair swirled across her shoulders. ‘This way, please.’
    Price followed Yvonne through a small hallway hung with expensive oil paintings and beaten bronze plaques into a large, bright lounge room facing the back garden. There were more oil paintings, antiques and miniatures; several lamps dottedthe thick cream carpet that washed against the brown and maroon velvet furniture, giving the room an almost Edwardian effect. The crackle of an open fireplace against one wall spread comfortable warmth throughout the room, and leaning against a mantelpiece above the fireplace was Laurence O’Malley. In his grey corduroy trousers, white V-neck pullover and cravat he practically blended in with a number of marble statuettes placed evenly along the mantelpiece.
    There was no mistaking O’Malley; the silver hair, the large thick nose, slightly veiny from one or two Scotches too many, the drooping eyes which seemed to have