Cost twenty grand to have them made up. We
still want them back.
How much?
Heneker thought about it, swinging
the necklace on his forefinger. Im authorised to offer five.
Wyatt smiled, like a shark, then
laughed, a harsh bark in the slice of poisoned air between the concrete floors.
Five? Is that hundred or thousand?
Thousand, Heneker said, pocketing
the necklace.
Jesus Christ.
Wyatt turned away and began to merge
with the shadows.
Youd turn your back on five
thousand bucks?
No response. Wyatt continued to walk
away. Heneker said, a little desperately now, playing for time: Ive got the
five grand, here in my pocket.
Wyatt paused, came back and said,
with deadly calm, The deal is this: you give me the five, I tell you where the
other pieces are.
Heneker shook his head. Pal, you
must be desperate. First you bring me the entire Asahi Collection, then you get
your five thousand.
The sounds when they came consisted
of tyre squeals on the up-ramp and the snap of shoe leather. At once Wyatt
dropped to one knee and kicked out, hard into Henekers groin and then into the
shins of the man who had run in screaming: Police! On the ground! Police! On
the ground!
Both men went down. Wyatt tackled
the next cop. He heard a bone snap, heard a prolonged scream. And then in the
noise and confusion, he ran.
* * * *
Three
Raymond
thought that if these people had any idea, any idea, that he was the
bush bandit, theyd piss in their pants, spill their drinks, lose their
hairpieces, tremble so hard theyd knock over their roulette chips. They talked hard and toughmergers, windfall profits, takeovers, injunctions, lawsuits,
union bashingbut it was all hot air, the men pink and soft, the women wasted
by sunlamps and starvation diets to the consistency of old bootleather.
Sometimes Raymond was tempted to pull a stunt with his sawn-off shotgun, risk
gaol for the pleasure of wiping the greed and satisfaction from their faces.
They werent all like that. Raymond
played at a big-stakes roulette table in the far left corner of one of the
upper-level salons. It was a table that attracted your vulgarians, sure, but it
also attracted the occasional cool, unblinking Asian gambler, whod make and
lose a fortune without feeling that he had to advertise it to the world, the
occasional professional from Europe or the States, and the occasional
middle-aged business type whod looked after his health and didnt make a fuss
about how big he was.
This particular roulette wheel
brought luck to Raymond. Or rather, he knew it would be unlucky to switch to
one of the other tables. On average, he was aheadwin twelve grand one night,
lose eight or nine the next. A week ago hed won twenty-five. Two nights later
he was down thirty. It all meant that he lived a good life but there wasnt
much hard cash in his pocket. Tonight he was behind, most of the cash from the
bank raid gone down the drain.
It was a relative term, losing.
Raymond never had a sense of falling behind, not when he could simply go out
and pull another job to top up his reserves. And there were the other
positives: the women, the covetous glances, the contacts like Chaffey, whom hed
met playing craps, and the intoxicating dreamland of tuxedos, crisp white
cotton, strapless dresses, his own lean jaw and sensitive hands in the muted
24-hours-a-day light.
A number of regulars played this
table. Others liked to watch. Raymond was on nodding terms with all of them but
in the past couple of weeks hed found himself drawn to the company of a man
called Brian Vallance and Vallances girlfriend, Allie Roden.
He watched them now as he stacked
his chips. Vallance was quick and compact looking, with olive skin and a
closely trimmed grey beard on his neat chin. He had a healthy outdoors look,
but Raymond wasnt sure that he liked Vallance. There was a sulkiness close to
the surface, the mouth was too mean, Vallances body language too
buttoned-down. Vallance was about fifty, and that put him about
still want them back.
How much?
Heneker thought about it, swinging
the necklace on his forefinger. Im authorised to offer five.
Wyatt smiled, like a shark, then
laughed, a harsh bark in the slice of poisoned air between the concrete floors.
Five? Is that hundred or thousand?
Thousand, Heneker said, pocketing
the necklace.
Jesus Christ.
Wyatt turned away and began to merge
with the shadows.
Youd turn your back on five
thousand bucks?
No response. Wyatt continued to walk
away. Heneker said, a little desperately now, playing for time: Ive got the
five grand, here in my pocket.
Wyatt paused, came back and said,
with deadly calm, The deal is this: you give me the five, I tell you where the
other pieces are.
Heneker shook his head. Pal, you
must be desperate. First you bring me the entire Asahi Collection, then you get
your five thousand.
The sounds when they came consisted
of tyre squeals on the up-ramp and the snap of shoe leather. At once Wyatt
dropped to one knee and kicked out, hard into Henekers groin and then into the
shins of the man who had run in screaming: Police! On the ground! Police! On
the ground!
Both men went down. Wyatt tackled
the next cop. He heard a bone snap, heard a prolonged scream. And then in the
noise and confusion, he ran.
* * * *
Three
Raymond
thought that if these people had any idea, any idea, that he was the
bush bandit, theyd piss in their pants, spill their drinks, lose their
hairpieces, tremble so hard theyd knock over their roulette chips. They talked hard and toughmergers, windfall profits, takeovers, injunctions, lawsuits,
union bashingbut it was all hot air, the men pink and soft, the women wasted
by sunlamps and starvation diets to the consistency of old bootleather.
Sometimes Raymond was tempted to pull a stunt with his sawn-off shotgun, risk
gaol for the pleasure of wiping the greed and satisfaction from their faces.
They werent all like that. Raymond
played at a big-stakes roulette table in the far left corner of one of the
upper-level salons. It was a table that attracted your vulgarians, sure, but it
also attracted the occasional cool, unblinking Asian gambler, whod make and
lose a fortune without feeling that he had to advertise it to the world, the
occasional professional from Europe or the States, and the occasional
middle-aged business type whod looked after his health and didnt make a fuss
about how big he was.
This particular roulette wheel
brought luck to Raymond. Or rather, he knew it would be unlucky to switch to
one of the other tables. On average, he was aheadwin twelve grand one night,
lose eight or nine the next. A week ago hed won twenty-five. Two nights later
he was down thirty. It all meant that he lived a good life but there wasnt
much hard cash in his pocket. Tonight he was behind, most of the cash from the
bank raid gone down the drain.
It was a relative term, losing.
Raymond never had a sense of falling behind, not when he could simply go out
and pull another job to top up his reserves. And there were the other
positives: the women, the covetous glances, the contacts like Chaffey, whom hed
met playing craps, and the intoxicating dreamland of tuxedos, crisp white
cotton, strapless dresses, his own lean jaw and sensitive hands in the muted
24-hours-a-day light.
A number of regulars played this
table. Others liked to watch. Raymond was on nodding terms with all of them but
in the past couple of weeks hed found himself drawn to the company of a man
called Brian Vallance and Vallances girlfriend, Allie Roden.
He watched them now as he stacked
his chips. Vallance was quick and compact looking, with olive skin and a
closely trimmed grey beard on his neat chin. He had a healthy outdoors look,
but Raymond wasnt sure that he liked Vallance. There was a sulkiness close to
the surface, the mouth was too mean, Vallances body language too
buttoned-down. Vallance was about fifty, and that put him about
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