Peter Corris - Master's mates

I cut the call.

‘What?’ Master said.

‘The cops, tracking me. O’Connor!’

He poked his head around the corner. ‘What? The coffee’s nearly ready.’

‘Put it in a thermos. Where did the police interview you?’

‘At my office. Why?’

‘They’ll search every location for every person involved. We have to get out of here.’

"Not me,’ O’Connor yelped. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you two lunatics.’

‘Yes you are, Bryce,’ Master said. His tiredness seemed to be in remission. ‘You’re going to climb back into your suit and get your briefcase and all the stuff that says how important you are and come with us.’

O’Connor mustered up a last shred of courage. ‘Or?’

‘Don’t try me, mate. Like Hardy says, I’m looking at life to nothing. It’d make no difference if I killed you.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘I might. That’s your worry. I just might.’

‘This is insane. Let the police come. Tell them everything. They’ll find this North character and your wife and-’

‘He’ll just give in, will he and cop a few murder charges? No way, I know him and others like him. He’ll clean the decks.’

‘You can’t be sure.’

‘Can’t be sure of anything. Suppose it worked out like that. I was part of a police intelligence operation that went wrong, was probably fucking bound to go wrong. You think those guys are going to own up and let me walk away? No chance. If I go back inside I’m dead.’

‘We’re wasting time,’ I said. ‘Get the coffee and the pills and the scotch. Put them in your briefcase and anything else that shows how much money you’ve got. We’re out of here.’

We did it quickly. Master scooped up the guns and I let him. O’Connor showed good housekeeping skills and we were out of the apartment within minutes.

‘Where’s your car?’ I asked O’Connor.

‘In the garage.’

‘We’ll take it and put mine down there.’

Another few minutes, a couple of zaps of the remote control, and we were on the road in O’Connor’s silver grey Beemer with the Mitsubishi safely tucked away from eyes in the sky and on the ground.

O’Connor was driving with me beside him and Master in the back, and as soon as we turned out of his street he asked where we were going.

‘Good question,’ I said. ‘Master?’

‘Other side,’ he grunted.

‘Tunnel or bridge?’ O’Connor said.

‘Whatever you fuckin’ please.’

He sounded ragged again and I opened O’Connor’s briefcase, ignoring his protest, and took out the thermos and packet of herbal kick-starters. I passed them back to Master. ‘You have to get a grip. You were about to tell us something back there when my phone interrupted you.’

Master accepted the thermos and I heard him screw the top off and pour. The BMW held the road like a snake slithering on glass. I heard him break the tablets out of the foil, drink and swallow, drink again, and replace the thermos cap.

‘Fuck, that was strong. I’ve changed my mind, Hardy. How do you get in touch with Piper?’

‘I’ve got a number to ring.’

‘Do it!’

‘Oh shit,’ O’Connor whispered.

‘What?’ Master and I spoke simultaneously.

‘I’m almost out of petrol. I wasn’t expecting to go touring around with-’

‘Shut up!’ Master sounded more alert and focused already. Maybe my metabolism’s wrong for Guarana. ‘This is your territory. Where’s the nearest service station?’

‘I don’t know. I fuel up where I park. In the city.’

‘Fuckin’ yuppies,’ Master said. ‘Hardy?’

‘I’m inner-west. This is downtown Baghdad to me.’

O’Connor’s fleshy pink knuckles were whitening on the wheel. I looked at the gauge and saw that it was dipping below empty.

‘There!’ Master snapped. ‘Pull in at that BP.’ He was suddenly fully charged and I had to wonder how many of the pills he’d taken, or if they were what O’Connor said they were, and just how strong O’Connor had brewed the coffee, or what else he might have put in it. Then I heard the slide on Master’s pistol as he cocked it.

‘While he’s getting the gas, Hardy, you make that call.’

O’Connor slotted the car in to a pump, got out and looked helplessly at the mechanism.

‘He doesn’t know what to do,’ I said to Master. ‘And I’m not sure my mobile’s going to operate in here with all this shit around. We’re going to attract attention. I’m going to help him and then make the call. Okay?’

There was a silence that felt like a minute but was probably only seconds. ‘All right, Hardy. You pay. He gets straight back in. I almost trust you. But I’ll blow your fucking brains out if you… shit, I feel weird…’

I got out of the car with the hair on the back of my head bristling, thinking that Master could snap at any minute. I helped O’Connor unhook the pump and get the petrol flowing.

‘What did you put in the coffee?’ I muttered as we bent over the hose.

‘Nothing.’

‘The pills, then?’

He sniggered. ‘Rohypnol in a Guarana box. It’ll jazz him up for a while and then he’ll be flat on his face.’

‘You’re a sneaky bastard.’

‘I’m a lawyer. It’s expected.’

I glanced at the car. Master was staring suspiciously at us and his eyes had a fixed, haunted look. I flipped open the mobile phone and felt in my jacket pocket for the napkin with Piper’s number.

‘Who’s this?’ Not Piper’s voice.

‘Cliff Hardy for Andy Piper.’

‘Hang on.’

Piper’s gravelly growl came on the line. ‘What the fuck d’you want, Hardy?’

I had to think quickly. Was a phone Piper used likely to be bugged? Probably not. How would he react to what I had to tell him? With luck, it’d shake him up a bit. ‘I’ve talked with Stewart Master. He’s armed and he’s angry and he’s hopped up on something. I had to tell him about our deal.’

‘Fuck you!’

‘He’s all right about it. Wait a minute.’ O’Connor was looking helpless as the pump clicked off. I waved him back to the car and put the pump back on the stand.

‘Hardy,’ O’Connor muttered. ‘This is our chance. Come on. You’re a business person, a professional, not an antisocial criminal like him.’

I hesitated but only for a split second. O’Connor was for self-preservation at any cost and I’ve never been that way. I snarled at him to get back in the car and he did.

When I had the phone back to my ear Piper was spluttering.

‘Don’t tell me to wait, you cunt.’

‘Shut up and listen. The shit’s hit the fan. The cops are looking for me and I’ve more or less kidnapped Master’s lawyer. Master’s got some sort of idea about where his wife might be but he’s holding off until I come up with something. If you’ve found out anything at all, tell me. I need to string him along.’

I heard him shout at someone to turn a race call down and then he came back on the line. ‘I still get the hundred thousand.’

‘If it works out, yes. Come on.’

‘It’s not much, and it might be more to do with the shipment than this cunt North, but there’s some connection. I’m hearing about a guy named Starcevich and his flash boat.’

‘And?’

‘That’s it.’

‘That’s not worth a hundred grand.’

‘It’s not bad for a couple of hours and it fucking better be worth it.’

He hung up. Black Andy at his best. I put the phone away, checked the amount on the pump and went in to pay. We’d been there too long with too big a chance of attracting attention. I hurried back to the car to find O’Connor sitting white-faced behind the wheel and Master swearing at him and waving his gun around.