Peter Corris: The Reward

He hung up and I stood there with my hand cramping around the phone.

I had to bend down to shake Penny Drapers hand and I have no doubt she would have been able to flip me over the back of the wheelchair if shed wanted to. She was a solidly built, dark-haired woman in her thirties. Her face was pleasant and just missed being plain. She wore eye make-up and lipstick and knew how to apply them for best effect. She wore a white blouse, dark trousers and flat-heeled shoes. At a guess, she did weight trainingher shoulders were developed and her grip was strong. Short nails, no rings.

Im glad to meet you, Cliff, she said. Max thinks a lot of you.

Hello, Penny. Sorry I was so shitty last night. Id been put off-balance.

Fatal in any game, she said. Dont worry about it. Max isnt in yet, surprisingly, or maybe not. Can I get you a cup of coffee?

We were deep in the bowels of the Darlinghurst police complex in a small office that had two smaller rooms attached to it. The service, evidently, did not give great weight to its consultant investigative unit. The outfit had two computers and lots of paper. In the important divisions these days, its the other way around. I suppressed the normal impulse to refuse when a cripple offers to do anything for you.

Thanks, Penny. Some coffeed be good. White, no sugar.

She wheeled swiftly across to a table where the urn and fixings were set out and did the business briskly. I looked around the room, noting the orderliness and efficiency. Schedules and lists were pinned to noticeboards; a big whiteboard was covered in diagrams and notes; a scale model of a building was showing on one of the computer screens while options like dimensions, colour, entrance, exit, flashed enticingly. The coffee was good. I leaned against a desk while Penny answered a phone.

When shed finished I said, You suggested that maybe its not surprising that Max isnt here. What did you mean by that?

She picked up a pencil and tapped on the desk with it for a minute. Then she put it back. Have you ever been disabled, Cliff? Put out of action for a while?

I nodded. I had an eye injury. I was effectively blind for a bit.

Right. Did you notice an increased sensitivity to sound and smell and all that, the way the books say?

I did, yes. It went away when I could see again.

Did you have a partner at the time?

Helen Broadway, I thought. Yes, by god I did. I nodded.

Touch became important, right? And smell and taste?

Thats right. I had no idea where this was heading, but it made me feel vaguely uncomfortable. I sipped the coffee and wished Max would come.

Well, its like that with me since… this happened. I can read peoples body language, pick up things from the way they move, the tone of voice, the balance of positive and negative in what they do. Dyou understand?

Whats this about, Penny.

If you asked Max why hes late hed say he was giving us a few minutes to get to know each other. But thats only partly true. What hes really doing is using you as a way of finding out what I think of him. Is that too devious for you?

A bit. Yes.

Im in love with him. I have been since the first day. Hes smart and funny and not vain. Hes stubborn about his deafness and the most understanding person Ive met about my condition. Im crazy about him. I want him very badly.

Penny, I…

I can have sex, you know. Everythings all right down there. Masturbate. Its fine. Itd take a little ingenuity but I reckon Max is an ingenious enough man. Youre embarrassed. I understand. But just hear me out. Pretty soon, Max will ask you what you think of me and then hell sidle round to asking what I think of him. He will, believe me.

OK. I believe you. What dyou want me to do?

Tell him.

Its my turn to read minds. Hell say hes nearly twice your age.

So hes got twenty years and Ive got forty. Say we had twenty together. Id settle for that.

Max strode into the room and dropped his briefcase with a thud. Hello, you two. Howre you getting along?

Coffee all round. Penny went to work at the computer. Max and I huddled in a corner. I told him about the phone call from Claudia Vardon.

Shes the key to the whole thing, Max.

Hold on, hold on. We could be getting our wires crossed here. The whole thing, for me, is the suppression of evidence, the corruption of police officers, the cover-up of a major crime. Plus

The murder of Ramona Beckett.

Exactly. Weve got a handle on the first parts of it, with or without your mystery lady.

Not much of a one as things stand. A tape of some women talking dirty.

Dont mumble. Youre giving yourself away. What was that you said?

All weve got is a tape of some women talking in a brothel.

Wrong. I taped Sligo. I meant to tell you that. You heard what he said. It was virtually a deathbed testimony. Thats pretty powerful stuff. Youre getting sidetracked by this woman. Women can do that better than men.

I couldnt help trying to steer him in the direction Penny had pointed. Is that right, Max? Youd know, would you?

He didnt bite. Save the irony. Cavendish is the target.

Against every logical instinct I wanted to play it the way Claudia outlined. She, this Claudia Vardon woman, knows more about all this than we know.

Jesus, youre obsessed. OK, so what do you want to do?

Hows this? You and Penny find out everything you can about Sean Beckett. When we tackle him were going to need some ammunition unless he just goes to pieces. Thats a days work. Claudia rings tonight. If nothing comes of that we go up against the lot of them with whatever weve got.

What will you be doing?

Ill do the same on Cavendish. Ive got a few mates in the legal game. Ill look in on Leo Grogan if thats possible.

It feels like marking time.

Make some copies of the tapes. Check on the bank accounts. Check on whether anythings turned up on the Barry White hit. Since we dont think theres anyone here keeping an eye on us, you can do that. Come on, Max, youre a copper. You know the drill. Background, mate, background.

Max looked over to where Penny was working and from the expression on his face I got the feeling that shed read him exactly right. His lean face softened and there was something wistful in the tilt of his head. Or was I imagining it? She sat very straight in the wheelchair. Her thick dark hair was brushed back, revealing small, delicate ears and a shapely neck. Maybe Max was a neck man.

He nodded. All right.

I cupped my ear. Speak up!

Max laughed. You bastard.

Penny looked across and smiled. I gave her a thumbs up and left them to it.

Leo Grogan had been transferred to a private hospital in Marrickville. Against the odds, and to the surprise of the medicos, hed survived the crisis and was on the way to at least a partial recovery. There was some doubt as to whether hed gain the full use of his left side but, as Leo drank with his right arm, I doubted that this would worry him too much. I got this information from an obliging nurse at the hospital where I represented myself as a relative.

Poor Mr Grogan hasnt had any visitors, the nurse said. Hell be glad to see you.

Im sure he will. I meant it. I had a half bottle of Johnny Walker red in my pocket. I dont like hospitals. People die in them and have bits removed, so I went as quickly as I could through to the ward which Leo shared with two other men. He was sitting up watching television. His head was bandaged and there were a couple of tubes running into his left upper arm.

Uncle Leo, my favourite uncle, I said. Howre you getting along?

What the fuckre you doing here, Hardy?

Is that any way to greet your one and only visitor? I pulled the curtain half around, shielding us off from the other two patients, both of whom had their televisions going. Leo looked alarmed until I produced the bottle. He nodded vigorously and pointed to the tray carrying a water carafe and two glasses. I switched off the TV, poured two solid shots, added water and put the whisky in the top drawer of his bedside table under a pair of pyjamas.