Free Wyatt - 04 - Cross Kill by Garry Disher Page B

murmur to her, end-of-the-day
murmuring, after love and before sleep, expressing hopes and doubts. It was
something theyd done together since the first night. Pushing down her guilt,
Eileen said, I think you could be right.

    Niall said in a rush, Look, have a
word with Napper. Tell him I want out of remand straight away and I want a
suspended sentence.

    Wouldnt it be better if you talked
to him yourself?

    Christ, no. Niall leaned back,
folded his arms. My reputation would be shot if I did that. If the others knew
hed been here theyd think Im dogging them and Id wake up with a shank in my
guts. Has to be you, Mum.

    Eileen closed her eyes, picturing a
biro with a razor melted into the end of it, a canteen fork with a sharpened
handle. Just then a loudspeaker crackled into life. It was unintelligible but
prisoners were standing and screws were coming into the room, so Eileen knew
her time was up. Not a word of this to Dad.

    Mum, Niall said, you have to get
Napper onto this straight away.

    She left the prison. The heartache
in her sons face and voice had Eileen chafing in frustration at every one of
the doors and gates, every one of the dozy screws that passed for human beings
in that place.

    * * * *

    Sixteen

    Two
days ago Napper had been hassled by his solicitor, then by a whole lot of women
snapping wet towels at his legs. This morning his ex-wifes solicitor had had a
go at him, ringing him at work, reminding him of the court order, reminding him
he was nine thousand bucks behind. So now Napper was knocking on a door in
Richmond, a move he hoped would help him reduce that nine thousand.

    The house was owned by a man called
Malan and it presented a face full of bluster and threat. No trespassing and protected
by electronic surveillance stickers were plastered to the fence, gate, windows
and doors, and, judging by the sounds coming from inside, the front door had
been triple-locked. As if that would keep the junkies out. Napper waited.

    Malan opened the door. He was
slight, greying, pursing unhappy lips in a wedge-shaped head. His face always
seemed out of kilter to Napper, as if something on it was missing or lacking in
size. Councillor Malan himself, Napper said. Just the man I want to see.

    Malan regarded him carefully. What
about?

    Business.

    Malan stepped aside and extended his
arm into the hall. The house smelt of hot stale air. Napper saw four cats in
the doorway, come to see who had arrived. Cat fur was caught in the hall rug.
Malan led the way to a back room and waited while Napper sat down before
sitting himself. What do you want?

    I dont know if you remember our
little talk a while back, Napper said. That ALP fundraising bash?

    I remember it.

    Malan was being sour and wary, so
Napper held up a calming hand. Take it easy, old son. Im not here to arrest
you.

    It was just talk, Malan said. I
was drunk. You havent got a thing to arrest me on.

    Napper glanced around the dim room. You
need a skylight in here. He sorted idly through some leaflets and magazines in
the rack next to his chair. Ah, here we are. It was a handbill. It read Stop
the Asian Invasion.

    Malan said, Somebody slipped it
under the door.

    Sure they did.

    Malan scowled. Spit it out, Napper.

    Napper rested his forearms on his
knees and butted his big head into the space between them. You remember how
you told me Eddie Ng has got the numbers to make mayor next month?

    Malan nodded curtly.

    Well, I ve been reading the local
rag, listening around the local waterholes. I reckon youre right.

    Boat people own half of Victoria
Street, Malan said passionately. Now they want to take over local government.

    Exactly, Napper said. I mean,
where will it end?

    Malan said nothing. They were
watching each other. Napper spoke first. What are your chances of making
mayor, if Councillor Ng was out of the running?

    First rate.

    Napper leaned back. He tried to lace
his fingers behind his head, but that strangled his circulation. He swung