Free Wyatt - 05 - Port Vila Blues by Garry Disher

Lisle
took delivery, or De Lisles sold it already to someone whos trying to sell it
again. I like the first scenario, myself, and I say we deal with it ourselves.
Im not ready for De Lisle to get an attack of the nerves and shut us down. I
cant afford it.

    The mortgage, Niekirk said. School
fees.

    Exactly. Springett rubbed his jaw.
So I say we lean on the courier.

    Youve convinced me.

    They were silent for a moment.
Springett said: I watched you watching him.

    Niekirk snorted. And the rest,
arsehole. You knew what the job was, and when, so you watched me and my blokes
pull it and then you followed me, right? So much for De Lisles fail-safe
method.

    Springett shrugged. If the stolen
Tiffany hadnt shown up I wouldnt have had to shadow you last night. You were
watching the courier, dont forget.

    So were all suspicious of one
another. So what?

    Springett stretched tiredly. Keep
your shirt on. Idve watched him in your shoes. What did you make of him?

    He probably works for an airline.

    Springett began to nod his narrow,
well-tended head. Travel all over the country, no questions asked.

    Theres another job going down in a
couple of weeks time, Niekirk said.

    The Asahi Collection. What of it?

    We grab the courier before he
delivers to De Lisle. Put the hard word on him, see what he admits to. Niekirk
paused, looking hard at Springett. How did the Tiffany turn up, anyway?

    In reply, Springett took out a
photograph. This is from the files. This guy and another guy we know nothing
about recently had a meeting with a local fence.

    Frank Jardine, Niekirk said at
once.

    Springett let some surprise show
through the smiles. You know him?

    He was never active and we never
had anything on him in Sydney, Niekirk said, but the whisper was he blueprinted
the odd payroll snatch or townhouse burglary. He looked up. Hes in Melbourne
now?

    Turned up six months ago. Not a
well man, from all accounts.

    But still working.

    A few weeks ago he handled some
paintings stolen from a house in Sydney. The insurance company paid to get them
back.

    Niekirk snorted. Always do,
piss-weak cunts. If theyd let us do our job . . .

    Same things likely to happen with
the Tiffany.

    So, lean on Jardine, find out who
gave him the Tiffany. Save a lot of running around.

    Springett glanced away at a point on
the wall. Cant do that. The Tiffanys only just shown up, and Id rather
sniff around than risk scaring these people off.

    No pictures of this other guy?

    Not yet.

    Youre letting the deal go through?

    Yes.

    No questions asked.

    Thats right. We cant risk an
official investigation. We dont want the Tiffany being traced back to its
source, because that could turn up your name, my name, De Lisles name. De
Lisle would shop us to save his neck, count on it. I dont fancy ending up in
Pentridge. I put too many hard cases in there whod love to have a crack at me.
We need to let the Tiffany fall out of sight again but meanwhile ascertain how
and why it showed up, and make sure we fill the hole in De Lisles operation,
if there is one. That way, if there ever is an investigation it will
come to a dead end.

    Niekirk grinned. If you were to
delete one or two of these characters, youd have your dead end, no problem.

    Worth keeping in mind, Springett
agreed.

    * * * *

    Eleven

    The
tortoiseshell frame was fitted with broad, elliptical lenses which lightened
the dark cast of Wyatts face and softened its hard edges. He wore grey
trousers, black shoes, a sports coat over a white shirt and a tweedy,
out-of-date tie. The ID card clipped to his belt suggested that he spent his
life shuffling forms or drafting regulations that said no to everything.

    So no one was looking twice at
Wyatt, but Wyatt, pretematurally wary, was going home the long way. After
leaving Liz Redding he had driven to Moorabbin Airport, on the flat lands
south-east of the city. Cessnas, Pipers, a couple of helicopters and one Lear
Jet were parked near the hangars, fuselages and wings