Dark Summer. Jon Cleary

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СКАЧАТЬ when your old man worked down here, Scobie. I thought them days were gone forever . . .’He stared into space again for a moment, as if forgetting he was not alone. Then he looked at Malone and Clements again. ‘It used to get pretty ugly in them days sometimes, but you knew what you were up against. It was either the Commos or the Groupers, the Catholics, or you were up against the bosses. Now I dunno who I’m up against. This bunch of crims from down south want to take over the waterfront up here, but someone’s organizing ’em and we dunno who.’

      ‘Where could we find White?’

      The balls rolled into a smile full of cheerful malice. ‘I keep tabs on him. He’s working on Number 9 wharf. He’s there with The Dwarf.’

      ‘A dwarf?’

      ‘Wait till you see him.’ Bremner stood up, the chair cracking once more like a gunshot, and held out his hand. ‘Don’t tell Snow White I sent you. But if you arrest the bastard, lemme know. It’ll make my day. Give my regards to your old man. He was a real terror in his day, y’know. Drop a crane hook on a boss or foreman, soon as look at him. Great union man.’

      Malone and Clements drove round to Nickson Road. The wharves lined the western side of the roadway; on the eastern side were the hill and cliff-faces that led up to the central business district. There were few major cities in the world where the country’s imports were dumped on the doorstep of those expected to pay for them; in the glass castles along the top of the hill executives stared morosely down at their growing debt. Champagne had been drunk in those castles two or three years ago; now they were drinking mineral water. Domestic, of course.

      Malone flashed his badge at the gatekeeper on Number 9 wharf and they drove on to the big expanse, like a concrete field, where containers were stacked three storeys high like townhouses in which the builders had forgotten to insert doors and windows. Three large container ships were moored dockside, stretching through to the neighbouring wharves. A giant yellow mobile crane, looking large enough to lift the national debt, loomed over the police car as it came round the corner of a stack of containers. Clements braked sharply, throwing Malone against his seat-belt. Two men abruptly appeared from between the containers: Malone’s quick impression was that they had been lurking there like muggers.

      ‘Where the fuck you think you’re going?’

      Malone got out of the car, waited till the crane inched its way past them, then he showed his badge and introduced himself. ‘Where can I find Snow White?’

      ‘You’ve found him.’ He looked middle-aged, but it was a look that might have been with him since he had left school. The brown eyes were old and cunning, the lines in the cheeks like chisel-marks in leather, the mouth a brutal line above the pugnacious jaw. He had dark hair cut short back-and-sides and ears that lay along his head like a faun’s, the only soft note about his whole appearance. He was of medium height and bulged with muscle, the result, Malone guessed, of many work-outs in prison yards. ‘What’s on your mind?’

      Malone looked at the huge man beside White. He was about two metres tall and seemed all body and limbs; his tiny head sat on his wide shoulders like an afterthought at birth, something stuck on when the doctor had discovered the newborn infant was incomplete. The small face still had a baby look to it, blank but for a permanent frown of puzzlement between the small blue eyes. Malone guessed that The Dwarf would have a one-track mind: two thoughts at the same time in that small head would only cause a traffic jam. Snow White would do the thinking for them. ‘Your name is –?’

      The Dwarf hesitated, as if the question had baffled him, then he said in a surprisingly soft voice, like a girl’s, ‘I’m Gary Schultz.’

      ‘What’s this about?’ said White, whose voice was anything but girlish; it had the threat of fists or even worse behind it.

      ‘Did you know a man, a tally clerk, named Normie Grime?’

      ‘No,’ said The Dwarf, quick off the mark for once.

      White glanced at him, the mouth tightening still further till the thin lips disappeared; then he looked back at Malone. ‘Gary’s forgotten. Yeah, we knew him. We worked with him once on a job over at Walsh Bay.’

      ‘When did you last see him?’

      ‘I dunno. Before Christmas, maybe, I dunno. What’s up with him?’

      ‘He’s dead,’ said Malone, ‘that’s what’s up with him. Murdered.’

      The four men were silent for a moment. Beyond their circle there was the rattle of a chain, a man’s shouting, the hum of a fork-lift as it sped past. Heat came up from the concrete in an eye-searing blaze, was reflected off the red metal containers, pressed down from the glaring sky; Malone could feel himself being boiled and shrunken by it, his skin closing up, suffocating him. Between the bow of one ship and the stern of another he caught a glimpse of water, but it looked like burning glass. This summer Lisa had insisted he start wearing a hat, he was developing sun cancers on his cheeks, but he had left the hat in the car. A gull flew overhead, mewing harshly like an Outback crow.

      Then White said, ‘What’s it got to do with us?’

      ‘We thought you might be interested,’ said Clements, taking over the bowling. ‘We understand he came from Melbourne, the same as you.’

      ‘There’s about three million people come from Melbourne. We dunno most of ’em. What sorta shit are youse trying to lay on us?’

      ‘How come you can run for union office with a criminal record? You’ve done time, right?’

      ‘I been rehabilitated,’ said White, and beside him a slow grin spread across The Dwarf’s baby face. ‘My probation officer got me a second chance.’

      ‘Who’s your probation officer?’

      ‘He’s dead,’ said White, and the smile on The Dwarf’s face was now fixed like a scar. ‘The poor bugger just give up and died. I got word only a week ago. He come from Melbourne, too, one of the three million.’

      The heat and White’s insolence were getting to Malone; but he kept the lid on himself. ‘We want you, we can always get you through the WLU, right?’

      ‘Next month I’ll be the secretary, sitting right there in the offices. Drop in. You won’t be welcome, but drop in anyway.’

      Malone got back into the car and Clements went round to get in on the other side. He paused and looked across the pale grey glare of the roof at The Dwarf. ‘You running for office, too?’

      The giant widened his grin. ‘Nah, I’m just Snow’s campaign manager. I’ll help count the votes when they come in.’

      ‘Is there gunna be any need for that? I thought bastards like you would have the votes already counted.’

      As they drove away Clements looked as if he might snap the steering wheel with his furious hands. ‘Jesus, how are they let run loose?’

      ‘You heard the man. Rehabilitation. It’s bullshit, of course, but they’re getting away with it. But I don’t want us getting mixed up in union politics, we’ve got enough on our hands. What d’you think? You think they had anything to do with Scungy’s murder?’

      ‘I dunno. The Dwarf looks big enough to have carted Scungy into your place under one arm. But you notice his feet? Tiny, at least for his size. Wayne Murrow said СКАЧАТЬ