Kick Back

Eleven

Pedersen arrived twenty minutes late. He came into Wyatt’s room at the Gatehouse bringing with him a smell of Chinese food and industrial toxins. He shook Wyatt’s hand, crossed immediately to the window, and prowled the perimeter of the room. Habit, Wyatt thought. Pedersen was thirty-five and had spent half his life in small spaces-cells and cheap rented rooms.

Pedersen finally sat on the edge of the bed and crossed one leg over the other. He wore an oiled black japara, jeans, thick socks and-a vain touch-expensive, soft ankle boots. A John Deere cap was pushed back on his head. Wyatt heard keys chime on a key-ring on his belt. Pedersen had the smallest mouth Wyatt had ever seen on anyone, and a plain, forgettable face, but he seemed to be harder and more alert than Wyatt remembered. Perhaps, like many ex-cons, Pedersen had built up his body in prison and maintained it when he got out.

‘Beer? Scotch?’ Wyatt said. He was drinking tea.

‘Got any mineral water? My guts.’

Wyatt tensed at that. He opened the little refrigerator. ‘Soda.’

‘That’ll do,’ Pedersen said.

He reached, and Wyatt grabbed the outstretched arm and pushed the sleeve up above the elbow.

Pedersen jerked back, tugging at the sleeve. ‘Fuck off, Wyatt. I went off it five years ago. Cold turkey. And I’ve gone off the booze.’

Wyatt held out the bottle of soda. Pedersen took it, his face tight. ‘Where’re the others?’ he asked.

‘On their way.’

Pedersen drained the little soda bottle. Wyatt said nothing, wondering what Pedersen would do. He never felt the strain of waiting, of long silences. Pedersen scowled, as though he knew he had to start sounding convincing and resented it. He’s fresh out of gaol, Wyatt thought, and if he’s working again already it’s because he needs the funds or he wants to prove to himself it was a fluke he got caught.

Pedersen looked at him sourly. ‘You got me here early’

‘Fill me in. The woman, the money, everything.’

‘She knows the money’s there,’ Pedersen said, his voice bored. ‘She can’t get at it, so she hires herself a pro.’

‘Like you.’

‘I’m good, Wyatt. Unlucky, that’s all.’

Wyatt nodded. It was true that Pedersen was good. And, like all the others, he explained everything in terms of good or bad luck. ‘What I’m getting at is, how come this classy female lawyer takes a pro aside and asks him to crack her partner’s safe?’

Pedersen shrugged. ‘Nothing surprises me.’

‘Try’

Pedersen breathed out heavily, as though bored. ‘She doesn’t seem bent,’ he said finally. ‘I’d say this is a one-off job for her.’

There was a knock on the door. ‘Damn,’ Wyatt said. He got up and opened it and stood back as Hobba and Anna Reid entered the room.

‘Nippy out,’ Hobba said, hunching his shoulders and rubbing his hands together. He seemed to be unsettled by the Reid woman’s proximity and luminous looks. After introducing her he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, his bulky frame consuming it.

Wyatt ignored him and watched Anna Reid. She examined the room and nodded briefly at Pedersen. Then, regarding Wyatt expressionlessly, she unbuttoned a bulky, broad-shouldered leather jacket. When she turned around, looking for somewhere to hang it, her black hair swung with the movement, gleaming with light. She smelt of shampoo and scented soap. She was tall, and Wyatt had an impression of physical and mental agility. Saying nothing, he took the jacket from her and draped it over the back of a chair. She nodded guardedly and sat far apart from Pedersen on the edge of the bed.

Hobba opened his tin and fumbled for a mint, then offered the tin. ‘Anyone? Anna?’

Her look said he had to be joking. She turned to Wyatt. ‘I had to cancel something to come here. I don’t know anything about you, but they say you’re good, so it looks like I’ve got no choice.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve put myself on the line, I’ve handed you a dream of a job, now it’s your turn.’

Her voice was low and deep, tinged with the impatience Wyatt had noticed that afternoon. Perhaps she was starting to regret this, was measuring him by his down-at-heel partners. He said, ‘Explain the job to me.’

‘Haven’t the others told you?’

‘I want to hear it from you.’

The voice was low and bitter. ‘I’m in trouble. I owe someone a lot of money, I can’t pay him, and he’s threatening me.’

Wyatt watched her. He could see a bleakness under the sleek exterior. ‘Tell me about the money,’ he said. ‘We don’t want cheques.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s cash,’ she said. ‘This isn’t the sort of deal Finn puts through his books.’

‘But three hundred thousand dollars? That’s some kickback.’

‘We’re talking about a ten-storey office block in the city,’ she snapped, ‘not someone’s bathroom extension.’

Wyatt nodded. ‘All right. But who’s getting the money? Why cash? Banks report large transactions.’

‘What do you care? I don’t imagine your share is going anywhere legitimate.’

Hobba spoke for the first time. ‘Groundwork.’

They were all looking at her now and she curled her lip. ‘Oh, I am relieved,’ she said, putting her hand to her heart. ‘Just imagine if I’d put myself in the hands of amateurs. The money goes to a fucking charity, all right? They go to the bank and say they’ve had a successful fund-raising. Then it’s moved sideways.’

Hobba and Pedersen grinned, enjoying this, but Wyatt kept pushing. ‘Split four ways, we get seventy-five thousand each. Not bad, but not huge, either. Are you going to risk everything for that?’

‘Until Max brought you and Hobba in on this,’ she snapped, ‘my share was twice as much.’ She brought her voice under control. ‘It pays my debt, so I’ll take a chance.’

‘Tell me about Finn.’

‘He’s a sleaze. He gloats. I’d like to rip him off.’

Then she smiled. It held a challenge, as if she were daring them to question her motive. Wyatt watched her, assessing the personal factor. In his experience, simple greed was a reliable motive, revenge wasn’t. There are well-buried secrets here, he thought, none of them good.

‘Okay,’ he said, still pursuing her, ‘he’s due to hand over three hundred thousand dollars, but someone comes along and rips it off. What’s he going to do?’

‘He can’t do anything. He can’t afford to draw attention to himself. The thing is, he can absorb the loss. He won’t like it but that’s what he’ll do.’

There was a pause. Wyatt said, ‘Describe what happens on Friday.’

‘The money arrives lunchtime. Finn hands it over late that evening, about ten o’clock.’

‘Today’s Monday. Doesn’t leave us much time.’

‘So let’s get on with it.’

‘How do we do the hit?’ Wyatt said.

She stared at him. ‘Why ask me? Ask Max, he’s the safe expert.’

This will be her plan, Wyatt thought, watching Pedersen. Pedersen cleared his throat. ‘Anna turns off the burglar alarms when she leaves work on Friday. We break in at six, six-thirty, cutting the alarm system so it doesn’t look like an inside job, blow the safe, then split in different cars to confuse possible witnesses. I take the money to my place and we divvy up there.’

No thanks, Wyatt thought-potential there for a sweet cross. He automatically rejected plans that others made. The only plans he relied on were his own. He looked at Hobba, Pedersen and the Reid woman, assessing them quickly. Every job was the same: there was someone he could trust, someone he’d never met, someone who could finger him, someone who might try a cross. The ones to watch were Pedersen and Anna Reid. There didn’t seem to be anything between them, but if they did cross him, he’d kill them. Pedersen would know that.

‘Well?’ Anna said.

‘No good.’ He began counting on his fingers. ‘Security patrols, noise, people on the premises after dark.’ He looked at her. ‘Plus which, you’re an automatic suspect.’

They were silent. Then mints rattled in Hobba’s tin. ‘How about we intercept it?’ he asked, looking around at them.

‘Intercept?’ Pedersen said.

‘Yeah, you know, find out the route when it’s being delivered or after it’s handed over, block the road, grab the cash, you ride by on your Honda… ‘

Wyatt was watching Anna Reid. Her face was irritated now, but for a moment there’d been something like panic there. He heard her say, ‘What’s with all this macho stuff? Do you want the whole world to see? If they use a security service, are you going to shoot it out with them? God!’ she said, shaking her head. She looked at Wyatt. ‘What about you? Have you been watching too many films?’

Her green eyes were challenging and complicated and unimpressed, and he wondered what exactly was eating her. ‘Only re-runs of Get Smart,’ he said. ‘Yeah, I agree, a street snatch is out. What we do is hit your office Friday afternoon when you’re at work.’

More irritation. ‘That’s idiotic’

‘Not if we’re quick and look legitimate from the outside.’

Hobba was looking interested. He turned to Anna. ‘What kind of safe is it?’

She shrugged. ‘Just a safe.’

‘It’s a little Chubb,’ Wyatt said.

That made her sit up. She put her head on one side, concentrating on his face. ‘The waiting room,’ she said, nodding slowly. ‘This afternoon.’

Wyatt held her stare. ‘We’ll tie everyone up,’ he said. ‘If you’re one of the victims, you won’t be suspected.’

‘What about clients? What if I have to go out? I need to know roughly when you’ll do it.’

Wyatt waited. Finally he said, ‘All right. Cancel your late afternoon clients. If Finn has a client with him, too bad. We’ll hit at four-fifteen. Will you all be there?’

She nodded. ‘Finn goes out for coffee at three-thirty, but he only stays away ten minutes.’

‘Four-fifteen?’ Pedersen said. ‘Are you mad?’

Wyatt turned to him. ‘Later. Okay?’

‘Well, Jesus.’

Anna was smiling, going over the idea in her mind. ‘Finn will think he’s been hit by someone he does business with. I like it.’ The smile faded. ‘But what about my share? There I am, tied up, while you lot disappear.’

Hobba and Pedersen seemed to grow alert at that. Wyatt looked at them warningly. He turned to the woman again. ‘You’re the finger,’ he said. ‘You can put all three of us away. We won’t rip you off. I’ll pay you myself on Saturday.’

She gave him another complicated look. He saw the motion in her throat as she swallowed. ‘How will you get in and out without attracting attention?’

When Wyatt didn’t reply she frowned and looked round at the others. Finally Hobba answered her. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘it’s best if you don’t know. That helps protect you, and you’ll behave more convincingly when the time comes.’

‘Oh great. Shall I scream when the time comes?’

Wyatt handed her a pen and a scrap of paper. ‘Give me your address and phone number.’

‘Why do I get the feeling this is no longer my job?’ she said.

They ignored her, watching her write. Then Wyatt pocketed the note and crossed to the door and stood there, facing her, his hand on the door knob. She got up and walked towards him, half amused, half angry.

‘Don’t try to contact us,’ he said, ‘and we won’t contact you, unless there’s a hitch. If all goes well I’ll let you know on Saturday where to find me.’

Her eyes were half closed. ‘Won’t you be here?’

She waited. When Wyatt didn’t reply, she gestured irritably and left the room.