Coasting Chapter 9
Darkness fell on Lytton, they parked down the road from the shed in the shadows, Sunday traffic had ceased in the area and nothing moved on O’Keeffe Street or its canals, and they settled in for a long wait, all night if necessary. The plan was simple wait until they came out and catch them on the hop. The rain that had threatened to set in for the night blew out to sea, and the low cloud obscured the moon making the circumstances perfect for a surprise. Good fortune stayed with them when a car approached drove up to the gate and the driver blasted on the horn. There was immediate movement from inside the shed, the main door rolled opened and three men walked out. And for a second there it was as large as life: Charlie’s Bentley.
“Here we go lads.” Said Charlie and off they went leaving Lora with the car. They stayed in the shadows, the noise of the roller door covering the sounds of their movements, and they weren’t seen until the last second. Charlie let go with the shotgun, blasting the windshield and showering the car occupants with shattered glass and shot; the driver tried to take off and Brad blasted the drivers window with the other shotgun, ripping the side of the drivers face off, he gunned the accelerator and the Holden Calais leapt across the road bounced off the kerb, and crashed through a low rail and plunged into the canal; the three remaining Arabs without the cover of the car raced back to the building. Doc let a quick burst of the Scorpion go, cutting down one rag-head the other two got back to the shed, but the roller door was slow coming down and Charlie, Doc and Brad were inside the compound and under the door before it closed. Abdul was running to the back of the shed towards what looked like an office, the other Arab was ducking and weaving between the cars; Doc’s Scorpion spat a quick half second blast, bringing down the nearest Rag-head.
“STOP!” Yelled Charlie. “Stop or I’ll cut you in half you fucking fucker.” He fired his shotgun and took out the window directly above Abdul, the window crashed around him and he raised his hands and froze. The silence that followed was deafening. Charlie looked at his Bentley. “Bring him back here Doc.”
Abdul was shitting himself. “What do you want?” he asked trembling more than prepared to cooperate.
“I want the keys to my car.” Charlie said evenly despite the adrenaline pumping through his body. Abdul pulled the keys from his pocket and handed them to Charlie. He walked around to the back of the Bentley and flicked the remote the lid clicked open and Charlie opened the boot. It was empty.
“Where’s the bags?” Charlie asked.
“Bags? What bags?” Abdul asked genuinely ignorant.
“When you stole my car this morning there were two bags in here.”
“NO, no I didn’t steal the car.”
“How did it get here if you didn’t steal it then?”
“Paul stole it.” Abdul revealed, “and I bought it from him.” He continued, smiling, “No bags.”
“And who the fuck is Paul?” Charlie demanded to know.
Abdul shrugged “Paul is Paul, I met him in Woodford. That’s all I know.
“And where will I find Paul?” Charlie asked.
Abdul shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
This was where the brittle, fragile grasp that Abdul had on the situation ceased. Charlie still held the Winchester in his hand and he squeezed the trigger, blowing off Abdul’s left foot.
Brad jumped into the Jag that was parked behind the Bentley and reversed out of the shed followed by Charlie behind the wheel of his beloved Bentleigh once again. The Doctor walked back to Lora who had remained in his Mercedes, and he followed the Bentleys tail lights back to the highway.
The gunfight at the OK Canal lasted less than a minute.
Charlie headed south down the M1 for the Gold Coast it had been a full, very full day and he was surprised that it was only eight o’clock, as he hurried south through a wet Springwood he phoned Doc in the car behind him.
“Doc while I’m in the mood I’d like to go and see Cooper, and get my money. I’m sure he’s got it.”
“Lora has addresses for the truck owner and the Jag owners too; wanna pay them a visit as well?”
“Why not; are they all on the South Coast?”
“Yeah within minutes of each other.”
“Get the feeling we might be gate crashing a party?”
But they were wrong; when they got to Russell’s place it was quiet and locked up lights were out no one home. “Who’s next on the list?” Charlie wanted to know.
“Peter Dawson, he owns the Jag.” Lora told him and a few minutes later they were outside his place. For someone who lived the life he did Dawson had little in the way of security, bordering on none at all; the Doctor was in his back yard in a few minutes. Dawson was on the phone, he was alone, at least no one was in the room with him, a stereo was playing and he was oblivious to the doctors prying eyes.
Doc spied on him for a few minutes then went back reported to Charlie. “Someone’s in there, might be Dawson.”
“Lets find out. Off you go Lora.” She walked to the intercom and pressed a button on the wall. Almost immediately there was a reply.
“Who’s this?” Dawson asked.
“Hi, I’m looking for Peter Dawson.” She said, as if butter wouldn’t melt.
“And who wants him?”
“My name is Jenny Taylor and I’m a friend of Paul’s. I was told that you might know…” that was all she had to say Dawson opened the gate with a remote control and Lora strolled into the front yard and a second later he appeared at the front door and Brad flattened him.
“Go and wait in the car Lora, we won’t be long.” Charlie said. Dawson was bundled into his front room.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!” Dawson demanded to know.
“I’m the bloke asking the questions. Are you Peter Dawson?”
“You know I am.”
“Good we’ve got the right bloke then. Where’s Paul.
“I don’t know!”
“Wrong answer.” The shotgun made all of them jump.
“Fuck, Charlie; that’s loud,” commented Brad.
“You’ve got one foot left; now where is Paul?” Charlie repeated
“I don’t know. I don’t, He’s done a runner with my car and ten grand of my fuckin’ money.”
“What’s his last name?”
“Williams, Paul Williams.”
“Charlie looked down at the sodden mush that used to be Dolly’s foot. “I’d get that seen to,” he said and they left.
It was Sunday night Gav was settling down for an early night, he’d blown up the lovely Rachel his inflatable girlfriend and was just finishing cleaning his teeth when, there was a knock at the front door. He had the lovely Rachel dressed in his favourite underwear and quickly turned off the light to his bedroom and closed the door.
“I won’t be long.” He said.
He opened the front door and on the other side of the security screen stood a vision. Lora gave him her best come on smile.
“I’m sorry to trouble you,” she said, “but I’m looking for Gavin White.”
‘That’s me, that’s me, I’m Gavin White.” Said Gav, hardly believing his luck. He opened the door and Brad flattened him.
Brad was quickly followed by Doc and Charlie; Lora knew the drill and returned to the Mercedes.
“Who the fuck are you?” It seemed to be a common question.
“Do you know Paul Williams?” Charlie asked.
“Paul and Dave yeah I know them,” said Gav always prepared to tell more than required.
“Do you know where they are?” Charlie asked his finger on the trigger.
Gav shrugged. “No.”
Brad was ready for it this time, but the blast still made him jump.
“I don’t, I don’t; I paid for their hire car with me credit card.”
“Coolangatta, this afternoon.”
“Where were they going?”
“I don’t know, I swear I don’t. They gave me a grand, told me they’d call me.”
“Where you phone?”
“In the bedroom.”
“Get it Brad.” Brad went into the bedroom and returned with the phone and a smile on his face.
“Looks like your girl friend has gone down on you.” Brad said Charlie and Doc looked into the bedroom,
“Not your night is it?” Charlie said smiling for the first time that evening. He threw the phone to Gav. “Call him.” Gav opened his phone and selected Dave’s number and put the phone to his ear, it rang a couple of times.
“Dave? Dave its Gav. I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you.”
“Remember this afternoon we had a brief telephone conversation, you asked me if I knew who you were. Remember that? Charlie asked
“Yeah, I remember it.” the voice on the other end said
“And I said I didn’t. Didn’t I?”
“Well now I do!”