When Yesterday Comes Calling, page 14
`What about him?' he snapped. `I told you I'd heard the name, nothing more.'
`He might be here, Jerry.' I waited but he said nothing. `No matter. I'm calling about a story you did a few years ago about organised crime.'
The relief in his voice was transparent. Jerry Carney was more afraid of Mladenovic, senior or other, than the mob. Why? I didn't know but I sure as hell planned to find out. Just not right now.
`Yeah, I did. Didn't go anywhere but.'
`But did you ever get to meet any of those guys? Like go to their weddings or bar mitzvahs or anything?'
`No, I didn't know them that well. And don't want to. These are bad people, Harry. Cut their own mother's throats they would and for not much. All I ever did—' His pride echoed down the phone. `All I did was have a few beers with them. Why?' I tried to explain without explaining. `They'll never give you a story, mate. It's me they trust; you'd just wind up with a knife in your throat if you get inside a hundred metres of them.'
I changed tack. `I'm not after a story from them, Jerry, I might have a story for them and I could use their help.'
`For them? And you want the fucking mob to help you? What are you smoking, Harry?'
`I can't tell you any more, but I'm desperate. My life's down the shitter without their help.'
`It's down the shitter with it as well, my friend. Sorry I can't help you.'
I'd had enough. Time to pull out the big guns. To tell the world about how Jerry's network was involved in the killing of his star TV performer, and the threats to her niece's life. Then there was its involvement in the marketing of a supplement that would have destroyed a generation of children around the world. Plus, the loss of an entire team of its filmmakers over the side of a mountain in Kashmir. I hadn't called him out on any of it. Now I did.
After that he was far more accommodating. Nasty but accommodating. I explained we would wait for his call and that it had better be soon. I explained that we would need about six hours to get to the arranged meeting. I wasn't going to leave the relative safety of an anonymous hotel room in a different city until I was sure of a deal.
25
By the time I'd finished organising it I was utterly exhausted. I hit the bed early without waiting for the take-way food Anna ordered and slept like my life depended on it. I woke to coffee fumes. Anna wasn't by the bed but she'd slept in it. She'd slept in a chair the night before, so we were getting closer. It was probably because I was almost comatose after talking to Jerry Carney, so I didn't get my hopes up. I was still slow blinking and sipping when she came back and dumped my computer on my lap.
`Something there, I think.'
`You didn't look?'
`No. It's your computer.' She walked across to the window and stood staring out, shoulders hunched.
`Anna,' I pleaded. We were back six months when she didn't trust me to say it was day or night. `We're in this together.'
`You should have thought of that when you kidnapped my animals.'
`I had to. You refused—' There was no point fighting with her. She'd believe what she wanted to believe. I turned to the computer. It was Jerry. He'd taken my threats seriously, or he had a better rapport with the mobster he knew than he was letting on. I suspected the latter. He'd arranged a meeting after lunch that day. At three. Christ! It was nine already. I leapt out of bed yelling at Anna, who was already dressed, to book a flight to Melbourne no later than eleven. Any airline, any seats. I threw on my clothes and we pelted down to check out and get a cab to the airport. I finalised the tickets in the cab. They were business class. The way I was going I'd have spent my life savings before we got back home.
We just made the flight and it wasn't until we leaned back in the plane that I explained what it was all about. I did it by writing it down in the small notebook I always carried. At the top of the page I wrote - TOP SECRET - then the details underneath. When she looked up her eyes were like saucers.
`Really? The—' I put my hand over her mouth. She snatched it away but said no more, just mimed, `Why?'
`Walls have ears,' I said.
`Not that `why’?'
I started writing again. It was too complicated to explain in a notebook but I didn't want to risk anyone getting into my computer or phone. I was more paranoid about this than I'd ever been in my life and that said something. All I wrote was, tell you later. Her face set hard. This was getting so irritating that I thought about letting her visit the bloody animals but the risks to Kitty and her family were too high. I would just have to put up with the hostility.
We landed in plenty of time to meet Jerry's criminal acquaintance but there was no going anywhere between the appointment at three and our arrival. I didn't want to take even the remotest chance of us running across the Mladenovic brothers. The meeting place was in Moonee Ponds, home of many a criminal excess. Like murders in broad daylight. I hoped we wouldn't add to the count.
I picked up the car out of long-term parking and we drove to a cafe on the main strip. Nothing flash but we gave the receptionist the code Jerry had given me and were led to a back room. I hadn't expected to see Jerry there but he was. Probably a good thing. He introduced us to a tall man with dark air and a heavy beard shadow. He looked like a cartoon version of a gangster. Rollo was his name. Another cliché.
He obviously wasn't anywhere near the head of the organisation but I wasn't going to be picky. All I hoped was that somehow he could keep us safe. I gave Jerry a look. His shrug told me it was him or nothing. As Rollo gave Anna a searching examination I managed to remind Jerry that I needed to talk to this bloke alone. He leaned over to the lip-licking Rollo and whispered in his ear. Rollo nodded and Jerry left. The man leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out full length, and eyed me off. This guy had to be an actor. I felt I was in a scene from the fucking Godfather.
`Jerry said youse had something for us.'
Even the voice was a cliché. But I played along. We had no choice.
`Did he also say we needed some help?' I said.
`Yeah.'
`Then can we talk?'
`Better be good but.'
I told him we were in the sights of some people who had already killed two of our friends. That didn't seem to affect him at all. I suppose that was pretty common in his circles. I explained we needed protection from these people.
`Who are they and what's in it for us?' he said, not even raising an eyebrow.
I played my big guns. `We believe there's an international organised crime organisation that's going to muscle in on the scene here very soon.'
`Yeah, right. And why do you think we might be interested in that? Are youz sayin' we're organised criminals?' He grinned, showing a mouthful of large, very white teeth.
`No, I'm not.' I gestured at the door. `Jerry did. That's why we're here. If you're not interested—'
`No, no. No need to get uptight, mate. We're all good here. And any friend of Jerry's is a friend of…well, never mind.'
The clichés had fallen away and an articulate, well-spoken man emerged. I had to press on with the slight advantage I had. That I knew something about an unknown rival that might mess with his business.
`I heard this crowd is very big in Europe and is expanding its business.'
`Where did you hear it? Look mate, there's always someone trying to muscle in on other people's territory. We see that all the time. What makes you think this mob might be any different from all the others?'
`I checked them out onli—'
He roared laughing. `Oh, yeah? Really?'
`Have you heard the name, Mladenovic?'
His grin disappeared instantly. Then he stood up and walked to the door. I was sure he was going to throw us out but no. He called Jerry who came running, spilling his coffee down his jumper.
`Marisa,' yelled Rollo, `three, cappuccino? Yeah, cappuccinos.' He sat down again and turned to Jerry. `Hey man, why didn't you tell me this man was talking about Mladenovic?'
`I didn't know,' protested Jerry, giving me the eye.
`No, Jerry didn't know. As I said I looked the bloke up and he's big time in Serbia apparently.'
`So how did you find out he want to move in here.'
It was obvious that his Mladenovic wasn't Milos, Anna's grandfather. Milos had been dead for thirty years so was no threat. I decided to tell him the story as it unfolded from Kashmir to now. The attempts on my life including the part about David Bale and Milan Pavlovic. He almost fell off his chair laughing when I told the story of Bale and the market stallholder’s daughter. He sneered when I mentioned Pavlovic.
`Stupid poofter,' was how he described him.
I continued with me being run off the road, and Wendy's death. I left out Patrick because I didn't want these people looking at anything connected to Milos.
`So how did you link those things to Mladenovic?'
`Wendy, my boss's PA, was the only one who knew I was going to be on that road that night, and it turned out that her boyfriend was a guy called Luka Mladenovic.'
`So you looked him up and—?'
`He's Vlado Mladenovic's son.'
He grinned at me, head on the side. `That means Mladenovic's going to move in here then does it? Big step to take without any evidence.'
`There's a rumour that things are tight for him in Serbia and he's looking for fresh fields a bit out of the way for a while. And he has a cousin here.' I waved my hand towards Anna who'd been sitting silent and unmoving the entire time, even while Rollo ogled her. `He might be looking for legitimacy through her. Like making her marry his son.'
He nodded, thoughtfully. `Makes sense. But why's he trying to kill you?'
`Apart from me objecting to his son marrying Anna—' She gave me a cold look. ‘I don't know. Unless he thinks I know something about him and his family that's a threat. Which I don't. But what it does mean is that he's been planning something for a while. Since before I went to Kashmir at least.'
`And how long's that been?'
`Two months, more since it was planned.'
The more I told the more it looked like my case was strong without ever letting on a word about Milos and his deadly legacy.
`So what do you want from us?' said Rollo.
`Some kind of safe harbour.'
`While we run him out of town? Is that it?'
`Or the police catch up with Luka and any others who—who are in his team.' I only just caught myself from spilling the beans on the goon we'd caught breaking into Anna's house. The one she'd shot. The police certainly wanted to talk to us some more about that but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Doing that would be like yelling come and get us to people like Luka and Bentford.
Anna spoke for the first time. `Can you help us?'
It was a plaintive plea and as with Tom Kelling, it got results. Rollo had an apartment in the nearby suburb of Essendon. We could stay there until it was safe for us to come out, with certain provisions. If we ever told anyone about it or allowed anyone to find out, it would be the last thing we ever did.
I was to leave my hire car outside the cafe and Rollo would drive us to the apartment. I had an extraordinary sense of déjà vu. It was as if I was living my sister's nightmare from so long ago. One she never woke up from. I hoped against hope it wouldn't be mine.
The apartment was small, on the fourth floor of a new tower near the railway station. Until the door closed behind us I hadn't realised I'd been holding my breath for at least an hour. Or it felt like that. I dropped into a chair, closed my eyes and concentrated on just breathing for a long time. I heard Anna pottering about in one of the two small bedrooms, then silence.
I was on my feet in a heartbeat and in there. She was lying on the bed, her eyes closed. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes down her temples and into her hair. She must have heard me but didn't open them. I crept back out again.
`No, don't go,' she said, so faintly that I barely heard her. I turned and sat in a chair by the bed as she spoke. `Is this our life from now on, Harry? Forever on the run, forever dodging bullets and murderers? It feels like I'm having to pay for all the awful things my mother and my grandfather did.' She was silent for a time. `And maybe I should.'
`No Anna. It's—none of it's your fault. All this was hatched up before you were even born.'
`But I lived a life of luxury that was the result of crimes. Vicious, evil crimes that killed thousands of people, including your sister. And now your friends. And we've had to join up with other murdering criminals just to save our skins. I think if one of the Mladenovics wants to marry me for the money, perhaps I should just let him. That would be the end of it.'
`Don't be stupid. It wouldn't be the end of anything except you, and me. These people are vicious, murdering bastards who won't stop being murdering bastards because you're dead. They destroy lives, always have and always will. You can see that your grandfather, his father before him and your mother were all cut from the same cloth. You are not.'
`How do you know that? I'm still young, there's still time for me to turn bad.'
`Oh, pshaw.' She smiled slightly at me using her expletive. `No, Anna. I think this is a way to be grateful to your mother.'
`What?' She sat up.
`Yes. If you think about it, her hating you so much meant you had almost nothing to do with her. So her malignant personality had little or no effect on you.'
The more I thought about it the more convinced I was. Anna's mother had so distanced herself from her children that she had no real influence on them. They were never groomed to be part of the family evil.
26
Eleanor on the other hand had been heavily influenced by her ruthless father. He had encouraged her ruthlessness as it echoed his own. He even discarded his other daughter, Geraldine, because she wasn't ruthless enough. I was willing to bet that Vlado Mladenovic had been a very attentive father to both of his sons. He needed and wanted them to be like him if for no other reason than he needed them to take over the business.
Whether Eleanor was so narcissistic that she never saw herself as fading, or whether she hadn't got that far, who knew. Maybe she just assumed her children would automatically slip into her way of thinking. Whatever it was, she'd failed to secure the future.
`What's your brother like, Anna?'
She told me he was a kind boy, who was terrified of both his parents and as soon as he found a presentable girl with friendly parents who were kind to him, he married her. Anna only met them a few times as they were American but knew they were well off and nice enough. He'd fled to the US the day after the wedding and never returned. Apparently, he very quickly fathered two children.
`I think the first one might have been in the oven by the wedding day,' Anna said. `Why do you ask?
`Just showing how your mother's neglect had the effect of breaking the curse, if you can call it that.'
`So why are we here, holed up in a mobster's flat hiding from my murderous relatives?'
`Because of something your grandfather did, not because of who you are. My sister, my oldest sister's, life was upended just like this, not because of something her brother-in-law did, but because her husband was trying to set it right. She paid a price for his good deed, but her dying would have served no purpose whatsoever. Her kids are growing up safely even if they don't know about their real father. We do what we have to do.'
We sat looking at each other, a truce in the war between us, against the bigger enemy. It was cut short by the bleep of an incoming message onto my computer. I nodded at Anna and went back into the trenches. It was Beverley. Her daughter had just got back to her with the name of Tom Kelling's granddaughter's fiancé. A denizen of English high society and the son of a gangster, Michael Bentford.
She apologised for the delay which was because she had to track down the girl's name which wasn't Kelling. I punched my forehead. Dumb. Of course. She was his daughter's child. Her name was Emily Graystoke and she was twenty-eight, fourteen years younger than her fiancé. She was also wealthy through her father's family and the stepdaughter of the influential French politician, M. Jacques Soubain.
I bet it was Soubain Michael was interested in so imagine his delight when the collateral was a billion or more Australian dollars. It seemed that Emily's mother was not happy about the engagement particularly after the gossip press had dug out his connections to the Serbian Mladenovic family. They'd had a field day apparently. The Soubains went into hiding and Michael Bentford disappeared.
God love the English gutter press. They did a real number on Michael Bentford including speculation that his foreigner father had been responsible for his mother's `accident'. All this came after his engagement and explained why he came here himself. It seemed his lovely fiancée had broken it off and fled back to Mummy in France. It was simply too hot for him at home. I was still breathing heavily when Anna leaned over my shoulder. I breathed even heavier when she kissed my ear and apologised for being a brat.
`I get it. Really I do. And thank you.'
'Thank you?'
`Yes, for saving my girls and Charles and Billy. Now, even if the Mladenovics get us at least they'll survive. Won't they?'
`Of course they will and those bastards won't get us.'
But I had no idea why they wouldn't. I had no plan of how to get away from them. We couldn't rely on Rollo's mob either. They had no idea what the Mladenovics were doing. A vague suggestion of normal mob behaviour wouldn't cut it for long and anyway, that wasn't what was going on here. A bit of research would soon show we weren't being entirely honest.
More and more I thought we, or least I, would have to take it right up to the enemy. Make them come after us and be ready when they did. Like we did with Anna's business. Except that was easier. They were babes in the woods next to this lot.
After Anna and I consolidated our making up we ordered some food via Rollo's contact. We also found a drawer full of `burner' phones. There, no doubt, for other people who didn't want to be found.
