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lap. The woman with the weight problem was sitting bolt upright and trying to draw herself away from Erica as if she smelled bad. I stood up beside Geoff’s chair and nodded down at Erica who was lighting a cigarette. She puffed the smoke over Mal’s shoulder.
    ‘Where’s Bill Mountain?’ she said.

5
    ‘B ILL who?’ Mal’s voice was not much above a whisper, but his fear made the sound carry.
    ‘We’re talking about play-acting,’ I said in his ear. ‘About the Bill who played Bruce Worthington in the same show that you played Henry Majors in.’
    ‘Christ. Who’re you?’
    ‘It doesn’t matter who he is,’ Erica said. ‘Where’s Bill, you little shit?’
    It would have been amusing in another context—four foot whatever Erica calling a man ‘little’. Mal
was
small and he was scared, but something about the quick movement of his eyes over Erica’s face and the half-head turn to check on me told me that he wasn’t dumb.
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said loudly. ‘Geoff ….’
    ‘Geoff’s taking a break. Listen, mate, you’re right in it. I’ve got a photo of you signing for a car you forgot to return. You took your sunnies off to sign. Mistake, that. It’s a police matter if that’s the way you want to play it, but there is another way.’
    ‘Stop yapping, Hardy.’ Erica helped herself to a cigarette from the packet on the table and did a pretty good job of looking tough. Mal’s quick, snake-like eyes moved again; they took in her act and Geoff, who was slumped in his chair rubbing his chin.
    ‘What other way?’ he said.
    ‘You got Bill Mountain into the game, we know that. Now he’s missing.’
    ‘I know he’s fucking missing. S’cuse me, Glad.’ Glad’s second chin wobbled as she acknowledged the apology. She was over her fright and getting interested. Shefumbled a cigarette from what had become the communal pack and Erica lit her up. Mal watched the women sourly.
    ‘I know he’s missing. So’s the bloody car. Why d’you think they’re after
me?
Why d’you think I’ve got Geoff along, not that he seems to be any bloody good.’
    ‘Geoff’s all right,’ I said. ‘He’s young, that’s all. We have to have a talk, Mal. Here or somewhere else?’
    ‘I don’t want to talk.’
    ‘It’s me or the cops. Those pictures and the registration form with your disguised handwriting on it’ll send you to gaol. And if you’ve been around as much as I think you have, you’ll know that gaol’s not a safe place if the wrong people dislike you.’
    He kept his eyes fixed on my face while he felt for his drink. I moved it across for him, and he picked it up and took a sip. Glad sipped her drink too, and she and Erica puffed on their cigarettes. It was getting to be quite a cheery little party with only Geoff and me not drinking up and smoking, but then, we were on duty. Mal was doing some quick thinking.
    ‘I might as well use you as an escort home,’ he said. ‘You seem to know what you’re doing. If you’re looking for Mountain you’re looking for the car too. Right?’
    ‘Not necessarily.’
    ‘The car could stay missing?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘That’d certainly help.’ He finished his drink and pushed back his chair. Glad finished her drink, and Erica butted her cigarette. Geoff looked at me, and I stood up. Mal surveyed the bar carefully to see if anyone was interested in us. No-one was. He stood up and squared his shoulders, looking like Henry Majors again.
    ‘Where’s your car?’
    ‘In the car park.’
    ‘Good.’
    He marched out; Glad tried to hang onto his arm but he shook her off. Geoff brought up the rear. Erica didn’t tryto hang onto my arm. Mal looked nervously out at the al fresco drinkers, and hurried down the steps to the car park. We followed him to a white Holden which he unlocked. He handed the keys to Geoff.
    ‘Where are we going?’ I said.
    ‘Woolloomooloo.’
    As Glad was in an arm-holding mood I gave her mine; Erica