Читать книгу Sold - Blair Denholm - Страница 12

Gary’s mobile beeped. A text from Foss lit up the screen:

Meet at the pub tonight?

Gary replied:

Yes pls Foss. I need ur opinion on something. 7 at Castaways ok?

Foss:

Cool. C ya then.

Gary figured Foss would say to go to the cops but hoped the clever prick would have a better alternative. Getting the cops involved would be a recipe for suicide. If they came down on Jocko and Jones, there’d be other heavies lined up ready to take the field. He didn’t know the extent of Jocko’s reach, but it was no secret the bastard had plenty of muscle to call on if needed. The merciless bikie gangs, for one.

Please Foss, come up with something…

At 3.05pm Raewyn buzzed Gary in his office.

‘Mr and Mrs Romashkin are here. Shall I show them in?’

‘No, I’ll come out.’ Paperwork lay strewn over the desk. ‘But could you come in and give my office a quick tidy? I never got around to picking up the bits of Mr Jones’s … phone.’

‘Sure thing, but you owe me one.’

He wondered if Rae would ever stop flirting with him. The banter always brightened his day but he’d never go there, he knew that. And neither would she.

The couple sat in reception on a black leather sofa by the water cooler, sipping cold water from tiny paper cups. Gary ushered them into the meeting room where they could talk privately. He knew to keep small talk to a minimum; the Russians came all this way to buy cars, not talk about the stinking weather or the surfing conditions at Greenmount. He explained the mandatory crap about terms and conditions, signed a few legal documents and handed Ivan two sets of keys.

‘For you and Mrs Romashkin. I’ll have the girls’ cars delivered by close of business.’

‘Me and Irina like you,’ said Ivan in his halting English. ‘We stay in okay apartment, but too small and only room for two cars in parking basement. It is pain in ass to park cars on street. Soon we need house with big garage to keep cars safe.’

Gary wished he could help out since they – their money in particular – had got him out of a pickle. He sensed Ivan might get to steer the car most of the time, but it was Irina who steered the marriage. The pair stood on different levels of sophistication. But hubby’s body language left no doubt he’d go to hell and back for her.

The woman watched him with her head tilted on a slight angle. Her sapphire eyes were wide open, unblinking. Every now and then her tongue crept along her top lip. Gary pegged her at about 42, ten years older than him. Her perfume exuded undernotes of fresh musk. Irina oozed sex and Gary found himself mentally undressing her as Ivan spoke.

‘You know anyone who can help us find house? I look on Internet but so much choice, so confusing.’ Ivan coughed into his fist.

Gary shook his head to break Irina’s spell. Right. Back to business.

Of course! Dawn could help the Russians with their housing needs. ‘I know someone who can help you buy a house. She bought a car from me a while ago. Shall I pass your number on to her?’

‘Yes please,’ Ivan replied with a nod. ‘We are ready to buy something soon. Now, can I give you the money for cars?’

Ivan hefted a bulging sports bag onto the table and unzipped it. Inside bundles and bundles of one-hundred dollar bills struggled for room. Money spilled out of the bag like the intestines of a stabbing victim. Ivan grabbed the sliding bundles and assembled them in piles.

The man’s hands were calloused and enormous, like the paws of some powerful beast. A real Russian bear. Broad shoulders and stubby neck. Not handsome, but not ugly either. Average everything, except for scarring around one eye. All thoughts of seducing Irina evaporated.

‘Uh, would you mind waiting while I get my boss to help me count the money?’

At 4.17pm, the Romashkins eased their newly acquired vehicles out of the car yard. As Gary watched them drive away, he decided people who carry around that kind of money were worth knowing.