Between the Devlin and the Deep Blue Seas by Robert G. Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

got to tell me a bit about the place. Who lives here and all that.’
    The caretaker gave a wheezy laugh. ‘Who lives here? I’ll tell you who lives here. Some of the greatest weirdos I’ve ever come across. Wait till you meet them. You’ll love ’em.’
    Norton sipped slowly on his coffee. ‘Like who, for instance?’
    The caretaker rolled up several pairs of tatty socks and pushed them into the comers of his suitcase. ‘Okay. We’ll start with downstairs. Firstly, in flat two, you got old blind Burt and his guide dog, Rosie. He’s on the pension and he sells papers. He’s not all that blind, but he’s blind enough.’ The caretaker seemed to laugh at some private joke. ‘You’re gonna love old Burt.’ He took another mouthful of beer. ‘Then in flat three, you got Sandy. She’s an artist.’
    â€˜An artist?’
    â€˜Yeah. Not a bad sort, either. Sandra Jean Garrett’s her real name. She’s got a boyfriend — or two. She’s also got some old bloke comes round and porks her just about every weekend. I think he’s got a fair bit of money. He buys nearly all her paintings.’
    â€˜Like a rich benefactor?’
    â€˜Something like that. Right, now upstairs in flat fouryou got an all-girl rock ’n’ roll band. The Heathen Harlots.’
    â€˜The fuckin’ what?’ exclaimed Les.
    Olsen laughed out loud. ‘Wait till you meet the Heathen Harlots, Les. You’ll love them too. They look like fuckin’ vampires and dress like aliens from another planet. They
could
be vampires too. I can’t remember the last time I saw them in the daylight.’
    â€˜Christ!’
    â€˜Flat five’s empty. Used to be a bikie lived there.’ The caretaker shook his head. ‘Bad lot too, him and his mates. There was a terrific stink up there about a month ago — screamin’ and yellin’. These other bikies took him away and I ain’t seen him since. Just between you and me, I think they killed him.’
    â€˜Shit!’
    â€˜Though, when I think about it, Jimmy wasn’t all that bad a bloke. Only a little fella for a bikie; not all that much bigger than me. Just before it happened he got me to put some stuff in the storeroom for him. Bits of a motorbike and that.’
    â€˜Is it still there?’
    â€˜Yeah.’ Olsen finished the bottle of beer. ‘And in flat six you’ve got a team of hippies.’
    â€˜Hippies?’
    â€˜Yeah, just like out of one of those sixties movies.’
    Hello, thought Les, here we go again. I’m back in Yurriki. ‘How many living up there?’
    Hoppy shrugged. ‘About half a dozen — I think. They drive an old blue kombi, it’s generally parked out the front. Wait till you meet them. They wouldn’t have a brain between them and I don’t think any of them have had a bath since the War of the Roses.’
    â€˜Un-fuckin’-real.’
    â€˜They’re all on the dole and all they do is get out of it and sit up on the roof playing didgeridoos.’
    â€˜Didgeridoos? You’re kidding.’
    â€˜Wait till you hear it when they go off. Albert Namatjira’d roll over in his grave.’
    Norton shook his head and stared into his coffee. Christ! What have I got myself into here?
    He looked up as Hoppy threw an old pair of tan shoes into the suitcase, shoved them down then closed the lid and turned the locks.
    â€˜Well, that’s it,’ he said, picking up a cardigan from the back of a chair. ‘I’m packed and out of here.’
    â€˜That’s it?’ echoed Les.
    â€˜Yep.’ The caretaker gave the suitcase a tap. ‘That’s it.’
    Bloody hell, thought Norton. Poor little bastard. Three years in this dump, he’s half a cripple nearing the end of his life and what’s he got to show for it? A lousy suitcase full of old clothes. Well, at least