Guns 'n' Rose by Robert G. Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

CAM-STAT X-911s from America. And a thousand spaghetti bullets.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Teflon-coated things. They burst inside and shred up all your stomach. Like spaghetti.’
    â€˜Sounds nice.’
    â€˜Yeah, just great. We got to get them before this bikie gang does. The bloke I’m with’s in the Feds. We’re off to Newcastle tomorrow.’
    Norton thought it might be good manners to change the subject. He’d had a bit of a dig and only proved that good cops do have a prick of a job at times. And Steve was one of the good ones. ‘And is that how you met the two lovelies?’
    Steve winked. ‘Reckon. And in course of duty, too, I might add.’
    â€˜Of course, Steve. And half your luck, mate. They’re not bad sorts.’
    â€˜Yeah. We just had dinner with them. They live at Green Point or something.’
    Norton was about to say something when Steve’s mate tapped him on the shoulder. They had a quick conversation with the two girls then Steve turned back to Norton.
    â€˜We got to get going, Les. I’ll probably bump you back in Sydney.’
    â€˜Okay, mate. Look after yourself.’ They exchanged aquick, firm handshake. ‘And Steve, just remember the old saying.’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    â€˜If you’re gonna pull a scam, watch the video-cam.’
    â€˜Thanks, Les, I will. You cunt.’
    Steve gave a bit of a wave and they were gone, leaving Norton on his own again. He strolled absently towards the dance floor straight into ‘Right Kind of Mood’ by Herbie. He finished his drink as the music battered him back to the bar. He ordered another drink then turned around and got battered by ‘Forever Young’ by Interactive. What the fuck’s going on? grimaced Norton. This is diabolical. Norton felt concussed. It was as if someone was belting him over the head with a piece of downpipe and if the music had gone any faster they would have started going back in time. It’s me. It has to be me. I’m turning into an old fart, a square. But looking around it wasn’t only Les. Everybody in the place looked like they’d had enough too; including a couple of Asquith Annies shuffling listlessly around on the dance floor with their bottles of mineral water. The DJ had won the night. He’d beaten them all into the ground. Or the floor.
    I don’t know what it is, cursed Norton, but this ain’t fuckin’ me. He gulped down the last of his Bacardi and fled out the door into the foyer where two teeny boppers were lying on the lounge, exhausted, in front of the same doorman. Norton walked up and put his face about two inches away from the doorman’s again.
    â€˜Why didn’t you kick me out earlier when I told you to, you fuckin’ imbecile,’ he screamed. ‘Thanks heaps, you hillbilly.’
    With his head still reeling and his hearing half shot,Norton left the doorman blinking and spun out the front towards the main door. He didn’t know where he was going. Anywhere into the night to try and clear his head. There were two couples waiting for taxis in front of the revolving door as well as a girl standing on her own. Les stopped suddenly, almost bumping into her, his face still a mask of shock, horror and bewilderment.
    â€˜Christ almighty, that music. Sorry.’
    The girl half smiled. ‘You’ve been in the disco.’
    â€˜Yeah, I think that’s what it was. Bloody hell! The Ukrainians wouldn’t have shoved the Jews in there.’
    Still half numbed from the neck up, Les stepped over in front of the shops and tried to clear his head. After a few moments his brain started to settle when he noticed another reflection in a window, turned around and pointed.
    â€˜You’re not the—?’
    â€˜That’s right. I live next door. I saw you upstairs earlier.’
    Norton nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m … up here for a week,’ he replied