The Glass Kingdom by Chris Flynn Read Free Book Online Page B

talking.’
    â€˜Bill runs the scrappers down behind the servo. Bought this off him last week for three hundred bucks. It’s not, uh, yours, is it?’
    â€˜Uh, yes, it uh is.’ Steph made a face.
    â€˜Well, how was I supposed to know? I bought it from old Bill in good faith. Buggered if I know where he got it from.’
    I turned away and kicked at a clump of dry grass. Not really what I’d hoped to hear, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was dimly aware of the driver talking softly to Steph behind me, reassuring her that this was an honest mistake and that Bill Sherman was a decent old bloke, clearly not completely honest but not exactly a war criminal in hiding.
    I wasn’t much in the mood for that kind of bleating. I strode back and took hold of his T-shirt again, dragging him awkwardly onto the bonnet as he squealed in protest.
    â€˜This car was stolen from my girlfriend here, and the best you can do is this old fucken Bill shit?’
    â€˜What do you want from me?’ he whined. ‘I didn’t do anything!’
    â€˜You’re in receipt of stolen goods, for a start,’ I said, and gripped the side of his head in my palm, grinding his cheek into the hot paintwork. He started making a huffing sound then and it was only when Steph touched me on the forearm that I realised he was crying.
    It’s just as well she intervened when she did. I was in the mood for leaving the guy with a couple of cracked ribs and a punctured lung for his trouble. Steph curled up her nose and shook her head, so I hoisted him back up onto his feet and bundled him away from the car. I hooked one foot around his ankle and shoved him so he fell on the grass.
    When I looked back at the Datsun, Steph was already inside, her arse and feet poking out the door as she gathered whatever belonged to the driver and scooped it onto the ground. She took the keys from the ignition and went around to check the boot. There was a cardboard box full of stuff in there, so she dumped that into the field as well.
    â€˜That it?’
    â€˜I think so.’ She rummaged in the boot a bit more and came out with her missing denim jacket, the one with the chequered lining that she wore often. She held it up, all smiles. ‘Ha! Score! Glad he didn’t chuck this.’
    â€˜Jump in,’ I told her. ‘Meet you back up on the road.’
    She got into the car and adjusted the driver’s seat, tutting as she pulled it forward. The rough terrain probably hadn’t done wonders for the Datsun’s chassis but as long as it made it to the next town we’d be all right. As far as I was concerned old Bill in Nowra would be fixing up any damage, not to mention providing me with every scrap of information he had on Mikey.
    Steph gunned the Datsun back up the embankment, its rear wheels spinning momentarily on the grass. The driver was sitting up by then, hugging his legs, wisely holding his tongue. It was only when I turned to leave that he spoke.
    â€˜Mate, it’s about thirty ks back into town. That’s a long fucken walk.’
    I halted and drummed my fingers against my thigh.
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜Well, give us a lift?’
    I stepped back to where he was crouched and proffered my hand. He clutched my wrist, and as he rose I slapped him across the mouth with my free hand—so hard that it stung my palm. He let go of me and fell back to where he was sitting before, clutching his face.
    Steph was waiting for me back on the road. I gave her the iPod from the ute and told her to stay in front of me just in case the Datsun carked it. She glanced at the bloke lying in the paddock and frowned at me, but said nothing.
    â€˜What? He asked for a lift. Can you believe that?’
    â€˜Oh.’ She shook her head and grinned. ‘I thought maybe he wanted his three hundred bucks back.’
    â€˜I’m not running a fucken charity.’
    â€˜I know, but, we did get the car