The Whole Business with Kiffo and the Pitbull by Barry Jonsberg Read Free Book Online

me there to help out. Okay? Now, you can do this one of two ways. You can continue with your impersonation of a complete moron – and, incidentally, it’s one you do with uncanny accuracy – and find me following you everywhere you go. Or you can just answer a straightforward question, which will save us both a lot of time. When are you going to trash the Pitbull’s place?’
    Kiffo’s face registered a look I recognised – the one that showed he knew he was going to be the loser if he argued with me. He gave it another go, mind you.
    â€˜Just drop it, Calma!’
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜I’m trying to protect you!’
    â€˜When?’
    And then he sagged, like I knew he would.
    â€˜Tonight,’ he said, eyes flicking about as if in search of support.
    â€˜So where do we meet?’
    For a moment I thought he was going to start arguing again, but instead he gave a sigh. I knew I had won.
    â€˜All right, all right! Meet me at five-thirty outside K-Mart in the mall. Have you got camouflage gear?’
    â€˜Bloody hell, Kiffo,’ I said. ‘This isn’t World War Three!’
    â€˜It is to me. Never mind. Be on time, right?’
    Throughout the entire afternoon, I was in a nervous frenzy. I’ll admit it. I actually thought it was really exciting. But I knew there was a line I wouldn’t cross. There was no way I was going into the Pitbull’s house. I’d watch out for Kiffo, but any breaking and entering would be up to him. I told him that much when we met at five-thirty.
    â€˜God, Calma,’ he said. ‘As if I’d let you break in! You’d probably get your tits stuck in the window. No. Listen, just watch out for me, right? Keep guard.’
    He looked me up and down.
    â€˜Is that the best you could do?’
    Under the circumstances, I thought I had done pretty well. Dark blue jeans and a maroon singlet. Kiffo looked like something out of a survival video for bush weirdos. He had head-to-toes camouflage gear, heavy black boots and a black balaclava perched like a beanie on the top of his head. I mean, really anonymous when you’re hanging around outside K-Mart on a Friday afternoon! All the mothers with kids in strollers were going past looking at Kiffo like he was Osama bin Laden.
    â€˜I thought the idea with camouflage gear was to blend in with the surroundings,’ I said to him, ‘not stand out like a marine in a nunnery. You would have been better off hiring a stroller and a couple of kids.’
    Kiffo looked a little indignant.
    â€˜Yeah, well. It stands out here, doesn’t it? But it won’t stand out in the Pitbull’s yard,will it? Come on,we’d better get going.’
    We left the mall and walked off towards the southern suburbs. It was already starting to get dark which, to be perfectly honest, suited me down to the ground. Now that we had started on this, I was nervous and didn’t like the idea of anyone spotting me with Kiffo, particularly dressed the way he was. I had visions of an episode of Crimestoppers .
    Close-up of smooth, good-looking bastard with anal-retentive hair and discreet tie. He could be one of those models you see in catalogues, flanked by a couple of clean-cut clones sporting seriously unpleasant leisure garments. There is a Crimestoppers logo perched over his immaculate left shoulder:
    â€˜Can anyone remember seeing two young people near the mall between five-thirty and six on the evening of the seventeenth of May? A young male, aged about fifteen with camouflage gear, bandy legs, bright red hair with a beanie stuck on the top like a black cherry. His accomplice had huge boobs and orange glasses the size of up-and-over garage doors.’
    No, the gathering dark was just fine with me.
    Kiffo was moving like a man possessed. I had a struggle to keep up with him.
    â€˜How did you find out where she lived, Kiffo?’ I panted.
    â€˜Easy,’ he replied.