Circle Of Greed

Circle of greed is a story set in Australia of the perfect casino robbery executed by three professional thieves that quickly turns into a major disaster because of the greed of the participants, the story moves through various plots and counter plots. Th

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Circle of Greed Foreword There are a number of different types of thief, the person who takes home pens and other small bits and pieces from the office, the thief who burgles people’s homes for the video player to help finance a habit, the mugger who uses the threat of violence to steal a wallet or the car thief who get’s his buzz from joyriding in someone else’s vehicle, usually at high speeds, then there’s the professional thief who treats larceny as a career and usually has a cavalier attitude towards the use of violence, there’s also the highly respected business man who fiddles his tax returns, however these people endeavour to acquire that which doesn’t belong to them and no matter how they justify their larceny, whether successful or not and where-ever the thief fits into this hierarchy of larceny, he still remains a common thief. I use the word common because these grasping parasites have a lot in common with each other; they crave what belongs to someone else with an all-consuming passion. Some Sociologists have explained this avarice as a direct effect of their socio-economic upbringing, this translated into a language that the majority of us can understand means that if you’ve got no money, you must be a thief, so can we project this inane excuse to all the poor people, nonsense, some of the most honest people are poor, and does this excuse equate to all the rich people being honest, again nonsense as our newspapers show us every day. Sadly, from the romantic point of view in all of us, there are no Robin Hood’s out there, robbing the rich to feed the poor has never been an option to a thief, unfortunately stealing to feed the poor just doesn’t happen and I tend to suspect it never has, on the other side of the coin stealing from the poor and weak has always been the prerogative of the strong and greedy, from time to time the successful thief may be philanthropic towards his friends, this philanthropy can often turn out to be a double edged sword. The philosophy of every thief, without exception, is that charity begins at home and stays there. Possibly the single most identifiable common denominator that tie’s all these thieves into the same package is the basest of all human vices, Greed, with a capital G. not to be confused with the need of the starving or the want of a child, no, this is self taught greed. In every case of robbery, no matter how small or large, the motive from its inception to it’s execution, from first to last is unadulterated avarice. THE GREEDY ONES The explosion was quite spectacular, a young fourteen year old boy testing his new video camera happened to be on the right beach at the right time, the fishing boat with it’s lights blazing in the gathering darkness was motoring across the bay, it was the obvious subject, the failing light would be the ideal yardstick to tell him the camera’s capabilities, suddenly there was a flash of intense light and the boat lifted out of the water and broke in half, a couple of seconds later the boy felt the concussion and heard the bang of the explosion, having the presence of mind to keep filming he watched as the two halves floated for a moment before sliding below the surface leaving behind a pool of burning oil and fuel. 1st February It was a grey damp rainy morning when Murray stepped through the gates of Pentridge gaol, not what you would expect from Melbourne at this time of year, as he walked away from the gate it clanged shut behind him. He turned and gave the forbidding façade an insolent once over, vowing to himself that he’d never see the inside of another gaol, his blue eyes then swept the street, it looked like a casual glance but Murray missed nothing, his short black hair was swept back from a ruggedly handsome face, which displayed a hardness and defiance to match his taut muscular frame, every inch a dangerous person, a survivor, then his features softened, he was out after two stinking years, he’d served his time without parole, so he wasn’t saddled with reporting to anyone, he’d been eligible for a parole hearing but he’d surprised everyone by refusing to take any part in it. It was obvious he’d kept to a fitness regime while he was a guest of the judiciary system, he was wearing a charcoal grey suit, white shirt and red and white striped tie, in fact he was dressed in the same clothes that he had worn for his court appearance two years earlier and the suit still sat on his frame as well as the day his tailor had fitted him, dropping his small canvas bag, which contained his toiletries and a change of undies, he looked up at the grey rain clouds, heavy with the promise of continued rain, Murray then took a deep breath expecting to savour the clean free air, some indication perhaps that he was indeed truly free again, the other inmates had talked incessantly about that first lung full of clean free air but unfortunately Murray felt a little disappointed, to him it tasted exactly the same as the air he had breathed inside, and he thought to himself, ‘Maybe I’m missing something’ Murray had been raised in a respectable middle class family, the only child of William and Helen Murray, now deceased, as a young man Murray had completed University and had a post grad degree in Mech. Engineering and with these qualifications could have found employment quite easily anywhere but instead Murray had chosen to be a thief, he hadn’t graduated from petty crime as most criminals do, he came home from the university with the clear cut intention of taking to a life of crime, in the same way that he’d studied for his degree he now studied every aspect of crime, he enrolled in locksmith courses, welding courses, metal smith courses in fact any course that he thought he might need, being of above average intelligence he became quite a successful thief never having been arrested or even questioned about the crimes he’d committed, he abhorred violence although he knew he was capable of it, in his opinion a violent crime was an ill conceived crime that showed a lack of imagination and a deeply rooted suicidal tendency. But if he’d never been arrested for a crime he’d committed or even suspected of being a criminal how was it that he was being released from prison having completed a two year prison sentence, the answer was that he now had a criminal record for a crime he was ironically completely innocent of, although he disliked violence when used as a tool to rob, he didn’t have the same qualms about pay-back, a little revenge is good for the ego he decided, and if you used your brain sweet revenge didn’t have to include violence, the violence he had wanted to commit when he’d been sentenced had lost it’s fire and urgency over the last two years and had turned into an ice block that was permanently there in the pit of his stomach, he intended things to change for the scum bags who had set him up, to change for the worst. There was no-one waiting to meet him which didn’t surprise him, being unmarried, no brothers or sisters and both his parents dead and gone twelve year or more now, who else was going to stand outside the prison gate in the drizzling rain. Murray turned left and without a backward glance, began to walk down the road looking for a cab, he had fifty two dollars in his pocket and he thought, even after two years he should still be able to afford the fare out to Wantirna, the taxi drivers must have been doing alright for themselves because he’d walked close to a kilometre before one came cruising up on the opposite side of the road Murray waved it down and crossed the road, the driver got out and took his bag which he heaved into the boot. “Lucky I don’t have Aunt Sybil’s Spode dinner set in the bag, eh mate.” There was no reaction from the cabbie. Murray sat in the front passenger seat and the driver said. “Where ya wanna go mate.” “Wantirna, how much?” “Thirty bucks, that o.k. for ya.” Murray nodded, thirty bucks, bloody hell, he thought, I’ve only been away two years, he must have seen the expression on Murray’s face because the driver said. “Pentridge?” Murray nodded again. The cab did a u-turn and the driver didn’t speak again, Murray glanced at the cab licence, some name he couldn’t pronounce, ‘Greek or Lebanese’ he thought, ‘probably lived in Oz longer than I have and I was born here!’ His mind went back to the events that had led up to his trial and sentence, the events were still crystal clear in his mind, he’d agonized over it every day of his imprisonment never allowing himself to forget a single detail. It had been just after Christmas and Murray had been in his rented flat watching the footy on the telly when the doorbell rang, opening the door Cecil Carr’s eighteen-year-old son darted past Murray into the living room. “Murray, thank god, close the door, you’ve got to help me, the cop’s are after me.” “Calm down, Ted, tell me what’s happened, what have you done?” Cecil Carr was a bricklayer, now retired, who had worked for Murray’s dad most of his life, Ted was his youngest son, a bit of a larrikin who always seemed to be getting into scrapes, but usually a nice kid. “We did a smash and grab on the jeweller’s in the Mall but the cop’s chased us, can I stay here for a while, please Murray, just an hour till they bugger off.” Well what could he do but agree, an hour or so later Ted thanked Murray and left, Murray thought no more about it and went to bed, three or four hours later his door crashed in and his flat was full of police, they dragged Murray out of bed produced a search warrant and then began to demolish his flat, behind the sofa cushions they found a bag with a few necklaces and a couple of cheap looking rings, but this didn’t stop them from wrecking the rest of the flat, finding nothing else of interest they handcuffed him and took him to the station where he was charged with receiving stolen property to the value of six hundred and fifty dollars, he phoned a solicitor and was granted bail to appear in court two weeks later, as soon as he was released Murray drove to Cecil Carr’s house and hammered on the door until Cecil opened it. “Cecil, Where’s that little toe rag, Ted, I want a word with him, do you know what he’s done?” “I’m sorry Murray, come in please, Ted was arrested last night he was refused bail, I’m sorry he involved you, I think the cop’s must have leaned on him.” “You tell the little shit to change whatever he’s told the cop’s, and I’m not joking, Cecil.” Murray was arrested again three hours later and his bail was rescinded for threatening a witness, two weeks later he was tried and received two years imprisonment, he was due for parole when he’d served half his sentence. Ted received two years probation because he’d been so helpful to the police and had confessed to the crime, Ted had thought himself a lucky young man not being sent to prison, and Murray intended to disabuse him of this thought. Ted was about to have a bad problem with reality. For the time being though Ted and Cecil would have to wait, Murray was heading for a house he owned in Wantirna, there was a parcel there that he needed to retrieve, the problem was he’d rented the property out and he knew he shouldn’t go to the house without permission, for this little errand he needed to keep a low profile, in the lease agreement it clearly stated that he had to give notice to the tenants whenever he wanted to conduct an inspection so he asked the cabbie to drop him off at the Bervale Inn instead. He would have to contact the estate agent first and get permission to inspect the property from the couple that had been renting it for the last three years. The cabbie dropped him and his bag outside the Bervale and surprisingly took the time to wish him good luck; Murray paid him and he drove away. As Murray entered the bar the first person he saw was Jacko Wilson sitting at the bar, the day’s racing papers spread out in front of him, most of Jacko’s life was spent studying the racing form, hot in pursuit of that ever elusive winning streak, this obsession had always seemed to Murray to be a total waste of a quite unique talent, Jacko had the ability, not unlike a computer, to collect and keep information in his head, he knew everyone and their business, even though they may not know Jacko from a bar of soap, he knew names, addresses, phone numbers, maybe even what your Granny had had for breakfast, his brain was like a sponge, soaking up whatever information was fed into it, the strange thing was though, he’d never been known to gossip or make use of this talent in any way, not even to make a few bucks. From the size of his girth Murray assumed he was unemployable, he’d never been employed as long as Murray had known him but he never seemed short of a dollar, not that Murray had ever been curious enough to ask him about his finances, one thing he’d learnt early in life was that you never stuck your nose into a friends business, if he wants you to know he’ll likely as not tell you. “Refill, Jacko.” “I’ll have a V.B. if you don’t mind, thanks.” Turning to see who his benefactor was his face lit up. “Hello ya ald bastid.” His Scots accent showing through even though he’d been born in Melbourne of Scottish parents and the closest he’d ever gotten to Scotland was the Glenfiddich he poured down his neck, he stuck out his hand and squeezed very gently, thank god, Jacko was built like the proverbial brick shit house being twice as wide around his gut as he was around his chest, Murray had only ever seen him riled once and that was when he witnessed a dirt bag hit a women in this very bar, Jacko had slowly lowered himself from his stool walked over, picked up the wife beater as though he was a bag of groceries and threw him the length of the bar, needless to say when he hit the floor the guy jumped to his feet and kept on running out the door. Turning to Mick Reynolds, the manager, Murray ordered a whisky for the three of them but Mick declined, and looking Murray straight in the eye he said. “I’m working at the moment, maybe later, nice to meet you anyway.” “No worries, give me a shout when you’re ready.” Turning back to Jacko they began to talk horses, now whadered, why did Mick act as though he didn’t know him, they’d gone through the same school’s, the Bervale had been Murray’s local watering hole for more years than he cared to remember, turning back to Jacko Murray sneaked a side glance at Mick, who, like a gun dog was staring at the two scruffy blokes, they looked like throw back’s to the peace movement, both were in their middle twenties, ripped jeans, tatty t-shirts, looking as though they were overdue for their next needle -----.Drug Squad !!! Murray let out a breath of relief, it had nothing to do with him, he’d never in his life had anything to do with that shit, although he knew from some of his recent neighbours in Pentridge of the enormous amounts of money that can be made selling the shit, but rather than excite him, making those kind of millions actually scared him shitless and all his life he’d made it a point to avoid anyone associated with this dirty and violent trade, that included the pathetic back alley user as well as the multi-millionaire suppliers, this life plan of Murray’s also included staying as far away from the Drug Squad as he could, he’d always avoided them like the plague, that included staying as far away as possible from loose cannons, and as far as he was concerned anyone involved in drugs was a loose cannon, some of these Drug Squad cops had the reputation of being worse than the filth they were supposed to put behind bars, so Murray came to the conclusion that Mick must have it wrong. He went to the public phone in the passageway to call the estate agent; the two grots passed him and carried on to the toilet, the estate agent said that he would make an arrangement with the tenants and that he’d call back in fifteen minutes, Murray gave him the number of the Bervale then went back into the bar followed by the two undercover drug squad who were coming back from the loo as he put the phone down, they went back to their table and sat down, Jacko had got a couple of beers in while Murray was on the phone and they now toasted each other, Jacko pointed to the race being shown on the telly, he then opened a racing guide as though to show Murray the horses form, lying in the crease was a folded piece of paper, Murray palmed the paper and slipped it into his pocket and began talking form with Jacko, Murray ordered a couple of more beers threw a ten dollar note on the bar and said he was going to the dunny. He’d no sooner locked the cubicle and sat down when he heard the door open again, he pulled out the note and read, THEY ASKED 4 U. 2 MORE, RED CAR. CAR PARK, he was reading it again when the door opened a second time and Jacko shouted. “Are you alright, your taking your time in there, mate, the next race is about to start, I thought you’d fallen down the pan.” Murray laughed, flushed the note away and came out of the cubicle the two undercover cops were washing their hands so he waited for them to finish, Jacko was still standing by the door and moved aside for them to leave. “What the hell do they want with me, Jacko? You know I’ve never had anything to do with that shit, and I’ve only been out a couple of hours.” “There’ve been rumours of a couple of these shitbags hi-jacking ex-cons who may have stached a few bucks for their retirement, I can’t be sure but that’s what this looks like.” “Thanks Jacko, I owe you one.” Going back into the bar he noticed the two cops had been joined by their two mates from the car park these were even scruffier than the first two if that was possible, the only way out was past were they sat, so he skulled his beer and ordered another couple, then he said to Mick. “Excuse me, boss, I’m expecting a phone call could you give me a call when it comes.” “Sure can, mister, here’s your change.” Murray pocketed the few dollars change and turned back to Jacko who was now engrossed in the next race that was being televised, surprisingly his horse came in, he not only had the winner he had a trifecta and began wobbling with excitement as he tried jumping up and down, this seemed to be Jacko’s lucky day, and he began to order drinks for everyone, Mick shouted to Murray from down the bar. “Hey mate, your phone call, you can take it on the public phone.” Murray nodded and walked to the passage leaving his bag next to Jacko on the floor, he looked in the back bar mirror, one of the cops started to follow him but his mate grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear, he turned looked at Murray’s bag on the floor then smirked and sat back down, Murray lifted the phone said wrong number before replacing it and with the key that Mick had slipped to him along with his change he hurried through the delivery door into the rear yard locking the door behind him, he put the key on top of the door jamb then jumped the fence into the car-park, watching the pub door he walked over to the only red car in the car-park and going around to the blind side so he could still keep an eye on the door he let both passenger side tyres down then unscrewed the valves and put them in his pocket, this car wasn’t going anywhere for a while, then he was off and running like a long dog, they could have the toiletries and dirty shirts and underpants in his bag. He’d only gone about two hundred metres when a cab went cruising past he gave a whistle and the cab stopped he jumped in and ten minutes later he was at the estate agents office. The pretty young receptionist was talking on the phone and ignored him, the way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, told Murray she was probably chatting to her boyfriend. “Excuse me, Miss” The look she gave Murray indicated that she thought he was something the dog had dragged in off the street and swivelling on her chair she turned her back on him and continued with her conversation. He took a deep breath, filled his lungs and bellowed as loud as he could. “Hellooo. Is anybody here?” The pencils on her desk were rattling, the receptionist dropped the phone and spun around, with her hands up to her mouth staring at Murray as though she thought he’d flipped, he was about to repeat his bellow when three people came running out of an office to his right, one of them was the agent he’d left in charge of his house, James Ropp. “Mr Warwick, good to see you again, please go into my office, I won’t be a moment I just want a quick word with Janet.” Murray had bought the house from James Ropp about eight years ago as an investment, and he’d been Murray’s agent ever since, looking after the property and paying the rent he collected into Murray’s bank account, the name and identity that Murray had used to purchase the house was John Warwick. When Murray was seated the agent closed the door and sat in a chair facing Murray. “I apologise for Janet, she’s young she’ll learn eventually, unfortunately for her it will be somewhere else.” “There’s no need to be that drastic, she’s only a kid.” “Yeh I know, but your little experience is only one of a long list of complaints stacked against our little Janet, but enough about her, you’re here to arrange an inspection, right, unfortunately your tenants both work in the city until six o’clock in the evening but they will be available for an inspection on Sunday morning at 10 a.m. if that suits you, I can assure you they have taken excellent care of the property. In fact they have asked me to approach you with an offer to buy it” Murray thanked him and told him that he’d set his mind at rest about the property being looked after, so much so that he’d forgo the inspection, telling the estate agent he didn’t want to take up his tenants only day off and he would be busy himself for the next couple of Sunday’s anyway, maybe he could arrange for an inspection when he had a free Sunday, as for selling the property if the price was right he would be open to offers, and that he would like James to be his agent in any negotiations, Murray then wrote out an authorisation to this effect, adding that he trusted the agent’s judgement, he then stood up shook the agents hand and left. Three doors down was the bank so he turned in and filled out a withdrawal slip for three hundred dollars and slipped the notes into his wallet, now he felt better, he could now do what he had set out to do without being jerked around, first thing he needed was some wheels, nothing flash, an old Holden would do the trick, if the pigs thought he was loaded they wouldn’t expect him to be driving an old bomb. By now the cop’s had probably figured out that he wasn’t coming back to finish his drink or collect his dirty washing, he could imagine that right at this moment Murray wasn’t the most popular ex-con on their list especially when they found the valve less tyres on their car. At Bernie’s garage he picked up an old Kingswood, a hundred bucks for two days hire. Bernie hadn’t changed since the last time Murray had seen him, grease permanently under his nails, the same greasy overalls covered in oil and of course that cheeky grin that was a permanent fixture, looking at the Kingswood Murray had his doubts it would last two days, when he mentioned this to Bernie he gave Murray a short laugh and that cheeky grin he’d always turned on the teachers at school, you really can’t get upset with him. “That was a crap deal with Ted Carr, Murray, does the little shit know your out.” “I don’t know I might give him a bell later.” “I’d like to see his face when he hears your voice.” Murray just nodded, before he left the garage he picked up a sledge hammer and put it on the back seat, Bernie saw him take the hammer, but he just winked and turned his back. Twice Murray drove past his rented house in Wantirna, he couldn’t see anyone watching the place so on the third pass he turned into the drive, he sat for a moment or so before turning the motor off, nobody came out to question him, so collecting the hammer from the back seat he stepped onto the lawn and walked to the ornamental pond, in the centre of the pond was a statue of a cherub spitting water into the pond, the water in the pond was about fifteen centimetre’s deep, slipping off his shoes and socks he rolled up his trousers and waded through the ice cold water to the statue, he lifted the hammer and with one swing the plaster cherub disintegrated, he’d never liked the little fat child-like angel, now all that was left of it was the plastic pipe with two lips still spitting water, obviously Murray’s dislike for this fat plaster angel wasn’t his only reason for destroying it, the two small cigar boxes in plastic bags that fell into the water was what he was after, picking them up Murray sat on the grass and put his shoes and socks back on, picking up the hammer and the boxes, he walked back to the car reversed out of the driveway and drove back to Bernie’s garage, Bernie stopped working on the tray of a Ute and came sauntering over. “Anything wrong, Murray?” “Naw, just thought I might change wheels, got anything a bit more upmarket, not Victorian plates though, maybe to buy.” “Take about three hours, need the papers?” Murray nodded “O.K. what name?” Murray told him, he said. “Use the office I won’t be long, there’s beer in the fridge” Murray retrieved the two boxes from the Kingswood, wiped all the parts of the car that he’d touched and went up about four steps to the office, sitting at Bernie’s desk Murray tipped out the contents of the boxes, three separate identities, passports, tax file numbers, driving licenses, credit cards, bank cards, birth certificates and ten tight bundles of hundred dollar notes, each bundle to the value of five grand, looking through the desk drawers he found a plastic document pouch, he kept out the papers for the identity that would cover the car Bernie was in the process of acquiring, he also kept out one bundle of notes the rest he put in the pouch which he put under his shirt in the small of his back, when he sat down it didn’t feel too uncomfortable, feeling shattered with fatigue he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes and without realising it he must have nodded off because it was dark in the office when he woke to the sound of voices out in the workshop, being as quiet as he could he stole a peek around the door and froze, it was the four guardians of justice from the Bervale Inn, Bernie was saying that he hadn’t seen or heard of Murray for three or four years, that being the last time he had repaired his car, the scruffiest of the four did all the talking and seemed to be the boss, he gave Bernie a card and asked him to call if Murray showed up, with that they filed out the door Murray heard the car doors slam but no engine noise, always believing that the old adage about discretion being the better part of valour was a good one, he stayed were he was, Bernie started up his welding machine and the workshop was soon lit with the blue flashes coming from the tray of the Ute. A couple of minutes later Bernie stopped welding to put in a new welding rod and Murray heard the cop’s start the engine and drive away, he was about to step out of the office when Bernie dropped his face shield and carried on welding, he quickly stepped back into the darkness of the office, a face appeared behind Bernie and a hand tapped him on the shoulder, lifting his mask he turned around slowly, it was the scruffiest one of the scruffy quartet. “ Hello, I thought you’d left, how can I help, I’ve got to get this tray out tonight.” “My colleagues gave you the wrong card, that number doesn’t work any more here’s the right number, there’ll be a good drink in it if you call, O.K.” “Fair dinkum, excellent, if he comes in I’ll certainly give you a bell.” Bernie said with a smile on his face and obvious interest in the reward offered. The scumbag patted Bernie on the back and left, Murray heard his door bang and the car drive away; Bernie burnt the rest of the rod then switched off the welder. He came into the office, switching the lights on; he then took two beers out of the little beer fridge and sat down; opening the beers he stared at Murray. “What kind of shit are you mixed up in, Murray, those are four serious dudes and they want your arse, bad.” Bernie’s eyebrows shot up when he learnt that Murray had only been released that morning, he then told him what Jacko had said Mick had told him, that the cops were freelancing. “Mongrel bastards.” He exclaimed as he pushed a beer at Murray. “What you going to do now, you’ll have to leave town, the sooner the better, them freaks ain’t gonna go away, Murray, what do you reckon about that last rat-bag, he’s even trying to shaft his three mates.” “I can’t leave town just yet, I’ve a couple of loose ends to tidy up first, but you’re right I’ve got to get these bastards off my back first, and I know exactly how.” As Murray thought about it a grin split his face, Bernie said. “I’ve seen that grin before, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know, you just be careful, these dudes are not fooling around, a few strange things that have happened in the last three or four months are now slotting into place, remember Band-aid the safe guy from Footscray? Well, he got out three months ago, two days later he was in hospital minus two fingers said he had an accident and he’s not the only one, Guy Buchan, McGregor, and half a dozen more all had accidents soon after getting out of the slammer, be very, very careful, mate.” “Has Shirley Griffith’s still got the same flat?” “Yeh, she still does my accounts, I’ve got her phone number here somewhere.” Bernie rummaged about in a heap of papers and came up with a bill from Shirley. “I’ll give her a bell shall I?” Murray nodded and Bernie dialled the number, when Shirl answered he handed the phone to Murray. ”Hi, Shirl, Murray here, how you been? Long time no see, are you busy this evening? I’ve a small problem you may be able to help me with, how about I shout you dinner, O.K. no problem I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.” “Did you sort a car out, Bernie?” “Yeh, it’s parked outside the milk bar, West Australia plates, black V.W. Golf, test certificate and papers are in the glove box, everything’s in working order, there’s six months rego and a full tank, here’s the keys.” “How much Bernie?” “Naw, we’ll sort all that out later.” Murray pulled out his money and peeled off three grand, which he dropped on the desk, Bernie gave a nod and said. “Ya need a shooter?” “No, a shooter didn’t do McGregor much good did it, and the last thing I need right now is to shoot an undercover cop. What I would like are those two phone numbers they gave you.” McGregor was a ruthless hit man, he had never been known to go anywhere unless he was tooled up, he must have been suckered real sweet by those four scumbags, either that or the three years inside had really eaten away at his finely tuned survival instincts. Murray left Bernie’s garage and walked the fifty metres to the V.W. all the time expecting the four cops to step out of an alley or doorway and beat the crap out of him; he reached the car with a sigh of relief. He stopped at the first phone box he came to and finding Cecil Carr’s number in the book, he phoned and a woman answered the phone, Murray said pleasantly. “G,day can I speak to Ted, please.” “Just a moment, I’ll get him for you.” A minute later a voice said. “Hello, Ted here who’s this?” “Your worst nightmare, you little shit, tell Cecil I’ll be having a word with him as well. ” “Aaagh.” Then Murray heard the phone hit the floor, he smiled but the humour never reached his eyes. Lucky Ted and his two faced dad were going to have a bit of difficulty sleeping for the next few nights. In ten minutes he rang Shirley’s bell and she opened the door straight away, she was wearing a white blouse and blue jeans, no matter what she wore she’d always look beautiful to Murray, her face lit up when she saw him standing at her door she threw her arms around his necith computers, she could operate them with the passion and skill that was on a par with the skill of any top flight sportsman or musician in any tournament or musical they cared to name, she was an absolute genius. Shirl was in her early thirties; to Murray she was exciting and beautiful. He’d had a crush on her since they were both youngsters, around women Murray turned to water, everything he said to them sounded stupid and inane, leaving him feeling like a schoolboy once again, so he’d never told her how he felt. “When did you get out, Murray, have you seen that little toe rag Ted yet?” “This morning, No, I haven’t seen him yet Shirl, I’m working on it.” Shirl had trained as an accountant and she worked from home, her speciality was looking after the books, finances and taxes of small business people like Bernie, mechanics, bricklayers, self employed that kind of thing, she had quite a solid satisfied clientele and must be pulling in a few bucks, not that you’d notice looking at her flat, ever since he’d known her she had always been in-between boy friends, he was yet to see one of these in-between boy friends, she was still looking for Mr Right she said, although he’d never thought she was looking very hard, in fact he very much doubted if Mr Right could compete with Mr Microsoft. “Get yourself a drink, Murray, I won’t be a minute I’ve just got to finish something for a client.” She went into the next room and Murray headed for the fridge, he grabbed a can of V.B. and had just sat on the lounge when she came back. “Sorry about that, my clients are mostly self employed and can’t afford the time during the day.” “Don’t worry about it, you want a beer?” She nodded so he got her one from the fridge, she said. “Do you mind if we order pizza and a bottle of wine Murray, instead of going out.” “No, that would be good, Shirl.” They made small talk while they waited for the pizza to arrive, about old friends alive and dead, he reminisced about the first time they’d met, she was just starting her business and was trying to get Murray’s old man, who had a builders yard, to let her do his books but Pop was having non of it, Murray knew that was the time that he fell madly in love with her, he remembered she looked so vulnerable as she walked away with her head bowed, but next day there she was outside Pop’s office again, Murray went out and told her that Pop was out delivering and wouldn’t be back until late afternoon, she thanked him and left, he’d mentioned it to Pop when he arrived back from his deliveries but Pop hadn’t commented, sure enough next day she was there again, Murray had to admit he was impressed, Pop must have been impressed as well because she became Pop’s accountant that day and Murray’s secret dream and life long friend. The pizza’s arrived, while Shirl organized them he opened the wine and poured two glasses sat back down and tucked in, Shirl smiled as he tucked into the pizza he ate more than his fair share, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was and with the wine to help it down he made a bit of a pig of himself. “Right, Murray, now tell me about your problem, start at the beginning.” So he told her everything that had happened from prison to pizza, she sat quietly listening and when he’d finished, she said. “Nobody can say that you have a dull life, Murray, you certainly know how to fill a day, how can I help?” “Well, before I leave Melbourne there are a few things I have to do and I would appreciate getting these turds off my back for a day or two. First I need a cell phone that can’t be traced back, then I’ll need a good camera, a digital one, you know the type that you can down load into a computer.” She nodded and her eyes began to sparkle. “Murray, you’re a devious bastard.” “ They’re undercover drug squad, if I get photographs of them could you put them over the internet without involving yourself, I thought that would keep them too busy to be chasing after me, if I can change their status, from being the hunter to being the hunted, it will give me the couple of days I need.” She sat with her chin in her hand for what seemed to Murray an awful long time, and then she made her mind up and said. “You do realise what’s going to happen to them don’t you, don’t get me wrong, I’m not sympathizing with them, most cops are just people trying to feed their families, but I can’t stand bent cops and what ever problems these four dirt bags are heading for they deserve twice over. It’s just that the drug barons are very protective of their business, these scumbags won’t last two days on the streets.” He sat and pondered this as Shirl got together the camera and cell phone and checked the batteries, Murray came to the conclusion that he didn’t give a rat’s arse what happened to them, they could be crucified outside Flinders St station for all he cared. “Won’t I need a tele photo lens on the camera? “No, the computer will blow the picture to any size you want, how are you going to find them to snap their pic’s.” “Oh, that’s easy, the dumb shits left their phone numbers with Bernie, I’ll arrange a meeting.” “You’ll come back here afterwards or do you want me to come with you?” “No, No, Shirl I don’t want you involved, these scumbags play rough, I’ve been racking my brains for a safe place to lure them, it has to be well lit and have lots of people around.” “At this time of night Maca’s would fit that description.” “Shirl, you’re a beauty, that’s the ideal place, see you later.” [...]... finished off the rest of the mango juice “It’s coming on now Shirl if you want to watch it.” She came through from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and sat next to him on the unmade bed “Police are still investigating the startling revelation of last night’s Internet message, which disclosed the identity of four undercover drug investigation officers, complete with photographs and a list of crimes... anything which he thought had too much risk of capture, no that’s wrong he always walked away if there was any risk of capture, over the years he’d fine tuned his instincts and was proud of the fact that he was never a hungry thief He had walked away from lots of jobs that had seemed to be foolproof, some he later found out went off like a dream, but the majority of the work he had turned down ended in... with photographs and a list of crimes allegedly committed by these officers, crimes ranging from grievous bodily harm to robbery with violence, one of the undercover officers had been admitted to hospital in the early hours of this morning, when interviewed a hospital spokesperson said that the officer was comfortable after the loss of all the fingers from his right hand, he would not comment when asked... do two laps of the car park and park in front of the main doors, no-one got out they just sat there so Murray took a couple of snaps of their car and settled back in his seat waiting People came and went and the drug squad still stayed in the car, it was half an hour later that the rear drivers side door opened and the tallest of the four got out waving his arms, Murray got a good snap of him as he... to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking and the Eighteen Twelve Overture being played with hockey sticks beating on a rubbish bin situated on the top of his head, the smell of eggs and bacon emanated from the kitchen When he went into the kitchen Shirley was bending over the stove humming a tune that the radio was blaring out at a high rate of decibel’s, something similar to a 747 taking off “Morning,... spokesman told the media earlier today that two of the officers concerned were helping the police with their inquiries and that a fourth officer was still to be accounted for, anybody knowing his whereabouts please contact your nearest police station this information will be treated as highly confidential, he went on to state that the present surveillance of the internet was inadequate and new legislation... legislation was needed to curb this mindless and dangerous use of the internet, he ended by saying that the police will be following back the E-mail message and expected the arrest of the perpetrators in the very near future, next in…… ” Murray hit the remote off button, and they both sat in silence until Murray said “Well Shirl, not bad for a pair of old has beens, eh.” “I wonder what happened to the fourth... Jacko who said “That was some trick you pulled, mate, I’d take my hat off to you if I had one, as they say in some circles, a right royal shafting.” “Don’t get upset with me Jacko, but that bit of information is for your ears only, I know I’m stating the obvious but I feel very protective towards Shirl, you do understand Jacko, yeh, no offence meant but she’s a bit more vulnerable than me Okay mate.” ”How... serious?” “Very, I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I saw you in your dad’s yard, why did you think I kept going back?” “To see Pop.” “To see you of course.” “What a pair of idiots we’ve been, you’re the only women I’ve ever thought of, I dream of you constantly, I’ve wasted all that time because I was too shy to tell you how I felt, I thought I’d spoil our friendship if I told you.” “That’s exactly... around the edges of a serious fling, content to just fantasise about each other, they were comfortable with each other like no other couple he knew, he then made a serious promise to himself, after this business was over he would do something about Shirl, and of course he thought, neither of us are getting any younger He drove down the Princes Highway to Geelong, found the main post office and enquired . basest of all human vices, Greed, with a capital G. not to be confused with the need of the starving or the want of a child, no, this is self taught greed. . Circle of Greed Foreword There are a number of different