Pest on the Run by Gerry Burke

Author:Gerry Burke [Burke, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781475943986
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2012-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

The Gizzard Triplets: Juliet, Penny and Poppy

Getting Stormy to run a check on Poppy was no trouble, as they both operated in the low end of town. However, Poppy was connected and her friends weren’t very nice. Although she was committed to no one in particular, big bad Brendan Duffy’s name kept appearing; and that meant drugs, prostitution and illegal gambling. Duffy had been a half-decent player for the St Kilda football team in his youth, but was now just a good sport with fingers in a lot of pies. He even ran a chain of tattoo parlors.

It was common knowledge that Brendan Duffy was the largest manufacturer of poker machines in the country and he always loved a deal that would make him a lot of money. God knows how Stormy tracked down his latest venture but she did. He had an in-principle agreement to sell one thousand fruit machines to Fiji. They were to be custom-made and all would be devoid of bananas. Is Barney Applegate paranoid or what?

I could only surmise that Duffy had sent Poppy to the meeting in order to curry favor with her sister. It was obvious that this whole pre-emptive strike business was just plain politicking, in order to get some leverage. However, Juliet had problems. Her government was holding on to power because of the goodwill of an independent senator, who was intent on gambling reform. This whole scenario was mired in self-interest and opportunism, and a girl may be dead because of it. Then again, one shouldn’t discount other possibilities.

When Stormy Weathers is by my side, as she often is, I usually get directed along the path of reason and rational probability. Left to my own devices, I have far more fun. What if Poppy and the masseuse were having a torrid sex session with leather implements and the like, and the situation got out of control? I was salivating at the very thought. I would have taken this further had someone not just seen the lady concerned in a comprising situation with Peter Murphy in the brig. The man had just put himself in another difficult situation.

The dinner break was an opportune time to mix with some of the support team, and they were diving into the chaff bag as if there were no tomorrow. The respective prime ministers were dining in their state-rooms, and the most senior ranking Australian politician in attendance was John Craigie. Peter Murphy had evidently taken a tray down to the brig. As I had forgotten to endorse her release, the masseuse was still there.

“Hello, Mr Craigie. Do you mind if I join you?”

Craigie was playing loose with a typist from DFAT and a spook from ASIO. What he didn’t know was that the spook was really a bloke. It was supposed to be a secret, but everyone knew except John Craigie. He had his hand on Tommy’s knee when I asked him to pass the asparagus tips. He had no alternative but to include me in their conversation.

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