Only Killers and Thieves(55)

“How many you got?”

He fished out the bag again and showed him.

“Bloody hell, Tommy!”

“Shut up, will you. Keep your voice down.”

“Here, give us some for my pocket.”

Billy reached for the bag but Tommy snatched it away. He counted two of the lollies into Billy’s lap. Billy started to argue but didn’t, pocketed the lollies instead. He rested his head against the rock; Tommy watched him a moment, then did the same. Smiling and sucking their sweets, faces upturned to the sun.

Tommy felt the shadow sliding over him, opened his eyes, and found Noone standing there, smoking his pipe, gazing across the waterhole. Tommy elbowed Billy gently and he jerked upright, then fell still when he saw they weren’t alone.

“Lovely day for it,” Noone said, smiling. “Having fun, boys?”

“Just resting,” Billy said. “Same as them.”

Noone nodded and drew hard on the mouthpiece, his hollow cheeks hollowing farther still, then he blew out the smoke and lowered himself down next to Tommy, the brothers shuffling to make room. Noone leaned against the rock and sighed. He was close enough that Tommy could feel the heat of the man, could smell his smoke and sweat. He had his shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest—the dark hairs damp and matted—and his sleeves rolled elbow-high. He sat there smoking. The smoke drifted over both of them, sitting awkwardly alongside.

“I’d ask for one of those lollies but I think the tobacco would spoil the taste.”

Tommy scrambled for the packet behind his back. “You’re welcome to—”

“Put them away, lad, or Locke will take the lot. They’re from that garish tree John has at his place, I assume, all whored up in tinsel and balls?”

“Yessir. A Christmas tree, she said.”

“Quite. Even more ridiculous. Still, if it keeps Mrs. Sullivan happy . . . she can’t have too much to smile about.” He exhaled heavily through his nose. “So, how are the pair of you enjoying your little adventure so far?”

Tommy glanced at his brother. Billy said, “We’re . . . it’s fine.”

“You’re both keeping well? Food, water, supplies?”

Hesitantly Tommy nodded. Trick questions, it seemed.

“Good, good, it’s not to everyone’s taste, of course, traveling in this manner, being out here, but there are moments of enjoyment, I believe, moments of peace.”

Tommy was still nodding. Wondering what the hell Noone was about. Sullivan and Locke were watching them curiously from the water’s edge.

“Sadly, they are all too brief, these periods of respite. A sweet or a smoke in the sunshine, then we must move on again. Always moving, always moving. Of course, it is tempting to stay here, to camp here tonight, but there are hours yet until sunset and it would be a shame to waste the light. Not to mention the risk that the trail will be dead come dawn.”

Billy leaned forward. “You found something?”

“Indeed. Natives were here just this morning. Seems they camped after the storm, probably sheltered in those rock caves we passed back there. We might have only missed them by a couple of hours.”

“Was it Joseph? Him and the rest?”

Noone inclined his head and looked at Billy indulgently, eyebrows raised, a knowing half smile. “No, I don’t believe so. Barefoot, it appears, plus a couple of gins and some dogs . . . hardly your murderous mob. Tommy—what do you say?”

He looked up, startled. “What about?”

“Well, how should we proceed?”

He could feel himself flushing. He shrugged. “Leave them, if they’re not him.”

“Really? You’re not keen to get out after them? Find out who they are?”

“Be a waste of the horses. Might be in the ranges by now anyway.”

“Doubtful. Even on horseback we’d only just make the ranges ourselves. But remember, they’ll be Kurrong, they would know where Joseph is. Still not keen?”

“There’s women with them, you said.”

“And?”

“Well, there weren’t no women involved.”

“True. But that didn’t spare your mother. Or your little sister.”

Billy was stirring, rising to his feet. “We should leave,” he said. “Catch ’em before dark.”

“Tommy,” Noone said, pouting, “I’m disappointed. I thought you were with us. After all, we are here on your behalf. On your word, no less.”

“I am with you, it’s just—”

“You see, we can’t have any dissenters. Even my blacks are fully committed to the cause. And yet I worry about you, Tommy. I worry you see too much. There is a little dissent in you, I think. I do not like dissent. It is a wound that festers and slowly eats away at a man, then next thing you know he has turned. That is not good for me. Or for him, in fact. Best thing with a wound that looks like it will turn is to cut off the limb before it takes. If that is not possible, kill the man altogether. It is kinder all round, more effective, saves everyone a lot of trouble and pain.” He pushed himself to his feet, groaning as he rose, then stood over Tommy, staring down. “I do hope I’m wrong about that, Tommy. I think maybe I am. More likely you’re upset about your family still, perhaps a little afraid?”