Abacus

there.”
    * * *
    Randall sat in a detective’s car in the car park of Trumper Park. He had met Irish at this location only once before. He liked to change the locations where he met the bait. He also liked to give them as little notice as possible. If the bait did happen to try and set him up, it would be very difficult to get a third party organised at the last minute to record their meetings.
    In the distance he could see Irish walking slowly from the opposite side of the park. He looked very lethargic. As he got closer, Randall saw he had taken on a dishevelled, homeless look. He unlocked the passenger’s side door, allowing Irish to lower himself into the seat. “Jeez, you look terrible,” he complimented.
    “Thanks , I feel crap as well.”
    Randall gave Irish a quick pat down while keeping an eye on the park. He liked to keep the bait on their toes. They were less inclined to act up if he was proactive. He always needed to be one step ahead of them. “It’s such a lovely day, Irish, let’s go for a nice walk in the park.”
    I rish moaned as he pulled himself out of the seat. He looked quite unwell. Once out of the car, both men strolled along the concrete path that meandered through the picturesque park. “Well, what happened to you, Irish? Are you all right? ’Cause you don’t look crash hot,” he asked in a concerned tone.
    “I’m bloody lucky to be alive, I tell you,” said an animated Irish. Randall stopped walking and listened c losely to what Irish had to say. “It was the usual setup. Met the guy, told him I had high grade hammer. Arranged to meet him at his joint, he had a huge big ass mansion with high security. He had bars on the doors and a couple of nasty guard dogs. When I went inside he had two other heavies with him, one had a pistol pushed down the front of his pants. He looked fucking mean. I pulled out the stash from the front of my pants, and put it on the table so the target could have a taste. He pulls out two picks and puts them on the table in front of me. He looks me in the eye and says to me, I’ll hit it up but you go first. I wanna make sure you’re not a cop. I don’t know you. I don’t trust you.”
    Ra ndall pointed to a nearby bench, which they walked to and sat on. “Bloody hell, not a really good position to be in, Irish. What happened then?”
    Irish looked down solemnl y and continued. “I shit myself. I mean really shit myself. Then he mixed up the gear and pulls it up through the pick and hands it to me. They’re all staring at me, watching me. They think I might be a cop, they are waiting for me to break. He hands me a belt, and I tie it around my arm and pump my forearm to get the veins popping. I’m trying not to be scared… I’m saying to myself, keep calm, don’t shake. I know I will probably die if I don’t hit it up, and I will definitely die if I do. I know that if I take the lot, it will kill me on the spot. I held the needle up to the light, flicked it and pushed the plunger to get the air bubbles out of it. A little of the gear spurted out. I lowered my arm slightly below the table height to make it hard for them to see. As I moved the pick to my arm, I pushed the plunger again and spurted about three quarters of the gear onto the inside leg of my jeans. I then pushed the needle in.
    “ The main guy then leans over the table to watch closer, and see’s the very last of it going into my arm. He didn’t know I only took a quarter of it. Anyway, it didn’t take me long to realize I was in trouble. I watched the main guy do the same, only he hits up the whole lot in one go. I know he is gonna die, I gotta get out of there, but I am really feeling out of it.
    “ I asked where the toilet was. I stagger through the house, knocking over things but I can’t get out. The doors are all locked and barred. I reached the toilet and go in and there is a window. I slid the window open and jumped out. I ran through the garden, falling over and staggering all over the place, then the dogs start barking.
    “ Out in the street I hear yelling from inside, sounds like they are trying to wake him up, he would have been dead before he hit the floor. I’m not sure how, but I somehow got to a nearby park and fell near a toilet block. That’s all I remember. I woke up in hospital on a drip. My heart had stopped and I’d died five times but they kept bringing me back. Eventually the drugs the hospital gave me kicked in, and here I am.”
    Randall sat