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The rear doors
looked more promising. The locks were concealed but the hinges werent. They
could be prised off with the right tools. The ventilators also looked
promising. If he could be sure that Steelgard was too lax to carry gasmasks, hed
try dropping tear gas down the ventilators.

    He recalled other security van
snatches that hed pulled. There had been the time his gang came in underneath,
forcing a way through the mesh floor of the van, and the time theyd forced a
way through the engine bay to gas the driver. Both methods had worked, but
required time and a great deal of effort, starting with detour signs to lure
the van somewhere quiet, and experts to work the expensive, noisy cutting gear.

    But you couldnt rely on using the
same method twice. The security firms had got wise. Soon drivers were always
varying the route and never straying off the main roads. If confronted with a
detour sign they radioed in for the okay before taking it. The vans themselves
became harder to penetrate. Wyatt had heard of concealed aerials in the wing
mirrors, sirens that could wake the dead, sonar tracking signals and complete
shutdowns where the brakes locked and none of the doors would open.

    He wondered if Steelgard had moved
up to that kind of protection. He doubted it somehow. But that didnt mean it
would be easy. He still had to find a way in. There was still the radio link
the van would maintain with the Goyder base. There were still witnesses to
consider. The main roads here couldnt be called busy, but even one car every
five minutes was one car too many.

    The solution to the problem of
witnesses presented itself on the last stage of the Steelgard run. Wyatt was
following the van along a firm dirt road that looped around to Belcowie when he
saw flaring brake lights and a back-up of dust. The van was turning off the
good dirt road and onto a lesser dirt road. It was taking a short cut.

    Wyatt throttled back. He didnt go
in but stopped to examine the vans tyre tread pattern in the dust. He would
follow again next Thursday. If they used the same route he would hit them the
following week.

    The way into the money itself hed
worry about later. The vans radio was a different matter. Hed call Melbourne
tonight, ask Eddie Loman to send him someone whod have the equipment and
know-how to jam it.

    * * * *

    NINE

    Gabe?

    Yeah, Gabe Snyder said.

    Eddie Loman here.

    Snyder didnt reply for a moment. He
was braking gently, the car phone at his ear, allowing the moron ahead of him
to cut left into Waiora Road instead of Lower Plenty Road. Snyder didnt want
to hit anything. His Toyota van was the latest model and it was full of the
latest radio and cellular phone gear. He waited for the moron to get a few car
lengths ahead and said, Eddie. Long time no see.

    Eddie Lomans voice faded in and
out. Snyder attributed it to distance and to the hills in this part of
Melbourne. Say again? he said.

    Busy tonight? Eddie Loman
repeated, and this time his voice came through loud and clear.

    Well, you know, Friday, Snyder said.
Catch the action at the Cadillac Bar, maybe.

    Can you drop in and see us first? I
might have something for you.

    It was freaky. Snyder could hear
Eddie Loman clearly now. He accelerated through the intersection at the corner
of La Trobe University then slowed on the other side. La Salle Park
Psychiatric Hospital a sign said. Snyder looked at his watch. It was four oclock,
visiting time. Thered be a few cars in the grounds, perfect cover, just as he
liked it. Six oclock all right? he asked.

    Then the signal faded again. There
was a crackle that he hoped was Eddie Loman signing off, and the line went
dead. Snyder replaced the handset of the car phone and concentrated on his
driving. His mouth dropped open when he did that. It was a large, damp mouth in
a loose, pouchy face. The pouchiness helped to conceal the acne a little. The
hair helped too. It was curly, salt and pepper coloured, and he wore it to his
shoulders. In 1969