Bandit or Priest

By Fabian Christian

THE MEAN STREETS OF ST KILDA, VICTORIA. THE 1980S. VICE RULES.

Moving to Melbourne after a youth of small-time crime, James quickly finds himself heading up his own criminal operation: the Locust Gang. Scourge of the city, the gang executes a series of robberies that bring them notoriety - and unwelcome attenti

• Language: English
• Publisher: 7 Swords Publishing
• Release date: Dec 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781923088641

Fabian Christian

Fabian Christian lives in Melbourne, with his wife and fellow writer Adriana.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

SO, JAMES, WHERE did you hide the fucking stuff?

Do you have some sort of hearing problem or what? I’ve already told you; it’s in the bloody Yarra River.

Another blow to the head and one flush to the jaw knocked me out.

Sometime later, I was rudely awoken by having cold water thrown into my face.

My head throbbed and ropes paralysed my limbs. I didn’t dare utter a word – not that I physically could. Severe dehydration had locked my throat and frozen my tongue in place. At least I was alive, and although still blindfolded, I was relieved to be alone in complete silence.

Sitting up was a mistake; head spinning, I quickly slipped into darkness again.

Like a drowning man struggling to resurface, I somehow made my way back. Through the haze, I realised that I was lying on a bed, and my head felt supported by pillows.

Feeling the end was near, my mind wandered back and forth, processing different elements of my life and what had led me to this moment. Hard to believe, lying here, that it all started when I was so young.

It was at a point in time where – for right or for wrong – I had to do something, for my family’s sake.

THE WAGES OF SIN

ON A COLD winter’s day just after my fourteenth birthday, the local policeman, Sgt Stevens, came to my school and removed me from class. I hadn’t been up to any mischief, and he didn’t say a word on the ride home, so I was nervous as we made our way to the front door. Inside with my mother, he broke the news that my father had been seriously hurt in a road accident. Dad had been driving long hours as usual, and late the previous evening had run a big L-series Mack truck off the road. It had happened at the worst possible location, and the truck had rolled over and over on its way down a steep hillside, doing enormous damage both to the vehicle and to Dad.

Mum, my sisters, and brothers were all deeply distressed and shocked. Soon after, the manager of the oil refinery Dad worked for arrived. His name was Mr Jones, and he said that when Dad was rescued, he was in a critical state. The injuries included fractured vertebrae, two broken legs and a broken arm, along with severe head injuries and the massive shock that accompanied such a terrible accident.

At the hospital, the doctor advised us that the following forty-eight hours would be a life-and-death struggle. Even if Dad survived, there were real concerns that he might never be the same again, due to the trauma to his head.

The family prayed night and day all that week, calling on God to save the life of our poor father. Time seemed to stand still as the hours laboriously dragged their way past us. We felt suspended in a nightmare, covered in a fog of disbelief and despair. Mum was scared, as the economic climate had seen better days. The whole world was clawing its way out of a crippling depression, and for our family to be without a breadwinner was a dire situation indeed.

Someone up above must have heard our impassioned plea though, as Dad slowly started to show signs of improvement and was moved out of intensive care. Although we were overjoyed at this development, it turned out to be short lived. With Dad laid up in the hospital as he was, we fell on hard times. Reality reared its ugly head, and Mum could not make ends meet without an income. The oil refinery’s workers’ compensation of five shillings a week was not enough with five hungry children to feed and clothe. After about a month of things getting harder and harder, Mum told me that I would have to leave school and give her a hand to cope with my sisters and brothers.

So I left school and pitched in.

I needed a job of some kind to help us out, and I wasn’t fussy about what I did, as long as it produced money.

I applied for employment all over town, but over and over again, it was a polite refusal. Just when I thought there was no hope, the winds of change blew, and I found a job in the local billiard parlour. It turned out that I liked the job, and it gave me a bit of free time to practise snooker. On the quiet days, I could play for hours on end.

It was on one of those days that my boss, old Ronnie, stood close by and watched me play for some time. Taking me aside, he said, You’re a decent player kid, a natural, and you’ve got a good eye.

Thanks, Ronnie. I replied.

You should start playing in the money games James. On a Friday night, you’d have every chance of winning.

That’d be great, but I can’t afford to gamble. Every penny I earn goes to Mum to help her make ends meet for the family.

This brought a wry smile to old Ronnie’s face. You’re a good lad. Tell ya what, I’ll put the money up, and I’ll back you on the side of the mugs... Now, Flynn my boy, he went on, becoming quite animated, you know that all the big money is to be made here on a Friday and Saturday night – we’ll clean up!

Old Ronnie stood there waiting for a response, but I really wasn’t sure. Look, you said it yourself, he persisted. Your mum could use the extra money.

Oh yes, we sure could, but my mum won’t let me stay out late at nights since—

Have a talk with her then, he interrupted. Just explain how it would mean extra money for her to manage things, and ease the burden for the family.

When I arrived home that night, Mum was crying in the lounge room and I feared that something even worse must have happened to Dad. I soon found out that she was crying because the people from the refinery wouldn’t leave oil for the heater as we couldn’t afford to pay for it.

I told her not to worry, that we would somehow... I suppose that this was the start of my association with crime.

That night I grabbed four jerry cans and a set of bolt cutters out of the shed, started up Dad’s old truck and drove down to the refinery. Upon arriving I saw the place was deserted, so I got to work, cut the padlocks on the main gate, and drove around to the diesel oil tanks.

It was a chilly night, and I had never been so frightened in my life. I didn’t know what I was shaking from the most, the cold or the fear. I quickly regained perspective: our oil-burning furnace had run dry and I remembered that my family were all huddling together at home trying to keep warm. I was pissed off to say the least. The bastards from the refinery had literally left us out in the cold.

If only Dad were here, I thought to myself, but I was on my own.

Dad had spoken to me on my last visit to see him. James, he had said in his serious tone. You are the oldest son and the man of the house now. You’ll just have to cope.

So, cope I would.

The whole venture took me the best part of two hours, and when I arrived home, I found Mum beside herself with worry. She was upset that I had taken Dad’s truck and stolen oil from the refinery. I couldn’t agree with her, but I kept my own counsel on the matter. Deep within myself, I felt I had done the right thing – from a moral point of view anyway. Right then and there I knew I would do it again, and I did. Never again was the house or the family cold from a lack of heater oil.

I was fast approaching puberty, and I was as awkward as any other youth my age. The stirrings that I felt were still a complete mystery to me. Young boys going through puberty should be nailed into a barrel and fed through the bung hole – and I was no exception. Arriving home from work one day, I found that new people had moved in to the vacant house next door. My sister Kathleen was wrapped as it turned out that the new family had a girl around her age. Her name was Cynthia, and they had already organised going to school together.

Getting ready for the cot, I happened to glance out of the window across to the new neighbours’ house. There, standing at her bedroom window, naked, and looking over towards our house, was Kathleen’s new friend Cynthia. The mystery was starting to unfold before my very eyes... This being my first experience with the naked female form, I stood there dumbfounded before she eventually moved out of sight.

Not a bad looker, I thought wistfully to myself before pulling my blind down and jumping into bed.

A few days later I was doing some exercises in my room, and there she was again, this Cynthia. Standing stark naked at her window with the blind up.

My newfound awareness was surely being stretched to the limit!

Later that evening Kathleen and Cynthia were in our lounge room chattering and laughing to one another. What’s all the giggling about, you two? I asked.

Well, we are waiting for you to come and liven up the party, James, Cynthia said, before she and Kathleen started giggling away again.

A party? I thought.

Turns out it was Cynthia’s birthday and she had just turned fifteen. Being an up-and-coming young man of the world, I naturally assumed the role of leader and suggested, Well, if this is a party, we should be having fun – or at least be playing some sort of a party game.

Kathleen piped up and said, Let’s play hide and seek!

Yes! Cynthia agreed, Let’s play hide and seek.

Before I knew it, I found myself standing there alone. They had disappeared to hide, and I somehow found myself the seeker. My sister yelled for me to come and find them, so I set off on my odyssey.

Entering my bedroom, I found Cynthia just standing there. She looked beautiful and was staring at me inquisitively. My cheeks flamed crimson with embarrassment; bravado was deserting me at the speed of light. Fumbling along nevertheless, I somehow managed to get it right as I set the stage by closing the door and turning the light off.

I’m over here, James, Cynthia said softly.

Shit was definitely trumps by this stage; my meagre store of knowledge on the subject of girls was completely exhausted. It was an anxious young man who hoarsely whispered back, What do you want, Cynthia?

What do you think, James? she said, teasing me.

What I imagined, based on the gleanings I had managed to pick up from school-yard discussions and the billiard parlour, probably bore no resemblance to what this girl really wanted. And besides, the inexperienced should never make assumptions: it can be dangerous.

With leaden feet I walked over to where she was lying on my bed. I’m not going to hurt you, she said, running her fingers through my hair. I want to see if you are a man, or just a boy.

Needless to say, this comment did absolutely nothing to restore my confidence. Unable to speak, I just stood there and looked down at her. The dim light through my window unveiled an appearance of smugness, and just as I thought that things could only get better, they took a sudden nosedive.

You’ve been spying on me through my bedroom window, you pervert!

I’m no perv, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I said, lamely protesting my innocence.

Oh James, you’re such a liar, I’ve seen you.

Well, you’re the one who’s been standing there, why didn’t you pull down your blind then? I retorted.

Maybe I left the blind up because I wanted to.

Before I could answer back, she put her fingers over my lips to silence me, studying my face intently.

I did leave the blind up deliberately, James, hoping you would notice. Did you like what you saw?

I was at a total loss for what to say and before I could recover my composure, she cheekily began to laugh at me.

You did like what you saw, didn’t you? It’s written all over your face.

Moving closer to me she put her arms around my neck before gently pulling me down onto the bed with her. I felt her warm breath against my cheek and then her soft lips enfolding mine. I started to tremble. Wow! This was a kiss like none I had ever known before.

As we parted to come up for air, the taste of her lips was sweet on my mouth. Give me your hand, she demanded.

Taking my proffered hand, she placed it on one of her breasts. She put my other arm around her, then placed her hands around the back of my neck and pulled my head down towards her.

Kiss me, James, she whispered as her arms held me in a tight embrace.

I’ve never been a slow learner, and to me this was the greatest thing since Vegemite! Confidence fully restored, I began to laugh inwardly to myself. What a fool I’d been to be afraid of this. The spell was broken by my mother calling out that Ronnie had arrived to see me.

I’ll be right there Mum, I replied as Cynthia got up from the bed, straightening her clothes and fixing her hair.

Thanks James, that’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had. You really are a man, she said, smiling at me.

As we came out into the living room, there was Kathleen sitting on the lounge, smiling like the cat who’d swallowed the canary. I was obviously the victim of a prearranged seduction!

I went through the kitchen where old Ronnie was waiting for me. He asked me if I’d had a chat with Mum about playing snooker on Friday and Saturday nights. Shrugging my shoulders, I made up an excuse of being really busy, but truth be told I didn’t know how to approach it. I then asked if he would explain it all to her and so he did, assuring her that he would look after me and bring me straight home when the billiard parlour closed.

Unconvinced, Mum inquired as to how much extra he thought I would earn. Ten pounds a night... easy. Ronnie nodded confidently.

Mum was speechless and I could hardly believe it myself to be honest. My wages at the time only came to five shillings a week, and even before the accident, Dad only made thirty shillings a week. The sort of money Ronnie was talking about would be heaven sent for a family in our position. Dad had been in hospital for fourteen months by this time, and the doctors had warned us that it wasn’t over yet. He would more than likely be there at least a couple more months as he was having problems walking.

He’s a good player, and making the money is a foregone conclusion. Besides, what have you got to lose?

You could sell ice to an Eskimo, Ronnie. Mum relented. You’re right, we have nothing to lose. James can play.

I approached the first night with a mixture of apprehension and nervous tension. By the end of it however, a dawning awareness as to the ways easy money can be made by the bold ensued.

My experience with the refinery had proved that I had the ability to turn situations around to favour me. Snooker turned out to be no exception. I was envious of some of the young blokes at the game. A fair few were the same age as me, but they seemed to have pockets full of notes. They were all wearing nice new clothes (mine on the other hand were hand-me-downs from cousins and the like) and I wondered how they managed this lifestyle. After talking to a few of the boys, most of them seemed to have no real employment of any kind.

When that first night of my newfound profession drew to an end, Ronnie came up to me and congratulated me on a good night’s work. I told you so, he kept saying. I told you you’re a natural.

Arriving back home I found Mum waiting up for me. The tears rolled down her face when I placed the fourteen pounds I had made for the night into her hands. Are you OK, Mum? I asked, sitting down and putting my arm around her.

I don’t know what would have happened if this extra money you’ve made hadn’t come along right now. Things have been getting harder to cope with, she said, fighting back the tears.

Don’t worry, Mum, I said. Things will look up now, and Dad will be home soon. We’ll be right.

A few days later, I awoke to hear Mum singing. Catching the smell of freshly cooked bacon, I threw on my dressing gown and went into the kitchen. Mum and Kathleen were cooking bacon and eggs and my other siblings were sat around the table. It had been ages since we had something like this for breakfast; usually all the budget would allow for was a piece of bread with dripping. The whole family was smiling, and Kathleen came over and kissed me on the cheek to say thanks. She then went on to tell me how they had all been out shopping the previous day, and about everything they had bought.

It was one of the happiest days we had had in a long time – sort of like Christmas come early. After eating, I got one of Dad’s smokes out of a coat that was hanging in his wardrobe, and went for a walk to have it. As I strolled along the footpath, I heard a familiar voice behind me: I see that you’ve taken up smoking, James.

Turning around, I saw Cynthia approaching. However, my mind was still dwelling on all the money I had seen the other guys flashing around at the billiard parlour the other night. I was thinking about getting some of it for myself, so I really wasn’t in the mood to socialise and I continued by the way. Nonetheless, she kept calling, and eventually caught up and fell into step with me.

Do you mind if I walk with you?

Sure, if you want to.

As we walked, I mentioned that I’d heard she was off to the city the following day to work. She confirmed that she was leaving and then we walked for some time in silence. I heard a sniffling sound and turned to see that Cynthia was crying.

Without a doubt, one of my pet hates at that age was crying girls; it got to me every time. She didn’t want to leave for the city, she was sorry for teasing me on the day of her birthday, and about the naked exhibitions leading up to it, and on and on she went.

I agreed it was a crappy thing to do, but all this approach seemed to achieve was to turn the water works on even further. Blubbering, she asked, If I stop flirting and teasing will you still like me?

I suppose so, Cynthia, I replied arrogantly.

All of a sudden it dawned on me: what the hell was I saying?

Here was a girl who wanted me and was prepared to give me all the things that I had only dreamed of previously... And here I was, acting like a galah telling her to stop it!

Coming to my senses, I shut my trap and waited for her to say something.

Catching me completely off guard, Cynthia then asked if she could be my girl. I pointed out that it was going to be quite difficult, with her off to the city the following morning, however she was adamant that it would not matter, and promised to write every other day.

And so, my girl she was. We embraced each other as I kissed her tears away, and tasted the sweetness of her lips again, before heading back to my place.

As I walked into the house, I was greeted by the smell of the wholemeal scones that Mum was baking. Prior to Dad’s accident, these scones were a regular feature for the family on a Sunday night. They were a favourite of Dad’s, and he would often remark that supper was incomplete without them. Making Mum promise to keep some of them for me after work, I changed my clothes and kissed her goodbye. I was excited to get down to the billiard parlour once again.

Later that night I got into a conversation with a couple of young blokes about my own age. The two of them were a bit of an oddity... identical twins who went by the names of Lloyd and Kent. They looked and sounded so similar you had to take a mental note of who was who by the clothes they were wearing.

After a while I asked why they always seemed to have so much money. They took me into their confidence and told me it was by carrying out burglaries on various places.

Lloyd looked at me with a serious look on his face. You seem all right, Flynn, are you interested?

Kent chimed in. We know you’re here earning money for the family; we could use a guy like you if you need some extra cash.

I’ll have a think about it and get back to you, I said, noticing that old Ronnie was summoning me to table number three for my next game.

Don’t think too hard, James, Lloyd said, tapping the side of his head like a bit of a smart-arse as I made my way to the cue rack.

That night my mind was in turmoil as I played snooker. Thoughts of Cynthia going away the next day, the offer from Lloyd and Kent and the desire to help my family kept surfacing and rolling around in my head.

I lost seven games of snooker in a row. It never looked like I was getting close in a single one of them. Seeing I was right out of sorts, old Ronnie advised me to give it a rest for a while. I sat down next to the twins, who asked me if I had made a decision.

I reached into my pockets and took out a two-shilling piece. That’s all I have to show for a night’s work.

There’s just no way I can go back to pinching empty soft drink bottles from the back of the shops to get a few spare shillings, I thought to myself, and on a sudden impulse, I turned to Lloyd and Kent and said, Count me in.

What a momentous decision it was as we shook hands on the deal. Years down the track I realised this handshake was the real catalyst for my journey into a life of crime. What a wild ride it would turn out to be.

Arriving home that evening I was completely dejected. Mum was sitting by the fire waiting up for me and asked me how the night had gone. Hopeless, I said. Didn’t win a damn game all night. Old Ronnie’s a bit upset with me too.

Mum was measured as usual. Don’t worry about it too much, Son - you can’t expect to win every time you play.

But I do, Mum, I need to win for the family. I don’t want us to go without ever again, and it’s within my power to make sure of that.

As we sat having a cup of tea and some of those delicious scones she’d made, I attempted to make some small talk but I was completely preoccupied by the deal I’d made