CHAPTER THIRTY
Travis checks into a sixty-dollar-a-night motel in Abbotsford. It is old, and the room smells of a recent air-freshener blast and mothballs. A colourful bedspread was tucked into the bed, a TV and small fridge, a table and chair, a small sofa, like a million other motels all over the world. He goes into the bathroom. The shower rose is the size of a frisbee. One good thing about these old places; excellent water pressure and the big rose combination is most welcome.
He has organised to meet Johnny Tran at a massage parlour in a small side street off Victoria Street. He calls Babus, she answers, ‘Travis, hi.’
‘Hi, babe.’
‘Where are you? You took off yesterday morning in a hurry.’
‘I’m in Melbourne. I’m on a PI case.’
“Melbourne. Who hired you?’
‘Some guy I never heard
