Blood Is a Stranger (25 page)

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Authors: Roland Perry

BOOK: Blood Is a Stranger
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‘You should see what they can do with lasers, these days.'

‘Harry Cardinal's blood and dental records all matched up with the corpses',' she said, perplexed.

‘You're getting specific again,' Hewson said. He put his glasses on. ‘But you might do well to check who matched up all the records . . .'

Perdonny opened the silver foil and offered Cardinal the yellow-brown cake.

‘I'm not eating it,' Cardinal said, ‘especially if you don't tell me what it is.'

‘It's a special thing that some Moslem friends gave me
the recipe for twenty years ago,' Perdonny said closing the foil. ‘In the sixteenth century, Moslem fanatics prepared to face the conquering Christians. To give them the courage to face death and to kill, they used to take this. They were called Hashish eaters. Over the centuries Hashish became the derivitive of the word ‘assassin'. Some Islamic killers still take it. But the recipe is only known by a few.'

‘It's just hash then?'

Perdonny shook his head.

‘No. It's a special opiate mix,' he said.

‘You want me to take that?'

‘It numbs the fear but concentrates the energies on the mission.'

Cardinal looked apprehensively at the foil package. ‘Harry would be laughing,' he said with a rueful smile. ‘He would have loved me taking such a lethal mix!'

‘Have you ever taken drugs?'

‘No. As a kid in Korea, there was only alcohol. But I was never addicted. Occasionally I have too much now . . .'

‘You can't become addicted with one intake of this either.'

‘I don't want it.'

‘You must have some fear. This will overcome it.'

‘I have more than
some.
But I'm sure that kind of thing would slow me up.'

‘That's the point. It represses fear but sharpens the nerves and muscles you need.' Perdonny picked it up and held it in front of Cardinal. ‘Please, at least take it with you,' he said. ‘If the mission begins to overwhelm you, consider its value . . .'

The worst moments for Cardinal began when he returned to his hotel room carrying the case with the unassembled rifle. It was eight, and he had ninety minutes before he would make his final move. While he had been with Perdonny
in the safety of his villa he had kept his nerve. Alone, he felt a terror creep over him. He would be on his own until after the strike, and even then he would have to cover about a kilometre on foot. There was also the possibility that an innocent passer-by could be on the bridge. Perdonny said that it was used by fewer people at night, but that was no guarantee. He had told Cardinal to carry on regardless; it was unlikely that anyone would try to stop him. The problem of patrolling police and soldiers was outside Cardinal's control, but Perdonny had suggested that he not step near the bridge until the last moment.

‘After you have hit Chan,' Perdonny told him, ‘walk away from the bridge with the weapon against your side. Don't run until you're clear of the bridge. Then let the gun go.'

Cardinal went over the plan and three times assembled the weapon so that nothing was left to chance.

He lit a cigar and switched on the television. It was in Indonesian and more unsettling than relaxing. He switched it off. Cardinal put on a stocking mask that Perdonny had insisted he wear, and tried on a hooded anorak.

He removed the mask and looked out the window. It was raining. He wondered how much the wet would change things. He was concerned about being able to focus in the dark but recalled there was a light that Chan and his guards would have to pass under. Cardinal submerged his worries by thinking about his motive. If he didn't make Chan pay, no one would.

He also thought of Perdonny's motives. The little man had nothing to lose if Cardinal succeeded. Utun's position would be weakened because Chan was essential to his power. A failure was more problematic. Cardinal's worry was that Perdonny could isolate him and link him to the CIA.

He looked at his watch. It was close to nine. Cardinal unwrapped the silver foil containing Perdonny's cake.
He carved off a chunk with a spoon and remembered Perdonny's words: ‘Take no more than a tablespoon at a time. Too much can be counter-productive. You would go crazy.'

He took the prescribed amount. The honey taste surprised him. Then he lay back on the bed and tried to relax. The rain had become torrential. Cardinal felt comforted by it and lay listening to it for nearly half an hour.

He got up and wandered to the window. The unshielded light bulbs in the small market in the street behind his hotel were a blur as the roadside stalls were flooded. Cardinal watched the drops crashing down on the balcony, spraying on the window where they seemed to splatter in slow motion. He slid the window across. The cooling rain splashed on his face. But he did not feel it.

‘I'll go for a ride,' he said aloud. He buttoned up the anorak, picked up the case and walked out of the room. He took the stairs and found the door to the rear of the hotel. Cardinal lifted the anorak over his head as the rain pounded his skull.

He hurried around to the front of the hotel's basement where taxis were delivering people to the Pitstop disco. Cardinal found a Chinese driver who took him for the short trip to the point near a petrol station, only a kilometre from Jalan Wijama and the Embassy.

The driver accidentally took him some way past the station. Cardinal leant forward and asked the man to return. He saw his own reflection in the rear-vision mirror. At first he was surprised to see the beads of water on his forehead. He didn't feel as if he was perspiring. Then he realised that water from the anorak was trickling down his face.

Cardinal tipped the man well and watched the taxi move off. He looked at his watch. It was nearly ten. He set off at a brisk walk and reached a narrow alley that led to Wijama. He hesitated. He was in two minds whether to assemble the rifle here or wait until he was among the
trees by the road. It was then he realised that he had made the decision.

Rhonda wouldn't take no for an answer. When the receptionist said Cardinal was not in his room, she insisted that someone be sent to check on him. A few minutes later she was told that his room was empty. Rhonda rang Perdonny at his villa. It was obvious that she had disturbed something.

‘I can't talk to you now,' he said. ‘There are things happening tonight.'

‘Like what?'

‘Rhonda, I'll speak to you tomorrow.'

‘I've been trying to phone Ken,' she said. ‘I have to speak to him urgently. The hotel says he's not in his room. I thought he might be with you.'

‘He had dinner here and left me at about eight. What did you want to tell him?'

‘I'm worried that he might be doing something dangerous,' she said. ‘He must know that it's possible that his son is still alive.'

‘What makes you say that?'

Rhonda began to rattle off her reasons.

‘Rhonda, I must go,' Perdonny said. ‘Let's speak tomorrow.'

Cardinal put on the mask, pulled the anorak hood over it and waited behind trees twenty paces from the footbridge. He had assembled the rifle and loaded it. Despite the drug, he was nervous. But he was able to concentrate. As soon as the hearse passed under the footbridge, he planned to take up position on it and wait for Chan to get out. He had focused on the gate. His main worry was whether he would be able to see Chan's face well enough.

Thunder sounded like a distant drum, and the rain
came down harder.

Cardinal sheltered under the trees and practised lining up the target. I'm not going to miss, he kept telling himself. Minor flooding on the wide street had caused traffic to slow. Cardinal calculated that the weather would delay the hearse by twenty minutes. He watched each passing vehicle send up a spray of water as it went under the bridge. Pedestrians had not used it in the time Cardinal had been there, and he was thinking how useful the foul weather was when two figures appeared on the other side of the road. They came up the steps and onto the bridge. Cardinal found himself urging them to hurry or get off. He cursed as they reached the centre of the bridge and the point from which he planned to make the attack. The two people were taking their time. Cardinal looked back towards the gates. A vehicle had pulled up. It was the hearse. He dashed for the steps and bounced up them as the two people were coming down.

Cardinal reached the middle of the bridge just as the gates began to open. Cardinal's fear was that Perdonny's man on the inside had failed to jam them. The hearse slid forward. The gates began to close. They crashed into the front of the vehicle. It reversed to let them clang shut. Cardinal had the weapon protruding over the bridge. They're trying to automate those damned gates again, Cardinal thought. Seconds later, the gates began to open once more. The vehicle bounced forward, but the gates jammed and hit the vehicle, so hard this time that a headlight shattered. There was a one metre gap to negotiate, but if any passengers tried it, they would have to climb over the vehicle's front.

Cardinal heard a shout from the bottom of the footbridge. The two people who had crossed it were signalling. Cardinal turned the rifle in their direction, and they scampered for the trees. He looked once more to the gates. The driver was out, inspecting the damage. He argued with others inside and indicated they could climb over the
vehicle, but the passengers were reluctant to get out.

Cardinal's heart pounded. ‘C'mon! C'mon!' he muttered.

An explosion rocked the area, and the driver ducked back into the hearse. Cardinal glanced towards the city skyline as smaller explosions were heard. Cardinal thought the hearse might retreat. The brake light went off, but instead of reversing the driver tried to force the gates open. The engine revved, and a cloud of exhaust drifted through the rain.

The far rear door opened. Cardinal tightened his grip on the rifle. ‘C'mon you bastards!' he whispered. People began to get out. Cardinal caught a glimpse of the first person. A woman! he thought. Where's Chan?

The second figure out was quickly surrounded by two men from the rear and another from the front seat.

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