Deadly Diplomacy (2 page)

“I thought you should know first.”

“He’ll go ballistic if he hears about it through the media.”

“I should go to Brisbane really,” Simon said. “I
am
the Press Officer. But I have to stay here for the Foreign Secretary’s visit. Don’t forget he’s arriving today.”

Forget?
Jess rolled her eyes. How could she forget? Nigel had been up to high dough about it for weeks, fretting over the programme and guest lists for meetings and dinners. “Don’t worry about the media, Simon, I’ll deal with them in Brisbane.”

“By yourself?”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean? I’m the Consul, for God’s sake. Look, you might be responsible for the media, but I’m responsible for the protection of British citizens.”

“I just thought you’d have your hands full, that’s all. But if you’re happy to take the media on too, they’re all yours.” And he hung up, before she could say anything else.

That was Simon, she thought, as she put the receiver back, a diplomat by profession and nature. Except lately, he seemed to have something to say about everything she did. Who did he think he was? He held no authority over her; they were the same grade. Then she cringed as her mind flashed back to Friday evening on the sofa at his place. Who was she trying to kid? She knew his interest in her was more than just work.

Sighing, she glanced out of the window. The huge sun had formed a yellow disc in the cloudless sky behind the Federal Parliament, sparking another day to life.

But not for Ellen Chambers.

Jess pictured a woman’s battered body lying lifeless on the beach, blood-red surf oozing around her. Who was Ellen Chambers, she wondered? And why was she at The Palms last night?

She went over to her briefcase on the chair and pulled out her diary to check her schedule. Flipping to the right page, she saw the date ringed. Of course she hadn’t forgotten that 12 years ago today she’d joined the Foreign Office as a young diplomat; it just wasn’t something she felt like celebrating. It had been both the best and the worst decision of her life. But she didn’t want to dwell on the past any more; she’d already been up half the night. She picked up her mobile and pressed the speed dial for the Vice-Consul, although she didn’t expect Sharon to be up so early. A social butterfly, Sharon rarely went to bed before midnight. But she’d always been a live wire, even in the British Embassy in Jakarta, where they’d first met and worked together. Again, Jess pushed all thoughts of Jakarta and the past firmly from her mind, and left details of the murder on Sharon’s voicemail.

Going over to the wardrobe, she dragged out her cabin bag to pack the essentials. Now she’d got used to the idea of the trip, Queensland’s sub-tropical winter weather had its appeal; and it would be good to get away from freezing Canberra for a few days.

Her mobile rang. She went over to the dressing-table to pick it up, but it went silent before she could answer. Sitting down on the stool, she dipped her make-up brush into a pot of bronzer and swept it over her eyelids and cheekbones. Her mobile rang again and, this time, she answered, quickly. “Hello?”

“Is th-that the British Consul?”

The shaky female voice on the line threw Jess until she realised who it must be. “Yes. Is that Susan Chambers?”

“My s-sister’s been murdered in Brisbane.”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Jess said, kindly, surprised the next of kin was in touch so soon.

“
Please!
” Susan whispered. “You must help me.”

There was a crackle on the line; then it went dead.

Jess stared at her mobile, and waited for Susan to ring back. Nothing. When she tried to return the call, she saw Susan Chambers had withheld her number. Frowning, Jess put her mobile down again and picked up her comb. As she ran it through the wet, blonde hair tumbling on her shoulders, she pulled open the dressing-table drawer and fumbled inside. Her fingers tightened around her silver hair-clasp. Once again she saw Jack’s smiling face and soft brown eyes. A familiar sadness settled on her as she put his gift to her lips, and clipped her hair back to let it dry naturally.

Taking a deep breath, she went back over to the wardrobe and stepped into her black skirt and high heels. She looked at the assured woman staring back at her in the mirror.
Jess is a real trooper
, her previous line manager had written in her annual appraisal.
Concise, hard-working and conscientious, she’s like a terrier when she gets her teeth into something, she never lets go.
Jess sighed. That was the professional woman she wanted her colleagues to see, but she felt their penetrating stares, and heard their whispers murmured in her wake. How could she be so cool? How could she get on with her life so easily?

The bleep of a voicemail interrupted and she hurried back to her mobile to play the message.

It’s Susan again. I must talk to you… but don’t phone me back. It’s not safe… I’ll contact you.

Not safe?
Jess frowned. What
was
the girl talking about? She replayed the message, listening carefully to every word. Susan Chambers’ voice sounded desperate with grief and shock; and Jess knew how that felt. But, however much she felt for Susan, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer for her to call again; she had to get to the office to clear emails and talk to staff before she left for Brisbane.

Slipping her mobile into her jacket pocket, she looked around the room to check she had everything. Her eyes softened as they came to rest on the photo of Jack and Amy on the bedside cabinet. Picking it up, she brushed her fingertips across the glass and tucked it into her cabin bag.

His face hardened as he touched the knife in its sheath. His heart was pumping so hard he could hear the sound of his own blood coursing around his body. Fear was primeval, it took total control of the whole body and mind; whereas panic was just a nervous collapse and a waste of energy. But it wasn’t fear or panic driving him that morning; he was incapable of feeling either emotion. It was pure exhilaration. The day he’d waited so long for had finally arrived.

He stopped to look up at the sky. Light was beginning to streak in from the west, breaking up the purple blackness of night. He listened. The crickets had ended their night chorus. There were no bats flapping around the trees either, which meant they were back at their daytime roosts at the creek.

Satisfied the hotel forecourt was empty of cars and buses, he slipped up to the front entrance and looked through the window into the lobby. Except for a lone receptionist, it was deserted. He took a step back and scanned the building’s white-washed façade and four floors of guestrooms. Was anyone watching? But the rooms were still in darkness; and their doors and windows shut tight. All he could hear was the hum of air conditioners vibrating in window frames.

He took another look over his shoulder and hurried on. For a tall man, he was light on his feet, a way of walking that came naturally. He’d been born robust; it was in his genes. And of course he kept himself supremely fit.

As he skirted around the side of the hotel, his eyes darted everywhere. The fresh morning air cooled his cheeks after the night rain. He sniffed the air, like an animal in its territory, and breathed in the scent of damp earth mingling with fallen eucalyptus leaves from the gum trees. The heady aroma energised him, making him feel alive. This was
his
time of day. Both the early morning and night were perfect for hunting.
That
was in his genes too.

He was just
so
ready.

From his vantage point, he studied the hotel grounds. Not a soul about except for one rookie cop posted down at the crime scene. He shook his head in disbelief. Where were forensics and the top guys? The swirling sound of the sea and the strong smell of brine told him the tide was coming in. He looked up at the sky again. There was still no crescent sun on the horizon, which meant he had a few minutes to take a closer look. Just to make sure.

Sidling into the bushes, he tracked his way under cover down to the jetty. Now, he was real close to the young cop, but the idiot was too busy having a quiet smoke to notice him.

He trained his night vision monocular on the corpse, running the scope over her whole body.

Look at the state of you. Well, you’ve only got yourself to blame, you know. You shouldn’t have told anyone. That was your mistake.
And now you know why… the devil was by your side!

His fingers tightened around the knife as he drew it from the sheath. He took a few silent paces forward into the shadows of a palm tree, eyes burning as he watched the young cop throw his cigarette butt on the ground and stamp on it, completely unaware of the threat. The anticipation of the kill washed over him like a wave of excitement, the desire strong in the pit of his stomach. He
so
wanted to draw blood; to feel that joy again; that release. But he knew he wouldn’t do it, even though he could. He shrank back into the bushes. It wasn’t empathy or guilt that stopped him killing the cop; those emotions were beyond him too. It just wasn’t in the plan.

Making his way back up to the hotel, he slipped through the staff entrance at the rear of the building. No one about. He ran up the stairs to the next floor and paused outside the stairwell door to peer through the small window. No one in the corridor. He slipped on his gloves. Knowing he didn’t have to worry about CCTV in this hotel, or the police, yet, he pushed through the door and walked along the corridor to the room he wanted. Quickly, he inserted a key card into the lock. It clicked open and he stepped inside. The door swished closed softly behind him.

He looked around.
Now, where is it?

He headed straight for the open suitcase on the luggage stand and carefully searched inside, confident no one would ever know he’d been there. While he worked, he was aware of every sound outside in the corridor, every creak of a door, every voice, every footfall.

Look at these soft, silk panties and stockings. Nice! You always thought you were somethin’ special, didn’t you? The truth is you were nothin’ but a slut.

He frowned and straightened up as he looked around the room. Walking over to the dressing-table, he pulled open the top drawer and looked inside.

You might as well give it up. You know I’m goin’ to find it, there’s no one round here capable of stoppin’ me. I’m so good, I’m invisible. Well I walked straight in here, didn’t I?

Didn’t I?

Hearing the 8am news start on the radio, Jess pressed down on the accelerator along State Circle and overtook a car caked in the red soil of the Outback. It was an unusual sight in the well-heeled streets of Canberra, or the ‘Bush Capital’ as it was often called because of its location in the heart of the wilderness. Turning off Commonwealth Avenue, she pulled up outside the steel gates of an ordinary three-storey office block in the Embassy quarter of town. She could see nothing over the high perimeter wall except the Union Jack flapping on the roof, to signal this was British territory. She smiled at the security guard and wound down her window.

“Hi, Sam, how are you this morning?”

“All the better for seeing you, Jess.” His beaming face looked red with cold as he looked up at the sky. “It’s goin’ to be a ripper today.” He pressed a silver button set into the wall and the gates rumbled open.

Driving in, the sparkling sun blinded her as it bounced off the British High Commission’s glass entrance. She had to pull down the sun visor to be able to see to reverse into her assigned space. On the radio, the newsreader was beginning a piece on the UK’s gloomy economic prospects. Jess switched off the engine and listened. It made her think of home, and of her last year in London. She didn’t want to remember, but how could she forget trying to forge a new life alone? She’d thrown herself into her job at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. But thoughts of Jack and Amy consumed every waking moment
and
her nightmares.
I must stop thinking…
She laid her head back on the seat rest and closed her eyes. Every nerve in her body was on edge this morning. And she knew why.

Tomorrow would have been Amy’s fifth birthday.

Her mobile rang in her pocket. “Hello?” she answered.

“Where
are
you, Jessi
caah
?”

Nigel’s voice grated on her. He’d already left two voice messages saying he wanted to see her urgently, and she was going as fast as she could. “I’m here. I had to pack a bag, and book…”

The phone went dead in her ear as he hung up. She let out an exasperated sigh. Nigel sounded really wound up, as she knew he would be with the Foreign Secretary arriving. If anything went wrong with the visit, he knew it would reflect badly on him. And that’s all he cared about. She grabbed her bags and got out of the car. Her foggy breath led the way as she hurried up the path, high heels slipping on the frosty stones. Reaching the side door, she punched the security code into the push button lock and let herself into the building. Dropping her bags on the desk in her ground floor office, she hung her coat on the back of the door, and rummaged in her bag for her diary. Then she ran up the stairs to Nigel’s office. But outside his door, hearing his loud voice, she stopped dead.

“
Christ, Tony. I can’t believe it!
”

She peered through the crack in the door, and saw Nigel sitting at his huge desk, on the phone. She wondered whether to wait or come back later. She had a lot to do before she left for Brisbane, but he
had
said he wanted to see her urgently. She hovered…

“You did
what?
” Nigel’s voice was harsh. “But I gave you that in
confidence.
”

That made Jess’s ears prick up. As she moved closer to the door to hear better, her hand knocked against the wall and her diary clattered to the floor.

“Who’s out there?” Nigel shouted.

“It’s only me.” Jess picked up her diary and stepped into the doorway where Nigel could see her. “I can come back later if you’re busy.”