Deadly Diplomacy (32 page)

Pounding up the stairs into the bathroom, he knelt down at the bathroom cabinet under the sink and pulled out a wash bag. Unzipping it, he turned it upside down. Ellen Chambers’ diary fell onto the floor.

Hearing police sirens, he shoved the diary back into the wash bag and ran with it downstairs and out of the front door. He could see the blue lights of a patrol car flashing in the darkness. As it approached, he ran up to the driver’s window. “Have you seen Roberts?” he shouted to the driver.

“No.”

“The two women have escaped over the back fence. Drive around the area and look for them.”

The policeman nodded and drove off.

Sangster pulled out his mobile and called Dalton. “Roberts got here before me.”

Dalton gave a sharp intake of breath.

“It’s all right. It looks like the women got away. I found the Consul’s shoe in the back alley.” He paused. “Get forensics out here straightaway, Dave. I want evidence to prove Roberts was in this house.”

“Right.”

“And I want the whole area scoured for the two women. They’re on foot, so they can’t have got far.”

“Right.”

There was a pause.

“I’ve got the diary, Dave. It was right where Jess said Susan had hidden it.”

“That’s something I suppose.”

“Listen carefully, Dave. I want you to write these letters and numbers down.” Sangster turned to the back page of the diary, and read the codes out loud to Dalton, explaining what Jess had said about the two bank accounts. “The Government know about the account in Ellen Chambers’ name in the British Overseas Territory of the Turks and Caicos Islands. That account is easy to find. It was meant to be. But I’m sure you’ll need the technical experts to find the second account hidden in those letters and numbers. When they do, and discover who that account belongs to, we’ll find out who’s behind all this.”

“Right, Boss. I’m onto it.”

“And Dave.” Sangster paused. “I want you to go straight to the DC and tell him what’s happened. But I don’t want anyone else to know we have that diary. If Roberts finds out, he’ll have no reason to keep the women alive if he’s holding them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Boss,” said Dalton. “And we’ve had a response from that Melbourne security consultancy Roberts worked for. They say Roberts spent two months working on a project at Western Energy. He advised all their top officials and families on their personal security at work and in their homes.”

“He’s had access to their families and houses?” Sangster was incredulous.

“Yep. He also spent a month in the Western Energy’s HQ, trainin’ staff on security awareness.”

“So he knows them all?”

“Yep.” Dalton hesitated. “But what I don’t get, Boss, is
why
he’s done so little to conceal his identity. That proves he’s not the full dollar, if you ask me.”

“Oh no, Dave. He’s not stupid. Quite the reverse. As I said before, he
wants
us to know it’s him. He’s pleased with himself. He’ll never stop killing now he’s started. He’s enjoying it too much, and he thinks he’s got us beat. Well the bastard had better think again.”

The pavement glowed white in the moonlight as Jess ran. Only the sound of her ragged breathing cut into the silence of the night. With lungs ready to burst, she stopped and bent over to catch her breath. No time to linger. Looking up, there was no sign of Susan. Younger and fitter, she was well ahead.
Run, Susan, run!

Jess glanced over her shoulder and caught a flicker of movement. Tom’s words echoed in her head.

You see how dangerous this man is…

She looked about in panic. All around, houses stood on large suburban blocks, spaced some distance away from each other. What should she do? Scream? Bang on doors?

Something brushed against her face. She cried out.

He’s an expert tracker and hunter…

Stumbling sideways, she dropped down behind a garden hedge out of sight. She felt dizzy with exhaustion and fear. She turned and looked up at the sprawling brick house. It was set well back from the road, with a long driveway. An electric lamp lit up the swimming pool area. Inside, everything was in darkness. There was no one at home.

He’s enjoying the thrill of the chase…

She gasped as a soft breeze rustled through the hedge, making it sway. It wasn’t cold, but she could hear her teeth chattering. Clamping her jaw tight, she crouched down.

A twig snapped close by.

She thought she heard a faint exhalation of breath.

He likes to kill…

She fell back, flapping her arms in terror to ward off the gun she imagined pointed at the back of her head, tensing for a knife piercing her heart.

A footstep swished through the grass.

She jumped to her feet and ran for her life. On and on she fled, half running, half limping until she saw a bright light ahead. A neon sign. A petrol station.

She ran up to the forecourt. There were no cars. Seeing a light in the office, she ran over and pulled the door handle. It was locked. She pressed her face against the window and saw a jacket on the back of a chair. “
Help!
” she shouted, banging her fists on the window. “
Open the door!
”

Suddenly, a face reflected in the window from behind. Eyes widening in panic, she went to run.

Too late.

She saw a raised arm. She felt a crack to the back of her head. Searing pain engulfed her as she slipped to the ground.

*

She felt she was floating in that twilight zone: half asleep, half awake. Her head was pounding so hard, her eyes seemed to throb in rhythm. She forced her eyes open, but there was only darkness. She could hear the low rumble of an engine and feel herself being shaken about. She tried to sit up, but her head hit something. Putting out her hand, she jumped when she touched something warm.

The pain in her head was excruciating… the smell of petrol… the nausea. Mercifully, she floated away again into deep sleep.

Sangster’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he completed a full circle of the area. This was pointless. He’d have to leave the search to the patrol cars and get back to HQ. Driving to the end of Susan’s road, he stopped and looked across the field. Seeing the prominent tower and pointed gable of a church on the other side of the field, his foot hesitated on the accelerator. Just a quick check before heading back.

Driving around the field’s deserted perimeter road, he pulled up outside the church and lowered the window to get a good look. The brick and concrete building stood in total darkness.

His stomach lurched: the door was open!

He grabbed his torch and drew his gun. He walked through the cast-iron gate, and stepped onto the path. After one crunching footstep on gravel he jumped onto the grass, making his way silently to the church door as he dodged the gravestones. The rain had stopped now and the air was humid. He could feel the water from the grass seep through his shoes. Outside the open door he listened for any movement inside. Nothing. He stepped over the threshold and paused to accustom his eyes to the dark. Not a sound.

He switched on his torch and followed the beam around the church. It picked out muddy footprints on the stone floor. Following them, it led him to the back of the church, right up to the back door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. Flashing the beam around the area and along the back pew, he saw pools of water on the seat. Had Jess and Susan got soaked in the rain and sat there? He returned to the door and tried the handle again. Definitely locked. The beam of the flashlight reflected something shiny. That’s when he noticed the bullet lodged in the wood. Suddenly his mobile rang, echoing in the church. He jumped, eyes constantly scanning, as he answered.

It was Dalton. “Good news, Boss. We found that prossie who complained about Roberts being rough.”

Sangster kept his eyes watchful as he listened.

“She admitted Roberts picked her up for working the streets,” Dalton went on, “but she says he let her go with the promise of sex.”

“Did he now?” Sangster said, tersely.

“When he was ready, he picked her up in his jeep and took her to a motel in the Valley. Same place on two occasions, she says.”

“What’s the name of the motel?” Sangster barked.

“The Golden Burra.” Dalton went on. “But here’s the strange thing, Boss. She says the first time she went to the motel, Roberts was weird but okay. He made her strip and lie on the floor. He put a flower in her hand and sat next to her for an hour, but he didn’t want to have sex. So when he called and picked her up the second time, she wasn’t worried. But she should have been, this time things got nasty.”

“What happened?”

“He made her strip naked and lie on the floor again, but this time he got out a knife. He kept running the blade all over her body. She got scared and tried to make a run for it. He held her down and cut her left breast until the blood ran. That was enough for him to… satisfy himself.”

“She’s lucky to be alive.”

“Shall I send someone to check out the motel?” Dalton asked. “Maybe he’s livin’ there?”

“It would be a good place to hide out. No one asks any questions.”

“Yep,” said Dalton. “The woman said she saw a suitcase and some clothes in there. It didn’t look like he’d rented it for the night.”

“Right. I’m on my way to the motel, Dave. Meet me there. But before you leave HQ, get forensics over to St Mary’s Church. It’s on the other side of the field, close to the Susan Chambers’ house.”

“Is that where you are?”

“Yes. There’s a bullet lodged in the back door.” He could feel his stomach turning. “There are signs the women have been here, but there’s no sign of them now.”

Dalton’s voice faltered. “Do you think he’s got them?”

Sangster struggled to catch his breath. “If he has, he’s taken them somewhere else now.” He hurried over to the main door. “I’m going straight to the Valley, Dave. Radio those motel details to me in the car.”

“Right, Boss. See you there.”

Sangster ran down the gravel path to the car. If ever your cool head and sharp brain worked for you, Jess, let it work for you now.

Kneeling in front of the grate, he watched the papers curl and burn as he put a match to them. Lively sparks shot in the air warming his hands and face. He’d always loved the glow and crackle of flames, especially around a campfire in the deep stillness of night, with only the sounds of crickets and nightjars, and the sigh of the hot wind rustling dry leaves, to keep him company. Even as a boy he was happiest in the bush. He liked being out there, all alone. Just him and the wilderness, where no one could mess with his head or hurt him.

But that was then. Things were different now. He’d be going home a man; a rich man at that. He’d buy the farm. Be his own boss. Kowtow to no one.

Little pieces of blackened paper floated up as he stuck a poker into the charred remains and swirled them around to make sure they were completely burnt.

He still felt pumped up from the sight of the
Echo
building going up in flames. What a blaze! It was those two bitches’ fault. He thought they were in there with that diary. Still, he’d got them now, and they’d soon tell him where they’d hidden it. He’d make them sorry they ever led him on that chase.

He stopped poking the embers as another thought took hold in his brain. Imagine setting fire to the
whole
stinking city and watching it burn to nothing but dust and ashes, back to the bush it once was.

He forced himself to focus on the job in hand. He had to get the diary
and
the money before he could leave.

He was just
so
ready.

He pulled out his police ID and looked at it one last time. He tossed it in the grate. Watching it go up in flames too, total exhilaration coursed through him. He wouldn’t miss DC Roberts, that’s for sure. Part of him wished he could stick around to see those idiots’ faces when they found out,
if
they ever found out.

The invisible man, me!

He stood up and went over to his open suitcase on the single bed. Next to it lay his gun and knife. He looked around the dingy motel room, with its small bed and vinyl furniture. He wouldn’t miss the saggy mattress, that’s for sure. Still, he’d felt comfortable here with no one asking any questions, and regular action from the girls on the street outside.

He picked up a grainy photo of a woman, holding the hand of a small boy. He stared at it for a while, and placed it carefully inside the suitcase.

Yes, it
was
time. He felt almost elated at the thought of going home after all these years.

But when his mobile rang, his mood changed in a flash. Only one person had this number. He answered and listened. Then he said: “I
told
you I’d get the diary, didn’t I? And that’s exactly what I’m doing. But I want the money first.” He wasn’t stupid, he knew the bastard would do him over if he could. “No.
You
bring the money here. You know where I am.” His voice was hard. “And make sure you come alone.” He punched the end call button and threw the mobile on the bed.

“
Controlling bastard!
” he spat, as he picked up the gun and stroked the barrel.

“Now that’s
your
mistake!”

*

Hunched over the steering wheel, Sangster peered at the Golden Burra Motel through the car windscreen. Light evening rain misted the glass, distorting his view. He switched on the wipers to clear it, but they just made it worse. He wound down the window and looked out.

The motel was a single-level block of accommodation, with a palm tree on either side of the driveway entrance. The rooms were set out in the shape of a horseshoe, with individual parking spaces marked out in front of each one.

“Golden Burra” was advertised on a painted board on top of what looked like an office or reception at the entrance. Next to it a neon vacancy sign was lit up. He could see lights flickering on the office blinds. Someone was in there, watching TV.