The Son (31 page)

‘Don't worry about it. You can pay me back later.'

‘Thank you.'

He sounded stilted. I guessed others were listening.

‘Saturday would be fine, I think. Not too early. Got something on Friday night, don't want to miss that … Saturday evening, is there a flight Saturday evening? Or maybe Sunday?'

‘I'll have to check. Can I ring you back?'

‘No, it's okay, I'll ring you later … thanks. Saturday evening would be okay, or Sunday …'

I scribbled his words as he spoke, trying to read some meaning into them, some hidden message. Maybe there was something in his insistence on the days, Saturday, Sunday. I tried another tack.

‘I can come and pick you up, take you to the airport. Do you need any luggage? I can lend you some.'

‘No, it's alright, I won't have much luggage – I like travelling light …'

‘Alright. Let me know if you need anything.'

‘Thanks. Don't worry. I'll be okay. How is she?'

‘Your aunt? She's fine. She's keen to get back here. But she's very worried about her mother. That's why she wants you to go and see her too.'

‘Yeah, she's nice … I like my nan …'

‘Anything else I can do for you, Eric? In the meantime?'

‘No, thanks, I'll be alright … I'll give you a ring later on … maybe tomorrow …'

‘Okay. Look after yourself then.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Ring me if you need anything.'

‘Yeah, thanks. Bye.'

I hung up, and rang Considine at once. He answered straightaway.

‘Roger's here,' he said. ‘He wants to speak to you.'

‘I don't–'

Too late. Roger's voice came on the line, sounding grim.

‘Paul? I told you you shouldn't–'

‘Fuck off Roger. I want to talk to Brian.'

‘Paul–'

‘Put Brian back on. Or else I hang up.'

He obeyed, with much gnashing of teeth no doubt. Considine came back on.

‘Paul?'

‘Sorry Brian, but you're the one I need to talk to. You're the one who has to run things here.'

I told him what Eric had told me, as accurately as I could from my notes. He listened in silence.

‘Hold on,' he said. I waited as he conferred with the others.

‘You're right. It fits. Most of it anyway. They did have a code.'

‘What was it?'

‘Based on time slots and days of the week. If he rang her they were going to talk about the next time they could get together. Today was out of the question. Tomorrow – Thursday – meant this afternoon, before six. Friday meant between six and eight. Saturday meant eight to ten. Sunday meant after ten.'

‘Sounds as if it's planned for tonight then, probably late-ish.'

‘Sounds like it.'

‘What about the rest? The luggage bit?'

‘Probably means a handgun. They had a second code, using heavy for a rifle, light for a handgun. He said he would be travelling light?'

‘Yes. That's what he said.'

‘Sounds as if that's what he meant.'

‘What about the chill bit? I've caught a bit of a chill?'

‘Not sure. Not part of the code. Maybe it's for real. Or maybe it was meant as a warning. I'm being watched, or something like that. You're sure that's all he said?'

‘Yes. You've got it, word for word.'

‘Thanks. That's great. At least now we know he's back in town and we have some idea of what's likely to happen. Thanks Paul, you've done a great job.'

I thought.

‘You know what, Brian? I think I know what they're going to do.'

‘Good for you. Wish I did!'

‘Can I come and see you? I need to talk to you about it.'

‘Can't you tell me now?'

‘No. It's too complicated to discuss over the phone. Can we meet somewhere? Just you and me. I'd like to discuss this just with you first.'

‘You're sure?'

‘Yes. This is only a guess, but if I'm right this is something you need to know, and I need to tell you, without anybody else there.'

‘Alright. How soon can you get here?'

‘Forty minutes?'

We made an appointment for ten o'clock, in Hyde Park, near the Anzac memorial, a stone's throw from Police Headquarters across the road on College Street.

He was there, in a dark suit, the better to blend in with the crowd. We found an empty bench and sat down.

‘This is what I think,' I said. I outlined what I'd surmised. He listened in silence.

‘I can't prove any of it,' I said. ‘But it fits. And I think Roger knows it too. That's why I wanted to talk to you alone, Brian. I know you both don't want Loc to get killed, Bentinck possibly even less than you. But he's working to a different agenda from yours, and I think he's prepared to sacrifice Jason if need be. I'm not, and I don't think you are either.'

‘No. I don't want anyone to get killed.'

‘I don't care how noble the cause is. And frankly I don't think it's all that noble.'

He nodded.

‘We talked it over after you rang,' he said. ‘It makes sense. I've had a funny feeling about this. That cop's instinct I was telling you about. There's something smelly about it.'

‘What are you going to do to stop it?'

‘Well, what I was going to do all along. Only better now you've told me all this. The Vietnamese don't want any police presence on their floor, but we've booked rooms on the floor below, without telling them. There's a quick way up by way of the stairs. And we'll have two uniformed police in the lobby and some in the street outside, in case the demonstrators try to get close to the building. Though they probably won't try that at night.'

‘How do you think he's going to try to get in?'

‘No idea. What do you think?'

‘Remember what I said? That I thought I knew why they wanted to use him? Because he didn't look Asian? I think he's going to come in the front door, under some pretext, looking very innocent and non-threatening. Maybe to visit one of the residents.'

‘We've checked all the residents, there's no one there who fits the bill.'

Thank you Maisie, I thought.

‘Will your guys be able to spot him?'

‘Yes. They've all got a photo of him.'

‘Presumably you'll search everyone who comes in.'

‘Of course. All hand luggage. Anything they bring in with them. And we'll run a metal detector over them too.'

‘You'll be doing that in the lobby, I take it.'

‘Yes. As soon as they get in. Just inside the door.'

‘Can I make a suggestion? Go one further. Take a room on the ground floor, near the lobby, and take everyone there. Especially if they're carrying something. That allows you to do more thorough searches if you want. Then when Jason gets in, take him there too. Search him too of course. Go through all the motions. But put body armour on him.'

He looked at me, his dark eyes steady.

‘You really think they're going to try to kill him, don't you.'

‘I would, if I were them.'

There was little else to discuss. For form's sake I asked if I could be included in his operation, but he refused, as I expected, politely but firmly.

‘I can't, Paul. This is a police job. I can't have any civilians. Too risky. Besides, Bentinck's right, you know. You're too close to this, you're too emotionally involved. Sorry. I know you mean well, but this has to be totally professional. That's the only way I can be sure we'll do everything right.'

I nodded, and looked resigned.

‘Go home, Paul. Get some sleep. You look exhausted. Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to him.'

‘I know. Thanks, Brian.'

I walked back to the city, caught a train at Town Hall station, heading for North Sydney. If anyone was following that's where I wanted them to think I was going. I got off at Wynyard instead, the next stop along. I bought some take-away food, checked again I wasn't followed – my street skills were rusty, but I was fairly sure I wasn't – then walked up to Clarence Street and the apartment building. No one paid attention as I went in. I went up to the apartment, and settled down to wait.

Waiting. I did a lot of waiting that day. It's not something I enjoy, but I was used to it from my old profession, and there was a reason. Security would only get tighter as the day progressed; if I left it too late to get into position I might be stopped or even recognised as I entered the building. That wasn't a risk I could take. So I made the best of it, read the papers, used the time to catch up on badly-needed sleep.

Around two I got up, ate my cold take-away food, then watched the news on TV, looking for coverage of the demonstrations in Canberra. They had been particularly vocal the evening before, flags and banners waving, people shouting and surging against the barriers, occasionally throwing objects, police moving in to make a few arrests. I was more interested in Loc, and there was coverage of him too, being greeted at the airport, shaking hands with the Deputy Prime Minister, arriving at Parliament House, meeting the PM. A thin, spare man, taller than the average Vietnamese, with iron-grey hair and a large bony head, almost simian with its protruding bony shelf above the eyes. When he turned to the camera to make a brief speech in slow but serviceable English there was a flash of intelligence deep in his eyes and a self-deprecating curl of the lips in a small smile. We are a small country but we have some large problems and we have come to ask for your help. When asked for his comments on the demonstrations he smiled politely. He didn't look the kind to be upset by a few flags and some noise. When he turned to go into the building he walked with a pronounced limp.

At five thirty I took a shower, turning it to cold to sharpen my wits. I pulled out the suitcase which Maisie had brought in for me on the first day, and put on the kit it contained: old jeans loose enough not to cramp my movements, a sturdy canvas jacket over an old windcheater, a scarf to protect my neck. Rubber-soled boots, old leather gloves with the tips cut off, a balaclava to go over my head. I even had a pair of industrial goggles on a strap, in case I had to smash my way through a window. In one of the loops of my belt I hooked a small jemmy, tied with a piece of string. The rest of the gear I put on the floor near the door. Then at six I pulled my chair nearer the window and started to watch.

It was a long vigil. I sat in the gathering dark, with the lights off, looking down at the street. A few people moved about, sometimes a car drove past, but mostly it was quiet. Considine's instructions to his men, as he'd explained them to me, were to let people go by, only stepping in if someone did something visibly wrong. Only people entering the building would be searched. Within reach on a small table I had put more provisions, coffee and a drink and some snacks, even a plastic bottle to pee in if need be. No radio. I wanted nothing to distract my attention. It was still some hours before I expected much action, but I needed to be ready well in advance, in case Eric arrived earlier, for whatever reason, perhaps to lie in wait until the time came. I just hoped I hadn't made a monstrous cock-up and it wasn't all going to happen somewhere else.

While waiting I thought of Hao. This was the day she was flying to the States, catching an early flight out of Leeds, she'd told me, connecting at Heathrow with a British Airways flight to New York, then another flight to San Diego via Los Angeles, arriving there in mid afternoon. Over sixteen hours. She should be at London airport by now, about to board her transatlantic flight. She wouldn't be at her brother's house until ten the next morning, Sydney time. I wished I could be with her, and if I could have rung her I would have. But I was glad she wasn't in Sydney just then. She would have been beside herself with anguish. I promised myself I'd ring her the next day, when if all worked out as I hoped I'd have Eric with me. I was also glad she was no longer in Leeds. I trusted her, and yet I couldn't help feeling a tremor of Neanderthal angst at the thought of her in the same city as Robert. When all this was over, I thought, we would need time to build a normal life.