Cut to the Chase (16 page)

‘Yes,' Wallace replied. ‘But I have to depart for a few minutes – call of nature, you understand?'

He nodded and Wallace excused himself and went to the wash room where he swilled the backs of his hands and wrists under the cold tap. He had heard years ago it was a useful method of counteracting the effects of inebriation, maybe it was bullshit but it did make him feel better. Then the queasiness hit again, and he made a dash for one of the cubicles, thankfully there was nobody else in the toilets. The urge to vomit was irresistible, he had time to remove his jacket and hang it on the door before dropping to his knees with his head down the pan.

Wallace's heart sank when he returned to the table and found another full glass of wine awaiting him. The only consolation was that after the unfortunate episode in the toilets he did feel a little better. Kalim was standing near to the bar in animated conversation with the waiter, who looked up at Wallace and then drifted away as Wallace returned to the table. He had the feeling that they were both looking a little puzzled about something, maybe the potted plant had died. His unfinished main course was still on the table, Kalim was still at the bar conversing with the waiter when Wallace became aware that the waitress was at his elbow.

‘Sir?' she said, looking at his plate. ‘You are finished?'

‘Yes,' Wallace replied, and moved it in her direction. ‘You can take it. Sorry, bit too much for me I'm afraid.'

She smiled sympathetically and removed the plate, stacking it with about three others she was already carrying, which effectively masked Wallace's as Kalim returned. The waitress reappeared a few moments later with the sweets menu. A long necked glass of ice cream was ordered for Wallace; he didn't really want it but Kalim ordered two, one for himself and one for Wallace. He felt it would have been churlish to refuse, though he did fear the consequences if he tried to push any more food down after his recent indisposition. He also had some coffee, which was subsequently brought by the waiter. He didn't like the coffee either, it had an acrid taste, probably some Indonesian brand so he left it near his elbow where it cooled off. The taste was vaguely familiar; it had a similar tang to the wine.

‘Drink up, Harry,' said Kalim cordially, and looked at the clock over the bar. ‘I was going to suggest a night cap at my apartment – it isn't far away and we shall be thrown out of here very soon.'

He laughed. Wallace dutifully followed suit and it sounded like a death rattle.

‘Hmmm!' Wallace said for want of something else to say. The thought of more liquor being pushed in his direction did not appeal; he had had enough trouble already diverting the quantities that had come in his direction so far. He was also feeling more and more uneasy. Not only was he recalling what Ravindran had said, but was also thinking back to that nightmare last day in Jakarta when he had been heading for the airport in the embassy vehicle with Alex Miller. He had definitely seen Kalim in the street entering a police station after an animated conversation with uniformed police when, according to what he had told Wallace when he departed, he should have been on an outgoing flight.

Wallace looked at Kalim as Wallace raised his wine to his lips and tilted it, keeping his lips tightly shut. He lowered the glass and didn't replace it on the table but sat nursing it. Kalim looked at Wallace and smiled but he seemed to be smiling only with his mouth, somehow his eyes belied the expression, his eyes were darting to the left and the right. For once he didn't look at ease. He followed the waiter with his glance as the latter circled the table on his way to the trolley from which he dispensed the drinks.

‘It is time we went, I'll settle the account.'

He turned round and signalled to the waiter, who acknowledged. That enabled Wallace to get rid of another Scotch that had appeared from somewhere. This left only the coffee and the wine. He sipped the latter with caution, and when Kalim turned to look for the waiter again Wallace saw that the waitress, who was clearing up the tables, was heading in his direction. So he tipped his wine into the glass containing the ice cream, which he had hardly touched.

The waitress came by and he indicated what she could take, she removed both items from the table before Kalim, who was still searching for the waiter, would have been able to see what had been done. As Kalim turned again to signal to the waiter, Wallace handed his still full coffee cup to the waitress who took it without demur, balanced everything skilfully and made her way towards the kitchen.

Wallace was feeling decidedly muzzy, and his legs felt queer. Despite his skill at disposal and his performance in the toilets he had still imbibed a small amount, but he felt vastly better than had he drunk the lot. Had he done so he would hardly have been able to walk, yet strangely Kalim, who appeared to have liberally hit the bottle, seemed to be unaffected.

The bill eventually arrived and Kalim perused it carefully, his manner indicated that he thought something was wrong and he signalled to the waiter once more.

‘There is one bottle too many,' he said coldly, and pointed to the bill. ‘Also, Mr Wallace did not have an entrée.'

The waiter looked embarrassed, and took the account away. Kalim looked at Wallace. ‘I always check,' he said. ‘There is always something there that should not be there. Am I unduly suspicious?'

Wallace smiled and shook his head, much of his unease dissipated. He had much sympathy with that sentiment. He could remember an office party at the Saturn Insurance Office where separate tables had been charged for the liquor they consumed, the table where Wallace had sat had come to over $190 at the end of the night. Considering there had only been six occupants of the table, and two were non drinkers, this was an incredible figure. It had been challenged by the chief clerk and the bill had been sulkily amended to $50.

‘They must live,' Wallace commented, more for conversations sake.

‘Not off me!' snapped Kalim. ‘I will go and check with him again.'

So saying he rose to his feet and disappeared in the direction of the bar. The waiter reappeared from a doorway by the bar, he and Kalim had an animated conversation but although the waiter was still holding the bill the conversation didn't seem to be about that. The waitress appeared at Wallace's elbow and began to clear the table, removing the salt and pepper, and giving him a flashing smile. As she moved off Wallace caught sight of Kalim who was standing near to the bar, he was on his mobile telephone, he was gesturing as he spoke and he didn't looked pleased.

A cab had drawn up outside, Wallace was sufficiently cognisant to observe that there was an ambulance parked by the side of the street about ten yards away as they drove off. The cab travelled for about three streets before pulling up before a large apartment block, probably erected in the 1960s. There was an imposing entrance and the doorman saluted gravely as they entered. They entered the lift and it took off at a fast rate. Kalim seemed deep in thought as it reached the fifth floor and looked carefully up and down the corridor as they exited.

‘Come!' he said. ‘Welcome to a little part of Indonesia.'

That was not a tactful remark, Wallace's stomach nearly turned over at the thought. Kalim marched ahead and unlocked a door, bidding Wallace to enter. The room itself was a surprise, he had been expecting East Indian/Indonesian furnishings and decor, but as he looked around it there was even a footy print on one of the walls, and a couple of landscapes that were unmistakeably Australian, the tree trunks were quite striking gum trees.

‘Welcome, I hope you approve of the decor.'

‘Er, thank you,' Wallace was not sure but unease had returned. It was almost as though he had walked into the apartment of an ex-pat Australian. Though they had talked much of Australia, Australian Rules football had never been mentioned. There was also a bottle of Australian brandy on the table with some glasses.

‘A drink? Here let us have a brandy.'

His enthusiasm was infectious, Wallace nodded and sat down. He looked at the clock, it was approaching midnight and Wallace had survived the night, apart from the excess of drink and the queasy feeling that was beginning to return. He definitely felt strange and was anxious to return to his own hotel room and turn in. He intended to make an early start in the morning, and also intended to ring McKay and his espionage friends and tell them to go to hell.

Kalim turned his back to Wallace as he poured the drinks and then excused himself. Clearly he had gone to the toilet as Wallace heard water hitting water. There was a small vase of flowers on the window sill so Wallace poured most of the brandy into that, leaving only a smidgin in the bottom of the glass. He didn't much care for Australian brandy anyway.

He was back in his seat when Kalim returned; he raised his glass and said ‘Cheers!'

‘Cheers, all the best,' Wallace acknowledged and downed what was left of the brandy, his hand was gripping around the glass so Kalim couldn't have seen how little there was in it. It tasted odd as it landed on his tongue; it had a bitter taste similar to that in the coffee earlier. That had left an unpleasant aftertaste. Wallace took out his handkerchief and pretended to wipe his nose, but ran his tongue over the cloth to remove virtually all of that which he had just imbibed. He reflected that it was lucky he had despatched the vast majority of it into the vase and wondered how the flowers were faring.

‘Well, what are your plans now?' Kalim asked him.

‘I'm off to the States in about ten days,' Wallace replied, becoming aware that the room felt a little unsteady. ‘In the meantime I may visit some relatives.'

‘And where are they?'

His tone sounded a little peremptory, Wallace looked at him and he was not smiling. Further, he was growing hazy and far away. Wallace pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, was he going to faint? Maybe he had drunk too much, certainly he felt queer.

Kalim was still talking and his voice was becoming fainter and fainter, and so was Wallace. He meshed his fingers together and clenched them but they seemed to be at the ends of arms that had suddenly become three miles in length. He felt a spinning and a roaring and then darkness closed in.

W
allace came round slowly, having several false starts. He appeared to be lying on the floor, and the room was spinning in several directions. It was in semi-darkness, and there were perpendicular and horizontal lines of light about three feet away. He could not hear any movement.

He was aware of two areas of discomfort. Firstly he was hot, very hot. Perspiration was saturating him from head to toe. He took off his jacket and left it on the floor. Further, his bladder was full, painfully so. He arose slowly, feeling very unsteady. As his eyes became accustomed to the light, or lack of it, he could see through a half open door to the right, lit up slightly by a window beyond it where there were stars twinkling.

He tried to walk in that direction, but his legs felt as if they were made of rubber and he fell back onto the floor again. As he crawled towards it he could dimly make out a wash hand basin, and then a toilet. He slid over onto his hands and knees and made his way over.

After reaching the bathroom, he levered himself to his feet, he was clinging onto the wash hand basin for support, so decided to use it illicitly. He unzipped his fly and urinated into the basin, turning on the cold tap to wash it down. Never had he experienced such bliss as he let it all go. He ran the water for a few minutes to clear it and then was suddenly assailed by nausea. He stumbled over to the toilet, luckily the seat was up and he thrust his head into the bowl and promptly threw up. Before this night it had been years since Wallace had vomited, now twice within a few hours! Everything came back; he was surprised there was anything left after the previous episode at the restaurant, and the smell and taste was vile, so much so that it brought about a fresh bout of retching and heaving.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, found the button and flushed the toilet. It refilled and he suddenly had another urge to vomit and brought up some more, and he flushed it again. He fumbled along the wall, found a light switch and turned it on and was able to see into the room he had left. It was a bedroom and Wallace was in the en suite. He found some Listerine in the bathroom cabinet and gargled with it. His mouth tasted strange, it was a vile taste, yet it was familiar, the mouth wash certainly dispelled some of it. He remembered now, the drinks at the restaurant had tasted like that, as had the brandy in the apartment. He opened the window to dispel the unpleasant smell, and peered out. He could see out dimly, it was several floors up, he remembered now that they had travelled up about five floors to Kalim's apartment in the lift.

Kalim? What the hell had happened? Why was he here, why had he been dumped onto the floor in such an unceremonious manner? Clearly all was not well, something queer was going on and he remembered the unease he had experienced beforehand.

He decided to explore and walked back into the bedroom. He found he was shivering uncontrollably after his bouts of sickness, so he picked up his jacket, put it on again and opened the door. Then he heard noises, he could hear footsteps, presumably in the corridor outside the apartment and then heard a key in the door and the main door opened. Wallace had his hand on the handle of the sitting room door and was about to enter to say hallo to Kalim when he heard voices.

‘Put him down here, no over there.'

Wallace had opened the door sufficiently to be able to peer through a narrow crack, he could see Kalim and two other men; with a sense of shock Wallace recognised all three. One of them was one of the two men who had been chasing him in Jakarta while the other was the moustachioed waiter from the restaurant. They were carrying another man, a man who was either unconscious or dead. They dumped him on the floor.

‘Sit him up in the chair,' the waiter commanded, he seemed to be in charge of affairs.