Cut to the Chase (9 page)

He resolved not to wander far as he wanted to keep the hotel within easy running distance. He made his way to a parapet that overlooked the street below and rested his elbows upon it. The traffic poured past in an endless mass, as did the pedestrians on the two pavements. That was one feature about Jakarta; wherever you looked there were people – people – people.

‘Trying the afternoon air?' Wallace nearly jumped out of his skin and his heart threatened to burst out of his ribs. He swung round and found Kalim regarding him with his usual smile, he was carrying a camera slung over his shoulder and he looked as though he had just taken a snapshot of Wallace.

‘Ye-es!' Wallace spluttered.

‘I hope it comes out,' Kalim said, eyeing the position of the sun. ‘I must have been nearly facing the sun when I took it…never mind…why don't you stand over there?'

In view of recent events Wallace was reluctant to have his photograph taken at all, but Kalim was already taking up his position and it was not easy to argue or find a reason why not. Kalim clicked the camera twice and smiled.

‘I'll have that developed before you leave,' he said. ‘Do you fancy a walk?'

‘Not just at the moment. It's…er…too hot.'

‘I wouldn't argue with that. Have you seen the new shopping centre over the street yet?'

Wallace wasn't clear how as his instinctive inclination was to head back for the hotel, but he found himself crossing the street with Kalim and entering the new shopping complex. Kalim entered a photography shop while Wallace waited outside and put his film in to be developed. It was one of those instant development shops, or at least nearly so, the sign outside in English said development within two hours. He came out inserting another film into his camera.

‘One these days I must invest in a digital camera,' Kalim remarked and laughed. ‘It's so much easier. Would you care for a coffee?'

‘Well . . I…!'

‘There's a small coffee shop along here, shall we go?' And such was his pleasant manner that Wallace followed him without demur. He looked carefully around but he could see nobody who looked like an undercover policeman.

Wallace sat in his room and considered what he should wear for dinner. He had had a pleasant afternoon with Julius Kalim, eventually he had forgotten his fears and begun to wonder whether Major Lincoln was right after all that after the flash drive had been handed over nobody would be interested any longer. They had had a coffee and then wandered through the shopping centre where Wallace purchased a small camera that had been a bargain. Kalim had done all the haggling and had beaten the shop-keeper down to less than 50% of the original asking price.

‘How did you do it?' Wallace asked in wonderment.

‘Ah…! Long practice,' Kalim smiled. ‘When you have been on the other side of the fence…or the haggle…you can detect a point at which the items will be sold or at least where the price is still acceptable. They always start off far too high. Even the most gullible tourist knows that, the secret is being aware of how far you can go. It's all in the way the hands are moved, in the words and the facial expressions. After a while you can sense it. In this particular case, had we gone any lower he would have been making next to nothing, as it is he made a not unreasonable profit and you paid the right price.'

‘He didn't look too happy.'

‘Ah, that is all part of the sales technique. He knows you could be back tomorrow, and if he looks displeased, or upset and disappointed today, you may possibly feel under an obligation to him tomorrow for obtaining what could be termed today's bargain. You could probably feel guilt about his starving children that his facial expression and body language conveys to you and be a softer target should your paths cross tomorrow.'

That made sense, Wallace had no doubt that the lines of any preliminary skirmish would be different tomorrow. He resolved to avoid that particular shop on the way back to the hotel.

They had arranged to meet for dinner at the hotel, Wallace was determined – Kalim or no Kalim – that he would not stir from the security of the building after sunset, nor would he leave it subsequently until it was time to leave for the flight at midday the next day. Wallace had already telephoned Major Lincoln and told him that he wanted an embassy car to take him to the airport the next day, he was not going to travel by cab – maybe he had been guilty of watching too many spy thrillers on television, but he still feared the possibility of being kidnapped. Those two thugs had been a trifle too tenacious for his liking. There had been a short, sharp argument, but Lincoln had finally grudgingly agreed to send one of his minions.

Kalim rose to his feet as Wallace entered the dining room and the waiter ushered him to the table.

‘Would you join me in an aperitif?' he asked, and waved to the waiter before Wallace had a chance to reply. He seemed to be studying Wallace closely as they sipped their drinks.

‘You are English, are you not?' Kalim enquired.

‘No, Australian,' Wallace answered.

‘My apologies, I thought I detected a trace of an English accent, southern counties to be precise.'

Wallace told him that he was right, after some hesitation. He had been born near London and his parents had left England when Wallace was very young. Accents are funny things. Wallace had picked up a broad Australian accent while at school, mainly due to peer pressure, which had slowly tempered over the years through to early teens, when it had slowly disappeared. His parents spoke what could be best described as an upper class English accent, with a trace of the southern inflexion peculiar to the Home Counties. As the years had passed during secondary school years this accent had gradually re-asserted itself and become more and more part of Wallace until there had been many times he was mistaken for a recent English immigrant.

That he was still a “Pom” and would be one for evermore was made inevitable during school and early commercial years. Whenever England made an Ashes tour he was subjected to incessant leg pulling, particularly when England lost a wicket, notwithstanding that his instinct was to support Australia. He still had a British passport, like many who were born in the United Kingdom, mainly because if he travelled to London either for work or to see relatives, he didn't want to have to go through as an alien and join a long queue. As a British subject a British or European Union passport enabled one to walk straight through Customs. Wallace also had an Australian passport, which he was using on this trip.

Kalim was an entertaining companion, he laughed heartily when Wallace told him of the joke that had misfired at Singapore. He discovered that Kalim was a Muslim, with a name like Kalim that didn't cause a surprise, and that he had been born on an island off Sumatra. Wallace told him something of his own background and hopes.

‘A circuit speaker,' Kalim pursed his lips. ‘Is there enough scope in that to keep going?'

‘Not entirely,' Wallace shook his head. ‘Enough to keep me and a few other circuit speakers going, but it is nothing like it is in the USA Population is the key there, there are many large cities in the USA that support many large companies, but in Australia we only have about five large population centres. In addition, the US being what it is, they like motivational speakers.'

‘You are going to the United States in the near future?'

‘No, more likely England, I am going there in a few months,' Wallace replied. ‘There aren't enough speaking engagements there to keep the wolf from the door…' he hesitated wondering if Kalim knew the connotations of that figure of speech, but Kalim nodded understandingly ‘…however I have enough contacts in insurance from my time in the industry in Australia. I've never had problems obtaining temporary work – companies always have room for people to process claims, especially motor claims and water damage claims if there is a sudden storm that causes widespread damage.'

‘What does your wife think of this – are you married?'

‘No, not any longer, we have just had the divorce process I'm afraid.'

‘Oh I'm sorry to hear that. What happened…Oh I'm sorry, it's none of my business.'

‘That's all right, there's no secret about it. Elsie and I found we didn't get on, and the parting was somewhat unpleasant.'

‘You are divorced now?'

‘Just,' Wallace replied. ‘The process was finalised a few weeks back, after we'd sorted out the financial side of it.'

‘So you are living separately?'

‘Oh for sure,' Wallace said. ‘She still lives in our unit in a bay side suburb, I moved out.'

‘Ah, these things happen,' Kalim shook his head sadly. ‘But maybe it is for the best, when all breaks down.'

He poured some wine into Wallace's glass.

‘What is the procedure in Western societies when divorces take place?' Kalim asked as he put the bottle down. ‘This is something that is rare in our society. Does the wife retain the husband's name or revert to her former name?'

‘It varies,' Wallace answered. ‘But Elsie still uses her married name, calls herself Elsie Wallace.'

‘Interesting,' Kalim said. ‘Tell me, when are you going to England?'

‘In a few months,' Wallace replied.

‘Oh yes. What part?'

‘Mainly London and the south east counties, I still have friends and relatives.'

‘You have many relatives there?'

‘No, not many, an uncle and cousin in Surrey and a good friend in the Midlands,' Wallace said. ‘I usually stay with them when I am there.'

‘You have nothing anywhere else?'

‘Maybe Manchester, insurance industry contacts, but nowhere else.'

That wasn't entirely true, but suddenly Wallace began to feel uneasy about telling Kalim too much, after all, he hardly knew the man and after recent experiences perhaps it was unwise to say too much. Maybe he had said too much already.

‘Interesting, I may be in England myself some time this year, mainly London, you say? Did you say the Midlands?'

‘I'd say so, yes,' Wallace had already said as much so he wasn't giving any more away.

They sat and talked for hours, it was nearly ten o'clock when they moved into the bar and sat at another table. Wallace was beginning to feel light headed when Kalim looked at his watch, checked it with the clock over the bar and then announced that he would have to go as he had to be up early in the morning.

They slowly made their way to the lifts and went up to their floor. They solemnly shook hands in the corridor, tentatively agreed to see each other in the dining room for breakfast and then parted.

Wallace entered his room cautiously, flinging the door open and switching on the light and staying on the threshold, he even peered through the crack in the door in case anyone was lurking behind it. He half expected to see brawny Indonesian secret policemen lurking behind every item of furniture but the room was empty and, so far as he could see, nobody had been in the room.

He had previously photographed all the items on the dressing table top with the digital camera he had just purchased but nothing appeared to have been moved. Maybe Lincoln was right, once the computer drive had been delivered nobody was interested any more. Nevertheless, he made sure that the door was locked and the chain was secured.

They did meet at breakfast, Wallace was down first. He thought he would like to see Kalim before he left, he was apparently heading for Bandung by an early flight and was returning that evening…by which time Wallace hoped to have landed in Australia.

Kalim was talking to someone in the lobby before he came in and saw Wallace sitting at the table.

‘That was one of my colleagues,' he explained. He eyed Wallace keenly as he sat down and asked if he had a hangover. Wallace said he had and he grinned broadly. They had their breakfast and then finally said their farewells.

‘I may possibly be in Europe, and London, in about six months,' Kalim said. ‘I'll look you up maybe, what hotel do you normally use?'

Wallace didn't have a normal hotel as it happened, but he named one that Clive Passay said that he frequently stayed in. Wallace didn't know where it was, nor did he want to. He felt he had said too much already and he wasn't going to give away any possible hotels where he may stay.

‘Very well – au revoir,' Kalim said as he picked up his brief case.

‘You have an early flight?'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘I think I have enough time. Goodbye, Mr Wallace.'

Wallace watched him enter the cab outside and then returned to go to his room. Life would be dull without Kalim for the next few hours, but Wallace would be very relieved when he was on the midday flight to Sydney.

Wallace picked up the telephone, it was late morning.

‘Your car for the airport has arrived, Mr Wallace,' said a voice.

Wallace arrived in the foyer; it was Alex Miller the Commercial Attaché from the embassy. Miller was sitting in one of the seats idly scanning one of the English language newspapers that lay about. He rose to his feet as Wallace arrived.