Deadly Diplomacy (11 page)

Reacting to her mood, he said nothing. He looked all around, breathing in the atmosphere. But when he turned back, the Consul was studying him, which made him feel uncomfortable. “Who might have done something like this?” she asked.

“Difficult to say at the moment.”

“What’s your gut instinct?”

He wasn’t used to being asked that. “Well,” he hesitated, “we haven’t found a handbag or mobile, so robbery could have been a motive. But she still had her expensive watch on.”

“A sex attack, perhaps?”

“No immediate sign of that. But we’ll find out for sure at the autopsy.”

She nodded. “Can I have a copy of the autopsy report when it’s ready?”

She was back to her calm, assured self now. A closed book. “Yes,” he replied.

“So, you said the attack was frenzied, Inspector. If we could rule out robbery and sexual assault, what else could we be looking at?”

He didn’t want to commit himself. “It’s difficult to say at the moment.”

But she wasn’t satisfied with that. “You said the attack was frenzied. Doesn’t that suggest the killer was in a rage?”

“Or high on drugs or alcohol.”

“Mm.” She didn’t look convinced. “Could Ellen Chambers have
known
her killer, do you think?”

“Maybe she had an
appointment
with him?” He was still furious about that diary.

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her. “There were no appointments in her diary for Sunday night, if that’s what you’re getting at.” The Consul settled her cool gaze on him. “There was a lunch on Sunday for the Conference delegates who arrived in Brisbane early. It was at the Riverbank Hotel. But nothing for Sunday night.”

Of course she’d have read the diary; he should have thought of that before. “Did you see anything else interesting?”

“Well,” she paused. “Ellen Chambers was an organised woman, with neat, legible handwriting.”

He waited. The Consul seemed to be focusing on a spot close to his right shoulder as she spoke, as if she were seeing the pages of the diary in front of her.

“And she’d recorded all her appointments so carefully, with the full name and contact details of all her interlocutors and the venue. Except… well, I noticed the initials TH entered on various dates.” She frowned. “Just those initials, with no name or contact details. Those appointments only seemed to take place whenever she was in Brisbane.”

He noticed the Consul bite her lip. Was she was holding something back? Again he waited.

“I was wondering if they were the initials of a boyfriend or lover,” she went on. “If Ellen had wanted to keep his identity and their meetings secret, she wouldn’t have included any other details, would she?”

Sangster nodded. He had to hand it to Jessica Turner, she was observant and precise. “Did you spot anything else in the diary?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if it’s of any relevance.” She hesitated. “On the back page, there were six lines of words and numbers all jumbled up. They looked like codes… or computer passwords. Something like that. But I’m afraid I can’t remember them.” She looked up. “Do you think Ellen Chambers’ murder could be linked to her job at Western Energy? Only the LNG contract
is
high profile and lucrative.”

“It’s possible.” He wondered whether to ask her about that British intelligence report. She
had
to know about it, and those corruption allegations
were
his only line of enquiry at the moment. Tired of beating around the bush, he said: “Are you asking me if I think her murder is connected to those corruption allegations?”

She nodded, but volunteered nothing.

Now, he was annoyed he’d brought it up. “I’m waiting to be briefed about that. Two Canberra Federal Agents are on their way as we speak.” He knew he sounded blunt, but he didn’t like being played. “I’m sure you already know all about
that
.”

Her eyes narrowed; it was the first time he’d seen a flash of steel in them. But before she could say anything, his mobile rang.

“Tom?” The DC’s voice sounded breathless. “Get back here, quickly. There’s been another murder… Anthony Harris, the Federal Minister… he’s been shot.”

“
Shot?
” For a minute, Sangster couldn’t quite take in what he’d heard.

“Yes. We found him dead in his ministerial car outside Police HQ. He was on his way to see me.”

“
Jesus!
” He looked at the British Consul, who stood pale-faced, watching him.

“Is it Susan Chambers?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “I’m on my way,” he said into his mobile and hung up.

“What’s happened?” the Consul asked, urgently.

“It’s Anthony Harris. He’s been shot dead in Brisbane.”

“
Oh my God!
” She clasped her hand to her throat. “I only saw him a few hours ago at the airport. What happened?”

“That’s all I know,” he said.

There was a pause while they both took in the news.

“Is his murder connected to Ellen Chambers?” she asked, quietly.

“I really don’t know. Look I’m sorry, but I
must
go.”

“Of course.”

He hesitated. “Will you ring me immediately if you hear from Susan?”

“Yes. And will you ring me when you know more about the Minister’s murder?”

He nodded and sprinted up the path towards the hotel, his mind racing in every direction. Although he was in a hurry, at the top of the path, he stopped. For some reason, he felt uneasy about leaving the British Consul at the crime scene alone after that shocking news. But when he turned round, she was standing with her back to him, staring out to sea. She looked a solitary figure, lost in her own thoughts. He thought back to her cool gaze and guarded eyes. There was something unsettling about Jessica Turner that he couldn’t work out. And that made her interesting.

“I assure you we’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Sangster hung up and sat gripping his mobile.

“Is that the DC stressin’ out?”

“Can you blame him?”

“I still can’t believe it.” Dalton’s incredulous voice hung in the air as he weaved in and out of the traffic.

Sangster sat tense next to him in the passenger seat, staring at the road. “Who would have the balls to shoot a Federal Minister in the head, in his car, in broad daylight, and right outside Police HQ? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Someone who wanted to stop him talking to us,” Dalton replied.

“Or someone who wanted to kill under our noses.” Sangster shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Where the hell was his security team?” Dalton railed. “Where was his driver?”

“Harris stood them down, and said he wanted to drive himself. Apparently, he phoned the DC and asked to call at 1pm on a private matter.”

Dalton glanced over. “What was that all about?”

“The DC doesn’t know. When Harris didn’t turn up, he phoned his office. No one there even knew about the appointment. Then the DC spotted a ministerial car parked outside in the street from his office window. His secretary went out, and found Harris dead inside.”

Dalton braked hard as a car pulled out in front of him.

Sangster jolted forward. When he sat back, he noticed a familiar jagged light in the corner of his right eye. He reached into his pocket for his migraine medication, then remembered he’d left it on the hall table at home.

“Someone must have
witnessed
the shooting.” Dalton was getting more and more worked up. “You can’t shoot a Minister in broad daylight without
someone
seeing?”

“Apparently you can, because no one’s come forward… yet.”

“But there’s CCTV right outside.”

“They’re checking it now.”

“Didn’t anyone see his body in the car, for Chrissakes?”

“Those official cars have heavily tinted windows. But this is where it gets weird, Dave.” Sangster glanced over. “The DC’s just said it looks like Harris was
killed
by a single bullet to the back of the head. Then, he was
stabbed
through the heart.”

Dalton’s jaw dropped. “Someone was
really
pissed off with him.”

“I’m no expert, Dave, but I always thought post-mortem stab wounds were sexual in nature.”

“Is that what this is all about? Sex? Because
two
high profile murders in one day can’t be a coincidence.”

Sangster nodded. “Except the murders are so different. The Chambers’ woman was attacked in the dark and drowned with bare hands; whereas Harris was shot in broad daylight, and stabbed through the heart.”

Dalton’s mobile rang. He answered while still expertly driving.

It amazed Sangster how someone as methodical and slow as Dalton could have such sharp reflexes behind the wheel.

Dalton looked over again. “No sign of Susan Chambers, Boss. The guys have been to her house, and to the
Brisbane Echo
. What do you want them to do now?”

Sangster rubbed his eyes, but that jagged light was still there. He was worried about Susan Chambers. He felt responsible for her running off, and he needed that diary. “I want someone to stay outside her house, in case she returns. Everyone else should get back to the station. And under no circumstances should anyone issue a general bulletin to pick her up. She’s scared enough of us as it is. I don’t want the whole Force chasing her.” He looked over at Dalton. “And I don’t want
anyone
to know she has that diary. Is that clear?”

Dalton understood. “You think she’s in danger while she’s got it?”

Sangster pursed his lips. “Until we know exactly what we’re dealing with, I’m going to put a small team together to look for her discreetly.”

When Dalton braked again, this time to stop at a red light, Sangster’s notepad flew onto the floor. He picked it up and flicked to his sketch of Ellen Chambers lying dead on the sand. Despite the disfiguration, he reckoned she’d been a beautiful woman, and successful. But the attack had been so angry, as if someone hadn’t just wanted to punish her, they’d wanted to destroy her. What had she done to spark that rage? He turned to another sketch. “What do you make of the British Consul, Dave?” he asked, as he studied the image of her he’d created on the page.

Dalton shrugged. “Doesn’t look much like a Consul, does she?”

“You never know who’s who in those embassies. They give themselves titles no one understands, and get up to all sorts under cover.”

“She seemed professional enough. A typically reserved Pom, if you ask me.” Dalton paused. “Did you notice she’s got the same profile as Ellen Chambers? Same build, height and colouring.”

Sangster nodded. Except for different coloured eyes, he thought. The victim’s were blue, the Consul’s are brown. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, making him blink. Now, with his eyes closed, he could see that jagged line working its way across both eyes. He waited for the clap of thunder to follow. But it never came; nor did the rain. “Get the guys to pick up Danny Burton, Dave, and bring him down to the station for interview.”

“What, now?”

“Yes. Danny says he went home after that spat in the bar with Ellen Chambers. But I don’t think he’s the type of guy to give up on a woman so easily.”

“You think he might have done it?”

Sangster rubbed his eyes again and looked up at the black rain cloud hanging over the city skyscrapers, which only added to his dark mood. “I don’t know yet. But I’ve got a feeling he knows more than he’s letting on.”

*

Bald head pink with stress, the DC paced around his office, while Sangster stood by the window. The DC had a huge desk, but he never sat at it. It was more of a status symbol than a practical piece of furniture; and Sangster couldn’t see the point of that. But he did understand the DC’s anxiety. He was coming under intense scrutiny from Canberra and the media. And the strain was showing. But if anyone could handle the pressure, it was him. The DC might have worked his way up from the bottom, just like Sangster, but he was a shrewd operator. He was good at schmoozing and keeping senior officials and politicians sweet, but he wasn’t a risk taker or in the least bit independent-minded. And for that, Sangster didn’t admire him much.

Nor did Sangster care much for those two Federal agents. They’d been so rattled by the Anthony Harris murder, they’d delayed their briefing for another hour while they got more advice from Canberra. Then, when they did start talking, their briefing boiled down to one simple point: Ellen Chambers was suspected of taking a couple of million dollars in bribes from the Chinese to help get them a more favourable deal in the LNG negotiations. Sangster was unimpressed. Why all the cloak and dagger stuff? Why didn’t Canberra just say from the start that Ellen Chambers was double-crossing Western Energy by working for the Chinese?

“What I don’t understand, Tom, is why a woman in
her
position would take bribes from the Chinese? She was Western Energy’s Group Finance Director for God’s sake, and probably earning a fortune.
Stupid woman!
”

“Well, what I don’t understand is why Canberra didn’t just say from the start she was taking bribes from the Chinese.” Sangster’s eyes narrowed. “And why won’t they let us read a copy of that British intelligence report?”

“Too sensitive, they say.”

“So we just accept what we’re told?”

The DC stopped pacing. “What are you getting at?”

Sangster wasn’t sure himself. “It feels all wrong, that’s all.” He paused. “I want to talk to Chen Xiamen, and the rest of the Chinese.”

“You heard what Canberra said, Tom. We can’t interview any of them until the PM’s adviser and the Chinese Ambassador get here from Canberra, tomorrow morning.”

“
Anything
could happen before then. We’ve already had
two
murders.”

“We need to go along with them on this, Tom.” The DC gave him a pointed look. “The PM’s office have made it crystal clear to me that we can’t go blundering in and accuse the Chinese of bribing Ellen Chambers.”

“What about murdering her?”

“That’s impossible. The Chinese were all present at an official function in Canberra Parliament last night. There’s no way any of them could have got a flight up to Brisbane and killed her.”