Deadly Diplomacy (35 page)

“That was Harris, wasn’t it?”

Simon nodded. “He’d just heard about Ellen’s murder. He was devastated of course. He told Nigel he’d been with Ellen on the jetty at The Palms
before
she was murdered. He’d gone to confront her about the corruption allegations; and that’s when she told him the whole sorry story. Harris believed Ellen when she said she wasn’t taking bribes, and that she’d been set up. And he
swore
she’d been alive when he left her, and that he’d had nothing to do with her murder.”

Jess felt shocked to the core. “Nigel knew all that, and said nothing. Not even to the High Commissioner?”

Simon nodded. “And he let you go off on what we thought was a routine consular case without any kind of warning. So you see
Nigel
was the catalyst that started off this nightmare. If he hadn’t tipped off Harris and given him a copy of that intelligence report, none of the events of the last few days would have happened.”

Jess flopped back onto the pillow. “Nigel must be devastated now he realises what he’s done.”

“That’s an understatement.” Simon brightened. “Of course, he won’t be resuming his position as Deputy High Commissioner. He’ll be returning to London within the next 24 hours. He’ll face disciplinary action, if not criminal charges.”

Jess closed her eyes, remembering that row with Nigel in the Consul-General’s Office; his clenched fists; that look of hatred. Of course by then, he understood the trail of death and destruction he’d started. And that he’d ruined his own career.

“And John Langhurst?” she asked.

“Dead.”

“And that maniac Roberts?”

Simon hesitated. “They’re still searching the river for his body.”

She gasped. “You don’t think…”

“No, the police are sure he’s dead. It was high tide last night. They think his body must have been swept down the river, and out into Moreton Bay.”

She shivered, remembering those cold eyes that were beyond human reach. Would she ever forget them? Then something came back to her. “You know, Simon, when we were on the yacht, he said he
wasn’t
Roberts.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Who was he, then?”

“I’ve no idea. But he was so adamant he wasn’t Roberts, I somehow
believed
him. Can you mention it to Tom please? It’s worrying me.”

Simon nodded.

“And Chen?” she asked. “Where’s he?”

“Skipped the country.”

“
Impossible!
”

“You’d think! Bloody convenient for everyone, if you ask me.”

This will always remain a secret.
She shivered, remembering Langhurst’s words on the yacht. Had the Australians deliberately let Chen go to protect the deal?

“It was just as we thought,” Simon went on. “The Chinese were perfectly happy with 25 per cent of the joint venture until Langhurst told Chen he could get him a bigger share. Wouldn’t that have that gone down well in Beijing? A notch in Chen’s belt to get him the top political job he wanted.”

“So John Langhurst put Chen up to pitching for a controlling stake of the joint venture?”

Simon nodded. “Knowing it was an impossible ask for the Australian side.

It was a bluff of course. Chen was always going to settle for 45 per cent.”

“And Langhurst would get the credit from the Australian Government for breaking the deadlock and delivering the deal.
Plus
20 million dollars for his own political campaign.” Jess could only believe it because it was true. She sank back into the pillows, finally able to relax. “Susan will be so happy her sister was innocent. She’s the only one who believed in Ellen.” She sighed. “If only Anthony Harris had told the police everything as soon as Ellen was murdered.”

Simon’s mobile rang. “That’ll be Sharon again. She’s been phoning every ten minutes to find out if you’re awake. I’ve been trying to stop her jumping on the first plane north.”

Jess smiled. “Give me the phone. I’ll talk to her.”

“No you won’t,” he said, firmly. “You’ll rest now. And when you’re well enough, you’re coming home with me. I’ll take care of you.”

“But…”

“You’re coming home with me and that’s final!”

She smiled at him. “I’m really happy you came, Simon.”

“Me too.” He leant over and kissed her gently on the lips.

Brisbane, one month later.

Jess felt a tingling in her spine. Pulling her black jacket tight around her, she slipped off her shoes and wriggled her cold toes to get the feeling back in them. She glanced at Susan, sitting pale and distraught next to her. Then she looked over her shoulder at Tom Sangster, who sat alone at the back of the church.

His eyes lit up when he saw her.

She smiled and turned back.

The vicar’s sombre voice echoed around the cavernous nave. The heavy scent of lilies wafted in the air. Lovely, she thought, but too much associated with death for her liking.

She could feel Susan shaking with sobs beside her. A tear slipped down her own cheek in sympathy. She had to focus on the shaft of sunlight beaming through a stained glass window for the rest of the service, to tune out the vicar and the heartache. A picture of Amy sprang into her mind. Her face. Her curly blonde hair. Amy, squealing with joy in the sunshine, as she finally rode her small tricycle alone.

The service ended and everyone began filing out. The church fell silent and peaceful. Jess got up and went over to the candles. She lit three. One for Jack, one for Amy, and one for Ellen Chambers. Then she went back and sat down again next to Susan, who hadn’t moved.

Susan slipped her arm in hers and laid her head on her shoulder. They sat in quiet companionship until a creaking noise made Jess look round.

Tom Sangster got up and walked out of the door.

Patting Susan’s hand, she stood up and followed Tom outside. She saw him break away from the crowd and walk further into the graveyard. She hurried after him, footsteps crunching on dead leaves as she walked along the path in the sunlight. The voices from the congregation were fading now.

She saw him ahead, standing beside a grave. It seemed like an intrusion, but she walked over and stood next to him. “Who’s Lily?” she asked, looking down at the gravestone.

“My first murder case,” he said. “She was just 15 when we found her down by the river. I’ll never get the sight of her out of my head.” He took a deep breath. “I come here from time to time to remind myself why I stay in the Police Service.” He glanced at Jess. “I guess our ghosts are always around us.”

Jess bowed her head.

“I’m sorry about your daughter and husband. The High Commissioner told me what happened to them.”

She nodded. “I never got the chance to properly thank you, Tom. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, Susan and I would have died on that yacht.”

He shuffled his feet.

“I’m still not sure how you found us.”

“A lucky break,” he said. “You see, by then, I was pretty sure John Langhurst was behind all this.”

“How did you know?”

“The lab sent me those blown up photos from Ellen’s camera card. There, bang in the middle of all the crowds in Beijing, were John Langhurst and Chen Xiamen shaking hands. Ellen had caught them red-handed.”

“I see.”

“By then, we had the diary too. I’d found it in the cupboard under the bathroom sink in Susan’s house, just like you said. But we had no idea where Roberts had taken you both.” He glanced at her. “Or if you were still alive.”

Jess nodded.

“We’d checked Roberts’ house of course. But when the neighbours said he was hardly ever there, we started thinking he had another place. Then came the breakthrough. Roberts was known by the working girls in the area. One in particular had a narrow escape. She told us Roberts had taken her to a motel in the Valley a couple of times. While she was there, she saw clothes and other possessions that made her think he was staying there.”

“Ah.”

“I was in the vicinity when that information came through. So I went to the motel. I couldn’t believe my luck when John Langhurst drove up and knocked on a room door. And who should answer, but Roberts himself. I crept over and watched through the window. I heard them arguing. Langhurst was refusing to give Roberts the money he’d promised him until he had the diary.”

“I see.”

“So I waited for one of them to leave, in the hope they would lead me to you. Roberts set off alone first. I went to follow him, as I was certain he’d be the one holding you, if you were still alive.” He glanced at her apologetically again. “But then Langhurst got into his car and followed Roberts down the street. I noticed him hanging back a little, as if he didn’t want Roberts to see him. I wondered what the hell was going on. So, I followed some way behind them both. And that’s how I found you.”

Jess nodded. “Have they found Roberts’s body yet?”

Sangster shook his head. “He’ll be feeding the sharks in the South Pacific Ocean by now.”

She sighed. “He followed me in his grey jeep from the moment I arrived at Brisbane airport.”

Sangster nodded. “He’d been at The Palms looking for the diary. He didn’t find it in Ellen’s room, and he knew we didn’t have it. He must have assumed you knew about the corruption and affair.” He glanced at her. “As did I, by the way, since it was your Government who told
us
.”

“Except I didn’t.”

“No, but Roberts didn’t know that. He knew you were flying up to Brisbane. I guess he thought from the start
you
would lead him to the diary.” He paused “And he was right, wasn’t he?”

She sighed. But there was one loose end still playing on her mind. “So who
was
Roberts, Tom?”

“Ah, well that’s quite a story.” Sangster shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “His real name was James Lynch. He was born on a farm in the Northern Territories. It’s a tragic story really that turned into a nightmare.” He glanced at her. “He killed his drunken, abusive father when he was only 12 years old.”

“
Really
?”

Sangster nodded. “He came home from school one day and found his mother lying dead on the kitchen floor. She’d been beaten to death by his father in a drunken rampage. The boy went into the bedroom where his father was sleeping it off, and stabbed him in the heart with his own hunting knife. The boy had picked a desert rose on his way home from school, his mother’s favourite flower. He put it in her hand and just sat with her body, until neighbours found them a couple of days later.”

Jess stared at him. “
He
was allowed to join the police?”

“It’s not that straightforward.” Sangster took a deep breath. “You see, young James spent the next few years in an orphanage. There, he met Derek Roberts, a boy of the same age. The two of them were inseparable. When they were old enough to leave care, they went off together. Months later, they were both involved in a motorbike accident. One died, the other survived. The death register says James Lynch was killed, but it was Derek who died. You see, after the crash, James adopted Derek’s identity. I guess he realised his future would be easier in Derek’s skin, rather than his own.”

“How the hell did he get away with that?”

Sangster looked at her. “Is it so unbelievable? No one cares about these kids in institutions. The two boys had no family or friends, just each other. They had access to each other’s personal effects and documents. Anyway, the next trace of Derek Roberts was when he enrolled in technical college in Perth, Western Australia. Who would suspect he wasn’t who he said he was?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I can see that. So how did you find out?”

“A lady in the orphanage where the two boys grew up saw the news bulletin and a photo of Roberts. She rang up and told us we’d got it wrong, and that the killer was James Lynch.”

Jess couldn’t help but feel sad for that little boy, but not for the lethal killer he’d turned into.

There was a pause.

“Tom.”

He turned to her.

“I feel you deserve a full explanation from our side too. But please keep it to yourself.”

His eyes lit up. “Are you going to tell me Ellen Chambers was working for MI6 all along?”

Jess lowered her voice even though they were alone in the open air. “I doubt we’ll ever know that for sure. But Ellen did know their Station Manager in Beijing. They’d been close friends since studying Mandarin together at university. They often met up for dinner in Beijing, when Ellen was visiting. She was a mine of information with her background and business links.” Jess paused. “He of course knew all about the rumours that someone inside Western Energy was working for Chen Xiamen and taking bribes; and that Ellen had been identified as the culprit. Of course, he didn’t believe a word of it; and told her everything, including about the offshore bank accounts.”

“So
he
tipped Ellen off that she was being set up;
not
Harris.”

“
Exactly!
”

Sangster let that information sink in. “Was her relationship with Langhurst genuinely affectionate?” he asked. “Or was she cosying up to him for intelligence reasons?”

Jess shrugged. “We’re never going to know that either, Tom. Anyway, Ellen set about finding out who
was
responsible. Imagine her shock when it turned out to be John Langhurst himself, and that he’d set her up to take the blame.”

“So
that’s
how it unfolded?”

Jess nodded. “Ellen rang Langhurst and gave him an ultimatum. He had 48 hours to go to the police and confess everything, or she’d tell them herself. Trying to stall her, he persuaded her to meet him at The Palms on Sunday night to talk. What a terrible twist of fate that turned out to be.”

Sangster nodded and they fell silent again.

“Tom.” She looked at him. “I can’t stop thinking about the way I just watched Roberts drown in front of my eyes, without a flicker of regret.”

“He
had
been trying to kill you.”

“
And
John Langhurst. I deliberately tried to push him over the side to drown him, before you shot him. All I could think about was what he’d done to Ellen, to all of them.”