Half Moon Bay (25 page)

Ellie found the note propped up on the kitchen bench against a carton of eggs when she wandered in the next morning, refreshed from a good night’s sleep:
Help yourself. I’ll be home late afternoon. Ring if you need me. Nick.
It seemed ICAC worked even on the weekends. His writing was strong and straight.

She opened the fridge door.
Hmm, nice choice of yoghurt
, she thought. She’d never met a man with a fridge actually containing edible food before. Except for her father.

She took her bowl of fruit and yoghurt out to the courtyard and tickled Shadow’s tummy with her foot as she ate.

It had taken some time to fall asleep last night. Nick’s reaction to her questions about his connection with her dad intrigued her. Tom had served in the military in Vietnam, been conscripted like so many other young Australian men. Whatever he’d witnessed he’d left behind in the war-ravaged country. He’d never spoken of it to his girls. Maybe to his wife before she died, but not to his daughters. Perhaps that’s why he accepted their careers so easily. He believed that the rest of the world needed to see the truth about war. Vietnam had made him a passionate pacifist. Hard to imagine him and Nicholas forging a friendship.

There’d been an awkward moment at the end of the movie when neither one of them looked like they wanted the evening to end. Nick had finally stood up, nodded a little formally and wished her good night. Yawning, she’d headed to her own room.

Today she needed to track down Alex. Was it possible he’d had prior information about the kidnapping of Sarah and Mikey and hadn’t passed it on? Did he know O’Sullivan’s boys were planning to threaten her? She shook her head in denial at the possibility. If he did, then what? Report him to the police? Never speak to him again? The thought was almost too much to bear.

The reality was that he had warned her, albeit obliquely, and in her arrogance she’d ignored that warning. Once she’d been attacked, she’d figured the threat had passed.

Her phone vibrated with an incoming message. She didn’t recognise the number but the message was signed from Alex:
Sorry. I lost my phone. We need to talk. Ring me on this number.

Finally! Ellie hummed as she pressed Call and waited for him to pick up. He didn’t answer. Strange. She tried again. Same result.

Beep, beep. A new message:
Meet me on the 11 a.m. Manly Ferry.

She checked the time. Yep. She could make it to the post office and then walk to Circular Quay for eleven a.m.

An hour later, she stood in Pitt Street, the stream of pedestrians dividing around her as she clutched Nina’s Toshiba in her arms. The wind whipped her hair around her face and the strands caught on her damp cheeks, her eyes still full of tears. What was she going to find when she powered it up? She still didn’t understand how Nina’s computer had made it from Half Moon Bay to a post office box in Sydney without her or her father’s knowledge. The only answer could be Alex.

By the time the cab finally dropped her off in front of the ferry terminal, Ellie was composed again. Riding the ferries from Circular Quay had always been a delight. The grandeur of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the ethereal beauty of the Opera House floating on the edge of the Harbour never failed to inspire her. Circular Quay felt like a pulsing heart, the streams of people hurrying to catch trains, buses and ferries the blood in its veins.

She paid her money for a return ticket to Manly and headed to the gate, looking around for Alex. A movement caught her eye and she forced herself not to turn too suddenly. It was the older intruder from Half Moon Bay, Critter, loitering in a shop doorway with a cap pulled low over his ears and a dark-blue jacket.

They’re supposed to be in detention!
Ellie thought, her body tensing. She snuck another look, trying to see his face more clearly. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, she reasoned, trying to ignore her pounding heart.

It took considerable effort to wander down the boarding walkway. As she joined the queue she had a closer look at the man. It
was
Critter. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Clearly a set-up, but by who? Was Alex actually texting her, or was Critter sending them? Or were they working together? She chewed the inside of her lip. Should she ring Nick? She was at the front of the queue now and, still apprehensive, boarded the ferry.

As she headed towards the bow of the boat she saw him again, this time with a mobile phone pressed to his ear, as he too came aboard. She couldn’t see Alex anywhere. Time for some decisive action. Ellie stayed on the side of the vessel nearest the boarding gangplank and when the horn sounded its three short blasts as it prepared to reverse, she brushed past the deckhand and vaulted over the railing.

‘Hey, miss! You can’t do that.’

She waved at the young worker. ‘Sorry.’

She resisted the temptation to look back until she was clear of the turnstiles. Critter’s broad back was visible on the lower deck, heading in the opposite direction.

Was there anyone else here following her? she wondered, scanning the surrounding faces.

Her phone beeped.
Where are you?

On the ferry. Where are you?
she typed back.

Lower deck at the stern
.

So am I! How weird
. She couldn’t see anyone taking special notice of her.
OMG!!! I’m going the wrong way. I’m on the zoo ferry . . . Duh . . .

Take that
, she thought, as she sent the text.

Seconds later came the reply.
Ellie!!! Meet me at 3 at the Opera Bar. I have to see you.

She tapped the phone against her cheek. It seemed more likely that Critter was the one sending the texts.
Ok, xxx
, she sent back. Probably not that hard to get her number, she guessed
.
The alternative, which she had to acknowledge was still a possibility, was that Alex had set her up and was now staying out of sight while the others did the dirty work.

Damn it.

Had she been betrayed by an old friend? Maybe he was being threatened himself? Perhaps Critter’s boss was running his own agenda and Alex too was a victim.

Her mobile phone rang this time. ‘Hi, Nick.’ She couldn’t stop the surge of relief.

‘You’re either not home or you’re not answering my phone?’ He sounded wary.

‘No, I’m out and about in Sydney. I’m trying to catch up with Alex but he’s proving very elusive. Can I run something by you?’

‘Sure.’ He was guarded.

‘It’s just a theory. Let me give you the run-down and see what you make of it.’

When she got to the end of her hypothesis she had to hold the phone away from her ear at the volume of Nick’s response.

‘Holy shit! Where the hell are you now?’

‘Calm down. I jumped off just before the ferry left, but Alex, or someone, has sent more texts. It’s all a little too convenient.’

‘Ellie, other investigations are still ongoing. Connections from this mess go all the way to the highest level of international criminal organisations. You need to be off the streets and safe. Get in a cab and go home
now
!’

‘No, I want answers too, Nick. This is my community and my family caught up in this.’

‘Ellie, I’ll come and drag you off the bloody streets if I have to.’

‘And how the hell do you think you’ll find me?’

He laughed this time. ‘You think I don’t have technology at my fingertips to track your phone? Look,’ he hesitated and she could imagine him running an agitated hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry. I sound like I’m ordering you around. I just want you safe.’

‘So set him up with me as the bait, then.’

‘No-
bloody-
way.’

She smiled. Time to lob a hand grenade into the conversation. ‘Nick, what am I going to find when I open Nina’s computer?’

‘Nina’s computer? Where’d you get that?’

‘From a post office box. I’m going to find myself a power point, charge the battery enough to turn it on and when I do I’m guessing this whole mess will suddenly come into focus. I’ll have the wide-angle shot instead of a series of portraits and close-ups.’

‘Ellie, don’t do that.’ He sounded frantic. ‘Hand the computer over to the authorities. I can take it in for you. If you don’t trust me, then organise to hand it over to the Feds or Customs. You don’t need to be involved any more than you are.’

‘Too late, Nick. I deserve the truth and too many people are lying to me.’

She hung up and dropped the phone in her pocket. While she was talking she’d been walking and was now back in Pitt Street. She ducked inside a dark café bar with long narrow windows. She didn’t feel hungry at all, but she ordered a salad and coffee, then found a seat at the back with a power point close by.

It took five minutes for the computer’s battery to come to life enough to turn on. The first screen asked for a password and Ellie paused. Her phone vibrated again. Nick for the fifth time. He could wait. She was going to see if he really could track her phone.

Half an hour later she’d managed to unlock the computer but so far nothing had supplied any answers. This time when the phone rang again it was a private number. She answered it.

‘Ellie, it’s me. Where are you?’

‘Alex? Where are you?’ She sat up straight, looking left and right, wondering if he was close by.

‘I can’t tell you, but you need to be careful. Did you get the stuff?’

‘Stuff?’ She wasn’t giving anything away. Was it another ploy to entrap her?

‘Nina’s.’

‘Yep.’

‘You need to keep it safe. Take it to the police. Nina stirred up a hornet’s nest and you don’t need to do the same thing.’

‘No, Alex. I want the truth and I’m going to find it. We’re meeting at three at the Opera Bar, yes?’

‘Meeting at three? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did someone contact you? Ellie, listen to me. Shit . . .’ There was a noise Ellie couldn’t quite decipher. ‘I’ll ring you later.’ He sounded hoarse, as though he was running. The phone went dead.

Ellie was now certain Alex had nothing to do with the earlier texts. The fear in his voice was too real. She checked the time. Two-thirty. Time to see who the hell was really pulling the strings. After paying her bill she headed back down towards the Harbour. She stopped at a discount chain store and bought a dark-blue coat, scarf and a floppy hat. At the chemist next door she bought sunglasses Paris Hilton would have been proud to wear. In the toilets at Circular Quay she changed clothes, tied her hair up and shoved it under the hat. She wrapped the computer in her old coat and loaded it into the bottom of her backpack. With everything else transferred into the carry bag from the shop, she looked like a tourist out shopping in Sydney. She tugged the straps of the backpack, settling it on her shoulders.

At the Copenhagen ice-cream shop she bought a double waffle cone and then joined the crowd of sightseers heading towards the Opera House. Two young French women were trying to read a map. Ellie stopped to help with her basic French. They were looking for Mrs Macquarie’s Chair.

‘I’ll show you where the walk starts,’ Ellie volunteered. She made sure she was on the outside of the trio as they ambled along past the designer shops and restaurants still buzzing with customers. She licked the last of the macadamia ice-cream from her fingers and tossed the paper serviette in the bin. They were almost there.

The Opera Bar sprawled along the walkway and Ellie steered the others onto the elevated side so she was looking down into the bar. A charge of alarm almost made her stumble. Critter was sitting at a table tucked back against the bar. At another table further on was the younger intruder. He had a mobile phone in his hand. Ellie felt the vibration against her leg. A text. She stopped the two girls. ‘Photo?’ she asked, digging her camera out of the carry bag.

‘Sure, sure.’ As the two girls rummaged around in their bags, Ellie kept talking. She lined the two men up and reeled off a string of shots. The light wasn’t great but she was sure they’d be recognisable.

It didn’t take much to manoeuvre the girls into a shot that had the men in the background. The two men were starting to look agitated. Ellie returned the girls’ cameras and pulled her phone out.
Where are you?
the message read.

Just coming along past the jet boats. CU in 2
, she sent back. Under pretence of zooming in on a seagull, Ellie watched the young man read the message and then give Critter the thumbs up. He motioned to his left in the direction of the jet boat office. ‘Holy hell,’ she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. She was right. Critter’s mate was sending the texts, but who was giving the orders?

‘
Pardon
?’ one of the girls asked.

‘Nothing,’ she replied. ‘I have to go now, but you just walk around past the Opera House and follow the path. It’s about half an hour’s walk. You’ll be okay?’

She waved as they left, turning the camera over in her hands and scanning the crowd.

‘Ellie?’

She turned before she could stop herself and in that split-second knew she was in danger. The startling blue eyes and cold smile looked the same in real life as they did on a Facebook page. They belonged to Lachlan, Teisha’s friend. She knew without a doubt this was the man in charge.

‘
Pardonnez-moi
?’ she asked, taking a step backwards and clutching the camera defensively in front of her, hearing the shutter open and close in rapid fire as she kept her finger on the button, collecting evidence.

‘It’s Ellie, Ellie Wilding. You’re a friend of Alex’s.’

‘
Mais non
.’ She backed up further, purposely bumping a table with several men in suits indulging in a late lunch. ‘
Excusez-moi
,’ she apologised, as their bottle of wine almost toppled.

One of the men put out a hand to steady her. ‘You okay?’

Ellie smiled at him. ‘
Merci
. I’m so sorry.’ She laid on a thick accent.

Lachlan had stopped, but Ellie realised he was waiting for Critter and his mate to thread their way through the tables. Surely to God they weren’t going to try anything stupid in public?