The Son (26 page)

‘It's the least he can do.'

I wasn't looking forward to Hao's departure. But she was right. It would make life much easier for me over the coming days. I was finding it increasingly unpleasant having to lie to her, and I knew it would only get worse as the climax drew nearer. This way, I'd be able to get on with the job unhindered.

The job? As far as I was concerned, all that mattered now was protecting Eric. I kept having second thoughts, and wished I'd listened harder to her. It was too late to back out now, I was stuck with what I had started, all I could do was stay with it and make sure he came out unharmed.

The problem was, I didn't have a clue how to do it.

PART V

MEN WITH GUNS

I felt a little rebellious the next morning when I went to attend Roger's meeting at ASIO's regional headquarters. It was in Kurraba Road in Neutral Bay, a short drive from the office, in a large red-brick Federation-era mansion which had been extended at the back. Roger met me at the glassed-in reception area inside the entrance.

‘A word of caution,' he said as he signed me in. ‘We've got some brass here and they're keen to meet you, but you haven't come here to tell them what to do. Is that clear?'

‘Very clear,' I said, determined not to let him bully me. Whatever happened, I was going to make sure I was heard. He led me through to a room at the back, with a conference table and a large picture window overlooking Shell Cove and Cremorne Point. A group of people in office suits and dresses stood looking at the view and drinking coffee. To judge by the papers on the table the meeting had already started.

One of the group detached himself and came over. This was Bob Maynard, the ASIO Regional Director, a slender pleasant man about my own age. I'd met him years earlier when he and I had worked together on a joint operation, and I remembered him as a quiet achiever.

‘Paul, how are you! It's good to see you.'

We shook hands, and he introduced me to the rest. Most of them were from Canberra, and I recognised other faces from the past: Tanya Throsby, from Foreign Affairs, Edwin Truscott, from PM&C – the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet, also formerly from Foreign. Two or three senior police officers in civvies, from New South Wales Police and the AFP – the Australian Federal Police – and another heavy, Tony Scarferi from the NSW Premier's office. I wondered briefly at this concentration of bureaucratic artillery, then remembered that we were dealing with an attempt to assassinate a foreign leader on Australian soil. It stood to reason that government at both federal and state level would want to monitor this with great care. Maynard's deputy was also there and Roger had brought Keith along, but there was no sign of Samantha.

‘Grab yourself some coffee,' Maynard said. He motioned me to a place near him as the others resumed their seats. As host he chaired the meeting, even though he was outranked by several of the participants.

‘Paul Quinn has been kind enough to attend this meeting,' he started. ‘As you've gathered he's now a private citizen.' He ran briefly through my background, then asked Roger to bring me up to date. Roger looked at me with a bland expression, giving no hint of his earlier displeasure.

‘Very quickly, Paul, everyone here has been briefed about this case, which is codenamed
Dragon
, so I won't go over the basics again. I've told the meeting what we know about the Mad Buffaloes, how you came to us with what you'd found out, and the role your young man is playing. He's also got a code name by the way,
Jason
, and his case officer is
Medea
.' That was Samantha of course. Some classical wag in Security.

‘She met him last night, and we now know a little more about the Mad Buffaloes' plans. It seems clear they'll try and mount their attack here in Sydney and not in Canberra. Canberra's too open, too easy to protect, it would be too difficult for them there. They're organising some noisy demonstrations both there and in Sydney, but that's mainly atmospherics. The attack is likely to be much more stealthy. That's all we know so far, Jason still can't tell us exactly where or when, or how.'

‘One point I should make. Both the PM and the Premier are watching this case with great attention. And this is now very much a police operation, together with ASIO – New South Wales police here in Sydney, AFP in Canberra. We'll continue to run Jason ourselves, but apart from that we're here as observers. This case now belongs to Commander Considine–' he nodded towards one of the police officers – ‘and to Bob's crowd. Just so we're clear.'

‘Of course.' It made sense. The Agency had no business providing VIP security, that was a police job, and the intelligence side was now essentially an ASIO matter. But this raised questions, not least about Eric's role. I kept quiet.

‘One other thing. Security. Everyone here knows you used to be with us, and you've behaved throughout with the discretion one would expect from a former ASIA officer. But you're an outsider now, and you no longer have any clearances. Strictly speaking you shouldn't be here. Just so you know, this operation is Top Secret, and strictly limited. No leaks, no words to the press, or to anyone outside this room. Under pain of death. Is that clear?'

‘Crystal,' I said drily, starting to get irritated. Then I understood. His words were really meant for the others. Not all public servants had the same sense of discretion as spies. That went for the police as well, and particularly for political appointees. Scarferi had all the hallmarks of a party apparatchik.

‘Good.' He passed me back to Maynard, who smiled at me, as if to make up for Roger's asperity, and thanked me again for having brought the case to them. Then he threw the debate open for questions.

The first was from Kathy Whitmont, a sharp-faced woman from the Attorney-General's Department in Canberra.

‘Could you tell us how you came to be involved in this business.'

I nodded. That was the logical place to start.

‘Certainly. It was by coincidence, really. I was approached by a relative of the young man in question. Jason.' I'd have to remember to call him that.

‘Is that his aunt?'

‘Yes.' I explained the background, and the steps which had led me to Quang.

‘That's the man who was murdered, correct?'

This from Truscott. A jowly, heavy man with a pompous manner, who'd been ambassador in a couple of B-grade missions before moving closer to the centre of power. Not to be underestimated for all that. PM&C didn't go in for deadwood.

‘Yes.'

‘What makes you think his death was connected to this?'

‘Gut feeling. Nothing I could prove. But he was inquiring into the Mad Buffaloes, he was getting deeper into them, his last comments to me before he was killed suggested he was on the verge of finding out something pretty sensitive. There was that. And I already knew they were capable of violence. I'd been beaten up by them myself only two weeks earlier. It made sense.'

‘You didn't go to the police with that.'

‘No.' The Whitmont woman again, with the look of an examiner putting a candidate through his paces. I didn't mind. I'd have my turn later.

She looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate. Another one observing me was Commander Brian Considine, head of the State Protection Group in the NSW Police. He was a powerful, muscular man with the head of a bull, tough and uncompromising, topped by a cap of tight black curls beginning to go grey, about Roger's age. He had the hard flat stare of a cop, but there was an intelligent gleam in his eyes and I had the feeling that he didn't miss much.

‘A couple of reasons,' I said. ‘First, I couldn't prove anything. All I had were suspicions. Strong suspicions, but nothing that would stand up in court. And I knew enough about Vietnamese to know that if the police started to question them they would simply clam up. So I decided instead to go to Roger. My old employer. I thought in the circumstances they would know best what to do. If Quang was right, and if my gut feeling was right, this murder and everything connected with it was part of a deeper plot, which was to do something nasty to Loc. And that was something Canberra needed to know about.'

I paused. They waited, still watching me. I went on.

‘My second reason was Jason. Especially after my beating. He'd been very defensive towards me at first, very suspicious. I knew that if I reported it to the police they would come down pretty heavily on that gang, including him. But I was starting to know him better, and I was pretty sure he wasn't involved in my beating. So I took a decision. I wouldn't tell the police, but I'd use it on him. I'd use that incident to gain his trust. And it worked. From that moment on he began to trust me. He was shocked by what had happened. He felt responsible, because he'd told his friends I was harassing him, and that was what had led to the beating. But he hadn't expected it to happen, and he was genuinely dismayed by it. He still felt a strong loyalty to that group. But it began to shake him. And when Quang was killed he was really shaken. That's when I put the hard word on him. And when he agreed to help me.'

‘What made you so sure he wasn't part of it all? That he hadn't himself taken part in the beating? Or wanted it to happen?'

‘I could tell. He's an emotional lad, with a great capacity for commitment. But he's not violent. Not in that sense. He dislikes injustice more than anything else. I could see his reactions were genuine. And after Quang's death he himself contacted us – contacted me, and there was no hesitation then about working for me.'

‘When you say working for you, you mean you used him as a source?'

‘Yes.'

There was a pause, while people thought of their next questions. I was still aware of Considine studying me. Maynard filled the hiatus.

‘Can you tell us something about the Vietnamese community, Paul. It's not an area I've had much to do with. Apart from Brian here I doubt any of us know much about it.'

‘I don't know much either,' said Considine, speaking for the first time. He had a deep, rather pleasant baritone voice. ‘I've never dealt with them myself. And I don't want to ask our area command in Cabramatta. We're also playing this close to the chest.' A dig back at Roger. His face remained bland.

‘I'm not sure they'd be much use to you anyway, Commander,' I said. ‘I don't think the Mad Buffaloes are very involved in crime. Sorry. It's years since I had anything to do with the Vietnamese in Sydney, my knowledge is way out of date. But here's what I know, for what it's worth.'

I gave them a quick thumbnail sketch. I talked of a hard-working community, with its various components, the regional variations, the religious affiliations, their wariness of outsiders, which made them secretive at first, but the way they opened up to those who took the trouble to know them, their generosity, their combination of hard work, intelligence, and sometimes fractious individualism. I talked rather more than I intended, but my audience didn't seem to mind. And after that came more questions. About the Mad Buffaloes, Quang. And about Eric/Jason.

‘Do you think Quang was genuine?'

‘Absolutely. I'd stake my life on it.'

‘What about the Mad Buffaloes: are they capable of carrying out this threat?'

‘I think so. I don't know much about them apart from what Jason has told me. Some of them are probably not much better than thugs. But others are very committed, they're fiercely anti-communist, and there's some brains there as well. Their leader, the man I suspect is their real leader, Bach, is very clever. Vo Khanh, the ex-Marine major, is just a fighting man, courageous but not very smart. But Bach is very sharp. If he's behind it all, and if Jason weren't working for us, I think there's a good chance they'd succeed.'

‘Hmm.' Truscott again. ‘You think Jason would be up to it? If he weren't working for us, as you say?'

‘Yes. He's very courageous too. As I told you he's the kind of idealistic young man who would be very committed, once he espoused a cause. That's why I know you can rely on him for this job. If he were really working for them, I have no doubt he'd try just as hard.'

‘Do you think they're using him as a decoy? Knowing that we may be on to him, because of his association with you?'

That came from Considine, and it was a shrewd question. I considered it.

‘No, I don't. I think I know why they've picked him.'

‘Why's that?' Ms Whitmont, making her mark again.

‘Several reasons. First, because of what I said. He's good. He's intelligent, resourceful, quick, and from their point of view totally committed. He's both available and expendable. But there's another reason, which I think is even more important. He doesn't look Vietnamese.'

Considine nodded.

‘He doesn't even look Eurasian. And he speaks perfect English, without a trace of an accent. If anyone is going to get close to Loc he's much more likely to succeed than someone who looks as if they've just come off a refugee boat.'