The Son (27 page)

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Authors: Marc Santailler

Tags: #Fiction - Thriller, #Fiction - War, #Fiction - History

BOOK: The Son
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Tony Scarferi spoke up from the other end of the table. He was a plump, dark-chinned man with suspicious eyes and a flat grating voice.

‘What makes you so sure he'll stick with us? He's already switched sides once. What's to stop him from switching sides again? If he hates the communists so much.'

There spoke the true party man, I thought. He'd know all about switching sides. But I nodded, to show I took his question seriously.

‘Two reasons, mainly. He hates murder, and injustice. He was genuinely distressed by Quang's murder. He'd begun to waver before that, but that was the last straw. And he owes me. I'm the one who gave him his father. I didn't betray him, after I was beaten up, by going to the cops as I could have, I did that to protect him, and he knows that. And I told him about his father, I helped him get photos of him, thanks to Roger. He now knows his father worked for the Agency. He's not going to betray that.'

Scarferi nodded dubiously. It probably took more than that in his game to ensure your full loyalty.

‘What about his aunt?' asked Truscott. ‘Can she be trusted too?'

‘Yes. She's fine. She's onside. She knows nothing about the assassination plot, by the way. And she's about to fly back to Britain for a few days. On personal business. I can vouch for her.'

‘Where is she now?'

‘Staying with me.'

He shot me a look from under his beetling eyebrows. No one said anything, though there was a stir of interest. Maybe they noticed the shadows under my eyes. Maynard spoke up.

‘Good. Well, that's all been very useful. Thanks again, Paul. If nobody else has any further questions?'

I put my hand up.

‘I've got a few.'

They all looked at me again. The examinee who asked questions back. Roger gave me a look of warning but I ignored him. Maynard nodded.

‘Of course. Go ahead.'

‘First, what's to stop you stepping in right now and putting an end to it? Why can't you just go and arrest them?'

There was a general shuffle around the table. Roger looked at Maynard, who looked back at him. Whitmont looked at her hands. Commander Considine rubbed his chin and looked at me. Truscott glowered and sat back in his chair. Roger finally spoke up.

‘Because we can't,' he said flatly. ‘We don't have enough information to charge any of them. We could step in right now but all that would achieve would be to warn them we're on to them and probably drive them underground.'

‘But that would stop the assassination attempt, wouldn't it?'

‘Not necessarily. We don't know what else they have up their sleeve. Commander Considine may be right. Maybe Jason is only meant as a decoy. In any case we have nothing that would stand up in court. We need to know more.'

‘How much more do you need before you can pull Jason out?'

He looked round again, at Maynard and Truscott.

‘We need at the very least to know what their plan is. How they propose to kill Loc. When we know that we'll be able to decide what to do.'

‘Meanwhile he may be risking his neck.'

‘We're taking every care, Paul,' he said sharply. ‘We're not taking any chances on that. You've met his handler, Medea. She's one of our best. There's no reason why he should come to grief. Stop worrying. He volunteered, remember!'

Yes, I thought. And he's just a boy. But I let it ride. Considine was watching me closely. I went on.

‘Do you have any idea at this stage what that plan may be? How they can get close enough to Loc to take a shot at him?'

‘Not yet.' Roger looked at Considine.

‘We're looking at all the options,' Considine said. ‘But until we hear more from him we don't really know.'

‘Where's Loc staying, do you know?'

He looked at Maynard, who looked at Roger, then back at me.

‘Southern Aurora Apartments. In Clarence Street, in the city, between Erskine and King. Upmarket serviced apartments.'

‘Not a hotel.'

‘No. Apparently he likes quiet places, and it's quieter than a hotel. Also cheaper. They've taken a couple of suites there.'

‘Just for the one night?'

‘Yes. Wednesday the 3rd. Arriving after lunch from Canberra, leaving mid-morning the next day for New Zealand.' He looked at his notes, checked himself. ‘Actually no. He's only staying one night, but one or two of his party will be staying there the night before as well, instead of going on to Canberra.'

‘And who's that?'

‘Not sure yet. There's several people coming with him, Tanya has details.'

Maynard looked at Tanya Throsby.

‘He's got a personal assistant,' she said. ‘Plus a senior official from their Ministry of Trade, another one from their Foreign Ministry, and one security man. Five altogether.'

‘We suspect the Foreign Ministry man is really from their Ministry of Interior, probably from the Department of Public Security,' added Roger. ‘A minder, to make sure he says the right things. That's all we know. His name is Truong Dzu, but we have no traces on him.'

‘Thanks. I assume he'll have a full programme when he's here.'

‘Pretty well,' said Maynard. ‘Meeting at the airport, taken to the consulate while some of the party go to the apartments, a call on the Premier, then he'll go to his apartment too, late afternoon meeting with some business leaders, including some from the Vietnamese community, evening reception hosted by the Deputy Premier. Early night, back to the apartments about ten, ten thirty, I should think. In the morning, straight to the airport and off to New Zealand.'

‘Thanks.' I looked at Considine.

‘Commander, may I ask what measures you're taking for Loc's protection?'

‘Paul!' Roger cut in sharply, but I put my hand up.

‘I know. Strictly speaking that's none of my business. But I'm concerned about the young man. Commander, I don't want to see Loc assassinated any more than you do. From all I hear he's a good man. But it's Jason I'm worried about. I brought him into this, I'm the one who asked him to stick his neck out. Precisely to make sure that this assassination attempt doesn't succeed and those responsible are caught. What assurances can you give me that he himself won't get killed in the process?'

Considine nodded.

‘Fair enough,' he said in his deep baritone. ‘Until we know more about what they're planning our precautions can only be general. But they'll be thorough. Loc will be escorted at all times by a team of plain clothes officers. All visitors and guests will be screened. All his public appearances are indoors, he won't be seen out in the open, except briefly at the airport, and that'll also be secured. Access to the apartments will be strictly controlled.'

‘Where do you think the attack is likely to take place?' I asked.

He shook his head.

‘Too early to say.'

‘Have you thought of switching the venues at the last minute?'

‘We can't do that for his public meetings. Too difficult to manage, and the guests wouldn't put up with it.'

‘What about his accommodation? What's to stop you moving him to a hotel instead at the last minute? Who chose it in the first place?'

‘His consulate I expect. Don't worry, we're looking at that too. Rest assured, Paul, we'll be doing everything we can. And that includes protecting your young man. No one's going to get killed on my beat.'

‘Thank you.' I looked around. No one stirred for a moment. Then Maynard spoke.

‘Fine. I think that's it for today. Thank you everyone. I'll keep you posted about our next meeting. And thank you again for coming, Paul. You've been a great help. Can we call on you if we need your assistance again?'

‘Of course.' He stood up, the rest followed, milling about for a moment. Roger came up to me. He wasn't amused. ‘I told you to let the grown-ups do the talking!'

‘Come on, you didn't expect me to sit still and say nothing, did you? What's happening with Bach, by the way?'

‘What about him?'

‘You were going to get something from the Americans. Has anything come through yet?'

He shook his head. Behind him Considine loomed. He was strangely built, almost top-heavy, with his massive chest on top of slim hips and long spindly legs.

‘What's this about Bach?' he asked.

‘Nothing much,' Roger said. ‘We've asked the Americans if they have anything on him but they haven't responded yet.'

‘I'll be interested when they do,' Considine said. ‘There's something I don't like about that man.'

‘Me either,' I said. ‘Roger? Still on for lunch?'

‘Sorry. Cancelled. I have to rush back to Canberra.'

‘Hey–'

‘Bob will escort you out. I've got to go. I'll give you a ring when anything comes up.' He made off before I could say anything, with Keith in tow. Considine looked after him thoughtfully, then back at me.

‘Can I have your phone number, Paul? In case I need to get in touch with you myself.'

‘Of course.' I gave him my business card, and wrote my home number and address on the back. He gave me his own card in return, with the NSW Police crest, and his rank and name and a phone number.

‘In case you need to get in touch with me. That's a direct line. If someone else answers just say the codeword Dragon. That'll bring either me or Barnes.' Barnes was his deputy, also at the meeting.

‘Thank you Commander.'

‘Call me Brian. That was interesting, what you told us. You've done some good work there.'

Then he too was gone. Maynard escorted me to the front door.

‘If I don't see you again over this,' he said, ‘give me a ring sometime, we'll have lunch together.'

Hao was out when I came back to the office. The agent had called, to say that he'd put her on a flight the next day, and she had gone home to pack. I took the opportunity to talk to Vivien. I'd done some hard thinking on the way back, and a plan was beginning to form in my mind. A rather crazy plan, but there were several things I didn't like out of that meeting, and it was better to be prepared.

It pays to have a suspicious mind.

CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT

I didn't much enjoy taking Hao to the airport on the Friday evening. We had made love again the night before, long and tenderly, as if we sensed that it might be our last chance for some time. I was filled with an uneasy foreboding. We spent a few last minutes together before she went through Immigration. Eric was there too, looking sombre. She'd rung him the day before and he'd said he'd try to make it. I nodded at him and he nodded coolly back but otherwise kept his distance.

‘Why aren't you two talking?' she asked in alarm.

‘It's alright,' I said. ‘He's just sticking to his cover. We're not supposed to be friendly. You can talk to him. Tell him I said hello.'

She went and spoke with him for a moment. His face lit up, and he gave me a quick glance. He said something back to her and she smiled and hugged him. Then he resumed his stern look.

‘What did you say to him?' I asked.

‘I told him we're going to get married. He's so happy. He was afraid we'd had another quarrel. He says he hopes you don't mind, but he's not going to call you Daddy.'

‘Thank God for that.'

‘He also said not to worry, everything's going well. You will look after him, Paul? You promised.'

‘I will. I'll guard him with my life if need be.'

We clung to each other briefly. Passionate in private, reserved in public, like all well-bred Asian women.

‘I'll ring you Sunday morning.'

Then she was gone. When I turned round Eric had also disappeared.

The weekend went as lonely weekends do, too slowly for comfort. When I got home I rang Vivien to check how things were going, and she told me everything was well in hand. On Saturday I went to work for a few hours, but that was more to kill time than to achieve anything. I tried to contact Roger but he wasn't at home or in his office, and the Agency in those days didn't allow mobile phones. On Sunday I made the first of several purchases. Then at five I drove to Vivien's flat in Greenwich, to pick her up and start implementing the first part of my plan. And that night Hao rang as promised.

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