Joshua runs ahead to open the gate, but Rowena and the other men take their time. I count their steps as they approach the bend in the path and—
Nate, Joshua jogging agitatedly behind, strides purposefully towards Rowena. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘Who are you?’
With a giant fake smile, Nate hands her a card. ‘Nathan Gillespie. Great to meet you at last.’
Rowena looks from the card to me and then back to Nate. ‘What do you want?’
‘You answer my questions, ma’am, and I’ll answer yours.’ He points to a spot where the railings meet at right angles. ‘How about you and your posse gather over there?’
‘Why should we?’
‘If I call the police, you’ll be answering questions face down on the concrete.’
‘No harm in a chat,’ Joshua grunts.
As Rowena and the three men make their way to the railings, Nate walks to me. Frowning a little, he puts an arm around my shoulders.
‘The police are ten minutes away,’ he whispers.
‘D … d …’ Try again. ‘Rowena? You knew?’
‘Rowena’s involvement was a bit …’ He grimaces. ‘A bit on the sensitive side.’
‘I … I …’ I swallow. ‘They took my phone. They know I called you.’
He whistles under his breath. ‘Blake’s gonna kill me.’
‘W … w …’
Nate looks over my shoulder. He mutters under his breath. ‘I told him to wait.’
Blake’s stride is long, his gaze is fixed on me. When he reaches us, he shoves Nate aside and takes my hands.
‘Are you all right?’
I nod.
‘Blake!’ Rowena’s voice is shrill. ‘What on earth is going on? Why are you here?’
I search Blake’s face. I want to know that too.
Nate touches my arm. ‘Blake will explain. I’ll go get your phone.’
As Nate walks away, Blake pulls me closer. ‘I was at the airport when Nate called. He’s after Rowena, not Farquhar.’
‘She knows about the hormone. Pascal administered it, but Farquhar found out.’
‘Nate doesn’t want her to know about the police.’
‘I have to tell you … something else.’
He squeezes my hands. ‘What, Prim?’
‘Merrylegs.’ I bite hard on my lip. ‘She lost her foal.’
He rests his face against mine. His mouth is soft on my cheek. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart.’
‘How is Merrylegs?’
‘She’s okay.’
‘Blake!’ Nate calls. ‘You got a minute?’
When Blake takes off his jacket and hands it to me, I don’t hesitate, shrugging into it and fastening the buttons. Grasping my hand again, he leads me towards the others but stops a few metres short. Nate is asking Rowena questions about where she lives and how often she goes to Sydney, and Rowena is snapping replies. After a minute or two, she pointedly looks at her watch.
‘Call me during office hours,’ she says. ‘I’ve had enough.’
Nate fakes another smile. ‘Soon as I’m done, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, stay where you are.’
‘Yeah?’ Joshua snarls. ‘And what if we don’t?’
‘Blake.’ Nate glances my way. ‘Get Prim out.’
‘I don’t—’
When Joshua swings a fist, Nate blocks it with his forearm. ‘Get her out!’
Blake squeezes my hand. ‘Go back to where you were. Stay out of the way.’
‘What about you?’
‘Nate needs help.’
Rowena is still in the corner, furiously texting, as I return to the railings. When the man with the studs pushes Nate in the back and the man with the bleached hair takes him in a headlock, she barely looks up. Nate frees himself, but Joshua grabs his arm before punching him hard in the stomach. Nate staggers backwards and Blake catches him before lowering him to the ground.
‘Blake.’ Nate’s breaths are laboured. ‘You and Prim gotta get outta here. They’re gonna—’
When Joshua rushes headlong towards Blake, Blake grabs him by his shirtfront, spins him around, draws back an arm and smashes a fist into his nose. A crunch, a grunt. Joshua crumples to the ground. But now the man with bleached hair is running towards Blake. After stepping clear, Blake lifts a leg and kicks the man in his hip. Roaring in pain, arms flailing, the man crashes into a railing.
Blake is catching his breath when the man with the studs grabs Nate’s arm and knees him in the side. Nate retaliates with a fist but misses.
‘Get out of the way!’ Blake shoves Nate to the side, grabs the man by the hair, yanks and twists, throwing the man off balance. As he falls, Blake kicks him in the thigh.
‘Blake!’ Nate calls out as the man with bleached hair, who’s climbed to the top of a railing, leaps through the air and crashes down on Blake. They fall to the ground, rolling and punching until Blake gets to his feet. The other man, swearing, and bleeding from the nose, stands too. He and Blake, fists up, circle each other. Blake strikes first, punching the man in his side, but the other man retaliates, hitting Blake in the shoulder. When Blake staggers back, the man swings again, punching Blake hard in the mouth. His head snaps back.
Patience can fight. I have no idea how to fight. And I have no words. But I run full tilt at the man.
‘Nate!’ Blake shouts.
Nate intercepts me, grasping my arm and pulling me away. Then, head low, fists bunched, Nate backs the man with bleached hair against the railing and punches him in the ribs. As the man pitches forward, Blake hits him in the jaw. The man rolls onto his side, clutching his face. He brings his knees up to his chest.
Nate grins at Blake. ‘Where’d you learn to fight like that?’
The man with bleached hair, still on the ground, grabs Blake’s ankle. ‘Get the fucker!’
When Blake drops to his knees on the man’s chest, he grunts and releases his grip. But the man with the studs charges Blake like an elephant, tackling him and knocking him backwards. Blake lifts his legs, scissoring the man’s torso before twisting and throwing him on his back. Left arm held close to his chest, Blake hits the man in the face with his right hand, again and again and—
‘Buddy!’ Nate, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, grasps Blake’s arm. ‘He’s read the memo.’
Blake pulls his arm free. His knuckles are bloodied. ‘What?’
‘I told them to stay.’ Nate glances at the man on the ground. ‘Reckon he’s got the message.’
With a look of contempt, Blake climbs off the man and watches as he crawls to his friends. Then he turns, searching for me. He considers his hand, wipes it on his pants. He presses his mouth against his sleeve and leaves a red stain. Eyes dark and troubled, he faces me again.
After Nate directs the men to the railing, he looks them over. ‘They’ll live,’ he says to Rowena.
‘No thanks to you.’
Nate takes out his phone and makes a call as he walks to me and Blake. ‘All good. Got it. I’ll call when I’m done.’
Speaking quietly so the others can’t hear, Nate tells us the police have arrived but will stay out of sight until he’s talked to Rowena. ‘I’ll brief them later,’ he says.
‘What about Blake’s shoulder? We should call an ambulance.’
‘Can’t it wait?’
‘No!’
‘It’s bruised, Prim.’ Blake touches my arm. ‘Make me a sling.’
After taking a bandage and strapping tape out of my bag, I follow Blake’s instructions, fashioning a sling that anchors his forearm to his chest. When I clean the cut on his mouth with antiseptic wipes, he flinches.
‘S … s … sorry.’ I change gloves to clean the cut on Nate’s head. ‘You might need … stitches.’
‘I’ll do them now,’ Blake says. ‘Get me a needle.’
Nate takes a step back. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘He’s joking.’ I pull Nate towards me again.
‘You can leave.’ Nate says. ‘The police will look after you.’
‘I’m … staying.’
Nate looks cautiously at Blake. ‘I told you she’d ace it.’
Blake glares. ‘Fuck off.’
Not too perturbed, Nate saunters to Rowena. ‘How about we have another little chat?’
When her bun comes loose, she piles it back on her head. ‘I have no idea what’s going on.’
‘Could be,’ Nate says, ‘that you unleashed your dogs.’
‘Who are you?’
‘A man you’ll get to know better.’
Joshua scowls as he straightens his leg. ‘Whatever she’s done, keep us out of it. We’re the hired help.’
‘These men were taking me to Sydney,’ Rowena says. ‘That’s what he means.’
Joshua tugs his shirt out of his pants and wipes his face. ‘I’ve got a busted nose, Ivan’s lost three teeth and the young bloke’s black and blue. I’ve got a good mind to sue for assault.’
‘Tell that to the police when you’re charged,’ Nate says.
‘For self-defence?’
‘I’d say ten years, maybe more.’
Nate indicates Rowena. ‘We’ve got a dossier on her.’
‘She’s nothing to us.’
‘In that case—’ Nate grins, ‘—maybe we can help each other out.’
‘None of us have anything to hide.’ Rowena straightens her collar, smooths her shirt. ‘Naturally, we’ll cooperate with—’
‘It’s not drugs, is it?’ Joshua puts his hand to one side of his mouth and spits out blood. ‘Better not be.’
‘Nate?’ When I move closer to Nate, Blake shadows me. ‘Rowena knew Pascal had administered the PMSG. Farquhar … was angry when he found out.’
‘Did you give Pascal the hormone?’ Nate asks Rowena. ‘Pop a little extra in your cargo?’
‘I import jewellery for the zoo,’ Rowena says. ‘Costume jewellery. It’s a charitable concern.’
‘Trouble is …’ Nate’s eyes go to the circular pendant at Rowena’s throat. ‘It’s not all fake.’
Rowena slaps a hand over the necklace. ‘I want a lawyer!’
‘As is your right,’ Nate says. ‘In the meantime, quit interrupting me and my buddy Joshua.’
‘What’s this all about?’ Joshua says. ‘I want nothing to do with any of it.’
The man with the studs, a hand over his nose, addresses Nate. ‘Have you heard what they call her?’
‘You could confirm it.’
‘This’ll help, right? This cooperation?’
‘It sure as hell won’t hurt.’
‘She’s called “the jeweller”.’
Joshua wipes his bloodied nose again. ‘Me and the boys do security work—you know, parties and shindigs at waterfront mansions. A couple of weeks back, Rowena and I had a chat. She told me she might need an escort, a safe passage out of Sydney and maybe offshore. That’s the gig we were given.’
‘Rowena … suspected there might be an investigation,’ I say. ‘She asked me if I knew anything.’
‘What’s PMSG?’ Joshua says. ‘It’s a drug, right? I lost one of my kids to a heroin overdose. You ask anyone, I don’t do nothing to do with drugs.’
‘Why is Rowena called “the jeweller”?’ Blake asks Nate.
‘Because she buys diamonds.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ Rowena splutters. ‘Ridiculous!’
‘Blood diamonds,’ Nate says.
‘W … what …’ I try again. ‘What are they?’
‘They’re diamonds mined by desperate people in horrific conditions,’ Nate says. ‘Diamonds used to fund criminal activity.’
‘Is that why …’
‘The UN has an interest.’
The man with bleached hair, holding a tooth between two fingers, wipes his mouth with his sleeve. ‘We don’t touch shit like that.’
‘Be quiet!’ Rowena says.
‘It’s all right for you,’ Joshua says. ‘You’ll get a bunch of lawyers with wigs and we’ll get spotty little interns. Like I said before, we’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘I told you to shut up!’ Rowena’s fists are clenched.
‘You’re not my boss.’
‘Anything more to say, Rowena?’ Nate feels tentatively around the cut on his forehead. ‘Because, soon enough, you’ll want to be my friend.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Interpol will get access to your contacts and suppliers. And, as this isn’t your first rodeo, I reckon you must have a real fat address book.’
‘I don’t know any suppliers.’
‘Your contacts will know the suppliers. And those suppliers won’t appreciate the uncertainty of what you might know and what you might not.’
Rowena turns the ring on her finger around and around. ‘Are you suggesting I’m in danger?’
‘You’ll need protection,’ Nate says. ‘If you cooperate, we might give a thought to getting you some.’