Damn! This must be the longest sixty minutes in history, Kit said to herself, as she stared at the 'back in one hour' sign that still hung on the closed door of Nostalgia Incorporated. It looked like the only way she was going to find out anything about Factor Four was to break in. But not in broad daylight. She crossed the road, carefully this time, and walked back to the Celica where Alex was still on her mobile arguing with Quinn.
'Ah, O'Malley. Will you please tell Quinn you don't need her tagging along with you on this warehouse stakeout tonight.'
'I don't need you tagging along with me on this warehouse stakeout tonight,' Kit repeated, settling back into the passenger seat. Alex glared at her.
'But Kit...' Quinn started to say.
'But nothing Quinn. I don't need you there and I really don't want you there. It might be dangerous this time. And besides you have to go to this dinner tonight.'
'Oh, bullshit. If Geoffrey-the-scumbag is still going to the warehouse he'll have to leave early. So can I.'
'Quinn it's one thing for the now-junior partner to make his excuses in the middle of dinner but another thing for the new chairperson of the board to get up and follow him for no apparent reason,' Alex said.
'The thing is, I don't think I'll be able to control myself in his company for much longer. I'd much rather kill him and have done with it.'
'That's understandable, but please don't do it at dinner in front of the entire upper management of OHP. It's Geoffrey we want to put in jail, not you,' Kit said.
'Douglas and I will be there with you,' Alex reminded her. 'And once Geoffrey leaves, you won't have to endure his company any longer, and Kit can do her job without having to worry about you.'
'I don't think I want to be chairperson of the bloody board,' Quinn complained. 'I suppose I have to dress the part as well. Could you bring my black dress, shoes, and a change of underwear from your place when you go home to change please Alex.'
'Of course. We should be back at O'Malley's in a couple of hours, so have a nice long bath or something while you're waiting.' Alex hung up and turned to face Kit. 'Do you think she's ready for all this responsibility?'
Kit shrugged. 'She'll be fine, I'm sure. Being thrown right into the middle of something is one of the best ways of finding out what you're made of. Which is, I'm sure, what Celia had in mind for her - though obviously not so soon and not under these circumstances. It's my opinion, however, that if becoming a publishing tycoon overnight was the only thing that Quinn had on her plate, she'd already be in there strutting her stuff. But she's got all this other shit to deal with as well, so the sooner we solve Celia's murder and expose Geoffrey the better.'
'Speak of the devil.' Alex was pointing at the Bentley which had pulled up on the other side of the road, in front of Nostalgia Inc. Geoffrey approached the door but didn't knock or try the handle, as Kit had done despite the sign. He just stood there - waiting. A couple of minutes later Ian Dalkeith and his white Mercedes pulled into the parking spot in front of Geoffrey's car. His passengers, Gerald Grainger and Christo 'Snakehips' Edwards, waited with Geoffrey on the footpath while Dalkeith unlocked the door of the studio.
'That's the little bastard who tried to run me down,' Kit snarled as she watched them all go inside.
'And the guy who picked Byron up,' Alex stated.
'We think,' Kit said.
'We know,' Alex said. 'Quinn said Damien rang and confirmed he was the guy Tooly saw with Byron.'
'Good. I suppose I'd better let Marek know,' Kit muttered. 'Tomorrow.'
'What do we do now, O'Malley?'
'I wish I knew. No actually I wish Geoffrey would have the decency at least to make a show of being the grieving widower instead of running all over town as if it's business as bloody usual. I also wish I was more than one person so I could follow Dalkeith and his cronies as well as Geoffrey.'
'Well you could follow one car and I could follow the other,' Alex suggested.
Kit gave Alex a puzzled look. 'How come you think it's OK for you to play detective but it's not on for Quinn? No, don't answer that question. Try this one: how are we going to follow two cars when we've only got one car to follow them in?' she asked holding up two fingers on one hand, and one on the other, for emphasis. 'You don't need to answer that one either, Alex.'
'It was just an idea, O'Malley, there's no need to bite my head off.'
'You're right, I'm sorry,' Kit apologised. 'And actually, it's given me a better idea, or at least a possible solution.' She unzipped her pouch, pulled out a business card and started dialling a number.
'Graffico.'
'Hector, this is Kit O'Malley.'
'Hey O'Malley. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Has your PC blown up or something?'
'No, it's not that. I was just wondering if you were serious about helping me out sometime. Like right now would be good. Unless you're too busy, of course.'
'You mean detective stuff?'
'That's just what I mean. Do you have a car?'
'Yeah. Are you serious?' Hector sounded doubtful.
'You'd be doing me an enormous favour and I'd been giving you some pocket money, but only if you can get here in five minutes.'
'No worries. Where's here?'
'Same place as yesterday, only this time I'm sitting in a red Celica on the other side of the road instead of lying flat on my face on the footpath.'
'I'm on my way, I'll be there in three minutes.'
Kit put down her cutlery and gave up trying to be couth. After all, hamburgers were designed to be eaten with the hands, not with a knife and fork. This one was lying open on the plate, surrounded by alfalfa and chunky chips, looking almost as pretentious as the waiter who'd served her. She put the thing together properly, took a mouthful and had to admit that, despite appearances, it was quite delicious. The fact that she was able to eat while on a stakeout, and actually sit at a table to do it, made it taste even better.
Kit glanced out the window at La 'exclusive' Maison, the restaurant on the other side of the narrow street, and wondered how much Alex, Quinn, et al., were paying for their French fries. Geoffrey's presence aside, Kit could understand Quinn's reluctance to be part of what was apparently some kind of social rallying of the troops. She wondered what on earth they would be talking about while, no doubt, consciously trying to avoid the subject of Celia.
The diners at the OHP table included Miles Denning, Greg Fulton and Marjorie Finlay, as well as the managing editor Christine Johnson and the financial controller Bill Harris. Kit couldn't see Geoffrey, Douglas or Miles at all, but she had a clear view of everyone else, especially Alex and Quinn who had taken the window seats.
Quinn's idea of dressing the part had been to squeeze herself into a tight and very short black dress. She didn't look half bad but Alex, dressed in tailored grey trousers and a black silk shirt, looked positively ravishing.
Kit knew it was the memory of seeing Alex in just the shirt, a sight which had quite literally taken her breath away, that made the view she now had so appealing but she was, nonetheless, relieved to be sitting in a completely different restaurant. Apart from the fact that, in khaki army pants and a black T-shirt, she would have been just a trifle underdressed for La Maison, she also knew she couldn't have coped with being at the same table as Alex right now. Or possibly ever again!
She dragged her attention back to her hamburger and tried to force her thoughts to change track by wondering how Hector was coping on his first surveillance job. He had turned up, as he said he would, three minutes after Kit had called him. While he was getting acquainted with Alex, Kit had slipped into the milk bar up the street to get him a couple of cans of drink and a sandwich. Half an hour later he'd got back into his own car, to follow Dalkeith and his passengers up Fitzroy Street towards the junction, with strict instructions from Kit to do nothing but follow them. Kit and Alex had then tailed Geoffrey to his favourite house in St Kilda, where he'd stayed for an hour before going home.
It was then that Alex had decided that, in order for them to get back to Quinn as soon as possible, it would be more sensible for her to shower and change at Kit's place as well. So she'd driven to her apartment and dashed inside to pick up two changes of clothes, which was how Kit had come to see her half-dressed.
Alex had emerged from the spare room, the silk shirt half-buttoned and her wet hair all over the place, to ask Kit if she had a hair-drier. After Kit had finished choking on the handful of cashews she'd just put in her mouth she'd pointed mutely towards her bedroom and then gone to find Quinn.
'What on earth did you say to Alex this morning?'
'Why?' Quinn had asked, not even trying to hide the wicked tone in her voice.
'Because she's been almost nice to me all day. I don't think I can stand the change.'
Quinn shrugged. 'She just stood there looking all self-righteous and demanded to know what I thought I was doing in your bed. I told her I hadn't given it much thought, but whatever I was doing was none of her damn business.'
'That's it?'
'No. I also told her that if she didn't stop being a right royal pain in the bum and start being civil to you, that I'd not only get a new lawyer but I'd cross her off my Christmas list.' Quinn was grinning something chronic.
'Well, being on your Christmas list must be worth a lot to her because the transformation is remarkable,' Kit had said.
'I wouldn't take her bad mood personally Kit. I don't. She's still all over the place emotionally after her break-up in Perth.'
'But she's getting married next month.'
'Yeah, but,' Quinn had agreed hesitantly, 'the relationship had been a long-term thing and the parting was pretty nasty, especially for Alex. She's still a bit fractious and fragile.'
'Confused more likely,' Kit had commented. 'Here, let me do that,' she'd added, turning Quinn around to get at the zip in the back of her dress.
'What do you mean confused?'
'Well, how does the divine Enzo cope when the two of you are together?'
'Enzo? What do you mean?' Quinn had asked, holding onto Kit's arm for balance while she put her shoes on.
'Oh, come on Quinn. Alex's attraction for you is written all over her face, not to mention expressed very loudly through her body language. Are you telling me he wouldn't notice.'
'Attraction for me?' Quinn had said incredulously and then added, 'Alex, you better get a move on or we'll be late...'
'I beg your pardon?' Kit asked, staring blankly at the waiter.
'Would you like another drink?' he repeated.
'Yes, please, a Coke,' she replied. She glanced over at La Maison, hoping she hadn't missed anything while her thoughts were off with the pixies. Christine Johnson was talking animatedly about something, Quinn was trying hard to appear interested and Alex's chair was empty.
A moment later Quinn cast a casual look in Kit's direction, dropped her right hand down and clenched and unclenched her fist a couple of times. There was no doubt it was signal but Kit had absolutely no idea what Quinn was trying to tell her, until her view of the restaurant was impaired by the red Celica which pulled up right in front of her outside.
'What the hell?' Kit muttered to herself, just as the waiter reappeared with her drink. 'Thanks, I'll take it with me,' she said, throwing twenty dollars on the table to cover the bill. She walked outside and, leaning her arm casually on the roof of the car, bent down to look through the open window.
'What are you doing Alex?'
'Get in, O'Malley! Geoffrey has left already.'
Kit did as she was told. After all, who was she to argue with a fractiously fragile, confused and gorgeous lawyer with an attitude.
Stuff that for a joke! the private detective with her own attitude objected. 'What are you doing Alex?' she repeated, as she fastened her seat belt.
'Trying to catch up with his taxi,' she announced, as she put the car in gear and took off down the street.
'Why? We know where he's going.'
'But it's only nine o'clock and the rendezvous at the warehouse is not till eleven,' Alex said, as if that explained everything.
'So?'
'I just thought... Shit O'Malley, I'm only trying to help. Geoffrey suddenly announced he wasn't feeling well and was going home. Miles, who had driven him to the restaurant, offered to take him but Geoffrey insisted he'd be fine in a taxi. When he got up to make the call I pretended I had to go to the loo, and I listened in on his phone conversation. He ordered a taxi to take him to St Kilda, not Footscray, so I thought maybe you should know. So here I am.'
'I bet Quinn is really pissed off with you.'
'Why?'
'Do as I say Ms Orlando, not as I do. That's hardly a good example to be setting one so young,' said Kit.
'She told me to come and get you,' Alex said defensively.
'But I didn't ask you to come and get me. You could have called me at the cafe. I don't need you tagging along, any more than I need Quinn. I don't want to be worrying about you.'
'You don't need to worry about me O'Malley. I won't get in your way. I'll just be your chauffeur.'
Kit leant her head out the window hoping the cool breeze rushing through her hair would help to calm her down. 'OK James, spare the horses and stop trying to catch that taxi. Take me to Footscray please.'
Women! Kit thought as she scrambled along the fence line and under the ramp that ran from the warehouse's loading bay, over the public bicycle path and down to the small pontoon dock on the river.
Damn her, she even had a change of clothes in the car. Face it O'Malley, you're in desperate need of an assertiveness training course in how to get the desired reaction when you say no, n - o, absolutely not, no way José.
Kit clambered up onto a boulder and grabbed hold of the fence to pull herself up level with the top landing of the ramp. The gate, which provided the only lawful access to Dalkeith's warehouse from the side facing the river, was chained, padlocked and wearing a big sign aimed at discouraging trespassers. Kit would just have to risk prosecution and find an unlawful access point.
She climbed down again and continued along the bicycle path until she could see down the south flank of the building. Unlike the other side, there were no cars, no lights showing from inside and no way she could be seen trying to break in by anyone approaching through the front or back gates. Best of all, there was actually a door that she could try breaking in through.
She headed back to the huge Callistemon bush where she'd left Alex sitting on a chunk of bluestone, out of sight of both the dock at the back of Dalkeith's warehouse and the parking area on the south side. There were still only the two vehicles parked there: a brown ute, and a blue Torana - minus its homicidal driver.
'Any activity?' she asked sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of Alex.
'That guard or whatever he is came out, smoked a cigarette and went back inside. What took you so long?'
'Hey Alex, these things take as long as they take. You could go back to the car if you're bored.'
'No way. I'd hate to think you were worrying about me walking back through that reserve. In the dark. All on my own.'
'Follow me then.' Kit led Alex back along the bike path, then over the rocks underneath the ramp to the point where the new wire fence met the top landing's main support beams. Pulling a pair of cutters from the leg-pocket of her army pants, she snipped a three-foot section of wire, bent it back and crawled through into the space under the loading dock on the other side. There was plenty of room to stand up.
Alex followed her through but then grabbed her arm and pulled her close. 'You do realise this is breaking and entering, O'Malley,' she whispered.
'I know that Alex,' Kit replied quietly. 'and this is just the start. We still have to get inside. Now do me a favour and shut up, or go back to the car.' Kit pulled the wire back into place, then headed for the far side of the loading dock, which was barricaded by loose sheets of rusty corrugated iron. She moved one piece quietly out of the way and stuck her head out to check if the coast was clear. A minute later, with Alex right behind her, she started working on the lock of the side door.
This is crazy, Kit thought, turning to face her semi-willing accomplice, who was standing much too close for comfort. Fighting a sudden and almost overwhelming urge to grab Alex by the shoulders, push her up against the wall and kiss her on the mouth until she begged for mercy, Kit managed to whisper 'Make yourself useful Alex. Go and stand near the front corner of the building and play lookout.'
Kit took a deep breath to steady her nerves, her hands and her hormones and returned to the task at hand. It was an easy lock to pick, now she wasn't being completely distracted. She opened the door a crack. There was nothing to see and she couldn't hear a sound. She snapped her fingers to get Alex's attention.
'Dalkeith's car and another one just came in the front gate,' Alex said softly before they stepped into the dark interior.
'Looks like we got in just in time,' Kit whispered, closing the door behind them.
Kit waited till her eyes got accustomed to the lack of light before moving forward. They had entered what appeared to be a lunch room, with a long table in the centre and a sink and cupboards on one wall. Kit crossed to the open doorway and looked carefully out into a dim and deserted hallway intersected at regular intervals by doors, some open and some closed. The hall extended a good thirty feet to her right, before coming to a dead end, and about twenty feet to her left where a faint pool of light indicated another passage leading into the building's interior.
'Stay here,' Kit murmured to Alex before creeping towards the light at the far end. She cast a quick glance around the corner to make sure there were no guards or other surprises and then took a good look. The hall and its low ceiling continued for about fifteen feet before opening out into the warehouse proper, although a row of metal shipping containers at the end formed a wall on the right hand side. Opposite the containers, at the rear of the warehouse, was a ramp leading up to a large concrete platform, at the back of which was a huge door that obviously provided access to the loading bay and the dock on the river.
The light was coming from a fluorescent tube set high in the roof over an iron staircase on the far side of the building. The stairs led up to a glass-walled office and from where she stood Kit could just make out Dalkeith, Grainger, Davis Whitten and - surprise, surprise - a red-headed woman. She could also hear voices, but they weren't coming from the office.
The sliding door to the loading bay on the car park side of the warehouse was partially open. The guard they had seen earlier was leaning in the doorway, looking out, and smoking another cigarette.
Kit motioned for Alex to follow her just as far as the corner, then she made a quiet dash for the gap between the first and second containers on the right. She found herself at the head of an aisle which ran the length of the building. Formed by stacks of huge, old wooden packing crates, it was about five feet wide and a good sixty feet long.
Kit moved carefully down the aisle to where she could see a gap on the left hand side and peered around the corner. It was another aisle, only much narrower, and it ran between the stacks for about forty feet. She made her way along that to the next aisle that crossed it at right angles. She realised that about two-thirds of the warehouse was filled with crates arranged in a grid that allowed easy access though, judging by the amount of dust on the floor, no-one had accessed them in a long time.
She started to moved forward again, in the general direction of the muffled voices, but a slight noise somewhere behind her made her stop dead in her tracks. She squeezed into the gap between the next two stacks, crouched down and made like she wasn't there. A couple of seconds later she rolled her eyes and clenched her fists in frustration as she saw Alex creep by, one row back.
Kit ducked out, scooted two stacks along and one aisle over. Reaching out, she grabbed Alex from behind and pulled her back between the crates. Every muscle in Alex's body had gone rigid with fright. Kit spun her around in the confined space, and then clamped her hand over the mouth that looked like it was about to forget where it was and utter something very loud and indignant. Alex's expression was like thunder but she made no attempt to move away. Not that there was anywhere to go.
Oh my god, she even smells good, Kit thought, wishing she was anywhere but almost in this woman's arms. She glared at Alex to let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she deserved to have the living daylights scared out of her. When she felt Alex relax, and at such close quarters it was a sensation she couldn't help feeling, she removed her hand. The several deep breaths that Alex took to calm herself down had quite the opposite effect on Kit, as did the embarrassed smile that Alex flashed before mouthing the word 'sorry'.
Kit closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. When she looked back Alex was still smiling. Kit couldn't help herself: she reached out and placed her thumb and index finger on either side of Alex's mouth to indicate that a more serious attitude was appropriate to the circumstances. Alex flinched slightly at her touch, so Kit gave a resigned shrug and a follow-me hand signal, then turned abruptly and headed back the way she'd come.
She stopped every few yards to pinpoint where the voices were coming from, check the corners before crossing between rows of crates, and make sure Alex was still behind her. The light was getting brighter the closer they got to the centre of the warehouse which made it easier to see but also easier to be seen.
Kit pulled up abruptly when she realised that they were not only about to run out of aisles but that the owners of the voices were right round the next corner. She turned on her heels and crashed straight into Alex, who grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from falling over and then dragged her back into the narrow aisle they'd just left.