The next day, Cavalier arranged a meeting with Tommy Gregory—or the Wombat, as he was nicknamed, because of his short, muscular build and terrible bifocals. Gregory, known in his illustrious SAS service as the ‘Combat Wombat,’ had first met Cavalier at Albany when he failed to qualify to join the select group of commandos. Gregory was now semi-retired. He worked on an assignment basis, and split his time between his home base, Mandurah, south of Perth, and Melbourne, where he stayed at a discreet, up-market boutique hotel—the Lindrum—on Flinders Street. He was the Federal Police’s best investigator and, in his own words, a ‘lateral-thinking pragmatist, with a suspicious mind’. Never taking anything at face value, he was a good listener, who made his own ‘call’ on everything and everyone. He had educated himself enough to keep up with the new breed of young feds, with what he thought of as their over-qualification in languages and technology.
To make a point about investigators needing to be insightful about people, he had fought the bureaucracy and won an internal battle to hire a ninety-two-year-old former spy for ASIO and MI6. Her name was Pollyanna MacGregor—though everyone knew her as Polly—and she had spent half her life in England, and half in Australia, after having been recruited by ASIO chief Sir Charles Spry in 1968. Her hobby was cat breeding. She was a world expert and long-time breeder, who turned up at feline shows from Moscow to Melbourne, which afforded a wonderful cover. Despite her harmless, grandmotherly appearance, she was the most incisive, professional and thorough spy Gregory had ever met, and sharper than any thirty-year-old. While she was paranoia-free, she considered everyone a potential traitor or miscreant until proven otherwise.
Polly had been appalled by the slack ASIO operations when she first arrived in Australia, and her sleuthing had seen too much of the easy Soviet espionage. Now, Russia’s president, Vladimir Putin, had stepped up his nation’s military activity in the Pacific, and also spying in Australia, in what was almost a return to the Cold War days. Staff at ASIO had multiplied to more than two thousand agents to combat Muslim extremism and terrorism over the last decade. The agency was forced again to hire Russian experts and linguists. The Federal Police had followed suit. Polly was one of four specialists hired to concentrate on Russia’s increased espionage activity in the region.
Gregory had quickly come to rely on her for assessments outside her expertise in Russian spying, and invited her to his meeting with Cavalier. He wanted her up to speed on the Labasta killing and the growing drug problem.
Before Cavalier arrived, Polly sat with Gregory in the so-called Moroccan lounge behind the reception area. She was curious to know about his association with Cavalier, whom she had not met, and he filled her in on Cavalier’s attempt to join the SAS. He continued: ‘He joined a newspaper, and his work as a journalist has given him excellent cover; even more flexible than yours. I’ve really envied his access to places like Moscow and Damascus, which I still wouldn’t be able to visit.’
Polly said, nodding, ‘Cat shows are not in all enemy territories. Certainly not in the Middle East.’
‘Exactly. But Cavalier can reach just about anywhere officially as a journalist. And he’s very clever at moving across borders illegally.’
‘Have you used him on special assignments?’
‘ASIS and ASIO have more than we have. But “used” isn’t a term I’d apply to Vic Cavalier. He’s very independent. He goes on official writing assignments, we hear about it and sometimes offer him “missions”.’
‘Did he work with the CIA?’
‘You mean when our people acted as proxies, doing extra dirty work for them? Not as far as I know; I do know that he knocked back two rather tricky assignments. He has nothing against Americans. He admires the Seals and knows a couple of their commanders personally. But, you see, our boy has a real conscience. It doesn’t always fit with American, or even our own, national goals.’
‘Someone with a moral code,’ Polly said, with a trace of cynicism. ‘How quaint! Is he on our payroll?’
‘No. He’s been offered paid work by us, ASIO, ASIS, MI6, CIA, DGSE. The CIA offered him inducements that most would find impossible to refuse. But he says taking payment would compromise his journalism and anything else he was doing. So, he’s kept his “freedom” to write what he wants, which, of course, has its own limitations and risks.’
‘Is he open to debriefing?’
‘He needs us and the others for information. In exchange, he’s open to being quizzed after an operation, but he’s not bound to tell us everything. In fact, I never know exactly what he’s up to or how he operates but it’s fine by me. His work’s very effective.’
‘Trivia question,’ Cavalier said to Gregory and Polly. ‘Who was the first player ever to beat Walter Lindrum—after whom this hotel is named—in a match after he became world billiards champion?’
They looked blank as he sat down.
‘Donald George Bradman in 1935, in his Adelaide home. Lindrum beat him in 1934. According to Lady Bradman, The Don practised every day for a year and then challenged Lindrum, and won.’
‘You okay, Vic?’ Gregory asked, staring at him. ‘You been on the turps?’
Cavalier ignored the remark. They began discussing Jacinta’s heroics.
‘Thai special police are all trained in Muay Thai, or a variety thereof,’ Polly remarked. ‘But, from your description, she must be brilliant.’
‘I was a mere spectator to her fighting ability,’ Cavalier said. He paused reflectively. ‘There was something pathological about her force.’
‘Meaning?’ Polly asked.
‘She could have killed all of them but restrained herself.’
‘That doesn’t make her “pathological”.’
‘Maybe not. I just had a feeling that she wanted to finish them off. And she could’ve, so easily.’
‘There must be something more in her background,’ Gregory said. ‘The Thais have an elite force like our SAS. I’d put money on her having been in it before she joined the police’s special investigation unit. She’s a bloody good hacker. Keeps to herself.’ He glanced at Polly, almost for approval, before he added, ‘What a stunner! Every bloke in the office has had a crack at chatting her up. Lovely Jacinta has dented a few egos, I can tell you. She just closes off.’
‘Almost like someone with Asperger’s,’ Polly remarked.
‘She sticks to what she’s here for,’ Gregory shrugged.
‘And that is?’ Cavalier asked.
‘She’s piecing together how drugs are moving from nation to nation in the region,’ Gregory said. ‘It’s been approved by our chiefs and hers. It has top intergovernmental sanction between us and the Thais. That’s why we’re cooperating with her, as much as she’ll let us.’
‘Don’t forget people trafficking—prostitution. The main crime bosses seem to be moving in to control that too,’ Polly reminded Gregory. ‘She’s looking into that also.’ She turned to Cavalier. ‘She’s asking a lot of questions about you. Of course, she’ll hack your computer.’
‘I don’t put anything incriminating on my phone or iPad,’ Cavalier said with a half-smile. Seeing their surprise, he added: ‘Not that there’s anything incriminating to put on them! I keep a handwritten diary. Always have. An aide-memoire.’
‘That’s old school,’ Polly said interestedly, ‘but useful and smart in this instance. Is it a complete diary? Can you afford to bare all?’
‘I always think of Tolstoy’s wife reading his diaries and how it caused blazing rows between them,’ he answered. ‘He accused her of betrayal for probing into his private writing; she accused him of betrayal in the things he wrote!’
‘Makes you cautious?’
‘I once had a partner who read my early diaries and acted like Mrs Tolstoy.’ Cavalier sipped his mineral water. ‘Why do you think Jacinta would bother investigating me, a common reporter?’
‘She’s looked at the file of your articles over the past thirty-five years,’ Polly replied. ‘It seemed to fascinate her.’
Cavalier shrugged. ‘A lot of it’s routine crime reporting and earlier, on sport. Perhaps she’s a cricket fan.’
‘You have expertise on the cartels,’ Gregory commented. ‘She’s interested in that.’
‘She’ll be looking for patterns in your work,’ Polly said with a cunning grin. ‘I do it in all our investigations. See what the person in question puts on paper.’
‘Jacinta’s particularly fascinated by that series of articles you wrote when you were on assignment in Mexico; what, six years ago?’ Gregory said. ‘When your daughter disappeared.’
Cavalier nodded. A blink betrayed a hint of emotion.
‘You should keep in contact with her, if you can,’ Polly said. ‘You’ll learn much, I’m sure. She knows a lot more than she’s letting us know.’
‘Keep your enemies close,’ Gregory said, ‘and please let us know what you glean from her.’
‘Why don’t you ask her out?’ Polly said with a smile. ‘I bet she accepts any reasonable offer from you, Vic. As we said, she’s stand-offish, but you’re someone she’s focusing on. At least let her know what motivated you to write those pieces,’ she suggested. ‘That may put her on side. Then you’ll learn more. You must live up to your name, Monsieur Cavalier!’
‘Never have,’ he replied.