Next morning I had some relationship building to do. I was out almost before Anna stirred at dawn and pulled the little Honda out onto the gravel. I started it up. It wasn't as noisy as the one I'd had but it wasn't all that quiet either.
Both Anna and Trent appeared in front of me as I revved it up and took off around our parking area with a grin stretched across my face. Memories came flooding back from my days as a cadet at the country newspaper where I began my career.
After I was reeling from Evan's death and the loss of Maggie and the little girls, the editor Beverley, the work and the motorbike held me together. As I spun around on the gravel memories of country roads and bush trails on the bike with my mates brought some of that happiness back.
Trent looked on for a few minutes then loped off. I chased him on the bike and skidded to a stop in front of him. We eyed each other off for a few seconds then he sneered and walked on.
I hopped off the bike, took off the helmet and handed it to him. For the first time since I'd known him he looked uncertain. Younger somehow. It was brief.
`What?' he snarled.
`Yours. If you want it.'
`What do I want with a fuckin' helmet?'
`Goes with the bike.'
He stared at me as Anna walked up. `The bike's yours. While you're here at least. We need an extra set of wheels. Harry thought these might suit you.'
He looked at the ground and muttered, `Dunno know how to ride it.'
`You can learn, can't you?' I said.
He didn't answer. I handed him the helmet. Kindness was something Trent had never known. It was like Anna and love. A foreign language, incomprehensible. It took time. Hopefully this was a beginning. The memories of seconds earlier also brought back the rage I'd felt after Evan died. All I'd wanted was revenge. Instead I got a motherly mentor who tamed the anger and taught me to be not just a professional journalist but a man.
I was only a couple of years older than Trent was now and I'd had a background of love and security so my path was smoother. But right now I had a lever. I wanted something. So in Trent's transactional world where everything had to be paid for, maybe we could do a deal.
I walked towards the bike leaving him to follow with the helmet. When he put it on I gestured for him to get on the bike. He flung a look at Anna who shrugged. It was exactly the right signal. Seeming to care too much would likely have made him assert his independence and refuse to do it.
After that it was just a matter of showing him the technical stuff. How to start the engine, change gears and so on. When he'd gone through all that a few times I pointed at the nearest paddock and told him to start riding. I walked into the house. I knew the grass would stop him damaging himself too badly. Beverley had watched over me and I'd accepted that. Trent would not.
Once inside the house I wrote out a list of rules and regulations for the bike's use including the legal regulations. I wrote that any breach would mean confiscation.I could hear the rise and fall of the bike's engine indicating some falls and stalls. Later I walked out to the paddock and handed the list to Anna. She nodded and smiled.
`I've never seen him concentrate so hard. He's really putting in the time to get it right. Great move. Anything else?'
`Yes, Two things. First can you teach him how to use a gun?'
`What? You're kidding me!'
`I didn't say give him one. Just teach him enough not to kill himself or anyone else by accident if he needs to use it.'
She gave me a baleful look. `All right what's the other one?'
`I'm going to Canberra tomorrow. Only for the day. I have to ask some questions.'
`But didn't you want to keep your interest a secret?'
`Can't do it, so won't. I'll make it so that it will be very hard to…damage me. I'm quite famous now so they might think twice.'
I told her I had the Grahams safe and how that might worry them. Particularly if what they knew might trigger an investigation in the media. I didn't think my network would do anything on short notice but I knew which one might. My throwing out hints of exposure might make someone a bit reckless as well.
She wasn't happy about that but understood that we'd had to take it to our enemies twice or they'd have run us over. That's why we were still alive. She kissed me and headed out to work. That included teaching Trent how to shoot.
`I won't tell his case worker about that though,' she said laughing.
I settled back in front of my computer. In all the dozens of possible contacts Ken O'Hara had that day who was the most likely. Until then I felt as if I was trying to find one person out of hundreds. Then I recalled that it was Maggie's deliveries that were relevant that day, not Ken's.
I instantly called her. I needed to find out what the Graham's had come up with anyway, so two birds…
It was an inspired call. Ken, standing in for Maggie, was to deliver five packs of documents. Three to politicians, Matt Oldham, Keith Fanchett and Roddy Grant.
`Only Matt's document was urgent. Most of what I'd planned was delivering routine documents to the others. It really was more of a joy flight than anything else. Why?'
I heard the sob in her voice but pushed on. `I'm going up there tomorrow and I want to pay them a visit.'
`Are you sure? Won't that alert them that you're looking and—Harry, please don't. I couldn't bear it if anything—'
`I have to, Mags. I can't wait for them to come to me, or you. They're already on the back foot. Killing people who didn't need to die means they're rattled and rattled people make mistakes.'
They are also more dangerous but I didn't say that to her.
She sighed and told me about her two other clients. A senior public servant and the owner of the Patriot Bar and Grill.
For public servant I immediately thought, law enforcement, secret service, ASIO. Police. She didn't know but his office was in the Ben Chifley building. So was ASIO, the intelligence service. Was he a spy? Ken had never said anything. It was a name to pursue though. Reginald Powers. I checked him online. Still mysterious, naturally.
Ken might have spoken to almost anyone else but that gave me a manageable base to work from. Matt Oldham hadn't been in politics long enough to have been a force at the time Evan was killed. But Keith Fanchett had. The word was he'd planned to be Prime Minister. At fifty-seven he may have missed that boat, but he was still a powerful man. With a reputation to protect and the capability to order a plane to crash.
Since the House of the People no longer welcomed the people I got Amy to get a press pass for parliament house. There were no issues with that as her immediate boss was also an old friend. She promised me a who's who of the staffers of my three, and a map of the inner workings of the building.
I also asked her about Jack Richmond. The man with nothing behind his eyes and got a succinct resume. - Ruthless, charming go-getter - powerful friends -
Interesting but not connected to Ken. I was set. I swallowed. I'd asked her to be very discreet so hopefully no one was forewarned. Apart from Amy's pending details everything was in place. I'd finished my list of where these people could be found and when I would find them.
By then it was late afternoon. I got up, stretched and yawned, then booked a seat on the eight thirty flight next morning. Next I sat down to write an email to my old mate, Jerry Carney. Jerry hailed from the more spectacular end of news reporting so I listed those things that I knew would bring joy to his grasping soul. Like the murder of cops, crashed aircraft and political corruption.
My next task before I went was to get a detailed profile on the cops who had a spectacular rise in the police force since their days on the beat in 2006. I called a police reporter I knew who worked for Fairfax. He was anti nearly everything, especially organisations that leaned to the right, like the police. If it was worth finding, Larry Dormann would find it.
My day in the nation's capital tomorrow might winkle out who Ken had lunched with and whose offices he'd visited. That might or might not give me a clue who had ordered an innocent man to be sent to a fiery death simply because he described someone he'd never even heard of much less met. I also intended to see who at Canberra airport had made that possible.
I looked out the window. In the late summer when the paddocks were bleached yellow brown, the green hills of the National Forest on three sides created a contrast. Near the tree line a small mob of kangaroos grazed close to the llamas. It was peaceful and timeless, so far from the man-made terror that stalked us that it was hard to believe that was real.
The sylvan scene was shattered when Anna appeared over the crest of a hill on her UTV followed by the two horses and Trent on the Honda. I laughed. He'd mastered it in a day. As they got closer I could see his face split in a grin like I hadn't seen before. He looked…happy as they disappeared into the long shadows behind the trees.
I wandered out to stretch my legs and bask in the warmth and peace of the late summer's day. In the distance the llamas and Lara turned towards the farm buildings. The motors of the UTV and the motorbike stopped and the only sounds were disembodied human voices, a whinny or two and the approaching clucking of the llamas. But “When sorrows come, they come not single spies. But in battalions!”
I was up very early, easily beating Anna to meet the day. I stood looking down at her and was almost overwhelmed with love. It was all I could do not to crawl back into bed and let the horror go hang. Instead I kissed her forehead and crept out of the room.
It's a nearly three-hour drive to the airport and I only made it by twenty minutes. As soon as we were allowed I turned on my computer and rehearsed my moves. I'd start with Fanchett, the cabinet minister. The man wouldn't be there but staffers would. They were the least likely to suspect sinister machinations and would have no suspicions about someone asking who met their boss a week before. They might not know either but I'd take that chance.
After that I'd visit old Roddy Grant's Office. Then off to Matt Oldham's. I wasn't sure if he'd remember me but a good politician never forgets anyone who might be useful. Matt Oldham was a very good politician.