I tried sorting out my mind. I'd have to go back to the beginning, to the original crime. From there I'd have to tease out who and maybe what.
`I think I need to see if the same people are around.' I said. `To see what they're doing and maybe I can find out what's changed. What they're doing now and why.'
He nodded. `That's a fair strategy providing you steer clear of—well. And let me know if there's anything I can help you with.'
I stared at him again. `Anything, sir, would be useful.'
`How old were you again…back then, I mean?'
`Nineteen and my sister begged me to stay well away from the entire thing. So I did.'
`Wise man. Anyway, I'll see what I can do. Obviously your brother-in-law had to produce evidence that crimes had been committed. Without that the situation it couldn't have gone as far as it did. Without it now, there isn't much we can do. But I will ask. I'm sorry about what happened today. It won't happen again.'
`I hope not Mr Powers. The media gets really upset when journalists are targeted. You might check with Witness Protection protocols too.'
`Oh?'
`They asked where my sister was. As far as I know Ken O'Hara did not know what Maggie's brother's name was. She certainly hadn't told him.'
`And you're suggesting—'
`That they already knew who Ken's wife, Lizzie, really was. Or very quickly realised it after Ken's visit here.'
`I'm not directly involved in that sort of thing but I will make enquiries.'
He stood. An erect, discreetly powerful man. Maybe his people wouldn't have had a go at me but somebody did. Powerful yes, but not universally so.
The people behind this were influential enough to override the norms of law and order and had extensive protections around them. A team prepared to kill.
I checked my watch. I no longer had time to talk to Molly Agar but I would give someone a list of questions and send them to interview her. I'd get my information one way or another. I did have time before my flight to check out the private aircraft part of Canberra International. See if anyone recognised a picture of Jon Agar.
At the airport I drove over to general aviation and parked. There were rows of small aircraft under tarpaulins that were tethered to the ground with ropes. I roamed up to a lone mechanic with his head buried behind an engine cover of a very small one. I noticed how easy it would be to do something to a plane around there. Particularly if you were expected to be there. Like in overalls, or were a well-known pilot.
I tapped his shoulder and he straightened up cracking his head on the engine cover.
`Sorry mate,' I said. `Didn't mean to startle you. I wonder if you can help me out?'
The bloke wiped his greasy hands on an equally greasy rag. `Dunno. What do you want?'
`I'm waiting for someone and it's my first time in one of these tiny planes. And after that accident you had here…I mean, how dangerous are they?'
He looked me up and down as if I'd farted in a lift. Even Trent was less scathing than this bloke. `Safe as a house, mate. Pilot error. Only thing it could have been. These never crash. Built not to.'
`Was that one the same as this?'
`Yep. Cessna 182. Lovely little machine. And the O'Haras really looked after theirs. I know, see.'
`You knew the pilot? It must have been terrible for you.'
`Yeah.' He wiped the rag across his face leaving a dark streak. `Last person you'd expect…not like some.' He looked into the distance and I spotted Jon Agar walking towards a similar aircraft parked several planes down. He jumped in and almost immediately the engine started up and he taxied away.
`Stupid bastard,' muttered the mechanic.
`Oh? What did he do?'
`What the sod didn't do is the point. Before you fly you're supposed to do your checks. You know, leading edges, oil, control surfaces, all that stuff. That stupid prick hardly ever does them. He's the one should have gone in, not Ken.'
`Who is he?'
`Jon Agar. Lazy prick. We all try to make sure his aircraft is kept ready. Not for his sake, but we can't let him crash and we never know when he's going to take the thing out.'
`But it's his plane isn't it? He can take it whenever he likes.'
`No it's not,' the mechanic snorted. `It belongs to Roddy Grant. I'm not even sure the old man even knows this bugger's taking it.'
`Was he around last Friday?'
The man stared after the departing aircraft, malice in his face. `Yeah, he was. Taking old Rod and his missus back to Ivanhoe, wasn't he? But he was here early and instead of doing his checks he just hung about. Got us all really mad at the bastard. Poking about other around people's planes too.'
`Really? How poking about?'
`Oh you know, looking in the windows and that.'
`Did he touch any of them?'
`I didn't see him do that but I've got better stuff to do than watch stupid bloody Jon Agar.’
`You didn't happen to see anyone near Ken's plane then? Anyone you didn't know?'
`No. Wait. The bloke refuelling it was—nah, I didn't see him close up so it was probably one of the normal blokes. It's always busy around lunchtime, Fridays. Anyway, you feeling better about flying in one of these? Volkswagens of the sky, I call them. Just as simple. Not much to go wrong.'
Except something did. Catastrophically.
I drove back to the hire car drop and fielded a call on the way. It was Anna. Her voice was a squeak.
`Harry? Where are you?'
She knew where I was. `Why?'
`The police are here. They're—asking for you.'
A hostage call. `I'll be home soon. Is Trent around?'
I didn't know if the phone was on speaker so I had to get through to her that these might not be legitimate police.
`No, he's not.'
`You were going to school him. Did you?'
Her voice dropped and I could feel the relief. `Yes, I did.' There was a pause. `When will you be here, Harry? I'm getting Coq au Vin ready for dinner.' I almost laughed. Anna had never cooked Coq au Vin in her life. The `cops' had forced her to focus.
`Ah yes, I can't wait. Has Trent got the tools he needs?'
`Yes he has but he doesn't know—'
There was some yelling followed by an enormous explosion. Then silence. It was short lived. There was a lot of shouting, then another two explosions. The noise faded. In the distance a car engine started, revving high. Another more distant explosion and silence.
I was pacing up and down and almost missed my flight call before Anna came back on the line. She was panting, whether from exertion or fright I couldn't tell.
`It's all right, they're gone.' I started to speak but got cut off. `They had realistic ID but they weren't the real police were they?'
`I don't know. What happened?'
She got as far as telling me that Trent had arrived with the gun she'd been teaching him how to use all morning before I had to shut down my phone. Once in the air I called again and Anna picked up immediately.
`Talk later. Getting the animals up to the house. It's okay. Nobody got killed or even injured.' She hung up.
I spent the rest of the flight making lists. Facts gathered. Facts suspected. So far I hadn't been able to delete any of the three politicians but I had a definite suspect for Ken's plane crash. Powers though, was off the hook and had become an ally. Whether he'd be able to find out who had abducted me, or would tell me if he did, I didn't know. He'd promised me help if I needed it and I almost certainly would. Overall, apart from bruises, the trip to Canberra had paid off.
Whoever else was involved I now knew that current politicians were. And that someone was terrified of what Maggie might know. My `to do' list was not very long.
1. Find out more about Jon Agar - history and all his connections.
2. Organise interview with his mother. (For Amy- write list of questions)
3. Check out what Roddy Grant and Curtis Tennent rowed about.
4. Ask Rocco what/who he knew about thirteen years ago and who was talking to politicians now.
5. More about senior Federal cops. Histories, promotions - when etc.
6. See if men who kidnapped me left fingerprints on my phone. (Hopeless)
7. See if the ones who'd bailed Anna up had done ditto. (maybe)
8. Go up to Wallan and look at all the family pictures - anything left over from Evan- push Maggie harder.
9. Info from Ron Graham.
At the bottom I wrote, stay alive.
Underneath that I wrote, - look up any particularly ambitious politicians who are relatively recent? Richmond. (Ask Amy)-
The information about me that Ken mentioned could have been passed to anyone. But it could also be narrowed down to Jon Agar or someone he knew. A cocky young arsehole, he might be reckless and stupid enough to lose control and overreact.
I called Anna again after I landed in Melbourne. The muster was complete but she and Trent were setting up booby traps for unwelcome visitors. The fake cops probably weren't fake, I told her, just unauthorised.
`I guessed. Their ID papers looked real but their attitude was totally off the wall.' I grinned at her outrage. `They kept telling me to turn you over. I had no idea what they were talking about. How dare they demand answers without telling me why. And threatening me with being arrested unless I called you. When I asked they told me that I would be charged with obstructing justice and put away. I mean really. And they had their guns in their hands all the time they were there. It was only chance that Trent saw that one was holding a gun on me as the other was almost forcing the phone down my throat.'
That chance observation through the sitting room window was enough for Trent. He got the rifle out of the barn where they'd left it after his training session and came back to the house. Luckily he'd crept through the back door to bail them up.
`The look on their faces when he came through the door with a rifle pointing straight at them was priceless.' Anna laughed
One of the fake coppers had dropped his gun by the time Trent fired. Accidentally. Anna took the gun and fired again. Not accidentally. They bolted, with her following up with the rifle.
`I followed them out firing over their heads as they left. At high speed, damn them.' I grinned again. She was upset because they'd spun the gravel.
`Have you still got the cop’s gun?'
`Of course. I wasn't about to invite them back.'
`Wrap it up and lock it in the gun cabinet. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Hang in there.'
She laughed. `When do I do anything else? Oh and we're not having coq au vin for tea.'
`Damn. I was really looking forward to that.'
She hung up with a snort. But I was scared. Up till now we'd only had to fight bad guys. Now that the bad guys looked like good guys I turned to the only cop I could trust. The bloke I'd dealt with during the Serbian fiasco last winter. Not that I knew whether he trusted me even though I'd solved his case for him.