Narelle had a better gift for subterfuge than Grace had expected. Perhaps it excited her. Dressed in a dark blue, mass market tracksuit with the hood up, she appeared anonymously from the entrance to the mall and slipped into the passenger seat beside Grace.
‘Leave your hood up,’ Grace said, and pulled away quickly.
Narelle fastened her seatbelt. She was carrying a small leather bag. She took a packet of cigarettes out of it and lit one.
‘Put that out!’
Narelle ignored her, an expression of untroubled bliss on her face as she stared straight ahead. Grace brought the car to a halt, reached over, snatched the cigarette out of her mouth and threw it away.
‘Keep smoking and you can get out and walk! Do you understand that?’
With a sudden violence, Narelle opened the door and threw her cigarettes out, then slammed the door shut again, hard and angrily. Grace restarted the car and drove on.
‘What did you tell your parents about what you were doing?’ she asked.
Narelle didn’t reply. She was sulking.
‘You have to answer my question, Narelle. I need to know what you’ve told your parents.’
Narelle shrugged and curled up in her seat, staring out of the window.
‘A question you really have to answer. Did you bring your ID with you?’
‘It’s in the bag.’
‘What about your phone?’
‘I left it behind! Like you wanted. I brought my iPod.’
‘Fine.’ At least they wouldn’t have to talk to each other.
They drove in silence. Grace took them out onto the feeder roads heading north across the western part of Sydney. She was under a communications blackout but every word spoken in the car was being listened to. The phone was for emergency use only. After a while, Narelle pushed her hood back and shook out her glossy black hair. She had made up her face, again replicating the look of Gong Li. Grace wondered if she’d put on special underwear before she’d dressed herself in her tracksuit. She thought about asking her to put her hood back up and decided not to bother.
‘When are we going to get there?’ Narelle asked.
‘I’m aiming for six. That’s when they’re expecting us.’
‘Can’t you go faster than that?’
‘Not if we don’t want to attract attention,’ Grace said. ‘Now tell me. What did you tell your parents?’
‘I just told Dad I was going shopping.’
‘What about your mother?’
‘I didn’t talk to her. She’s been horrible to me lately.’
Goodbye, Mum and Dad. Lucky what’s supposed to happen to you isn’t going to. She glanced quickly at Narelle who was staring ahead with a dreamy look in her eyes. Are you really that naïve? Or am I the one who’s been blinded?
‘Did it bother you, what you were doing to Jirawan?’ she asked. ‘Sending her down to get raped every day. Or did you get a kick out of it?’
‘What are you talking about? It was just something she had to do. I didn’t know that was her name. What are you talking about her for? She’s dead. I can’t do anything.’
Grace said nothing.
‘If she’d just done what she was told, she’d have been all right,’ Narelle said angrily after a short silence. ‘Elliot said she owed him money. It was her own fault she was there.’
‘You think it’s as straightforward as that, do you?’ Grace asked.
‘She had to pay her debt. It was his money. He was really upset about it. She owed him.’
‘For what?’
‘He looked after her husband’s business for them and they wouldn’t pay him for it. It was a lot of money.’
Protection money. Give and you just keep giving. Like Kidd.
‘Who do you think killed her?’
‘I don’t know! Why should I?’
‘What about Lynette?’
‘None of that’s got anything to do with me. They did the wrong thing by Elliot. I never have and I never will. He knows that.’
‘Every time you look into those amazing blue eyes, you melt, do you, Narelle?’ Grace said. She remembered Griffin staring at her yesterday in Lane Cove National Park. Blue eyes whose only effect on her had been to chill her through and through. Narelle looked at her sideways with a smile.
‘You don’t know what’s between us, what we feel for each other. It’s so real. What do you know about that?’
‘What about the guy who helped you guard Jirawan? Did you like having him around?’
‘He stank! I don’t think he ever washed. I said I could take care of her, she was only little. But Elliot said I needed him.’
‘Including the night you took her down to Jon Kidd’s car and put her in the boot.’
‘That nasty little man? Elliot said he was weak.’
‘Did you know where Jirawan was going?’ Grace asked.
‘No. I don’t know if he did. He was weird. He said all these weird things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Nasty things, like he was probably taking her to hell. Why say something stupid like that? And if that’s what he thought, why did he do it? It’s got nothing to do with me. I don’t want to talk about it any more.’
She took her iPod out of her bag and put on her earphones. Soon she was in her own world, bopping away to her chosen music.
I let Jirawan go with her train fare. Given what Kidd had known about the people he was dealing with, he’d been brave at least once in his life. Twice when you counted Parramatta Park. Narelle was the last of the witnesses. Griffin had no ties; he could, with the right passport, leave any time he wanted. There were any number of ways to leave the country without going near an airport. He wasn’t taking Narelle with him. Presumably he was taking Sara, if only because she’d always been there.
They drove on in silence until Grace reached the Sydney–Newcastle freeway, heading north to the Hawkesbury River. She was ahead of the worst of the traffic. Her phone rang. It was Griffin, speaking to her through her earpiece.
‘There’s been a change of plan,’ he said. ‘Drive to Brooklyn and go to the public jetty.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Should you care? It’s a shorter drive for you. Sara will be there.’
‘Where are you?’ she asked.
‘Somewhere,’ he said. ‘You want to get paid. Do what I ask.’
Narelle had unplugged herself.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Elliot,’ Grace said.
‘You’re stupid! Let me talk to him!’
She reached to grab Grace’s earpiece; Grace batted her down.
‘Too late, he’s gone. Change of plan,’ Grace said. ‘We’re going to Brooklyn. You know Brooklyn, don’t you?’
‘What’s there?’
‘A public jetty.’
‘Oh, his yacht! He said one day we’d sail away.’
Are you listening, Clive? Get your people down there. Get someone on the river. Do it now.
She was close to Berowra, where she would have to turn off the freeway onto the old Pacific Highway for the run to Brooklyn, a small fishing village on the Hawkesbury River some fifty kilometres north of Sydney, best known for its marinas and oyster farms. Griffin had rung at too opportune a time for her liking. Someone was telling him where she was.
She had reached the turn-off. The old road was a single-lane highway left to deteriorate, its surface cracked and cheaply repaired. It twisted over the hilly, tree-covered ground leading up to the high ridge overlooking the river, much of which was national park or nature reserve.
‘He knows where we are. We’re being followed,’ she said, speaking not to Narelle but to the listeners on the end of her wire.
‘What are you talking about?’ Narelle asked. ‘You’re weird.’
Grace’s phone rang again. This time it was her backup.
‘There’s a motorcycle with a pillion passenger behind you. They’ve been with you for a while. They’re moving faster and getting closer. You’re going to need to take evasive action.’
‘Where are you?’
‘In range. Moving up behind them. Keep the line open.’
‘What was that about?’ Narelle asked.
‘Put your hood up and get down in your seat.’
‘Why?’
‘Just do it!’
Grace put her foot down, speeding up a winding hill towards a communications tower on the summit. She looked in the rear-view mirror. A motorcyclist with a pillion was speeding up to come alongside her on her right. Narelle hadn’t moved. She sat there looking sullen.
‘Get down now!’ Grace shouted at her.
‘What’s happening?’
‘Down!’
Grace swung out onto the wrong side of the road as the motorbike drew level with her, almost knocking the bike over. The rider swerved to avoid a collision, almost went off the road, drew back, and then followed her back to the left lane and was again trying to draw level. Grace saw her backup behind them.
‘What’s going on?’ Narelle’s voice was almost a shriek.
‘Keep quiet and don’t panic!’
The rider was accelerating to come alongside, only to find the backup car on his tail trying to nudge his back wheel. Then Grace’s back window and windscreen shattered almost instantaneously. The pillion on the bike behind her had fired. Narelle began to scream, curling into a ball in her seat. The on-coming air hit Grace like a wall. She hung on to the car, fighting to keep it under control and on the road.
On a tight bend, she came close to swerving onto the wrong side of the twisting road, almost colliding head on with an approaching vehicle, but managed to drag the car back. The car’s horn blared as she sped past it. Then there was a crash.
The bike had still been there, swinging away from her backup to come alongside on the left, beside Narelle. Pushed by the backup car behind, it had collided with Grace side on as she swerved back to her side of the road. She had hit it at full speed. Gripping the wheel, she dragged the car away from the bike up onto the shoulder, where she brought it to a stop. Then she radioed in.
‘We’ve had an incident. The pick-up is aborted. We may have two deaths as well.’
Clive was on the end of the line. ‘I’ll have an ambulance and police on the way ASAP. Expect me also.’
Narelle had got out of the car and was running along the road. Grace ran her down and dragged her back.
‘Let go of me,’ Narelle shouted, struggling.
Grace pushed her hard against the car. ‘Keep quiet. You will sit in this car and you won’t move.’
Narelle was quiet for a few moments, then made to run again. Grace was holding the girl’s wrists in a tight grip when a member of her backup arrived, carrying a pair of handcuffs.
‘Just sit still,’ he said, and cuffed Narelle to the steering wheel. Grace took the car keys.
‘Don’t do this to me,’ Narelle shouted. ‘What have I done?’
‘Sit in the car and be quiet,’ Grace snapped. ‘If it wasn’t for us, you’d be ending up dead. So count your lucky stars.’
‘What are you talking about? Elliot wouldn’t hurt me!’
Grace didn’t bother to answer. The car she had almost collided with head on had come back and pulled to a stop on the shoulder just near the bike. Its driver, a man, was hurrying towards the rider and the pillion passenger where they lay sprawled on the road. Behind them, another car had come to a halt and a small line was beginning to form. One car started pulling out to drive around the smashed bike; a concerned driver got out of another.
‘I’ll deal with the traffic,’ one of the backup team said, and went to move the cars on. The other backup was standing over the rider and pillion, pointing a gun at them. The pillion rider’s gun lay where it had finished up on the dirt. Grace reached the injured men at the same time as the driver from the first car.
‘Stop there,’ the Orion operative ordered him.
The driver stopped, white-faced, staring at the operative’s gun. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘We’re with the police. Who are you?’
‘I’m a nurse,’ the man said.
‘Let him look at them,’ Grace said.
The operative stepped back, gun still at the ready. The nurse was calm, if pale.
‘I think your pillion rider’s probably dead,’ he said.
‘Can you help the other one?’ Grace asked.
‘Can I take his helmet off?’
‘Do it.’
The nurse removed the helmet and used his own coat as a cushion for the rider’s head. He was moving in and out of consciousness. Grace recognised Joe Ponticelli from Harrigan’s launch.
‘Probably internal bleeding,’ the nurse said. ‘Probably quite severe. We need an ambulance.’
‘It’s on its way.’
The nurse checked the other man, also taking off his helmet. This man was unknown to her.
‘Very dead. Probably almost instantly. His neck’s broken.’
Despite her years of training and experience, Grace swayed on her feet, feeling cold and sick. Briefly she closed her eyes.
‘Are you all right?’ the nurse asked.
She nodded. Glancing sideways, she saw the other operative looking at her speculatively.
‘I saw it happening when you almost ran into me,’ the nurse said. ‘I don’t think it was your fault. They ran into you.’
You can expect it in a business like this where the people who make the rules are murderers. She had heard this from a speaker during her induction course all those years ago. It had never been more real. She nodded her thanks to the nurse but couldn’t speak.
First on the scene was Clive, with the police and ambulance following. The injured man was taken away first; the dead man waited his turn under a cover on the road.
‘Where’s Narelle Wong?’ Clive asked.
‘We had to handcuff her to the car. She kept trying to make a run for it.’
‘Let’s have a look at her.’
They walked over to where Narelle was sitting in the passenger seat.
‘This hurts!’ she said. ‘It’s cutting off my circulation!’
‘You were on your way to meet someone,’ Clive said. ‘Do you want to tell me who that person is?’
‘None of your business.’
‘I think you’ll find it is. Is it this man?’ Clive showed her a surveillance photograph of Joel Griffin.
‘I don’t know. Take this thing off me!’
‘You are aware you’re implicated in Jirawan Sanders’s murder? Certainly as an accessory before the fact.’
‘I didn’t know anything about that. I still don’t.’
‘We have testimony that she worked under duress at Life’s Pleasures and was under your control. That’s deprivation of liberty. Did you know that? You were also involved in the intended sale of her passport. These are serious offences.’
Narelle was dissolving into tears. ‘What would I know about any of that? My arm hurts!’
‘Get it unlocked,’ Grace said to the operative with the key, who was standing beside her.
‘Would you come with us, Miss Wong?’ Clive said. ‘This gentleman here will show you to a car. We’d like to speak to you.’
‘You haven’t told me who you are. Are you the police?’
Clive reached for a small wallet, which he flicked open for her. She stared at it uncomprehendingly.
‘This is my identification. I’m advising you that under our legislation we can hold you incommunicado without charge for fourteen days and I intend to do so. This man will look after you. Go with him, please.’
‘This is her ID,’ Grace said, handing the operative Narelle’s leather bag.
‘No, I’ll take that,’ Clive said.
Narelle turned to Grace. ‘You lied to me.’
‘Just this way, Miss Wong, with this gentleman here,’ Clive said. ‘We’ll get you in the car.’
‘I hope he kills you for it,’ Narelle lashed back at Grace one last time.
A tow truck arrived and removed Grace’s car. The smashed bike was also being readied to be removed. The traffic on the highway was crawling just enough. Someone handed her a cup of coffee. Clive, who had been overseeing the cleanup, came over.
‘You kept the media away,’ Grace said.
‘I want this under wraps. You handled it well. You kept your head under very difficult circumstances.’
One person dead, one person critical. Murderers both. Whatever they were, she wasn’t a killer. She hadn’t wanted to be responsible for anyone’s death.
‘I’ve missed my rendezvous,’ she said. ‘Do we know what’s happening down at Brooklyn?’
‘Sara McLeod is still down there. She’s moored a small yacht at the public jetty. I want you to stay in role. I have a surveillance team down there now and I’m organising a boat as well. They’ll be there as soon as they can. I’ve got you another car. I want you to go down there and tell her Narelle is dead.’
‘Then how come I’m alive?’
‘They were aiming for you and got her. You ran them off the road, killed one of them and left the other there. Then you took a side road into the bush and dumped Narelle’s body. As well as Jirawan Sanders’s passport, you have Narelle’s ID and you want to be paid for it the same as if you had delivered her in person.’
‘For them to believe that, the car has to be shot up in some way.’
‘No, you abandoned it. The one you’re driving is stolen.’
‘What am I trying to achieve?’ she asked.
Clive didn’t blink. ‘Griffin has given us the slip. We don’t know where he is. He’s definitely not down at the marina. I want to see if Sara McLeod will take you to him.’
‘How did that happen?’
‘He went back to his apartment building at Bondi Junction last night after he left your partner’s book launch. He never arrived at his unit in that building. Sometime since then he left without us seeing him. We think he must have a second unit in the building under another name and also had another car ready to go. He was probably driven out by someone else.’
‘Well, he’s made fools of us, hasn’t he?’
‘Give me your opinion. Does he know this is a sting?’
‘Whatever he thinks, he’s playing his own game,’ she replied. ‘And whatever we’re doing, it’s not relevant to him. We’re just something he has to deal with. Probably keeping his activities very secret is something he does regardless of whether he thinks he’s being watched or not.’
‘We have to take the initiative. Take the car, keep the rendezvous. You’re wearing your wire. It has a GPS in it. Whatever happens, we can track you. Don’t let him take your firearm.’
‘You want me to go now?’
‘Yes. We’ll be listening to everything you say but I want you to maintain the blackout. But if at any time you want to pull out, say “Time to go” and we’ll be there.’
Grace finished her coffee. ‘I’d better go then. But there’s one thing I want you to do for me. Ring Harrigan and tell him I’m okay, and ask him to tell Ellie I’ll be home soon.’
‘I’ll do that,’ he replied. ‘Here’s Narelle’s ID. Don’t worry. We’re with you every step of the way.’
She prepared by scrubbing off her make-up and slicking back her hair as if she’d washed her face recently. Then she drove away along the Pacific Highway in the growing dusk, making the descent to the river. She had thought the operation would be over by now but it felt like it was just starting. She wanted to ring Harrigan herself and talk to him, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to know how Ellie was. At least they were home, safe.