David Cheung reversed his shiny black BMW out of his driveway. He drove down the street, adjusted the rear-view mirror and glanced back at his house; three storeys of glass, marble and steel. It had taken eighteen months and three million dollars to build on the side of a sharp cliff in Northbridge, an affluent suburb on the lower north shore of Sydney, seven kilometres north of the central business district.
He came to a set of traffic lights, stopped on the amber and thought about his now-empty safety deposit box and the locked leather case beside him on the passenger seat. He was about to become two hundred thousand dollars poorer, but at least his family would be safe.
This morning he’d gone online and booked two one-way tickets to Hong Kong. The Qantas flight was leaving at 11:35 tonight and his wife had promised she and their son would be on it.
Constable Delaney looked at his watch, adjusted his Kevlar vest. ‘We’ve got about an hour and a half until our shift ends. Wanna go down to that noodle place at the Interchange and grab something to eat?’
‘Sounds good,’ Constable Troy Baker said. ‘But first I want to do a drive-by Douglas Avenue and see if those kids turned the music down like we asked them to. Don’t want to have to deal with another complaint from the neighbours.’
Five minutes later, the highway patrol car pulled into Douglas Avenue in North Chatswood. The street was quiet. The party was over.
‘Hey, look.’
‘What?’ Delaney wondered what Baker had seen.
‘Pull over.’
‘What?’
‘I said pull over.’
Delaney slowed down.
‘That BMW there.’ Baker pointed to the car. ‘There’s something odd about it, look at the way it’s parked.’
Delaney moaned. ‘All right, but can we be quick about it? My stomach’s doing backflips.’ He stopped the patrol car alongside the Beemer.
They reached for their torches, got out of the car and walked up to the BMW. Delaney tried the doors first. They were unlocked. There was a briefcase and a mobile phone on the passenger seat.
‘Why would anyone walk off with their phone on the seat and the car unlocked?’ Baker said.
Delaney shrugged. ‘Maybe the car broke down.’
‘They’d ring for road-side assistance and wait in the car, wouldn’t they?’ Baker picked up the phone with gloved hands. ‘The phone’s got plenty of battery left on it.’
Delaney gave another shrug. ‘Joy-riders? Kids from the party?’
‘Better run a check; see if it’s been reported stolen.’ Baker walked around the car, inspecting it for damage. The driver’s side wing was smashed and the headlamp glass was shattered. Delaney went back to the patrol car and entered the license plate number into their in-car data terminal. He waited. The car was clean. He joined Baker back at the Beemer.
‘No report of it being stolen,’ Delaney said. ‘Now can we go and eat?’ He shivered, the cold and damp biting through his clothes.
‘There’s something fishy about this,’ Baker said. He adjusted his leather gloves and leaned into the car, pulled out the briefcase and placed it on the bonnet. After he flicked the locks, he shone his torch on loose papers, pens, and a glasses case. ‘Dr David Cheung, it says here on his business card. He’s an ophthalmologist, based in Victoria Avenue.’
Delaney removed a glove and placed his hand on the bonnet. ‘Must have been here for a while, the motor’s stone cold.’
‘Did you notice it when we were here before?’
Delaney shook his head. ‘No, but the street was packed with cars from the party.’
Taylor leaned into the car and grabbed the mobile phone from the passenger seat. It wasn’t password protected and the last call made was to ‘home.’ Baker handed it to Delaney. ‘See if the family knows where he is. I’ll check the boot.’
Delaney walked off, made the call while his partner walked behind the car and opened the boot. He jumped back. ‘Holy crap!’
Delaney ended the call and walked around to the back of the car. ‘No answer on the home number.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Baker said. ‘I think I found him.’