Chapter 35

Harry watched the big Ferris wheel turning against the backdrop of city lights. On his left, the Cultural Centre sat like a stack of toddler’s blocks, lit up with special Christmas lights. On his right, the light and shade of Southbank parklands. The sound of kids playing at Kodak Beach carried on the warm night air.

Harry’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket.

I thought you were going to buy me a drink at the Christmas party?

Christine. Shit. He’d completely forgotten about it. It seemed weird that back in the normal world, normal things were still happening. It was a world he no longer belonged in. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Across the river, Harry could see people moving through the few offices with their lights on. Movers and shakers racking up Friday-night overtime to try and get ahead. Cleaners, giving the offices a quick once-over before knocking off.

He imagined Rob over there, laying the black case on the floor, opening it and assembling his sniper rifle. Setting it up, getting comfy. He didn’t have Tim to help him this time, like he did back in Afghanistan, but it was a relatively easy shot. But there would be civilians everywhere, and he’d have limited time. Cardinal would climb out of his car almost where Harry was standing now, then walk into the Cultural Centre. Rob would have the time it took him to walk across that road.

Harry swapped his courier bag from one shoulder to the other. In it he had his laptop and notebook, in case Vessel wanted to make a last-minute statement. Pens, spare pens, and more spare pens. Vessel would be shocked. It was going to take him some time to absorb the information.

‘Harry Hendrick!’

Harry jumped. He turned and saw Ron Vessel approaching with his big cheesy grin, hand outstretched. Harry shook it, trying to avoid letting Vessel crush his fingers. The politician gestured to the Brisbane Eye.

‘Bit tacky for your photo, isn’t it?’ he said.

Harry shrugged. ‘There’re a few different angles. The Cultural Centre’s in the background or, the other way, the city. You know, city boys make good.’

Ron didn’t seem convinced.

‘Doesn’t the Chronicle hire photographers any more?’ he asked.

‘Not on Friday nights. We chip in with the Mail for some social shots, but that’s about it.’

Ron grunted. He seemed to sense something wasn’t right.

‘Come on, it won’t take long,’ Harry said.

‘Okay. What the hell, right?’

Harry had organised the ride with the operators. They sounded a little dubious at first, until Harry told them he didn’t want a free ride. Then they seemed to think that the article might drive a bit of extra traffic their way. As it was, business wasn’t doing well. The Eye was named after a similar ride in London, but it was half the size, and Brisbane was half as impressive.

The wheel came to a stop and the doors opened. A young guy and girl climbed off, holding hands and clutching iPhones. Harry gestured and Ron climbed on. Harry followed, and they sat on either side of the pod. The girl’s perfume lingered in the enclosed space.

‘So, how does it feel to be the next Treasurer?’ Harry asked.

Ron grinned. ‘Now, now Harry. The campaign launch is tomorrow, and then there’s a long, long week to election day. I think people will be surprised by how many want to maintain the status quo.

‘I’m sure the PM has a few tricks up his sleeve for the final week of the campaign.’

The doors slid shut.

‘Yeah, right,’ Harry said. ‘The prime minister’s campaign is dead in the water. Andrew Cardinal is 15 points up.’

‘It’s not over until it’s over.’

The wheel started moving. Slowly at first, stopping to let people off. They crept higher in the sky.

‘Actually, Ron, I have an ulterior motive for asking you out here.’

Ron laughed. ‘Well, you know, Harry, I’m married. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but we’re working out our problems so…’

Harry smiled, pushed on.

‘Do you know what Andrew Cardinal did in Afghanistan?’

‘It’s classified. He worked for military intelligence.’

‘Yeah, but do you know?’

Ron stared through Harry. They reached the top, then the Eye stopped. Below them, a CityCat crept down the river; city lights reflected in its wake like phosphorescence. Harry pulled out his laptop, opened it. It emerged out of sleep mode. Harry typed his password and brought up a copy of his notes. He handed it to Vessel.

Ron took the computer, rested it on his lap. He pulled out his reading glasses and peered down his nose at the screen.

‘Not the best light in here,’ he said.

‘Andrew Cardinal was smuggling drugs into Australia. He was using the Dreadnorts MC to distribute them, and Swenson Constructions to launder the money. In 2005 he was involved in a massacre in Helmand province. Thirty people murdered. Men, women, kids. At least one woman brutally raped.’

Harry remembered her hijab, blowing along the rows of poppies. Ron stared down at the screen. Harry expected him to blanch. Expected him to say it was all a load of bullshit. When he laughed, it caught Harry off guard. Ron turned his head slightly, as if looking for someone else in the pod, even though it was barely big enough for the two of them.

‘Nice one, Harry,’ he said. ‘Are you recording this?’

He grinned, looked for a hidden camera or microphone. Harry stared at him. The smile faltered.

‘You’re not serious?’ Vessel said.

Harry nodded.

Vessel snorted out another laugh, but there was little mirth in this one. ‘Harry, Andrew Cardinal is a war hero.’

‘He’s a drug dealer, rapist and murderer.’

Vessel shook his head. ‘I know I said you should get out of community newspapers. But fiction writing wasn’t what I had in mind, Harry. Jesus!’

He thrust the laptop back at Harry.

‘If I were you, I’d take this home and delete it. Who are your sources, Harry?’

Harry felt the heat rise to his face. His tattoos itched. He knew what Rob wanted to do to Vessel.

‘My sources are my sources.’

‘How much can you prove?’

‘Most of it.’ He thought of the dossier of documents, lying hidden somewhere in Brisbane. ‘I’m working on verifying all of it.’

‘Harry. You can’t verify fairytales.’

The wheel was moving again now, arcing back towards the ground. Vessel leant forward. Harry could see the colour in his cheeks, the sweat on his brow. Fear, or anger?

‘How many people know about this?’

Harry considered. ‘My editor knows I’m working on something. But not the details.’ He didn’t mention Jess. Harry didn’t think enlisting an insurance executive would strengthen his case.

‘A word of advice, Harry. Keep it that way.’

The wheel came to a stop. The doors opened. Ron went to leave, then paused, looked back into the pod. ‘Shit mate, you forgot your photos!’

He laughed, and then he was gone. Harry watched him leave, picking up two security guys on the way as he walked towards the ABC building. Harry eventually climbed out on shaky legs. Nausea gripped him. He made it down to the river before he threw up, his stomach constricting until all that was left was a spider’s web trailing down from his mouth to the rocks below.

Beside him, light flashed, pushbike brakes squealed. Cops. Two of them.

‘You okay, sir?’ one of them asked.

Harry nodded.

‘You been drinking?’ the other said. The headlights on the bikes were so bright Harry could barely see their faces.

‘I had a few beers,’ Harry said. ‘But I think I might have food poisoning. Dodgy burger.’

The cops stared at him.

‘I caught the bus in,’ he said, knowing he was over-explaining, but unable to stop himself.

‘Better get yourself on another one home then, hadn’t you?’ the first one said.

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

He shuffled along the river, walking until the waterside breeze and the anger welling inside him gave him a second wind.

Harry had expected that Vessel wouldn’t want to believe what he was being told. The election was a week away. Harry’s story would blow Labor out of the water, maybe for good. Vessel had been nurturing this dream for a long time. And he’d seen some dark and bloody days in the Labor caucus.

But to shut down Harry so quickly, without even hearing him out. Harry shook his head. He was going to have to work quickly now. Vessel would have been onto Cardinal right away. Spin doctors would be mobilised, lawyers readied. They would do everything they could to discredit Harry. And they would probably succeed. Unless Harry didn’t give them the opportunity. He looked over at the buildings across the river.