Hindsight (36 page)

Taking care to organise and lay out their lines and ropes in preparation for a leap over the short fence and down the cliff, the two slim men worked with no signs of any communication, not even a glance or nod to Shelley before she left the way she’d come in.

‘Is there a security camera on the exit into the side alley?’ Mira asked.

‘No, but there are two out the front and one dysfunctional on the loading bay. Perhaps they expect all thieves to come in the right way?’

‘What do the cameras look like?’ Craning her neck, Mira couldn’t see anything obvious.

‘They’re part of the floodlights.’ He turned her around by the shoulders until she faced the longest side of the building, then lifted her chin gently until she was staring up at the eaves. ‘If you can see that one aimed at the loading bay, that little grey cylinder at the base is the camera housing.’

‘Oh, I see! The truck was parked conveniently to hide their arrival in Chole’s XKR.’

‘They had inside help? I guess that would explain all the other discrepancies, except maybe the busted door lock out front.’

‘We’ll soon see.’

Leaving their harnesses laid out in the shadows of the weedy flower garden along the fence, the two men scurried across to the loading bay, where the door rolled up as if expecting them.

‘It’s Greggie!’ Mira said. ‘He’s inside, letting them in.’

‘That can’t be right. He had an air-tight alibi that puts him elsewhere, at a party that night.’

‘Well, he was here. Wait, wait! They’re talking …’

Your uncle was supposed to meet us,
Dean said.
We left some tools here, and he was going to write out that final cheque he still owed us from May.

You missed him,
Greggie replied.
Must have slipped his mind. He asked me to lock up, but I guess it’s a good thing for you I’m running late, hey? Come on in. He may have left an envelope for you on his desk.

‘This is weird,’ Mira said, watching intently. ‘Greggie seems virtually innocent at that stage.’

‘Innocent men don’t need alibis.’

‘Hang on, now the truck is rocking.’

The shadow-lurker waited until the others were fully inside the shop before emerging, and as he turned to sneak in after them, Mira recognised him from the memorial photo. ‘It’s Theo Greppia! And he’s got a gun! I can’t believe it. It looks as if he’s going to rob them.’

‘Rob his own store?’

‘More likely
them
. He looks really angry … Come on; they’re going in.’

‘Hang five. This warrant doesn’t apply to military personnel. It’s for civilian detectives only, so if you want your friend back with his name cleared, you have to play by the rules
strictly.
’

‘Another leash?’ She wrinkled her nose, but she couldn’t get into the shop by herself anyway. ‘Have I told you people how much I hate you?’

‘Not today.’

She kicked the bitumen and waited, but not for long before she heard a car skid to a halt near the driveway entrance and Davit Uno asking for ID, then permitting admittance.

‘Senior Detective Sydney Symes,’ said the first man to get out beside Mira. He shook hands with Lockman, making a soft slap that sounded like passing a wet fish, and Mira sidestepped behind Lockman to avoid catching the same thing. ‘Thanks for meeting us, Lieutenant. It’s rare to get military assistance on a case like this.’

‘Detective Clyde Moser,’ said the second, and the slap of hands sounded more like a smack. ‘So where’s the care package?’

‘You’re looking at her.’ Lockman sidestepped slightly, making Mira feel more exposed, and in thanks, she dug him in the ribs with her knuckle, causing him to flinch more than she intended. ‘Ow, hey …’ He took her hand, raised and patted it, presenting her more like royalty. ‘General Garland sends her compliments, along with her most unique asset, Miss X.’

Mira frowned, resentful of being treated as such a thing, but kept silent, afraid that two professional detectives would be smart enough to figure out her secret from the smallest hints or slipped conversation.

‘So what is she?’ Moser asked. ‘A snitch or a mole?’

‘Neither,’ Lockman replied. ‘You can’t use any of her testimony in court, because technically, she doesn’t exist. General Garland wishes to remind you that the goal of collaboration here tonight is to identify leads worthy of follow-up investigation. If you’re later called upon to report on how any of your leads were seeded, you’re to attribute your lines of investigation to your own gut instincts.’

‘She’s the proverbial little bird,’ Moser said.

‘Little birds can be made to sing for a jury,’ Lockman argued. ‘That won’t be happening.’

‘She’s a ghost,’ Symes said. ‘I get it.’

Mira laughed.

‘Something funny, Miss X?’ asked Moser.

Shaking her head, she headed for the building.

‘Take your time,’ Lockman said, walking beside her, ‘and shout if you need anything.’

‘Wait, you’re not coming in with me?’ The thought of relying on complete strangers to prevent her from tripping repulsed her far more than confiding in Lockman. Military or not, at least she knew him and trusted him that much.

‘The warrant isn’t for military personnel,’ he reminded her. ‘You’re their consultant. Just do what you do and report.’

‘So if I do shout, you can’t come in anyway?’

‘Ah, no, that would be different.’

‘Then I’m shouting now, Lieutenant. I don’t mix well with strangers.’

‘They were both sergeants before they made detectives. Remember what I told you about sergeants?’

‘Yeah — brain damaged.’

‘Invincible,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘You’re in safe hands, ma’am. Trust me.’

‘Trust you,’ she muttered, turning for the shop. ‘If I don’t come out smiling, you’re going to need your whole army to defend you — and don’t think I didn’t notice you’re calling me ma’am again!’

‘She’s been ill,’ Lockman said apologetically. ‘Best stay close, gentlemen, in case she trips or faints. General Garland requires that she’s returned to us in the same condition she goes in.’

One of them hooked her arm in arm; suit coat, slim arm and classy aftershave. Symes, she guessed, having seen their ghosts and remembering Moser to be the bigger and beefier of the two. She wrenched away from him. ‘No touchy!’ she snapped. ‘Unless I’m falling.’

‘That can be arranged,’ Moser whispered.

‘I heard that,’ Mira said, ‘and I know all about your weird little tattoo, so you just keep your distance.’

‘What tattoo?’ Moser asked, still behind her.

‘Oh yeah, that’s Symes with Duck Dodgers on his nipple. You’re the one with that big mole on your rump.’

Neither of them replied, so she could only imagine their faces.

‘She’s good,’ Lockman said, accompanying her as far as the roller door. ‘Grumpy, but good.’

Garland braced herself inside the cargo hold of her airborne command centre as the Galaxy hit turbulence.

At the ‘office end’ of the cargo hold, it was business as usual inside the two inter-connectable shipping containers that contained all the staff and equipment she needed to keep track of military and civil defence assets around the country, along with a number of operatives currently working overseas. Her predecessor had burned out in three years, but as the seventh child of nine in a family of over-achievers, she’d been born multi-tasking and managing crib siblings. And as the only daughter among so many sons, she’d been raised to play smart and rough while messing it up with the bigger boys. Next month marked her seventh anniversary and the job still excited her; each victory a landmark, even though each mission against an adversary took years of painstaking tracking, planning, preparation and execution — often thwarted at times by well-resourced and cagy enemies based in enclaves overseas. Nobody aside from herself and a few key ministers would ever know about the differences she’d made and the lives she’d saved over the years in a job that technically didn’t exist except in times of war, but it was those kinds of results which drove her, not any shallow desire to reach the limelight. Each success served as its own reward, quite literally, by gathering technology, experience, tactics and often also the intel and networking contacts she needed to tackle the next mission — networking contacts that she was relying on heavily today for a range of missions all over the country — all in support of the current primary goal with Mira Chambers.

Waiting for reports, Garland twiddled with the only piece of jewellery that she ever wore aside from her dogtags and watch — a small pendant of a whale, given to her by Greenpeace as a token of appreciation for help in developing their stealth boats for safer use against illegal whalers disguised as Japanese ‘science vessels’. However, as she checked on her crew and load, it still struck her as ironic that a military flight would ever be transporting such heavy machinery for use by environmental groups — a bulldozer, cherrypicker and tree-trimmer. The load was bound to raise eyebrows at her next private meeting with the prime minister. Yet it brought a smile to her face to imagine the consternation it would have afforded any prying eyes that had been watching the loading that morning — and there was always somebody, even if those watchful eyes were satellites aligned to allied countries.

‘General?’ called one of her most diligent communications officers, a young airman by the rather appropriate name of Link Lasso, who spoke to her through her slim-line headset but also waved to her from the nearest shipping container — and she smiled, knowing that if anyone could hook a secure line under impossible circumstances, it was him. ‘Bad news,’ he said, surprising her. ‘You want to take it on screen, or audio only?’

Clicking her fingers twice beside her ear, she signalled him to transmit the audio feed, holding the headset and mouthpiece tighter against her face to help minimise the noise from the aeroplane. ‘Give me the punch-line, airman.’

‘Kitching’s escaped.’

‘Say again?’

‘He wants to tell you himself.’ Lasso clicked a switch and patched it through.

‘Hello, Caroline. Don’t bother replying or tracing the call. This is a redirected recording. Just thought you’d appreciate an update, since I know how much you like to stay on top of things. So perhaps you’d better send a guard to my cell. Ventilation’s not as good as it should be down there and that poor gent in my bunk will start to smell.’

The line clicked again and Link Lasso returned to her ear. ‘Very slick operation. We had three traces going. One pointed the origin of the call to the prime minister’s office, one to the warden’s office at the facility where he was being held, and one to … you.’

‘Has a guard been sent?’

‘I’ve got the warden on another line. He received a version of the recording a few minutes ago, and reports that the body is of an inmate from a neighbouring section. Convicted murderer; one of their worst. Dead two hours, at least. Duplicate surveillance footage is being uploaded to us now; however, it’s already clear that a small paramilitary group infiltrated security and enabled the extraction approximately three hours ago.’

Garland’s first thought was for Mira Chambers and keeping her safe from falling back into his hands. As a nexus in the illegal trades of military technology, Kitching was virtually unsurpassed in his connections. Mira could end up anywhere — and in any number of pieces. But then Garland remembered the reports from Detective Innes-Grady, which suggested rivalry in the Greppia family between the father and son. Divide and conquer. No faster way to stir up rivalry among Kitching’s new business partners than by tossing a bone between two hungry dogs — and no faster way to draw Kitching out of hiding than by dangling the one thing he’d be keen to steal again — especially since the Greppias still owed him at least five mill on the first deal to borrow her talents. All up, she was worth fifteen million to them, at
least
. They were all hunting her now anyway, and the fastest way to win a battle was to stay on top of the time, place and main objective.

‘Get a message past Alpha Lima to Echo Papa,’ she said, planning on minimising the risks to Mira as much as possible, and while she knew it meant burning Alpha Lima to some degree, she’d planned to relieve Lockman of his field commission sooner or later anyway. She’d already slipped a yellow envelope to her operative inside his team with orders to attract trouble and make it easier to discredit him in the eyes of Miss Chambers when the time came. ‘Tell him change of plans. Stage one: the care package must fall very carefully into family hands as soon as possible. Stage two: take charge and track.’