Hindsight (51 page)

Detective Symes lounged on the lower deck of the luxury sports cruiser he’d borrowed from the upcoming police auction, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, protected from most of the passing storm by a tarpaulin, but revealing too much of his skinny white legs and bandaged thigh as he reclined by torchlight, drinking cold green tea out of a beer bottle. Surrounded by a forest of fishing rods that were all secured in the fashion of professional sportsmen, he wasn’t the least bit perturbed when his newfangled fisherman’s watch chimed on the half hour after midnight.

‘Hey, look here,’ he said, calling to his subordinate. He leaned closer to Moser’s fishing chair and tapped the face of his watch to draw his companion’s attention to the five little fish icons that were swimming across his watch with backlighting under a string of other icons depicting the current phase of the moon and tides.

‘It’s a five fish night, Clyde. You know what that means?’

Moser rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve been staked out too long and too close to Serenity?’

‘Very funny. No, I set the watch for these coordinates. I figured if we had to go undercover we might as well go all the way. The more fish, the bigger the catch, and five fish is as big as the scale goes.’

‘Yeah, great,’ Moser replied, unimpressed. ‘With my luck we’ll pull up a shark instead of a submarine.’

‘Lance — Corporal — Lockman,’ called a familiar male voice through the door. ‘Has anyone ever told you, you’re not a team player?’

Lockman could hardly believe his ears, but thermal imaging at such close range depicted the burly shape and cranial structure that went with the voice, along with five other heat signatures clustered behind him on the stairs, most of them recognisable too.

‘Sergeant Patterson?’ he called in reply. ‘How did you get here so fast?’ Then he glanced down through the floor with his visor and realised the body count down there hadn’t changed, but it had shifted. Instead of four in the apartment and three at the top of the fire exit, it was now one in the lower floor of the apartment and six on the other side of the barricade.

‘How did you get in there, Corporal? Surely not up the outside with your injuries?’

‘How did you know it was me?’

Patterson laughed. ‘Who else? Listen, son, I don’t know what you think you’re doing — or maybe I do — but this site is already secure. Lay down your arms and dismantle the barricade.’

‘Can’t do that, Sarge. Last time we spoke, you were up to no good, as I recall. If you want me, you’re gunna have to come get me.’

‘Now, son. I recognise that you’re a little confused and more than a little stressed right now and probably having a hard time believing me, but I can guarantee that you’ve got your wires crossed here. It’s like Papa Bear said when he sent you on leave in the first place: you’re not fit for duty.’ Then he winked, with the purple, red and pink hotspots of his thermal signature resuming a serious expression almost instantly.

‘Papa Bear?’ Lockman repeated.

‘Colonel Kitching couldn’t be happier to hear you’re back on your feet. He’s also grateful you’ve kept the blind bitch safe for him. Above and beyond, you might say.’

‘Are you telling me he’s
out
?’

‘What do you think? Now open up, son. It’s time to rejoin the team.’

‘I need medics,’ he argued.

‘Yeah, no shit!’ shouted Lyn Cinq. ‘Let us in, genius. They’re right behind us.’

Hesitating, Lockman’s gut instincts warned him of a deception, while logic told him that the sarge’s obvious lies were intended to reassure him despite the danger.

‘Come on, son. Mission success. You know how this had to go down. Stage one: deliver the care package. Stage two: take charge and provide security as far as the rendezvous point.’

Lockman shook his head. The way he remembered it, their stage two had been to take charge from him after the fire and track Mira from the shop until her captors led them to the key link in the Greppia-Kitching alliance. So if they’d recaptured her and handed her to Greppia, then they were probably still attempting to track her to find Mr Mystery. It seemed logical that any major auction of her as an asset would need such an agent. And there’d be no way to stay closer to her this time than to put themselves into Greppia’s hip pocket. How they’d managed that, he had no idea, unless they really were double agents. Either way, he couldn’t figure out what they were up to from his side of the door, and he did still need to ensure medics could get up to the wounded captives.

Hesitating with his knife on the rope that held the door closed by the knob to the heavy gym equipment, Lockman weighed the risks against the needs of the captives, and found himself at a stalemate. Reluctantly, he sliced the rope, hoping he’d interpreted the situation correctly, but the moment the knob released, the door wrenched open and the stairs bristled with three assault rifles and two Uzis — six men, five weapons, and all pointed at him.

‘Back up,’ Patterson said in the lead. ‘Tenacious son of a bitch. I told you to go fishing.’

‘I did.’ Lockman raised his hands as the stampede of traitors and criminals flowed past him. ‘Seems I netted more than I bargained for.’ He noticed the only one without a weapon was the head man, Gregan Greppia, whose eyes were teary and bloodshot.

‘Well, now you’re in it.’ Patterson relieved Lockman of his Glock, helmet and knife, and handed them to Cinq, then scanned the room. Lockman kept a close watch on his eyes and noticed that he was both surprised and horrified by the state of the captives — although he assigned nobody to check on them, he did mask his reaction swiftly and glance to Gregan Greppia, who in turn was staring at the dead body in the doorway.

‘Where are my other men?’ Greppia asked.

Lockman shrugged. ‘Taking a break?’

Greppia clicked his fingers, signalling his two remaining Uzi enthusiasts to investigate the patio. Corporal Uno went with them, returning a moment later to report that they’d found only three, while Greppia’s men dragged their bodies inside, one after the other.

‘There were four,’ Greppia said, approaching Lockman with a clenched fist. ‘Where’s the other?’

‘He looked stressed to me,’ Lockman said. ‘Did they check the spa?’

‘Smart ass. I’m told you were hired by my traitorous son?’ He threw a punch at Lockman who blocked him.

‘Nice,’ Lockman said with a sarcastic grin. ‘You got closer than any of your men.’

Cinq kicked Lockman’s right knee from behind and he buckled, then she struck his shoulder blade with the butt of his own Glock, barely missing his injured ribs and sending him sideways. He wasn’t hurt badly, but the look on Patterson’s face warned him to act it.

No acting required, he thought.

‘He’s your mad dog,’ Greppia said to Patterson. ‘Put him down, or I will.’

Lockman glared at Patterson with contempt. ‘So you’re all working for Kitching now?’

‘You are, too, you daft bastard. You’re either with us, or you’re demoted to patsy. You just committed four murders.’

‘Now I recognise him,’ Gregan said, pacing the room and growing frantic. ‘He’s the grunt the colonel had strung from the ceiling the day I put money down on the blind bitch! He was in trouble for murder then, too. Ask him … no, make him tell me how he came to work for my son!’

Reminded of that day in Kitching’s cell with Mira, Lockman recognised him as the buyer who had a laugh like a chortling kookaburra. ‘So you’re the chump who bought Mira Chambers?’

‘Chump?’ Gregan cried, tugging at tufts of his thinning hair. ‘What does he mean
chump
?’

Lockman grinned. ‘Kitching lied to you, man. He took your money and wants more, but she’s unreliable. A few lucky guesses is all. Your son knew that, too, obviously, since he was trying to get to you. But you only have to look at her eyes to see the truth. The girl is
blind
! Can’t see a damn thing. You might as well cut your losses and cut her loose, because the cops are coming, buddy, and they’ve only got one agenda today — to get you. Play nice and they’ll take it easier on you.’

‘ETA?’ Patterson asked.

Lockman returned the deceptive wink he’d received earlier. ‘How long can you hold your breath?’

Patterson grabbed him by the collar and lifted him back to his feet. ‘We have to move,’ he said to Greppia. ‘We can’t allow you to be captured here, sir. You have to make your rendezvous with the shipment.’

‘How can I be sure this isn’t all a ruse? I can’t contact the colonel again until he resurfaces for business. You could be working against him!’

‘We recaptured the care package, didn’t we? We could have delivered her straight to him, but in the interests of restoring business relations, Colonel Kitching ordered us to bring her directly to you in the faith that you’d transfer the balance of the funds owing to his account prior to your arrival at the rendezvous, or else agree to have it deducted from your fee for doing his laundry. It’s only another five mill, after all. What’s your worry?’

‘What if
he’s
right, and she can’t see all my enemies’ secrets?’

Patterson shrugged. ‘Simple; you stiff the colonel for final payment and say goodbye to the eight hundred million dollar transaction today. And the one next month. And the month after that. And so on. I’m sure the colonel can find someone else whose chainstores can be expanded just as readily internationally for laundering. Maybe even cheaper than the twenty per cent you charge.’

‘Not without greater risk of losing everything to the feds! My system is flawless, I tell you! The number of times detectives have stared straight at it and seen nothing. Seven years, and only one slip up because of that blind bitch — luckily nothing a little fire couldn’t cure.’

‘Evidence may be gone but the feds are onto the scam now.’

‘They’ll be dead soon enough. So you tell Kitching his money can’t be safer with anyone else, and he’s a fool if he thinks backstabbing me will gain him anything. Aside from “the care package” he’s renting to me —
renting
, mind you, not selling — for the ripe sum of fifteen million per week, I’ll be the only one alive who knows how my laundering system works. He needs me. If I smell another betrayal from his direction, I’ll snuff her and cut her up for sale myself.’

‘Sir, Colonel Kitching hasn’t and will not betray you,’ Patterson argued. ‘As I explained downstairs, your son took matters into his own hands to make it look that way. His neck injuries were self-inflicted and he let her go deliberately. The colonel wants to close this deal tonight. Now we really have to get going, sir. Police are en route. Your son would have arranged that as part of the set-up, with that cop he’s been employing as his own cleaner: Constable Douggie Moser.’

Gregan scowled at the lot of them, but eventually nodded, and signalled his men to collect the hostages.

‘Leave them,’ Patterson suggested. ‘They’ll slow us down.’

Again Greppia nodded, and headed for the stairs.

‘Bring
him
,’ Patterson said as he shoved Lockman into Corporal Uno’s arms. ‘The colonel will want to speak to him.’

The others went down ahead, while Davit Uno wrapped Lockman’s arm over his shoulder and helped him down the stairs. ‘Damn — four without a shot fired!’ he whispered. ‘You know we’re on
your
side, right?’

‘Not if they don’t get medical attention in the next ten minutes.’

‘I hear ya, buddy.’ He turned, allowing Lockman one last look at them before descending. ‘May not look like it, but we’re working on it.’

Thundering down the stairs of Chloe Greppia’s apartment caused a line of photographs to rattle on the wall, ancestors and family memories shaken and trembling. In the door to the main bedroom, a ghost appeared, resurrected in the pale likeness of a man — who yawned as if he’d just woken.

‘Time to leave?’ he asked, and as he rubbed a red mark that circumferenced his neck, Lockman spat at his feet. ‘Hey, where’d
he
come from?’ Greggie asked.

‘As if you don’t know,’ Gregan said menacingly. ‘If you think hiring a hit man to do your dirty work on me was the solution, you’re sorely mistaken! Colonel Kitching sent these men to protect me! So now I know all about you and your dirty little plans to take over the company.’