Kiss On The Bridge (4 page)

The moment Wade entered the café he ordered
two cappuccinos. He gave the waitress instructions the second
coffee belonged to the woman in the long coat watching him from
across the street. He paid for the hot brew, left the café and
joined the stream of shoppers. The woman re-commenced her quest to
follow. Wade noted she’d dropped back slightly to avoid possible
detection.

Wade entered the park across the road. To
make it easier for the woman to approach him he sat on the nearest
seat. The forty foot Elm trees lining the pea stone path still
smelt damp from the rain the previous night. A woman pushing her
young eighteen-month-old daughter in a stroller walked past.
Raising her eyebrows she looked Wade up and down before marching
off wearing a grin.

A school-boy riding a pushbike entered the
park. Wade watched him ride directly at him.

“This is for you,” announced the lad, handing
over a scrap piece of paper.

“Who gave you the message?” asked Wade,
noting the paper had been neatly folded five times.

“A woman standing at the entrance to the
park,” he replied.

“Can you give me a description of what she
looks like?”

The lad shrugged. Before riding off the boy
looked over his shoulder. “She must be rich; she gave me one
hundred dollars to give you the note.” The young teenager gestured
a wave before pedaling his pushbike towards the entrance to the
park.

Wade sprinted through the park’s wrought iron
gate to the street. He made it in time to see the mystery woman
step onto a tram. Before she sat the tram took off towards
Melbourne CBD.

Five men dressed in black suits squatted
behind three large trees waiting for Wade’s return. They watched
him stroll slowly back towards the park seat, too intent on reading
the note to see what was happening around him.

The five men marched up behind Wade. One tall
athletic built man growled in a low baritone voice.

“Only a fool will turn around.”

Wade froze in his tracks. Scrunching the note
he slipped it deep into his pants’ pocket. “I’m no fool.”

“Good. The five of us don’t want to see you
in an accident.”

“What is it you want?”

“We don’t want anything except a few minutes
of your time.”

Every cell in Wade’s lawyer trained body
screamed for him to turn around. Recommencing his walk, he pushed
the warning out of his mind. “I’m listening.”

“The five of us want you to walk towards the
small lake at the bottom of the slope.”

Walking towards water sounded warning bells.
Wade’s mind slipped back to a conversation between him and his
gangster friend. Wade quickly quoted his number one rule. ‘To stay
alive never be anywhere near water.’

“Why can’t we talk here, face to face?” Wade
questioned.

“My boys and I have the power over you. We
expect you’ll do exactly what I order. I alone decide your
fate.”

“Do you have a name?” asked Wade, making a
two bit conversation sound important.

“My little inquisitive friend, you will never
know. Turn down the next narrow dirt track. It leads straight to
the lake.”

A ten foot wire fence separated the traffic
and the other side of the stagnant water which looked no larger
than a normal house block. Wade knew the moment he stood at the
shallow lake there were no other exits except via the path.

At the halfway point Wade decided the men
needed to know their next alleged victim won’t be taking what they
were about to dish out lying down. In his mind he went through his
attack scenario. He’d punch the biggest first then so on till only
the smallest remained standing. The move happened to be the number
two rule his gangster friend taught him. They became familiar
acquaintances after proving to the court of his innocence. Six
months of walking the streets, talking to men nobody wanted to
know, saw the real culprit in court. After a two month trial, the
real murderer was in jail for life.

At the same time Wade curled his fingers into
white knuckled fists he spun on the balls of his feet to view the
scene. He lunged at the two men left of center. Using a right hook
to their jaws he dropped them both. The two bringing up the rear
were next. They crumbled to the ground nursing their cracked ribs.
Wade spun around eyeballing the one remaining person.

The man stood tall, acting ice cool. Pulling
a small hand gun from his coat pocket, he pointed it directly at
Wade’s heart. The third rule he learnt; if the attacker is holding
a gun; never argue.

“Don’t move,” growled the man. “We only
wanted to have a talk.”

“Tell me the reason why you’re here?” growled
Wade, keeping one eye focused on the gun, the other on the
antagonist.

“Did you know there’s been a woman following
you?”

“No.”

“You must have known. We’ve been watching her
every move for at least three hours.”

The man’s voice came across more like a growl
than of someone who actually cared.

“If she were following me, I surmise the
woman didn’t want to be seen or I’d have talked to her.”

“Have a good think,” barked the man. “Your
future depends on it.”

Wade enjoyed rule number four the most. He
never waited for the finale when the end might be too late to
react. He didn’t give the man holding the gun a moment to decide
whether to pull the trigger or not. Surprise always resided on the
side of the just. Wade quickly side stepped. Using a tight fist he
jabbed the aggressor in the ribs. He heard a crack. The man yelled
in excruciating pain. He crumbled to the ground spilling the gun
from his hand. Wade hovered over the man at the same time the other
four staggered to their feet.

“For future reference, you don’t have to use
a fist or a gun to ask me a question. If you do you might be
nursing another cracked rib.” Wade glared at the other men. “Take
him and leave.”

The men took hold of the injured man and
hobbled back up the dirt path towards the city traffic.

After Wade pocketed the gun, the return trip
to his yacht took him past the courthouse. A slight shuffling noise
being emitted from the lane next to the courthouse steps forced him
to stare down the lane. A second scrapping noise came from behind
the large four foot cubed industrial garbage bin.

“Why have you been following me?” called
Wade, trying to ignore the stench of rotting rubbish in the
lane.

Eventually a muffled voice spoke.

“Listen closely to what I’m about to tell
you. I will say it only once.”

“Okay, you have my undivided attention.”

“The woman you seek, what is her name?”

“I’m not sure if it’s any of your concern,”
called Wade, stepping into the lane.

“Trust me, it is.”

“Anneli,” confessed Wade.

“Do you know her last name?”

“Yes I do.”

“Tell me what you know?”

Wade stepped closer to the bin. “I’m not in
the habit of talking to a person hiding behind objects.”

“Stay where you are,” urged the voice.

Wade replayed his number four rule by
sprinting for the bin. He needed to stop the messenger before the
person escaped into the main stream of shoppers. In panic the foe
sprinted down the lane away from the courthouse.

The person behind the voice seemed more agile
than a cat. Wade slowly narrowed the gap to his escaping foe. He
lunged for the latte coloured hat the stranger wore. It fell off in
his hand. The figure stopped, brushed her long blonde hair from her
face before staring wide eyed at the man standing at arm’s
length.

“You’re a woman,” muttered Wade, shocked.

“I’m happy you can tell the difference.”

The woman started to back step. Wade grabbed
her forearm.

“Let me go,” she yelled, struggling to break
free.

“No way, not until you explain the note?”

The woman’s long blonde hair glistened in the
sunlight. Wade felt sorry for the messenger. He loosened his grip,
giving her a friendly lazy smile.

“Thank you.”

The woman held out her hand for the hat. Wade
willingly handed it over. He watched her place her hair in a bun
before tucking it under her hat.

“What are you scared of?”

“If I’m caught, I’ll be wearing cement shoes
and thrown into Port Phillip Bay.”

“Who’d do such a horrendous act?”

“The identity of the person is not
important,” hissed the woman.

“Do you have a name?” asked Wade.

“At this moment in time it’s safer if I
refuse to disclose my name.”

“Why?”

“Cement shoes.”

Wade could tell the woman felt petrified of
being discovered. The cement shoe story she spun to hide her
identity could be a real prospect. “Can I buy you a coffee?”

The woman darted a frightened stare at the
end of the lane. “I have to cut our chat short. We weren’t supposed
to meet.”

“The coffee shop is close by. You’ll be safe
there.”

“I don’t have the time. You’ve also forgotten
what I’ve just told you,” insisted the woman.

“I didn’t forget. The cement shoes idea has
you frightened.”

“You won’t stop me from leaving?”

Wade shook his head. “No. Before you go tell
me something; did you write the note?”

“Yes. I’m here to make sure you understood
it.”

“I have yet to read it,” hinted Wade
stretching the truth. “Five blokes insisted we have a chat down by
the lake.”

“What men?”

“I have a feeling you know the answer. I’m
going out on a limb here. Could you be related to Anneli?”

“Be careful of your accusations, the limb
your standing on might break.”

Hearing heavy footsteps near the entrance to
the lane, Wade took hold of the woman’s arm, forcing her to step
into a doorway further along. “Tell me what you wrote on the yellow
paper?” he whispered.

“The note handed to you by the lad on the
bike has her last name on it. She will be in Darwin on Christmas
eve1974. If you want to make 1975 extraordinary, take my advice,
find her before new-years-day. Her father’s plans have been sped
up. She will be married at 5pm 1st January 1975.”

“Why have you told me this? Who are you?”

“Who I am is not important. There’s a rumour
buzzing around in certain circles there’s a man searching for
Anneli. There’s also a report her fiancé, the one she has never
met, is not happy.”

“Not met yet?” Wade’s voice sounded
vague.

“He’s put a price on your head,” whispered
the woman. She spied a group of men entering the lane. “I’ve
outstayed my time. To sum up our chat, Anneli will meet the man she
has been ordered to marry, the day after Christmas day. The wedding
will take place on the date I’ve told you.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me?”
asked Wade.

The woman lifted her head to look him in the
eyes. “Don’t be late.”

The mysterious woman’s last words were still
clear in Wade’s ears when she stepped away from the doorway. He
stood watching her run off in the opposite direction to the
Courthouse.

Wade decided he didn’t want a rematch to his
fight. He sprinted up the lane to a side entrance to the courthouse
to strike up a conversation with the first cop he saw. The men
ambled past, glaring. At the far end of the lane they got into a
dark blue sedan and drove off. Wade handed the gun he took from one
of his attackers to the cop. He gave a watered down summary of what
happened before saying goodbye.

CHAPTER FOUR

December 24th 1974. A tad less than eleven
hours before cyclone Tracy’s arrival time. The barometer needle
started dropping towards nine hundred and thirty hectopascals. When
the black needle arrived at the destructive point Cyclone Tracy
would strike.

WADE JUMPED onto the wharf, tied the bow and
stern line of his one million dollar forty foot white coloured
yacht to the posts before bounding back down the steps into the
belly of the yacht. For a few moments he stood on the bottom step
appreciating the inner workings. Off to one side was the galley
which included a small bar. The small lounge on his right consisted
of a mini TV which he personally screwed to the wall. Two
comfortable bean bags sat neatly on dull red carpet. The small
table and two chairs were in one corner. A leather chair looked at
home in the other. At the front of the yacht the door led into the
bedroom. A king size bed filled half the room while a door next to
the bed led to the shower.

Wade looked out of the porthole window,
enjoying the orange coloured sunset. Darwin’s temperature hit the
monthly average again, failing to drop a degree the entire day. He
shaved, showered and dressed in comfortable smart casual attire.
Walking past the mirror, glued to the inside of the wardrobe door,
he stopped to check his appearance.

He hoped for the perfect night.

Wade arrived in Darwin for only one reason;
find Anneli, the young lady he kissed on the bridge.

Before closing the door on the mirror he
nodded at his reflection. Included in the eleven months of hard
digging and endless phone calls to unearth her last name, the
mystery woman’s timely message helped him to be in Darwin to stop
the so called farce of a wedding. Meeting the mystery woman plagued
heavy on Wade’s mind. Switching his thoughts to the identical
message left for him in Sydney and again in Queensland when he
stopped to restock his provisions, both handwritten messages
contained a photo. Wade felt convinced the messages were from the
same woman. She’d taken more than a casual interest in his voyage
to Darwin.

Wade walked up the steps to the deck. “I
wonder if the mystery woman is Anneli’s sister?” he said louder
than he should have.

“What did you say young fella?”

Wade looked up at the old fisherman. His
clothes reeked of fish. He swung a red bucket while shuffling along
the wharf to the end.