CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gary wanted to have a serious chat with Patrick Arnott about recent events and Arnott's plans for the future. He didn't want to return to his office in Bondi, in case it was being watched, so he headed towards a favourite coffee shop in Oxford Street, Paddington. On the way, he kept recalling how he shot the ginger-haired guy and shivered. Christ. This was supposed to be a simple missing person assignment for which he would be paid a measly $1000 a day, plus extras. Yet, he almost killed someone he didn't know. How the hell did that happen?
He considered walking away from the whole sorry mess. However, now he'd met Arnott, he felt obliged to keep him alive and was fascinated by the file Arnott stole from Merton & Co. Powerful people were desperate to recover it. Their henchmen had already killed one guy, Tony Tam, and tried to kill Gary and Arnott. Gary loved sticking his thumb in the eyes of powerful people. Maybe he could get his hands on the file and blow their worlds apart. Excitement made his body tingle.
The coffee shop was in the middle of a long strip of trendy boutiques. Gary parked about a block away and led Arnott along the pavement until they reached it. There were only a few patrons and they snared a table next to the window. Outside, well-heeled shoppers marched back and forward in the dull and law-abiding world Gary had just left. A waiter arrived and he ordered two cups of coffee.
Arnott had been shaking since they left the cottage in Alexandria. He rubbed his temple and looked annoyed. "I can't believe you shot that guy in the hallway."
Arnott still hadn't thanked Gary for saving his hide. Gary was no stickler for good manners, but that seemed bloody rude. "I had no option: it was him or me - and you for that matter. You're the one they really wanted."
"W-what were they going to do to me?"
"First, they would have tortured you to find out what you did with the file and how many copies you made …"
"T-t-then what?"
"They would have disposed of you."
"You mean, killed me?"
"Yup. Like I said: the stakes are huge. I hope you now realise how much trouble you're in. People - very bad people - want you dead."
Arnott shivered hard. "Christ, I shouldn't have taken Trewaley's file. What a fool."
Finally some clear thinking. "Too late now."
"You think Trewaley sent those guys?"
"Must have. Your Pastor talked to Trewaley's Chief of Staff and the Chief of Staff dispatched the goons."
"You sure the Pastor did that?"
"One hundred percent sure. He obviously wanted to win some brownie points from Trewaley."
"Why?"
"Because Trewaley's a god-botherer who will soon be Prime Minister. The Sunrise Mission would love to have him in debt to it."
A frown. "You know, when I told the Pastor about the file, I thought he'd be more excited - that he'd want me to expose Trewaley. But he went very quiet."
"I bet he did. He doesn't want Trewaley exposed; he wants to suck up to him."
"Shit. But I still can't believe he sold me out like that: I trusted him - I really did."
"He didn't think he was betraying you: he persuaded himself that, when he approached Trewaley, he was doing you a favour."
"How?"
"He thought that, if he promised to muzzle you, Trewaley would leave you alone. But he was being naïve. Trewaley was never going to accept his assurances. The stakes were way too high. So Trewaley's Chief of Staff got those two thugs to follow the Pastor until he led them to you."
"But I belong to his church; he's my Pastor, my friend."
"When you took that file, you stopped having friends."
Arnott sighed and bit his lip. "I guess so. But, if I've got no friends, how can I trust you?"
Gary shrugged. "Your mother paid me to find you. I guess that extends to protecting you. I'll help you get this sorted out."
"You sure?"
"Yes. I'm in too deep now, anyway; I've got no choice."
"Good. You seem, umm, pretty resourceful."
"I used to be a cop - an undercover cop. I've been in plenty of tight situations."
A waiter arrived with their coffees and Gary took a sip.
"Then I guess I've got to trust you."
"I'm afraid you do."
Arnott gulped down some coffee. "So, you reckon the guys who attacked us work for Trewaley?"
"I'm sure they do."
"But what about the two guys I saw outside my apartment when I tried to sneak back in?"
"They must work for Merton."
Arnott shivered hard. "Shit. You mean, Trewaley and Merton have both sent thugs after me?"
"Correct. You're a popular guy."
"Do you think they're working together?"
"No idea." Gary sipped his coffee. "You know, I also ran into Merton's thugs, a couple of days ago."
"Really? Where?"
"In your apartment."
"You're kidding?"
"No." Gary explained how he used a key that Madeline Arnott gave him to visit the apartment, where he ran into the two brutes under discussion. He described how, after they knocked him out, he woke and saw a body at the bottom of the empty pool.
Arnott looked alarmed. "You think they threw someone off the balcony?"
"I'm sure they did. Then they tried to pin that on me."
"But there's been nothing on the news about someone getting thrown off an apartment building in Drummoyne."
"That's because the cops don't know he was murdered. They probably don't even realise he fell from your apartment."
Arnott looked worried. "Do you, umm, know his name?"
Gary had been dreading this moment. But someone had to give Arnott the bad news. "Yes, he was Tony Tam, your neighbour."
Arnott went white as a sheet, grabbed his mouth in case he threw up and dashed into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he stumbled out, shaking and looking cadaverous. He slumped down, smelling faintly of vomit. "Shit, that's terrible."
"I know. You knew him well?"
"Yes. His parents live in Hong Kong. I think they're very wealthy. They sent him down here to get an MBA. We were good friends. I gave him the key to my apartment. Sometimes, when I was away, he popped in to feed my cat, Oscar. After I ran away, I phoned and asked him to do that. I mean, I didn't think the guys outside would notice."
"They obviously did."
"Christ. And now he's dead and it's all my fault."
Patrick Arnott didn't throw Tony Tam off the balcony. But he put the poor guy in harm's way for the sake of a cat. Gary already suspected that Arnott was selfish and naïve. This revelation nailed that down. Still, if he chastised Arnott, the guy would probably fall apart. That was the last thing he needed. "It wasn't your fault. The thugs threw him off the balcony, not you."
"I put him in that position."
How true. "You didn't understand how vicious they could be."
A sigh. "I guess so. Still, I feel rotten. And tell me, when you were in the apartment, did you see Oscar?"
"The cat?"
"Yes."
Jesus. His best friend was murdered and he worried about his cat. "Yes, umm, I saw a cat, sitting on the balcony railing, I think."
"How did he look?"
"I don't know. It was dark. He was just sitting there."
"I'm very worried about Oscar."
"Why?"
"He must be starving. Tony probably fed him a few times before he got killed. So Oscar probably hasn't eaten for days. I've got to go back to the apartment and feed him."
Christ, was this guy for real? Gary's anger bubbled over. "Are you kidding? You sent Tony Tam to feed the cat and he got murdered, and if you try to feed the cat, you'll probably get murdered. It's just a cat. Forget about it - it's caused enough trouble. It'll have to take its chances."
A frown and reluctant shrug. "I guess you're right."
"Of course, I'm right. Right now, you should focus on getting even with Merton and protecting yourself."
"Protecting myself? How?"
/> "The only way to guarantee your safety is to release the file. Once it's public, the bad guys won't have a reason to kill you. Indeed, killing you would authenticate the file."
"But they'll want revenge."
"They'll have too much on their plates to worry about that."
"OK. You'll help me release it?"
"Of course."
A suspicious stare. "Why?"
A shrug. "Trewaley and Merton have really pissed me off."
A tentative smile. "Good. But how do we release it?"
"I've got to think about that. Where is it right now?"
Arnott reached into his top pocket and pulled out a yellow USB flash drive. "There's a copy on here."
"Is that the only copy?"
"Of course not."
"Where are the others?"
A suspicious look. "You don't need to know."
A shrug. "I guess so. Now, what are we going to do about your mother?
"What do you mean?"
"She's worried sick about you. I want to tell her that you're alive and well."
"If you do, you'll have to tell her that I got myself into a huge mess. I don't want that. She already thinks I'm pretty stupid. You'll just confirm that."
Gary realised that, if he approached Madeline Arnott, he would have to explain that her son was in mortal peril and she couldn't see him until the danger passed. She would probably become hysterical and go to the police. He had to avoid that at all costs.
He said: "Alright, let's wait until after you've released the file and the coast is clear. That won't be long."
"OK."
"Now, you've got to lay low until we release it. You can stay at my apartment tonight if you want."
"Thanks."
"But, right now, I've got a chore to do. Will you be alright on your own for a while? I'll meet you back here in, say, two hours. Then we'll go to my apartment."
"What's this chore?"
When Gary was a cop, he arrested lots of cretins who were convicted because they didn't dispose of incriminating evidence. He resolved that, if he ever committed a serious crime, he wouldn't be so stupid. Well, that moment had arrived. He didn't think the thug he shot in Alexandria would report him to the police. But, just in case he did, Gary wanted to dispose of the pistol in his possession and wash any gun-shot residue off his skin and clothes.
He didn't want to leave Patrick Arnott alone, because Arnott seemed rather immature. But he didn't want the guy tagging along and getting in his way, either. In the end, he decided to leave Arnott on his own. Surely, the guy couldn't get into much trouble.
Gary said: "You don't need to know. But don't worry; I'll be back here in two hours, OK? Make sure you are too."
A nod. "I'll be here."
"Good. Have a cup of coffee; do some shopping. But don't contact anyone you know. I'll see you in two hours."
"Sure."
Gary left Arnott in the coffee shop and drove over to his apartment. It was highly unlikely the bad guys knew his identity and were staking out the place. But, just in case, he approached his front door with the pistol extended, ready for trouble. He carefully examined the lock. No sign it had been picked or forced. He unlocked the door, pushed it open and entered with the pistol on duty.
It took him five minutes to slide through the apartment, heart thumping, and establish there was no intruder. As his pulse slowed, he grabbed a couple of large plastic bags from the kitchen and some fresh clothes from the bedroom.
In the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and put them in a plastic bag. Then he scrubbed his body under the shower to remove any trace elements. He dried off and put on the fresh clothes.
After putting the thug's pistol in the other plastic bag, he went into the bedroom and pulled off a loose skirting board. In the cavity behind it was a small biscuit tin. Inside the tin were an untraceable Smith & Wesson .357 with a spare clip and a shoulder holster. He put on the shoulder holster and tucked the pistol inside it. Then he took a roomy blue linen jacket out of the wardrobe and slipped it on.
He carried the two plastic bags down to his van and drove around until he saw a Salvation Army collection bin. He pushed the plastic bag with his old clothes into the bin, but kept the bag with the hot pistol.
His drove over to the Rose Bay jetty, parked in its small car park and waited for the next ferry to pull up. While waiting, he listened to a news bulletin on ABC Radio. No mention of a shooting in Alexandria. That was hardly surprising. The guy he shot was probably still trying to call an ambulance.
After twenty minutes, a ferry from the city centre rounded a headland and chugged towards the jetty. A seaplane took off, banked left and climbed over it.
Gary slipped the plastic bag holding the pistol inside his jacket. Then he joined the half-dozen people waiting to board the ferry.