The next morning - a Friday - Gary drove a hire car along the Georges River, looking for Pringle's cabin cruiser. He eventually found it tied up at a marina with about fifty other boats.
The following morning he returned, parked the car on a nearby hill and watched the marina. Just after nine, Pringle parked an old Lexus in its car park and got out, wearing a polo shirt, chino shorts and canvas sneakers. Gary hadn't seen him for a few years. But he hadn't changed much. Though now in his early fifties, he still had a razor-sharp face and athletic build. He obviously worked out.
As Pringle walked along a wooden jetty to his cabin cruiser, carrying an esky and fishing rod, Gary strolled down to the marina. When Pringle unlocked the cabin of his boat and carried the esky inside, Gary sprinted up the jetty and stepped onto the deck of the boat.
Pringle emerged from the cabin and Gary stuck a pistol in his face. "Hello, Brian. Long time, no see."