CHAPTER FIVE
Stanton made his way out of the terminal. He knew Kevin Sharp was a creature of habit and would be at his office at eight o five am in Canberra. He suddenly remembered Jodi had mentioned she spoke to Holmes in Newcastle Monday when he visited for a chat. He hurried to his car, drove on to the roof of the multi-storey car park and looked up Sharp’s private mobile number. He pushed a button on the central dash of his Mustang and a lap top computer dropped from the front central roof and turned itself on. He then opened a small dish antenna from the glove compartment, attached its cable to the computer and put it on the roof, securing it with the magnet base. He activated an icon on the computer desktop, somewhat awkward as the computer was difficult to access from the driver's seat. He punched Sharp’s mobile number into the computer and could hear it ring on the computer monitor. It rang eight times and went to message bank. Stanton had counted on this and let the system trace the call’s pick up tower. Bingo, the phone was in Sydney; if the phone was in Sydney so was Sharp. The phone had picked up from a Kirribilli tower on the northern shore of the Sydney Harbour bridge.
Stanton thought for a while, he deduced Sharp had talked to Holmes and somehow been spooked, but why? He was sure Sharp would have some information as he was the one who processed sanctions outside of official business. He decided to ring Holmes and try for some information. Stanton detested Holmes and knew he had been a paedophile. Holmes also knew Stanton was aware of his past and was petrified of Stanton, Holmes worked for Stanton although Holmes would never admit it. Stanton rang three times before Holmes answered his mobile half asleep.
"Er… Hello, Holmes."
"Wake up Holmes, this is Stanton."
"John, I… I haven't done anything, honestly."
"You spoke to Jodi when you were in Newy, yes?"
"Yes but there's nothing between us, just a social....."
"Shut up. Did you see Sharp yesterday?" Holmes began to wake up and he remembered Jodi's picture on Sharp’s desk.
"I saw a picture of Jodi on Sharp’s desk that's all I can tell you John. I thought it was a bit strange; he didn't seem to know she was your wife as he referred to her as Simpson the journalist." Stanton was silent for a few seconds.
"No matter what you do for me Holmes, one day you'll pay for what you did. Till then just keep living in fear like your victims." He hung up. Holmes would probably let Sharp know of Stanton's call in the morning but Holmes’ phone was not in Sydney so he was probably home in Canberra; too far for Stanton to trace with his mobile equipment. Holmes would have to be direct as the information was discreet and ruled out a phone call to Sharp in case it was monitored. Sharp had an office at Kirribilli not far from the Prime Minister’s Sydney residence, Kirribilli house. The entire top floor of an apartment block ten stories high overlooking Kirribilli and the harbour; it was manned all the time the Prime Minister was in residence but seldom used if he was not. If something fishy was going on it would be a perfect place for Sharp to be. Stanton returned to Circular Quay and took his launch to the Marie Celeste; he showered and got some sleep.
His wrist alarm woke him at five; he dressed in plain grey trousers, black shoes, white shirt and a black leather jacket. It was just getting light and he took the launch to Luna Park on the north bank wharf and walked under the bridge to the apartment block on the corner of Kirribilli and Carrabelle streets. Stanton knew the security set up well as he had helped design it as a consultant some years before and things had not changed much. He knew the caretaker left the underground car park stairwell door open all the time so he didn't have to let the cleaners in and out. He slipped through a car park vent with a broken latch; it had been like it for years and although he had mentioned it in a report it had not been classified as high enough risk to warrant repair. It was also a long drop to the car park floor, four metres. Stanton lowered himself to his fingertips and let go, landing quietly on his feet he found the door unlocked. He made his way up the stairwell to the top floor and went along to the corner office Sharp used. The office door locks all ran a card system that logged access ID and times into a central computer when used. Stanton had entered a default code in the system when he designed it that logged nothing when used just in case. He put his card in the slot and found his hidden code still active. He sat down in the corner behind the door in a high back revolving chair and waited.
Sharp’s government Holden accessed the underground car park at exactly eight am. He put his key card in his door at 8:05. He walked directly to his desk, awkwardly putting his brief case down next to his chair as he was carrying a cup of takeaway coffee. He walked to the full wall height corner window and surveyed the view sipping the coffee. Stanton turned his chair around to face the window and spoke.
"Nice morning Kevin." Sharp dropped his coffee down the front of his shirt and spun around, looking Stanton in the face. He said nothing; just stared and went pale. Stanton stood up and took a picture from his inside jacket pocket. "Recognise this person Sharp?"
"No, I can’t say that I do," Sharp said softly.
Stanton walked closer holding the picture in front of his face. "Some woman."
Stanton punched Sharp in the chest, sending him crashing across the desk. He picked Sharp up by the shirt lapels and looked him in the face; Sharp gasped for breath. "Some woman," yelled Stanton. "You're right she is some woman. My x- wife. What were you thinking Sharp? You will tell me who. Were any pictures sent out of the rest of my family? I came to kill you Sharp so if you want justice open up and I’ll take care of it for you."
"You think you can solve things by killing people John?"
"Yes, I learnt it from you lot, now I will count to ten and it will hurt."
"Stop, stop." Sharp staggered to his desk and sat down putting his face in his hands. He looked at Stanton after a few seconds, his thin face raked with tears. "John I have a family."
"Me too, doesn't seem to have affected your judgement."
"John you're getting in deep John, go home before it's too late."
"You really don't know the truth do you Kev? I've done this all my life, I know so much about what's gone on; I’ve stashed the world’s biggest insurance policy. You masquerade as AFP but I know you’re an ASIO operative Sharp, you know something. My accumulated information, pictures and film clips could bring down all of the major western governments bar none. Even the Chinese have decided I could be an asset. I was a young soldier proud of what I did. I lost all my friends, all of them. I lost my family. I was always doing someone's dirty work. I grew older, wiser and saw the writing on the wall. I'm the world's biggest walking computer on greed and corruption in governments all over the planet, you know that Sharp. I knew one day they would try and turn on me. It's the nature of the beast; power and greed, so I got ready. I got ready when I realised I stood for nothing, a puppet. I know you're just trying to get on with things Kev but times have changed. Some will be the perpetrators of their own doom. I just want to be left alone but it's too late now. Now who?" Sharp stood up and walked to the window staring at the sky; he turned around and looked at Stanton.
"If I knew I’d tell you John, but I don't." Stanton stepped sideways and delivered a side kick to Sharp’s chest, sending him smashing through the glass window and freefalling ten stories, he landed on a car roof in the street, setting off its alarm. Stanton walked to the window’s edge and looked down Sharp’s body. He picked up Sharp’s case and casually left the building, walking up the car park access ramp and out into the street. Stanton took the harbour side walkway all the way along to Luna Park and mounted his motor launch. He could hear sirens from all directions as he powered away from the wharf and went directly to Circular Quay.
Stanton sat in the driver seat of his Mustang under cover of his wharf shed thinking for a while. It was time to see his sons. So long, so much water under the bridge. The last he had seen them they had graduated from university and gone straight into their own law practice in Sydney. Jodi had kept him away from them and they
were unaware he was the one that financed their start in business. He had no idea what they thought of him or even if they knew who he really was. He left his car and got a taxi to George Street outside the high rise that housed his sons’ practice. He paid the cab driver and looked at the name over the revolving glass doors. Stanton and Stanton barristers and solicitors in bold, gold writing. He entered the foyer and took the lift to the top floor on advice from the security guard in the foyer; he noted their casual manner. He walked down the long corridor past many offices with people milling around in discussion to a desk in front of two individual doors bearing his sons’ names. A well-groomed middle aged female greeted him from behind the ornate wooden furnishing.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm here to see Anthony and Robert."
"You have an appointment?"
"No."
"I'm sorry sir they are very busy and only see people on appointment and then after an appraisal meeting with a member of our staff."
Stanton smiled. "That's great, exactly what I’d do, nearly foolproof."
"I beg your pardon sir?"
"Could you tell them their father is here to see them?" The receptionist looked blank and picked up the phone.
"You better get up here we have a problem." Stanton realised she had called security and stood directly in front of the desk smiling and motionless. He could hear the security personnel running down the hallway. A burly guard in uniform with islander appearance spoke from behind Stanton, no more than two metres away. Stanton turned round and looked both guards in the face.
"You're too close and you have not covered your backs with the wall. Didn't they teach you anything when you did your training?" They eyed Stanton and backed up to the wall.
"You will have to leave sir," said the burly guard.
"I came to see my sons."
"What is your name sir?" the guard asked.
"Stanton, John Stanton."
"Sir we will call the police if you persist," added the receptionist.
"I’ll ask again, can you get my sons for me please? I have done nothing wrong, no law against me wanting to see them. I appreciate your effort in protecting them but I'm a busy man." The burly guard persisted.
"I will have to throw you out if you do not comply sir."
"Mmmm," grinned Stanton. The guard attempted to grab Stanton by the arm and his back up by the other. Stanton took the burly guard first forcing his arm round his back with his right arm and drawing the guard's pistol from its holster with his left as he spun him round, he threw the pistol to the floor and kneed the burly guard in the small of the back sending him moaning to the floor. The second guard pulled his revolver and backed up to the wall pointing it directly at Stanton at eye level. Stanton walked over the guard on the floor to within inches of the end of the gun barrel and started laughing.
"Your pistol will have to be loaded for it to be effective," said Stanton. The guard turned the pistol to one side to look at the front of the chambers and Stanton disarmed him in a split second, throwing the pistol on the floor and pushing him up against the wall. He returned to the front of the desk.
"Now can I see my sons please?" The door with Anthony Stanton written in gold upon the oak timber opened and Anthony stood in the doorway. His blue eyes looked at Stanton and he paused as they stared at each other for a few seconds. A giant of a man, six foot three, olive complexion, around one hundred and five kilos; muscular build from working out everyday.
"Luckily you have your mother's facial features Tony, but you have my eyes."
"Dad!"
"Yes, son." Anthony ran round the receptionist desk and embraced his father. Stanton held his son tight. Anthony turned to his receptionist still holding his father with one arm.
"Get Robert here immediately."
"He’s in court, the Hanlon murder case."
"I know where he is and I know what he's doing, ring him immediately and tell him dad is here." Stanton saw the genetic connection with his son. He broke hold with Anthony and turned on the guards, the burly one first.
"Get up."
"I think you broke my arm."
"Next time might be your neck so work on it." He turned to the other guard. "Don't draw a firearm unless you intend to use it. If you can't use it throw it away and try something else like flower arranging."
"I'm sure it was loaded."
"It is, now pick it up and put it away. You two idiots go down to the lobby and don't let anyone in here that you don't know, including the police or I’ll kick your arse all the way down George Street."
"We can't stop the police coming in here sir."
"If the police want to come in here they will need a warrant, if they don't have one I will escort them out if you don't."
"Yes sir, we’re onto it." The guards walked briskly towards the lift. The receptionist spoke to Anthony.
"Robert is on his way, he's very excited." Anthony put his hand on the receptionist’s shoulder.
"I could imagine, Janine meet your father-in-law."
"She's your wife?"
"No she's Robert's wife, mine comes in of an afternoon." Janine stood up to shake Stanton's hand. He pulled her over the desk and gave her a hug holding on to the cheeks of her behind. He let her go.
"Nice arse."
Janine half smiled at him. "Yes you're their father all right."