Cut to the Chase (12 page)

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Authors: Ray Scott

Tags: #Fiction - Thriller

BOOK: Cut to the Chase
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Some of Wallace's enmity evaporated and he waved his hand grumpily at the whisky bottle. McKay poured himself a generous measure.

‘I'm not getting involved with any bloody capers like I did in Jakarta,' Wallace said pointedly. ‘That one took years off my life.'

‘Oh?' McKay raised one eyebrow. ‘What was that?'

Wallace gave him a brief run down, that Jakarta incident still rankled and he welcomed the opportunity of battering somebody's ear drums with it and giving his opinion of Bramble.

‘There was nothing much to it then!' McKay commented.

‘Oh yes there damn well was, it was bloody frightening at the time,' Wallace snapped angrily. ‘I'm not even doing it for a living, maybe if I was James Bond I might enjoy being chased by sixteen stone thugs.'

‘You get used to it,' McKay said loftily.

‘Oh do you, well here's one who has no intention of getting used to it or anything like it,' Wallace rapped out. ‘Oh, don't bother to ask, just help yourself!'

‘Thanks, I will,' McKay grinned broadly as he poured himself a second glass of whisky. ‘Pity, because we did have one small task for you.'

‘Yes I know, Bramble mentioned it to me. Well you know what you can do with it.'

‘There will be someone at the Asian Society meeting who lives just down the road from the meeting place. He will probably contact you.'

‘What? This doesn't sound like the job he mentioned.'

‘What was that?'

‘Never mind.'

‘As I said, this man will probably contact you.'

‘Oh no he won't, I'm having nothing to do with it,' Wallace snapped. ‘This is your area, not mine! Why can't you do it?'

‘Because I'd be recognised and you won't,' said McKay. ‘In any case, it's you he wants to speak to.'

‘Why the hell should he want to speak with me?'

‘You have a mutual acquaintance.'

‘Who is that?'

‘No idea, he didn't say. There's nothing to worry about.'

‘That's what Major Lincoln said in Jakarta. Nothing to worry about, nobody would know who I was. It'll be a piece of cake. Pigs arse it was and a fat lot of good it did me. I finished up being chased all over Jakarta by hairy arsed security police! Just forget it and piss off!'

Wallace was quite pleased with the applause, the size of the audience was greater than it had been at the Indonesia – Australia Society in Jakarta, and it went on for about two minutes. He rose from his chair and bowed acknowledgement and then sat down again. The MC indicated to somebody in the audience who then rose and proposed a vote of thanks. This brought forth further applause.

There was a brief announcement by the chairman, he gave the date of the next meeting and details of the next month's speaker, gave some information about taking care as they left and the meeting began to break up. There were a few who wished to have further words with Wallace and after about twenty minutes there was just one left. He shook Wallace by the hand and smiled.

‘Mr Wallace, we have a mutual friend.'

‘Oh!' Wallace replied, on his guard at once.

‘Yes, you met him briefly at a meeting in Jakarta, and you had a few words with him, he then had to leave somewhat precipitously.'

‘Shit!'

‘Pardon? What was that?'

‘Oh…um…I admit…I mean…yes I remember.'

‘He passes on his felicitations and wished me to tell you that he managed to exit the building successfully, and that he is in the best of health.'

‘Good!' Wallace replied and meant it. He didn't like to think of anyone being in the hands of those Jakarta thugs or any of their associates. Further, if he got away successfully there was less chance of Wallace being compromised.

‘I would esteem it an honour if you would care to come with me to my apartment. It is only just down the road.'

‘I…er…!' Wallace hesitated and then subjected the other man to a searching examination. He was a grey haired man with a brown complexion, clearly Asian, probably Indian in origin, and he wore rimless spectacles. He had a look about him that seemed sincere and honest. Further, what was it that McKay had said about the contact living just down the road from the meeting place? ‘Yes all right.'

When they had reached his apartment and he had offered Wallace some coffee, he still appeared to be a sincere and honest man, but after the experience in Jakarta Wallace was still wary of anyone, however affable he appeared. There was a map of the former East Indies on the wall and a painting on the wall that had a definite Indonesian look about it.

‘You didn't seem to be pleased to see me at the Society.'

‘No' Wallace admitted. ‘I was not. When I was in your country I became involved in something that I knew little about and resolved that I would have nothing to do with anything similar in the future.'

‘A praiseworthy sentiment,' he nodded approvingly. ‘I wish that I could say the same, but it is different for me, it's my country.'

‘Why are you in London?'

‘I live here, I work at the university – I am a lecturer – of sorts,' he smiled. ‘There is much interest these days shown by European youth in countries such as mine, I sometimes wonder if it is a feeling of guilt for the sins of their forbears. To me this is quite pointless, and I deplore those people who think that way and consider it is their duty to propagate that guilt and infect others with it. While the British took over India, and arrogantly assumed that they were better equipped to rule it than its inhabitants, they did bring vast benefits with them such as railways, sewerage systems, roads and a huge reduction in cholera. While the British gained loot and markets, we also gained infrastructure. I am Indian in origin, and my forbears went to the East Indies, as they were then, to make a living, and they did well out of it. Yet I feel no guilt about the original inhabitants of the former East Indies – why should I?'

Wallace nodded; he wasn't quite sure where the conversation was leading and was anxious to be away.

‘I am also – what you could almost call – an ambassador. I represent the people of one of the islands, or some of them, those that were forcibly taken over by the Indonesians and annexed into Indonesia. There are efforts to gain freedom and independence from the Indonesians, but unfortunately the rebels are divided amongst themselves into moderates and fundamentalists. There has been some in fighting, not only against the Indonesians.'

‘Yes,' Wallace replied, who was aware of the freedom movements in various islands that wanted to hive off from Indonesia, the separation by East Timor was still fresh in many peoples' memories. Some freedom movements were democratic organisations and others were religious fundamentalists. And like many factional rebel groups, they often seemed to hate each other more than the common enemy. Rather like the factions within the British and Australian political parties.

‘I disagree with violence, I do what I can here in London as a peoples' representative, and there are others like me in Paris, Washington and Canberra and various European cities. We make foreign governments aware of our existence and publicise anything we consider they should know about, and help us which in fact is what you did for us in Jakarta.'

‘Somebody else told me that,' Wallace said with some bitterness.

‘There was a report of an occurrence, I won't compromise you by telling you what it was, in our island that did not reflect well upon our…er…government…or should I say house guests or over-lords…and they didn't want it to leak out. Thanks to you, it did.'

‘I see,' Wallace said lamely. He didn't – but couldn't think what else to say as he paused.

‘I merely wished to thank you on behalf of our movement. I know that you had a frightening time in Jakarta.'

‘How would you know that?'

‘My friends were not far away,' the other man said and smiled. ‘They were not far away when you were going around with your American friends. You showed much initiative in the manner in which you reached your embassy.'

‘Good God!' Wallace was thunderstruck.

‘Um…yes,' he smiled again. ‘I have been well apprised of what happened to you in Jakarta, prior to your arrival here in London. You had friends near to you all the time.'

Wallace was not sure whether that was comforting news or not. He jibbed at the thought of being in a foreign capital with the official police either tailing or chasing him, and with ostensibly friendly anti-government forces who were in turn tailing them. Men had finished up in prison cells, labour camps or in front of firing squads for less, plus the danger of being in the crossfire had a fire fight broken out between the warring parties. He also had a pretty good idea who would have won in the event of a fire fight… the police…which would have increased Wallace's prospective prison sentence by about fifteen years!

His companion was an engaging individual and Wallace found that he was beginning to like him more and more the longer he stayed. When the time came for him to leave the other man escorted Wallace to the pavement outside where they stood chatting for some minutes.

‘Maybe one day I can return to my country, but at present I am far safer here. I am not popular in certain circles, and I am not talking only of the Jakarta government.'

They shook hands and parted, Wallace heading for the Underground station at the corner of the block. He looked at the man's card under the lights of the station as he entered it. His name was Ananda Ravindran, as he had said he was clearly of Indian extraction, and he described himself as a University lecturer.

Wallace was half way through the presentation to Barclays, on the subject of banking in Australia and the question of admission of foreign banks, when he caught sight of Kalim. He was about five tables back from the front, as Wallace's eyes rested on him he raised one hand, waggled his fingers and smiled. While Wallace continued, after momentarily losing his thread which he rectified after a hasty glance at his notes, he recalled that Kalim had told him months ago that he would be in London at the same time as Wallace. Any butterflies Wallace experienced at seeing him thus dissipated.

Kalim buttonholed Wallace afterwards and shook his hand warmly.

‘Good to see you again, Mr Wallace,' he said.

‘Yes indeed,' Wallace replied. ‘You are here on behalf of your company?'

‘My company – oh yes, they asked me to attend the session, Barclays have a finger in most pies these days, they have considerable interests and I am involved in their overseas investment area.'

They chatted on for a few more minutes and then parted. He promised to ring Wallace the following day and arrange a meeting. Then someone else locked onto Wallace but as the conversation commenced with a gentleman from a Lloyds underwriting syndicate Wallace was aware that his mind had registered something that jarred and he could not think what it was. The more he tried to pinpoint it the further away it seemed to get, rather like trying to remember last night's dream.

Kalim telephoned the next night and arranged to meet Wallace for dinner. They had a very good night reminiscent of their night in Jakarta. Kalim was as entertaining as ever, and when Wallace finally returned to the hotel he was not only decidedly merry but also exhilarated by the company of the man. He turned in and slept like a log.

Wallace had another assignment the following evening; this was the last one that Saul Prosser had arranged for him in London. Saul telephoned the next morning and asked Wallace to call in to his office sometime. Wallace did so and when he arrived Prosser pushed some papers across the desk.

‘This came from John Springfield in New York this morning. It could be a useful one although it's about a couple of months ahead. It's a three day seminar being run on behalf of Texaco, there is a vacant slot on the second day and John reckons you could fill it. They are interested in oil exploration on the north-west shelf of Australia and this should stimulate interest.'

‘Good. That sounds OK to me.'

‘Yes, you don't need to be an oil expert, they don't need any advice or information on how and where to drill, they know that already. What they will be interested in are items of general interest, a bit of Australiana, something like the flora and fauna on Rottnest Island, the mystery about HMAS Sydney, the Australian light cruiser that was sunk with all hands in the area in 1941. Americans will be interested in that, especially since the ship was recently found, and its loss just pre-dated Pearl Harbor.'

‘Yes, I recently read a lot about that.'

‘Also many American tourists are appearing in places like Broome, Derby and Darwin, and maybe the fleshpots of Perth.'

‘Are you suggesting I have an intimate knowledge of those?'

‘Of course,' Saul grinned broadly. ‘What else is there to do on hot nights?'

‘Well I…well, yes, you're right,' Wallace answered and they both chortled.

‘But there is one snag,' Saul continued. ‘They require a guarantee that you'll be there, and it's too late to fix up any insurance to that effect. If you fail to arrive not only is the fee forfeit - obviously – but they can hit you for their own expenses as well. It may not necessarily be a king's ransom but nevertheless it will be money, since it would entail finding and hiring another presenter at short notice.'

‘Who will want recompense? Texaco?' As Wallace uttered the name of the company there was that jarring again, something nearly formed in his mind and then evaporated.

‘No, the agency that has been making all the arrangements for the seminar. If they have to sign anyone else up at short notice it could be expensive.'

‘Well, it seems OK to me. Bloody hell! For a moment I thought you meant that Texaco would hit me for their expenses of laying on the seminar.'

Saul grinned and shook his head.

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