The Son (29 page)

It was too late after Considine had left to go back to the apartments that night. I needed to keep a low profile, keep my comings and goings to daylight hours, when I was less likely to be noticed. I rang the two women, checked they were comfortable, stayed home, did some more thinking.

On Monday I went to work as usual. So did Vivien, coming in from the apartment via her flat in Greenwich. I found it hard to concentrate, managed to conduct a couple of interviews without afterwards remembering anything of the applicants. I went out, made more purchases, tried to ring Roger, finally got him at work late that afternoon. He told me he was coming up to Sydney again the next day, for another meeting, but quickly pre-empted any attempt to get myself invited.

‘Sorry Paul, this one you can't attend. It's just a working meeting. But I can see you straight after, if you're free. I can come to your office about eleven thirty or twelve.'

‘Have you heard from Eric?' I asked.

‘We'll talk about that tomorrow.'

He hung up before I could say anything else.

That night I debated whether to stay home, in case Considine rang again. But it was time to start acting my part. I checked with Vivien, went home, packed another case, put on the kind of conservative clothes Maisie's rural offspring might wear, and went to the apartments. Maisie met me downstairs, playing her role like a trooper.

‘Jonathan. Come up. You're just in time for dinner.'

The apartment was on the seventh floor. I moved into the second bedroom, unpacked. We ordered take away, watched television. I discreetly explored the building. There was more reconnoitering to be done, but it would have to wait until Tuesday afternoon, when the first VIPs arrived, and I would have to rely on Maisie and Viv for that. That night I slept badly, thinking of Hao. I wondered how she was getting on in Leeds.

On Tuesday I was up before six. The two sisters were still asleep. I wanted to ring Hao, but didn't want to do it from the apartment. I left them a note and went out for a walk, found a phone booth in Martin Place. It should be seven thirty pm in Leeds. Her phone didn't answer. I caught a taxi, went home, changed into my normal clothes, had breakfast, rang again at seven, and again at eight. That would be ten pm there. She must have gone out with friends. I went to the office, tried a fourth time at nine, still no answer. Give it up, I told myself, you're getting obsessive.

Vivien came in at ten, looking relaxed.

‘You were up early,' she commented. ‘Everything alright? You look tired.'

‘I never sleep well in strange beds.'

I spent the morning waiting for Roger's visit. At twelve thirty he rang, to say he couldn't make it. The meeting had dragged on, he had to rush back to Canberra.

‘I have to see you, Roger!' I said. ‘We need to talk about what's happening.'

‘You'd better come to the airport then. We can talk there before my flight.'

He gave me his flight number and time. I took a taxi, rushed to the departure lobbies in the Qantas domestic terminal, caught up with him as he waited for his flight to be called. Barely time for a quick conversation. We moved out of hearing of the other passengers. He looked harassed, and if I hadn't been so keyed up myself I might have felt sorry for him.

‘Have you heard from Eric?' I asked.

‘Not since Friday. I gather Considine told you about that meeting.'

‘He mentioned it. He said Eric was supposed to ring in as soon as he came back from the hills. He hasn't rung in at all?'

‘I wish he'd stick to his job!' he said irritably. ‘No, we're still waiting to hear. But that doesn't mean anything. He's probably still up there.'

‘What about the restaurant? Is anyone monitoring it to see if he's back?'

‘Bob Maynard's covering that. There's been no sign of him there either.'

‘I hope they know what they're doing.'

‘Of course they do! What do you think, that we're a bunch of amateurs? All it means is that he hasn't come back to town yet. They're probably keeping him on ice until the last moment. He'll be back tonight or tomorrow morning. Stop worrying! He'll turn up.'

‘Yes, but that may be too late. Too late even to get in touch. What happens if you don't hear from him in time? What do you do then?'

‘If that happens we'll play it by ear. We'll have everything covered, there's no way he can get in close without our knowing it. If we don't hear from him first, we'll wait until we see him and then we'll simply move in and grab him and take it from there!'

‘And hope no one gets shot in the process! That's hardly good enough, is it!'

‘What else do you want us to do?'

‘You could have stepped in earlier! When he reported on Friday! You could have stopped the whole thing there and then! Why didn't you? Why are you waiting until the last minute?'

He shook his head.

‘And why are you stopping Considine from doing his job properly? What are you up to, Roger?'

‘Christ! He has been talking, hasn't he!'

‘I'm glad someone has! It seems to me he's got a point!' I was fuming, with frustration and anger. ‘I hope to God nothing's happened to Eric. What if they've got wind of something and simply got rid of him? Have you thought about that possibility?'

‘Of course we have!' he snapped. ‘What do you think? We're not stupid either! But they won't have done that. You were right at that meeting. They need him, that's what they need him for, because of what he looks like. So stop worrying! He knows what he's doing. He was fine on Friday. He'll come through!'

His flight was announced. Passengers stood up and started to mill towards the gate. He picked up his briefcase.

‘What about Bach?' I said urgently. ‘Have you heard back from them yet?'

He hesitated. I sensed he was holding something back, but even in his predicament he was reluctant to lie outright.

‘Come on Roger! I was the one who suggested you try them!'

‘Yes, we got something back. Not much.'

‘What did they say?'

‘Not much, I told you. They did look at him, you were right, he did apply to go to the States. But they knocked him back. That's all they could tell us. They had to dig through all their records to get that far. That's why it took them so long. No big deal. Nothing there to help us. Sorry, I've got to go.'

‘But why did they knock him back? They must have had a reason!'

‘They didn't say.' He looked straight at me as he said that, and I knew then that he was lying. Professional liars look you in the eye when they're telling you a fib. ‘Who knows anyway? They didn't take everyone, you know. Maybe they thought he was already accepted here. You know what a bugger's muddle those refugee camps were like, agencies falling over themselves in all directions, it's a wonder anyone got through sometimes.'

He started to move off, but I called after him.

‘I think I should ring him.'

He turned round and came back to me. He looked furious.

‘Don't even think of it!' he hissed. ‘That's the worst thing you could possibly do! Stay right out of it, Paul. You've done your bit, everyone's grateful to you for it, but now you're fast becoming a pain in the arse! So stay away, go home, do nothing. Let us handle it. We've done more delicate things before and you know it. Otherwise you'll give us no choice but to have you arrested. For his safety and yours.'

He nodded curtly and strode off. I looked after him, aghast, and close to fury myself. I knew very well what I had to do, and it wasn't going to be to stay home.

I took a train back to North Sydney. This exercise was starting to cost. I sat in the office that afternoon, my mind in a whirl, wishing I could talk to someone, someone who could help me think rationally instead of worrying myself sick. But there was no one, I couldn't talk to Viv or Maisie, that would only frighten them out of their wits. I thought of ringing Considine, to check if he'd heard anything, but decided to wait until morning. More and more I knew I'd been right to make the preparations I had.

Viv left, and at five I packed up and went to the apartments, getting in without attracting attention. The two women were in the sitting room comparing notes. They'd done their job well: Viv had explored the building, on the pretext of getting off on the wrong floor, and Maisie had sat in the lobby from mid afternoon, reading a book while ostensibly waiting for her sister to arrive. When a group of Asian men in suits arrived instead she put her book away and made her way slowly to the lift, as if to go up too. The lift was too crowded and she waited patiently for it to come back down, noting that it had stopped at the third floor. The day manager had accompanied the party, and another Australian who looked like a security man. Viv confirmed this: she had wandered from floor to floor, looking vaguely dotty, and noted activity there, people moving in and out of a suite of rooms, Asians with luggage, who she said didn't look or sound Japanese (she and Maisie had once holidayed in Kyoto.) I surmised this was the advance party, with an escort from their consulate. Loc himself and his chief companions weren't due until the next day.

That evening I took them out to dinner, and we came back to the flat and played poker for an hour or so before going to bed. We played for fun, with small change, which was just as well as otherwise they would have skinned me. I did my best to be calm. I suggested that the next evening they should go off together, see a show – the Phantom of the Opera was on – stay out late, even spend the night at Viv's place in Greenwich.

‘Don't you think we should stay here?' Maisie said. ‘In case you need someone to keep watch?'

‘No, it's best if you stay away. If anything happens I don't want you to be involved. If you're not here you can always say you knew nothing about it.'