by K W Frost
As soon as Child was out of Raewyn’s line of sight he got to work. Child placed bugs in the telephone, under the armrest of one of the informal chairs and under Whittingham’s desk. The small ultra-powered transmitter bug looked just like a type of black shiny beetle commonly found in the Auckland area. Child placed a bug high up at the top of the window frame so the moveable curtain that was in front of the window hid it. The job was completed in less than five minutes. Although he was conscious of time, the last thing he wanted now was to be here when Whittingham returned.
Child scanned the room one final time. His gaze landed on the wide desk. Something was wrong and felt out of place. What was it? Child paused, allowing his mind time to wander and bring to light what the subconscious had registered.
Then he found it.
Whittingham had been working for most of the morning, yet not a thing on the desk was out of place. Child ignored the computer. He didn’t have time to break the inevitable security codes. It was the blotter — hours of work and not a mark on the paper. Blotters weren’t there to soak up ink spills. There was no fountain pen on the desk. Blotters were there for quick notes, the odd telephone number or even just to doodle while talking on the phone. Child knelt down and inspected the surface of the blotting pad. He could see some slight indents from the previous sheet. Carefully, Child slipped out the next sheet, folded it gently and placed it in his briefcase.
Child exited Whittingham’s office, content with his work.
‘Thanks very much for that, Raewyn,’ he said with a smile. ‘The office is clean as a whistle, nothing for Mr Whittingham to be concerned about. In fact, I’m pretty busy at the moment with APEC as well, so there’s no need for him to contact me. I’ll just send him the bill.’
With that, Child swept out of the reception and into the lift before it had even occurred to Raewyn that he hadn’t left a business card.
Child sat in the cafe with Samantha, slowly sipping on his flat white coffee. He had taken off his jacket as he sat down. They exchanged information and they were now sitting quietly with their own thoughts.
Child looked over his coffee at Samantha, recognising her beauty and noting that any sane man would notice her.
‘Let me take your jacket, Sam,’ he offered. Samantha looked back at Child with a silent question. Child took her jacket and placed it over the third chair at their table.
‘Whittingham got a good look at you in the reception area, so he could easily recognise you again,’ Child said. ‘Put your hair up and pull it over to one side. Take my sunglasses and put them on too. I know it’s not much but it may be enough to fool
Whittingham at a glance.’
‘Why are you doing all this?’ asked Samantha.
‘Doing what?’
Samantha’s unexpected question pulled Child’s gaze away from the Regent’s entrance as he turned to face her.
‘Why are you going after Whittingham?’
‘Because I don’t like scum,’ answered Child, honestly. ‘If we went to the police with what has happened now, no one would believe us. We have no real proof yet. Whittingham would just deny everything and walk away unscathed.’
‘No, he wouldn’t,’ Samantha argued. ‘They’ll investigate him and something would come up. At least there would be pressure on him to stop all this business.’
‘No,’ stressed Child. ‘He’s made it personal now. For some reason he wants me dead and that’s not going to go away. Do you know what it feels like to be treated like a piece of dirt? He treated me like I was nothing — just garbage to be disposed of. He sees me as something he didn’t want to dirty his hands with.’
Child looked around the cafe, checking that they were not being overheard. He leaned closer to Samantha.
‘Snake said that I’m more important than the computer board now. Why? What have I done?’
‘I don’t know, I just don’t know. That can’t be the only reason you’re pursuing this though?’ Samantha asked gently.
Child looked at Samantha steadily, searching her dark brown eyes. She returned his gaze and reached down to squeeze his hand. Child broke their eye contact.
‘No, no, it’s not the only reason. I want to prove that I can do it. I spent five years training and never had the chance — was never given a chance. So, yes… I want to prove them wrong.’
‘But they’ll never know…’
‘But I will, I’ll know,’ Child explained. ‘I know it sounds crazy but I’ve got to do this for me, for my own self-respect. Besides, it’s too late to back out now.’
Child paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. It was time he told Samantha about the deaths of Jake and Snake.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Whittingham took two deep breaths as he stood outside suite 846. The next couple of hours were going to be the most important in his life, and he needed to get them right.
He knocked twice. Kioki opened the door. His sheer physical bulk alone was intimidating.
‘Mr Whittingham, welcome, I am Kioki, please come in.’
Whittingham had to place his briefcase on the floor before he offered his hand, which was taken and crushed in Kioki’s iron grip. Whittingham had to restrain himself from crying out before slowly entering the hotel suite. The space was typical of the standard rooms seen in a luxury hotel suite, with a king size bed, coffee table, set of chairs and a lounge area in the main reception. A Raymond Ching bird print hung on the wall.
‘Mr. Kioki, on behalf of Hauraki Investments and myself I would like to welcome you to New Zealand. I hope that you had a pleasant flight.’
‘As pleasant as air travel can be,’ replied Kioki. Considering his immense size, Kioki’s voice sounded rather high-pitched to Whittingham, and he spoke English with only a touch of an accent.
‘Please sit down, Mr Whittingham. Would you care for a drink?’
Kioki was playing the gracious host today.
‘Some iced water would be great, thank you,’ replied Whittingham as he seated himself in the lounge area.
Kioki returned to place a small jug of water with floating ice on the table.
‘Did you have an accident, Mr Whittingham?’ Kioki inquired, indicating to the sling.
‘Yes, unfortunately I slipped and fell at a function last night. My shoulder is fine and this is only a precaution, ordered by my doctor.’
Whittingham eased the arm into a more comfortable position.
Kioki went to the bedroom and returned with a laptop. Sitting down on the sofa, he looked frankly at Whittingham.
‘Now, Mr. Whittingham, time for business. Can you give me an update on how things are progressing in New Zealand?’
Whittingham leant forward, trying to maintain eye contact with Kioki, but couldn’t maintain it. The steady gaze of the imposing man sitting opposite him was strangely disturbing.
‘Mr Kioki, things have progressed according to your instructions—’
‘Then you have recovered the component board,’ Kioki interrupted.
‘Well… no, but that’s no longer a consideration, as you instructed me to remove the problem. I’m simply waiting for you to deliver the new component so that it can be installed.’
‘So, you’ve removed the problem?’
Kioki’s stare almost pinned Whittingham to the chair.
‘It will be removed, permanently,’ Whittingham said calmly, showing none of the anxiety he was feeling about sudden Jake’s silence.
‘Will be? It’s not been done already?’
‘Final confirmation should come through at any time. Don’t worry, I have every confidence in the people involved.’
‘You’d better be right.’
‘As I said before, I’m just waiting for the call.’
Whittingham paused and pulled out some detailed plans from his briefcase.
‘Mr Kioki, I’ve had an office set up from which we can work. As instructed it has been rented under an assumed name and paid a month in advance. The office has two roo
ms with both internet and cable linkages. The offices are in a multi-storey office block, so our company will be just another small company with some rented space.’
‘Is the equipment installed?’
‘That was completed this morning. Everything you requested has been installed. I even added a coffee machine for the workers.’
‘There will be no workers.’
‘No workers?’ questioned Whittingham, the surprise evident in his voice. ‘But what about Mr. Tagahasi, the specialist that linked up the electronics?’
‘Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Mr Whittingham. There will be no workers, plural. There will be Mr Tagahasi only. The equipment is designed to be self-sufficient. It monitors and evaluates progress by itself. Mr. Tagahasi can take care of it by himself.’
‘Okay… but would you like to visit the premises yourself?’
‘Yes, indeed. This can be arranged.’
‘Certainly, Mr Kioki it is not far from here — perhaps tomorrow?’
‘Today.’
‘Today?’
‘Today,’ stated Kioki.
‘I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll need to make a few phone calls once I’m back in my office, and then I’ll contact you. It’ll need to be early as the central business area is being closed off tonight in preparation for APEC.’
‘I’m aware of APEC. It is one of the reasons why we are here, Mr Whittingham.’
‘Right, well, if you could give me the new component, I’ll get that installed today. I have a technician waiting for my call.’
Whittingham was frantically trying to speed up the meeting. He felt completely unable to relax in the company of Kioki.
‘That’s why I have this here,’ Kioki gestured towards his laptop. ‘You’ll take this and give it to Mr Tagahasi. He knows where it needs to go, and how to install it correctly. I trust that you have the correct papers organised for Mr Tagahasi to access the Sky Tower?’
‘Yes, that was easy. He’s simply going up as a radio technician to help fix a problem with transmissions.’
‘Good. Tell Mr Tagahasi that I want a static test done at 10pm tonight.’
‘A static test?’
‘Mr Tagahasi is a trained professional, he’ll know what to do.’
Whittingham nodded, his discomfort evident.
‘I don’t really know how to approach this next subject, Mr Kioki,’ he said, tentatively.
‘Money,’ stated Kioki.
‘Yes… now would be a good time to finalise arrangements for payment.’
‘As discussed previously, you will get the sole New Zealand rights for the use of the technology, plus one million U.S. dollars.’
‘Good, good, that’s all as agreed.’
‘The money will be placed in your Geneva account. All you need to do is give me the account number. You do have an untraceable account?’
‘Oh, yes,’ replied Whittingham. ‘I’ll give you the number this afternoon when we meet again.’
Whittingham stood up to leave and opened the front door. Kioki followed him, pushed the door shut again and leant in close.
‘Whittingham,’ he said menacingly, all pretence of politeness now gone. ‘You are taking precautions, aren’t you?’
‘Precautions?’ Whittingham said as Kioki eyes bored into his.
‘I’ve just arranged to give you one million dollars. Take precautions. You don’t want to end up in jail, do you? Make sure there’s no one following you when you come to the office this afternoon. Don’t talk to anyone. Our organisation has made a considerable investment in you, and we don’t want to be disappointed or interfered with, especially by the police. Take precautions.’
‘I am a respected leader here, no one will suspect me,’ Whittingham reassured him with a tight smile. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Kioki.’
He then turned and slipped out of the suite, a confident smile on his face. The smile vanished as soon as he reached the end of the corridor. Damn, Jake — why hadn’t he called?
Chapter Thirty
Child and Samantha sat in the cafe in comfortable silence, reflecting, thinking, each one coming to terms with the situation in their own way. Suddenly, two cellphones beeped almost simultaneously.
Child had replaced his lost one, but kept the same number. The text message simply read: Mission complete. No problems. R.
The other cellphone was Jake’s, which Child had accidentally left switched on. Child glanced at the screen, looked at Samantha and then turned it off.
Just then, Whittingham appeared on the front steps of the Regent Hotel and began to retreat back down the road towards his office. Child picked up Jake’s cellphone and pressed the pre-programmed number.
‘Watch him — I want you to see his reactions,’ he instructed Samantha.
Whittingham’s phone beeped, causing him to stop in his tracks. Awkwardly, he reached into his top pocket with his good arm. He looked down at his caller identification before he answered.
‘It’s about time you called, Jake. I was getting worried. What happened?’
‘Hello, Whittingham.’
Child turned into the cafe, his back facing the road. He didn’t want Whittingham to see any scars or to know how close they were.
‘Who are you?’
‘How’s your arm, Whittingham? I hope it hurts…’
Whittingham gasped and went pale. Something had gone majorly wrong. He knew it could only be one person.
‘Child?’
‘Ah, you remember me,’ Child smirked. ‘I’ve got Jake’s cell phone and your number was on it — that makes it easier to communicate, doesn’t it.’
‘What… what happened to Jake?’ Whittingham said, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
‘You can forget about him. You’ll read about it in the papers tomorrow.’
‘Tell me, now!’ Whittingham snarled, panic turning to rage.
‘I said to forget about him — it’s just you and me now, and I’m coming for you.’
Child kept his voice calm and confident, unsettling Whittingham even further.
‘What do you want from me?’
‘I want nothing from you, Whittingham. I’ve got your name and I’ve got your number. It will not take me long to track you down and when I do, I’ll have you trapped. I hope you’ve made your last will. I’ll be seeing you soon.’
Child ended the call and turned casually back to Samantha, just in time to see Whittingham scurrying down the road, glancing around him wildly.
‘Well, that seems to have got him thinking,’ Child said to Samantha.
‘He’s scared, very scared.’
‘That was the idea, I wanted to rattle him.’
‘Yes, but his reaction was too much… hasn’t this guy got an ice-cold reputation? He was visibly shaking and looking around frantically. He’s scared all right, and not just about you.’
‘What else then? Tell me what else it could’ve been,’ demanded Child.
‘Maybe I’m wrong, Simon,’ Samantha said, looking anxiously after Whittingham as he disappeared from sight. ‘He’s getting away — don’t you want to follow him?’
‘No, I know where he’s going. Now, tell me what makes you think he’s scared about something else?’ Child was quietly insistent.
‘I’m not sure. Maybe it was because he over-reacted,’ she explained. ‘I might be wrong, as I’ve never seen this guy before. He could just be the anxious type.’
‘That’s not his reputation,’ agreed Child. ‘I’ve made a few polite inquiries about him today. Most people say he’s a hard, unscrupulous bastard, but there was no illegal activity that they could prove.’
Child and Samantha both looked across at the area of road where Whittingham had just been.
‘I believe in the subconscious,’ Child continued. ‘The mind often picks up on clues that the conscious doesn’t recognise. People sometimes call it instinct, but I think it’s more than that. Close your eyes for a moment and picture Whittingham earlier on,
right before he went up in the hotel lift. Picture his walk, his stance, what he was wearing, the way his hair was combed. Picture every detail.’
Child paused, allowing time for Samantha to form a clear mental image.
‘Now compare it with the Whittingham you saw coming out of the hotel, just before I rang him… was there any change? Go though each detail one at a time.’
For two minutes Child sipped his coffee while Samantha sat in silence, her eyes closed and her expression passive.
‘The briefcase,’ she spoke at last.
‘What about it?’
‘It is what he was carrying. He went in with one briefcase in his left hand, but when he left he was carrying two: his personal briefcase and then what could’ve been a laptop bag. Also, he repeatedly glanced back towards the hotel while you were talking to him.’
‘Good work, Sam. A laptop… I wonder who gave him that?’
‘From Mr Kioki, I presume. I told you that was who he was going to see.’
‘Yes, of course… this laptop must be important.’
‘Why? There are plenty of them around.’
‘Two reasons,’ Child explained. ‘Firstly, if it wasn’t important, he would just get it delivered to his office. The fact that he carried it out himself means it’s an important piece of equipment. Secondly, his reaction to my call showed his extreme tension. His natural reaction was to look back at the hotel in fear.’
‘Simon, I think you’re right. What should we do now?’
‘I think this Mr Kioki needs further investigation.’
Chapter Thirty-One
As the suite door shut on Whittingham, Kioki turned and walked slowly back to the lounge area. Whittingham was too sure, too confident. Such a person was dangerous. Better to be a little afraid, that way people took more care and less risk.
Something else felt off with Whittingham, but Kioki couldn’t put his finger on it. He detected something was not quite right, but it could just be his snobby exterior. It was a pity that they had to work with him, but they needed someone with the right connections who could set things up. They also needed someone who would take the blame when a full investigation took place.
