The Enemy Within
Page 28
‘Benny Hunter’s dead and we don’t need to get into how you and him became close. I’m figuring that was Harding’s doing, although he’s also no longer around to confirm. Or maybe you found each other in a chatroom? Doesn’t matter. Needless to say, the cops are already all over Hunter’s Freedom Front. The Lucky Lads. Blue Boys. Any group that links back to him.’
Bailey sat forward in his chair, elbows on the table, stealing a glance at Donaldson’s daughter who was staring at them from behind the coffee machine. ‘Now let’s talk about the shipping container with the guns that Callaghan smuggled through Port Botany for you. Your connection to Donald Sampson. The deal you managed to get over the line before he was arrested by the FBI. Someone was on the ground in the United States for that one, weren’t they, Jock? Someone with money and time. Someone you could trust?’
Donaldson clenched his jaw and his eyes glistened with loathing.
‘I can’t believe you involved Katie in all this.’ Bailey was shaking his head, keeping one eye on Donaldson’s daughter in case she had cottoned on to the conversation and did something stupid. ‘Sending her on jaunts overseas under the guise of your coffee business. She’s your daughter, Jock. What were you thinking? I didn’t tell Elisabeth, couldn’t risk it. When a mother discovers that her ex-husband has coopted their daughter into being a terrorist there’s no telling what she’d do.’
Donaldson wasn’t looking at Bailey any more. He was staring at his daughter, exchanging unspoken words. She put down the coffee portafilter in her hand and started towards the door.
‘The FBI shared thousands of surveillance images with cops back here and guess who turned up in California at a restaurant with Sampson a few days before those guns were packed into a shipping container alongside pallets of oranges?’
Detective Greg Palmer was sitting at a table by the door and he stopped Katie before she could make it outside, grabbing her by the arm.
‘Let go of my daughter!’ Donaldson stood up, sending his chair crashing to the floor. ‘Get your hands off her!’
Donaldson’s booming voice stopped every conversation in the café, attracting every gaze.
Bailey was on his feet. ‘Game’s up, Jock. You’re done.’
Police in uniforms poured into the café, urging people to stay calm and remain seated while they did their job. Palmer had already put Katie Donaldson in handcuffs and he handed her off to a uniformed officer.
‘I’ll fix this, Katie! Don’t talk to anyone! Wait for a lawyer!’
Katie managed one more look at her father – a hopeless glance – before she was steered through the door.
‘Probably the last time you’ll see her.’ Bailey’s words were laced with a retribution that surprised even him. ‘Terrible price to pay for doing what her father told her.’
Donaldson lunged at Bailey with his cane, losing his balance and falling clumsily onto the table, sending cups and saucers, glasses and a bottle of water, spilling and smashing on the floor.
‘You’re pathetic,’ Bailey said, looking down on Donaldson, who was wriggling around on the floor trying to get up.
‘Jock Donaldson.’ Palmer appeared beside Bailey, helping Donaldson to his feet. ‘I’m Detective Greg Palmer from the New South Wales Police.’
‘Get your hands off me. I don’t care who you are.’
‘I’m arresting you on charges of conspiracy to murder, financing terrorism and also for your alleged involvement in the planning and execution of an act of terrorism. You have the right to remain silent and to refuse to answer questions. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law.’
‘I said get your hands off me!’
Donaldson tried to push Palmer away as he was explaining his rights and the detective reacted by twisting Donaldson’s arm behind his back, pushing his head down so that it touched the table while he cuffed him.
‘Aaargh!’ Donaldson cried out as Palmer pulled him up off the table with his hands locked in metal. ‘I’ll have you fired! Do you know who I am? Do you?’
‘We know exactly who you are, Mr Donaldson. It’s why you’re in handcuffs,’ Palmer said.
He turned to Bailey, Neena and Ronnie: ‘Stay here a few minutes while I put this prick in the wagon. Cameras outside and all that. Might want to steer clear.’
Bailey had tipped off Annie Brooks to be there for Jock Donaldson’s arrest and Palmer was right, there was no way that Bailey and Ronnie would want to be a part of this story.
‘Back in a moment.’
‘No worries,’ Bailey said, patting Donaldson on the shoulder. ‘They’re going to love you in prison, Jock.’
Donaldson said nothing.
‘Not bad, bubba,’ Ronnie said as Donaldson was led away. ‘I reckon you might have chosen the wrong career. What you’ve put together for Palmer looks watertight. This guy’s going to spend the rest of his life in a cage. His daughter too.’
‘You did all this?’ Neena sounded incredulous.
‘Sorry, Neena,’ Bailey said. ‘Before I knew it, I was in too deep.’
After Bailey had gotten the all clear from hospital, he’d spent the last five days doing what he did best. Diving headfirst into a story. Piecing it together. Harriet Walker’s investigation had given him more than a head start. She had been on the cusp of lifting the lid on a global white supremacist movement driven by hate and financed by a dark web identity known as Wise Elder.
Bailey had managed to find the final pieces of the puzzle and when he’d finished writing his story he’d decided to share the article, along with Walker’s files, with Detective Greg Palmer so that today’s arrests would happen. So that justice would be served. The Journal was the logical place for a long investigative piece like this to be published and, not surprisingly, the paper’s editor, Adrian Greenberg, had graciously accepted the article, despite making it clear that he still hated Bailey’s guts.
Annie Brooks had led the way in reporting the story about what had happened at Bondi Beach, referring to Bailey as ‘the unnamed driver’ who had been forced at gunpoint to take Russell Ratcliffe to Bondi for his planned attack. Annie reported that the driver had ‘heroically crashed’ the car into a light post, risking their own life and causing Ratcliffe’s death. It was sensational stuff.
It was inevitable that Bailey would be unmasked as ‘the driver’ – whether in court, or by a diligent reporter – and he’d already promised an on-camera interview with Annie for Inside Story when it happened. Until then, he’d enjoy his relative anonymity while it lasted.
‘Have a seat, bubba.’ Ronnie had been picking up the chairs around the table with his good arm and he plonked himself in one of them. ‘We’re going to need to wait out the shit show.’
The people in the café had lost interest in Bailey, Ronnie and Neena and they were crowded by the door, watching through the glass as Donaldson was led into a police wagon, ducking his head away from the microphone that Annie had shoved in front of his face and the camera that was capturing his ignominy.
‘Anyone know how to work that thing?’ Bailey pointed at the coffee machine.
‘Don’t look at me.’ Ronnie leaned back, pulling a cigar from the sling that was supporting his bandaged shoulder, sparking it. ‘I’m sure the cops won’t mind.’ He blew a cloud of smoke at Bailey, smiling.
The police wagon took off and Palmer came back through the door.
‘Get it all?’ Bailey said to Palmer as he unbuttoned his shirt, wincing as he tore the tape that had fixed the recording device to his hairy chest, handing it to the detective.
‘We got it, Bailey.’ Palmer carefully wrapped the cord around the device and put it in his pocket. ‘You should get out of here. I can catch up with you later.’
Bailey didn’t need to be told twice and he was already on his feet before he remembered the other thing that had been on his mind.
‘Any word on the Roundtree girls?’
‘Safe as houses. Arrived in Byron at their aunt’s place l
ast night,’ Palmer said. ‘I know a cop up there who’ll keep an eye on them.’
Bailey had taken the detective to visit Jules and Margie at Father Joe’s place in Redfern a few days ago to reassure the girls that they weren’t in any trouble. That this frightening chapter in their lives was now closed. Their mother’s sister had offered to take them in up at Byron Bay. Help them get their lives back on track. Back to school. A fresh start. Palmer had organised a car to drive them north, saying it was the least he could do. Unsurprisingly, the girls’ father didn’t stand in the way. He’d given up on parenting his daughters years ago.
‘That’s good news, Greg. Appreciate it.’
Bailey still had Jules’s number and he’d check in with her from time to time too.
‘Mind if I come with you to the station, Greg?’ Ronnie said. ‘Got a few things I need cleared up for the motherland.’
‘Sure.’ Palmer sounded cagey, but he didn’t bother arguing. ‘Ms Singh, we’re going to need to get a statement from you. One of my officers will come and see you shortly.’
Neena was still in shock about what she’d just witnessed and she nodded her head. ‘Sure.’
‘I’m off then.’
Bailey didn’t bother with a goodbye and he didn’t wait for the others to give him one either. He just stuffed his hands inside his jacket and walked outside into the rain, grabbing his umbrella, popping it open, slipping through the crowd, eager to get away from the action.
‘Hey, Bailey?’ The pelting rain had suppressed the sounds of Annie’s footsteps hitting puddles on the footpath behind him. ‘Wait up!’
He stopped. ‘Get the shot?’
‘We did. Thanks for the heads-up. I’m about to go live for the morning news.’
‘Big story, Annie.’
She stepped closer, sheltering under Bailey’s umbrella. Their faces only inches apart. ‘You must be relieved it’s over. You okay?’
Exhausted by another story that had almost killed him, Bailey could only shrug. Too tired for anything else. ‘I’m always okay.’
A lie.
‘Annie!’ Fletch was waving at his reporter from outside the café. ‘We’re up!’
Annie gestured to Fletch that she’d be there in a minute, turning back to Bailey, the cloud from her breath touching his cheek. ‘Catch up later?’
‘Sure.’
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘I thought I might take Campo for a walk.’
‘In this?’
Bailey held out his hand, catching droplets falling from the sky, watching them splatter on his skin.
‘There’s something about rain that makes me feel alive.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The act of writing may be a solitary exercise but it’s never truly something that you accomplish alone. Thanks to the wonderful team at Simon & Schuster Australia, particularly Fiona Henderson for her encouragement and our countless plotting sessions, and to editor Deonie Fiford, for her brilliant suggestions and edits.
Some of the subject matter in this book is sensitive so I can’t publicly thank many of the people who helped me with often very small details involving intelligence, policing, customs and the law. As we’ve seen in Australia and around the world, journalists can often become targets for shining lights in dark places. I want to thank all those reporters who’ve stared down often powerful detractors to report the truth. Don’t stop.
Thanks to Candice Fox for her advice and for reading early chapters of this book, and to Stan Grant for our conversations about books and writing. Thanks to Randy for his Star Wars expertise and to my draft readers – the eagle-eyed David ‘Mac’ McInerney, Gavin Fang and Tracey Kirkland.
I want to thank my agent Jeanne Ryckmans for kick-starting this exciting journey with me and staying the course.
And lastly, I’m eternally grateful for the love and support of my wife, Justine, and our little people, Penelope and Arthur.
More from the Author
State of Fear
The Greater Good
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tim Ayliffe has been a journalist for more than 20 years and is the Managing Editor of Television and Video for ABC News and the former Executive Producer of News Breakfast. He has travelled widely and before joining the ABC he worked in London for British Sky News. A few years ago he turned his hand to writing global crime thrillers featuring former foreign correspondent John Bailey. He is the author of The Greater Good, State of Fear and The Enemy Within. When he’s not writing or chasing news stories Tim rides bikes and surfs. He lives in Sydney.
SIMON & SCHUSTER
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www.SimonandSchuster.com.au/Authors/Tim-Ayliffe
Also by Tim Ayliffe
The Greater Good
State of Fear
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THE ENEMY WITHIN
First published in Australia in 2021 by
Simon & Schuster (Australia) Pty Limited
Suite 19A, Level 1, Building C, 450 Miller Street, Cammeray, NSW 2062
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© Tim Ayliffe 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 9781925640977
ISBN-13: 978-1-9256-4098-4 (eBook)
Cover design: Luke Causby/Blue Cork
Cover image: Sasha Pleshco/Unsplash
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