by Brian Cain
CHAPTER TWO
Chief Inspector Holmes of the Australian Federal Police had been leaning on the guardrail standing next to Stanton for several minutes before he spoke. "Always know I can find you here, don't you ever take a helmet off?" Stanton recognised his voice and looked into his face with a grin.
"Well look here, it's Sherlock himself."
"I can't help the fact that my surname is synonymous with a famous police character, you know I hate that."
"What do you want Holmes, you didn't come all the way here from Canberra for the good of your health, someone sent you." Holmes looked at the ground and hesitated.
"Aren't you getting too old for this shit Stanton, you're sixty this year, one day you'll find someone who’s smarter than you and can move faster and we'll all be in the shit." Stanton scowled at Holmes.
"Just tell me why you're here Holmes, short version will be fine."
"Just a message like usual, the information you require is in the usual package, whatever that means. No one ever tells me anything about what's going on."
"Thanks Holmes, you can go now." Holmes turned to walk away but then turned back.
"Oh that info you asked for some time ago about the part-Aboriginal copper from Newcastle here they call Cadiche. You were right, the particulars you gave us of that Lewis Page line up. He's Cadiche's brother all right. His second name used to be Page but Cadiche changed it when he joined the police force. Lewis Page was released from prison two weeks ago; don't know where he is. Bit coincidental; I can tell you another thing too, he was framed that bloke. All the report documents were ASIO. I found them by chance when chasing this up, I can only do so much John."
"Did Cadiche know Lewis was his brother?"
"No, they were both taken from their mother at birth; how the hell did you know they were related?"
"Get me a copy of both their birth certificates."
"I'm not as dumb as you think I am Stanton." Holmes reached into his top pocket of his long flowing rain coat and pulled out some papers. "Here I'm way ahead of you, I know we don't put anything on paper but this is harmless." Stanton took the papers, looking at them side by side.
"Thanks Holmes, you surprise me."
"How come you knew those jokers were brothers, it's not in Lewis Page's records nor Cadiche's." Stanton stared at Holmes.
"I don't know I just did. I ran into Page's cell mate not long back - bloke called Jimmy Stein. He said a few things that rang a bell."
"Jimmy Stein from the Painters and Dockers; Christ is he loose again?"
"No he ..um, had an accident."
"I didn't know that."
"No it was kept underwater you might say."
"I had to burn a few favours to get that info."
"I got a good memory Holmes. Work on your amnesia, remembering too much could be fatal. I don't want to see you up here again. You know how to contact me."
"Okay, okay keep your shirt on, if they didn't pay me a lot of money you're the last bloke I'd want to see."
Stanton looked deep into Holmes' eyes. “You’re right Holmes, I might be the last person you ever see." Holmes walked backwards for a few steps with a blank face, turned and walked away. Stanton called to him.
"Careful when messing with ASIO stuff Holmes, I might not like what you've done or who you are but the people may need you, you work for me Holmes." Holmes gave a brief smile and continued on. Stanton walked to his bike and put on his gloves; his mobile phone rang. The caller was identified, a local police officer he knew well. "Hello, I am popular this morning."
"You up at the lookout?"
"Yes."
"Cadiche has a new partner, female if you don't mind. He's currently at the Bar Beach car park not far from you, getting to know her in his squad car if you know what I mean. I know you wouldn't go down and spring him, that's why I thought I'd let you know." Stanton smiled.
"What a grouse idea, thanks." Stanton hung up, his stocky frame mounted his bike. He put his gloves on his worn and wrinkled fingers, his Harley coughed into life and idled towards Bar beach lookout. He could see a squad car parked right in the corner of the car park next to the beach, well out of the way of the beach lookout. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out his binoculars. It looked like there was no one inside but close scrutiny revealed the occasional glance of a bare arse. He idled down the hill along the road, entered the car park, switched off the motor and glided to within metres of the car’s boot. A dark arse appeared in ever-decreasing intervals amid the moans and screams in the passenger side. He locked his front brake, put the bike in first gear, opened the throttle wide and hit the starter. As soon as the motor revved he dropped the clutch, burning the rear tyre round in circles in clouds of smoke. The passenger door flew open and Cadiche fell out, pushed off by his now-unwilling partner. He got to his feet and ran across the car park towards the smoke becoming engulfed by it. Coughing and choking he watched the bike roar up the road as the smoke cleared.
"Stanton, bastard," he muttered. He looked down realising he had no pants on and ran back to the car. His partner was adjusting her clothing as he pulled up his pants. He roared off in pursuit of the now well out of sight bike. "Stanton the bastard, he's not getting away with this."
"You know the guy on the bike?" asked his partner.
"Yeah I know the mongrel." Cadiche engaged the siren and lights as he drifted onto the roadway. Stanton entered the intersection of his street to find a police car with two officers in fits of laughter waving him through. He pressed the remote on the tank of his bike and the garage door of his underground car park opened swallowing the Harley as if it had disappeared. He walked inside and made a cup of coffee. Cadiche made the intersection a couple of minutes later amid big grins and laughter from his fellow officers; he waved his fist at them as he went passed. "I've been set up, what a bunch of complete bastards." He pulled the squad car up in Stanton's driveway, got out and hammered on the door. His fellow officers drove past, tooted and waved. Stanton calmly answered the door with a coffee in his hand wearing his dressing gown.
"Cadiche, come for breakfast mate.'
"You been out on your bike you bastard."
"Dear oh dear, police brutality, can't even have breakfast without being harassed by the law, what's the place coming to, if you'll pardon the expression."
"So it was you, just as I was doing okay you had to cock it up."
"You've had your cock up what did you say?"
"I'm, throwing the book at you Stanton." Cadiche marched to his squad car rummaging around for his note book. His female partner smiled and giggled.
"It was pretty funny, you should have seen yourself in the middle of the car park in a cloud of smoke with no pants on. Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? If he did that he's much more fun than you are." Cadiche calmed down and replied in a meagre tone.
"The bastard saved my life once, I love the man."
"Well let's question him, I wan to meet this Stanton bloke."
"I'll message we’re out." and he picked up the radio. Cadiche's partner walked up the majestic marble steps leading to the entrance of Stanton's mansion; Stanton stood at the door looking out at the view of the beach, rooftops and sea below.
"Hi, my name's Kay," said the young officer as she offered Stanton her hand. "Cadiche has told me a lot about you." Stanton shook her hand and grinned.
"You would have extended your vocabulary somewhat then. Cadiche is quite articulate in expressing his feeling for people who have just pissed him off." She laughed out loud.
"Cadiche is busy making up some bullshit story so we can have a cuppa here."
"Bullshit, he’s good at that, come in make yourself at home." They walked to the kitchen and Kay sat at the breakfast bar overlooking the ocean view.
"Wow what a great place. Have you been here long?"
"No not really, can hardly be considered a local yet, settled here from globetrotting about six years ago. Was transferred here with a government job I h
ad in England." Stanton prepared coffee and toast as he spoke.
"What kind of government job?"
"Oh just… er, killing time really."
"Must have paid well to be able to afford this."
"I did other things as well in my own time."
"Like what?"
"Nosey bitch aren't you?"
"Am I!"
"You probably can't help it, trained at the academy, probably interested in everyone else's business for a start or you wouldn't have joined the police force. But you’re very good looking so people put up with it." Kay looked out the window embarrassed by Stanton's approach. She looked around but could see no pictures or ornaments, no clue of any kind for which to evaluate history or compel conversation.
"You don't like house decorations. The place is bare apart from the furniture. Where did you get all this brilliant old stuff?"
"I like antiques, picked it up from all over the place, has character." Kay spotted the surveillance system monitors in every room.
"That's some home security system you have, scared about someone stealing all your antiques?"
"Would be a brave person or one with no brains that would steal something from John Stanton," said Cadiche as he walked into the kitchen. "Where's me coffee Stanton we haven't got all day, I'm following up on a disturbance on the Bar foreshore for the records. They were pissing themselves laughing in the radio room Stanton."
"Really, that's unusual," quipped Stanton. Kay tried her best to wipe the smile from her face.
"What does he really do?" Kay asked Cadiche.
"He's retired," replied Cadiche.
Stanton interrupted, "Few years back I was doing some training for the police force, a young part indigenous Australian rolled up with the pack. Determined to make a difference, he was easily one of the best recruits I had ever trained. Fit, top marksman, big chip on his shoulder, didn't take orders very well. I took a personal interest in him, he reminded me of myself when I was younger. Channel the energy of people like that in the right direction and you get results. He became the top recruit at pass out even though the establishment had given up on him. He was an expert in dealing with his own kind; I called him the Cadiche man, now everyone does. Apart from a little help from me he did it all himself. Never judge him too harshly, below the nasty exterior is all good, he's never had a family but he's always welcome here."
Cadiche was looking at the floor and could not look up, he was deeply moved, and tears ran down his checks. "Could you leave us please Kay, go out by the pool in the sun, I need to talk to Cadiche." Kay moved out to the pool in the sun in silence.
"Sit down boy, I promised you I'd find your family." Stanton put two pieces of paper in front of Cadiche on the table. Cadiche picked them up and studied them. Things were silent for a while.
"I have a brother."
"Yes you have a younger brother."
"Jesus Christ I knew it."
"Me too."
"I got to find him."
"You must be ready for anything; sometimes these things can cause problems inside you, with you it may be the case."
"I don't care; I waited all my life for this, it really matters." Stanton got up and looked out the window.
"I found your mother as well." Cadiche looked round at Stanton.
"Is she alive?"
"No. No she's not." Cadiche looked back at the birth certificates in front of him.
"Well I've always wanted to know. Now I do."
"When are you off next?"
"Monday today, I'm off on Friday and the weekend."
"Get your dress uniform ready, you are going to pay your respects to your mother."
"Where, where am I from?"
"Your mother lays where she was born but not you. Place called Cape Grenville in far north Queensland. You were born at Cairns hospital well to the south. That's where they took you from her."
"Why?" Stanton sat back down in front of Cadiche.
"We’re talking about the same government that sent nearly sixty thousand British soldiers to their death on July 1st 1916 at the battle of the Somme in France. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but it's just as stupid as what they did to your mother. Commoners they call us."
"Perspective, you were always good at that. I don't know if I should go, you know speaking of the dead and intruding on their ground is not their way."
"You said their way, time to work out yours, put your uniform on and look in the mirror. You'll see who you are. The Cadiche man needs to wear more than emu's feathers these days if he's going to do any good. I have the governments of the UK, Australia, the US, all up me at some time or another and I was always on their side. Democracy is expensive, given to us by the Romans, distributed by the British. We currently don't have any other system. I've had first hand experience dealing with people who have other systems."
Stanton became extremely agitated raising his voice and standing up. "Would you like to see Kay out there buried up to her head and run over while she was still alive, just because she's a woman? How about her being shot in the back of the head because she is suspected of banging the guy next door who actually raped her?" He walked to the window and looked outside. "In our midst there are people who attribute these things to no other reason than greed. I need you Cadiche, my daughter despises me and my two sons are corporate lawyers, I may have created monsters. Their mother shit cans me in the media on a regular basis and I will still fight for the right for them to do that because the alternatives stink." There was silence for a few seconds.
"Okay, I'll call you later tonight. It's a lot to happen in one day."
"You'll be fine. What you going to do with Kay?"
"I'm not sure." Stanton stood over Cadiche and looked in his eyes.
"Well I'm sure she's worth more than a quick bang in the Bar Beach car park."
"Yeah, yes you're right."
"Another thing, tell your mates that they could do a lot more with their time than pave the way for lunatics like me. There were two stabbings and a rape in Newy last night; I can look after myself, where were they when people needed them?"
"No worries, I'll get on it." Cadiche called Kay and started to walk out.
"Boy!" called Stanton. Cadiche looked round. "Your father would be hard pressed to have a better son." Cadiche smiled and nodded, looked down and walked out. They climbed into the squad car and backed down the driveway.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." said Kay.
"No not yet, but looks like I'm going to." replied Cadiche.
"That Stanton guy would be in his forties yeah?"
"Yeah he'd wish; he turned sixty this year."
"Wow, hope I look that good at sixty. I still don't know what he does."
"It's not what he does that worries me, it's what he's probably going to do."
"What did he do when he was working?"
"He still works; he's sort of a cultural attaché for the British government."
"What the hell is that?"
"Means he does anything he wants to. Within reason, thinking about it they cant stop him."
"That's the kind of job I want." Their squad car left the street. Stanton had been monitoring a black Mercedes Benz sedan parked on the rise of the street about a hundred metres from his house visible on his surveillance system. He magnified the rego plate and put the number through his computer. Government of the United Kingdom classified information was all he could retrieve.
"The squad car is well clear now," said a refined English voice. "Let's have a talk with John." A wide cockney accent replied.
"Why don't you just let me sort him out, be a pleasure."
"You clearly don't know him do you?"
"Nah, have geysers like him for breakfast every day."
"Stay in the car and say nothing while I am inside with John."
"I have diplomatic immunity; I could waste you and him and just go home, all this stand off bollocks."
"Interesting outlook on
life you have, perhaps you should take him out, sound like you're just the man for the job." An attempt at calming unwanted interference failed.
"Piece of cake, you stay in the car while I sort this out."
"Of course," The Mercedes glided silently into Stanton's driveway. The burly cockney stepped out of the vehicle looked around and walked up the steps, stepping on his long coat and tripping slightly. He hammered on the door with his fist, the door creaked open as it was off the latch.
"This geysers an amateur, thought so, all piss and wind" muttered the cockney. He drew a pistol from his body holster and pushed the door open holding the sight level with his eye and stepped through the door, everything went black and he fell to the floor. Stanton stood over the unconscious man looking at the refined man adjust his tie at the entrance to the door.
"I see you've met Holinger John, sorry about that," said the refined voice.
"Westmere, why didn't you come up yourself? I didn't recognise this bloke. Lucky I didn't kill him, there again he does look familiar."
"It's a shame you didn't, he really is quite tedious John."
"Cup of tea?"
"Absolutely John."
"Using my first name, this is a serious visit, you want something?"
"Ever vigilant my friend." Stanton took Holinger and hung him on a coat hook in the kitchen his feet well clear of the floor. He loosened his collar and tied his head back to make sure he could breathe.
"The squad car that was here John, official business?"
"Hardly, more like a family visit. Pays to have friends in high places when dealing with arseholes like you Westmere."
"We are well aware of your standing and tactics Stanton."
"Stanton now, pissed you off enough to change tack?" Westmere sat down as Stanton slid a cup of tea towards him along the surface of the table.
"John, seriously we need to talk."
"And…"
"The Chinese gentleman you sanctioned last week, Lu Fong. We have a problem, his son is asking questions and has bought some information from one of our Chinese operatives in Beijing. He is on his way here now and will arrive tonight on a flight from the Chinese capital; he will be looking for you John." Stanton turned and looked out the window.
"I won't ask how it happened, just how to fix it may be more to the point. Lu Fong the second. Worse than his father, bribery, corruption, murder, drugs, arms sales to African renegades and war lords. Then there is a bad side to him." Westmere looked agitated and shrugged.
"Coming here will be his biggest blunder; Holinger was to act as a minder for him arranged by our operatives in Beijing. Holinger has just come from two years active duty in the Middle East and is a little edgy. I don't think he's up to it so I came to you."
"Who's the mole in Beijing?"
"He will be with Lu Fong the second luckily; we can tidy this up in one go."
"That wasn't the question Westmere." Westmere looked particularly uncomfortable; he looked up and down at Stanton.
"Emm, I'm afraid it's Hurst, John."
"Hurst, no."
"This is why we tried without you first. We know of the respect you have for him, Fong paid him several million for information. Must have been too much temptation for him with his son's doing well in college and all." Stanton leant on his elbow and rubbed his bottom lip with the index finger of his left hand. He ran both his hands across his head over his grey crew cut hair. His blue eyes stared at the ceiling.
"If you're lying to me I'll come for you."
"John please, I could have just gone home but I owe you my life on more than one occasion. There is such a thing as honour." Stanton shook his head.
"I'll take care of Fong and his offsiders, I'll give Hurst to Holinger. He can bring him home to you."
"John I beg of you, the lives of hundreds of people are in jeopardy should this get out."
"Holmes was right; I am getting too old for this shit."
"I beg your pardon."
"Don't worry about it, just thinking out loud." Holinger groaned as he came round. Stanton walked over to just below his face as Holinger gasped for air and started thrashing around with his fists. Stanton punched him in the stomach: Holinger dry-reached. "I'm going to let you down Holinger, should you cause any trouble at all I will kill you. Do you understand?"
"Bollocks!" cried Holinger. Stanton pulled Holinger straight up in the air by his coat lapels releasing him from the hanger. He head butted Holinger on the way down and need him in the groin. Holinger fell to the floor. Stanton stood over him picking up Hollinger's pistol lying on the table retrieved from his first encounter with Holinger. He cocked the pistol and put it in Hollinger's mouth. He crouched down level with his face.
"I'd like to say you were an idiot but I'm not into praising up people like you. You disobey one instruction I give you and I will kill you. Do you understand me?" Holinger nodded. Stanton stood and offered the pistol to Holinger handle first. Holinger took the pistol, turned it on Stanton, cocked and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked but did not fire. Stanton walked to a drawer under the kitchen work bench, opened up the drawer and took out an automatic pistol and silencer. He began to screw the silencer on the pistol. Westmere had moved to leaning on the wall and stood watching with a pale look. Holinger tried several times to discharge his weapon. Stanton turned around and cocked his weapon aiming at Holinger's heart.
"No good you trying Holinger, your pistol clip is in my dressing gown pocket. You really are an idiot. How long have you been working for Lu Fong?
"How did you know?" snapped Holinger.
"We only carry on like you when we have a job to do, there's no way in China if you'll pardon the expression, only someone who was bought out would carry on like you. I had to talk to Westmere for a while to work out if he had been nobbled but people like Westmere are pretty solid." Holinger threw his weapon towards Stanton and attempted to run for the door but Stanton dodged the projectile and shot Holinger in the left upper leg bringing him crashing to the floor. Blood began to swamp his ankle length black coat. Holinger grabbed the wound and attempted to stop the bleeding. "You’ll bleed to death if you don't get help Holinger, you're setting Hurst up are you not, he'll be on the same plane as Fong but Fong won't know will he? You were hoping to have them all knocked off and retire to some obscure Caribbean country no witnesses."
"No, I just work for Fong, he's a nutter, he’ll have us all killed," said Holinger. Stanton nodded as he spoke. "Yes, he is a madman. Set his own father up so he could inherit his empire. I thought it was too easy. That's where I saw you Holinger, you were there to knock him off but I beat you to it." Westmere looked at Stanton. "Yes Westmere, your mate here is loose cannon. You should really get rid of that coat Holinger, stands out a mile and your wide lower jaw and slit chin, may as well paint yourself pink. Have you learned nothing? Arrive unannounced, operate and leave. Stealth for good health Holinger." Stanton shot Holinger between the eyes as he lay on the floor. Westmere staggered to the kitchen chairs and sat down.
"My God. What a mess." Stanton sat down next to him.
"Lucky you dropped in Westmere, don't worry about the mess, that's why I've got a tiled floor."
"This really is quite unacceptable John."
"Go home Westmere, I’ll take care of Fong and his offsiders when he arrives, pleasure to kill a man like that. In fact I'm going to take care of all of them, enough's enough. If you were in a forest Westmere, you'd have trouble seeing the wood for the trees. You need to work on that. Do you know what time Fong's mob gets to Sydney?"
Westmere stepped over Holinger on his way out and turned to Stanton. His slim framework was still trembling. Around nine pm tonight…um… and Holinger?"
"He's coming fishing with me tonight with Mr Fong and his mates."
"I see, well I'm going."
"No worries, I'm busier than a cat trying to bury shit in a marble staircase. Have to pick up a message from Canberra as well today."
"That
really is quite distasteful John."
"You really never had a good sense of humour did you Westmere? Remember when I nailed your boots to the barracks floor and you put them on and tied them up without moving them. I watched you for days before I did that, you never ever moved your boots from the same spot, you kept them next to your bed in the same place, put your feet in them and tied them up. Bad move, I can still see you making excuses about moving from where you stood. You remained completely calm even though we were all pissing ourselves laughing."
"My wife finds the incident funny."
"She's a lovely lady, how is Maud?"
"Fine, she sends her regards."
"My ex seems hell bent on having me shot."
"I could understand that." Westmere left shaking his head.
