by Martin Roth
“I told you, I don’t know why he wanted to make big money.”
“But he must have been angry. More than angry.” I tried to find the right word. “Distraught. At losing all his money.”
“He was furious. It all happened very quickly. And he blamed me.”
“So he was trying to blackmail you, by threatening to reveal details of your carbon offset program.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. It’s all approved by the local council.”
“Whatever. Pastor Reezall thought something was fishy. And he was threatening on his radio program to reveal it.”
“Was he? I never listened to his radio programs. Anyway, he was in my office every second day making all kinds of wild threats. Accusing me of everything under the sun. Including that the carbon offset program was illegal and that he was going to expose it. He’d just lost a fortune. He was in deep, deep despair. That’s a fact.”
“So this man Grapper, he wanted to get all that money? He felt it was his?”
“He said something about how he worked around Asia, helping Jim. And he was expecting a lot of money from Jim, but Jim had told him that he couldn’t pay. He said Jim had told him that all his money was with me.”
“So when did the pastor tell him this?”
“I don’t know.”
“So he was trying to get quarter of a million dollars out of you?”
“He mentioned a figure of half a million. I told him what I’ve told you. That Jim’s money was gone, and that I didn’t have that sort of money. And there’s no cash in the office. I think in the end he realized that no matter how much he threatened me he wasn’t going to get anything. But he had a gun. I was scared.”
“And what was it he said about Miriam?”
“That was right at the beginning. When he started asking about Jim’s money, and I said I had been expecting Jim’s daughter to be arriving today to ask the same questions. And he replied that he’d be seeing her soon enough. Something like that.”
“What do you think he meant?”
“How on earth would I know? It was my joke. He’d just pulled a gun on me. I was terrified. I was trying to say something that might lighten the atmosphere.” He looked between me and Miriam.
“What else did he say about Miriam?”
“Nothing else. He just wanted to know about Jim’s money.”
I pondered on all this. “Look, I’m sure the police will be here any minute. We’ll leave you. Are you sure you’re okay by yourself until they arrive?”
He looked dubious.
“I don’t think this guy has any reason to come back. Not after tying you up. But why don’t you go over the road to one of the cafés there? Sit in a public place. I’ll let the police know you’re there.”
He bolted the back door, gathered some papers, and then we all walked together back outside. As he was locking the front entrance he paused and looked up at me: “You should be careful. That old man, he was really desperate.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I phoned the police and told them about Greene, then I drove Miriam home. “I’m scared,” she said.
“Is it really Grapper?”
“What do you think? It sounds just like him. He told Go-Go Greene that he had been working with my father in Asia. Helping him.”
“You said Grapper wasn’t able to come back to Australia. Some legal problems.”
“That’s what he told me.”
“But he’s back. Apparently. So he really is desperate. Just like Greene said.”
“Desperate for money, apparently. My father’s money. But what’s going on? And what did he mean when he said he would be seeing me soon enough?”
“You’re the mother of his son.”
“But why now? Why didn’t he contact me earlier? Before he came to Australia? Or once he came to Australia why didn’t he contact me right away?”
“He’s desperate. And desperate men do desperate things.”
Suddenly Miriam gasped, and I saw her staring at me. “Oh no. Do you think…?”
“What?”
“Did he kill Dad?”
I hesitated, then spoke. “That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself. I don’t know. We’d been assuming that it must have been Greene. But now I have to think that Grapper is rapidly moving up the charts. I think he’s now the main suspect. Some sort of a major dispute over money.”
“But Grapper—he’s…he’s the father of my child. He and my father were friends. Colleagues, at least.”
“Something went wrong. Concerning money. That can blow up the best of friendships.”
“And a quarter of a million dollars. We know where it came from. But why could my father possibly need even more? He had so much money coming in.”
I turned my car into Miriam’s street and stopped outside her house.
“Johnny, we need to talk more. Please come in. I’ll make some lunch. And you can meet Sarah.”
We entered her house. She walked ahead of me to the kitchen, and then she let out a piercing scream. “Sarah!” she cried.
I ran in. A woman in jeans and a pale green T-shirt was seated on a chair at the kitchen table, her hands bound behind her, tape around her mouth. It was almost a carbon copy of what we had encountered just a couple of hours earlier in Go-Go Greene’s office. Her eyes exhibited terror.
I pulled off the tape. The woman burst into tears. “He took Jonah,” she managed to say.
“Who?” cried Miriam. “Where’s he gone?”
I took a bread knife from the bench and sliced through the cords. Sarah tried to stand, then slumped back on the chair.
“Sarah, tell us,” shouted Miriam. “What’s happened?” She sat next to her sister. “What’s happened?”
“A man came to the door. Not long after you left.” Her voice was choked. “An old man. He pushed his way inside and took a gun from his pocket. He asked where you were. I said you were out. Then he said he had come for Jonah.”
“He took Jonah?”
“Jonah came into the kitchen and the man made him sit on the floor. He told me to sit on this chair and then he tied me up. Then he grabbed Jonah and left. He left a cellphone on the table.” She pointed at it. “He said he’ll call on that.”
“Did he give his name?” I asked.
“He said he’s Jonah’s dad. Gripper or Grapper or something.” She looked at Miriam. “That man you had the affair with in Thailand. Jonah’s father. He said he wants his money and he’ll contact you later. He said he must have his money. And he said that if we call the police he’ll kill Jonah.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I want my boy,” screamed Miriam. I sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “I want my boy,” she cried again. I held her tight. I could feel her body shaking.
I looked over at Sarah, slumped in the chair. She too was shaking, her face pale. “Are you all right? Do you think you should see a doctor?”
“He took Jonah,” she muttered. “I couldn’t do anything.”
I stood and poured her a glass of water. She took it with shaking hands and sipped a little.
“I think you should see a doctor,” I said to her.
She took several deep breaths. “He didn’t hurt me. Just frightened me.” She raised a hand. “Look, I’m shaking. But I don’t need a doctor.”
“He said he’ll kill Jonah,” said Miriam. She stared straight up at me, desperation in her eyes. “I want Jonah back.”
I looked at the two women. “We have to take him seriously. It’s pretty clear he’s desperate. It seems likely that he might have been the one who killed your father.”
“That man?” exclaimed Sarah, putting a hand to her mouth. “He killed Dad?”
“It’s looking like it. It seems there’s some big money involved. A quarter of a million dollars. Maybe half a million dollars.”
“He killed Dad for money? But Dad never had money.”
“His charities did. Something’s going on.
It seems this man believes your father owes him money.”
“And now he wants money from me?” said Miriam. “What’s going on? He’s kidnapped Jonah. Why is he doing this to me? Does he think I have that kind of money? How does he expect me to pay?”
“Call the police,” said Sarah. “Call the police right now.”
“I believe him when he says he’ll kill Jonah,” I said. “I say we should at least wait until we hear from him. Find out what he wants.”
“He might be taking Jonah out of Australia,” said Sarah. She spoke clearly and precisely despite her ordeal. “This is kidnap. It’s a police matter. He has to be staying somewhere. He might still be in this area. The police can track him down.” She looked at me. “Do you think you can find him? You don’t even know where to start.”
I knew she was right. Perhaps it was just my own selfish desire to try to impress Miriam. But I insisted: “At least let’s wait until we hear from him. So we know what he wants. Because I do believe he is serious when he talks about killing Jonah. He’s an old man. If he killed your father, and now I think he probably did, then he is desperate. Really desperate.”
“Johnny’s right,” said Miriam, after a long pause. Her voice was strained. “All that matters is Jonah. I don’t care about anything else.”
I was pretty sure that Sarah was not convinced. But Jonah was Miriam’s son, not hers.
I took the kettle and brewed some tea and coffee. Then we sat together awkwardly at the kitchen table, Grapper’s phone in the center.
I looked at Sarah, now considerably more composed, her arm around her sister. The family resemblance was strikingly evident, although the two women were also different. Sarah was bigger, almost stocky in appearance, slightly taller, with broad shoulders and a chubby face. But they shared the same brown eyes, brown hair, pale skin, freckles, thin lips and a nose that narrowed until it was almost pointy.
We lapsed into gloomy silence, broken only by periodic bouts of sobbing from Miriam. I cooked us a light meal though neither sister ate much. It was at least four hours before the phone abruptly rang, startling us all. I picked it up and switched on the speakerphone, then handed it to Miriam. She looked at me. Fear was in her eyes.
“Yes,” was all she could manage.
“This is Grapper,” said a deep, guttural voice. “Listen to what I’m going to say…”
“Grapper, how could you? How could you…?”
“Shut up,” he shouted. “Listen to me. I have Jonah. If the police get involved he’s dead. Your father owes me five hundred thousand dollars. I get that and you’ll have your boy.”
“But I can’t possibly…” began Miriam.
“I mean, our boy,” said the man. “I’ll phone again tomorrow morning. Don’t contact the police if you want to see him again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I’ve known worse nights, but not many. I’ve spent nights in damp and frigid caves, nights in the jungle with missiles raining on our positions and nights of fleeing the enemy across rugged terrain. But this night, spent with two women desperate for the return of their son and nephew, provided a new dimension in torment.
Each minute seemed like an hour. They paced up and down through the house, then sat back down again. They cried. At one point Miriam went and tidied Jonah’s bedroom, as if she somehow thought that might bring him back. They turned on the television, then switched it off again.
At around midnight Miriam took note of Sarah’s continuing yawns and decided we should try to sleep. Sarah had been in the spare bedroom, but now she joined Miriam in her room. I could have had Jonah’s bed, but that might have implied something—perhaps that he wouldn’t be needing that bed any longer. So I said I would sleep in the living room on the sofa. Miriam supplied a couple of blankets, although I didn’t need them much once the fan was switched off.
I didn’t sleep a lot, and I doubt that Miriam did either. Once I heard her crying. I wanted so much to go to her room to try to offer some comfort, but knew she had her sister with her. I kept wondering if I had done the right thing by insisting that we not summon the police.
At around five o’clock I heard Miriam in the kitchen preparing food. I got up and joined her. She immediately came and put her arms around me. “Oh Johnny. Hold me, please. I don’t remember when I’ve felt so alone.” She looked particularly haggard, with her hair unkempt and her face hard and dry.
“Did you sleep much?”
“Hardly at all. Probably a little more than I realized. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jonah. How much I love him and need him. I did a lot of praying. I haven’t done much of that recently. And some crying. Johnny, we have to get Jonah back. Do you think we should have called the police? I’ll do anything. Please. I’ll do anything.” Her voice was again strained.
“We’ll get him back. He’ll phone again. Kidnapping Jonah—that’s an act of desperation. Grapper has to contact you again. I feel he’s got nowhere else to turn.”
“That’s not good, is it?”
I hesitated. “No. You’re right. I don’t think it’s good.” I cooked eggs and toast and brewed tea and coffee. Sarah, looking almost as ragged as her sister, joined us and we ate in silence.
Then Sarah spoke: “If you refuse to go to the police there must be something more that we can do. He phoned on that special cellphone. Can’t you get his number?”
“No, I checked last night,” I said. “He’s done something to disable that function. I can’t get his number. He’s a professional.”
It was nine o’clock before the phone rang again. Miriam looked at us both, then I saw her mutter something—a short prayer, possibly—before answering.
“Hello.” The tension infused her voice.
“Now listen,” said the gruff voice. “I’m going to give instructions about where you go.”
“Is Jonah all right?” begged Miriam. “I want to talk to him.”
“He’s fine. Now you need to drive along the road from Healesville to Yarra Boss. After four miles you come to Henleyvale. Stop outside the general store. Make sure you’re in your own car. And make sure you have the phone. And make sure no other cars follow you.”
“Wait,” shouted Miriam. “I’m bringing a friend. He’s not a policeman. I promise you.”
“Be there in fifteen minutes,” said Grapper.
“Look after Jonah, please look after Jonah,” cried Miriam as the line went dead.
I spoke: “Fifteen minutes. We have to hurry.” I grabbed the phone.
“Can you drive, Johnny? I’m just not up to it.”
“Give me your keys.”
We said farewell to Sarah and set out in Miriam’s white Corolla.
“I think I know that store,” I said. “Don’t you? It’s the one we pass each time we’re driving between Healesville and Yarra Boss.”
“The general store? Yes, I know it. It’s next to a few houses. Oh Johnny, I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t have done this by myself.”
There was little traffic, but to my surprise a blustery wind was blowing, bringing a strong smell of burning. I tuned Miriam’s radio to Boss Radio, and learned that, thanks to the wind, fires were now burning in several parts of the region.
We arrived at the store and I surveyed the area. Though we had driven through forest we were now in a clearing, with farmland stretching out on all sides and a hill over on one side. This was an excellent spot for Grapper. He would have seen our car arriving from nearly half a mile away and he would know about any other cars on the road. It was also possibly one of the few spots in this area with cellphone reception.
“He’ll be here somewhere,” I said. “Watching us.”
“There are no other cars anywhere. He must know that.”
“We have to wait. Nothing else we can do.”
Abruptly the phone rang. She had it in her hand, and almost dropped it.
“Johnny, I’m too nervous. I don’t think I can handle this.” She handed me the phone.
&nb
sp; I answered: “Hello.”
“Who’s that?”
“My name’s Johnny. I’m a friend of Miriam’s. A friend. I’m not a policeman. I’m in the car. She’s too nervous to talk.”
There was a long pause, and for a moment I feared he was going to ring off. But then he spoke again: “Drive to Yarra Boss. Go to the car park next to the community center. Be there in twenty minutes.” He rang off.
I started up the car and set off. I told Miriam the new instructions.
“I thought we were going to meet him here.”
“He needs to be sure we’re not with the police.”
“But is he going to drive to Yarra Boss too?”
“I doubt it. He’d have to take the same road as us. Maybe he’s working with someone, and that person is at Yarra Boss. But I doubt that too. I’m sure he just needs us to go somewhere with good phone reception, so he can call again with a new set of instructions.”
“How can he do all this to his own son? And to the mother of his son? We had a good time together. I’ve never tried to sue him for maintenance. Most other women I know would have.”
I wasn’t sure how you would sue a gunrunner whose country of residence—let alone his street address—was a mystery. But I let it pass. We arrived at Yarra Boss and I drove into the half-full car park. We both looked around. A few cars were moving in and out.
“Is he here?” she asked.
“I doubt it. There were no cars ahead of us when we were driving. I don’t see how he could be here waiting for us.” I looked at my watch. “And it’s twenty minutes since we spoke.”
As if on cue the phone rang again. I answered.
“Go back to the general store,” said the now-familiar voice. “Be there in twenty minutes.”
I started up the car. Around eighteen minutes later I pulled up at the general store. Two minutes passed and the phone rang.
“Look out to your right,” came the command. “There’s a grove of trees about one hundred yards away.”
I looked. “Yes, I see it.”
“Walk to the trees. Then follow the track up the hill.” He rang off.
