‘I’ll go see who it is,’ said George. ‘Probably another film crew, Sam. You better put your makeup back on!’
George wasn’t so cheerful when he returned. He was pale, and on either side of him were two large men, each gripping one of his shoulders. One of them was Hamid Mahsoud.
‘Ah, Mister Sam and Mister Darcy, we meet again.’ Hamid Mahsoud’s brilliant white smile was closer to a grimace this time. ‘So convenient of you to bring this girl back here for me to collect.’
Sam felt sick. In all the excitement of the film crews and reporters talking to him, he hadn’t given Mahsoud another thought. His doubts about the man were brutally confirmed, but that didn’t do him much good now.
‘What do you want? How dare you come in here like this, frightening these children!’ Jaz shouted at the two men, sparks almost flying out of her eyes.
Mahsoud turned on her. ‘You, be quiet. Or these children might get hurt,’ he sneered, gloating at them all. He then spoke rapidly to Kalila in Persian and, clearly terrified, she answered him in halting words. Jaz frowned slightly, trying to follow the conversation. Kalila began to cry, and looked desperate. Mahsoud then turned to the others. He pointed at Darcy.
‘Show my friend Abdul here where your telephone is, please.’
Darcy, white faced, led the man out to the office. The sound of the phone being ripped out of the wall could be heard in the kitchen.
‘Now, Mister Sam. You will take me, and this girl, to the boat she came here on. I believe it is low tide now, and I wish to inspect it. My friend Abdul will stay here and watch the rest of you. See that you do not try anything stupid while we are gone. Abdul has a very bad temper.’
‘Our Uncle Mungo will be back here any second!’ said George, shooting a glance at Sam. ‘You can’t make us do anything!’
Mahsoud snorted. ‘Your uncle is a little busy at the moment, I think. He just left to see to his fences, with that arrogant Englishman and the old man. They will be out of the way for long enough. I have seen to that.’
Sam’s heart sank to his boots. If Mahsoud had planned to get Mungo and the others out of the way so cleverly, what else was he capable of?
Twenty minutes later, Sam pulled up at Deception Point, and they climbed out of the old Land Cruiser.
‘Show me where this boat is!’ Mahsoud ordered.
Sam led the way down to the beach. The tide was just turning, Sam judged, and he carefully picked his way out onto the reef to the dark shape of the boat wreck. The hull had shifted a few metres with the tidal movement, and was now right on the edge of the rocky platform. Kalila held tightly on to his hand. Sam had a sudden and familiar prickly feeling at the back of his neck.
He glanced around, and then whispered to Kalila, ‘Stay right beside me. Don’t go near the water!’
When they reached the wreck, Mahsoud grabbed Kalila’s arm and made her climb into the hull with him. He was searching for something, poking into crevices and turning over bits of timber. He picked up the old blackened cast iron pot that Sam had found on the first day and tossed it irritably out of the boat. He tore off pieces of old rotten planking, and ripped up some of the flooring, scanning the bilges and the engine compartment. After a few minutes, becoming more and more agitated, he straightened up and shouted at Kalila in Persian, shaking her. She shook her head, her face fearful and pale. They climbed out of the boat, and Mahsoud moved to the edge of the reef and looked back along the length of the hull. He swivelled on his heel to face them, and shouted at Kalila again. She cowered beside Sam, covering her face with her hands.
‘Look out, behind you!’ shouted Sam, pointing at Mahsoud.
The man sneered at Sam, and said, ‘You think I will fall for that stupid trick? You are one dumb Aussie! Hah!’
And at exactly that moment, a huge black shape lunged out of the water and latched on to his leg. Mahsoud screamed in terror.
Sam sprang forward without thinking, and grabbed Mahsoud’s arm, hauling desperately. His foot collided with the old cast iron pot which Mahsoud had thrown out of the boat, and he snatched it up and flung it as hard as he could at the head of the crocodile, and dragged on Mahsoud’s arm with all his might. It worked. The heavy pot struck the crocodile right on the point of its snout, and it abruptly let go of its victim. Mahsoud collapsed in a screaming heap. Old Lumpy heaved his bulky body off the rock shelf, and sank out of sight.
Sam yelled at Kalila: ‘Quick, it might come back again. Help me!’ And together they half carried, half dragged the moaning Mahsoud to the beach. All the time Sam was aware of the crocodile floating in clear view just off the edge of the reef, shadowing them as they stumbled back to the shore. Somehow they managed to struggle to the top of the dune, and when they reached the shade of the big tamarind tree, Mahsoud reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Sam paled and took a step backwards.
‘You, boy, take off your shirt and bandage my leg.’ He was gasping in pain and shock, but he didn’t let go of the gun.
Sam lifted the shredded trouser leg, and examined the injury. It was an ugly sight. There were deep gouges in the muscle of the lower leg, and it was bleeding profusely. Sam pulled off his T-shirt and bound it tightly around the wound to stop the blood flow.
‘Water, get me some water,’ croaked Mahsoud, looking faint.
Sam returned from the ute with a bottle, and Mahsoud drained it and flung the empty container away. ‘Help me up,’ he ordered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. ‘We will go back to the house.’ He slumped into the back seat and dragged Kalila in after him, clutching her arm tightly, the gun gripped in his other hand.
They drove up to the house and carefully climbed out of the car. With Sam supporting Mahsoud, they limped into the house, Mahsoud never losing his hold on the gun. He was obviously in a lot of pain, and he was sweating profusely. Abdul rushed to his side and helped him to a chair at the dining table. The others stood there, absolutely frozen at the sight of the gun in his hand.
Mahsoud closed his eyes and breathed in shallow gasps. He looked up, and waved the gun at Jaz. ‘You! Medicine! I need something for my leg. Now!’
Jaz hurried out of the room to fetch the first aid kit, casting a worried glance at the others. Kalila and Sam moved cautiously across the room to where George, Tess and Darcy stood, the table between them and Mahsoud.
He eyed them malevolently. ‘You two!’ he barked at Sam and George. ‘You found this girl. Did she have anything with her? Any bag or papers? Answer me!’
‘Nothing,’ said Sam. ‘She had nothing at all.’
‘There is a document I am looking for. Her father had it. He must have given it to her. It must be somewhere. He would not have let it be lost.’
He spoke rapidly to Abdul in Persian, and then jerked the gun at Tess and Darcy. ‘Show Abdul where this girl sleeps. Take her too. He will search for the document.’
Abdul blinked stupidly at Mahsoud and left the room, stumbling a little as he went.
Tess and Darcy gave Sam an odd look, and followed Abdul. Kalila held Tess’s hand tightly as they disappeared up the hallway. Soon after, Sam could hear the sounds of drawers being pulled out and emptied onto the floor. Sam and George looked at each other. What was he talking about? The only thing that Kalila had, which she never let out of her sight, was the old atlas. But what would Mahsoud possibly want with that?
‘Do you want some tea?’ said George hesitantly, picking up a teapot from the table. ‘We made some peppermint tea for the other man.’
Mahsoud glared feverishly at him, and nodded. George poured some into a mug and handed it over.
Mahsoud took a few sips and pushed it away. ‘Pah! You Australians cannot even make good tea.’
Jaz returned with the first aid kit. Gently pulling off Sam’s blood-soaked T-shirt, she caught her breath sharply when she saw the wound.
‘But this needs a doctor! You need to go to a hospital!’
‘Just clean it and bandage it, be quick!’ he barked.
Jaz looked up from his leg. ‘It needs some antiseptic, or you will die of infection,’ she said, looking very serious.
‘Do what you must, just hurry!’
‘It will hurt a bit,’ she said.
Mahsoud roared out loud when Jaz tipped half the bottle of full strength antiseptic into the ragged wound.
‘You devil! You witch! You are killing me!’ and he hit out at her but missed.
‘It’s all right, the antiseptic won’t kill you, but if I don’t stop the infection now, the wound might.’ You big sook, she added under her breath.
He glared at her. Sweat ran off him in rivulets, and he was shaking. She unrolled a bandage and expertly wrapped up the injured leg, then moved over to stand beside Sam and George.
There was a muffled thump from the other end of the house, and Mahsoud called out, ‘Abdul! Abdul! Come here at once. It is time to get serious with these stupid people …’
A movement caught Sam’s eye, and he nudged George. A long green shape slithered silently out from under the table beside Mahsoud, and swiftly and effortlessly wound its way up the back of his chair. It slid gracefully across Mahsoud’s left shoulder, and turned its angular head to stare directly into his face, a forked tongue flicking in and out, tasting the air.
The effect on Hamid Mahsoud was stunning. He completely froze, his mouth wide open. His eyes bulged out of their sockets until they abruptly rolled back into his head, and he fainted clean away. Quick as lightning, Sam darted over to the slumped figure and pulled the gun out of his hand. He hid the gun in a drawer out of sight.
‘What about Abdul?’ he whispered nervously as Jaz and George grinned at each other.
‘I think I know what that noise was before,’ said George, and crept up the hallway. He came back moments later with Tess, Kalila and Darcy.
‘Abdul’s asleep! Jaz made him some peppermint tea while you were down at the Point, and we crushed up a heap of her migraine tablets into it with a lot of honey. He’s totally passed out!’
‘Yeah,’ said Tess. ‘We tied his hands together with the laces out of my joggers. They won’t hold him for long, but he might not wake up for a while.’
Just at that moment, there was a sound on the verandah and a head poked up above the window ledge, followed by the rest of a familiar angular body. Everyone rushed outside onto the verandah. Charles was at the window, with Uncle Mungo crouched down beside him holding a big lump of wood.
‘Is everythin’ all right?’ said Uncle Mungo. ‘We thought there mighta bin some funny business goin’ on.’
Sam didn’t know where to begin, but a thump and a low moan from inside the house forestalled any explanations.
‘Quick, he must be waking up!’ said George.
Uncle Mungo and Charles followed the others into the house, and were greeted by the strangest sight. Hamid Mahsoud had slid off his chair and lay on the floor, Horrible coiled comfortably on his chest. He stared at the bright green snake and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Sam had never seen anyone look so completely and utterly petrified.
‘Looks like you’ve had some unwelcome guests?’ said Charles. ‘Where’s the other one?’
Sam led him to the bedroom where Abdul was still snoring gently on the floor.
‘Mahsoud was looking for something, a document, he said, that Kalila’s father was supposed to have. He was really desperate about it. He made me and Kalila drive down to the Point so he could look in the boat, and that was when the crocodile got him.’ Sam gave Charles a brief account of what had happened before they rejoined the others in the dining room.
‘I think it’s time I made a phone call,’ said Charles. He went out to use the satellite phone in his car, and returned with two sets of handcuffs.
‘I’ve never actually had to use these before,’ he reflected as he snapped one set onto Mahsoud’s wrists. ‘Oh, and Darcy, I think you can come and get your snake now, too. She deserves a medal.’
‘How did you know to come back like that?’ said George. ‘We thought you wouldn’t get here in time.’
‘Well, when we got to the fence, it was clear that it had been interfered with,’ said Charles.
‘Yeah,’ broke in Uncle Mungo. ‘Someone had cut the wires. Those buffaloes never busted outta the paddock. They weren’t too far away, so we left Old Jock there to fix the fence, an’ we thought we’d better get back here and see what was goin’ on. Charles here said things didn’t feel right.’
An hour later a police helicopter clattered down in front of the homestead, and six heavily armed Federal Police officers rushed out. After a consultation with Charles, they escorted Mahsoud and the now conscious but completely confused Abdul to the chopper, and headed back to Darwin.
‘All that armoury,’ mused Charles as they left. ‘All they really needed was a few good snakes.’
Charles and Uncle Mungo drove everyone into town the next morning, except for Old Jock, who stayed home to ‘hold the fort’, as he put it. They all had to be interviewed by the police and give statements about what had happened. It took most of the day, and by late afternoon, Sam, George, Kalila, Tess and Darcy were slumped, exhausted, in the living room at the Munros’. Uncle Mungo and Jaz were out in the kitchen talking to Aunty Lou, whose shrieks and exclamations could be heard from time to time. Every so often she would rush into the living room, a jingling, multicoloured blur, hug one of them fiercely, sniff loudly and disappear back to the kitchen.
The doorbell chimed, and Tess wearily hauled herself out of her chair to answer it. She returned a few moments later with Spiros O’Reilly, QC, who smiled at them all.
‘Well, you guys really know how to get some publicity, don’t you? Didn’t realise I was dealing with such professionals! Wasn’t the press conference exciting enough for you?’ He sat down on the couch beside Darcy, but caught sight of Horrible draped around his neck and quickly moved to another chair.
‘It’s still a big news issue, and the phones haven’t stopped ringing yet. “Children in detention” has been the hottest topic on talkback radio for days, and the letters to the editor in the papers are the same. I’m pretty sure we’ll hear something good soon.’ He paused, and looked at them all, sprawled on the furniture and the floor. ‘You guys must be pretty tired, hey? Well, I’ve got some incredible news for you, especially for young Kalila here,’ he said, nodding at her. ‘I think I’ve found her father!’
Kalila caught the word ‘father’, and began speaking earnestly in Persian, and then in broken English. Tess darted out to the kitchen and came back with Jaz in tow. Jaz sat down beside Kalila, and slowly translated everything that Spiros had to say. Aunty Lou, Uncle Mungo and Charles crowded in at the door.
‘While you were all being interviewed today, I had a phone call from a Mrs Reza Dhazi. Mrs Dhazi is a cleaner at the hospital. She happened to be working in one of the wards this morning and there was a patient in there, under guard. Mrs Dhazi said she was singing a Persian song under her breath while she mopped the floor, and the patient heard her. He spoke to her in Persian. He said that he had seen the news on the hospital tv, and that he recognised his daughter, whom he thought had drowned. He told her not to go to the embassy, but to get in touch with the lawyer, or with the children who had saved his daughter. She phoned the tv station and found out my name. I spoke to the Immigration people straight away, and they let me go and talk to him. Until now, he’s refused to give his name to Immigration, so they had no idea who he was. Here,’ he said, fishing a photograph out of his briefcase and handing it to Kalila. ‘Is that your father?’
The response from Kalila was dramatic. Her eyes opened wide and she clutched the photo, a torrent of questions pouring out of her as fast as the tears.
‘Well I don’t think it’s the postman,’ said George. ‘And there she goes again, more waterworks!’
The next day Spiros and Jaz took Kalila out to the hospital for a tearful reunion with her father. He developed pneumonia after the sea voyage an
d had been admitted to the hospital, giving him the chance to catch sight of his daughter on the evening news. He would have to stay in hospital for a few more days, but clearly the knowledge that his daughter was safe was the best kind of medicine he could have been given.
While they were still at the hospital, Charles called by the Munros’ house and found the others sitting down to lunch in Aunty Lou’s kitchen. Aunty Lou herself had gone to work for the day. George poured Charles a cup of tea, and Darcy set a place for him at the table.
‘So what happens to this Mahsoud character, eh?’ said Uncle Mungo, putting down his mug. ‘I s’pose he just yells “diplomatic immunity” and gets sent home first class to Kabul, does he?’
Charles finished making himself a sandwich, took a bite, chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds and said, ‘Not if we can help it. Hamid Mahsoud is of particular interest to my colleagues in the Federal Police. I’ve spent a large part of yesterday and this morning with them, interviewing Mr Mahsoud, and Hasheem Tariq, Kalila’s father. It appears that Hasheem Tariq was an officer in the Afghanistan version of the drug squad. He uncovered a network of corrupt government officials, some very high up, I might add, all involved in the illegal drug trade. Before he could do much about it, attempts were made on his life. His wife and son were killed in a car bomb attack meant for him, so he decided to make a run for it while he still could, and took Kalila out of the country. Mahsoud, who works for the biggest illegal drug operation in Afghanistan, was sent after them. He tracked them to Indonesia, tried to kill them at sea, and then followed up at this end in case they had made it here.’
He took another bite of his sandwich, inspected it closely and said, ‘What’s this?’
Tess sighed. ‘It’s Mum’s “vegetarian surprise” loaf.’
‘Yeah, it’s a surprise you can eat it,’ said Darcy.
Charles had another look, took another bite, and went on: ‘Tariq had a list which named all the officials in this network. Mahsoud’s job was to get the list, so that the drug cartel would know which people were exposed to the drug squad. Then they could replace them with other people and keep the illegal traffic flowing without interruption. Mahsoud was sure that even if Tariq had drowned, his daughter might have a copy of the list. He was certain that Kalila would have been given a copy in case anything happened to her father.’
Castaway Page 12
