Eventually they got everything sorted, and the last couple of hours had been spent following the trail of companies, searching for that one common denominator that might lead somewhere.
For the second time in half an hour, something sparked in Josie’s mind. She mentally grasped at it, but it remained beyond reach, hidden somewhere in the murky depths of her memory.
‘Need a break?’ Nate looked up from his notebook.
She shook her head. ‘It’s that name, Providence Pty. Limited. I’ve seen it, typed it, heard it somewhere.’
‘I’ve got that too.’ Nate squinted at the screen. ‘In the — fifth tier — of the scrap metal yard.’
The two men gathered around Josie’s chair.
‘See, it’s there, and there again.’ She pointed to the mind map she’d drawn on her notepad. ‘In the centre I’ve written “laundered money” with each major branch representing businesses we know the Altar Boys have a stake in. The offshoots of the branches represent the beginning of a pyramid of companies which are clearly providing a screen for someone.’
‘You said it right there,’ mused Nate. ‘Provide. Providence.’
‘I think I know it from the office.’ Josie’s voice sank to a low whisper in her throat. ‘I could have typed it in a document, or opened a file in that name.’
Nate frowned, eyes narrowed as he continued to peer at the drawing.
Dickson swore.
Josie felt ill.
‘Okay.’ Nate rubbed a hand across his jaw and blew out a breath. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time. Who are the shareholders of Providence?’
Josie consulted her mind map again. ‘Eagle Eye Enterprises Pty. Limited and Alessandro David.’
‘Eagle Eye.’ Nate mused. ‘Eye of providence.’
Josie looked at Dickson. He raised his eyebrows in a “your guess is as good as mine” expression.
‘What’s the eye of providence?’ It was Dickson who asked.
‘A symbol.’ Nate leaned both palms on the desk. ‘Search it up, Josie.’
Thankful for her rapid typing skills, Josie keyed in the words.
‘There.’ Nate pointed to an image of an eye surrounded by a triangle. ‘It’s supposed to represent the all seeing eye of God. The triangle represents the Holy Trinity. Watching over humankind. Divine providence. That kind of thing.’
‘The overseer.’ Dickson muttered. ‘Creepy.’
Nate’s eyes glittered with excitement. ‘The Godfather.’
A chill spread out from the base of Josie’s spine, and she shivered. ‘It’s like something out of a Dan Brown novel. How do you know all this?’
Nate rubbed a warm hand across her shoulders. ‘The Great Seal of the United States contains a pyramid with the all seeing eye of God in the detached part of the apex. The most famous display of it is on their one dollar bill, right there along with the American bald eagle.’
Josie swivelled in her chair and looked at Nate. ‘And this is all about money.’
‘It’s all about money,’ Nate agreed. ‘Laundering dirty money until it passes through so many different entities, it’s clean when it comes out the other end.’
‘Should we be looking for an American connection?’ asked Dickson.
Nate was silent for a few moments. ‘Anything’s possible. Providence could be the final company before the money’s transferred offshore for all we know.’
‘The Cayman Islands — Bermuda…’ It was Dickson’s turn to muse.
‘Look.’ Nate straightened up, hands resting lightly on his hips. ‘We can study this all day, and we should, but I still maintain our best chance is old-fashioned detective surveillance. We get a visual on the guy picking up the money tomorrow, and the rest will fall into place.’
Troubled thoughts crowded into Josie’s mind. Where had she come across that damn name? That weird looking symbol?
‘Hey.’ Nate touched the side of her hair. ‘Don’t worry too much about the Grace and Poole connection. It could be something simple, like the firm acted for the plaintiff, with Providence on the other side.’
‘That doesn’t make sense. Allegra’s a criminal defence expert.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t in her section,’ put in Dickson. ‘Do you work for anyone else?’
‘Occasionally for Simon Poole. Allegra reports directly to him.’
Nate and Dickson exchanged worried glances, and Josie thought of Lizard Mulvaney, desperate enough to track her down on Skype in his effort to contact Allegra.
Nate checked his watch. ‘Let’s search Eagle Eye Pty. Limited and Alessandro David, not that I’m expecting information on him will be easy to find. Then we’ll have dinner and get an early night.’
He stared broodingly at her reddened jaw where Barry Simpson had hit her, mouth pulled into a firm line. ‘We hardly slept last night, and we have a monster day tomorrow. It’s crucial we be at the top of our game.’
Hours later, Nate’s warm body was pressed up against her, one strong arm wrapped around her middle. ‘Happy Birthday.’
Limbs heavy with a delicious lethargy, Josie forced her eyes open and squinted at the digital clock. ‘It’s only ten o’clock. You’re two hours early.’
She’d barely been asleep twenty minutes, spent from their lovemaking and the bottle of Grange they’d shared in bed. Despite their grim situation, it was the best birthday she’d ever had.
‘You need to sleep.’ Contrary to his words, Nate dragged the sheet lower and kissed the tip of her shoulder.
Josie smiled and turned to face him. In the flickering light from the television, his hair appeared darker than ever, warm, whiskey coloured eyes widening as she pressed her breasts against his warm chest.
‘How can I sleep if you keep waking me up?’
His arms tightened around her and he rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘I’m serious. I want to stay up until midnight, but these celebrations will keep until later tomorrow. I want you alert in the morning, for your own safety.’
She traced an index finger along his stubbled jaw. ‘You too, detective.’
His chest rose and fell in a silent laugh. ‘This isn’t saying much, but I can handle my alcohol better than you, princess. I thought you would have worked up more of a tolerance over the last two years.’
Grinning at his teasing, she hauled herself up and straddled him, pressing his shoulders into the mattress with her hands. ‘Are you calling me a Cadbury?’
‘Yep. I’ll have to watch you.’ He reached up and pushed her hair back from her face. ‘A glass and a half and you’re anybody’s.’
‘I wouldn’t say anybody’s.’ Loving the way his eyes were positively drinking her in, she leaned over and spoke against his lips. ‘I think I’m quite fussy about who warms my bed, and I love you watching me.’
She squealed as he flipped her on her back and rose over her, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. ‘I must say, princess, your recovery rate is impressive.’
Then suddenly her father’s voice broke into the room. Nate froze, and then they were both scrambling into a sitting position and Nate was grabbing for the remote and turning up the volume.
‘Despite the best efforts of police and everyone involved, to date our attempts to find our daughter have failed.’
‘Oh Dad,’ Josie whispered, horrified at her father’s hollow cheeks and the dark circles ringing his puffy eyes. ‘Where’s Mum? She should be with you.’
‘Despite this, my wife Marilyn and I will not give up in our quest to find Josie, who was to turn twenty-one tomorrow.’
At this point, her father’s voice broke, and Josie’s heart seemed to break right along with it. Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks while her father struggled to bring his emotions under control.
Beside her, Nate dragged in an uneven breath as her picture appeared on screen.
‘The police are following certain lines of investigation, concentrating on vehicles known to be in the area at the time of my
daughter’s disappearance. Again, I plead with members of the public. If you are in possession of any information, please call police on the number below. Thank you.’
Her Dad disappeared from the screen, and the news anchor looked directly into the camera and began wrapping up the story. ‘Details of the reward on offer, for information pertaining to the disappearance of Josephine Valenti, can be found on our website.’
Nate turned off the TV, plunging the room into darkness.
‘Everything will be alright,’ he murmured, pulling her into his warm embrace. He reached down and dragged the coverlet over both of them. ‘This time tomorrow, everything will be better, I promise. Please don’t cry, princess.’
Nate’s kind voice only made her worse. A few days ago, she’d vowed not to cry in front of him, but now she couldn’t care less about her silly pledge as salty tears drenched his neck and chest. Seeing her ordinarily strong father emotionally fragile like that, it just about killed her. She heard his words over and over, ‘our daughter, who was to turn twenty-one tomorrow.’
She slipped her arm around Nate’s waist and burrowed closer, trying to stem the tears as he murmured in her ear and his fingers combed through her hair.
For it was like, deep in her father’s heart, he already believed her dead.
Chapter 22
7:00 a.m. Thursday
Without warning, Nate’s voice came through the micro receiver ear bud fitted snugly into Josie’s left ear canal. ‘Leaving compound now. I have combination for Locker 17, Fit Forever. Copy.’
Heart thudding in time with the hanging clock chiming from the floor above, Josie stared blindly at the jewellery display in Pandora’s window.
Then Dickson’s voice came through the earpiece, the clarity amazing, considering how quietly he spoke. ‘Locker 17, Fit Forever.’
There was a pause, a throaty rev from the bike, and then Nate spoke again. ‘Only a member or a regular attendee would have a permanent locker. Repeat. I have the combination for Locker 17. We’re looking for a member, or a regular attendee. Copy.’
There was a long pause.
Josie held her breath and stared at her reflection in the jewellery shop window.
Then Dickson spoke again. ‘Copy that.’
She turned and headed for the stairs which led to the lower level of the Queen Victoria Building, heels clicking on the mosaic tiles of the central lobby. She could imagine Dickson in the gym, pretending to be listening to music while working out on a recumbent bike or treadmill. Was the collector already there, lifting weights or using a nearby machine? Or would he arrive ten, twenty, even thirty minutes after Nate had deposited the money in Locker 17 and begun his own workout.
There was no way of knowing, though both men were confident the cash wouldn’t be left in the locker for long.
The lower ground floor was a thoroughfare of office workers in transit from Town Hall Station to the city, and Josie easily joined the throng, stepping onto the down escalator and hitching the new leather handbag higher on her shoulder. Staring at the crowd from behind clear black rimmed glasses, she pressed her fingertips lightly to her chest, feeling for the necklace containing the tiny transmitter, hidden beneath the zipped up jacket of the grey suit.
Almost half the tables in the Coffee Bean Cafe were vacant, and in minutes she was sitting directly across from Uptown Drycleaning, with an unobstructed view of the shop.
She ordered bacon and eggs, toast and tea, and when the waiter retreated, she reached into her bag and took out the special smart phone with the inbuilt, long distance video camera. She only had to pick up the device and the camera would do its thing, recording everyone using the drycleaners. Best of all, the screen display and phone continued to work as normal.
Perspiring beneath the wig, Josie glanced at the other patrons. Most were business men and women, stopping for a quick coffee, or breakfast on the way to the office. Some were using their phones, others reading through notes, or engrossed in the morning papers.
No-one even looked her way.
She was flicking through a magazine when a small man of Asian appearance unlocked the drycleaners and switched on the lights. He flipped the sign from “Closed” to “Open” and shut the door behind him, retreating to the rear of the shop.
Doing her best to appear relaxed, Josie gazed over the top of the magazine then glanced at her watch.
7:10 a.m.
Ong Chung was open for business.
At seven thirty, Nate parked the bike in the underground QVB car park.
Dressed in jeans, a plain black tee-shirt and boots, he slung his back pack over his shoulder and stowed the leather bike jacket and helmet inside the storage compartment. Then he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the lower ground level.
Anxious to check on Josie, he slipped on black sunglasses and headed for the drycleaners. She should have picked up the exchange between him and Dickson, and if everything had gone to plan she would now be in position, recording customers dropping off and collecting clothes. As yet, he’d received no message from her, and that was reassuring, would indicate she hadn’t run into any kind of trouble. He’d feel better once he had a visual on her, better again once her part was done and she could return to the safety of the hotel.
Nate caught sight of the auburn wig long before he reached the cafe. He stopped and pretended to study some expensive leather goods displayed in a shop window while he checked his reflection. All good. He looked no different to half the population on their morning commute, listening to music on his phone’s inbuilt music player.
‘Approaching drycleaners, copy,’ he murmured, confident the inbuilt microphone attached to the cord would pick up his words without a problem.
‘Copy that.’ Despite the high energy music blaring from the gym, Nate easily heard Dickson’s reply.
Ahead of him, Josie lowered the magazine, an indication she too had heard the exchange, and for the first time since leaving the hotel at five a.m., Nate breathed a little easier. He drew level with the cafe, watched her spoon sugar into her tea and stir, a signal everything was fine. In response, he removed his sunglasses just before he pushed open the door of the drycleaners.
Ong Chung emerged from the rear of the shop, skirting around the items of clean clothing hanging from an alphabetised circular rack.
The man was small, coarse black hair streaked with grey, and he didn’t make eye contact as he came towards Nate, a bunch of wire hangers clutched in one hand.
‘Yes?’ he said by way of greeting.
‘Morning.’ Nate slid the backpack from his shoulder, grateful there was no one else in the shop to witness his first drop.
‘Trains are late this morning.’ He recited the words as per Kennett’s instructions.
The man put the wire hangers on the laminated counter, and if he were surprised to see Nate standing there instead of Grassy, he didn’t let it show on his face.
Nate waited for the scripted response.
‘It’s happening more and more.’
And there it was!
Ong spoke with a heavy Vietnamese accent, nervous eyes flicking towards the door, as if he wanted the exchange made before someone else came into the shop.
That made two of them.
Nate unzipped his backpack and pulled out the blue linen drawstring bag Kennett had given him at the compound. The bag was heavier than it looked, weighed down by bundles of cash zipped inside the deep pockets of a jacket.
‘I spilt red wine on my windbreaker.’ He loosened the drawstring a bit so Ong could see the material. ‘Are you able to get it out?’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem.’ Still refusing to make eye contact, the man took the bag and stowed it beneath the counter. ‘You can pick it up after eleven tomorrow.’
‘Thanks.’ Nate zipped up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He wouldn’t be coming back for the jacket. He’d be coming back to arrest Ong Chung.
‘Have a good day.’
&n
bsp; Ong Chung was now in possession of a serious bundle of cash, but where the money went after that was anyone’s guess. Josie would continue to linger in the vicinity of the shop while he was in the gym. Hopefully, one of the photographs would show a customer leaving the drycleaners, carrying the blue draw string bag.
It was a long shot.
But a shot worth taking.
Nate opened the door and stepped outside, sliding on his sunglasses and glancing at Josie for a couple of seconds. She was biting into some toast and turning the page of a magazine. She didn’t even look up.
Good girl, he thought, with a sudden rush of affection. It was hard putting any member of the public in danger, particularly one as important to him as Josie. It just went against his natural instinct to protect. And she would never know how much it had torn him up — asking her to do this — on her twenty-first birthday of all days.
The age old adage “the greater the risk the greater the reward” came to mind.
It didn’t only apply to the stock market.
Nate shrugged the backpack more securely onto his shoulder and walked quickly towards the escalator which would take him up a level. Fit Forever was situated in one corner of the building at street level. Access was via George Street or from inside the Queen Victoria Building itself. A large, open space with a bank of lockers built along one wall, the gym provided the best chance of a sighting.
A light sheen of sweat broke out on Nate’s forehead. He needed to get in there fast. Dickson had been working out for over an hour. Any longer, and he’d start attracting attention.
Up ahead, the gym’s blue opalescent sign came into view.
Nate checked his watch.
7:45 a.m.
Even in Grassy’s unhealthy state, Kennett had insisted he do a minimum half hour of exercise following the drop. To leave right away would have created suspicion, and Grassy was a suspicious looking character at the best of times.
Nate was fitter, and he could easily stretch the session to an hour.
In Safe Arms Page 16
