Deadly Diplomacy: Jess Turner in Australia (Diplomatic Crime Book 1)

by Jean Harrod

  Mind made up, she tucked the diary in her bag and walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

  *

  Collecting a copy of the press lines, Jess walked out of the business centre and into the lobby. She could have been in an up-market hotel in any Western city. Grey marble covered the floor and pillars, and a decorative fireplace stood at the far end, with several plump-cushioned sofas and chairs scattered around for guests to sink into. Sitting down at a glass-topped table, she scanned the faces looking for Susan Chambers. Ellen had looked slim and attractive in that newspaper photo, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Would Susan look like her sister?

  Behind the wood-panelled desk, a receptionist was checking-in a group of noisy Indonesian tourists. She looked miserable. All the staff did. They kept giving each other nervous glances, and huddling in groups to chat whenever they got the chance. Jess could feel the tension. Hardly surprising since a guest had been viciously murdered in the grounds, and the police were swarming all over.

  As she sat observing, goose bumps rose on her arms. She felt a presence, as if someone was watching her. She looked up, but couldn’t see anyone particularly interested in her. Uneasy, she pulled out her mobile and dialled Simon. His phone switched to voicemail. “I’m at The Palms, Simon. Call me back please.”

  She looked around again and rubbed her arms to get rid of the chill. Sitting there idly, she remembered the diary in her bag. She pulled it out and laid it on the table. The cover was made of red leather, with the year in gold lettering. It looked expensive. Opening the front cover, she saw Ellen Chambers’ name and contact details written by hand. Jess hesitated. It seemed wrong to delve into Ellen’s personal diary, macabre even, given the circumstances. But she was so drawn to it, she couldn’t help but flick through the pages.

  The first thing she noticed was Ellen’s neat and legible handwriting. Every one of her appointments had a precise name, with contact details and meeting venue recorded next to the date and time. Ellen Chambers had been a highly organised woman, she thought. Nothing had been left to memory or chance. Reading on, Jess saw that Ellen had spent alternate months in the UK and Australia since the beginning of the year. And she’d visited Beijing at the end of March and... oh, that was interesting, she’d only just returned from a second trip to Beijing.

  Reaching the back page, Jess’s eyes stopped on several lines of random letters and numbers written in Ellen’s neat handwriting. She studied them but they didn’t seem to make any sense. She counted the lines. Six in total; but what did they mean? Were they some kind of code? Or passwords perhaps?

  As she sat mulling things over in her logical mind, something seemed out of place. She flicked back through the pages, studying all the entries as she went. Then she saw it. Ellen had entered every appointment in the same precise way, except for regular entries marked TH that had no name or contact details beside them. Who or what was TH, Jess wondered.

  “Oh!” A sudden movement made her jump, and she looked up at the heart-shaped face of a young woman who’d slipped into the chair opposite. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up and looked almost boyish with spiky blonde hair that stood fashionably on end. The young woman flicked a nervous glance over her shoulder and turned back.

  Jess smiled. “Hello. I’m Jessica Turner,” she said, holding out her hand. “You must be Susan Chambers.”

  Feverish, blue eyes stared at Jess. “You must help me find my sister’s killer.”

  Jess dropped her hand. “That’s a job for the police.”

  Susan struggled to keep her voice down. “My sister’s dead. She’s a British citizen. I want to know what you’re doing about it.”

  Jess put her hand on Ellen’s diary, bracing herself for the rage that might come flying her way like spewing lava from a volcano. Relatives reacted differently to tragic news about their loved ones. Some collapsed with grief, while others vented their fury on someone else. And who better than a Government official? “The Queensland Police are leading the investigation,” Jess said, calmly. “We’re on Australian territory, so the investigation is their responsibility.”

  “Why are you here, then?”

  “To liaise with the police, and check that everything is being done in accordance with Australian law and practice.” Jess could hear herself trotting out the official line. “And I wanted to see you, Susan.”

  Susan glanced over at the door. “You must get Scotland Yard over.”

  The fear in Susan’s eyes when she turned back threw Jess for a moment. What was the girl so afraid of? “They could help, but only if the Australian police ask them to,” Jess replied, “for example, if part of their investigation took them to the UK, or involved somebody living in the UK. But, as I explained, it’s the responsibility of the Australian police to...”

  “No! They got her killed.”

  “The police?”

  “Listen... please.” Susan leant towards her. “I saw Ellen at the Convention Centre yesterday. I thought I’d surprise her, I hadn’t seen her for ages. But when I got there she was really upset. She said she was in trouble.”

  Jess’s mind flashed to the corruption allegations. “What kind of trouble?” she asked, warily.

  “I don’t know.” Susan wrung her hands. “Ellen started to tell me. She said something about having some evidence. But then she just clammed up. Said she didn’t want to put me in danger by telling me.” Susan got more agitated. “I said I’d help her; I’d go with her to the police. But that’s when she got really upset and blurted out we couldn’t trust them.”

  “The police?”

  “Yes. Ellen said over and over it wasn’t safe to go to the police. She begged me not to either.”

  “And you’ve no idea why?” Again, Jess thought of those corruption allegations. Susan clearly didn’t know her sister had been under police surveillance when she was murdered. But had Ellen found out? Is that the reason she was afraid of the police?

  Susan’s eyes flashed. “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. But Ellen wasn’t crazy or paranoid. She was a professional woman in a high-powered job. If she said it wasn’t safe to go to the police, then she believed it.”

  Jess couldn’t argue with that logic.

  “The money is the trail.” Susan’s top lip quivered. “That’s the last thing Ellen said to me. If anything happens to me, Susan, the money is the trail.” Susan caught her breath. “But I’ve no idea what she was talking about.” She held her hands together on the table to stop them shaking. “I should have stayed with her... insisted she tell me... done something.”

  Seeing the despair on that young face, Jess laid her hand over Susan’s to comfort her. But Susan jerked it away. Then her shoulders slumped and her eyes brimmed with tears.

  The money is the trail? Jess’s mind flashed to that old Washington chestnut – illegal intelligence activities by the Nixon administration. What had Ellen been trying to tell her sister? That there was some kind of cover up going on? How mad was that? Jess glanced at Susan. She only looked about 20; and far too young to remember the Watergate scandal. And Jess wasn’t going to plant any wild thoughts into her head. Anyway, her priority now was to get more information about the deceased. “Susan, can you tell me more about your sister?” she asked, gently.

  Susan bit her lip to stop it quivering. “She’s all the family I have... had. Mum and Dad are dead.” A single tear squeezed out of her eye, and she brushed it away angrily.

  “Why was Ellen staying in this hotel and not with you?” Jess asked.

  “She said it was easier to stay here for business, but...” Susan stopped and stared into Jess’s eyes as if she were sizing her up, then she went on: “But I think there was another reason.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, my sister was very ambitious. All she ever thought about was work. She loved her job.” Susan’s face softened as she talked about Ellen. “She is... was... Western Energy’s Group Finance Director, you know.”

  Jess nodded.


  “And the Chairman had asked her to come over to work permanently in Australia.” She looked up proudly. “He wanted her to be the CEO.”

  “Really?” Jess remembered the Company website. “Don’t they already have one?”

  “Yes, Richard Price. But he’s a liability.” Susan pursed her lips. “He’s got a drink problem; knocked someone down while over the limit. There was such a stink. We did a piece about it in the Echo. Ellen said the bad publicity was the last straw for the Chairman. He’s been wanting to get rid of Richard ever since.”

  “I see. So did Ellen want the CEO’s job?”

  Susan nodded. “She seemed over the moon about it, at first. And she definitely wanted to move to Oz.”

  “At first?”

  Susan shrugged. “Ellen seemed to change recently. She seemed happier, more relaxed somehow.” Susan lowered her voice. “I think there was a new man around.”

  Ah, thought Jess. “Didn’t she introduce you to him?”

  Susan frowned. “That’s the funny thing. I was sure she had a new man, but she never talked about him or brought him home.” She stared at Jess. “I thought, well, I thought it must be someone she didn’t want me, or anyone, to know about – if you get my drift.”

  Jess nodded.

  “But then, if he was married,” Susan continued, “Ellen knew she could trust me.” She slumped down in the chair and stared morosely into the distance.

  There was a pause while Jess turned everything over in her mind, wondering what consular assistance she could give Susan. “Do you have any family in Brisbane? Cousins, or anyone else?”

  Susan shook her head.

  “What about in the UK?”

  Susan shook her head again. “I’d like to let Ellen’s friends in the UK know what’s happened, but I don’t have their contact details.”

  Jess felt the palm of her hand shift on the diary. The address book at the back would surely have them?

  Susan caught the movement and looked down. “That’s Ellen’s! I gave it to her last Christmas.” Susan’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get hold of my sister’s diary?”

  “A hotel cleaner found it in Ellen’s room and gave it to me on the stairs,” Jess said in a level voice. “I’m going to give it to Inspector Sangster.”

  “No!” Susan grabbed the diary and clutched it to her chest. She looked over her shoulder at the door again, as if she were about to bolt.

  “Put the diary down, Susan.”

  But Susan clung onto it.

  Trying to distract her, Jess asked: “Do you live permanently in Brisbane, Susan?”

  Susan shook her head. “I’ve been in Australia a year on a training placement at the Echo. Look, are you going to help me find Ellen’s killer, or not?”

  “I’ve already explained that’s a job for the police.”

  “Please! You must help me.”

  The pain in Susan’s eyes unnerved Jess for a moment and she looked away only to see that rude oaf from the first floor heading in their direction. Her heart sank when he stopped at their table. “Susan Chambers?” He looked at them both in turn.

  Susan tensed at her name.

  “Inspector Tom Sangster, Queensland Police Service.” He extended his hand to her. “I’m leading the investigation into your sister’s death. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  Susan ignored his hand. “Have you found her murderer yet?” she asked, accusingly.

  Only the slightest hesitation suggested he was surprised at Susan’s reaction. “I assure you we’re working hard on it.”

  “What exactly are you doing?”

  He dropped his hand. “Look, can we go somewhere private to talk, Miss Chambers?”

  Jess stood up. “You both stay here and talk. I’ll wait outside on the terrace.”

  “No.” Susan pointed at Jess. “You can say whatever you want in front of her.”

  The Inspector extended his hand to Jess. “We’ve met, I think?”

  Jess noticed the pink spots on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed or cross? She shook his hand. “Jessica Turner, British Consul.” The surprised look in his eyes gave her some satisfaction. Over his shoulder, she saw another policeman standing at reception, waving an envelope. “Is that for you, Inspector?”

  Sangster turned and beckoned his colleague over.

  The officer approached and held out his hand to Jess. “DS Dalton,” he said.

  Dalton’s hand felt clammy as Jess shook it. Carrying more weight than he should for his height, he looked like he was suffering for it. But he sounded so sincere when he expressed his condolences that Jess warmed to him.

  When he turned to have a private conversation with the Inspector, Jess whispered to Susan. “You have to accept they’re responsible for the investigation. Tell them everything you’ve just told me. It’s the only way.”

  Susan looked devastated. “If you won’t help me, I’ve no one else to turn to.”

  Her words struck right at Jess’s core. “Of course I’m going to help you, Susan, but you must talk to the police first. Now,” Jess held her hand out for the diary. “I’ll be waiting outside on the terrace for you.”

  But Susan hugged the diary tighter. “I’ll give it to Inspector Sangster.”

  Jess’s ringing mobile distracted her and she checked the caller ID. The High Commissioner! “I have to take this call, Susan,” she said. “Now don’t worry. I’ll just be outside. We can talk again when you’ve finished with the Inspector.” And with that, Jess hurried out of the door to the terrace, where the mobile signal was stronger.

  10

  He drove through the traffic, keeping his eyes glued to the target ahead like the expert he knew he was. Although he couldn’t see through the black Mercedes’ tinted windows, he knew the target was alone and driving himself. He couldn’t believe his luck.

  He blinked when the sun came out from behind a cloud, and his foot hesitated over the accelerator. Broad daylight wasn’t a good time for what he was about to do. But he couldn’t wait for nightfall. He had to stop that bastard before he could do any more damage.

  He looked at his watch – 2.15.

  Pulling the peak of his cap down over his eyes, he pressed down on the accelerator and moved back into the inside lane to keep a car between him and his prey.

  Look at you in your limousine, driving along like you own the world. You should have been happy, you know. You had everything. But it still wasn’t enough. Oh no, you wanted more.

  As the traffic lights ahead turned red, a woman stepped out in front of him to cross the road. He had to stamp on the brakes to avoid hitting her. The jeep screeched to a stop.

  The woman’s dark eyes glared at him through the windscreen.

  He frowned at the familiar image. Dark, staring eyes. Her... lying dead on the kitchen floor. He could feel the knife... the blood.

  Why was he thinking about her again now? He had to focus. Seeing the cars ahead start moving, he slipped the jeep into drive and started following again. When the black Mercedes turned left and began to slow down, he almost smiled. Now he knew exactly where the bastard was going. And he was just in time by the look of it.

  The Mercedes pulled up alongside the kerb. He stopped a short distance behind and pushed the gear into park. This was good. Divine justice. He’d do it right outside their front door. He pulled on his gloves, and reached under his jacket to draw his gun. Leaving the engine running, he got out of the driver’s seat, walked calmly up to the Mercedes, opened the back passenger door and slid inside.

  Before the bastard could even turn around, he pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of his head and ducked down behind the seat.

  “Greed,” he hissed, as he pulled the trigger. “That was your mistake!”

  The silent bullet made an exhilarating sound as it thudded into flesh and bone.

  He waited for that ecstatic ripple of excitement to shiver right through him... and waited. Nothing.

  Angry and frustrated, he looked at the body slum
ped over the steering wheel and shoved the gun back into its holster. Grabbing the bastard’s hair, he pulled him back into the upright position with one hand and drew his knife from its sheath with the other.

  You wanted more, you greedy bastard. Well, here it is!

  11

  Jess leant back in her wrought-iron chair and looked up at the grape vines overhead. Their twisted branches, lying dormant after an August winter pruning, crept into all the crevices of the wooden trellis. She could imagine their green leaves fanning out to provide shade for the tables and chairs on the back terrace in summer.

  She turned back to her laptop and forced herself to get on with her report. It had to be on desks when London opened.

  Dear Colleagues,

  DEATH OF BRITISH CITIZEN, ELLEN CHAMBERS: UPDATE

  I have arrived at Queensland’s Palms Resort. The police confirm Ellen Chambers, Western Energy’s Group Finance Director, was found dead on the Resort beach at around 5am this morning. Inspector Tom Sangster, Queensland Police Service, who is leading the investigation, has announced a full murder enquiry.

  Ellen Chambers was resident in the UK and worked at Western Energy’s London HQ. She’d been visiting Australia regularly over the past year to take part in the negotiation of a lucrative Liquefied Natural Gas (LNG) deal with the Chinese.

  Ellen was in Brisbane to attend her Company Conference when she was killed. The Conference opens today at the Convention Centre and runs until Thursday. The Chairman of Western Energy, John Langhurst, and CEO Richard Price are in town for the Conference too.

  A piercing scream rang out.

  Jess jumped up, but it was only children splashing each other in the shallows on the beach. Her mobile rang.

  “Hi, Jess.”

  “Simon. You sound breathless.”

  “I’ve ducked out of the Parliament lunch to call you back. I haven’t got long.”

  “Right. Well, I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” she said, frostily. “Why didn’t you tell me the Australian Federal Police were investigating Ellen Chambers when she was murdered?”