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

by Jean Harrod

  Dalton’s face broke into a smile.

  Sangster nodded. “I’m going to pick them up on my way back to HQ. Susan’s still got that diary. We have to protect them from that maniac.

  28

  “Don’t worry,” Jess said, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. She peered at the CCTV monitor. It all looked quiet outside the Consulate-General front door. She glanced over at Susan’s exhausted face. The poor girl hadn’t eaten or slept since she’d heard about her sister’s murder. Jess needed to do something about that.

  “Now, we’re going to take the lift to the basement car park, Susan.” She tried to sound reassuring. “We’ll get my car, and drive straight to the Riverbank Hotel. It’s not far away, but we may need the car later. We can check into a room, get cleaned up and have something to eat. Then we’ll decide what to do. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Susan repeated.

  Jess squeezed her hand. The High Commissioner had told her to take Susan to Police HQ and stay there until he arrived. But Susan wouldn’t hear of it. She refused point blank. But she had agreed to go to the Riverbank. So that was a first step. “Now whatever happens, Susan, we must stay together.” She unlocked the front door, and peered out. Where was that police officer Tom was supposed to be sending over? They’d been waiting for over an hour. More likely, they were too stretched to spare anyone. She pulled out her mobile and dialled Sangster to check, but she got the engaged tone. “Tom,” she said, leaving a message. “Just to let you know your police officer never showed up. Anyway, I’m taking Susan to the Riverbank now. I know you’re busy so I’ll talk to you later.” She turned to Susan. “Come on,” she said and stepped outside the front door.

  Susan followed.

  “Press for the lift while I lock up.”

  Susan did as she was told. But there was no sound of the lift cranking up.

  “Press again.” Jess tried to sound calm, as she walked over to the stairwell door and peered through the glass window at the top. All quiet.

  Susan stabbed the lift button again and again with her finger until they heard the motor start. They stood listening while the lift came up to their floor. Jess could feel her heart hammering. She was holding her breath as the lift stopped on their floor and the doors slid open.

  “It’s empty.” Susan breathed.

  In a flash, they were inside and pressing for the basement garage. The doors closed. They watched the button of each floor light up as they descended. Jess’s finger hovered over the lobby button. Should they stop and check for that police officer? No, better not.

  The lift shuddered to a halt in the basement garage. Keeping her finger on the ‘open lift’ button, Jess peered out. Dimly lit, with concrete walls and floors, it looked more like a bunker. She scanned the empty garage... the shadowy pillars.

  “Where’s your car?” Susan whispered.

  “Not far from the exit. It’s the white Holden.” Jess pulled the car keys out of her pocket. “Come on.” She strode out of the lift then stopped. Her heels clicking on the concrete floor sounded like machine gun fire in the enclosed space. Rising onto her tiptoes, she scurried over to her car and pressed the zapper to open the doors.

  Nothing happened.

  She pressed again. “It won’t open.”

  Suddenly the sound of the lift motor firing up was magnified in the silence.

  “Quick!” Susan hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

  Hands shaking, Jess rammed the ignition key into the door lock. To her relief, it clicked open. She slipped inside and opened the passenger door.

  “Go!” Susan shouted as she jumped in.

  Jess fired up the ignition, and reversed out of the parking bay, tyres squealing on the smooth surface. She accelerated towards the exit, then slammed her foot on the brakes. The security grill was down.

  Susan had seen it and was out of the car in a flash. She pressed the button to open it and jumped back in the car.

  They sat watching the grill inch its way up.

  “Come on!” Susan twisted in her seat to look over her shoulder.

  Jess caught a flash of movement in her rear-view mirror. She inched the car closer to the grill. It hadn’t risen enough to get under. She squirmed in her seat as she looked in her driver mirror at a shadowy figure coming up from behind.

  Her palms felt damp as she gripped the wheel. “Hold on, Susan.” She took her foot off the brake, and stamped on the accelerator. “Duck!” she shouted as she drove the car straight at the rising grill.

  There was a loud scraping noise across the roof as the car shot under the metal shutter and out into the night.

  *

  Jess drove, grim-faced, with one eye on the road and the other in the rear-view mirror. All she could see were dazzling headlights in front and behind. She was conscious of Susan twisting round in her seat to look out of the back window.

  “Slow down, Jess. The Riverbank is just up on the right.”

  Spotting the hotel, Jess brought the car to a stop and manoeuvered into a parking space in the middle of a row of cars. She immediately switched off the engine and lights. “Have we lost him?”

  Susan looked in her passenger mirror, then over her shoulder again. “I think so. I can’t see anyone stopping.”

  “Did you get a look at him?”

  “No. Did you?”

  “No.” All Jess had seen was a dark shadow running up behind the car. But it was him. She was sure of that. It wasn’t only the dark clothes, it was the way he moved, so quick and agile. She glanced across at the hotel entrance. A doorman stood in the doorway, while a porter loitered on the steps ready to pounce on any guest with a suitcase. Should she leave the car parked on the street, or drive into the hotel’s underground car park? In the silence, she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She checked both wing mirrors. No one on the pavement, and no headlights in her rear-view mirror.

  Relaxing her grip on the steering wheel, she looked up at the sky. There was no moon now. The cloud cover made the night even darker, and a mist was rolling in from the river. Or was it mist? She wrinkled her nose. Was that smoke she could smell? She glanced over at the hotel again. Her eyes latched onto a familiar figure coming out. “That’s Richard Price!” Wiping the condensation from the window with the back of her hand to see better, she watched him stop under a street lamp to light up a cigarette. “There’s no mistaking those specs.”

  Susan leant across her to get a better look.

  Over the road, Price paced about, puffing on his cigarette. He was looking up and down the street as if waiting for someone. “Did Ellen ever mention him?” Jess asked.

  “Ellen never talked about any of her work colleagues.”

  “So what have you found out about him?” Jess asked, dryly. “He must be on your list.”

  Susan gave her the ghost of a smile. “He was divorced from his wife recently. And his credit rating has been downgraded. Strange for someone in his position, I thought. So I did some digging. His wife got their two properties after the divorce. He kept the financial investments, but he’s lost most of it to the financial crash.”

  Jess had to hand it to Susan, she was going to be a great investigative journalist one day.

  “Which means,” Susan continued, “he couldn’t afford to lose his job to my sister. Perhaps he’s been the one taking bribes from the Chinese?”

  Price looked at his watch again and threw his cigarette butt onto the ground. As if on impulse, he stepped into the road and hailed down a passing taxi. Jumping inside, the taxi moved off.

  “Quick,” said Susan. “Follow him.”

  Jess was about to switch on the engine, but stopped. “No, it’s too dangerous. Let’s stick to the plan.” She pulled out her mobile.

  “Who are you phoning?”

  “Tom Sangster. To tell him where we are.”

  Susan glared at her.

  “He’s the only one who can help us now. As I said, the High Commissioner wants us to go to Police HQ and wait for
him there. He’s coming up to Brisbane tonight.”

  “And as I said, I’d rather wait in the hotel until he gets here. It’d be safer.”

  “Safer?. All Jess’s emotions were bubbling up again. Anger seemed to be pouring out of her. “We’d be safer without that bloody diary. If we’d given it to the police yesterday afternoon, we wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

  “If I’d given it to him, you mean?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It’s what you meant though.”

  Jess pursed her lips.

  Susan stared at her. “And Anthony Harris and Danny Burton might still be alive... Go on. Say it.”

  And someone else is dead too, Jess thought, wishing she knew who the latest victim was. “It’s time to hand over that diary, Susan. It’s not worth your life, or mine.” Jess’s head was throbbing as, in the distance, she became aware of sirens.

  “Okay, Jess.” Susan’s voice sounded weary. “We’ll do it your way. Let’s go and get the diary.”

  “Where is it?”

  “At my house.”

  “All this time?”

  “It’s well hidden.”

  “Right.” Jess picked up her mobile from her lap. “I’m calling Tom Sangster first.”

  Susan put her hand on her arm. “Let’s get the diary first. We can call him from my house.”

  “It’s too dangerous to go alone, Susan.”

  The wailing sirens were getting louder and louder now. Suddenly, a fire engine flashed by the end of the street. “I thought I could smell smoke.” Jess sat forward. “Where’s the fire?”

  The hotel porter ran out onto the road to get a better look as another two fire engines flashed by. Jess wound down the driver’s window and stuck her head out. The smell of smoke hung thick in the air. “The fire’s close!”

  But Susan was already out of the car and running over to the porter. He started talking to her and pointing excitedly.

  Jess waited, frustrated, in two minds: the safety of the hotel or go and get that diary?

  Susan ran back and jumped into the car. “There’s a fire at my paper, the Echo... You don’t think it’s because of me, do you?” She put her head in her hands as reality struck home. “Does someone think I left the diary there?” Distraught, she turned to Jess. “Tell me it’s not possible.”

  Jess reached over and squeezed her hand. “We don’t know what’s happening.”

  Two haunted eyes looked over at her. “This is all my fault.”

  Jess said nothing.

  Then, as if she’d flipped a switch, Susan said. “Quick, swap seats. We have to go past the Echo to get to my house. It’ll be quicker with me driving. I know the way.”

  *

  Jess sat rigid in the passenger seat, gripping the armrest with one hand, and her mobile with the other. Oh my God,. she whispered, as Susan pulled the car up alongside the kerb some distance from the fire and stared in horror at the scene. The gagging smoke filled the atmosphere, making them cough.

  Down the street, Jess could see the road blocked by fire engines, their lights flashing in the darkness. A lone police officer stood in front waving his arms and hands, trying to turn traffic and people away.

  Her chest tightened as she watched huge plumes of black smoke billow out of the windows of the lower floors.

  Suddenly a loud explosion blasted from within the building, blowing out windows and shattering glass. She could hear shouting and screaming, as the fire gathered momentum, shooting flames into the sky. Ash, smoke and debris from the explosion fell onto the car and all around them. She could hear squealing tyres as nearby traffic ground to a halt.

  Squealing tyres...

  Jess froze. She closed her eyes, and saw little Amy waving through the car window. G’bye mummy!

  The sound of crashing metal. Boom... the crack of the explosion, like thunder reverberating around. She could feel the heat of the flames, spiralling up from the street into the sky, smell the thick, acrid smoke that stung her eyes and clogged her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Amy! Jack!” she cried out. “Oh no!” Her heart was racing, her body trembling as once again she saw her beautiful daughter and husband being ripped apart by the explosion and burnt to ashes in the heat and flames as they sat trapped in the car. Obliterated...

  “Jess?”

  She couldn’t answer Susan.

  “Jess, what’s wrong?”

  She stared blindly ahead.

  “Jess?”

  She could hear the rising panic in Susan’s voice and dragged her hands up over her eyes. “The fire and explosion,” she whispered, fighting to control her emotions. “The fire and explosion – in Jakarta – my husband and daughter.”

  “Jess?”

  “I can’t get the sight out of my head... I see it every day... a nightmare. That day... the accident... over and over.” Her rasping breath filled the silence. “I’m standing in the hallway... I can hear tyres... I-I hear crashing metal... a loud explosion... I can feel the heat of the flames... smell the choking smoke. I can’t breathe... I can’t move... I can’t get to Jack and Amy... I’ll never get to them...”

  Susan stared at her, eyes wide.

  Gasping for air, Jess went on: “A petrol tanker smashed into Jack’s car as he turned out of the driveway, and burst into flames.” Jess struggled to find the words. “My little girl, I see her face every single day. She was so full of life.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “And it was all my fault.”

  There, it was, out in the open, finally.

  There was a shocked silence.

  “Your fault?”

  Jess nodded.

  “I don’t understand. You said it was an accident?”

  Jess shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.”

  Susan sank back in the seat. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. They’re gone. And I have to live with that.” Jess took a deep breath. “And with what I did.”

  “What you did?”

  Jess nodded. And then she knew that of all people, Susan was the one who would understand the grief... the guilt. “You see, I always took Amy to nursery on my way to work. Every morning without fail, except...”

  Susan looked at her.

  “Except that morning.” Jess felt the nausea rising in her stomach. “I was running late. The house was a tip. I couldn’t find my computer memory stick for my presentation. I blew up at Jack for not keeping the house tidy, for not helping me more.” She looked at Susan with stricken eyes.

  “What happened, Jess? Tell me.”

  “I upset Jack; made him angry. He grabbed Amy. He said he’d take her to nursery to give me time to get ready.” Her voice had lowered to a whisper now. “He stormed out and slammed the front door.” Jess jolted as if she could still hear that door slamming. “I went over to the door, and poked my head out to say goodbye. And that’s all I ever see. My little Amy waving through the back window of his car, shouting G’bye mummy! as Jack drives off. Then I hear the sickening screech of tyres; the explosion; the fire. Oh God!” Jess leant forward and put her head on the dashboard.

  They sat together in silence, each with their own pain. Then Jess took a deep breath of air that burnt her lungs. “I’m sorry, Susan. I shouldn’t have burdened you with all that.”

  “If... if I’d given the police Ellen’s diary yesterday,” Susan stuttered, “none of this would have happened.” She turned to Jess, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” Jess reached over and took her hand. “Now let’s get that diary and take it to the police before anyone else gets hurt.”

  29

  The moon shone bright in the sky, making the billowing smoke appear translucent as it drifted high into the air. Sangster got out of the car and looked up. It gave Brisbane a weird, other worldly feel that he’d never experienced before. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. A lunatic was wreaking havoc across the city, and no one knew what he was
going to do next. It’s like being in a thriller movie, without any script. Jess’s words hit home. He coughed as the acrid smell permeated his eyes and nose, competing with the lingering stench of death. For the first time since becoming a detective, he felt powerless and apprehensive. A feeling that scared him.

  “Evenin’, Sir.” The young porter’s eyes shone with excitement. “That’s the Brisbane Echo building goin’ up in smoke!”

  “Keep an eye on my car,” Sangster said, tersely. “I’ll be five minutes.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Sangster walked up the steps, through the revolving door and into the Riverbank Hotel. He’d been both relieved and annoyed to get Jess’s voicemail. Relieved that Susan Chambers had turned up and they were going to the hotel for the night; and annoyed that his police officer hadn’t shown up. Where the hell was he? Belinda Harris’s corpse sprang horribly to mind. He couldn’t take any more chances; he’d personally take the Consul and Susan Chambers back to HQ.

  He went up to the reception desk. “Detective Inspector Sangster,” he said. “I believe the British Consul, Miss Turner, and Miss Chambers have checked in?”

  The receptionist nodded. “I’ll have a look, Sir.”

  Everyone seemed to be in a state of high excitement. Staff kept rushing out of the front entrance to have a look at the fire in the sky and chat to porters. Then they’d come back in to relay the latest to anyone who would listen. He tapped his foot on the floor and stared at the receptionist who was studying the computer.

  Feeling his impatient gaze on her, she looked up. “I’m sorry, Sir, Miss Turner hasn’t checked in yet.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He felt his stomach turn. He pressed a speed dial number on his mobile quickly as he marched out of the front entrance.

  Dalton answered immediately. “Boss?”

  “They’re not at the Riverbank.” Sangster could hear the tension in his own voice.

  “Where are they, then?”