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

by Jean Harrod

  She felt an icy chill in her heart.

  “The first time I saw you at The Palms, Jessica, I thought Ellen had come back to me. You’re so like her, you can replace her.”

  Jess stared in disbelief. Was he completely mad?

  “I know all about your husband and child,” he said. “You’ve come through it all, Jessica. You’re strong and focused. And working for me, you’ll have everything money and power can give you. Look, let’s go and get that diary,” he said, reasonably. “We’ll destroy it. Then everything will be down to Roberts.” He searched her face. “Now he’s dead, there is no other evidence to connect me to any of this.”

  Except for me, she thought; he’ll kill me, and Susan, if I don’t go along with him. She didn’t think twice. “All right,” she said, calmly. “We’ll go and get the diary together. And, well, I’m sure I would find working for you interesting.”

  He smiled, broadly. “And lucrative.”

  “And lucrative.” She did her best to smile back. “But we must help Susan. Quick,” she said, moving towards the door, “she’s been shot, but I think she’s still alive.”

  “No.” He stood in front of her. “Susan has to be collateral damage, my dear. She’ll tell the police I killed her sister.”

  Jess could scarcely breathe. “How can she?” she asked, quickly. “Only you and I know that.”

  “As soon as she sees me, she’ll know. I’m supposed to be in Canberra, don’t forget.”

  “Please, John. She’s just a young girl.”

  He picked up the oil lamp and took off the glass cover. “Here!” he said, pushing it towards her. “Set fire to the yacht. Destroy all the evidence.”

  Jess recoiled. “But Susan,” she whispered.

  “Do it, Jessica,” he said, angrily. “Destroy all the evidence and Susan. Prove you’re with me now.”

  “I am with you, John,” she said, desperately. “But we don’t have to kill Susan. I’ll talk to her; I’ll get her onside.”

  “Do it!” he barked.

  Frantic, she looked from him to the safety rail. Could she push him over? It was so close.

  “Don’t even think it,” he shouted as he held the naked flame of the oil lamp up high. A whoosh of flames ran up the petrol-soaked sail cloth.

  Jess jumped back in shock.

  “It’s your own fault.” Langhurst’s voice was hard now. “When you told me how Ellen recorded everything so neatly in her schedule, I knew you had the diary. I tried to get it back without hurting you. I made sure you were at breakfast before Roberts searched your room. Remember? I rang you?”

  Her heart quickened as his hand tightened around the gun. She looked up at the flames spreading across the sails, lighting up the sky. “Why, John? Why take bribes from the Chinese? You don’t need their money. surely?”

  “Oh, but I do, Jessica. For my election campaign. You see, once I’m elected to the seat of Flinders, I’ll soon become party leader. Then, in time, Prime Minister.”

  “You? Prime Minister?”

  A loud crack sounded. The rigging and a flaming sail came crashing to the ground, igniting the deck.

  Jess jumped away from the scorching flames, and rushed to the door to get Susan.

  But Langhurst blocked her way.

  “Susan!” she screamed.

  Suddenly, in the smoke and confusion, a figure jumped onto the deck. “Drop the gun, Langhurst!”

  Tom! Jess stumbled as the yacht rocked about. An arm grabbed her round the throat from behind; the barrel of a gun dug into her temple.

  “Don’t move,” Langhurst shouted at Sangster, “or I’ll kill her.”

  Sangster stood still. “Let her go, John. There’s been enough killing. You can’t get away.”

  “Throw the gun on the floor, Inspector, and kick it away.”

  “No, Tom!” Jess choked as smoke enveloped them. “He’ll kill you.”

  “I’ll kill her if you don’t.” Langhurst gripped her throat tighter to shut her up, and dragged her back from the flames creeping along the burning deck.

  Still Sangster didn’t move. “We have the diary, Langhurst. We know you framed Ellen.”

  Langhurst’s whole body tensed. “You know nothing.”

  “You’re wrong.” Sangster shook his head. “We have your bank account, with 20 million dollars the Chinese paid you to get them the deal they wanted. And we have a photo of you and Chen at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing. You told me you had no personal contact with the Chinese? Everything is done at official level, you said. But Ellen caught you both red-handed on camera meeting secretly amongst the crowds.”

  Sangster’s words hung in the flaming heat and smoke.

  Jess heard a desperate gasp in her ear. Langhurst moved the gun from her temple and pointed it at Sangster. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  She pushed his arm upwards.

  Unbalanced, Langhurst released his grip on her throat.

  She spun round and shoved him hard.

  Sangster fired.

  The bullet slammed into Langhurst’s forehead. As he fell backwards, his own gun fired.

  Excruciating pain seared through Jess. Stumbling sideways, she grabbed the safety rail before toppling over the side. Hanging on grimly, her head spun as she felt her legs sinking into the cold water.

  Hands grabbed her. “Hold on, Jess,” Sangster shouted.

  “Susan?” she whispered, as she started shivering violently. “Amy.” She couldn’t breathe.

  “Hold on, Jess. I’ve got you.”

  Uncontrollable shuddering racked her body. She heard more voices; saw more faces. What was going on? Something pressed against her face.

  Exhausted, she sank back, succumbing to the darkness.

  36

  Jess struggled to move. Her limbs felt heavy. When she opened her eyes, everything looked a blur through the mist. She could see pale winter light, casting the room in dark shadows. She could make out metal equipment, and the dull gleam of wooden floors.

  She could hear women’s voices around her. She blinked and tried to focus. She couldn’t think. Her throat hurt and her mouth felt dry. Then she started to see the room more clearly. She looked down at the starched white sheets. She was lying propped up in a bed, a hospital bed.

  Hearing rhythmic breathing, she looked across and smiled. His pale face looked peaceful in the glowing light of the bed lamp as he dozed in the chair next to her. He was so close, she took his hand. “I knew you’d come,” she whispered.

  Simon jumped and gave her a huge smile. “Thank God you’re all right.” He leant towards her and pushed a stray tendril of hair back from her face with tenderness. “You’ve been shot in the chest. I thought...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Then it all came flooding back to her and she struggled to sit up. “Susan?”

  “Don’t move,” Simon said, trying gently to keep her still. “Susan was shot in the stomach by Roberts. She’s recovering in intensive care, but she’ll be all right.”

  “And Tom? Is he all right? He saved us, didn’t he? On the yacht.”

  Simon nodded. “He’s fine. He’s down the corridor, with the High Commissioner. We’ve all been waiting for you to come round.”

  “The High Commissioner’s here?”

  “Yes. He’s on the phone to London, trying to get clearance to waive Nigel’s diplomatic immunity.”

  Jess frowned. “Waive his immunity?”

  “The Federal Police want Nigel to help them with their investigation.”

  “Why?” She tried to sit up again. “What’s he done?”

  “Apart from almost getting you killed, you mean?” Simon unclenched his fist, then shook his head. “We’ll talk later; you’re still too weak.”

  “No,” she urged. “Please Simon. I have to know.”

  “All right.” He sighed. “Well, it seems Nigel and Anthony Harris go back a long way. They’ve been friends since their student days at Oxford.”

  “Really?”


  “Yes. Nigel tipped Harris off about that intelligence report. He knew the British and Australian authorities were onto the gas deal corruption. And he knew the police had found out about Ellen Chambers’ affair with Harris. But the Australian authorities didn’t tell Harris they knew about the affair, because they wanted to find out if he was involved in corruption too.”

  “I see,” Jess said, wearily.

  Simon nodded. “The Head of Australian SIS personally briefed Nigel about it, and specifically asked him not to divulge the information to anyone except the High Commissioner.”

  “Are you saying Anthony Harris knew nothing until Nigel told him?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And Nigel actually gave Harris a copy of that intelligence report?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God!” Jess started coughing.

  Simon jumped up and held a glass of water to her lips.

  She took a sip and swallowed.

  “You need to rest now,” he said.

  “No! Please keep going, Simon. I am okay.”

  He sighed again. “Remember that phone call Nigel took when we were in his office on Monday morning?”

  “That was Harris, wasn’t it?”

  Simon nodded. “He’d just heard about Ellen’s murder. He was devastated of course. He told Nigel he’d been with Ellen on the jetty at The Palms before she was murdered. He’d gone to confront her about the corruption allegations; and that’s when she told him the whole sorry story. Harris believed Ellen when she said she wasn’t taking bribes, and that she’d been set up. And he swore she’d been alive when he left her, and that he’d had nothing to do with her murder.”

  Jess felt shocked to the core. “Nigel knew all that, and said nothing. Not even to the High Commissioner?”

  Simon nodded. “And he let you go off on what we thought was a routine consular case without any kind of warning. So you see Nigel was the catalyst that started off this nightmare. If he hadn’t tipped off Harris and given him a copy of that intelligence report, none of the events of the last few days would have happened.”

  Jess flopped back onto the pillow. “Nigel must be devastated now he realises what he’s done.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Simon brightened. “Of course, he won’t be resuming his position as Deputy High Commissioner. He’ll be returning to London within the next 24 hours. He’ll face disciplinary action, if not criminal charges.”

  Jess closed her eyes, remembering that row with Nigel in the Consul-General’s Office; his clenched fists; that look of hatred. Of course by then, he understood the trail of death and destruction he’d started. And that he’d ruined his own career.

  “And John Langhurst?” she asked.

  “Dead.”

  “And that maniac Roberts?”

  Simon hesitated. “They’re still searching the river for his body.”

  She gasped. “You don’t think…”

  “No, the police are sure he’s dead. It was high tide last night. They think his body must have been swept down the river, and out into Moreton Bay.”

  She shivered, remembering those cold eyes that were beyond human reach. Would she ever forget them? Then something came back to her. “You know, Simon, when we were on the yacht, he said he wasn’t Roberts.”

  Simon raised an eyebrow. “Who was he, then?”

  “I’ve no idea. But he was so adamant he wasn’t Roberts, I somehow believed him. Can you mention it to Tom please? It’s worrying me.”

  Simon nodded.

  “And Chen?” she asked. “Where’s he?”

  “Skipped the country.”

  “Impossible!”

  “You’d think! Bloody convenient for everyone, if you ask me.”

  This will always remain a secret. She shivered, remembering Langhurst’s words on the yacht. Had the Australians deliberately let Chen go to protect the deal?

  “It was just as we thought,” Simon went on. “The Chinese were perfectly happy with 25 per cent of the joint venture until Langhurst told Chen he could get him a bigger share. Wouldn’t that have that gone down well in Beijing? A notch in Chen’s belt to get him the top political job he wanted.”

  “So John Langhurst put Chen up to pitching for a controlling stake of the joint venture?”

  Simon nodded. “Knowing it was an impossible ask for the Australian side.

  It was a bluff of course. Chen was always going to settle for 45 per cent.”

  “And Langhurst would get the credit from the Australian Government for breaking the deadlock and delivering the deal. Plus 20 million dollars for his own political campaign.” Jess could only believe it because it was true. She sank back into the pillows, finally able to relax. “Susan will be so happy her sister was innocent. She’s the only one who believed in Ellen.” She sighed. “If only Anthony Harris had told the police everything as soon as Ellen was murdered.”

  Simon’s mobile rang. “That’ll be Sharon again. She’s been phoning every ten minutes to find out if you’re awake. I’ve been trying to stop her jumping on the first plane north.”

  Jess smiled. “Give me the phone. I’ll talk to her.”

  “No you won’t,” he said, firmly. “You’ll rest now. And when you’re well enough, you’re coming home with me. I’ll take care of you.”

  “But...”

  “You’re coming home with me and that’s final!”

  She smiled at him. “I’m really happy you came, Simon.”

  “Me too.” He leant over and kissed her gently on the lips.

  37

  Brisbane, one month later.

  Jess felt a tingling in her spine. Pulling her black jacket tight around her, she slipped off her shoes and wriggled her cold toes to get the feeling back in them. She glanced at Susan, sitting pale and distraught next to her. Then she looked over her shoulder at Tom Sangster, who sat alone at the back of the church.

  His eyes lit up when he saw her.

  She smiled and turned back.

  The vicar’s sombre voice echoed around the cavernous nave. The heavy scent of lilies wafted in the air. Lovely, she thought, but too much associated with death for her liking.

  She could feel Susan shaking with sobs beside her. A tear slipped down her own cheek in sympathy. She had to focus on the shaft of sunlight beaming through a stained glass window for the rest of the service, to tune out the vicar and the heartache. A picture of Amy sprang into her mind. Her face. Her curly blonde hair. Amy, squealing with joy in the sunshine, as she finally rode her small tricycle alone.

  The service ended and everyone began filing out. The church fell silent and peaceful. Jess got up and went over to the candles. She lit three. One for Jack, one for Amy, and one for Ellen Chambers. Then she went back and sat down again next to Susan, who hadn’t moved.

  Susan slipped her arm in hers and laid her head on her shoulder. They sat in quiet companionship until a creaking noise made Jess look round.

  Tom Sangster got up and walked out of the door.

  Patting Susan’s hand, she stood up and followed Tom outside. She saw him break away from the crowd and walk further into the graveyard. She hurried after him, footsteps crunching on dead leaves as she walked along the path in the sunlight. The voices from the congregation were fading now.

  She saw him ahead, standing beside a grave. It seemed like an intrusion, but she walked over and stood next to him. “Who’s Lily?” she asked, looking down at the gravestone.

  “My first murder case,” he said. “She was just 15 when we found her down by the river. I’ll never get the sight of her out of my head.” He took a deep breath. “I come here from time to time to remind myself why I stay in the Police Service.” He glanced at Jess. “I guess our ghosts are always around us.”

  Jess bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry about your daughter and husband. The High Commissioner told me what happened to them.”

  She nodded. “I never got the chance to properly thank you, Tom. If you ha
dn’t arrived when you did, Susan and I would have died on that yacht.”

  He shuffled his feet.

  “I’m still not sure how you found us.”

  “A lucky break,” he said. “You see, by then, I was pretty sure John Langhurst was behind all this.”

  “How did you know?”

  “The lab sent me those blown up photos from Ellen’s camera card. There, bang in the middle of all the crowds in Beijing, were John Langhurst and Chen Xiamen shaking hands. Ellen had caught them red-handed.”

  “I see.”

  “By then, we had the diary too. I’d found it in the cupboard under the bathroom sink in Susan’s house, just like you said. But we had no idea where Roberts had taken you both.” He glanced at her. “Or if you were still alive.”

  Jess nodded.

  “We’d checked Roberts’ house of course. But when the neighbours said he was hardly ever there, we started thinking he had another place. Then came the breakthrough. Roberts was known by the working girls in the area. One in particular had a narrow escape. She told us Roberts had taken her to a motel in the Valley a couple of times. While she was there, she saw clothes and other possessions that made her think he was staying there.”

  “Ah.”

  “I was in the vicinity when that information came through. So I went to the motel. I couldn’t believe my luck when John Langhurst drove up and knocked on a room door. And who should answer, but Roberts himself. I crept over and watched through the window. I heard them arguing. Langhurst was refusing to give Roberts the money he’d promised him until he had the diary.”

  “I see.”

  “So I waited for one of them to leave, in the hope they would lead me to you. Roberts set off alone first. I went to follow him, as I was certain he’d be the one holding you, if you were still alive.” He glanced at her apologetically again. “But then Langhurst got into his car and followed Roberts down the street. I noticed him hanging back a little, as if he didn’t want Roberts to see him. I wondered what the hell was going on. So, I followed some way behind them both. And that’s how I found you.”