20
‘Breeze is off the critical list,’ said Riley in a low-key voice. ‘Dr Dae Chul is already preparing a journal article about how he saved his life.’
Furn was shaking off the Friday evening rain from his jacket, being careful to avoid short circuits in an office suite packed with surveillance equipment. He studied the scenes on the wall-mounted monitors and, despite the darkness, recognised Darling Harbor, Circular Quay and the Manly foreshore. Only the occasional lonely umbrella was bobbing into view but with a new day and a bout of sunshine on the way, the crowds would come and possibly with them McNaught, bringing his peculiar brand of stillness art. All the electronics eyes this cluttered room had on the streets did not dispel Furn’s feeling he would be very much on his own upon them.
‘Azu has gone off to secure one of the two fast response vehicles in Sydney modified to hold extra fuel tanks,’ he said, smoothing back his damp hair.
‘There’s more than one military base on an eight hundred kilometre stretch of road. None of them will take Dokomad?’
‘The instructions are specific,’ said Riley. ‘The East Gate of Fairfield Military Hospital, Melbourne.’
‘I don’t like being disowned before an operation has even begun. It’s like being asked to bite into a dish while the chef is out the back door sprinting into a taxi.’
Riley was sitting lightly on the arm of a red leather reclining sofa chair in the centre of the room; a good vantage point from which to wait out someone as unhurried as the silver statue.
‘Before you start worrying about an extended drive in the country you’re going to have to get passed Tony McNaught, the guy that made mincemeat out of a two and a half metre professional basketball player. He’s known as one hell of a street fighter. And the only back up we’re getting is with computer software.’
Furn went over to the coffee percolator. He wasn’t expecting much but his flight from Melbourne hadn’t come with cabin service. If he wanted corporate jet refrigerators stocked with beverages, he was in entirely the wrong line of business.
‘So, this McNaught is a real bad ass. Living statues though strike me as being particularly small time.’
The coffee was luke warm and had the consistency of old engine oil.
‘Maybe he doesn’t need the money,’ said Riley. ‘He’s linked to some high yielding armed robberies that have remained unsolved. It seems McNaught isn’t much of a people lover. When he’s frozen up doing that statue thing his eyes are actively seeking out anyone he has a particular dislike for. Unprovoked assaults in his vicinity have included lawyers, politicians, cops, corporate executives.’
‘And basketball players.’ Furn twisted up his face as he put down the coffee cup. ‘Did I just drink printer ink by mistake?’
Riley’s frown suggested the coffee percolator was the only piece of equipment he had installed himself. ‘The weather forecast has the sky clearing up by tomorrow afternoon. Sunny on Sunday. If the silver man is going to show, it’ll be a weekend matinee. I’ve enlisted Ricky Purvis out of Traffic to do his best to provoke him. The guys pretty annoying so will have a good shot at it. You know him?’
Furn shook his head.
‘He’s eyeing the potential vacancy should Breeze not come back. He’s a karate black belt and has the driving acumen to hold his own on the highway.’
‘You’re pitting a traffic cop against the Sapiens. Are you counting on some beginner’s luck?’
‘Luck, yes. Zulma Pei’s patient list doesn’t show any indications of the Sapiens as far as we can tell. She might have been wise enough to poach her fruit from elsewhere. What it means is we’ve got one crack at this. If we don’t cut off the head we’ll never catch up to the body.’
Furn idly took another look at the umbrellas on the monitors. He could have done with one of his own; especially in a city where cars were as much a hindrance as a help.
‘I’m taking Nashy out to a noodle joint. Why don’t you come along? Bring Purvis too. It’ll be a fitting location to finally divulge how you came to be known as Riley.’
‘The one man who knows seems to appreciate the idea that he’s at least taking something to his grave. I wouldn’t want to spoil that for him. Anyway, I’ve got some preparations still to do here. You go off and enjoy yourselves.’
‘What about Purvis?’
‘He’s walking laps of the Opera House, getting his thoughts together, getting himself into character. He’s going to be playing an alcoholic drunk. Maybe you could give him some pointers.’
‘He’s a traffic cop, right? He’ll know what he’s doing.’
The two men smiled, tense and excited. The surveillance camera that had picked up McNaught was only a block away and both men could sense his presence in the city. They were like naturalists following up the sighting of a rare and dangerous animal in a jungle teeming with predators. Certainly a quarry that belonged in a zoo.
‘See you at breakfast,’ said Furn, heading for the door. ‘Don’t bring your coffee with you.’
‘I don’t like to bring this up,’ said Riley after him, ‘but there’s been a directive straight from the Commissioner that’s come about in light of what happened to Breeze and the job we’ve been doing.’
Furn stopped, intrigued by the reticence in Riley’s usually assured voice. ‘What directive?’
‘The RIP will no longer be eligible for any official citations or medals.’
Furn yanked down on the door handle and laughed. ‘Don’t worry about that. When I joined the RIP, it was with the realisation I wouldn’t be mounting plaques on my walls; heads maybe, but not plaques.’
Riley nodded. ‘We’ll see what we can do about that.’
Furn walked out into the empty corridor of light green walls and grey carpet; he let his sweaty armpit feel the handle of the cleaned up pistol holstered in its warmth.
Directive RIP Page 28
