The Tattooed Man

by Alex Palmer

‘Jesus!’ the attendant said, and tapped into a computer. ‘You shouldn’t be standing there, it’s dangerous. No. There are eleven spaces left. If you want to leave your car in long stay, you’ve got pay cash upfront.’

  ‘I need to find a white Toyota HiAce with this registration number,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’

  He was a young man, no more than eighteen, nervous and overweight with a pencil-thin beard. Quickly, she flashed her warrant card.

  ‘Police,’ she said. ‘This may be a lead in a kidnapping. We’re looking for a white van and we have a tipoff that it may be here on a long-stay rental.’

  Another vehicle pulled up. The driver handed in his ticket. Confused, the attendant fluffed the change, then after a sharp reprimand from the driver gave the correct money.

  ‘Yeah, I heard about that on TV. I don’t know if I should. I’ll get Ray. He’s the boss.’

  ‘Check my warrant card again and give me the information.’

  ‘It doesn’t say police.’

  ‘This card comes with powers of entry. If you don’t believe me, ring the number on it.’

  He grew more flustered. ‘Okay,’ he said and keyed the number into the computer. ‘Top floor. Bay 25. A white Toyota HiAce. Paid a month’s rental. Mr Robert Woods from Coolangatta. He’s a regular. He can’t be who you’re looking for.’

  ‘Do you have a key to that van? I need to open it.’

  ‘No, we don’t do that. You leave it at your own risk. I couldn’t give it to you anyway.’

  Grace thought of what she might have in her bag.

  ‘I’m going to check it out,’ she said. ‘In the meantime, call the police and tell them it’s an emergency.’

  ‘I thought you said you were the police.’

  ‘Just do what I say. Call the police now!’

  She took the lift to the top floor. Bay 25 was at the back in the corner. The van had been parked with its back doors against the wall, making it impossible to open them without moving the vehicle. There were cars either side of it, hemming it in. There were no side windows on the body of the van and both the windscreen and the windows in the doors were covered with blinds. Grace looked at her watch. It was well after six. If Toby was inside, he would have been there for over twenty-four hours. There was no one around. She took out her illegal gun and used it to smash the windscreen, put it away quickly, and then tore out the blinds, using them to clear away the remains of the smashed safety glass. The smell of human waste hit her powerfully.

  ‘What the fuck have you done? Shit!’

  It wasn’t the attendant but whoever was in charge, a tall, thin and bearded man in his mid-thirties; Ray, she supposed. He had been running towards her but the smell brought him to a stop.

  ‘There’s someone in there,’ she said. ‘It’s a kidnap victim and he’s been left here to die. I’m going to ring for an ambulance. Can you get this van out of there and get the back doors open? And is there anywhere I can get some water around here?’

  ‘Hang on. I’ve got to check this out,’ he replied and levered himself into the van through the gap where the windscreen had been. He called out, ‘There is someone here. Yeah, it’s that crippled kid. But I don’t know if he’s alive.’

  Grace was ringing for an ambulance. ‘Can you just get that van out of there so we can open the doors?’ she repeated.

  She had barely hung up when the van came to life and moved forward, swinging around into the lane. Then shortly afterwards, the side door was opened and Ray got out.

  ‘You know how to do that,’ Grace said, with a relieved grin.

  ‘Years of practice,’ he replied, grinning back. ‘You wanted water, you said.’

  ‘And a clean cloth if you’ve got one.’

  He was gone; she scrambled inside. Toby was dressed and on his side on a blanket. He had been tied with rough ropes and couldn’t move from the centre of the van. It looked as if a rag had been pushed into his mouth but somehow he’d spat it out. His mouth was open, as if he’d tried to speak or even shout before he’d passed out. His body was rigid. The blanket was wet with urine and Toby was dirtied but he was breathing. Grace checked his pulse. It was regular if weak.

  Ray had come back. He handed her a bottle of water and a clean handkerchief. She soaked the handkerchief in water and put it into Toby’s mouth. Instinctively, he began to suck it.

  ‘You need to call the police,’ Grace said to Ray.

  ‘I already did that.’ He laughed. ‘I was asking them to come and get you. But there’s been some kind of explosion at the police building. There’s three people dead, one of them’s a government minister. Lucky I’ve got a mate over here at Redfern. They’re on their way.’

  Was Harrigan one of the dead? She stopped and stared at Ray then shook off the question as quickly as she could. Everything in her rejected the possibility. And there was no point in trying to call him to find out what had happened. All she could usefully do now was focus on Toby and see him to hospital alive.

  ‘Do you have CCTV?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, we do.’

  ‘You need to give the police footage of the man who left this van here and anything else you have about him.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  The ambulance arrived before the police. The paramedics cut the ropes with a fine disregard for forensic niceties. Grace went with Toby to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, where he was washed and cleaned, then put on a drip and connected to the various monitors that read his body. The doctor told her he was badly dehydrated and in pain but it was most likely no lasting damage had been done.

  By now it was growing dark. She tried to ring Harrigan again and again got his voicemail. It was too late to be messing around. She rang the commissioner’s assistant, a number she had been given in case of dire emergency.

  ‘I’m trying to get hold of Commander Harrigan,’ she said. ‘It’s very, very urgent and he’s not answering his phone.’

  ‘The commander can’t be disturbed. There’s been a significant incident here, as you may have heard, and he’s in a meeting with representatives from ASIO and the Australian Federal Police at this moment. I can take a message.’

  As usual, Chloe’s voice dripped with frost. Grace took a few moments to draw breath over the fact that at least Harrigan was alive.

  ‘It’s to do with his son. He’s been found and he’s in Royal Prince Alfred Hospital right now. The commander may want to see him. You can tell him Toby’s going to survive but he’s badly dehydrated.’

  She hung up. Harrigan could call her back if he wanted to. Instead, he arrived in person not long afterwards, hurrying down the corridor. She felt that odd, sharp shock of seeing someone you care about too much after they’ve been absent from your life for a while. The sight of the marks on his face made her heart tighten even though Trevor had already told her he’d been in a fight. He walked up to her and touched her face but didn’t speak, just looked at her. Then he went into the glassed-in room where Toby was asleep and touched his son’s hand. After some moments, he walked outside.

  ‘I didn’t believe it at first,’ he said. ‘I thought it must be a joke.’

  ‘I’d never joke about something like this.’

  ‘I didn’t mean you. I meant fate.’

  ‘He’s your other half,’ she said. ‘His mind reflects yours.’

  ‘His mind is clear. Mine’s clouded with too much past.’

  He hugged her then, unexpectedly and tightly, almost too tightly, and they kissed. They held on to each other in stillness in the centre of the busy corridor. Time stopped and acquired depth in place of movement. Whether people were watching neither of them thought. For that short space of time, everything between them was in balance, all questions were resolved.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ll say it again. Thanks. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Is he unconscious or asleep?’

  ‘He’s sedated,’ she said. ‘They’re trying to relax him and stabilise his body temperature
. He’s very weak at the moment.’

  Harrigan glanced around to see who was within hearing distance.

  ‘I’ve stabbed all my people in the back, Grace, and flushed everything I believe in down the toilet on a false promise. He left him there to die, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Bastard,’ Harrigan said softly, shaking his head.

  ‘Don’t talk about it here. Let’s go into Toby’s room.’

  Harrigan sat beside the bed. Toby’s skin was pale against the crisp white sheets, his eyelids dark. It was the same steel cot that had cosseted him all his life.

  ‘Is it true Edwards is dead?’ she asked.

  ‘He was blown sky high, him and his adviser. The blast killed one of the officers on duty at the front desk as well. There’s something else. Marvin’s dead. He was shot by a sniper. Assassinated. I’m asking myself when this is going to stop.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who?’

  ‘Possibly.’ He looked at Toby again. ‘How did you find out where he was? Someone must have told you.’

  ‘I gave my word that I wouldn’t say who it was.’

  ‘You have to tell me more than that,’ Harrigan said. ‘There’s a lot of dead people out there. We’ve got to bring this to an end.’

  ‘I can tell you how I got this information, but there’s also a question of secrecy and I think that secrecy is important.’

  ‘Before we go any further, let me ask you this. Did your information come via Sam Jonas in any way?’

  ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘Because in my judgement, there’s no else in this who’s enough of a wild card and who knows more about what’s going on than she does. I know the name of our gunman now. Du Plessis. My guess is Sam knows him. Maybe she’s been on his tail or they’re mates.’

  ‘I don’t think they’re mates,’ Grace said.

  ‘It was her. What do you know?’

  ‘It’s complicated. There’s a connection between Sam Jonas and Brinsmead.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Just take it from me: they’re a team and they’re targeting Elena Calvo and LPS in some way. They may be operatives from a secret service agency, possibly a British one. She’s the professional, he’s the civilian cover, probably chosen because he has a personal connection to Calvo and he’s in the right profession. He’s also ex-army. That counts.’

  ‘What are these people doing here in Sydney if that is who they are?’

  ‘Finding out what LPS is really up to. But if they are operatives, I would have expected someone at senior federal government level to know they’re here and to have given them the go ahead. The problem is whether they really are legitimate. If they are, and this information becomes known, we could jeopardise their operation. If we do that, more people could end up dead. At best, we could abort what they’re doing.’

  ‘Wouldn’t Edwards have known about them?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ she said. ‘Their minders might have thought his connection to Elena Calvo made it too dangerous to tell him.’

  ‘Grace, at the moment we have representatives from every federal agency connected to intelligence in the police building. ASIO, the AFP, your people as well,’ he said, referring to the Orion task force she worked for. ‘I was in a meeting with them all when I got your message. Wouldn’t Orion know if people like this were here?’

  ‘I would have expected Orion to know, but there’s no reason why I would have been told. ASIO should have been.’

  ‘If ASIO or Orion do know about these people,’ Harrigan said, ‘and if what they’re doing is legitimate, then I’d expect to have been told by now given what’s happened.’

  ‘Sam talked like she was the controlling operative,’ Grace said. ‘If she is, she wouldn’t be briefing anyone in those agencies on what they’re doing day to day. Her minders wouldn’t necessarily give any details on the nature of the operation to other than a very few people. You’ve identified a connection between your murder investigation and LPS but that connection isn’t known outside of your squad. And for all we know, their presence here is clandestine and the government hasn’t been told. If Sam and Brinsmead are working for an anti-terrorist cell that has unorthodox methods, then the rules for those cells have changed in the last few years.’

  ‘I can’t prove the connections,’ Harrigan said. ‘I gave the evidence away.’

  ‘You didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘You found him anyway, Grace.’

  ‘That was pure luck. There’s something else that’s important. Brinsmead has a connection with Beck and this du Plessis. He was in the Congo with them—that’s where he got his burns. They were involved

  in diamond smuggling. Also, Sam Jonas isn’t her real name. It’s Sophia something. Whatever they’re doing, it’s serious.’

  ‘Do you think they’re legitimate?’

  ‘From the sounds of it, yes. Legitimate and ruthless.’

  ‘Ruthless enough to shoot dead a senior policeman?’ Harrigan asked.

  ‘Marvin? Why?’

  ‘If their target is Elena Calvo, then he was her ears and eyes in the police. It makes operational sense.’

  ‘They couldn’t do that. If he was an obstacle, they’d organise for someone to tap him discreetly on the shoulder. But that does mean somebody in authority would have to know they were here.’

  ‘We do have some intelligence that an agency like the one you describe has been on Beck’s tail in the past. Who knows about this?’

  ‘You and me.’

  ‘Grace, how did you get this kind of information?’ he asked. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but how do I know it’s reliable?’

  Toby stirred. A nurse arrived.

  ‘I have to check on him,’ she said.

  They stepped outside into the corridor.

  ‘What did you do?’ Harrigan asked.

  ‘You’d call it illegal entry. Brinsmead wanted to see me at his flat. He wanted to talk about his burns, how he got them. He said he wanted me to understand him.’

  ‘He took a shine to you.’

  Grace shrugged. ‘It was all harmless enough. While I was there, I got hold of a key. After he left to go to LPS, I went back in. I was snooping when Sam Jonas turned up and he came back. Brinsmead was conducting some kind of experiment in his flat and she’d come to clean it up. I think that experiment was to find out what Beck was really doing. I hid in a wardrobe and heard everything they said to each other. They talked about their operation, the instructions they had, how they had to report back. Sam came over as a professional, focused agent. She’s the type; I’ve met people like her before. It’s why she’s so in your face when she talks to you. Everything she does is undercover. That world’s not normal. It’s got very strange reference points. There’s almost no law to control you and nothing’s what it seems. It’s very easy to lose perspective.’

  ‘Then what would she have done if she’d found you? Grace, you were putting yourself in danger again. When are you going to stop doing that? One day it’s going to backfire on you.’

  ‘If I hadn’t done it, Toby would still be in that parking station.’

  He was stopped. He looked from her to Toby and back to her. This was no place to argue.

  ‘You’re the fault lines in my life, the two of you,’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t know the things you put me through.’

  ‘What does that mean? You wish we weren’t? You wish I hadn’t done what I did?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t mean that. It means the opposite.’

  Before Harrigan could say anything more, his phone rang.

  ‘Yes, as soon as I can. You can tell the commissioner that Toby’s going to be okay. Thanks.’ He put the phone away. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘You always do,’ she said.

  He looked in at Toby through the glass before he answered her. The nurse came out.

  ‘He’s comfortable,’ she said.

  Harrigan nodded to
her and went back inside to look at Toby one last time. Gently, he moved some of his son’s hair that had fallen across his forehead. Then he walked back to Grace.

  ‘He’s very attached to you,’ he said.

  ‘I like him. He knows what it means to be attached to you.’

  ‘Is it really that bad?’

  ‘Sometimes. When do we see each other again?’

  ‘I’ve got a briefing with the AFP first thing tomorrow morning on where the case is. The assassination of federal government ministers is their responsibility,’ he said dryly. ‘I’ve still managed to convince everyone the best way to solve this is by keeping the Pittwater investigation on track. After that, as soon as I can get some time I want to see you. I’ll call you.’

  ‘Why can’t we see each other tonight when you’re finished?’

  ‘Now that you’ve given me this information, I’ve got to think about how it fits in. I have to act on it. I need some head space to work that out. But I will call you.’

  They held on to each other again. He didn’t seem to want to let her go and then did. Then he was gone.

  ‘I guess you will,’ Grace said to herself, watching him disappear down the corridor.

  Very shortly afterwards, two uniformed police appeared, heading towards her. Time to be economical with the truth, she thought, preparing to meet them.

  25

  It was late by the time Harrigan got back to Birchgrove for the night, and later still when he went to bed having spent some time thinking the case through over a glass of whisky. When he woke in the morning, it was early. He felt unexpectedly refreshed from a short sleep. He took a little time to prepare for the day. There was a phone call he had to make; a course of action he had agreed on with Trevor the previous night. He dialled the number, certain there would be an answer even at this early hour.

  ‘Elena Calvo.’

  ‘Good morning, Dr Calvo. I didn’t think you’d mind me ringing you so early. You struck me as the type to be at your desk first thing. How are you today?’

  ‘Are you making this call in an official capacity?’

  ‘No, I’d see this as a personal call. A very personal and confidential call.’