Lethal Promise

by Paul Stretton-Stephens

  “No, no, I haven’t.”

  Mikey didn’t think he needed to reciprocate the question.

  “That’s good, Mikey,” said Jago. “Try to keep it that way if you can. Believe me, it’s best to avoid those kinds of situations. But the question is, if you had to, would you?”

  “What, kill? Pull the trigger?”

  “Or do it with your bare hands, or a knife? Would you, Mikey?”

  “I guess if it was them or me, then yeah, I would, no doubt.”

  “What if it was them or me, or Fi here? What would you do then?”

  Mikey stuttered, “I’d, I’d do the same.”

  “You don’t sound so sure now, Mikey,” said Jago. “What do you think, Fi? I mean, if we’re out there in the bush and get jumped and Mikey is the only one between us and death, do you think we can trust him?”

  “I’m not so sure, Boss. He did massively hesitate, and we all know there’s no room for hesitation in this game. Hesitate and you die, right?”

  Mikey was getting a little unnerved. His palms and forehead were sweating and his mouth was parched. He reached for a bottle of water in his rucksack and gulped down half of it.

  “Take it easy on the water, Mikey,” said Jago. “We don’t know when we’ll get replenished.”

  “Ah, okay. I see what you mean,” said Mikey, quickly screwing the top back on to the bottle.

  Chapter 12

  After a forty-five-minute flight, they arrived at Cervantes. Jago, Fi and Mikey alighted from the helicopter. Once they were clear of the rotors, a uniformed officer approached them.

  “How are you? I’m John Hinks and this is my patch. I received a message to meet you here and give you some local information.”

  Mikey said, “Hi, it’s good to meet you. What can you tell us? You don’t mind if we walk while we talk, do you?”

  They walked towards the petrol station.

  “You’re not even going to give me your names?” said Hinks. How do I know you’re the people I’m supposed to meet?”

  “Officer Hinks, you’re right,” said Mikey. “But how many people do you get flying in here after a massacre on a navy helicopter armed to the teeth? Now tell me that. If we’re not giving you our names, it’s because we don’t need to. We’ve work to do, and so do you. Now, that information, please?”

  Hinks was taken aback by Mikey’s directness. “Seeing as you put it like that … let’s go. The petrol station security cameras picked up a vehicle matching the description and we have grainy images of the driver.”

  “Was he alone? It was a man, I suppose?” asked Mikey.

  “Yes, he was alone. He arrived at the servo, fuelled up and even filled two jerrycans too. He’s maybe heading for the bush,” suggested Officer Hinks.

  “Or taking precautions,” interjected Jago.

  “Blimey, you’re a Pom. What’s all this got to do with you?”

  “More than you imagine, John, more than you can imagine.”

  Then Officer Hinks realised that the third person was Fi, tooled up and ready for action.

  “And a Sheila. What’s the world coming to? How you doing, love?” asked Officer Hinks.

  Fi threw him a look and said nothing.

  “I guess you’re doing all right then.”

  “Did he buy anything else?” asked Mikey.

  “I don’t know. We’ll ask the cashier.”

  They arrived at the petrol station to find the young cashier tidying a shelf and the manager in his cluttered office.

  “Fi, check the cameras and download the footage for Abi,” said Jago. He turned to the cashier. “Hello, can you tell me which pump the man used, please?”

  The young woman blushed as she answered, “Pump number three. Why?”

  “Did anyone else use that pump afterwards?”

  “Hang on, I’ll check on the cash register.”

  She punched buttons and reviewed the results on the screen. “Here we are. It was early – we open at five – and most people choose the pump closest to the door, so only four other people have used it after him.”

  “And do you wipe down the pumps at night before closing?” asked Jago.

  “Yes, every night. We do a deep clean once a month. That was last Tuesday, and they get washed down and wiped every day. If we didn’t, we’d get a build-up of fuel residue.”

  “That’s great. Thanks for your help. Oh, and one other thing: the four other people who used the pump, would they be local people?”

  “Err, yes, I think they were.” She looked at her screen again to check. “Yes, two were on a local business’s account, and one was Mrs Drew; she runs the bakery in town. I can’t remember who the other one was, but I can check on the camera, if you like?”

  “That would be great,” said Jago. “My colleague is in there with the manager. Would you let her know who it was?”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  The young cashier was eager to help and disappeared into the back office.

  Jago walked outside and assessed the scene. He re-entered the shop area and strode over to Mikey.

  “Mikey, can we get the officer to cordon off pumps three and four? And I want photos taken of all the tracks in that area and prints taken off pump three. Then forensics can eliminate the prints of the locals who used the pump this morning. And accept no excuses about how long it’ll take. I want the information as soon as possible. And can you check with your boss about our satellite access?”

  ***

  Inside the back office, Fi watched the camera footage with the station manager, Bob.

  “Can we rewind to the point where his vehicle pulls up at the pump?” asked Fi.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Bob found the spot and played it again.

  Fi watched intently. “Stop. Can you slow it down?”

  Bob rewound it again and played with the buttons. The footage came to life in slow motion. Fi watched as the man pulled up in the pickup, turned the engine off and, while remaining seated, looked around outside of the vehicle. He then bent down to his footwell, possibly placing something from his lap onto the floor, out of sight.

  “Okay, let’s move forward,” said Fi.

  They watched the man alight from the vehicle. He appeared nervous, constantly looking around him in the quiet of the early morning. He filled the tank and then took out two jerrycans from the rear of the pickup. He filled them and entered the shop area to pay. They watched as he opened the fridge and took out milk, then picked up three chocolate bars and arrived at the counter. He placed his items on the counter and leaned on the glass top, chatting to the cashier. Fi noted that he’d opened the right-side fridge door with his right hand and this supported his right-handed operation of the petrol pump. He’d also placed both of his hands flat on the counter.

  “What does that say on his back?” inquired Fi. “Is it some sort of design?”

  Bob stared at the screen intently.

  “He might be a bikie. We don’t get many around here, but the policeman would know better.”

  “A bikie? You mean like a biker – rides a motorcycle and is more than likely in a gang of some sort?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. You’ve got it,” said Bob. “There’re loads of different groups around. Mind you, the law’s cracked down on them. They can’t go around in more than twos, can’t meet in public places and other stuff.”

  “Are they just symbolic or are they into drugs, weapons and stuff?”

  “No, they’re not just out for a Sunday ride on the beach,” replied Bob. “They’re mixed up in all sorts of stuff, and there’s always gang-on-gang violence.”

  “Okay, thanks for that. So, he’s wearing what looks to be dirty brownish boots, well-worn blue jeans, a white-and-blue-checked shirt and a denim waistcoat with a design on the back. Can you print off the image of his back?” asked Fi.

  “Yeah, sure. Just a tick.”

  Bob printed off the image while Fi took out her portable drive. She immediately uplo
aded the images and sent them to Abi.

  The cashier appeared at the office door and stood there nervously.

  “The Englishman said to come in here and look at the cameras for one customer this morning on pump three.”

  Fi turned. “He did, did he? Then we’d better look. Bob, can you do the honours and take the controls?”

  The three watched as the footage rewound to the time after the suspect’s visit.

  “There he is,” said the excited cashier. “It’s Mr Burnett from over at the packaging plant. I thought it might be, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Well done, and thanks, both of you. You’ve been most helpful,” said Fi as she left her chair with the printout in hand and headed to leave the back office.

  She found Jago in the main shop. “Boss, we need to close the station, or at least the shop area. He’s possibly left prints on the fridge and on the counter. And he might be what we would call a biker, and he’s possibly wearing his gang’s colours.”

  “Okay, let’s talk with John and the manager – what’s his name, Bob?” asked Jago.

  “Yes, Bob. He’s been really helpful.”

  Jago gathered the policeman and Bob together.

  “Look, we need to cordon off pumps three and four and close the shop until we can get fingerprints lifted from certain areas and recorded. John, how long will it take to do that? Because we want to get Bob back up and running and not losing business.”

  “Let me make a couple of calls and I’ll see what I can do,” said John, under pressure.

  Jago turned to Bob. “Where would someone go for food at that time of the morning around here?”

  “There’s a cafe, The Blue Diamond, that opens at around six thirty most days. It’s on the corner of Biscay Street and Catalonia Street, just before you turn left towards the ocean.”

  “Thanks, Bob. I appreciate that.”

  Jago found Mikey outside with Fi. “Mikey, can we get John to take you and Fi over to a cafe called The Blue Diamond. It’s close to here. It would be the only place open at that time of the morning and our guy was heading in that direction.”

  “Sure, I’ll get him to take us over now.”

  ***

  Jago called Abi.

  “Abi, what have you got for me?”

  “Wow, that’s direct. No, ‘Hi, how are you?’ Are you all right, Boss?”

  “Yes. Sorry, Abi. I’m just busy, that’s all. You know how it is.”

  “Actually, I don’t know how it is at all. I’ve never been where you are now. Are you sleeping, eating?”

  “Yes to all the above, and no, I’ve not hit the bottle or anything like that. Now, thank you for your concern but can I please have some info?”

  “Okay, here goes. Our man at the remote gun control was Liam Harper, aged thirty-four, unemployed after being fired for misconduct from the largest mine in the area fourteen months ago. He’s recently separated and is pending divorce and has two children. He took the split really badly and started drinking heavily. Publicly, he blamed the mine management for his demise. He would have been a prime stooge to groom for the main players behind the attack.”

  “I want you to ask our Aussie friends if there was any link between Harper and a biker gang, or bikies as they call them here?” asked Jago.

  “But haven’t you got an intel guy with you to ask?”

  “Between you and me, Abi, he’s not proving to be the sharpest pencil in the box so far. You might get more joy from some of his desk-bound colleagues.”

  Abi offered more intel. “According to forensics, it seems that Harper had no contact with the van or the fixed-mounted machine gun. They’ve found no prints or gunshot residue to link him.”

  “What about the control console? Is that traceable?”

  “Bernie’s working on that, amongst other things.”

  “You mean he’s back at work? How come? It’s only two weeks since his wife was in the car crash.”

  “He says that she’s at home recuperating, Boss, and that her sister is staying with her. He says she’s mobile on crutches and he’ll take time off to take her to her appointments, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Of course it’s okay. But I didn’t expect him to be back for weeks. Is he okay? He seemed pretty shocked before I left.”

  “He’s fine. He’s probably better at work, keeping his mind occupied. You know how that is, don’t you, Boss?”

  “Yes, I know, Abi, only too well. I won’t speak to him at the moment, but please give him my best, for him and his wife.”

  “I will, Boss. By the way, the labels in Harper’s clothing were nothing out of the ordinary; they were all bought from the local Kmart store. As for the tan line on his wrist, it was definitely from a watch, which, it seems, was his pride and joy. He posted plenty of photos on social media with him wearing it. Apparently, his grandfather bequeathed him some money. He paid off the mortgage, put the kids in a private school and bought himself a posh watch.”

  “What make is the watch?” enquired Jago.

  “Let me see … ah, there it is. It’s a Patek Philippe Aquanaut dual-time men’s watch, all of which I’ve never heard of.”

  “Me neither. Tell me what it looks like, just in case we come across someone with it.”

  “I’ll send you a photo in a mo’, but as a description to be going on with, it’s got a black composite strap and a stainless-steel casing. The face is black with white hands and luminescent hour markers, and evidently you can tell home and local time, hence the dual time.”

  “Sounds impressive,” said Jago. “Where on earth did you get all that information, and how much would that have set him back?”

  “He’d posted it on Facebook and, stupidly, he’d posted the price too. Wait for it … It says here that he paid forty thousand dollars, so not too much. I’ve just checked online, and that’s a relatively inexpensive watch from this brand.”

  “Okay, do you know if the tech guys have retrieved anything from the computers, console and modem yet?”

  “No, Boss, we’ve heard no news to date. But we traced the order for the pizza. It was a cash payment made the night before the attack at the takeaway Pizza House in the town. Someone collected it. And before you ask, they have no CCTV, but a very nice policeman is going around to take statements.”

  “And the three mugs?”

  “Nothing has turned up on the mugs yet. Someone used them but left them unwashed, and we’re waiting to match any DNA with Harper’s and the guy who shot himself. And there’s no identity match for him yet either.”

  “Okay, Abi, keep me posted, and if I’m not available, let Fi know what’s going on, will you?”

  “Okay, Boss, will do. Take it easy and look after yourself.”

  “I will. Thanks, Abi.”

  Chapter 13

  Jago returned to the helicopter, where the pilots were sitting enjoying a cold drink.

  “Hi, Jago. Did we have any luck?” asked Captain Ian Brown.

  “He’s been here all right. Fi and Mikey have gone to one of the local cafes to see if he visited there. They should be back soon. I’m going to jump in the back and grab some shut-eye, if that’s okay with you guys?”

  “Yeah, no problem. You get your head down, albeit for a few minutes.”

  ***

  Jago stirred upon hearing the voices of Fi and Mikey approaching outside of the helicopter.

  He got to feet and alighted the craft. “Say nothing yet. I want the pilots to know what’s going on. Fi, can you call them over, please?”

  The pilots were walking around the helicopter, going through their check routine, and returned with Fi.

  “Right, Fi, what have we got so far?”

  “He was definitely there, Boss. He parked in their car park before they opened. He drank two black coffees, and ate a bacon sandwich and some pancakes. He only spoke to order his food and drink, and then left at around six forty-five a.m.”

  “Did you get any camera footage or a better de
scription?” asked Jago.

  “They had no cameras, but the girl could say he was about six foot one, unshaven and unkempt. He also had a tattoo of a woman on his lower left arm. She seemed to think the colours he was wearing belong to a bikie gang called the Deans from somewhere north of here.”

  Jago turned to Mikey. “Did you get any further information, from the officer or anyone else?”

  “The only thing of any consequence was that he left town in the same direction as he arrived. I think we can safely assume he was heading north.”

  “Mikey, have you heard from your boss yet about the satellite imaging?”

  “I spoke to him. He said he’ll get back to us within the hour.”

  “Well, that’s about now. Can you give him another call, please, before we take off? asked Jago. “It would be handy to have the satellite imagery at this stage.”

  “Yes, I’ll call him now.”

  As Mikey was making his call, the pilots carried on with their checks and Jago relayed his conversation with Abi to Fi.

  Mikey returned. “This is just amazing! We have the access to the satellite. Just tell them where you want it and they’ll relay the live pictures to us. Here’s the coding you need. We have it for just twenty-four hours.”

  Mikey handed Jago a set of handwritten codes and Jago punched them into his phone, which he then plugged into a laptop.

  Jago put on his headset. “How long would it take to get to Geraldton?” he asked Ian Brown, the pilot.

  “About an hour and a quarter.”

  “And from there to the next main town, which looks to be Carnarvon?”

  “I’ll just check to see if we can shave off any time.”

  The pilots conferred with one another for a couple of minutes.

  “It depends whether we’re following the freeway or not, but let’s say two and a half hours more.”

  “Okay, let’s head for Geraldton first. I’ll check the images we get and will let you know of any changes.”

  “Roger that, Jago. Taking off now.”

  Within a couple of minutes, the rotors were at full speed and the helicopter lifted. The pilots set a course northward, tilted the nose and soared towards the coastline running parallel to the freeway.