by Drew Lindsay
Ben, on the other hand, was glued to the evening TV news. There she was in living colour on his HD flat screen, sweeping into Sydney airport on those amazingly long slender legs. He could not believe that Brenda Grant was in his own city, less than a 20 minute drive from his home.
A familiar tightness clutched at his chest as he watched her and the entourage move to the fleet of hire cars.
His attention was drawn to an older woman with long black hair, pulled back in a pony tail, walking closely behind Brenda. This woman missed nothing with her deep blue eyes, scanning the crowd constantly. Ben noted long black eye lashes, unblemished skin and strikingly large breasts, complimented by a narrow waist. She was fit….very fit. Obviously a personal bodyguard. She moved like a big cat, ready to strike should the occasion arise.
Ben turned off the TV. This was getting too much. He could only hope that Susan Beck was right. Brenda Grant would never have seen that ridiculous email and would never find out that he had kept a photo of her in a frame on his desk at the CIB, and another in his wallet, and suffered a fair degree of humiliation at the hands of his colleagues as a result.
He knew he would be extremely nervous at meeting her in the morning at Sydney airport, but logic, and taunting by Sue Beck gave him some comfort that she would glance at him, but never really see him because to her, he was a bodyguard. A nobody.
‘It’s got to be change of life,’ said Ben to himself. ‘Male menopause. We get it more than the damn women.’
Detective Lisbet Fenton did not turn off the evening news so quickly. She watched it very attentively. She watched Brenda Grant and the movie entourage sweep through Sydney airport and absorbed details of their block buster film on the Great Barrier Reef. Then she hit a speed dial number on her mobile phone.
Rodney Reid answered. ‘My sweet darling. Haven’t heard from you for ages.’
‘How are you doing Rod?’
‘All guns blazing girl. Want to meet up?’
‘Thanks Rod but I’m sort of committed at the moment.’
‘Good for you. Good for you.’
Silence.
‘Obviously you called me for a reason Lisbet?’
‘Yes I did. I just watched Brenda Grant landing in Sydney.’
Silence again.
‘You there Rod?’
‘Yes. So you watched a movie star land in Sydney this morning. So?’
‘You involved?’
‘Not telling.’
‘You have to be involved. You’re the best here.’
‘Not telling.’
‘You met Ben yet?’
‘Ben who?’
‘Ben Hood. I recommended him to you.’
‘Might have.’
‘Might have not, maybe or have?’
‘Where is this going Lisbet?’
‘I need to know if Ben is going to have even the remotest possibility of contact with Brenda Grant?’
‘Good Lord! Are you drinking again?’
‘I never stopped.’
‘OK, there is a possibility that Ben and Brenda might have some contact with each other.’
The screech of delight almost deafened Rodney.
‘What the hell are you on about Lis?’
‘I think Ben just became $1,000 richer!’ She hung up.
Lisbet punched another number into her mobile phone. She was on her feet now, almost jumping up and down.
‘Simon here.’
‘Detective Simon Bastock?’
‘I know it’s you Lisbet. I know your voice.’
‘You better start saving up.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You got a thousand bucks?’
‘What!’
‘You’re going to have to honour a bet fairly soon I expect.’ Lisbet terminated the call. She turned off her mobile phone, jumped backwards onto her bed and looked up at the plastic, luminous stars on the ceiling. ‘I’m starting to believe there is a God in heaven,’ she said quietly.
“****”
Chapter Twenty