‘In what way?’
‘Destiny and fate.’ Jack looked at Cassandra, a puzzled look on his face. ‘And retribution,’ she added quietly. ‘Don’t worry. I haven’t lost it – yet. Please just listen ... it will all make sense.’
During the next few minutes Jack listened intently to what Cassandra had to say. At one point he pulled his notebook out of his hip pocket, and furiously started to scribble.
‘Will you do this for me, Jack?’ asked Cassandra, her voice fading. Jack nodded, choking with emotion. ‘I know it’s a big ask, but one day, Tristan will reward you. I saw it in the cards ...’ Cassandra turned her head and looked at Jack with cloudy eyes. ‘She loves you. Love is precious; don’t let it slip through your fingers. Remind Rebecca that the door is open wide ...’
Suddenly, Cassandra’s eyes rolled back and her whole body began to shake.
‘Fibonacci’s never wrong,’ she sighed. ‘Life’s but a game we play before we go ... Tristan ...’
Then the shaking stopped. For a few moments, Jack didn’t move. Struggling with what he’d just been told, he reached across to the sweat-soaked body and closed Cassandra’s eyes.
The countess went down on her knees and began to pray in Russian. It was a prayer for the dead her grandmother had taught her as a little girl. Sobbing uncontrollably, Rebecca covered her face with her hands. Andrew put his arm around her and bowed his head in silence.
68
Broome, 8 March
Nugget knew something had gone wrong the moment the police cars arrived at the hospital. Putting on his sunglasses, he started the engine and drove out of the carpark. It took Zac only a few minutes to find out what had happened. As the full scale of the disaster became apparent, he knew exactly what he had to do. First, he told Nugget to leave town at once and drive back to Fitzroy Crossing. Then he threw all the White Wolf’s belongings into the incinerator and lit the fire. Only after he had satisfied himself that he had erased all traces of the White Wolf’s presence at the pub did he call the Wizard.
The Wizard knew he was in serious trouble the moment he heard Zac’s report.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ he said, handing the mobile phone back to the Undertaker.
‘Oh?’
‘The White Wolf and Cassandra are both dead. Anna’s alive and under police guard.’
‘Shit! What now?’
The Wizard slammed his huge fist on the table. ‘We’ll keep a step ahead of the game!’
‘How?’
‘Get the others and I’ll tell you.’
The Wizard realised that sooner or later the police would identify the White Wolf and make the obvious connection. It was therefore only a matter of time before they came looking for him; not if, but when. The only thing unclear in all this was the state of Anna’s mind and her capacity to remember the past. Ultimately it would all come down to that.
The Wizard also knew from experience that suspicion and proof were two very different concepts. He had successfully walked that precarious tightrope many times before. By the time the police paid him a visit, he would be ready to do it again. Should the matter end up in court, he would rely on a tried and tested legal principle: reasonable doubt.
Looking up at the picture of The Chariot on the wall in front of him, the Wizard smiled. The Chariot was his favourite Tarot card. To him it had only one meaning: controlling the situation. And that was precisely what he was about to do.
It took the Undertaker only a few minutes to assemble the council in the crypt. For a while the Wizard sat in silence, his tattooed hands looking like huge hammers ready to crush anything foolish enough to get in his way.
‘We have an emergency,’ he began calmly. ‘A police raid is imminent. As you know, we are well prepared to deal with this ... OTAR starts now! You know what to do. Let’s roll!’
OTAR was the Wizards’ evacuation plan. Named after a potent Tarot invocation linked to The Chariot, the plan was simple: the Wizards would abandon the compound, split up, and go to their designated safe houses. By the time the police arrived with a search warrant, they would find an empty building. Anything remotely incriminating would have been removed or destroyed. The Wizard had insisted on regular drills to prepare for just such an eventuality.
‘You’re leaving as well?’ asked the Undertaker, surprised.
‘No. Jumping bail isn’t my style. We’ll play this by the book. You and I will stay right here to welcome our friends in blue and show them round.’
‘What about the boy?’
‘We’ll deal with him later,’ replied the Wizard, rubbing the scar on his chin.
Pigeon
Cassandra’s deathbed conversation with Jack surprised us both. She had come up with an extraordinary plan to save her son and destroy the Wizard. And with her last breath she had managed to extract a promise from Jack to carry it out. Jandamarra and I decided then and there to remain restless spirits for a little longer and help Jack keep his promise.
Feeling drained and dejected, Rebecca sat next to Jack in the hospital waiting room. The countess had returned to the ward to stay with Anna and the baby and Andrew had gone back to the station to arrange police protection.
Rebecca looked teary-eyed at Jack. ‘What’s happening to us?’ she asked. ‘This is spinning out of control.’
Jack looked at the little notebook in his hand. Two items he had jotted down were underlined and stood out: a phone number, and a name – Bone Scraper. Retribution? thought Jack, stuffing the notebook into his pocket. So be it!
When Jack put his arm around Rebecca to comfort her, he noticed that she was shaking. ‘I know how you feel, but we’ll get through this, you’ll see.’
‘How can you be so sure? After all that’s happened?’
‘Cassandra asked me to remind you of something.’
‘Oh?’
‘The door is open wide ...’
‘She said that?’
‘Yes. Does this mean something to you?’
Rebecca buried her face under Jack’s arm. ‘Oh Jack,’ she sobbed. ‘Hold me.’
‘You have something to show us – right? ’ said Jack after a while, changing direction. Rebecca nodded. Jack pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. Rebecca wiped her face and blew her nose. Feeling better, she reached for the duffel bag on the seat next to her.
‘This is what Cassandra gave me,’ she said, and unzipped the bag.
Remembering that fateful night at Never Never Downs, she reached inside and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.
‘Do you know what it is?’ asked Jack.
‘No. But after she gave it to me she did say that I was holding the Wizard’s fate in my hands.’
‘Interesting ...’ said Jack.
‘She also said that it was only to be opened if something happened to her, and that we must never show it to Anna or her mother.’
‘Well, they’re not here. Let’s open it and have a look,’ said Jack. ‘And then I’ll tell you what she told me about it.’
‘I can’t watch this any longer,’ said Rebecca, feeling sick. The item in the parcel had turned out to be a DVD; a recording of the bizarre initiation ritual showing Anna and her friend being violently raped by a group of men wearing the distinctive Wizards of Oz masks. A cross between bondage and outright torture, it was a humiliating sexual power-play of male dominance and pain.
‘Good God! How could anyone do something like that?’ exclaimed Andrew, shaking his head.
‘This happened at the farm where we found the secretaire,’ said Jack, pointing to the computer screen. ‘There, look. The wall of numbers – all sixes – I told you about. And the fireplace with the black candles and the goat’s head above the mantelpiece – see? The room’s exactly as Will and I found it.’
‘That’s enough for now,’ said Andrew, switching off the computer. ‘Jesus!’ In all his years as a frontline police officer, he had never seen anything quite like it.
‘Surely
this is damming evidence,’ said Jack, ‘linking the Wizards to Anna and her friend. It can’t get more explicit than this. It’s what we’ve been looking for. What do you think, Andrew?’
‘Looks like it, but with the masks and the poor picture quality, it will be difficult to identify anyone ...’
‘What if Anna remembers?’
‘Well ...’
‘Is that all you can think of?’ said Rebecca. ‘Anna’s friend died, and Anna lost her mind ...’
Jack walked over to Rebecca and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I know what you’re saying, but that’s exactly what we’re thinking of,’ he said quietly.
‘Sorry. And Cassandra was aware of all this and sat on it all these years and kept quiet? A woman and a mother? I don’t get it ...’
‘It’s not that simple. There’s a lot more to all this ... Let me tell you what she said just before she died. You were there, but you couldn’t have heard it all. I could hardly hear her myself.’
‘You’re right, we haven’t,’ said Andrew.
Jack pulled his little notebook out of his pocket and put it on the table in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he recounted almost everything Cassandra had told him. However, he didn’t mention the Bone Scraper or the tunnel. Nor did he talk about how Anna’s destiny and fate were intertwined with Cassandra’s astonishing past and relentless pursuit of retribution.
It was a spontaneous decision; it had nothing to do with lack of trust. Jack just needed a little more time to come to terms with what Cassandra had asked him to do, and why. When he finished speaking, the silence in the room was deafening.
‘Well – what do you think?’ asked Jack after a while.
‘We can’t suppress evidence,’ replied Andrew.
‘We don’t have to,’ Jack said.
‘We have to give the DVD to the police.’
‘I understand that. But there’s a way we can do what she asked without breaking the law.’
‘How?’ asked Andrew.
‘It’s all in the timing.’
‘Explain.’
‘This is how it would work. But first, we would all have to agree that we’re in this together – right?’
During the next half hour, Jack outlined his plan. He had obviously given it a lot of thought because he appeared to have an answer to every question, and a convincing argument to meet every objection.
‘That’s about it, guys. Are you with me?’
‘Not bad, but it’s risky,’ said Andrew.
‘Look who’s talking. And what have we done so far – eh?’ replied Jack. ‘And anyway, it’s mainly my neck on the line ...’
‘You’re not just doing this because he burnt your house down?’ asked Rebecca, a worried look on her face.
‘That’s part of it. But I made a promise and I intend to keep it. And besides, I owe it to Will,’ added Jack, his voice sounding hoarse. ‘We’ve come this far ... and also ... think of the story. The countess has given me exclusive rights to the whole shebang.’
‘I’m for it,’ said Andrew, raising his hand. ‘We’ll have to stretch a few rules, but ...’ On top of everything else, he thought, to bring the Wizard to justice would be quite a coup and teach his former superiors a lesson they wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Vindication was worth the risk.
‘Me too, I’m in,’ said Rebecca, feeling better. ‘But I need my star author alive and in one piece. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal.’
69
On the way back to Sydney, 8 March
The Sergeant-at-Arms hurried across to the Bone Scraper’s table. The mole had just reported in: something unusual was afoot in the Wizards’ camp. The Warriors had successfully infiltrated the Wizards’ ranks by having one of their own admitted as a junior member. This had only happened quite recently, and was seen as a major coup. With eyes and ears close to the Wizard and his council, the Bone Scraper finally had a source of valuable intelligence – and it was about to pay off.
To interrupt the Bone Scraper while he was eating was never a good idea. Like most huge men, he loved his food.
‘The Wizards are evacuating the compound,’ said the Sergeant-at-Arms, coming straight to the point.
‘Are you sure?’ asked the Bone Scraper, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘Looks like it.’
‘When?’
‘They’re leaving right now.’
It took a lot to get the Bone Scraper excited, but this could be the opportunity he’d been waiting for. For the Wizards to pull out, they must be expecting trouble – big trouble. And trouble for the Wizards was good news for the Warriors. Maybe the time to strike had arrived.
‘Send a couple of scouts over to watch the place.’
‘I already have.’
Belching loudly, the Bone Scraper pushed his plate aside. ‘With guys like you by my side, we’ll go a long way,’ he said and stood up. ‘Let’s get ready, just in case.’
Jack couldn’t have timed his call better, but getting in touch with the Bone Scraper personally was never easy. The Bone Scraper didn’t trust telephones and conducted most of his business face to face. As president of the notorious WMC – Warriors Motorcycle Club – he had several underlings to take care of his calls. The best Jack managed was to speak to the Sergeant-at-Arms. He said he had an urgent message for the Bone Scraper from Cassandra, and that he had to deliver it in person. The Sergeant-at-Arms rang back ten minutes later wanting to know what the message was about. Reluctant to give too much away, Jack mentioned only two names: the Wizard and Tiki Joe, the Bone Scraper’s dead brother.
The feud between the Wizards and the Warriors was legendary. The two leaders hated each other as only men who had once been very close could hate. The Wizards had wounded Tiki Joe in a drive-by shooting, taken him back to their compound and let him die a slow and agonising death. It was rumoured that it had been a ritual killing. Tiki Joe’s mutilated body was dumped in front of the Warriors’ clubhouse as a warning. Then the conflict really escalated.
More recently, during the famous Pagliacci incident at the Opera House, the Wizards had burnt down the Warriors’ clubhouse and driven them underground. Even so, the Warriors had staged a comeback and were making substantial inroads into the Wizards’ lucrative drug business. They were growing stronger every year, and were waiting in the wings to take over.
With an exclusive membership of South Sea Islanders, the Warriors were a true brotherhood, practising discipline and brutality to match that of the Wizards. In many ways, they were superior, especially on the ground. The Wizards, on the other hand, had a ‘brain edge’ in that they managed to recruit members from all walks of life with qualifications few Islanders had. That was their strength. They were also better connected and had a stronger cash flow. And in the bikie business, cash was king.
Jack had chosen the right approach. By mentioning the two names, he had opened old wounds and stoked the fires of hatred and revenge. He was told to go to an address in Blacktown, one of Sydney’s outer western suburbs, at ten o’clock that night. Jack knew he was cutting it fine, but with the plane leaving Broome within the hour, he should just make it.
‘The more I think about this plan of yours, the crazier it gets,’ said Rebecca. The familiar hum of the engines made her drowsy and for the first time in days, she felt relaxed. What she had experienced in the past week was more than most of her posh glass-tower colleagues in New York would experience in a lifetime. But now that the adrenaline rush had subsided, reason was beginning to examine harsh reality.
Against all odds, they had found Anna alive. Had it not been for Cassandra’s insights, Andrew’s contacts and outstanding detective work, and Jack’s courage and dogged persistence, Anna would have died in the cave.
However, several people had died. First Pigeon, then Zoran and the hapless Banjo. Then Will sacrificed his life to save his friend, and Cassandra was killed protecting Anna. And to think that Anna’s abductor had become her saviour and prote
ctor, and had fathered her child, was bordering on the unbelievable.
And there was more. After the initial euphoria of being reunited with her mother, it had soon become apparent that Anna had serious mental health problems. Acute memory loss, childlike confusion and lack of confidence were some of the more obvious symptoms. A slight speech defect and inability to express herself properly complicated matters further, especially for the investigating police. An accurate diagnosis of her condition still had a long way to go and would require specialists. Any road to recovery was certain to be paved with heartache and pain.
Refusing to leave her daughter’s bedside, the countess had remained in Broome to watch over Anna and her newborn child. Professor Popov had left Rome and was due to arrive soon. The professor had engaged a leading psychiatrist from Philadelphia to examine Anna, and he too was on his way.
It had soon become apparent to the authorities that Andrew’s extraordinary claim was based on fact. It was time to inform the public and to act. The Western Australian police were about to hold a press conference, and the police in Sydney were setting up a taskforce to investigate the Wizards.
The story was huge. The government’s spin doctors were already hard at work putting their own interpretation on what had happened, to deflect any criticism or blame.
All hell was about to break loose. Anna and her family would find themselves in the centre of a media storm not seen in Australia since Azaria Chamberlain had disappeared at Uluru thirty years earlier. The agony of not knowing was about to be replaced by the agony of knowing too much and having to share it with a curious world.
Jack turned to Rebecca and reached for her hand. ‘It’s not quite as crazy as it sounds. It’s not finished until it’s over, and this is far from over. After all Cassandra has done, we can’t just abandon her boy. Both of us have made a promise. We can’t walk away – you and I couldn’t live with that. And besides, the bastard burnt my house down. I liked that house ... and Will ...’
Rebecca leaned across to Jack and kissed him on the cheek.
‘The door is open wide, what did she mean by that?’ asked Jack.
The Disappearance of Anna Popov Page 31