by Drew Lindsay
‘Your husband obviously had some other kind of business arrangement with Loa Tei.’
‘The business arrangement was with Feye Langi. He owns two chemist shops in Tonga and giftware and clothing which I design is sold at both shops. Langi supplies locally made carvings and other items which my husband sold to clients in Sydney.
‘You and your husband met with Loa Tei on Fa Fa Island resort just over a month before he was killed,’ said Detective Hannam. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sophia. ‘Joe said it was business. He usually deals with the guy who owns the chemist shop but Loa Tei was sent in his place for some reason. They talked in the restaurant. I stayed in the jungle hut.’
‘Loa is a very attractive woman from the photographs I’ve seen,’ said Hannam.
‘So am I,’ said Sophia, looking directly at him with her deep hazel and grey eyes. ‘Where are we going with this Detective Hannam?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Hannam.
‘Obviously.’
‘Your husband was injected with Sodium Pentothal before he died,’ said Hannam. ‘He was also burned around the genitals with something like a soldering iron.’
‘I know he was tortured,’ said Sophia crossing her arms over her breasts and hugging each arm. ‘I don’t need to hear that again. I saw what they did to him. What did the Sodium Pentothal do?’
‘It has been used to get people to tell the truth. It’s also been used in legal executions. The Forensic examiner feels that the Sodium Pentothal was responsible for stopping your husband’s heart, combined with the shock from the pain inflicted upon him.’
Sophia nodded.
‘What were they after?’ asked Hannam.
‘I don’t know!’
‘Is your clothing design and manufacture business exclusively connected with your husband’s import and export business?’
‘No. Some of my clothing goes to Tonga but most of it is sold in Australia and New Zealand. My clothing line is not aimed specifically at a Tongan market and there are only two retail outlets that carry my items and they only do it as a sideline, as you know.’
Fred Hannam looked at his female partner in desperation. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.
Sunia Stafford wasn’t a shy person, notwithstanding her Tongan heritage. In fact she was the dead opposite, although she usually kept her mouth shut unless she was given the opportunity to interrogate. She had just been given that opportunity. ‘Did your husband trade in jewellery Mrs. Hunter?’
Sophia took her hands off her arms and folded her hands in her lap. ‘Yes.’
‘Trinkets or very valuable jewellery?’
‘Trinkets and giftware. The sort of things you can buy in many chemist shops.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘I made more money than him with my clothing line,’ said Sophia.
‘There is evidence on his laptop that he had made inquiries into jewellery presented to a former king of Tonga many years ago.’
‘Along with a touch of pornography as well,’ said Sophia. ‘My husband was into that sort of thing. I am as well if you must know.’
‘I don’t really care about your interest in pornography Mrs. Hunter.’
Sophia looked the woman over slowly. ‘I can understand why.’
‘The Queen of England presented King George Tupou IV with a necklace almost 20 years ago,’ said Detective Stafford.
‘So?’
‘Your husband seemed very interested in this gift.’
‘So?’
‘What do you know about it?’ asked Detective Stafford.
Sophia leaned forward. ‘Not a bloody thing.’
‘Someone stole the necklace from the Royal Palace in Tonga around 2 years ago.’
‘Well it wasn’t me,’ said Sophia. ‘I’ve never even seen the Royal Palace in Tonga.’
‘Did you question your husband concerning his relationship with Loa Tei?’ asked Sunia Stafford.
‘No.’
‘Even though Ms.Tei is one of the most attractive women in Tonga?’
Sophia was silent.
‘Some say a most accommodating woman,’ said Stafford.
Sophia stood. ‘Please show our guests out,’ she said, glancing at Ann Flynn who had been standing off to one side.
Fred Hannam stood. He knew the meeting was over. He and his partner left.
Sophia strode back and forth in the large lounge room. The curtains were drawn. It was a moonlit night but she didn’t want to look out over the glistening water of Elizabeth Bay. She didn’t want to see anything pretty. She felt like hell had boiled up inside her. She felt confused and betrayed.
‘Where is that damn pizza guy?’
‘He’s coming,’ said Ann. ‘You shouldn’t eat too much pizza.’
‘I’ll eat what I bloody well like. I’m pissed off.’
‘I can see that,’ said Ann.
‘I’m not sorry he’s dead,’ said Sophia. ‘He was obviously up to something behind my back and I was too stupid to see it.’
‘Will pizza make you feel better?’
‘Along with a big glass of scotch on ice.’
‘Sophia…’
‘Don’t Sophia me. Get me a glass of scotch.’
Ann walked to a mirrored side cabinet. She took a handful of ice from the bar fridge, dropped it into a glass worth almost $200 and poured 18 year old whisky over the ice. The doorbell rang as she handed the glass to Sophia. Ann opened the door and unlocked the security screen. She paid the young boy and took possession of a huge supreme pizza. She caught sight of a tall solid man standing at the top of the driveway, watching.
‘There’s a man standing up there,’ she said to the pizza delivery boy.’
‘Yeah. I walked past him and said hello but he didn’t answer.’
‘Was he standing there when you arrived?’ asked Ann.
‘Yeah.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ann as she closed and locked the door.
‘Best damn pizza in the world,’ said Sophia, biting into another slice filled with beef, seafood, vegetables, chilli and cheese.
‘There’s a man outside watching the place,’ said Ann.
‘Well go out and shoo him away.’
‘He’s very big,’ said Ann. ‘Perhaps we should call the police.’
‘Whatever,’ said Sophia, sipping her scotch.
Ann stood and walked through the darkened hallway to the front of the house. She climbed the stairs to the first floor and looked through parted curtains towards the street. The big man was still there. He was well outside the circle of light thrown by the streetlight. He made no attempt to move. She took a mobile phone from the pocket of her jeans and rang the police emergency line.
Uniformed police arrived at the house 46 minutes later. The man was gone. The police wanted to speak with Sophia about the incident but Ann refused them entry to the house. She was angry at their late arrival. A female police officer advised her not to call them again just because a man was standing in the street. Ann was advised that any further calls might take much longer to receive a response.
‘Are you sure you saw a man in the street watching my house?’
‘Yes,’ said Ann. ‘Stop drinking and listen to me.’
‘And the police couldn’t find him?’
‘The police didn’t even look for him.’
‘You’re paranoid baby,’
‘You need some protection Sophia. I don’t know how to protect you.’
‘Can you stay tonight?’
‘Yes, just tonight and then I have my own home to go to. Something is wrong here Sophia.’
Sophia licked her long fingers. ‘Damn good pizza.’
‘Something is wrong and it’s connected with Joe’s death.’
Sophia wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. ‘Yes. I suppose you’re right.’
‘You can afford private protection.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘Very good from
what Milba says.’
‘I hate you for not connecting me up with Milba Berry,’ said Sophia.
‘She’s a friend,’ said Ann. ‘She doesn’t want to model clothing. She works movies.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Ben Hood.’
‘How old is this protector of women who may or may not be in some kind of danger?’
‘Fifty two.’
‘Oh my Lord! Do I have to provide him with a walking frame?’
‘He’s very fit.’
‘Is he on a pension or something?’
‘He’s quite wealthy,’ said Ann.
‘What does he charge per day?’
‘I’ll have to negotiate that with his employer,’ said Ann.
‘He works for someone?’
‘Apparently.’
Sophia stood. ‘I’m going for a long hot shower. Bring this old man in for a 2 minute interview and I’ll decide what to do.’
“****”
CHAPTER SIX
The VIP protection operation was owned and managed by Rodney Reid of Castle Hill, an outer suburb of Sydney. The business was operated from his home. Rodney employed a small, handpicked number of operatives to handle cases. His most valuable operative was ex police detective Ben Hood. Ben had reluctantly commenced working for Rodney when he and the police department parted ways following Ben’s shooting of a number of violent criminals. No criminal charges were ever laid against Ben, nor were departmental findings of wrong doing. It was simply felt best for everyone if he resigned as it was clear Ben’s attitude and that of the police department senior officers was on a collision course.
Ben at 52 had spent many years training in a very deadly form of unarmed combat known as Ninjutsu. His teacher, Akira Misaki was a world expert in this and many other forms of unarmed combat. Ninjutsu is the martial art, strategy and tactics of unconventional and guerrilla warfare practiced by the Shinobi in Japan. In Ben’s case he was also trained in methods of combat known as gutter fighting. This was fighting to survive and conquer the opponent using any available objects and means at hand. These skills not only kept Ben fit, but had saved his and other lives many times.
Ben and Rodney had formed a strong bond in a short time. They tended to argue a lot and Rodney was extremely vocal concerning some of Ben’s activities while working for him, especially when people were killed. Rodney also felt that Ben’s relationships with many of the female clients were not appropriate and he was not backward in pointing this out. Ben was divorced. He felt that if he was attracted to a woman, and she to him, it was none of Rodney’s business what happened between them. The assignments usually turned out successfully. Rodney made a lot of money out of him. Argument closed.
Rodney was married to Rose Reid, a doctor and surgeon who had now retired. Rose and Rodney met in the operating theatre of a large city hospital where she later amputated his mangled right foot following a motor vehicle accident. Rose doted on her husband but had a special fondness for Ben and mothered him whenever possible. She also defended Ben against the frequent verbal attacks from Rodney. The three had formed a unique relationship through various trials and each would have done anything for the other if required.
Ben had parked his gunmetal grey Aston Martin on the cobblestone driveway outside the Reid residence and was welcomed by Rose in her usual enthusiastic manner. She held his hand and led him through to the kitchen and the sunroom beyond. Rodney was propped up amongst thick cushions on his frangipani print lounge chair, surrounded by files with his laptop computer positioned where most laptop computers are not. His was actually on his lap. He had a long yellow pencil tucked behind his right ear and a notebook open at his side.
‘I’ll get you both coffee,’ said Rose. She let go Ben’s hand but looked up at him. ‘It’s so nice to have you back from Lord Howe Island. What a dreadful thing to happen while you were there.’
‘How many did he kill this time Rose?’ asked Rodney without looking up.
‘Ben did what he had to do,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t keep a tally of bodies. He saved that lovely movie actress from a dreadful situation and just keep that in your mind while you count the money you were paid because of Ben’s actions.’
‘He also had an affair with the island witch,’ said Rodney as he took off his glasses and looked up from the computer. ‘That went well on national television.’
‘We had a couple of brief encounters,’ said Ben. ‘It was necessary.’
‘Oh so it was just all hard work eh?’
‘It was actually,’ said Ben as he sat back in a single seater. ‘She was a very demanding and amply proportioned woman.’
‘Goodness!’ said Rose as she walked quickly to the kitchen. ‘Just listen to you pair.’
‘I can imagine Brenda Grant wasn’t too impressed and she was our client after all.’
‘Brenda and I parted the best of friends.’
‘So I hear,’ said Rodney, closing the lid of the laptop and placing it on the floor. ‘Thank God for that.’
‘Yeah I know…valued client,’ said Ben.
‘Filthy rich valued client,’ said Rodney.
‘Very beautiful valued client,’ said Ben, smiling.
‘At your age, you’ll do yourself an injury behaving like that,’ said Rodney.
‘No I won’t.’
‘What happened to your hand?’ said Rodney nodding in the direction of Ben’s left hand. There was a large waterproof surgical bandage across his palm.
‘The witch’s son tried to stick me with a knife. He was determined to kill both his mother and me.’
‘You snapped his neck so I hear?’
Ben nodded. ‘I’m not fond of being stabbed.’
‘I myself have never been stabbed,’ said Rodney. ‘That is why I send you out on all the dangerous jobs.’
‘It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous job.’
‘None of them are but you somehow manage to turn them into a damn range war.’
Ben crossed his right leg over his left knee. ‘Alright, I’m here. What do you want?’
‘This one is a bobby dazzler.’
‘No.’
‘I haven’t even told you what it is.’
‘I thought you were going to discuss an increase in my hourly rate,’ said Ben.
‘You’ve got more money than I do buster. Look at the damn car you drive.’
‘That was a gift!’
‘Oh yes. Grateful client. I forgot there for a moment. Did you sleep with his daughter? I keep forgetting just who you sleep with these days.’
‘Shut up Rodney,’ said Rose as she placed a tray on the coffee table. She handed Ben his coffee in his favourite mug. Sugar and milk had already been added. She then took a mug of coffee to Rodney, handed it to him and kissed him on the top of his head. ‘Keep it clean boys. I’m here now.’ She picked up her cup of tea and sat down in a single lounge chair next to Ben’s.
‘Where’s the cake and biscuits?’ asked Rodney.
‘I have dinner cooking. Ben is staying for dinner and we don’t need cake and biscuits.’
‘I could smell the lamb baking,’ said Ben. ‘My favourite.’
‘I know darling.’ She looked at Rodney. ‘His too.’
‘Roast potatoes with sweet potato?’ asked Rodney.
‘The works,’ said Rose. ‘Ben’s back and thankfully in one piece, other than that patch on your left hand. Don’t think I didn’t notice.’
‘He got stabbed,’ said Rodney. ‘Just a bloody scratch.’
‘Twelve stitches,’ said Ben. He grinned at Rose. ‘I’ll have another nice scar thanks to your husband’s “safe” jobs.’
‘Speaking of safe jobs,’ said Rodney, sipping at his coffee. ‘I have one that is sure to catch your full attention.’
‘I’m wounded,’ said Ben. ‘I can’t start another job.’
‘Man up for God’s sake. There’s probably nothing in this one. Then again, it has my full attention.’
‘The client has his full attention,’ said Rose in a rather distasteful tone. ‘Sydney socialite loaded with money and good looks not to mention huge breasts.’
‘Perhaps I might be interested,’ said Ben.
‘Ha Ha! Gotcha,’ said Rose. ‘She hasn’t got big breasts at all.’
‘Don’t lie to him darling,’ said Rodney. ‘She’s fronted Swimsuit Annual and sales of that magazine went through the roof.’
‘What on earth would you know about Swimsuit Annual?’ asked Rose glancing at Ben.
‘It’s online. I browse,’ said Rodney.
‘I’m going to put a parental block on that damn computer of yours.’
‘You’re not my parent,’ said Rodney.
‘Who’s the client?’ asked Ben.
‘Sophia Hunter.’
Ben sipped his coffee. ‘Wow! She’s hot and I’m not talking about the coffee.’
‘Her assistant has reported a man hanging around outside their Elizabeth Bay mansion at night,’ said Rodney.
‘Why haven’t the police been involved?’ asked Ben.
‘The police have attended on two occasions now. We’re advised by the client’s assistant that the police are dragging their feet somewhat.’
‘They do that with prowlers,’ said Ben. ‘The city is full of perverts and prowlers.’
‘Perhaps you could go out there for a few nights, get hold of this prowler and have a chat…if you know what I mean,’ said Rodney.
‘Rodney Reid!’ said Rose. ‘How could you suggest such a thing when you know what that could lead to?’
‘Just a thought,’ said Rodney.
‘He’s not telling you everything,’ said Rose.
‘He never tells me everything,’ said Ben, sipping his coffee and placing the mug on the table in front of him. ‘What’s the full story?’