by Drew Lindsay
‘I’ll drink to both of those,’ said Ann, smiling at Ben.
‘Do you have paper and a clip board?’ asked Ben.
‘For your list?’
‘For our list,’ said Ben. He looked at Sophia. ‘When you finally surface tomorrow, pack for Tonga. I’m arranging for us to stay on Fa Fa Island, so you won’t need much.’
‘Why that island?’ asked Sophia.
‘It’s a starting point.’
‘I don’t really want to go.’
‘You’ll go,’ said Ben. There was a forceful edge to his voice. ‘This is important.’
‘I’m getting a headache.’
‘Do you have anything handy to fix that?’ asked Ben, glancing at Ann.
‘A cupboard full of stuff. She’s stressed, that’s all.’
‘Get her some pills and let’s get to work.’
‘I haven’t eaten,’ said Sophia, putting her drink down on a side table. ‘I’m sick of take away.’
‘Neither of us knows how to cook,’ said Ann.
‘Do you have things stored in your freezer and pantry?’ asked Ben.
‘I heard my grandmother talk about a pantry once,’ said Sophia. ‘I used to think it was a place where she kept her panties.
‘We’ve got lots of frozen things as well as herbs and stuff which might be well out of date,’ said Ann. ‘Joe used to cook sometimes…when he was around.’
‘And that wasn’t often,’ said Sophia sarcastically.
Ben stood. ‘I want everything on that list. I want to know how you got to Sydney airport and which flights you took to Tonga. I want to know who did the transfers and which bungalows you stayed in.’
‘Fales,’ said Sophia.
‘Whatever. I want to know where you went, who took you and who you met with.’
‘The lovely Loa met us on Fa Fa Island on our second day,’ said Sophia with malice in her voice. ‘Then they both disappeared off somewhere for a couple of hours. I didn’t see her leave.’
‘I need full details of that meeting. Time and place and where they could have spent time together while Loa was on the island.’ He gave her a look that left no doubt that he was totally serious. ‘Every tiny detail or I’ll make you do it again.’
‘You’re getting a bit bossy mate,’ said Sophia.
‘Then sack me.’
Sophia was about to reach for her drink but changed her mind. ‘So you’ll cook dinner for us while we write details?’
‘Yep.’
‘What are you going to cook?’
‘I’ll know that when I see what you’ve got,’ said Ben.
‘Who taught you to cook?’
‘My mother and a few other people along the way.’
‘Are you good?’
‘That will be up to you to decide,’ said Ben as he left the room and walked to the stairway.’
‘How did he know the kitchen was downstairs?’ asked Sophia, glancing at Ann.
‘Don’t ask. He’s spooky.’
‘He had better be able to cook or he’s fired.’
‘We had better work on that list or we’re fired,’ said Ann.
‘He can’t fire us! We hired him for God’s sake!’
Ann stopped at the door to the upstairs office. ‘Do you get the feeling that he’s not our usual type of employee?’
‘Just get the damn paper,’ said Sophia, reaching for her drink.
“****”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sophia cleaned her plate with almost the same efficiency as a dishwasher. She gently laid down her fork and spoon and sat back. She sipped chilled white wine. ‘And you’re single.’
‘Divorced,’ said Ben.
‘Did she hate food?’
‘Long story,’ said Ben.
‘And you got all of that out of my damn freezer and pantry, as you and my grandmother call it.’
‘It was Thai. I love to cook Thai and you had frozen chickens and prawns, both out of date I might add, but with some spice and chilli, they worked perfectly.’
‘Bloody oath!’ said Ann. ‘Bloody hot but I love it hot.’
‘You can’t get that sort of taste in take away,’ said Sophia.
‘I had to fake some of the tastes,’ said Ben, ‘but it’s amazing what you can find in a kitchen cupboard.’
‘We’ve done the list,’ said Sophia. ‘The smells coming up from the kitchen drove us onward! Did she divorce you over your cooking skills?’
Ben put down his spoon and fork. ‘The best male chefs in the world are rarely happy in any kind of relationship. If you go one step backwards and suggest that you’re stupid enough to marry a cop, and especially a detective, you’re on the road to disaster before you even know it.’
‘I want the recipe for the shredded chicken in that spicy thick broth,’ said Ann. ‘I could pull a man with that dish just by itself.’
‘You entertain every man you drag back to your place with a damn pizza,’ said Sophia with a grin.
‘As do you,’ said Ann.
‘I do not!’ She looked at Ben. ‘And the last one with rice and that damn hot prawn dish? I didn’t know we had frozen prawns.’
‘They were in there, frozen to death and just waiting to be put in Gaeng Khiaw Waan Goong with boiled rice and eggs,’ said Ben. ‘Your tinned coconut milk is out of date but it was fine.’
‘I’ll never disrespect my freezer again,’ said Sophia. ‘I also love it when you talk dirty.’
‘Did you complete the list?’ asked Ben, ignoring her comment.’
‘We’ll go over it again tomorrow,’ said Ann.
‘Damn alcohol,’ said Sophia. ‘Gets you every time.’
‘I’ll clean up the dining room,’ said Ann. ‘I’ll stay again tonight.’
Ben nodded as he rose from the table. ‘You need to grow fresh coriander. Dried leaves just won’t do it.’
‘I’ll keep it in mind,’ said Sophia.
‘Goodnight then,’ said Ben as he left the room.
Sophia took the last sip of her wine and gently placed the glass back on a golden coaster. ‘He wants me to grow bloody fresh coriander.’
‘It appears so,’ said Ann, smiling.
‘And go to Tonga with him.’
‘Yes.’
‘And he cooks the most amazing stuff out of my freezer and pantry, whatever that is, as if he’s done it all his life.’
‘I’ll just clear the table and we can go upstairs,’ said Ann.
‘Did you hire him?’
‘He came highly recommended,’ said Ann, pushing long strands of black hair from her face.
‘That’s right, your Aboriginal friend.’
‘Milba Berry.’
Sophia tossed down her white napkin. ‘I don’t want to talk about that. I just want her body in one of my designs.’
‘You have more important things to sort out darling,’ said Ann.
Sophia ran a long slender finger around the tiny morsels that remained on her plate. She sucked at her finger and wiped it on the napkin. ‘I want him.’
‘You can’t have him,’ said Ann. ‘He’s here to protect you.’
‘So I can’t have Milba Berry to model my clothing designs and I can’t have Ben Hood in my bed?’
‘No you can’t.’
Sophia stood and pushed back her chair. ‘He would take me you know.’
‘I’d suggest you head up to your bedroom,’ said Ann. ‘You’ve had quite a bit to drink.’
‘Says you!’
‘You’ll make a goose out of yourself,’ said Ann.
‘Goose?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you mean geese?’
‘That’s more than one goose,’ said Ann. ‘I’ll take you upstairs.’
‘Alright.’ The two women left the room, Sophia rather unsteadily on her feet.
Bell opened the door and bowed to Ben. He returned the bow and handed her his shoes. Wind chimes tinkled softly. She gave him slippers that had been allocated spe
cifically for his visits and led him down the hallway, past the private Ninjutsu training room to the sunroom at the back of the house. The small, beautiful Japanese girl bowed again and glanced at Akira Misaki who was seated on a large hand carved timber chair at the left side of the room. He was reading a large book with a well worn spine. ‘It’s about time for tea,’ she said.
Akira nodded but kept his eyes on the book.
‘I’ll bring coffee for Ben,’ she said.
‘The artificial stimulus of coffee may have an adverse effect on his brain,’ said Akira. The 64 year old Korean man snapped the book shut with a large calloused hand and laid it gently on a table in front of him. He glanced at Ben. Ben bowed. ‘Ahn nyoung ha seh yoh,’ said Ben. (formal Korean greeting)
‘It’s been quite a while,’ said Akira. ‘You’re starting to look like shit again.’
‘Doesn’t the green tea you drink have an artificial stimulus similar to coffee?’
‘No.’
‘I’m sure I read it somewhere,’ said Ben, walking to his old friend and extending his right hand. Akira shook it firmly.
‘I’ll be back in a little while,’ said Bell as she turned and left the room.
Akira Misaki, Ben’s fighting teacher, was one of the most highly qualified and respected men in unarmed fighting in the world. He held the honoured rank of 8th Dan Hachidan Japanese and Pal Dan Korean. He was quite a bit smaller in stature than Ben but was built like a brick shithouse, as they say in Australia. He was solid and muscular with huge hands, thick neck and totally shaved head.
‘You’ve let your training go,’ he said.
‘I’ve been busy but I did some training while I was working.’
‘Diving in caves and laying around on tropical beaches? You call that training?’
‘I got a fair workout during those assignments,’ said Ben.
‘As you edge towards 60, you have to maintain a daily training schedule which has nothing whatsoever to do with your work assignments. Your daily training prepares you for those assignments, not the other way around.’
Ben nodded.
‘And the Baoding balls?’
‘They drive me nuts,’ said Ben. ‘I just can’t get them.’
‘You must work with them in order to get them. They weren’t designed to be easy.’
‘I didn’t come here to talk about Baoding balls,’ said Ben.
‘Or to train,’ said Akira.
‘Do you have more to teach me?’
‘There is always more to learn.’ Akira tapped a thick finger on the book in front of him. ‘This was written by Masutatsu Oyama. He was a master Karate expert although he preferred to fight savage bulls than men on occasion.’
‘Bulls.’
‘He would snap off their horns and if things got nasty, he would give them a killing punch.’
‘I don’t intend to be taking on bulls in the foreseeable future,’ said Ben.
‘He wasn’t all that concerned with fighting bulls,’ said Akira. ‘He tended to get caught up in commercial ventures in the 50’s.’ He glanced at Ben. ‘You know about commercial ventures, don’t you?’
‘I’m being sent to Tonga on a rather delicate assignment,’ said Ben. ‘It may engage some rather high level diplomatic issues involving the United Kingdom Royal Family as well as the Royal Family of Tonga.’
Akira sat back and folded his muscular arms. ‘I thought you were a bodyguard?’
‘We both know how that has worked out,’ said Ben. ‘I’m in fact hired to guard Mrs. Sophia Hunter.’
Bell walked back into the room with a tray and gave a tiny bow. ‘So sorry for interrupting but your tea and coffee will get cold.’
‘You run the house,’ said Akira. ‘You are free to come and go as you please, especially when Ben is our guest.’
Bell placed a china tea cup and saucer with a small pot of green tea on the table before Akira. She served Ben coffee in a large mug. Milk and sugar had already been added in the proportions Ben liked. Cake and biscuits were not usually served in the Misaki residence. ‘May I speak?’ asked Bell.
Akira had been reaching for the teapot but he stopped and looked at her. ‘You rarely ask this my dear.’
‘I overheard you mention Mrs. Hunter.’
‘Do you know her?’ asked Akira, frowning slightly.
‘She imports Japanese silk of the finest quality and she makes my clothing.’
Akira was silent for a moment, his mouth slightly open. He looked at Ben. ‘Did you know this?’
‘No,’ said Ben, sipping his coffee. ‘I came here for another reason.’
‘Please sit with us Bell,’ said Akira gently. ‘I sense a union of spirits.’
‘I call it gut feeling,’ said Ben. ‘May I ask how well you know Mrs. Hunter?’
Bell sat in a chair opposite her husband. She clasped her hands together on her lap but didn’t speak. ‘Ben is like a son,’ said Akira as he looked at Bell. ‘We talk openly with him.’
‘Perhaps three years. I was invited for a fitting at her home and I’ve been back once or twice for morning tea.’ Bell looked nervous. ‘I told you this Akira,’ she said.
Akira slowly poured green tea into the china cup. He replaced the teapot and picked up the delicate cup in his huge fingers. Ben smiled. ‘You really should use a bigger cup.’
Akira sipped his tea. ‘I like delicate things.’ He glanced at Bell. ‘You may come and go as you please my dear,’ he said. ‘We have never questioned each other in this regard.’
‘Mrs. Hunter’s husband was recently murdered,’ said Bell.
Akira looked at Ben. ‘So now we are back to you.’
‘She’s my client,’ said Ben.
There was a long silence in the room. Akira sipped more tea. Ben had learned never to rush Akira. He had said his bit and now it was Akira’s turn to respond. Eventually Akira put down his tea cup and sat back in the huge chair. He fixed his eyes on Ben. ‘Did you know of Bell’s relationship with Mrs. Hunter?’
‘No.’
‘Then why did you come and see me?’
‘You knew king Taufa’ahau Tupou IV of Tonga,’ said Ben.
‘How do you know this?’
‘You gave him some Karate lessons when he lived in Sydney. He was a dedicated athlete.’
‘Yes he was,’ said Akira. ‘Did you get this from the Internet?’
Ben nodded.
‘I saw him several times over almost 15 years both in Sydney and in Tonga. I was an honoured guest at his funeral at Male’e Kula in Nuku’Alofa, Tonga, in September, 2006. It was supposed to be secret.’
‘I saw you in a photograph at the Male’e Kula Royal burial,’ said Ben.
‘Damn Internet and all that rubbish. Is nothing sacred?’
‘I’ve been invited with Mrs. Hunter and her personal assistant, to have an audience with the current king of Tonga, George Tupou VI. Do you know him?’
‘No,’ said Akira. ‘He is a son of the king I knew.’
‘Did you know the previous king, George V?’ asked Ben.
‘That was the current king’s older brother. I knew their father. He died in 2006. He was a great man in many ways.’ Akira was silent for a moment. ‘We all have our failings.’
‘So you have no connection with the current king of Tonga?’
Akira poured more tea into the tiny tea cup and gently put down the china pot. ‘He spoke to me once by telephone in 2012,’ said Akira, rubbing both hands across his bald head. ‘He asked me for a favour because of my previous relationship with his father.’ Akira paused for a moment. ‘I told him I couldn’t help him. It was a theft from the royal palace. It was a matter for the police, not for me.’
‘A necklace?’ asked Ben.
Akira stared at him. ‘How do you know this?’
Ben put down his coffee cup. ‘Perhaps we were meant to meet tonight for a reason,’ he said. ‘I leave for Tonga the day after tomorrow. There are things I need to know.’
‘Will y
ou trust us with the details of your assignment?’ asked Akira.
‘I trust you both with my life,’ said Ben.
‘I don’t need to stay,’ said Bell.
‘Yes my dear,’ said Akira. ‘You need to stay.’ He turned to Ben. ‘What has happened?’
“****”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ben cooked again that night at the Hunter residence. He bought Indian ingredients and some incense which delighted Sophia. He didn’t talk much throughout the evening as many things were churning through his mind.
Video cameras had been installed on each corner of the Hunter house that morning. Two faced the street and two faced the rear and sides of the house, each with 170 degree wide lenses. The monitors were set up in the kitchen and each camera was connected to a 24 hour video recording device.
‘You should be delighted that I’ve agreed to this ridiculous plan of yours,’ said Sophia.
‘Anyone who turns down a personal invitation from the king of Tonga, needs a brain scan,’ said Ben.
‘He doesn’t want to see us because of our sparkling intellect,’ said Sophia as she finished up the last of her meal. ‘He wants the necklace back.’
‘I don’t blame him,’ said Ann. ‘By the way, I’m going home tonight.’
‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ said Ben.
‘I’ve got to pack my stuff.’
‘You’ve got stuff here darling,’ said Sophia.
‘I need some fresh stuff and I don’t have a bikini here. If I’m going to a coral island I need a damn bikini.’
‘This isn’t a holiday,’ said Ben.
‘Maybe not for you but it is for me,’ said Ann.
‘This is dangerous,’ said Ben. ‘There are people who will go to extreme lengths to get their hands on that necklace.’
‘Well I haven’t got the bloody thing,’ said Ann. ‘It’s got nothing to do with me.’
‘You’re connected,’ said Ben. ‘You’re as much at risk as Sophia.’
‘I’m going home to pack,’ said Ann defiantly. ‘I’ll be back in the morning…late in the morning. We fly to Auckland the following day with a night’s stopover and a damn early flight the next day to Tonga.’