The Unbroken Line

by Alex Hammond

  He struggled to breathe.

  His blood spilled backwards down his throat.

  The shadows in the room seemed to grow, closing in around him, narrowing his field of vision.

  And then it stopped.

  The pressure around his neck fell away. He was no longer being held up. Instead he was falling, again, onto the ground.

  He was surprised, indignant even, that the carpet did little to stop his head from smacking into the concrete slab beneath it. He groaned and spluttered, watching as the crew cut fell to the ground beside him.

  Will looked up.

  Caja was standing over him, holding the stun gun.

  ‘I think you dropped something,’ he said, reaching a hand out to Will.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve been trained to resist interrogation,’ Will said to the two men in the lounge, now cable-tied to plastic garden chairs. Caja stood behind them, his arms crossed. ‘And I’m a lawyer, so you already know I don’t have execution or torture to threaten you with.’

  Caja frowned at this. Doubtless he did.

  Will sat on the arm of the broken couch. It sagged under him but held his weight. Conflicting impulses jarred through him – the slow abatement of adrenaline; the memory of Eva’s bloody face; the sharp pains that bit when he moved; and the chilling realisation that if not for Caja, he would be the one tied to a chair – or worse.

  And yet sucesss was the only outcome he’d imagined as he drove here. It had to have been. If he’d contemplated anything else, he would never have set foot inside the house. And, after much soul-searching, he’d come to a decision.

  ‘So I have another offer for you,’ he said. ‘Your freedom.’

  The bearded man looked up as Will said this. His scarred companion continued to stare at the broken couch.

  ‘The police managed to get a cast of one of your footprints, from the ground around the emergency exit you used after you attacked us. They are confident that if they get the boot, they can match it to the cast.’

  Will nodded to the shoes they were wearing.

  ‘The one piece of clothing you didn’t toss. I’m guessing that’s because they’re such a pain in the arse to break in.’

  He held up his phone.

  ‘I have the number for the cop who’s investigating this case. She’s very keen to bring you both in. So —’

  ‘Kidnapping is against the law,’ the bearded man said.

  ‘It is. But a citizen’s arrest, which is what I’d argue this is, isn’t. Even if the cops don’t see it that way, I’ll get charged but you’re still sitting here wearing evidence in relation to a high-profile crime. Not to mention this,’ Will said, dropping a duffle bag at their feet.

  Inside were two large white bundles wrapped tightly in cellophane. When Caja had found them, they’d been wrapped again in newspaper, a faded copy of the Lahore Post.

  ‘At a guess I’d say that’s two bricks of heroin. Straight out of Pakistan.’

  ‘They’re not ours,’ the bearded man said.

  ‘Undoubtedly. But I’m sure you don’t want to be explaining them to the police. One thing is certain. If they were to walk in here right now, none of us would be leaving without answering a lot of questions.’

  Caja had tightened the cable ties so that they pressed into the wrists and ankles of both men. The plastic chairs were moulded in a single piece. Light but very flexible, impossible to tear or break. The crew cut had struggled when he first came to, testing the bonds and cutting up his wrists.

  ‘So let’s all agree that this offer – letting you go – is a good one. It’s a genuine bargaining chip. No bullshit, no bluffs. Which one of you is Jared Emmet and which is Colin Gregory?’

  Silence.

  ‘Okay. Fine.’ Will nodded to Caja who, as they had agreed in the brief respite after the struggle, grabbed the back of the scarred man’s chair and started to drag him into the kitchen. He turned him around and placed the headphones from Will’s phone into his ears, securing them in place with gaffer tape. Caja pressed play and increased the volume.

  The thin sound of guttural screaming and industrial music drifted back into the room.

  ‘Okay, Jared, let’s talk, just you and me,’ Will said to the man in front of him. ‘You didn’t want Colin to cut her. I saw you trying to stop him. I’m guessing that when he did the same thing to those women in Afghanistan, you probably tried to stop him as well. You’re a reasonable man, Jared. I get that. I’m also guessing that for whatever fucked-up reason – he saved your life once, you saved his, whatever – you’re going to stick with the guy no matter what. I’m pretty sure that offering to let you go but keep him for the cops isn’t going to wash. Is it, Jared?’

  ‘Stop calling me Jared.’

  ‘Okay. So you’re Corporal Colin Gregory?’

  The bearded man slowly nodded.

  ‘Can you see that I’m being reasonable here? I’m offering to release you both and save you a tonne of heartache. You can catch the boat out to Swan Island on Friday and get back to your lives.’

  He glanced up at Will from beneath his tassels of wild hair.

  ‘I have an informant,’ Will said. ‘I’m not fucking around. I’ve tracked you down with the help of some professionals of my own. You get that, right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Gregory said.

  Will kicked the bag holding the heroin.

  ‘How’d you get this?’

  ‘It was a bonus. For completing the job.’

  ‘These people you worked for. They bring in drugs, don’t they?’

  Gregory nodded.

  The revelation should have satisfied him. Made him thrilled at his suspicions being proved correct. But it fell dead. It might as well amount to nothing unless he could identify the members of the Covenant.

  ‘I’d like to know who hired you. What were their names?’

  ‘Only spoke to one of them. I don’t know his name, just what he looks like.’

  ‘Do you know who Michael Eldon is?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And it wasn’t him?’

  ‘No.’

  Will took a step back. ‘You’re certain?’

  Gregory was silent.

  This was not what he was expecting. His suspicions flared, his endorphins started to pump through him. Will rode them now, trying to spur his mind into quick thought. Perhaps Quayle had been wrong; perhaps all their assumptions had been wrong.

  ‘An older man?’

  A nod from Gregory.

  ‘Based on your instincts and your training, would you say he looked like a cop?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘A lawyer?’

  ‘What the fuck does a lawyer look like?’

  He had a point. Somewhere in the police was a connection, preventing Haigh investigating Will’s attack, and setting up Miller. Somewhere in the police was a connection to Hawk’s secret society.

  ‘If you saw him, would you be able to identify him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you know where to find him?’

  ‘We met in a car park in the city.’

  ‘So, no idea.’

  ‘Not true. I have one.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. How do I know you’re going to cut us loose? You might just call the cops after I tell you.’

  ‘I agree that that might seem like a possibility. But that’s the thing about me. I’m not just some lawyer who can cop a charge of assault and wrongful arrest and wriggle his way out of it.’

  Will walked over to Emmet, picked up his phone and pressed stop. The aggressive music ceased.

  ‘I was enjoying that, cunt,’ Emmet growled.

  There was a knife lying on the kitchen bench.

  It wouldn’t be hard to cut him. Like he did to Eva.

  More. Add to what’s already there.

  Emmet wasn’t immune to pain. Or to the frightened glances of children on the street. If he wanted to act like a monster, Will could m
ake him one. It would take only seconds. Ruin his life, like he had ruined Will’s.

  Will clenched his fists and exhaled.

  Think of the end point.

  ‘Sure you were,’ Will said, patting Emmet on the head.

  Will tapped on the phone and brought up a bookmarked web page. He held it out to Gregory.

  ‘See this? It’s a newspaper report. I’m in the shit already, under investigation by the legal commissioner. If they found out about this, it would be the end of my career. It’s not the same as a prison sentence, but it’s something I don’t want to lose. That’s why I won’t call the cops, unless I have no choice.’

  Gregory looked at him, eyes staring into his. Will didn’t have to struggle to hold his composure. He wanted them to refuse, to force his hand and bring the cops in here. Because, despite his desire to learn the names of the men who’d tried to ruin him, to destroy the firm, to cow him into submission, he knew that this dirty compromise would eat at him for the rest of his life. Eva would hate him. If he turned them in, she would have an answer but he would never have his revenge.

  But Eva was gone to him; he had to let her go. The last of her trust in him was a small price to pay to start forging a life without her.

  ‘Tell me and I’ll let you go. That is my honest word.’

  Gregory’s hard eyes drilled into his. Something within Will satisfied him and he nodded.

  ‘He’s meeting with —’

  ‘Shut it,’ shouted Emmet.

  ‘No. You shut it,’ Gregory said, leaning his head in the direction of the kitchen. ‘You couldn’t leave that girl alone. You had to do it again. That’s why this fuck is here. Isn’t it?’ he said, looking at Will.

  ‘It is,’ Will said, his voice flat.

  ‘He’s meeting with the other members of his group, the Covenant.’

  The words dropped on Will like a brick. It was the first confirmation that Hawk’s Covenant was alive and well today. He started to shiver from the increase in adrenaline.

  ‘Now how could you possibly know that and not the name of the guy I’m looking for?’

  ‘He took a call when we met him.’

  ‘And you don’t happen to know where they’re meeting?’

  ‘You can’t be serious about this.’ O’Dwyer was hunched over, leaning back against his car. The rain might have eased but the wind was picking up and dark clouds were gathering.

  ‘Of course I can,’ Will said. ‘I need you to sit on Emmet while I take Gregory with me and get him to identify the guy who paid them to attack me.’

  O’Dwyer raised his hands in the air. ‘He’s a trained killer, mate. The first thing he’s going to try to do is to break free and escape. I’m a fucking witness so he’ll want to knock me off. Probably come after you as well.’

  ‘He won’t break free,’ Caja said, shaking his head. ‘Not unless you cut him loose.’

  ‘It will be a few hours at the most. These guys who ordered the attack on Eva and me, they’re going to be at the fucking Melbourne Cup. In plain sight.’

  ‘And how the hell are you going to get in there? Tickets sold out months ago. The thing starts in an hour. This is crazy.’

  ‘I know it’s crazy. But it’s all I’ve got. I’ve got a contact, someone who’s connected to the racing world. I think she can get me in. Two, maybe three hours, that’s all. This is important.’

  O’Dwyer kicked the petals off a few wild daisies growing on the nature strip. ‘Okay. Fine. But I’m charging you for hazard pay and I’m not cleaning up any piss.’

  ‘He’s a sniper. He’ll be fine. They wait in position for days. Isn’t that right?’ Will said to Caja.

  He nodded. ‘They train for it.’

  O’Dwyer shook his head. ‘Listen to the two of you. Experts in the pissing habits of other men.’

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Protesters shouted and jeered as Will’s taxi passed through the police cordon holding them back. Yesterday, a horse broke its hind leg and couldn’t be removed from the field before it was put down. Somehow, footage of the killing made it onto the internet, receiving fifty thousand views before it was pulled. A social media campaign had swelled the protesters’ ranks, resulting in an increased police presence.

  Around the cab, riot police leant into the crowd, who surged forwards in rolling waves as the day drew closer and closer to three p.m. – race time.

  A placard landed on the windscreen – 18 000 every year. The protesters claimed that this was the number of unwanted thoroughbreds slaughtered for dog food by the industry. The driver peered around the placard and navigated the car through the entrance, as paint-filled balloons splattered red over limousines and members’ cars.

  Sitting next to Will in the back seat was Colin Gregory. His wild mane was slicked back and tied into a short ponytail. The ill-fitting, hand-me-down suit Will had grabbed from his apartment bunched around Gregory’s ankles and stretched across his shoulders, pulling the sleeves short at his wrists. All that was missing was a ragged bouquet and heart-shaped box of chocolates.

  Once they’d cleared the gate, they rolled towards the stands; a temporary car park in the centre of the racetrack was filled with visitors’ cars with picnic settings spread across bonnets and in hatchback boots. Of the four buildings that looked out over the track, the Members’ Stand was best positioned to see both the final straight and parade ring. The three modern stands that dwarfed it lacked the breezy room of this original structure, their architects being paid to increase seating rather than provide sublime aesthetics. To the east of the stands were the elaborate, themed tents with their celebrities, exclusive product placements and decadent excess.

  As the cab came to a halt, Will was struck by the sheer weight of humanity around him, in a variety of suits, sunglasses, pastels and fascinators. Even now, many of the racegoers were staggering around drunk, while others preened, seeking the attention of photo­graphers, reporters and fashionistas.

  I’m never going to find them.

  Then again, he did have the trained eyes of a sniper with him.

  He looked over at Gregory, who slid on a pair of wraparound sunglasses that Will imagined had last been worn under a desert sun.

  ‘You understand what will happen if I lose sight of you?’ Will asked him.

  ‘Yeah,’ Gregory said in a calm voice, opening the door of the cab. ‘You’ll call the cops.’

  ‘Actually,’ Will said, slipping money to the driver and stepping out next to him, ‘my friend will call the cops. He’s expecting me to be in touch by three. So if he doesn’t hear from me, he’ll call the cops then.’

  Gregory nodded and started towards the stand. ‘I understand what you’re trying to do here. I get it. If someone attacked me, cut up my woman, I’d want to kill the fucker. You’re trying to be a reasonable man, to look beyond that to the root cause. I’m a reasonable man as well.’

  ‘So why are you still partnered with Emmet?’

  ‘Afghanistan.’ He wove through the crowd towards the rose-lined fence and on to the entrance turnstiles. ‘It does things to you. The world changes in front of you. It happens to all of us. That first kid you see getting his head blown in, your mate next to you being ripped apart by an IED, the body of a woman who’s been stoned to death. It’s like time speeds up suddenly and you rotate just a few more degrees ahead of everyone else on the planet, and nothing looks the same any more. Emmet’s the only other guy who understands this. I do get that he’s a fuck’n’ psycho, but you’re right that he’s not the one you should be after.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Will said as they arrived at the turnstile.

  ‘Emmet does what he does. He’s like the bullet. If you fire him, he’ll kill, maim, injure. He went overboard, sure. He should never have cut the girl, but he’s not the gun. He’s not even the guy who’s firing the gun. That’s the guy who hired us. That’s the guy you’re right to go after.’ Gregory held Will by the arm. ‘As soon as I’ve pointed him out, our business here is d
one.’

  ‘I’ll call my friend and tell him to let Emmet go.’

  ‘Best he doesn’t, eh? Best he just leaves and I’ll let Jared go when I get back.’

  Even though he’d taken a double dose of codeine, pain ratcheted up along Will’s spine with each step, while every breath scraped against his ribs. He hoped they were only bruised, his muscles only damaged.

  Will took out his phone and texted Teresa while Gregory scanned the tiered seating. She arrived not long after, carrying a champagne flute in one hand and a clutch in the other. She wore a short black dress with long sleeves and a white fedora that matched her heels and the bag. She brandished two tickets at the gate and waved them in.

  ‘Will.’ She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Teresa, this is, ah —’

  ‘Tom,’ Gregory said, looking around the long stretch of crowded bleachers ahead of him. ‘Any chance you could narrow this down?’

  Will nodded.

  ‘Have you seen any cops or lawyers around today?’ he asked Teresa.

  ‘Dozens. Care to be more specific?’

  ‘What about Michael Eldon?’

  ‘Sure. I saw him on the other side of the owners’ box.’

  Gregory started weaving his way through the crowd towards the white panelled pen that further separated race royalty from the wealthy throng.

  ‘What the hell is going on, Will?’ Teresa whispered, as she walked alongside him. ‘I had to pull some serious strings to get you in here. Who the hell is this guy? I thought I was getting tickets for you and Miller.’

  Will watched Gregory out of the corner of his eye.

  ‘I can tell you, but it might compromise you professionally down the track.’

  ‘Jesus. You don’t think I’ve done that to myself already? We might not know one another that well, but I think you know you can trust me by now. Is this the big secret?’

  Now in the members’ stand, the racegoers adhered to century-old dress regulations intended to encourage decorum. Even so the atmosphere was brash and raucous.

  Will turned to Teresa.

  ‘I’m looking for the guy who hired those men to attack Eva and me.’