A branch snapped behind him. Drummond moved close into the tree and hugged the shadow. Soft footfalls were approaching from the southwest. Crouching low, he moved quickly to the second tree and waited. The intruder continued towards the first tree. Drummond moved again, taking a line that would intersect with the intruder. Three metres from the tree he sank to the ground like a rock. Slowly turning his head, Drummond watched the man creep forward, moving cautiously on his way back to the house. He would pass the tree Drummond was making for. Keeping the tree between him and the intruder, Drummond moved to its trunk and stopped. He eased slightly to one side and coughed quietly. The intruder froze then turned at snail pace. Unable to see either Drummond or the first man, he stared intently into the black pool of shadows. Then, bent low, he moved forwards, his right arm in front of him. Drummond pressed flat against the deep shaggy bark clutching a short thick branch. Two metres from Drummond the man saw the shadowy form of his companion tied to the tree. ‘Fuck!’ he exclaimed. ‘Dom, what happened?’ He stepped forward and bent towards his companion as Drummond clubbed him fiercely on the back of the head.
Now, thought Drummond, let’s find the last bastard. He fastened his second victim to the tree, gagged him, cable tied his wrists then retrieved the man’s firearm and stuck it in his jacket pocket. Removing his phone from a leg pocket, he dialled Maud as arranged.
Leaving the two men, Drummond took a wide loop to the eastern side of his house towards the oak copse. About five metres from the trees he removed his goggles and gave the same low whistle he had heard before. From the dark of the oaks, slightly to his right, a hoarse whisper responded, ‘Here.’ He padded towards it. ‘Where is this friggin’ prick?’
‘Dunno, let’s check the tractor shed,’ Drummond whispered tersely.
The third man crept towards Drummond who waited, head averted as though listening in the direction of the house. As the man reached his side, Drummond turned, nodded and, without warning, unleashed a mighty kick to the groin followed by a slicing forearm chop to the throat. His victim fell to the ground writhing in pain. Drummond dropped his knee into the man’s solar plexus and grinned savagely as air exploded from his lungs. In a trice, he was handcuffed with cable ties and gagged. He hauled the gasping man to his feet and dragged him across to the house where he was tied to a veranda post.
Returning to his previous captives he found one barely conscious, the other still out to it. He took the conscious man to the house, tied him to a post and went back for the last man. He was moaning and Drummond could feel blood seeping through his balaclava. Drummond pulled him roughly to his feet then marched him, unresisting, to the house and cabled him to yet another pole. Throughout his efforts, Drummond remained silent and did not remove his own balaclava. He settled back and waited.
About ten minutes later dimmed headlights turned into the driveway and travelled slowly towards the house. Drummond was relieved to see Tony Maud step from the Heathcote Divisional Van.
‘Andy, you’ve gotta stop this crazy activity. What have we this time?’
‘Got these three bastards creeping around the house; couple of them went inside looking for me but I was missing.’
‘Have you searched them yet?’
‘No, I just caught ‘em and tied ‘em up until you got here.’
‘Righto. Turn the veranda lights on so we can have a dekko.’
‘Sure. By the way, have you found a car anywhere near here?’
‘Yeah, halfway between your drive and Hunter’s Lane up there. Ian Patching and Ken Jones have gone to secure it. We’ll know more about that soon.’
Drummond went inside and switched the veranda lights on and returned.
‘Shit mate, I’ll have to take these buggers to hospital before I lock ‘em up. They’re all bleeding. What the hell did you belt them with?’ asked Maud tersely.
‘My steel balls. Silent and deadly.’ Drummond grinned wickedly. ‘But only one, the other two I just walloped.’
‘Yeah, well this geezer doesn’t look too flash. I hope it’s nothing serious.’
Drummond was not abashed and said with some venom, ‘Stuff them! They were after me, not the other way around.’
‘Yeah, well … I’m not too sure about that. I just want to make sure they live.’
‘The bastards will live alright Tony. The worst they might have is concussion and perhaps a cut scalp. One bloke might have sore nuts too, but I’m more interested in knowing what the pricks are armed with.’
‘Well, let’s have a look.’ Maud removed each man’s balaclava. One had a deep gash to a large egg which had risen from his forehead; slowly, it oozed blood. He looked badly concussed. Maud said nothing but began systematically to search all three. Two of the men were in their thirties, the third closer to his fifties. All were pale, shocked and in pain. With the exception of the man whose gun Drummond had already retrieved, they carried hand guns, two had knives and the older man carried a piano wire garrotte.
‘Interesting company you keep – how do you manage it?’ Maud gave Drummond a lopsided grin.
‘This’ll be Patch and Jonesy now.’ The station sedan pulled up beside the van. ‘They can take the two with the bad head and crook groin. I’ll take the other one. I don’t want these buggers talking to each other. We’ll go to the hospital first and then, perhaps, I’ll have a little chat with them. Same deal for you as last time: come and see me later this morning. Oh, one more thing: this is the last time. I mean it! From now on, until this is sorted, you sleep at our place.’
Drummond said nothing but went inside and returned with a pair of electrician’s pliers. One by one he snipped the cable ties from the veranda posts to leave the wrist ties in place. At 4:35 a.m. Maud and Patching drove away with their cargo.
Chapter
FIFTY- FOUR
Tension from constant vigilance and the action of the night had exhausted Drummond. Even before Maud reached his gate he had drunk a glass of water, locked the doors, stripped off his black suit and jumped into bed. The intruders had destroyed his warning systems but he was too tired to worry about it. As a precaution, he put his nunchukkas on the bedside table next to his mobile phone and turned out the light. In less than two minutes he was asleep. It was 4:40 a.m.
At five that morning, Teresa burst from her bed like a thunderbolt as her home erupted into a fireball. Three muffled explosions seemed to come from the front, the side where she parked her car and the back of her house. Within minutes the weatherboard cottage was ablaze. Smoke and flames swirled through the rooms with choking intensity; searing heat began to blister the paint and, above it all, the thunderous, crackling roar of fire. Pulling a bedspread over herself she crawled to the dining room and retrieved her laptop and mobile phone. In the bathroom she shut the door, pulled a tracksuit over her pyjamas, saturated a towel then opened the window. Flames were gyrating and roaring at either end of the house but, for the moment, she was safe. She climbed onto the basin, draped the wet towel around her head and shoulders, grasped the laptop and jumped to the ground.
Standing between the house and the side fence, she closed the window, clambered over the fence and snuck along the base of the neighbour’s house to their sub-floor door. Crawling under the house, she shut the door behind her. Sticky webs clutched her fingers as she felt for a light switch. Good, she thought, there if needed, as she found one above the door. She called Drummond and waited: his phone rang without answer. She punched in Maud’s number and again, got no response. Overhead her excited neighbours were shouting and running through their house; she could hear Anna, the wife, talking to the fire brigade.
The fire had been well planned and Teresa had no illusion of it being anything other than attempted murder. She began to shake, every nerve ending jangling with the knowledge she had just escaped incineration. In that heightened state came unexpected illumination: here was an opportunity for escape. With the house razed, people just might believe she had perished. Her goal now was to remain hidd
en until she could speak to Drummond or Tony. She hoped no one would think to look for her under the neighbour’s house. Apart from a small amount of smoke inhalation, she was in good shape but without money, shoes or clothes – apart from what she wore. She did, however, have the all important laptop with its priceless information.
Once more she dialled Drummond but got no response: it was 5:20 a.m. She hoped he was asleep.
Drummond stirred; was that the phone? Bleary eyed, he reached for it … and froze. A black figure slipped past his bedroom windows as he rolled over. Snapped awake he thought – there must have been four of the bastards! He rolled out of bed grabbing his nunchukkas. He might only have a minute, perhaps less. He arranged his pillows and doona to resemble a body in bed and wormed into the hall where he crouched just outside the door. Having locked all doors he would hear anyone breaking into the house.
Suddenly, his bedroom windows exploded under the impact of three silenced shots. Drummond felt the fierce surge of adrenalin followed by a metallic taste in his mouth. He waited. The sliding door was smashed open; someone had entered the room. Silence, then a muffled curse when the bed was found empty. Barely audible footsteps approached the hallway where he waited. They stopped, just inside the bedroom. Silence. Faintly laboured breathing reached Drummond’s ears. He gripped the nunchukkas at one end to form a skewer. The hall nightlight glowed dimly. Drummond was a monstrous, misshapen shadow, the bedroom door, a yawning black chasm. He controlled his breathing, quietened his heart rate and focussed on the doorway. The assassin moved forward. His arm and weapon entered the hall as he drew level with the jamb. With the silence of an owl and speed of a striking snake, Drummond burst upwards and drove the nunchukkas deep into his attacker’s groin. There was an agonised scream and sound of a shot thudding into the ceiling followed by a deafening hush … and then, the low, whimpering cry of someone in deep pain.
Drummond removed the firearm, fetched some cable ties from the kitchen and bound the intruder hand and foot. Drummond cared little for the man’s condition. Collecting his phone to ring Maud he saw two missed calls. To his concern, both were from Teresa – at 5:05 a.m. and 5:20 a.m. He moved away from his prisoner and rang using their code.
‘Andy,’ Teresa’s voice was hoarse and strange.
‘Yes, are you alright?’
‘No.’ Her strangled reply was accompanied by muffled shouts and machinery noises.
‘What’s going on?’ Drummond was gripped with fear. ‘What’s happened?’ He moved back to the kitchen so the intruder could not hear their conversation.
‘I think I’ve been firebombed. Somebody’s tried to kill me and my home is going up in flames.’ She wept quietly. Over the phone Andy heard the faint sound of sirens and further shouting.
‘Teresa, where are you?’ His voice was strained and urgent.
‘Hiding under my neighbour’s house.’
‘Are you hurt? Are you okay?’
Hearing his concern, Teresa controlled herself and said, ‘Yes, truly I am okay. I am upset about the house. I got out the bathroom window before the fire reached that side. I feel so much better after hearing you. What’s that noise?’ The intruder had begun to moan pitifully in the background.
‘I had an uninvited guest. I was about to ring Tony when I saw your missed calls. I’m sorry I’ll tell you about it later. What do you want to do now?’
‘Tell Tony what’s happened. Now you know where I am I feel quite safe. And look, we can use the fire to our advantage, everyone will think I’ve burned to death so it’s the perfect opportunity to escape Giuseppe. I can stay here without being discovered even though lots of people will be around. I’ve got the phone on silent, just ring every now and then. We can think of a plan to get me out later. One thing – I’ve got no clothes other than a track suit and the pyjamas I’m in. Could you get Mary to organise a few things for me? She’ll know what I need. I’ve got the computer and the data is safe. Call me again when you can. I have a feeling we are going to be okay.’
Drummond could sense the anguish beneath her words. ‘You might just be right. Now listen, call me when you need to. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ve got to go now – this bloke here is hurt and Tony needs to know about him as well as what’s happened to you. I’ll call when I can. I love you Teresa.’
‘I love you too.’
At six o’clock, Drummond rang the police station. Maud answered. ‘Andy – everything alright?’
‘Not really. After you’d all gone, a fourth bastard came. Very clever. He’s all trussed up ready to collect but … I’m sorry mate, he’s hurt.’
‘Jesus Christ! What happened?’ Maud sounded both exasperated and concerned.
‘Teresa rang – her call saved my life. She said she tried you as well.’
‘Bugger! I completely forgot the mobile, it’s in the van. Sorry mate. Is there a problem?’
‘Her house was firebombed and is probably burnt to the ground by now.’
‘Jesus H Christ! Is she hurt?’
‘No, but let’s talk about this when I see you, not on the phone. I want to get down to her as soon as I can.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll send someone out to you. Come in as soon as my fella arrives. Your joint is a crime scene and we still need to think about court later. Now, go back a step – what about this fourth bloke? I’m afraid to ask: what’s wrong with him?’
Drummond drew a deep breath knowing his friend would not be happy with his reply. ‘I speared him in the orchestra stalls with my nunchukkas. He’s not good.’
‘Ouch. Is he conscious?’
‘Barely,’ grunted Drummond.’
‘I’ll play safe and send an ambulance’ responded Maud. ‘It doesn’t sound pretty.’
‘Tony, I have to get down to Teresa now.’
‘Sorry mate, you’ll have to wait. These blokes have committed some pretty heavy crimes against you and unfortunately, they’ve come off second best. You’ll have to come in here and at least give me a bloody good outline before you nick off.’
‘Fuck that Tony I need to go now.’
‘You heard what I said!’ Maud’s tone was cutting. ‘I promise to be as quick as I can, but you’ve got to give me enough to work with. This is not the bloody movies mate and this is my patch. I understand your hurry but we’re going to be doing it right.’
At 7:30, the two men took a break and went to the police residence. Anxious to be on his way, Drummond outlined events to Mary and relayed Teresa’s request. In her practical manner she said, ‘Leave it with me Lover Boy. When Tony’s finished, come back and see me – everything will be ready.’ While Maud rang his Superintendent and briefed him on events, including the firebombing, Drummond held a hurried conversation with Teresa. At his suggestion, Maud asked his boss if they could use the fire to immediately slide Teresa into protection while keeping her escape off the radar. The idea would be referred upwards.
By nine o’clock Drummond was free of the paperwork. Tony had taken a detailed statement and painstakingly canvassed his friend’s justification for injuring all four men. Although the degree of force seemed appropriate for the circumstances, he well knew that once Drummond was in the witness box, weeks, months or even years after the event, clever lawyers would strive to make those injuries appear anything but justified. And they weren’t exactly minor: the fourth man would lose a testicle, the man struck by the steel bearing was badly concussed, the one who’d been clubbed had a head full of stitches and the final victim had cracked a rib. Drummond was unscathed.
When Drummond returned to Mary everything was set to go. ‘You’re a brick mate,’ he whispered, ‘thanks.’
‘It’s okay Andy. If you buggers survive all this, I think we’ll love Teresa as much as we loved Susan. So, stay on the ball.’
For Drummond, the compliment was enormous and, after a hug, he scooted out the door. Before driving off, he phoned Teresa again.
‘Hi Drummond, are you on your way?’ she answered quietly<
br />
‘Just about to leave now. How are you?’
‘Cold, scared, hungry. I heard someone say he was not surprised there was nothing left. The house was old, dry and weatherboard. I know it wasn’t grand, but it was mine.’
He heard her pain and said simply ‘I understand. Listen, if all goes well I should be there in about two and a half hours. I’ll call when I’m close. Okay?’
‘Just be careful.’
Chapter
FIFTY- FIVE
The Premier’s Secretary, Celia Barraclough, called Aldrittson on his direct line interrupting the wild thoughts somersaulting through his head.
‘Mr Aldrittson,’ she boomed, ‘the Premier would like to see you in five minutes. Please put any other engagements on hold.’
Feeling shitty, Aldrittson said tersely, ‘I’ll be on a plane to Sydney, Celia, I was just walking out the door when you rang.’
‘Then I suggest you catch a later flight,’ she snapped and hung up.
Aldrittson put his head in his hands. What next? The cause of his angst was an item on the one o’clock ABC News. He had listened with growing astonishment, then dread, to the story of a house fire at 16 Rose Street Burnley. Neighbours had reported hearing explosions and police were treating the blaze as suspicious. The punch line was crushing: the owner, believed to be at home when the fire started, was missing and the house had burned to the ground.
That idiot Chernamenko! He wondered what friggin’ part of no Chernamenko had not understood. He had made his change of mind very clear: Teresa was to live. He had even paid the outrageous demand so that she would live. He felt ill. He couldn’t afford any blowback from this – he had to remove that ugly bastard Chernamenko. He wouldn’t use Johnson though, he was suffering an outbreak of scruples. He would have to find a different team.
Too many things on his mind! Even he could feel he was losing it. His father wasn’t improving and his mother had become a whinging bloody nuisance. Judd at least was doing alright at the Depot and Jack’s new security measures had gone well too. Yeah … good choice Dad, he thought, Santini had trained Judd well. Santini. Christ, that was a lifetime ago. He rose and stomped down to the Premier’s office.
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