Teschmaker didn’t feel comfortable leaving Laverov but Shlyapnikov’s reasoning was sound and he could think of no alternative. He knelt beside the man’s body and reaching into his jacket pocket took out his cigarette case. ‘I’m sure you would want me to have it,’ he said quietly, then got to his feet and rejoined the others.
There was one other matter worrying him. As they walked towards the car he murmured his concern to Shlyapnikov. ‘What about the bomb?’
The Russian looked at him for a moment then smiled. ‘What bomb? And even if there was one, there is no way of detonating it now the remote has been destroyed. Or do you really want to come back here and dig up more of the past?’
Teschmaker shook his head slowly and opened the car door for his friend. ‘Come on, we’ll get you to a hospital.’
‘After we get a drink.’ Shlyapnikov grimaced as he lowered himself gingerly into the car seat.
They drove out of the cemetery in silence. On the main road the traffic was light, but Teschmaker kept his speed down. He tried to imagine explaining the shattered passenger-side window to a traffic cop and decided avoidance was a preferable tactic. He felt light-headed, euphoric. We’re all in shock, he thought. He glanced in the rear-vision mirror at Jane and her father they were immersed in their own thoughts: Jane staring out the window; her father with his head in his hands, trembling. Beside him Shlyapnikov was attending his cuts and scratches with a now stained handkerchief. Most of the wounds appeared superficial but a deep gash on his temple particularly concerned Teschmaker. The old man had managed to staunch the bleeding but it looked as though it required several stitches.
They were five kilometres from Freeholm when they saw the police car coming towards them, its flashing lights and siren leaving them in no doubt as to its destination.
‘I think we should avoid the hospital,’ Shlyapnikov said. ‘It will be the first place they check once they see the mayhem out there.’ He registered the sceptical look Teschmaker shot at him and ignored it. ‘Never felt better. Anyway, it will give Zoya something to worry about. Get her out of the kitchen.’
‘You need a doctor,’ Teschmaker said.
‘I need a vodka. Damn doctors would take one look at us and ring the police.’
A couple of kilometres later a second police car flashed past them, closely followed by an ambulance. Jane leaned forward and tapped Teschmaker on the arm.
‘The gun. What shall we do with the gun?’
‘We’ll have to get rid of it,’ he replied.
Shlyapnikov reached down and retrieved the pistol from the floor where she had dropped it. He examined the chamber, quickly removed the magazine and tossed the unspent rounds through the hole in the side window. ‘Stop at the next bridge,’ he said and proceeded to wipe the gun with his handkerchief.
‘I didn’t know what I was doing.’ Jane gripped Teschmaker’s shoulder. ‘I didn’t even know if it was loaded. There was nothing else I could do, was there? I was just going to point it at him . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she dissolved into sobs.
Her father pulled her gently back into his arms. ‘What you did saved us, Jane. It’s all over now and soon you’ll be home with Melanie.’
Teschmaker had forgotten all about Jane’s daughter. ‘You got Mel back?’
‘Oh God, I forgot. You don’t know what happened.’ Regaining her composure Jane told Teschmaker what had occurred earlier.
‘Gerard and Grice are dead?’
‘Yes. I don’t want to think about it, it was horrible.’
The euphoria their escape had produced in him evaporated. He didn’t care about Grice, but despite their initial encounter he had developed a liking for Sinclair’s standover man. ‘Edwards was a good man,’ he said quietly.
Teschmaker turned off the main road and pulled in beside a bridge crossing the Charlotte River. ‘I’ll get rid of the handkerchief too,’ he said and wrapped it around the pistol.
There was no light over the bridge but the faint plop from below told him that the gun was safely out of harm’s way.
‘Where’s Melanie now?’ he asked Jane as he got back in the car.
‘With a very relieved and repentant Oliver.’
‘Repentant? Does that mean you’re going to forgive him?’
‘No.’ Jane reached out and touched his hand. ‘No, there are some things you can’t forgive.’
‘What about the person who “screwed up your life from day one”?’ He was going to quote her phrase accurately but held himself back in front of her father.
There was no reply. Then he felt her hand move up and gently stroke the back of his neck. The message was easy to read; later.
They were nearly in town when Jane remembered that Norman and Viola were still trussed up — bound, gagged and locked in the apartment.
‘They’re probably enjoying it,’ Teschmaker quipped, but nobody seemed to get the joke. They rode the remainder of the journey in silence.
END NOTE
In October 1997, Dr Alexei Yablokov, a former science advisor to President Boris Yeltsin, testified before a subcommittee of the American National Security Committee about the claims made by General Lebed that only 48 of the 132 suitcase-sized nuclear weapons could be located. His main concern, however, was not for the ones which had been placed outside the former Soviet Union but for those within.
‘We’ve got about 100 organisations of a fascist nature. These fascist organisations have got many military who know where these bombs are located, who know how to use them. And if, inside the country, there’s a struggle for power and these fascists and nationalists get hold of these bombs — there is a small chance, but there is that chance, much smaller than Chechnya or Palestine — but if that happens, that will be terrible. That’s why I’m talking about this, that’s why tactical nuclear arms, these small nuclear bombs, ought to be destroyed as soon as possible.’*
As of October 2001 there were still a large number of portable nuclear devices missing from the ex-Soviet arsenal. According to Russian intelligence sources, there seems to be very little being done to locate them.
Sandy McCutcheon
Brisbane, October 2001
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SANDY McCUTCHEON was brought up in Christchurch, New Zealand, but since the early 1970s has lived mainly in Australia. He has worked in a variety of jobs, from sheet metal factory employee and swimming pool painter to actor and theatre director.
Although he is best known as being the host of ‘Australia Talks Back’ on ABC Radio National from 1991 to 2006, Sandy McCutcheon is also the author of more than twenty plays. He has travelled extensively in Africa, Asia and Europe as well as living in Finland and Austria. He has twice won awards at the New York Radio Festival for radio documentary making, and been awarded the International Kalevala Medal by the Finnish government for services to Finnish culture.
A practising Buddhist since 1976, he is a passionate campaigner for social justice and human rights and a strong supporter of Community Aid Abroad and Amnesty International, with a special interest in the issues of self-determination for Southern Sudan, East Timor and Tibet.
ALSO BY SANDY McCUTCHEON
IN WOLF’S CLOTHING
PEACE CRIMES
POISON TREE
SAFE HAVEN
THEHAHA MAN
COPYRIGHT
HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in Australia in 2001
This edition published in 2016
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
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Copyright © Sandy McCutcheon 2001
The right of Sandy McCutcheon to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any
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ISBN 978 0 7322 6455 0 (pbk).
ISBN 978 0 7304 9334 1 (ebook).
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
McCutcheon, Sandy.
Delicate indecencies.
1. Terrorists – Fiction. 2. Weapons – Fiction.
I. Title.
A823.3
* Testimony of Dr Alexei Yablokov, former science advisor to Boris Yeltsin, before the Research and Development Subcommittee of the House National Security Committee, chaired by Representative Curt Weldon, 2 October 1997.
Delicate Indecencies Page 42