by Bruce Cooke
“Why?” Creswick looked up from the list.
“Because she is overseas and has been for three months.”
“Then I guess she is out of the investigation.” Creswick gave it further thought. “Do you know where she lived?”
Greg hunched his shoulders. “Of course, but as I said, she’s not at home.”
“How close is Barret to her?”
“I guess they were close friends. Pipa often went out to dinner with her.”
“So she might have left keys to the place with Barret to babysit the flat.”
“I guess so,” said Greg slowly.
“Then that might be where they are hiding. Send some police there to check it out,” Creswick ordered.
“I doubt they are there but will do as you suggest.”
“I’m not suggesting it, you idiot, I’m telling you. Get to it.”
Greg gritted his teeth and left the office.
* * * *
Scott put down the phone and smiled at Pipa. “We have a booking for two o’clock today. Let’s clean this place up and make it look as though no one has been here.”
Pipa looked at the note he wrote with the details and threw it into the waste bin. “Right, let’s do it.”
Scott noted what she did. “Empty the garbage into the bin outside and leave something small in the waste bin.”
She screwed up a sheet of paper and did as he said.
Both went to work and cleaned the house like it was a brand-new place.
“What time do we go to the airport?” she asked once the cleaning was done.
“International flights need you to be there two hours before the plane leaves. We’ll go at eleven.”
“There will be police watching all exits.”
“I know, but I’m hoping our passports will hold up. We both look different. We just act as innocent passengers.”
“I’ll be glad to get away for a while. Always looking over my shoulder is not good.”
He laughed. “You think Afghanistan is a holiday place? It’s more dangerous than here.”
“That’s encouraging,” she said with a slight smile. Even though they are going through turmoil, he had a way of making her smile.
Later. Scott looked at his watch. “Time to go.”
They climbed into the car and headed for the airport.
* * * *
Greg organised ten police to make the raid. They left at twelve and headed straight for the address.
“Don’t break the door down unless we have to. We don’t want any more complaints.”
Some surrounded the house, slipping to the back, while Greg, holding his gun, knocked on the door. No answer, so he produced some small tools and proceeded to pick the lock. Once the door was opened, he nodded.
Four of the police rushed in, shouting, “Police!”
“It’s empty,” said one. “Looks as though no one has lived here.”
“Shit,” Greg said. “Dust for fingerprints everywhere you can.”
“That could take us a couple of hours,” said one, frowning.
“Just do it,” he retorted angrily.
They went to work, checking everything they could find.
“The place has been swept clean. Nothing.”
“Then that means they were here,” said Greg. “You would expect the prints of the owner to be found.” He glanced in the waste bin and saw a piece of paper. “Shit.”
“What?” one of the officers asked.
“Why would she put a blank sheet in the waste bin? Search the outside bin to see what you can find.”
The man came back with the paper she threw out and handed it to Greg.
“It’s a flight plan for Afghanistan. It left at two.”
“Then we missed them.”
Greg gritted his teeth. “Looks like it. Let’s go.”
When Creswick heard the news, he fumed. “Those bastards are one step ahead of us every time.”
“You think they have moved there for a particular reason? I couldn’t imagine Pipa living there permanently.” Greg took in his rage.
“Of course not. They have gone there to see what they can dig up on the money and its source. Shit, if they find proof then we’re all stuffed.”
“So all we can do is wait,” said Greg, now nervous.
“Like hell. A little trip to Afghanistan could solve the problem. It would be too bad if they were killed by the Taliban. It could work out to our advantage.”
Greg stared at him. “So you’re going to Afghanistan?”
“No, we are going to Afghanistan. Better go home and pack while I make the arrangements.”
Greg was stunned. He was expected to try to kill Pipa and Peters? This was never in his deal. “I can’t go and kill my old girlfriend. Imagine what the papers would do with that.”
“They won’t know, and you didn’t seem to have doubts when you got half a million from us.”
“But I’m in charge of the investigation. How do we explain that?”
“Easy. We put someone else in charge with the explanation we are investigating further information that has come to hand.”
Greg sighed. There was no way he could get out of this.
* * * *
Pipa looked out of the window as the plane made its descent. The land looked dry. Barren and inhospitable.
“This is Afghanistan?” she asked, frowning.
“I knew you would love it.” Scott laughed.
“So what do we do when we land?”
He got serious. “I have a few friends who I’m sure will help us.”
“Army?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Ex-Army. I left a lot of contacts here before I left.”
“Why the hell would they stay here if they left the Army?”
“They can see ways of making a few dollars. They have various ways, and I’m sure it will be more than the Army paid.”
Pipa sighed. “So what’s next?”
“We find a hotel and book in. Don’t do any shopping in the markets.”
“Why, is it because I don’t speak Arabic?”
“No. The Taliban have a habit of sending a suicide bomber to detonate a car bomb where people gather.”
She shook her head. “When is the next plane to fly home?”
He grinned. “I’ll do my best to keep you safe if you follow my advice.”
“I rarely take orders from a man, but I may make this an exception.”
Soon, they had booked into the Kabul Hilton. Pipa noted the armed guards standing outside with automatic rifles. She threw Scott a nervous glance as they came to the reception desk.
“How can I help you, sir?” asked the girl behind the desk.
Scott gave her a smile before he spoke. “I’d like to get a room for myself and my wife for a few days.”
“Of course, sir. Can I have your passports?”
Scott handed them over, and she inspected them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Carrington. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” he answered pleasantly.
She looked at her computer and handed him an electronic entry card to the rom. “Room 166, sir. It’s on the first floor.”
“Thank you.”
She waved to a man, who approached and gathered their luggage before leading them to the elevator. Once they reached the room, he opened the door and handed Scott the card. Scott tipped him, and he left. Pipa looked around the room.
“This is very nice. Not what I expected from a Kabul hotel.”
“It’s a Hilton. Always good.”
Pipa looked into the bedroom and noted the queen-sized bed. “The bed looks good, but where are you going to sleep?”
“Haven’t worked that out yet. I’m going to have a shower before we eat.”
She smirked at his words and began to unpack the small suitcase she brought.
Soon, he reappeared with a towel wrapped around him. “Shower is good. Your turn.”
“Does it have a lock on the door?
”
“Yeah. I made sure I was safe from any overtures you might have had about my body.”
She burst out laughing. “I like a man with a sense of humour.”
She slipped into the bathroom while he dressed. When she returned, dressed, she found Scott studying a sheet of paper in front of him.
“What’s that?” she asked, noting the concentration on his face.
“I made a note of my friends who might or might not still be here. We look after we eat.”
“Anyone in particular who might have the info on what we want to see?”
“Probably him,” he said, pointing to a name.
She looked at the name and nodded. “Bill Fraser.”
“Yeah, he left before me to take up a job as a security man but knows exactly what goes on in Kabul and the surrounding country. It’s part of his job.”
“Security with who?”
“One of the Government Ministers. He has to keep him safe, so he needs to know who the close enemies are.”
“Then let’s eat. I have a feeling it might be a long time between meals.”
He grinned again. “I said you would love this place.”
As they ate in the restaurant, Pipa spoke carefully. “Do you have an address for this person?”
“Only the address he gave when we corresponded late last year.”
“Still valid?”
“We will see,” he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin. “Okay, better get some sleep then change if we are going out tomorrow.”
“I’m tired, and I guess you are, too.” Pipa stretched her arm above her head as they entered their room again.
“Yeah. A good night’s sleep is what we need.”
“And where are you sleeping?”
“The couch looks comfortable.”
“Look, if you promise that nothing is going to happen then we can share the bed. No sense on sleeping on a couch when there is a huge bed to use.”
“You sure?” Scott asked.
“If I wasn’t then I would not have suggested it.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He stripped down to his shorts, and Pipa did the same with her nightgown. They cleaned their teeth and climbed into the bed. Both lay not sleeping, aware of the other person beside them. Pipa slipped her hand over and found his. He stared at her for long seconds, then began to get out of the bed.
“Where are you going?” she asked as he stood up.
“I don’t like breaking a promise.”
“Suppose I want you to.”
“Serious?”
“We’re both single, so if no one knows about it then I’m okay with it.”
He got back into bed and pulled her close. He found her lips, and there was no rejection.
His hand slipped to her breasts and found her nipples hard. She sat up and lifted her nightdress over her head then took him into her arms again.
“Never thought I would say this, but I’m actually looking forward to making love to a sadistic cold-blooded killer.”
“Shut up,” he said, smiling at her.
She sighed as his hands went to work all over her body. After a long time, he finally entered her, and she sighed with pleasure, responding to his thrusts.
“Oh, God,” she said softly, opening her legs even further.
They took it to its conclusion, and both lay back, exhausted. Scott stared into her eyes as she stroked his face.
“I could get to like you,” she said, kissing his lips gently.
“Likewise,” he said and smiled at her. “I think I might sleep soundly tonight.”
“Me, too.” She gave a little giggle and closed her eyes.
* * * *
Pipa wiped her brow thanks to the heat as she changed clothes. When she was ready, Scott shook his head. “What’s wrong now?”
“Shorts and a thin top make you look gorgeous, but you can’t wear that here. If they don’t throw you in jail, then they might stab you. Wear something that covers most of your skin. Pants will do and no see-through top. And wear a hat.”
She sighed. She had heard about women in these countries having to cover up, but she wasn’t a local. Better do as he said. “Give me a few minutes.” She returned and turned around for him to inspect her. “Satisfied?”
“I liked the shorts and top, but this is much better and safer.”
Chapter 13
Creswick and Greg arrived in an RAAF plane. It carried a few people and some gear for the troops. Once it had landed, they stepped out into the heat.
Creswick wiped his brow. “We go to some accommodation and get settled. Then we look for them.”
The accommodation was in the barracks of the Australian troops, and they had to share a room.
“What now?” asked Greg, not comfortable with this assignment.
“We see if they have arrived and where they went.”
“You mean customs and immigration?”
“Yes. They are very co-operative as they rely on us for support.”
Soon, they were in the customs office, looking at video of arrivals. No sign of their names, but that didn’t fool Creswick. He looked at every arrival, especially couples, until he saw them.
“Bring that up,” he said excitedly. “It’s them. What name are they traveling under?”
The man looked up the details. “Mr. and Mrs. Carrington from Sydney.”
“That’s bullshit. The plane came from Canberra.”
“They must have booked into a hotel somewhere,” said Greg, viewing the information.
“Yeah, let’s check them all out.”
Greg nodded and began to seek out all the hotels in Kabul. “Who will they be looking for?” he asked as he studied the list.
“I presume Peters has some old mates still living here who might help. Apart from that, I don’t know.”
Greg settled down and rang every hotel on the list. After an hour, he hit the jackpot.
“Hilton Hotel.”
“Good morning. I’m looking for some friends who have recently arrived here, but I don’t know which hotel they booked into. Can you help?”
“If I can, sir. Their names?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Carrington.”
“Yes, sir, they arrived yesterday evening. Shall I put you through to their room?”
“No. I want to surprise them. Which room are they in?”
“Room 166, sir.”
Thank you,” said Greg, looking at Creswick. “Got them.”
* * * *
“Let’s go and find Bill Fraser,” said Scott when he was satisfied they were ready.
Curious, Pipa asked. “You think he still lives at the same address?”
“If it’s cheap and comfortable then he will be.”
They stepped out of the room and came to the elevator. Scott pressed the button, and it took them to the ground floor. About to step out into the foyer, Scott grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?”
“That’s Creswick standing at the desk with another young guy with him. He looked familiar.”
“They found us?” Pipa was shocked they could do it so fast.
“They have all the facilities they need. I guess they’ve come to kill us.”
He pressed the up button to take them back to the first floor.
“What will we do?”
“Watch the elevator. When it moves, we go down the stairs. Don’t panic. They can’t just shoot us in the hotel.” When the light showed the elevator was coming up, he pulled her to the stairs, and they slowly descended.
“Do you know the other man, the young one?” Pipa asked.
“Not sure, but if he’s with Creswick, then he is another killer.”
They moved down the stairs and left the hotel. Scott stopped her when they were across the road but hidden.
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” Pipa was alarmed by his action.
“I want to see what he is going to do. When he fin
ds us missing, then he will leave.”
Ten minutes later, Creswick and Greg left the hotel.
“No,” said Pipa when she saw him.
“What?”
“That’s Greg with him. I can’t believe he has turned into a killer.”
“That’s your old lover? Hell, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m better off without him.”
“Okay, now we have to go back, check out, and get our luggage. Creswick will have the hotel watched, but it will take him at least an hour to arrange that.”
She looked at him with admiration. “How come all you do is run a garage?”
He grinned at her. “Just waiting for the right woman to come into my life.”
“In Mansfield? Good luck with that.”
“It’s only temporary. Once this is over, then things will be different. I’m moving to Canberra. I hear there are beautiful girls there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Let’s go back.”
They returned to the hotel and gathered their belongings. When Scott was at the desk, the receptionist smiled.
“Did you catch up with your friends?”
“Yes, thanks. It was nice to catch up.”
He paid the bill, and they left the hotel. Scott hailed a taxi and gave the driver instructions as to where they wanted to go. They stood outside a small house in a dusty street. People walked past. One a man who had two women walking behind him. Scott grinned at the expression on Pipa’s face.
“This is where he lives?” Pipa shook her head at the dingy little place.
“It’s comfortable inside. He doesn’t like to attract attention to himself.” He knocked on the door, which was answered quickly.
A tall, thick-set, bearded man stared at Scott. “Well, stuff me. Scott Peters. I thought you would be dead by now.”
“Not yet, but people are trying.”
“Yeah, I read where a stupid journalist said you were a cowardly ruthless killer who killed one of the clerics.”
“Yeah, I’m getting help now. This is the stupid journalist who wrote the article: Pipa Barret.”
“Oops. I gather she has changed her mind,” Bill said.