by Jean Harrod
Dalton catapulted through the revolving door, interrupting his thoughts. “I’ve got Susan Chambers’ address,” he said, waving a piece of paper. “The guys went round earlier to tell her about her sister. She took the news badly, as you would expect. Then she acted weird; she pushed them out of the house, sayin’ she didn’t want any help. Now, she’s not answerin’ the door, or the phone.”
Sangster frowned as he closed his car door. “The DC’s just told me two Federal Agents are on their way from Canberra. They won’t get here until 4pm, so I can carry on here for another couple of hours.”
“Good, because we’ve just made an appointment for you to see the British Consul. He should be here around 2pm.”
“Not more Canberra folk.” Sangster sighed and looked at his watch. “Okay, but I must talk to Susan Chambers. Have you tried the Brisbane Echo where she works?”
“Yes, but they haven’t seen her.”
“Find her, Dave,” Sangster turned to go back into the hotel, “while I have another word with Danny Burton, the lad who found Ellen Chambers’ body.”
“What do you make of him, Boss?” Dalton asked, quickly. “Bit of a hoon, if you ask me. He says Ellen Chambers gave him the come-on.”
Sangster nodded. “He’s been hanging about the crime scene all morning, trying to be helpful. Even when he was supposed to be mowing the lawn, he was watching us. Convenient that he found the body, wasn’t it?”
“Perhaps he knew just where to look?” Dalton warmed to this train of thought. “Perhaps he followed Ellen Chambers down to the jetty and tried it on with some force. She fought back, and things got out of hand.”
Sangster looked thoughtful. “The barman said he saw someone walking behind Ellen Chambers on the path down to the jetty just before she was killed. It couldn’t have been Danny, he was still in the bar at that point.” Sangster pushed the revolving door.
Dalton shuffled through behind him.
“But that doesn’t mean Danny didn’t go down to the jetty, in the hope of getting some action.” Sangster turned to face Dalton. “He did leave the bar soon after her. Even if he didn’t kill her, he might have seen something.”
“Yeah.” Dalton hesitated. “Look, about earlier, Boss. I’ve booked some counsellin’ … to fix my problem. I want to stay on the murder team, more than anythin’.” He sighed. “I just wish I could deal with it as easily as you do.”
Sangster knew he had a reputation for being tough and remote amongst the guys. They were of the old school of policing; and let off steam with the help of the plentiful, local rum. But did they all think he found it easy because he didn’t join in? Irritated, he looked at Dalton, but he didn’t let fly. He knew Dalton had his work cut out at home: a wife with chronic fatigue and a couple of young kids to look after. But there was no point beating about the bush either; he wouldn’t carry passengers on his team. “You’ve got another couple of months to deal with it, Dave. Then that’s it.”
Dalton nodded, glumly.
Sangster checked his watch. “It’s manic back at HQ. The DC’s just rung to say he’s cancelled all leave and called everyone in.”
Dalton gave a wry smile. “That’ll upset Roberts. He’ll have to give up his fishin’ trip.”
“Roberts?”
“DC Roberts. He was here, earlier.”
Sangster frowned. “Do I know him?”
“Course you do. He’s that bald, exercise nut. You know him, always in the gym. Transferred here from Melbourne about a year ago.”
Sangster raised an eyebrow. “What was he doing here?”
“He said he had a few days’ leave and was goin’ out on a fishin’ trip.” Dalton frowned. “Except, thinkin’ about it now, he wasn’t dressed for fishin’. He was wearin’ smart black trousers and a shirt.”
“Was he now?” Sangster never could leave a loose end. “Better check he is on leave, Dave. Discreetly mind. Don’t go treading on any toes.”
8
Jess winced as the edge of the paper sliced into her thumb and a drop of blood oozed out. Wrapping a tissue around the cut, she glanced out of the window at the sound of the plane’s engines revving up. In no time, airport buildings were flashing by as they accelerated along the runway and soared into the blue sky, rising south over Canberra. Sunlight sparkled on Lake Burley Griffin below, its central water spout pulsing jets of water high into the sky. Banking right, the plane swooped over the Federal Parliament’s 75 metre high flagpole and completed its circle to head north over the business district and snow-capped Mount Ainslie.
Finally, she was on course for Brisbane.
Her mind turned back to the job. She wished she’d been able to smooth things over with Simon. But when she’d eventually found the private dining room in Parliament, he’d already gone. Of course she’d had a look at the place cards around the table. Simon had lined up exactly the right interlocutors for the Foreign Secretary: the Australian Foreign Minister; the Head of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade Paul Robinson; and the Heads of all the Security Agencies, which included ASIO and ASIS – the Australian equivalents of MI5 and MI6. Then, she’d just laid a copy of the agenda at each place setting and left.
“Newspaper, Ma’am?”
Jess smiled and selected a copy of the Brisbane Echo from the air hostess’s tray. She didn’t expect to see anything about the Ellen Chambers murder; her body wouldn’t have been found until after the daily papers had been printed.
But a business headline caught her eye.
WESTERN ENERGY ATTRACTS OVERSEAS
INVESTORS TO THEIR BRISBANE CONFERENCE
She scanned the article. The Conference was all about broadening the exposure of Australia’s metal and mining opportunities to international investors, particularly from the USA and Asia. When she saw it was due to start that morning at the Brisbane Convention Centre, she knew why Ellen Chambers had come to Brisbane.
She turned as someone slipped into the empty seat next to her, “Do you like sneaking up on people?” she asked the Australian Foreign Affairs’ China expert.
Derek Marshall’s sharp eyes twinkled. “Only on beautiful women.”
She had to laugh. Like Simon, Derek loved a joke. The pair of them were friends, sparking off each other and talking sport endlessly.
“Off to Brisbane, then?” Derek pushed his tousled grey hair off his forehead.
“That obvious, is it?”
Derek smiled and fidgeted in his seat. He was a restless soul, brimming with intelligence and energy. Being stuck in a plane seat for a couple of hours would be torture for him. “Is your trip connected to the Ellen Chambers’ murder?” he asked. “She was British, wasn’t she?”
Jess nodded, thinking as a Government expert on China, Derek would know all about the LNG deal, and the murder. “Did you know her?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’d met her a couple of times at meetings and receptions, but I wouldn’t say I knew her.”
“What was she like?”
“Attractive.” Derek gave a rueful smile. “Sharp and capable. And a key member of Western Energy’s LNG negotiating team. She had a great rapport with the Chinese.” He peered over the seat in front. “They’re up the front... the Chinese LNG team... in business class. The Chairman of Western Energy invited them to attend his Company Conference.”
Jess tapped the newspaper. “I’ve just been reading about that. Is that why Ellen Chambers was in Brisbane?”
He nodded.
“So what are you doing with the Chinese, Derek? Are you their minder?”
“You could say that.”
She smiled. “So what’s happening with this LNG deal? I’d heard negotiations had stalled.”
He leaned in closer. “There’s big money involved. Important revenues for the Australian economy. Careers have been staked on it.”
Jess got the picture. “And your PM will want to go to the Federal election with this deal sewn up. It’ll earn big bucks for him to spend on the country.” Sh
e paused. “So what’s the problem? Why have negotiations stalled?”
“Oh, you know...”
She shook her head.
“The Chinese want control of the operation.” He lowered his voice. “A 55 per cent stake in the joint venture with Western Energy. They’re refusing to sign the binding agreement to accept the LNG until they get it.”
“Oh, that’s just brinkmanship.” Jess knew from experience the Chinese were hard negotiators. They knew exactly what they wanted, and would play a waiting game for as long as it took to get it. They had no deadlines to worry about; and no internal pressure from the Chinese public or media for quick results.
“The trouble is,” said Derek. “Our pollies need this deal before the Federal election campaign starts in November. They’ll want to factor in the revenues it will bring. But they can’t give too much control to the Chinese; there’s a lot of worry out in the electorate about the Chinese buying up the country and its resources.”
“Can the impasse be resolved?”
He shrugged. “Western Energy say they’re close to a breakthrough. If their Chairman can pull it off, the PM will be very grateful.” He hesitated. “That should give John Langhurst’s political aspirations a boost.”
“He wants to go into politics, does he?”
“So they say.”
“He’ll be a shoe-in, being married to the daughter of a former Australian Prime Minister.” She paused. “Tell me Derek, do the police have any idea who killed Ellen Chambers? Or why?”
He looked wary now. “I was hoping you might tell me. After all, we got that intelligence report from London.”
Intelligence report?
“And the information in it did come from your Embassy in Beijing,” Derek continued. “Of course after they got that report, our Federal Police had no option but to start an investigation. They’ve had Ellen Chambers under surveillance since she arrived back from China.”
“She was under surveillance when she was murdered?” Jess tried to keep the surprise out of her voice.
Derek nodded. “Along with Chen Xiamen, the head of the Chinese delegation.” He looked at her, sharply. “Didn’t you know? The Head of our SIS briefed your Deputy High Commissioner about it last Friday.”
Jess felt herself stiffen. So why hadn’t Nigel told her?
“And if the corruption rumours are true,” Derek went on, “it would blow this gas deal out of the water. And if any Australians are involved, the shit will well and truly hit the fan. The real worry is it could have dire consequences for our relationship with the Chinese. So we don’t want the Chinese getting wind of the police investigation until we know more... But this Ellen Chambers’ murder has really rattled everyone.” He peered over the seat again. “I’d better get back, or the Chinese will be wondering where I am.” But he didn’t get up straightaway. Instead, he turned and looked her in the eye. “Be careful, Jess. There are some powerful interests involved in this LNG deal. Things are turning really... murky.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Watch your back in Brisbane!” Then Derek was up and walking back to his seat before she could say anything else.
Jess’s brain was in overdrive as she watched him go. Was that a warning? It certainly sounded like one. She frowned. Why hadn’t Nigel told her Ellen Chambers was under surveillance for corruption? And why hadn’t he shown her that intelligence report from the British Embassy in Beijing? Of course she needed to know what was in it. Her stomach turned…
Why hadn’t Simon told her about it? He must have seen that report. As Political Officer, he saw everything. Didn’t he trust her? That thought played on her mind all the way to Brisbane. And the more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became. But, by the time the pitch of the jet engines changed and the plane started its descent, she’d become more sanguine. There was obviously a lot going on she didn’t know about. What was it Derek had said? Things are turning really murky. So murky, it seemed, that her colleagues had sent her off on a consular case in the dark? Well, the first thing she needed to do was find out what those corruption allegations were all about. But she’d have to tread carefully, and rely on her own instincts. Wasn’t she used to that?
She folded up the newspaper and slipped it into the front seat pocket. Out of the window, the green gardens and swimming pools of Brisbane’s modern, suburban houses came into view. Up ahead, city skyscrapers loomed.
As she started putting her papers away, a sobering thought popped into her head. A day or two ago, Ellen Chambers would have been sitting on a plane, preparing to land. Now she was dead, brutally murdered.
Derek’s words rang in her ears. Watch your back in Brisbane!
*
On the ground, Jess walked into the cavernous domestic terminal and switched on her mobile to get her messages. Putting the phone to her ear, a loud static noise made her jump, then she heard a faint click on the line. Frowning, she slipped the phone into her jacket pocket and set off for the exit.
As she passed the luggage belt, a group of Chinese men in Western suits caught her eye as they chatted and jostled each other for a spot to haul off their luggage. They had to be the Chinese Delegation. She looked around. Derek Marshall was nowhere to be seen, but striding towards them now was the unmistakable figure of Australian Federal Minister Anthony Harris. Unmistakable, because he stood head and shoulders above any of them, and cut a striking figure in his dark suit, and with his shock of blond hair flopping across his forehead. People stared as if he looked familiar, but they couldn’t quite place him.
Harris greeted the Chinese warmly, as if he knew them well. That didn’t surprise Jess. He was the Minister responsible for the mining sector in Australia. She would expect him to be doing whatever he could to help Western Energy secure the LNG deal, even if the Government were publicly saying they weren’t involved in the commercial negotiation.
Jess knew and liked Harris. He was a regular guest at the High Commissioner’s lunches and dinners. She often sat next to him, and found him down to earth and easy to talk to. But today she was in a hurry and didn’t want to get held up. Seeing Harris get into conversation with one of the Chinese, she turned to leave...
Too late.
Harris caught her eye and beckoned.
She had no option but to go over. Getting closer, she noticed how grey and drawn he looked; his crumpled suit gave her the impression he’d been up all night. By contrast, the Chinese man looked relaxed.
“Hello, Jessica.”
“Morning, Minister.” She looked at her watch. “Or is it afternoon? Australian time zones always confuse me.”
“It’s 12 noon,” he said, distractedly, before turning sideways to the man standing next to him. “Can I introduce you to Chen Xiamen, Chairman of China’s National Energy Corporation?”
Chen? So this was the man under surveillance with Ellen Chambers, she thought, as she held out her hand. “Jessica Turner, British Consul.”
At first, Chen reacted like most Chinese by inclining his head and avoiding eye contact. But then he surprised her. Shaking her hand with a firm grip, his eyes bore into hers as if trying to read her thoughts. Jess met his glance coolly. His skin felt soft, and his manicured nails caught her eye, along with the expensive Rolex on his wrist. He was obviously well-heeled. She couldn’t tell his age, but looking at the fine wisps of grey hair above his ears, she guessed he must be in his 60s.
Chen gave her a broad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Harris intervened. “Are you here about Ellen Chambers, Jessica?” His breath seemed to catch in his throat.
She nodded. “Terrible, isn’t it?”
Chen tried a tragic smile this time, but it seemed contrived. Not only did he seem cold and distant, she got the impression he didn’t want her around. And that was fine with her. “Well, you must excuse me,” she said to Harris. “I have to go.” She turned. “Enjoy your visit, Mr Chen. Goodbye.” She started walking towards the exit and had almost got awa
y when she heard Harris call out her name. She stopped to wait for him to catch up.
“Sorry, Jess, but can you tell me what the police are saying… about Ellen Chambers, I mean?” Harris coughed. “Sorry, bit of a sore throat.”
Glancing over his shoulder, she could see Chen talking on his mobile. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything more than the media have reported,” she said to Harris. “You will know the police believe she was murdered?”
Harris nodded. “What time do they think it happened?”
“Between 8pm and midnight last night. But I’m only telling you what I’ve heard second hand.”
He pressed on with his questions. “Do they know who killed her?”
She shook her head. “I hope to find out more when I see the police later.”
He dug his hand into his breast pocket and pulled out a business card. “Could you ring me on my mobile when you’ve spoken to them?”
She looked at him. Why would an Australian Minister ask her to report what the police had to say? “Of course.” She took the card politely. But as she turned and walked away, she could hear Nigel’s words ringing in her ears. “Do everything by the book, Jessicaah!” And she was quite sure a personal call from her to an Australian Federal Minister would not be in Nigel’s book.
*
Stepping outside the terminal into warm Queensland sunshine, Jess held her face skywards, like an exotic flower opening to the sun. Lovely! Her mobile rang. She fished it out of her jacket pocket, but it stopped before she could answer. She looked at the caller ID. Blocked. That had to be Susan Chambers again, she thought.