DFAT and the AFP have drummed into us that we’re to tell no one what’s going on, to trust no one, as information could get back to the kidnappers. It’s so hard not to ease our friends’ minds and it’s unreasonable of us not to. Stuff it, I think, these are Nigel’s friends. So when people ask me how bad it is, I let them know.
‘What can we do to help?’
I tell everyone we need money to pay for AKE. On top of the ransom amount it’s going to cost us seventy grand a month – paid in fortnightly increments. It’s a lot of money but I have faith in John Chase. When I tally up how much money we suspect the Australian government has sunk into this with no result – negotiators in Moore Park, the Major Incident Room in Brisbane and another in Canberra, along with an entirely separate post in Nairobi – John Chase actually looks pretty cost-effective. They must have thrown hundreds of thousands of taxpayers’ dollars at this, all in an attempt to ‘wear the kidnappers down’. And an unsuccessful attempt at that.
Nigel and Ham’s friends brainstorm fundraising ideas that night. The T-shirt concept resurfaces. We eventually decide that we’ll print ‘BLACK DOG’ on the front. Below it will be ‘N.B.’ and a stencil outline of a little chihuahua, which we love because it’d so offend Nige’s sensibilities; he’d be expecting a blue heeler. On the back we settle on: ‘HE OWES ME MONEY FOR THIS’. Underneath that will be a blank space in which each person can write the amount Nige owes them. I didn’t think ‘a house’ could be bettered till someone suggests ‘a BJ’. Someone else thinks we should go with stubble holders: ‘I knew the black dog before he was famous’. It should probably read ‘infamous’.
Sunday, 2 August
Resplendent with hangovers and bugger-all sleep, the entire family gets together for a debrief on the Canada trip.
Kel and I are feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. We went to see once and for all if the RCMP could do anything more than the Australian government with the increased amount of money we have on the table. Kel and I established that its hands were as tied as the AFP’s – no surprise to us, and at least now we had an answer. We were finally able to get the Canadian family to come to the party: they’d agreed to forming a joint CMT using a private company to facilitate the rescue. So it is a complete shock to me when Mum falls to pieces in front of us.
I am broadsided, bewildered, and I don’t know how to handle the situation. I go for the ride-out-the-storm option. Mum is sobbing into her hands; Dad is unable to console her. They are united on getting Nigel home, but their relationship is anything but at the moment. Mum wants immediate responses from me to a raft of questions.
‘When will this happen by?
‘When will we get Nigel home?
‘When will the Lindhouts pay for some of this? Why are they not paying for Amanda? How dare they think that this is Nigel’s family’s responsibility to have to get their daughter out?
‘How long do we have to pay John Chase?’
While Mum is over-emotional, these are all valid questions – ones for which I don’t have reasonable answers. I am knocked down a few pegs. Here I was thinking we had done so well.
Kel and I go over the replies as best we can.
‘The reality is that Jon and Lorinda have no money. Jon and his partner, Perry, are sick and are both on medical benefits, unable to work, and have to focus pretty hard on keeping themselves well.
‘Lorinda really didn’t think they would have to pay a ransom – slightly naive of her, of course. All our research had led us to the conclusion that this was nonsense long ago but they just heard what they wanted to hear. We had to show hard evidence in order to convince her she was mistaken, and that is what we did in Canada.
‘They have said they will start trying to raise ransom money. What more can we do?’
We show the family the kidnapping chart describing the typical nine-week time line and tell them how the Fungs’ case followed it exactly. I realise it all looks a bit slick and boardroom-ish.
‘We don’t have the money to pay for that nine weeks; we’ll start eating into the ransom money. That will reduce it by $150K straight up,’ says Mum, sharp as a tack even when distressed. God, that is so like her.
‘I know, Mum. We’re just going to have to somehow put together the money; it’ll mean public fundraising.’
As things are cooling down and the family debrief is coming to an end, Ange rings me. She and Dennis have been looking after the kids this weekend so both Si and I could go to Ham’s party. Ange tells me Atticus has broken his arm at Rep Soccer at Gympie. Terrific.
Later on in the day Kel and I have our first CMT meeting via Skype. Ham’s place is in a telecommunications hole and we keep falling in. Our hefty phone bills, a result of ringing Canberra, and family members to keep them in the loop, are already hurting. The Skype call is essentially free. I shudder at the thought of how much daily conference calls to Canada would have cost.
We track down Adan as per JC’s suggestion. He actually proves very easy to contact: Lorinda still has his phone number and email address, and she simply sends him a text message. JC’s view is that we should communicate via email rather than phone. That way, the threats won’t feel as personal or direct. It’s a good idea – we think it will also stop Adan going off on tangents and rants, as has happened in the past. Hopefully it will stop the marriage proposals too. Most importantly, it puts us in control: we’ll be deciding when we communicate. I will never let him have my number; I’ll contact him when I want, not the other way round. It’s a little concession but none the less it feels good, and this scrawny little terrorist has put my family through enough. I don’t want him disrupting our household at 3 a.m. He’s already done enough damage to my kids’ psyches. Adan will just have to trundle off to the internet café. It’s all about power plays, this kidnapping gig.
We send our first serious money email, offering Adan US$280K. The last offer we know of was US$250K in April. We let the HTs think that since then we’ve scraped together more cash. We have a formulaic budget to work to – we have US$500K in the kitty and this has to include the payment to AKE. There are whispers of a consular loan coming through from the Canadian government of perhaps a hundred grand, but we won’t count it until it’s in the bank.
Monday, 3 August
In the previous night’s email to Adan we were at pains to say that Nigel and Amanda’s families are working together on this, and that the government is not involved in any way. We deliberately stoke Adan’s paranoia by telling him the government is reading his emails; we want him to set up a hush-mail account, an encrypted system, so the government can’t monitor our emails.
The response back is pretty quick and – surprise, surprise – negative. We’re told the amount is US$2 million and that Ramadan is only twenty days away: ‘this time is the time of killing’. I’m glad we have gone for the email option; it would have been hard to hear that on the phone. Yet, Adan writes to Lorinda, ‘Really’ I love you because you respect me every time.’ Totally Monty Python. If it wasn’t so bloody serious, I’d be laughing my arse off.
Lorinda gets a tape from a Canadian journalist, and confirms the voice on it is Amanda’s. Most of the call is the standard scripted stuff: they are not well; the governments must pay. I’ve started to feel immune to it, but I’m still concerned about their health. Lorinda tells us Amanda has a broken tooth. The fact that it is abscessed and Amanda is in pain racks up the pressure for Lorinda. This is exactly the sort of stress the kidnappers want.
We discuss the call in detail at our daily CMT Skype – 11 a.m. for us, night-time for the Canadians. I find Lorinda a bit emotionally driven at the moment. I know she’s seriously worried about Amanda, but her head seems clouded. Because Lorinda is being so vocal, JC suggests a change in tactic. Maybe an offer above the US$300K mark might move them? Normally, we would avoid this path: ‘We try not to raise the offer until the kidnappers give us something.’
Even so, I’m going to run with it: I trust that JC knows w
hat he’s doing.
We discuss sending another care package with medicine. I don’t know if the last package got to them. Surely most of the contents will be sold on the black market, but some of it might get through. It’s something we rehash for quite a long time. I ring my doctor cousin to get him to write me prescriptions to be filled in Nairobi. This time we opt not to send letters and only a limited number of clothes. New undies and pads for Amanda are a must. I’m sure Nige will be in need of some deodorant; he’d be a pretty stinky Pete by now.
Saturday, 8 August
We up our offer to US$319K and ask for a POL. Our question is piss-easy: What were the names of our dairy cows when we were kids? Answer: Daisy and Mabel. Adan has completely ignored our POL questions in the past and will probably do so again.
We also ask if we can send medicine to Nige and Amanda. Adan just wants money for keeping Amanda safe: ‘Where is my $3000 you promise me?’ That was never in the deal. This guy is a monumental pain in our arses – anything he says (or writes), he believes, regardless of our response or lack of it. I assume this is why the Feds pulled away from him. JC assures me we are on track; we just have to re-educate him.
There are lots of mixed-up emails going back and forth. Adan can’t seem to come to grips with the encrypted emails and so is sending stuff via his Yahoo address. We have to establish first that the emails have come from him and then write back through Yahoo while now having to alleviate his paranoia that we are doing something to his hush mail. We can’t possibly say that he’s just a dumb fuck who blames everything going awry on everyone else. Tempting as that is, it will just have to wait until we have Nige and Amanda back.
Tuesday, 11 August
We are getting mixed signals about the Professor. Reporters Without Borders is the channel Ham used to contact the kidnappers. RWB put him on to the Professor, who put Ham in contact with Adan. This has only proved that all paths lead to Adan, and that he is the one with whom we should be negotiating.
This hasn’t stopped the Professor sticking his oar in. Annoyingly, he has indicated he plans to keep communicating with the HTs, and he won’t tell us any of the kidnappers’ names or who else apart from Adan he is dealing with. Adan keeps trying to negotiate with him rather than us.
The Professor has said he won’t stop till Amanda’s parents contact him, but they don’t want to talk to him. We are all starting to think he may actually be in on the kidnapping. Why else would he be trying to make himself so integral to the case? We also can’t understand RWB’s involvement and why they are being so forceful. They do all their own negotiations with any kidnappers so why are they recommending the Professor? It’s all too much subterfuge for me.
In the end Ham establishes that Amanda has contacted the Professor and, according to him, asked him to negotiate her release. Jon sends him an email asking him to pull out. Whether he will or not, we will just have to wait and see.
Kellie
Newcastle
August
I haven’t part of this CMT too long but I am starting to find out how important it is to document phone calls, and not to get too excited or shocked by the content.
JC is amazing. He is so cool, calm and collected whenever we phone him in a flap about a news report or a Google alert we have seen. He knows exactly what to say to make you relax: keep calm and carry on. Hey, they should put that on a tea towel.
The number of random people who contact Nic, Ham or me to help in the case is incredible, so I am not at all shocked when Ham phones one night to give me news that he has just spoken with Katherine Borlongan from Reporters Without Borders.
Ham is in a state about Katherine’s phone call. He is going on about RWB having proof that Amanda has had a baby and that I need to phone Katherine straightaway. RWB are planning to get Amanda and Nigel out.
Right now I am very thankful for JC’s guidance in how to handle a panicked relative. Ham is in overdrive; I can hear it in his voice. He can’t get the information out quickly enough. Ring her now, he keeps saying, she is waiting for your call. After the CMT formed, Nic and I decided not to disclose anything to the family that would cause unnecessary emotional strain, as it is very difficult to deal with and extremely draining. Nic and I need all of our energy to manage the daily goings-on of the CMT.
‘Ham, you need to calm down. These people cannot get Nige and Amanda out unless they get approval from the family, and as far as I know, no family member has spoken to RWB since the CMT was formed.
‘I will call Katherine now and find out everything I can. Please keep this to yourself until I find out what’s happened.’
I look at the number Ham has given me and call Katherine via Skype. She answers the phone and starts talking immediately, saying the information she is giving me is in the strictest of confidence. Right, I think to myself, all information that comes to us ‘in the strictest of confidence’ has turned out to be a crock, but maybe this will be different. Confidential or not, I tell Katherine, I will have to disclose our conversation to family members and our person of interest (JC).
Katherine tells me that a source close to RWB saw Amanda being taken to hospital, and was told that she has had a baby boy, Osama.
‘Okay so did your source tell you when this happened?’
‘She was taken to hospital yesterday.’
‘Is she still there?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, did your source see her come out?’
‘No, our source hasn’t seen Amanda since she went in.’
‘So has your source or any of your RWB colleagues asked a doctor or a nurse in the hospital to confirm if it was in fact Amanda Lindhout and that she did in fact give birth?’
No.
‘Right. So you are telling me that no one has any confirmation on this at all.’
‘Ah, yes.’
‘Any journalist worth their salt would be in that hospital, trying to find a doctor or a nurse who delivered this so-called baby. We are not talking North Shore Private here. I’m sure anyone with info who works at that hospital would supply it for a couple of bucks. Now, if you have nothing else for me, I would appreciate it if you’d stop wasting my time and let me get on with the real task at hand, and that is getting Nigel and Amanda out.’
‘But we are only trying to help.’
‘Well, Katherine, if you want to help me, give me your boss’s phone number so I can speak with them directly about what RWB wants to do exactly, because as far as I am concerned you are not helping, you are starting rumours that appear in the press and heighten emotions within the family. So, I ask you: who put you up to this?’
‘Oh, it’s not like that at all. This information came to us from one of our contacts on the ground.’
‘Well, your contact sounds like he or she is helping the kidnappers. Now, please, leave us alone.’
This was my first real confrontation with anyone on the other side and it felt good to know what I was talking about, and to have just a small amount of control over the situation. Okay, one battle down; bring on the next.
So the DFAT contingent is coming, flying up from Canberra in a tiny Brindabella Airlines plane, then they will drive a hire car to my house from Newcastle Airport.
They arrive on time and spill out of the car. They’d been packed in like sardines and their suit coats and pants are crushed – not the look they were going for, I believe – and they are fidgety and uncomfortable. Even the hire car looks ominous. It’s the same grey as the bitumen. The car and the road blend together. If you unfocus your eyes like you are looking at one of those 3D images that were huge in the nineties, the grey suits and the car seem to just disappear.
We’d offered to pick them up from the airport but this was knocked back; so is the morning tea spread I’ve prepared. Maybe they think I am going to poison them with tea cake, but not one of them eats or drinks a thing the whole time they’re here. I would like to put it down to nerves. The idea of telling our family that the gove
rnment can no longer help us in any way to get Nigel back would terrify me. Especially after it has taken them close to a year to reach this conclusion.
We know that’s why they’re here. Nic joins us on Skype – she’s got sick kids, no money and she’s really over it – so it is Heather, Geoff, Matt, me and the suits. This is to be the final handover meeting. Nic and I came back from Canada with a list of questions we wanted answered by them, but once we’d told them we had put AKE to task, they wanted info from us.
The meeting starts with the usual government garbage led by James. He goes on to discuss a letter from Minister Smith then confirms that the Australian government will provide full financial support for Nigel’s extraction from Nairobi. He confirms there will be extra officers in Nairobi for family support.
Ben from the AFP goes through the strategies that they’ve implemented throughout the last year and he names everyone Minister Smith has contacted, from the high commissioner to the Somali ambassador, the current Somali prime minister and deputy prime minister. None of which worked and none of whom could help.
Nic via Skype asks if we can get some information from the AFP and DFAT to help us now we are on our own. She asks if she can contact any TPIs. James and Ben’s response is a definite ‘no’. The TPIs have asked that the government protect their identities and not disclose them to the family. This is a very easy way for the government to get out of giving us anything useful to go on.
Nic asks, ‘Is Adan the correct person to speak to?’
Ben and James both answer ‘yes’.
I shake my head as I remember when all lines of communication were cut with Adan as the AFP didn’t believe he was the man to deal with.
The Price of Life Page 28