by Di Morrissey
‘Careful, Vi, don’t wake her up. Hmm, Jennifer did well,’ announced Christina.
‘She’s a jewel,’ said Isobel.
‘Can I have a hold?’ asked Vi as the phone rang.
‘That might be Blair. I’ve been trying to reach him.’ Isobel hurried away.
‘Shall we just run out the door and steal this precious little thing?’ laughed Vi. ‘Oh my, oh my.’ She planted a kiss on the baby’s cheek.
‘Now, Vi, be careful. Germs. Give her back to me.’ Christina took command. ‘The sooner we can get her and Jennifer back home, the sooner we can all look her over.’
‘Ooh, she’s going to be cuddled and cuddled,’ sighed Vi, wishing she’d had children and could luxuriate in being a grandmother.
‘Vi, we will not be spoiling this baby,’ said Christina firmly. ‘And I certainly hope Blair doesn’t go along with this Bella business.’
Isobel came back into the room. ‘That was Tony, he is very happy and relieved. Seems they had a bit of an adventure out there.’ Isobel decided not to spoil the moment with Tony’s news about what had happened.
When everyone had left, Isobel tiptoed into Jennifer’s room and looked down at the sleeping child in the carry cot next to the bed.
‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ Jennifer rolled over, leaning her head on the side of the bed.
‘She is, of course,’ said Isobel. ‘Your family were here. Your mama does not like the name Isabella.’
‘It’s Bella. She’ll have to get used to it,’ smiled Jennifer. ‘Did you speak to Blair?’
‘Not yet. Tony rang. He is very, very happy. And proud of you.’
‘Is there any news of Kicking Back? Have they caught them?’
‘He said they wouldn’t know for a few hours. He was very brave doing what he did.’
‘Was a bit drastic. I’ll have a story to tell Bella about the night she was born.’ Jennifer paused. ‘Isobel, it was strange. That trip over. I suppose I was hallucinating or out of it a bit, but I kept imagining I was in the water again . . . I kept seeing all these sea creatures, imagining Gideon’s fish was there in the boat with me, talking to me. Now what the hell does that mean?’ She laughed, but her eyes held questions.
‘Who am I to say? Perhaps at times, emotional times, we see things . . . that fish is Gideon, the wise old man. The grandpapa you wish for Bella. Your past is linked to the sea, and so is your future, Jenny. We shall talk about this more. Another time. You still have unanswered questions in your heart.’ She reached down as the baby stirred and whimpered and lifted her to Jennifer’s arms. ‘She is hungry.’
‘So am I. My last meal was the picnic on the boat . . . God, how long ago does that seem!’
Finally, scraping over the reef, the Kicking Back had made its rendezvous at sea with the rusting, stained old freighter. The transfer of the cartons in a rope sling had been swift if precarious. Gordon had been the one to make the perilous climb up the metal ladder to negotiate payment. Holding, Fanzio and Willsy watched anxiously.
The two crew, one with a sore head, held the cruiser in position as the two craft wallowed in the swell. Gordon appeared on the deck and gave a thumbs-up.
‘Did you check the stuff? Make sure it’s pure,’ yelled Willsy.
The sling was lowered with large cartons wrapped in plastic.
Gordon climbed back down and jumped onto the deck. ‘It’s good stuff. No worries, mate,’ he mimicked Willsy.
The painter rope was disentangled from the oily freighter and the engines got under way. Kicking Back revved up and sped through the dark water the way it had come. The crew were told to remain on deck in the flying bridge. Even with the rush of wind and water they could hear the raised voices. Holding was shouting. Especially at Fanzio.
‘Listen, you’re in this! All the way. You can’t be half bloody pregnant,’ yelled Fanzio.
‘When we started in on this it was a straight sale of collectible species. Not bloody drug-running and money laundering,’ Holding said.
‘You weren’t knocking back your share of the profits. So you share the risks too.’
‘It’s too risky. I want my money and out. No more.’
Fanzio stepped away. ‘Gordon, get over here.’
‘He won’t talk, don’t worry,’ said Gordon in a low voice to Fanzio.
‘I’ll give him what cash we’ve got on board as a down-payment. We keep the stuff. But I don’t want him to know where it goes. We have to keep him quiet, frighten him a bit so he won’t talk,’ Fanzio said.
‘Get Willsy to rough him up,’ said Gordon.
‘No, too obvious. Where’s that poison stuff you got? Jab him with that. It knocked out that other bloke in the lab, didn’t it?’
‘Shit, we don’t know how strong it is. thought it’d be worth experimenting with it on animals as a knock-out drug. Untraceable too, as no one knows what it is. Rudi conked out just breathing fumes of it.’
‘So, experiment. Shut the bastard up. He’s running shit-scared. We don’t need this right now.’
‘What’s happening?’ Willsy joined them. ‘I don’t trust Holding. Is this an act he’s bunging on, or is he for real? If he doesn’t get his share he’ll talk to someone, believe me.’
‘Pour drinks, keep him quiet and occupied. Gordon will handle it, won’t you?’
The young man shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’
Holding sat cradling his drink, watching Willsy and Fanzio as they opened a box and unwrapped a small parcel of white powder wrapped in thick plastic. Willsy tipped a scoop of the powder into a metal dish over the small flame of a gas bottle.
‘Just testing the strength. This will cut down real nice.’
As Holding watched intently, Gordon sat at the table next to him. Holding didn’t see the syringe in Gordon’s hand until it was too late.
His Scotch went flying as he leapt up, rubbing his arm. ‘What the fuck! You’re not injecting me with that stuff . . .’ His eyes rolled as a wave of nausea hit him and his knees went.
Gordon caught him and laid him on the seat bench. ‘Out like a light.’
‘For how long? What’s in that thing?’ asked Willsy.
‘Damned if I know. When I heard what happened to that guy at the research station I figured it might be useful,’ grinned Gordon. ‘So what’s the plan now? What do we tell the boys upstairs?’
‘Those pricks on Cookshead must’ve come in by boat. They’ll be in Headland by now if they had any kind of navigation gear with them,’ said Fanzio. ‘We go back to Cookshead, find their boat, put the stuff in it, and you and Willsy take the boat to Branch. If they’ve notified the cops they’ll be looking for this boat. We’ll be clean.’
‘What about him?’ Willsy pointed at the slumped Holding.
‘Too much grog, sleeping it off. Or heart attack, or something. See how he goes.’
‘I’ll tell the boys,’ said Willsy.
‘You sure you can trust your blokes?’ asked Fanzio.
Willsy grinned. ‘This isn’t their first deal going down. They’re greedy. They’ll want more. They’re sweet.’
Tony hadn’t been to bed. His eyes were bloodshot and he was tired as he sat in the small office in the customs shed at the waterfront, listening to the crackling conversation between the patrol boat and the police search and rescue plane.
‘There’s only one boat in the vicinity they could have made a rendezvous with . . . a freighter. Got Chinese characters on her stern.’
‘That’d be the one,’ said Tony. ‘Where’s the cruiser Kicking Back?’
‘Making for Headland Bay or thereabouts by the look.’
‘Get a search warrant. She’ll have illegal cargo for sure.’
The customs official looked at Tony. ‘That’s not easy.’
Very early the next morning Tony rang Rosie and told her about the baby, and all that had happened. ‘Sorry to wake you but thought you’d like to know the whole story.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Rosie w
hen he’d finished. ‘What do I do if any of them lob back in here?’
‘Nothing. You know nothing. But I’d tell Patch to keep his head down. They know he’s been talking to me. And what he’s told me is crucial evidence now.’
When Kicking Back made it back to the Headland marina the ambulance Fanzio had called was waiting. Everyone assumed Holding had had a heart attack.
Then lawyers in suits appeared and Fanzio made outraged comments to the media about the ‘wild’ rumours and ‘illegal’ search of the company boat during which nothing untoward had been found.
As the weather cleared Tony caught the chopper over to Branch later that morning.
‘You look dreadful,’ said Rosie.
‘No sleep. I’m still chasing loose ends.’
‘Listen, grab a room and have a kip. When you’re ready we’ll have a meal. No one is going anywhere.’
‘I have to get Lloyd’s boat back. I just hope those bastards didn’t sink it.’
‘Later. Come on, I’ll get my new assistant manager to show you to an empty suite.’
Tony raised an eyebrow. ‘Blair has been replaced?’
‘Let’s say I think he’s going on to bigger things. Apparently he made a swift move to distance himself from the slick boys. He must have had a tip-off.’
‘Not me. Jen doing the right thing. She’ll always have a tie to him.’
When he woke up and pulled back the curtains, Tony saw a brilliant sunset. The storm had passed totally and the lingering clouds made a spectacular show. He showered, borrowed a staff shirt from Doyley and joined Rosie in the bar.
‘All my gear is on the boat. Well, here’s to Miss Bella. And Jen.’
Rosie clinked glasses. ‘Here’s to you for a mighty job. By the way, Lloyd’s boat is back. Willsy and Gordon sailed her.’
‘What? I thought they were on Kicking Back?’
‘Their story is they were sheltering from the storm at Cookshead. Their launch was stolen, they found the yacht and knew it belonged to Lloyd, so kindly sailed it back over.’
‘Oh shit. When did they get here?’ Tony leapt to his feet.
‘Hours ago. They’ve moored it round at Gideon’s. Why? What’s the drama? I thought it was decent of them to bring Lloyd’s boat back.’
‘I’m not sure, but it doesn’t sound kosher to me. I don’t trust that Willsy bloke.’
‘Willsy is here to unwind, he says. He and Gordon are taking a fishing charter out tomorrow. Business as usual.’
‘Where’s Patch?’
‘Up round his area, I’d say. What’s up? You haven’t finished your drink.’
Rosie stared in astonishment as Tony bolted from the terrace bar.
He couldn’t find Patch and a knot of fear began to tighten in his belly as he raced to the deserted research station. When he couldn’t find anyone, he cut through the pisonia trees to Gideon’s.
At the Shark Bar, neatly moored in the lagoon, was Lloyd’s sloop. On board nothing was out of place. Tony searched the boat, puzzling over the reason Willsy and Gordon had sailed it back. Obviously they didn’t want to be caught on Kicking Back, even though by the time the police launch had located it there was no illicit cargo on board. The poor birds and whatever else had probably been dumped overboard or transferred to the freighter.
Tony grabbed his shaving kit and a change of clothes and went back to the resort. He and Rosie had a quiet dinner and when they left the dining room they heard Willsy in the bar, laughing, surrounded by people, ordering more champagne. Gordon was nowhere to be seen. With Blair away he seemed to have no boss and went his own way.
‘I wish the gang were back here,’ said Tony. ‘I wish I could figure out what the hell went down over at Cookshead. I don’t want to push Patch but he has given me some damning evidence. Now if I use it, his life could be in danger.’
Tony couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed thinking back to this time the previous evening as he and Jennifer had made their dangerous trip back to Headland. What a trooper she’d been. When he thought how scared she’d been of the sea, even a little trip in the resort launch with Lloyd around the island from Gideon’s had been such a big deal for her. After last night nothing would daunt Jen.
He began to ponder his feelings for her. He’d been so vulnerable when they’d met, sworn off relationships and needing to heal his heart and psyche. But she’d slipped under his radar. It had been easy to develop their friendship, given the circumstances and the group of people and the fact she was married and off-limits. She was safe. But as her marriage to Blair had disintegrated, their lives and careers had become interwoven, and now they had reached a different plateau.
He had played a small part in a significant moment in her life and he felt even more connected to her. But he was afraid to step forward, make any move or approach, for fear of damaging a friendship that had become precious to him. If this was as good as it got, that would be enough. He was not going to do anything to spoil the easy bond they shared.
Tony was dozing when he heard the tap on his window. He leapt up, pulling back the curtain, and recognised Patch. He slid open the glass door and brought him into the room, but didn’t turn on the light.
They spoke in low voices, the old man’s stutter worse with nerves.
‘Patch, you go and get Rosie. Tell her what you told me. She’ll know what to do.’
There was a cool edge to the night air. The moon hadn’t risen to its highest point and was obscured by trees. Tony cursed as he stumbled over a sleeping mutton bird.
He slowed as he reached Gideon’s compound. The goat was penned, everything looked in its place. Doyley was in charge of the goat, the garden and general maintenance while Gideon was away.
Tony stopped and looked at the sandy garden. Even in the poor light he could see the scuffed marks in the sand. He had the key from Rosie but he went to the shed where the shark mobile was neatly wrapped and covered. He stared at it in the light from the dim lightbulb, and saw one end of the cover had a loose tie. He pulled back the canvas and opened the small hatch. Inside the submersible were half a dozen large cartons.
He ripped open the top one and found it filled with plastic bags. He didn’t need to open it to know what it held. The white powder was unmistakeable. In exchange for the animals, payment came in this form, Tony surmised. He stepped back, trying to calculate, and gave up. Over a million dollars or more depending on the purity of the powder. How many shipments of innocent creatures had been sold for this? he wondered. There was probably a huge money-laundering scam involved as well.
Who would have thought of searching the premises of the grand old man of the island? Fishing charter be blowed. This was going out tomorrow and would be on the streets of Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, in days.
Back at the resort Tony called Bob in Headland, who agreed to pick him up in the chopper at first light. After a few more phone calls he had everything in place to implicate Willsy, Gordon and the slick boys. And he had a hell of a story to write for the paper.
After two days Jennifer couldn’t imagine her life without this small child beside her. Already she and Isobel agreed Bella was her own person, wilful, cute, dependent and kissable.
‘I want to take her back to the island right now. But I promised Mum . . .’
‘Jenny, she is still so tiny, you must keep in touch with the medical people, and you must get strong. Enjoy a couple of weeks’ bonding and being with your mother. Make it a healing time. She is a woman in great pain,’ said Isobel.
‘Yes. But I’m so glad Vi and Don are here as well,’ said Jennifer.
Later Jennifer realised how lucky she was those first few days alone with her baby to have Isobel calmly supportive in the background. When Bella refused to breastfeed, Isobel placed her on a pillow and gave Jennifer a small cocktail to relax her, sat and chatted and, before any of them knew it, Bella’s rosebud mouth was clamped firmly on her nipple and Jennifer’s let-down reflex allowed her milk to flow.
Christina
seethed at being a ‘visitor’ to her daughter but Jennifer insisted she’d been advised not to upset her baby by moving straightaway.
When she did move to Christina’s unit, Jennifer was confident and secure. She and Bella had a pact.
Blair rang. He was flying back to Australia. Jennifer assumed it was for the baby till Tony came to make his first visit and filled her in on the news. He arrived with flowers and stood staring at Bella in Jennifer’s arms, deeply touched.
‘So? What do you think of her?’
‘She’s just perfect. I’m trying to imagine what she thought about our boat trip.’
‘I hope we can take her out sailing when she’s bigger, and it’s a calm and sunny day,’ laughed Jennifer.
‘She’ll be swimming, sailing and diving before she can walk probably.’ He grinned at her. ‘Can I take a photo of you both?’ After he’d taken several pictures, he sat beside the bed. ‘Are you ready for the latest developments?’
‘I saw the TV news, what on earth went on?’
‘It’s been a hectic week. Willsy and Gordon found Lloyd’s boat at Cookshead. Kicking Back cruised back to Headland to be met by customs, who found nothing on board. Seeming to do a good deed, Willsy and Gordon took Lloyd’s boat to Branch and unloaded the drugs at Gideon’s. Who’d search his place?’
‘But Patch, as usual, stuck his nose in,’ said Jennifer.
‘It’s starting to unravel. I gave the cops the transcripts of all my interviews with Patch.’ Tony paused and stroked Bella’s tiny, curved, shell-like hand. ‘He told me about Willsy and the girl,’ he said slowly.
Jennifer stared at him.
Tony went on in a steady voice. ‘He saw him attack the red-headed girl from the resort staff and she went to you and Blair. She stayed at your unit, and you got her out the next morning.’
‘Poor Rhonda. Oh my God, he saw that? Why didn’t he come forward?’
‘He was scared. Who’d believe him? And you seemed to have it under control. But it’s pretty damaging evidence against Willsy.’
‘Rhonda has been paid off so she won’t talk,’ said Jennifer.