‘I’ll show you where the walk starts,’ Ellie volunteered. She made sure she was on the outside of the trio as they ambled along past the designer shops and restaurants still buzzing with customers. She licked the last of the macadamia ice-cream from her fingers and tossed the paper serviette in the bin. They were almost there.
The Opera Bar sprawled along the walkway and Ellie steered the others onto the elevated side so she was looking down into the bar. A charge of alarm almost made her stumble. Critter was sitting at a table tucked back against the bar. At another table further on was the younger intruder. He had a mobile phone in his hand. Ellie felt the vibration against her leg. A text. She stopped the two girls. ‘Photo?’ she asked, digging her camera out of the carry bag.
‘Sure, sure.’ As the two girls rummaged around in their bags, Ellie kept talking. She lined the two men up and reeled off a string of shots. The light wasn’t great but she was sure they’d be recognisable.
It didn’t take much to manoeuvre the girls into a shot that had the men in the background. The two men were starting to look agitated. Ellie returned the girls’ cameras and pulled her phone out. Where are you? the message read.
Just coming along past the jet boats. CU in 2, she sent back. Under pretence of zooming in on a seagull, Ellie watched the young man read the message and then give Critter the thumbs up. He motioned to his left in the direction of the jet boat office. ‘Holy hell,’ she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. She was right. Critter’s mate was sending the texts, but who was giving the orders?
‘Pardon?’ one of the girls asked.
‘Nothing,’ she replied. ‘I have to go now, but you just walk around past the Opera House and follow the path. It’s about half an hour’s walk. You’ll be okay?’
She waved as they left, turning the camera over in her hands and scanning the crowd.
‘Ellie?’
She turned before she could stop herself and in that split-second knew she was in danger. The startling blue eyes and cold smile looked the same in real life as they did on a Facebook page. They belonged to Lachlan, Teisha’s friend. She knew without a doubt this was the man in charge.
‘Pardonnez-moi?’ she asked, taking a step backwards and clutching the camera defensively in front of her, hearing the shutter open and close in rapid fire as she kept her finger on the button, collecting evidence.
‘It’s Ellie, Ellie Wilding. You’re a friend of Alex’s.’
‘Mais non.’ She backed up further, purposely bumping a table with several men in suits indulging in a late lunch. ‘Excusez-moi,’ she apologised, as their bottle of wine almost toppled.
One of the men put out a hand to steady her. ‘You okay?’
Ellie smiled at him. ‘Merci. I’m so sorry.’ She laid on a thick accent.
Lachlan had stopped, but Ellie realised he was waiting for Critter and his mate to thread their way through the tables. Surely to God they weren’t going to try anything stupid in public?
She knew she couldn’t afford to wait and find out.
‘So sorry,’ she flashed a smile at the bemused businessmen as she leant over and grabbed the water carafe from the middle of the table. She hurled the contents into Lachlan’s face and smashed the container at his feet, then took off running. Critter was angling across at her as people started to shout. She could hear Critter clearly behind her. ‘Stop, thief!’
As she flung the plastic bag at his head she regretted not making sure there was something heavy in the bottom of it. People scattered ahead of her and she was grateful no one seemed inclined to stop her. Her hat flew off and she tossed the sunglasses towards a bin. The backpack thumped against her waist. Whatever happened, she had to keep it safe.
Ahead in the crowd she could see a disturbance. The entry to Circular Quay was still a couple of hundred metres away. Two Asian men in dark suits were running from the ferry terminals, scattering the crowds watching the didgeridoo buskers. Behind her Critter was still yelling.
‘Shit,’ she swore.
‘Ellie, Ellie, over here!’
Was that Alex’s voice?
44
‘I don’t give a rat’s. Just get me a track on Ellie’s mobile phone. I need to know where she is, pronto.’ Nick was sick of arguing with his ICAC colleague. The room where the technicians worked was like a troglodyte’s cave. Deidre was the least user-friendly of the team with attitude to match her Gothic dark hair and multiple piercings, but she was also the most talented.
‘Okay, okay.’ Deirdre held up her hands. ‘I’m just telling you, the boss will be pissed that the request didn’t cross his desk first.’
‘Yeah, well, since he’s watching the nags at Randwick with his phone turned off, there’s not a lot I can do about that. Here.’ He scrawled out a few lines on a piece of paper. ‘Sign and date and I’ll take full responsibility.’
She shrugged and ignored the paper. She was only being prickly because she could and because she’d tried to hit on him and he’d turned her down. She was ten years too young.
‘There. It’s in place. Hit Refresh when you want an update. Right now I’d say your girlfriend’s drinking champagne at the Opera House.’
He didn’t bite and lifted the device from her fingers. ‘Thank you.’
Her snort followed him out the door.
The traffic was heavy for a Saturday. He was convinced there was a department somewhere that ensured road works were conducted at the most inopportune time. What was wrong with doing it at night, under lights, when the only people who’d care would be the hoons in their stolen cars?
He’d been going crazy since Ellie hung up on him and refused to pick up. He could only imagine what she’d find in her sister’s computer. The BBS drug trafficking had ensnared several Australian ex-servicemen who’d set up a supply line to bring in heroin from Afghanistan to Sydney but that would be the tip of the iceberg. The only saving grace, and it was purely selfish on his part, was that she wouldn’t find anything about the cover-up on there. That all happened after the shootings. Would her father come clean? He hoped so, because the secrets really weren’t Nick’s to share. And keeping them was taking its toll.
If Tom hadn’t been such a decent and honourable man, he’d probably have cracked by now and given Ellie all the details. But it meant so much to Tom to keep his daughter’s reputation clean that Nick was compelled to maintain his silence.
Anyway, he was finally cleaning this mess up. The public gaze had moved on and it would be just another drug bust involving some skint fishermen in Port Newel. There’d be no connection to Australian troops in Afghanistan, no connection to the death of Nina Wilding, and Ellie would continue taking photographs that evoked strong emotions. The world would be better for it.
He’d reached the Harbour Bridge on-road and took the exit to Darling Harbour. Parking shouldn’t be too hard at this time. He found a space in The Rocks and pocketed the keys. It felt weird being in a hire car in his hometown, but he’d get his own back from Half Moon Bay in a couple of days.
The markets were in full swing, the air pungent with the fragrance of aromatherapy soaps, fried foods and incense. Tourists threaded their way through the stalls, picking over carved ornaments and crocodile-skin belts. Nick kept to the middle of the road, dodging prams and children.
The water of the Harbour sparkled blue, a reflection of the clear autumn sky arching over the bridge. Picture-perfect. The green-and-cream ferries surged in and out of Circular Quay, decks crowded with sightseers. He could see the caterpillar formations of bridge climbers dotted over the giant steel structure. There’d be hundreds of happy tourists smiling in their photos.
He came down the stairs beside the Museum of Contemporary Art. Ahead lay the forecourt of the ferry terminals. Someone was late. A couple of Asians in suits were legging it towards the last gate. The swirling colours of the crowd made him think of a whirlpool. Where was Ms Wilding in all this?
He hit Refresh on the tracking software Deidre had
given him, humming as he walked. The device loaded and he did a double take. Ellie was heading straight towards him?
‘Stop, thief!’
His head snapped up. Ellie! Her arms and legs were pumping, hair streaming behind her. On a collision course with her were the two Asian men he had thought were late for a ferry, but it was clear from their expressions they were also focused on Ellie. ‘Fuck,’ he swore. He was too far away to stop the men, but he took off anyway.
‘Ellie, Ellie, over here!’ Someone else called her name. He recognised the voice. Alex was no runner, but he was going to get to Ellie before the men did.
Nick recognised the muted pop of a silenced gunshot the instant he heard it. ‘No!’ he yelled, fear giving his voice strength as he launched himself through the crowd, shouldering people aside. ‘Ellie, get down!’
45
‘Alex?’ She recognised his voice before she recognised the dishevelled man running to head off the Asian men in suits. One of the suits pulled a gun and turned towards her friend. She watched it all happen freeze-frame by freeze-frame. Alex’s head snapped forward, his arms flung wide and his feet overran themselves. He fell, taking people around him down in a heap. Women were screaming, men were shouting, shielding their families. Before Ellie could veer left towards the shops under the railway line, the man swung his gun up again towards her, the black muzzle like an accusing eye.
‘Ellie, get down!’ The second voice was so urgent, so compelling, she did what it ordered and threw herself into a garden bed, hoping like hell the computer survived. Where had all these people come from? What were Alex and Nick – it was his voice – both doing here? She could smell cigarette butts scattered on the ground, her heart hammering hard.
Bark sprayed her and she scrambled behind a gnarly palm tree. Shit, someone was still shooting at her. She swung her head from side to side, frantically assessing her options. Running didn’t seem like a wise choice. A line of policemen rounded the corner nearest to her, hands on radios and weapons. She crouched low. Surely she’d be safe now?
The shouting intensified and she risked a look. Nicholas Lawson had the shooter by one arm and the throat. A policewoman was kneeling beside Alex. Lachlan, Critter and the younger thug seemed to have disappeared, along with the second Asian man. She sucked in air, feeling sick. She had to get to Alex.
Her legs were wobbly when she stood up and she steadied herself against the palm tree. Nick saw her and the relief in his face was palpable. A policeman moved, blocking her view momentarily. With her hands on her hips she started putting one foot in front of the other. She needed to see Alex, but the way he’d gone down was replaying in her mind. His feet were the only thing she could now see and they weren’t moving.
‘Ellie.’ Nick blocked her way. ‘Ellie, are you hurt?’
She shook her head, afraid to meet his eyes.
‘Thank God, when you disappeared behind that tree . . . Oh my God.’ His voice was ragged. She looked up, her senses still hypersensitive. Nick’s eyes were dark, his hair dishevelled. She saw the smooth skin of his cheek, the shadow of beard on his jaw. With his lips parted there was a glimpse of white teeth but no sign of his smile. His control was rigid but the emotion was there for all to see. The strength of his distress, the sympathy, his obvious relief were her undoing. Tears misted her vision.
‘Alex. I need to see Alex.’
‘No, Ellie, no.’ He put out his hand, restraining her, still blocking her view. ‘Leave them. There’s nothing you can do, anyone can do . . .’ His meaning was all too obvious.
‘He’s gone? He’s really gone?’ She couldn’t feel her fingers. The pain in her chest was squeezing her lungs. ‘Oh, Alex.’ The sob hitched in her throat as the tears spilled down her cheeks. Nick hesitated for a fraction of a second, then crushed her to him, cradling her head against his chest, one hard hand smoothing her hair.
She was powerless to stop the deluge of tears. It was as though the events of the last week had finally come crashing down on her and she wondered disjointedly if this was what being in shock meant. She remained resting against Nick’s chest. His arms felt like fortifications against the horror, a shield from the reality of the violence, safety in the chaotic hell of the afternoon.
Yet even with the heat and energy that radiated from him, her tears wouldn’t stop.
She heard him giving details to the police. Her name, his name, contacts. He kept reassuring the police she was fine, just distressed. He said he’d intervened when he saw the man had a gun. She knew he was shielding her for now, giving her space to regain control but she couldn’t speak. She heard someone say the police would be in contact. She was too numb to argue. Other bystanders were lining up as witnesses, the crowd ringed around them as though it was just another show at Circular Quay, although there was no laughter, no smiles and plenty of tears. Shootings in broad daylight didn’t happen on a lazy Saturday afternoon.
A stretcher clattered into the forecourt. The paramedics had finally arrived. Ellie caught snatches of conversation. ‘No pulse . . . Significant gunshot trauma . . . Head injury . . .’
She pushed away from Nick’s chest. She wanted to see Alex, no matter how distressing it might be. Nick let her go but then wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she turned to the stretcher. Alex was already strapped down, his face slack. Blood oozed from a wound on his temple, and his eyes were open. Ellie had seen death; photographed death too many times. She knew Alex was gone. The paramedics hurried the stretcher across to the ambulance, out of the public gaze. His body jumped with each jolt as the wheels rattled over the uneven pavers.
She was numb and grateful for Nick’s strong arm keeping her upright.
‘Ready?’
She managed a nod. Whatever else Alex may have done, he’d died a hero this afternoon, doing everything he could to protect her.
In the car, Ellie huddled in her seat, clutching Nick’s handkerchief. No words were spoken on the twenty-minute drive home. She couldn’t articulate anything and Nick didn’t press her. She watched the streets of Sydney slide past in a daze. Her tears were silent. No sobs, no shaking, just a complete release of emotion that left her bereft of speech. An old friend had endangered her, then lost his life protecting her. It wouldn’t matter what she found on the laptop that now sat at her feet, she would make sure the contents counted. Too many people had paid the ultimate price.
46
Nick drove as fast as conditions would permit, cursing under his breath each time lights changed red as he approached them. There was nothing he could do but get Ellie home as quickly as possible.
He shot a quick sideways glance at her. She had been so strong, so competent. He hadn’t foreseen Ellie’s emotional collapse but of course after everything she’d been through in the last two years – and the last two days – it was to be expected. Damn it, why did it have to be like this? The rest of the truth might just tip her over the edge.
He finally pulled into his driveway. Tears were coursing down Ellie’s face and she seemed oblivious to them. He was out of the seat and around to the passenger door almost before the engine had died.
While Ellie fumbled with the handle, Nick wrenched the door open and scooped her into his arms. Finally. He’d been aching to do just that for at least the last two days, and a hell of a lot longer if he included Afghanistan.
‘Ssh, you’re safe now. You’re home. Shadow’s waiting for you.’ Her head pressed against his shoulder and he felt her anguish reverberate through his soul. ‘Hang in there.’
The Doberman was jumping at the back door. Nick smiled at him over Ellie’s head. ‘Hello, big Shadow. Looks like you’re all cured.’
He placed Ellie on the couch, tucking a cushion under her head. Shadow came bustling through the doors as soon as Nick opened them and went straight to his mistress, his whole body wagging with delight. Ellie reached out to pat him and another shuddering sob racked through her.
Nick rummaged around in his kitchen as the kettle boiled, fi
nally finding the camomile tea. Its aroma, coupled with honey and vanilla, even seemed soothing to his own battered nerves. He left it to brew and went in search of tissues and a blanket. He wasn’t going to fight this need to comfort. His heart rate still hadn’t come back to normal after his frantic dash across Circular Quay. When Ellie scrambled to her feet, holding onto the palm tree, he thought he was going to throw up. He’d been sure she was down and injured. He had no doubt the imprint of his fingers on her attacker’s neck would take weeks to fade.
With gentle hands he spread the soft mohair over Ellie and she turned her tear-stained face to him.
‘What the hell happened today? How did you and Alex both come to be there? Alex . . .’ She blinked away fresh tears. ‘Nick, you owe me that much. The truth.’
‘Ssh, shh.’ He stroked her hair into order. ‘I do. I do . . . I’m only sorry I didn’t get there earlier.’
She leant her cheek against his palm and he went quite still, fighting the overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms again. Her lips brushed across his hand as she turned her head away. He couldn’t stop the tremor that ran through him at the accidental touch. He retreated to the kitchen.
‘I’ve made you some tea. My sister swears by it for calming her down.’ He brought the mug over and sat on the edge of the couch.
She reached out her hand to him and gripped his fingertips in hers. There was a glimmer of a smile behind her reddened eyes. ‘No one has ever made me camomile tea before, let alone a man. Weird, but nice.’ She sighed, lying back along the couch. ‘It’s been a long time since I really let go of things. I’m sorry.’ She pulled a tissue from the box and blew her nose, fresh tears welling in her eyes.
‘I’d say you’ve probably been in shock for the last forty-eight hours. You can’t go through all that and then see . . .’ He struggled with the words. ‘See your old friend like that. It was too much.’ He sighed. ‘When you’re up to it, I’d like to hear what led up to that moment.’
Half Moon Bay Page 29